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#yoongi's hair color palette – blue
for-yoongi0309 · 2 years
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© 뽀태
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sugar-petals · 2 years
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MASTERPOST: k-pop idols and personal color analysis
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↳ with a special masterclass on warm and cool undertones. welcome to the world of seasonal color typing.
this post is for you if:
you want to know what looks great on someone and why.
look for a timeless aesthetic theory that’s universally applicable on anybody.
like to train your eye with image analysis.
enjoy men’s couture, make-up and hair. i specialize in analysing the gentlemen, there’s fewer material on them out there.
want to see why k-pop idols get colors professionally draped to find out their best palette. (like nct’s ten below.)
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this post is not for you if:
you want quick & easy information. it takes time to learn and practice color analysis. but: i’ll show you some hacks, too, and give lots of visual examples.
seek to directly find your own best personal color palette. this is more about kpop styling > advice for self-typing. 
are familiar with the topic and look for set-in-stone answers: just in advance, i’m not an outstanding typist. i’m better at explaining the system itself.
think i’ll hit you with the color wheel. yes, personal color is related to this; hue, tint, and shade. but that’s about it. we won’t use this model 😂
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that being said, let’s start without further ado:
INTRODUCING THE SIX COLOR FAMILIES. 
(...if you want to note down any vital key words from this post, this is it)
how do we distinguish color in the most basic ways? with the following dichotomies.
↳ warm VS cool,
↳ soft VS bright,
↳ light VS deep.
NOTE - for some color analysts, soft is ‘muted’, bright is ‘clear’, and deep is called ‘dark’. it’s the same thing, i use both terms.
so far, so good. it’s pretty intuitive. but let’s understand how these categories come to be: 
warm means added yellow. cool: of course, simply more blue. 
soft means extra grey. bright has more saturation, strength. 
light means more white added. deep means added black.
let’s sort some yoongi selfies into the 6 families so you can see what i mean. if you feel like he’s especially rocking the right-hand side, you will see where i’m going.
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how warm or cool = temperature of color.
how soft or saturated = chroma of color.
how dark or light = value or color.
as in these examples below (tentative, this is just an approximate illustration), every human being falls into one among six tonal color groupings that matches their appearance the very best. 
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it makes them pop, even if other palettes might be great also it looks the most harmonious. it’s their home, their strongest suit. everybody has a skin undertone (≠ skin color) that’s either on par with cool or warm tones which is the primary distinction, and deep or light, bright or muted color. there are lots of possible options of color palettes for each family. 
these 6 color families provide the subtypes of the 4 main ‘seasons’ which are the pillars of the whole system. hence, seasonal color analysis. this system has been around since the early last century and is as timeless as the name suggests.
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congruently, let’s distribute the subtypes:
two seasons are warm-toned (Spring/Autumn), 
two are cool-toned (Summer/Winter),
two light (Spring/Summer), 
two deep (Autumn/Winter),
two bright (Spring/Winter), 
two soft (Summer/Autumn). 
you’ll understand it in a minute. i found this graphic spectrum helpful, take a second to think it through — again we have temperature, value, chroma.
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say if the color is warm, it can only be spring or autumn. a light color can only be spring or summer. and so on. it’s that straightforward. there’s always two each. and every person’s best palette is found in one slice of this pie.
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i love the idea of comparing seasons to people. we’re working by exclusion principle/narrowing it down to type someone here. say, if an idol looks dashing in cool colors that are also very bright and deep, they are a winter. 
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so that’s how the 6 families distribute among the four main categories. i know, it’s a lot to memorize. here’s a representative color each, and an overview that’s simpler.
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and yes, it’s quite literally the colors of landscapes during those times of the year. like in nature, all of us are either spring, summer, autumn, or winter (and one of three subcategories, so there are 12 possible types in total). 
let’s use some broad examples to summarize:
1. spring colors are warm, bright, light (like a flowerbed or meadow in the morning) — stray kids’ felix
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2. summer colors are cool, soft, light (like the beach or city at daytime) — bts’ jimin
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3. autumn colors are warm, soft, deep (like falling leaves at dawn or a cozy home) — nct’s jaehyun
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4. winter colors are cool, bright, deep (like a snowy night or crisp barren landscape) — bts’ yoongi
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within these four archetypes, we can categorize the 6 color family subtypes as beautiful 12 (non-exhaustive, there are many more options) palettes. example:
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notice how:
the early two seasons are less shaded. spring and summer are very subtle.
spring/autumn have a lot of yellow base: they are GOLD. 
vivid the later seasons are. autumn and winter are the pretty heavy ammo.
and how blue-base crisp and cool summer/winter look like: they are SILVER. 
not all golds and silvers are created equal, some are lighter, other shades are deeper. but the general guideline for beginners is: cool season = blue/silver like yoongi and warm season = gold/yellow like namjoon. easy hack:
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both can look good on a person, but one either distracts from the face/doesn’t do anything for you while the other makes you glow refreshed. that’s how you differentiate. let’s figure out how we apply all of this when looking at pictures.
/// what the person’s best color palette does for them:
the outfit works together with the face.
a coherent impression is created.
the features are well-defined.
it’s a ‘wow’ moment. nothing is off.
the whites of the eye are emphasized.
you overlook blemishes; the person looks even and radiant.
a healthy, moderate shine appears.
it compliments the natural hair color (which is always your exact season)
your attention is on the face, not the styling.
the color feels modern, appropriate, interesting.
the right amount of contrast, tying everything together.
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/// meanwhile, how you know it’s NOT the individual’s personal color:
their skin appears a lot warmer or cooler than it usually is. #1 dead giveaway. 
as i’ve heard korean color analysts say, ‘the head floats’: because it feels so separate from the color. (= too high contrast)
the garment casts weird shadows on their chin/cheeks/under the eyes etc. that don’t come from elsewhere.
it all doesn’t feel healthy and smooth.
it makes the skin seem greyed/dull, maybe paler, even blotchy.
it simply kills the vibe of the outfit. something is off, the clothing suspiciously washes them out. (=wrong undertone)
the color is odd, boring, or chaotic on them. 
the jawline suddenly loses all previous definition, blends with the neck. or: the features are unusually severe.
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this is basically “style yoongi like a spring (=felix) VS style felix like a winter (=yoongi)”: the difference is immense between warm and cool tones. winter coloring craves so much opposing shades while a spring face is best complimented by no contrast at all. remember: spring is subtle, winter is heavy ammo. felix is a believable blonde because his season is very light and yellow-based.
let’s practice even more and go through all 4 seasons with taeyong’s ever-changing hair. little did we know: if it’s too bright, muted, or warm, his complexion also becomes brighter, softer, and warmer accordingly: to compensate/adapt to the surrounding color/pick up the reflection. but when he wears his best palette that is mostly black-based, it shows his face as it is: cool, strong, intense, and contrasting like winter.
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if that’s too difficult, let’s go back to do a simple gold VS silver example. that’s how you can tell that shinee’s taemin is cool-toned. 
his recent eras have been more geared toward his undertone that is blue-based and sophisticated (silver, white/grey, blue) rather than warm, bold, and expressive (gold, orange, yellow). 
the majority of warm colors look a little overstated or draining on him, while cool tones underline his sexy image just right. 
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(the bottom left example isn’t a summer type outfit because it’s dark and saturated — but he can still pull it off since winter is also blue-based)
cool and warm tones can be applied to all people’s fashion and hair. what matches their complexion seamlessly, what makes them glow. every human being has a distinct palette. 
what may look mediocre on a summer might feel hot on an autumn; every color can be interesting: on the right person. a clear white t-shirt (=cool tone) is meh? think again when a winter type wears it (bts’ taehyung).
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meanwhile, make no mistake: finding one’s season has nothing to do e.g. with how tan you are, or eye color. if someone has light skin, they are not automatically light spring or light summer. because ‘light’ is a color family in this system, not a name for a skin tone — just like having dark skin won’t make a person a dark winter or dark autumn type, for instance. 
i’ll give an example outside of k-pop. my favorite football player, leroy sané (about time the world learns about this cutie). in his wardrobe, nothing does it like the light and radiant tone of spring. he wears the most extreme warm chroma kits with zero effort: while cool-toned, dark colors could never compete. he glows in bright clothes and exciting warm tones. because... he’s a clear spring type! 😍
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or say, if someone is naturally warm blonde: that doesn’t make them a spring or autumn automatically. it’s just that — the other way around! — people who are springs and autumns wear warm hair colors superbly well, e.g. stray kids’ hyunjin. 
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so this is purely about which patterns of color assimilate the best to you as a holistic impression. the contrast level of your features overall is much more important, and how either cool or warm tones make you come to life. remember, gold or silver, and you need to know how intense they can go.
OVERVIEW
people with a warm skin undertone thrive in colors that are more upbeat, bright and vibrant with less contrast (spring), while others are suited by contrasting golden earth and jewel tones (autumn).
people with a cool skin undertone are flattered by colors that are more light silvery and pastel (summer), while others fit stronger icy tones that feature more extreme black and white contrast (winter).
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IMPORTANT CAUTIONARY NOTES: 
- that precisely means: some cool/warm tones may not hit home for someone, BUT lighter or darker ones may. trial and error. when analysing, don’t discard something too easily. and: as we saw, some palettes overlap and seemingly share colors. for instance, bright winters can borrow from bright spring types, since they’re both from the bright family. say, jimin can wear some assorted colors of spring AND summer.
still: keep in mind the basic ideas (and how winters always look better in cool shades, while spring is always warm). if he’s a cool tone and his best colors are soft > bright, and light > dark = we can do the math. he’s a summer. taemin is amazingly flattered by hazy, dusky greys — it’s a light muted palette. grey’s not cute and memorable? he can make it so.
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or vice versa. if he’s cool toned and bright > soft, and dark > light = he’s a winter, like changkyun. winters thrive on contrast and can’t handle bleach as easily as summers and springs. their face disappears, almost becomes ghost-like. taemin can pull off blonde like it’s nothing, while changkyun needs the depth of dark winter hair, as it wonderfully contours his face. winters look their most sexy and mysterious in very strong hues.
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- color analysis takes so much differenciation as color varies so much. a bright warm red (= spring, even winter) might not be bull’s eye for someone because the saturation/chroma is too much, but a soft warm red (= autumn) can. it’s hard to study at first, so sticking with the 4 seasons concept as a beginner can help, long as you remember the 6 color families.
- someone might wear items/hair color from different seasons at the same time. analysis difficulty mode 5000. say, the foundation could be summer, the eye makeup winter, the shirt spring, and the hair autumn. but you can figure out what feels right one by one. bts’ yoongi can wear warm toned orange hair and it’s not in his palette — he’s a cool tone. but depending on the rest of the outfit, the overall impression still works anyway and looks pretty good. 
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since he’s a winter, he can balance the orange hair with black + silver accessories and pull it off better. too soft grey clothing doesn’t make him pop as much and the hair takes over. there’s a reason why the right-hand version went viral and is hard to forget. yoongi wears his winter palette very often. 💘
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- what looks good on someone often resorts to subjective VS objective. what makes someone look radiant and harmonious can be very different to color analyst’s different perspectives and even biases. if you want someone to be season XYZ, you find ways to justify it. that’s why proper analysis means: sifting through dozens and dozens of pictures, and sometimes correcting your typings over and over. 
meanwhile, sometimes it’s easy — because the difference is so extreme. consider txt’ yeonjun with warm blonde hair before an orange color background and dark hair before a cool grey backdrop:
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- keep in mind that certain seasons will be more prevalent among idols. the colorful spring tone era of kpop has blended into a more cool-tone dominated era in the industry. there’s a trend toward casting winters and summers into agencies, but mostly winter. their range of colors is more flexible and eyecatching, and always ready for a classic black tie event. a bright winter aesthetic is veeery popular for nct’s music videos, for instance (so pretty). 
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(how do you know it’s not bright spring? it has strong black background contrast and silver in it.)
so, styling examples in warm tones are harder to find and analyse if seemingly all men’s fashion is blue-based and you don’t find comparison pictures. spring is already seldom worn, but autumn concepts like shinee’s are especially rare.
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- some body types do some color palettes better than others. if you have heard of kibbe body typing, you’ll know what i mean. if your body type says ok, a vertical line of black color works best for you, but your personal color says you’re a soft or light season instead of a high contrast season? meeting halfway and typing well is even more difficult if you consider kibbe and aren’t a versatile gamine or classic type. i mean look at this recommendation table mess:
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- often, people can never seem to agree on a typing online, even experts. everyone has their own approach and tweaks to the theory. the debate can get heated and messy; nobody wants to be wrong despite color analysis being so hard to get right. othertimes, i’ve seen color analysts or forumists type things like ‘ew, person XYZ looks the absolute worst in this color it’s horrible!!’ — i encourage everyone to stay civil and not insult the person you’re typing by saying they look terrible, awful, hideous, gross, nasty, et cetera. and even if a color doesn’t look right, say which one does, end on a positive note. color theory is no excuse or shield to hide behind to call someone ugly.
- lighting/editing/filters can also mess with correct analysis. photo backgrounds can reflect. the issue of artificial vs natural lighting — what helps to type more accurately? (...if you ask me, natural. but color harmony shows indoors anyway, and even in bad lighting.) if the person is wearing major cleavage, their own skin will ‘cancel out’/neutralize the effect of the garment’s color cast on the face. it takes time and effort to learn this system so mistakes sneak in, i constantly err myself. the list goes on. online typings can easily be inaccurate; we’re not doing the analysis in person, with clearly labelled color drapes and palettes under the face as the pros are doing it for consultations.
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example: his company can edit and photograph taemin as a deep winter, icy lighting, heavy makeup, black clothes. but unwhitewashed pictures will tell you that all black everything isn’t as spot-on as more gentle summer colors. 
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winter is too strong and deep. summer is just right, being easygoing and subtle enough.
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- always remember that all colors can be made more cool or warm (by adding yellow or blue respectively), dark or light (by adding black or white), soft or bright (by adding or subtracting grey). yellow can be made cool or warm, blue can be made cool or warm. white can be crisp or off-white/beige. there are only a few dealbreakers in this system. for instance, cool seasons struggle with wearing either orange, and light seasons don’t pull off any black, and the warm color family is incompatible with very sharp white. but other than that, remember that any color is always able to be manipulated on a spectrum.
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but usually, when you type someone into warm or cool, the difference can be quite glaring and you don’t have to go the extra mile and find them in a cool blue vs a warm blue, for instance. let’s look at felix from stray kids and which tone accentuates his face the best in random colors:
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the cool and ashy purple of the dye, the blue-based background, and the black jacket don’t do him any justice. it’s a styling for a winter. instead, felix being a spring is best-complimented by warm blonde hair (guess why he wears it so often, it’s in his palette) and citrus pastels, with warm tone makeup like the peachy coral lip on the right. that’s all we need to check.
- seasonal color analysis works best when the person doesn’t wear makeup and you just observe the effect of the surrounding colors on their face, but then again: makeup is also ‘surrounding color’ and will read as either fitting or separate from the person. let’s look at taeyong:
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the fiery red hair and orange eye shadow are mostly yellow-based and therefore suited for a warm undertone. on his cool tone skin, it needs deeper and more blue-based colors, or a strong contrast like on the right. a cool brunette tone and silver jewelry are just natural on him. even a very subtle makeup style can help him dress his season, despite taeyong handling tons of makeup on any given day. moral of the story, long as his outfit is deep-toned enough, he can go for anything except too much yellow-base. 
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THE SIX COLOR FAMILIES IN DEPTH: EXAMPLES. 
to end this post, let’s practice again to sort idols into the big 6. because as long as you got these down, you can type someone on your own. 
bts’ namjoon’s color family is gently muted. his stylists don’t go for it often, but he wears beigey-peachy soft tones like no other. there’s a reason why he does honey blonde and brunette hair all the time: his undertone is warm. namjoon is a delicate soft autumn.
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shinee’s key is very versatile in fashion, but his color family is cool. very breezy and a bit muted, but mostly full of blue-based greys and browns. not too much winter constrast, this is a more subtle palette. his undertone is cool. kibum is a cool summer. 
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and finally, stray kids felix as we saw belongs to the warm tones, and the light family. that means minimum contrast and lots of subtle chroma, beige and cream are his forte. the more understated the tint of the clothing and accessories, the better. felix is a light spring.
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yep, this can go on and on. i hope you picked up some knowledge bombs from this explanation and feel as intrigued by personal color as i am, do ask if you have any questions and need some help. 
cheers and happy researching ✍️ - caro
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not allowed iv, m | jjk, myg
pairing(s): est. poly relationship – jungkook x reader x yoongi
summary: Your boyfriends woke up and chose violence. Excuse me, Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi? Do you really think you can post one after another on Twitter, send the world into heart palpitations, and not expect your girlfriend to do something about it? Hmm?!
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of the pandemic; reader and Yoongi have giant heart eyes whenever they see each other; feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, nipple play, f and m-receiving oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, m-masturbation, double penetration/spit roasting); idol!BTS
that’s right JK posted his blue hair and i absolutely lost it part of ‘not allowed’ series, but can be read alone. basic summary: your boyfriend asked JJK to fuck you, then again, and then they decided to make this a thing; based on real time.
--
Your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.
Everything was fine. You were on your lunch break, sitting in your kitchen, knowing you would have to get back to work soon. A quick meal and scrub of the dishes left you with you a few minutes to check your phone. You didn’t get many messages throughout the day and you preferred it that way. You took a moment to scroll through social media.
Only to choke a little seeing Jeon Jungkook, the Golden Maknae of BTS, reveal his dark blue locks to the world in the middle of the damn day. Did you almost drop your phone? Yes. Did you not because it was the special edition BTS S20+? Also, yes. The TinyTan SUGA phone case would have protected it anyway, but… still.
You placed your phone aside and went back to your computer, ready to attend work again.
Not quite composed, but it was just a picture, just a picture, just a picture…
Except you knew what Jungkook looked like naked and that wasn’t helping.
Three hours later, you snuck a glance at your phone only to be attacked by the cutest human being in the world, Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, sometimes Agust D, all the time lil meow meow because, holy shit, why the fuck was this man so cute? Those damn cheeks. Those eyes. Fuck, you loved his eye shape. And his pretty lips. Damnnit, why couldn’t you kiss him right now?
They’re trying to kill you and ARMY all at once. 
You’re convinced.
You rubbed your temples and took a deep breath.
It is only a coincidence. It doesn’t involve you. They’re only being their usual adorable, attractive selves and giving a gift to the fans. You weren’t delusional. It was their job to do things like this. You knew this and you were used to it. You’ve seen Yoongi say all kinds of things in V-LIVEs and you always thought it was funny. Lately, he hadn’t been responding to them much though. As for Jungkook, well.
Everyone in the world wanted Jungkook, including you, so could you blame the world? No.
Jungkook tried to tell you before that he was shy and you recalled all those see-through shirts he’d worn on stage. All those ab reveals. Hmm, you weren’t fooled.
“I wanted to make sure you were looking at me, noona,” Jungkook had teased you, hooking his arms around your waist. “I had to get your attention somehow.”
Yeah, yeah, your attention and millions of other people.
It made you laugh, until he became your boyfriend, and now it made you choke on air like every other human being who saw him looking that good. Before you had the safety of giving your full attention to Yoongi. Yoongi had always been your priority and you wanted to make sure he felt that way.
Little by little.
Jungkook grew up.
And became harder and harder to ignore.
Even more difficult when Yoongi gave him the apartment key and told him to fuck you in his stead.
You heard your phone ping. You checked your messages, saving your work in the process.
That will teach you to post such sexy pictures.
You twitched. Excuse me? What was Jungkook talking about? Your personal, private Instagram was for expressing your – sometimes eccentric – fashion sense. Was he referring to the images you posted for Valentine’s Day, the ones with the white vinyl coat, red stockings, and sky-high red heels? Hmph. You couldn’t even see your face in those. Actually, you deliberately cut off most of your face in all of your pictures. The most you showed were your lips, always painted to match your outfit. You didn’t want anyone to recognize you, even by happenstance.
Made taking pictures much easier, since you never had to do eye makeup or worry about accidentally making ugly faces.
It was private now, but it wasn’t before, and the only reason you privated it was because you started dating Yoongi. You still wanted it use it as an outlet though, so you left it as is, with your follower count unchanging. It wasn’t that many people to begin with and you were pretty sure a lot of the accounts were bots.
In any case, sometimes you felt like being creative and dressing up, thus you did so on Instagram. You couldn’t dress like that when you went to visit Yoongi. Ah, and now Jungkook too. To be honest, you loved fashion and trying on different looks, but it wasn’t possible unless you were alone. And you were alone a lot, with no one but strangers to appreciate (or be confused by) it.
Might as well take a picture, right?
And if you could tease Yoongi a little, at least from a distance, that was even better.
You forgot Jungkook also followed you now though. 
Dammit. 
Had the photos been sexy? Sure. Provocative, lots of leg, almost a peek of ass but not quite. Red lips to stand out against the white. If the coat was black, it would have been more traditionally fetishist, but that's why you had picked shiny white vinyl. Brighter for the cute holiday. 
Who are you kidding? You wore it to provoke Yoongi.
He texted you after you posted it. Usually, he said things along the lines of, pretty, cute, you look crazy, I like it. Only sometimes did he say...
what the fuck
You had asked him if he liked your post today. 
I'm not trying to pop a boner in the middle of practice, control yourself woman.
Maybe don't post such cute selfies then, you had thought. Then your phone pinged again. 
Send a picture with the coat open. Jungkook wants to see. 
Oh, so now that the maknae was involved, he was going to pin things on the younger one. Two can play at this game. You sent the photo to Jungkook first. You knew that if the situation was reversed, Yoongi would have done the same. Jungkook's reaction had been hilarious.
Noona?! WHAT???
And then a slew of head exploding emojis.
Yoongi had been agitated until you finally sent him the picture too. It had been a fun incident.
Until your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.
Dammit. 
You stared at blue-haired Jungkook and 'Blue and Grey' Yoongi from the MTV Unplugged performance. 
This just wasn’t allowed. 
-
This visit had a purpose, but then you saw Min Yoongi standing in the hallway waiting for you, wearing an olive-green shirt, hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants, small smile on his lips. Purring your name lovingly after you closed the door, and you realized you missed him so very much, his lovely dark brown eyes and dark hair, and then you were suddenly in his arms and he was hugging you. 
With both arms. 
Yoongi was recovering well and he still couldn't do strenuous activity yet, but he was hugging you with both arms and you wanted to cry because it was so nice to have them both around you. You could've been cool and collected, yet somehow both you and Yoongi had the same idea to first hug and breathe in each other, his fresh, woodsy scent strongly invading your nose and his soft cheek against yours.
"You smell different."
"Do you like it?" you mumbled into his neck, kissing it lightly. 
"Mhm."
You thought it had worn off by now, but the new perfume you had purchased lingered far longer than you imagined, clinging to your hair. Warm spiced sweetness with a hint of sharp smoke. Yoongi inhaled deeply beside you.
"You should wear more perfume," he murmured, hands kneading your waist.
"Someone might notice."
"Nah, your taste similar enough to mine."
He was taking off your coat and you were stepping out of your shoes, being pulled deeper into the apartment, and now his kisses were yours, soft and light, every one saying, I missed you, I want you, I love you. There no need for words when it was Min Yoongi. Fingers tapping down your waist, pulling your oversized black shirt up and over your head. 
"Excuse me?"
You pooped your head out to see Yoongi staring at your chest, jaw dropped and eyes wide. Oh, right. You had been so occupied with hugs and kisses that you almost forgot. Your shirt fluttered to the floor, forgotten.
You smirked. 
"Surprise."
Yoongi made a face at you. Somewhere between angry, aroused, and shock. Good. Serves you right for posting such a cute selfie.
The front door opened. 
Both of you instantly moved, you sliding behind him and into the bedroom, Yoongi standing in front of you, masking your frame. The discarded shirt and jacket could be explained away – that's why you wore oversized men's clothes, usually in Yoongi's preferred color palette.
"Hyung?"
Oh, whew. Actually, wait. No, this was danger. 
"Ah, Jungkookie."
Yoongi placed his hand on your arm and you popped your head over the corner once you heard the door close. Yup. A swift shake of dark blue locks, white sweatshirt and loose black sweatpants, and that mischievous smirk with a wrinkle of his nose. 
Danger.
"Hey, noona!"
Damnnit, planning for two is hard! You couldn't just go put your shirt on and do the grand reveal again. Yoongi grasped your upper arm with his right hand and yanked you from the doorframe. You squeaked, body stumbling into Jungkook’s view.
"Did you plan this?" Yoongi asked with a cocked brow. 
Jungkook's eyes went wide. 
"Uh... no, but I like where this is going," Jungkook replied, smirk growing. 
The black lace bra stood out against your skin, strappy and elegant, molding to the swells of your breasts and the curve downward to your waist, matching the garter belt that disappeared into the black jeans you were wearing. You didn't usually wear lingerie. It wasn't practical and if you accidentally left something behind... it wasn't worth the risk. Yoongi and you took every precaution to not fuck this up. 
Therefore, you only wore lingerie on your private Instagram. 
Only showing little flashes, never the whole picture. And, really, you wore it in your photos to mess with them. It made you feel nice too, so it was a win-win. This set was familiar to Yoongi and Jungkook because you had worn the red version in the original Valentine’s Day themed photos. 
Again, you didn't usually wear lingerie, but Jungkook and Yoongi couldn't just post pictures on Twitter back-to-back, two-shot you, and not expect a damn reaction. That kind of shit wasn't tolerated! On top of all that, you had to wait and get properly tested before getting here. This pandemic extended your frustrations. So, yes, fuck it, you wore the damn lingerie that made you feel the sexiest. Even if your jeans were still on, you knew you looked good. 
No one had to tell you. You checked in the mirror before you left. 
"Is this your response to my text a couple days ago?" Jungkook teased, kicking off his shoes and bounding over to you two. His dark blue hair shimmered in the light, like a night sky covered with stars, smile pure and naughty at the same time, lighting up his whole face. 
Fuck you for being hot, Jeon Jungkook!
You leaned back against Yoongi, crossing your arms under your breasts, pressing them together. Jungkook grinned, the mole underneath his lower lip winking at you. 
"Something like that," you coolly replied. Shit, there was an edge to your voice. Hopefully neither Yoongi or Jungkook picked that up.
"Hmm..." 
Jungkook pursed his lips, the tip of his pink tongue sticking out the side. Ack. You had to look away. You turned and bumped your lace-covered tits against Yoongi's chest. His dark brown orbs flickered to your breasts, sly smile on his lips. 
"This is your fault too, by the way."
Yoongi raised his eyebrows, amused. "What do you mean?"
You dropped your hands, surveying him suspiciously. "You think I don't know? Posting right after Jungkook? That's not allowed! You know what that does to me."
Yoongi leaned forward. Your breath caught in your throat, heart beating fast all of a sudden. You backed up, right into Jungkook's chest. Uh oh. Yoongi hummed, black hair shadowing his face, devious sparkle in those dangerous eyes, his voice a raspy, purring drawl. 
"What does it do to you?"
Your hand fell back to brace yourself and Jungkook's fingers wrapped around your wrist, stroking your skin. You felt him shift behind you and then his lips were on your ear, whispering in his silvery voice. 
"Yeah, noona. Tell us.” His grip on your wrist tightened, squeezing lightly, asserting his presence behind you. “Or you can show us."
...
!!!
How dare they tag team you? First, they visually attack you – and millions of other ARMY – in the middle of the workday, and now this, Yoongi closing in, kissing you once more, deeper, hungrier, with dark intent, smirking against your lips as Jungkook took both your hands, ghosting his long fingers over yours. You whimpered into Yoongi's mouth, body tensing, Jungkook pressing himself into your back, breath against your hair. 
"You smell different," he murmured.
You couldn't reply. Yoongi was sucking on your tongue, making you whine. 
"Warm, sweet, and spicy."
Yoongi released you and you gasped for air, bucking into Jungkook's crotch. "I bought it last week... thought it smelled nice..."
Jungkook nuzzled your hair. "I like it. Makes me horny."
You laughed a little, turning your hands around in his to lace your fingers together. He held your hands firmly, grinding his crotch into your ass. You could already feel his arousal through your jeans.
"Sounds dangerous," you mused. 
"It is," Yoongi chuckled. "But you should keep wearing it anyway. You smell good."
Heat rose to your cheeks. Then you realized your jeans were already undone, being daintily pushed down by deft hands and an amused expression, Yoongi crouching to pull them along. Bit by bit, revealing the matching garter belt, the high-cut black lace panties that framed your thighs, and lace-topped sheer stockings, all the straps emphasizing your softness, sinking into your thighs and ass.
"Fuck..." Yoongi breathed, running his fingertips over the delicate fabric, touch so light against your skin, dancing up your knee. "You're so fucking beautiful."
He looked up at you, eyes so dark they seemed black, playful smirk on those perfect pink lips. Thump. You felt Jungkook pull your arms back and press them to his sides. You grabbed fistfuls of Jungkook’s shirt, staring down at Yoongi advancing between your legs, his smirk growing wider and more teasing, lovely voice low and husky, deep with arousal.
"What's the matter?" Yoongi purred. "Cat got your tongue?"
Your body tensed in anticipation, Jungkook's hands crawling around your sides, one tattooed, one not, fingers hovering over your now trembling chest. Looking down at Yoongi's smug expression, tongue flicking out and teasing you. Reminding you how good he was and how long you'd been waiting. 
Fuck you for being hot, Min Yoongi!
"Don't overexert yourself..." you breathed.
A sculpted brow lifted. 
"I have help now," he reminded you and Jungkook's hands sank into your barely-covered breasts. 
"Fuck..." Jungkook hissed into your ear, running his palms over your nipples, listening to your gasps as Yoongi dived between your thighs, hot tongue sliding against the lace. "Missed these tits so fucking much." His lips on your ear, growling your name, that dominant edge to his silvery voice, tweaking the hardened nubs while Yoongi teased your clothed clit with his tongue, the lace hardly a barrier but still an effective one, the rough threads plucking against your sensitive nerves.
How long had it been? So long, almost forever since Yoongi’s tongue was on you, soft and fast and the perfect pressure, deliberately teasing you and not moving the fabric aside, so close yet so far. If it wasn’t Yoongi, maybe you could tell him to move it, maybe you could beg, but you couldn’t speak because of Yoongi’s tongue and Jungkook’s rough touch, his hands on your breasts, pushing them together, your nipples poking tiny tents in the black lace, running his fingertips over them over and over, his hips grinding into your ass. Yoongi cupped one of your ass cheeks and spread them, your panties bunching in the center, Jungkook’s hardness slipping in, still covered by his sweatpants.
Wetter, hotter, sanity slipping little by little.
“Y-Yoongi… J-Jungkook…”
You tried not to shove your hips in Yoongi’s face, not wanting to strain his neck, and ended up pushing back instead, bouncing against Jungkook’s cock. The younger man snickered, nipping at your ear, pinching your nipples, and you felt a slick squelch as Yoongi’s tongue pushed the lace into your dripping pussy. The moans dragged out of your throat, eyelids fluttering, letting them do whatever they wanted, pleasure flooding all your senses, watching Yoongi wreck you, clutching Jungkook’s sweatshirt, panting their names, leaking more and more, the scent of your juices getting stronger and sweeter.
“This isn’t fair…” you panted. “I’m going c-crazy…”
Yoongi hummed on your clit and you cried out, hips rocking, so good, head tipping onto Jungkook’s broad shoulder, his long blue hair brushing against your cheek and eyelashes.
“Good, because you make us crazy,” Jungkook muttered, pushing your breasts together and squeezing them roughly. His voice was so deep you could feel your back vibrate with his words. His other hand came up and gripped your chin, trailing down and fitting around your neck, the loose sleeve falling and revealing his forearm tattoos, contrasting your lace-covered skin. “Always looking so fucking pretty and making me want to fuck you…”
His index finger came up and pressed against your lower lip. Those chocolatey eyes were watching your face from his peripheral vision, smirking as he witnessed your expression.
“Even showing off these sexy, fuckable lips. That’s not fair either, noona.”
“T-That’s not…”
Jungkook’s hand at your throat dropped and you yelped, his large palm fitting around your right thigh and lifting it up, fingers sinking in. Stockings, lace, garter, Jungkook’s touch, holding your leg up and out, giving Yoongi a perfect view of your glistening core. Then there was more, too much more, Yoongi pushing aside your panties, soaked fabric snapping against the inside of your thigh and then his mouth was directly on you, oh, fuck, his tongue on your throbbing clit, lips wrapped around it, pure suffocating ecstasy, your slick juices dripping down his chin, so easy, it was just too easy for Yoongi to make you feel so fucking good and he looked so sexy doing it too, those cat-like eyes piercing into you, ordering you to cum for him, to spill all over his beautiful face.
“Yoongi… fuck, your tongue is so fucking good–”
Your body rippled with pleasure and you flung your head to the side, away from Jungkook’s ear to moan far too loud, filling up the entire hallway, wanton and lewd, absolutely pornographic and sinful in nature, orgasm gushing into Yoongi’s waiting mouth, shuddering against Jungkook’s hard body. So many sensations, too many sensations. Yoongi sank his nails into your ass, growling as he sucked out your cum and drank it, Jungkook grinding his stiff length in between your ass cheeks, spreading your leg so far that your left one was quivering with strain, tits squashed in Jungkook’s left hand, his warm tongue on your ear, whispering darkly. Dirty, sensual, and your pussy couldn’t stop throbbing, Min Yoongi’s mouth and Jeon Jungkook’s low octave driving you insane.
“You look so fucking good, noona. Your body is so fucking perfect, so sexy wrapped up in lace,” he exhaled, sliding his palm over your nipples roughly, earning more depraved moans. He lowered your leg, slowly, Yoongi lapping at your clit, sending shocks of pleasure up your torso as he cleaned you off. Jungkook’s hand slid down over your stomach, flicking the straps against your skin, small snaps of pain that made you gasp, trapped in Jungkook’s power, letting him take over you. He took a step back, forcing you to arch your spine and look up at him, a curtain of cobalt surrounding that handsome face and those intense brown eyes.
No one could make you feel the way Yoongi made you feel. No one.
So...
Why did staring up at Jungkook like this do things to you? Why did it put your heart on a string and tension in your throat? Get it together. You weren't a teenager. Ask for what you want. He was just so insanely attractive in every way.
Jungkook smirked and you wanted him to ruin you. 
He lifted you up easily. You saw Yoongi standing up and wiping his chin, self-satisfied and amused. He tilted his head and plucked one of the straps on your stomach, a light, erotic sting. Yoongi made eye contact with you, locking you in his gaze. A single look, and your heart was fluttering, immediately smitten. One by one, fingers wrapping around a few of the straps and pulling you to him, backing up, leading you to the bed by own your lingerie. 
"Why today?" Yoongi drawled, tracing the curve of the bra cup, sending shivers over your skin. "Feeling risky?"
You raised a brow, focusing on him, trapped in those cat-like eyes. 
"Control yourself. Aren't you used to this body by now?"
Yoongi grinned devilishly, darting closer, leaving you breathless in his speed. The scent of his cologne and your orgasm lingered on his skin, a delicious combination. 
"Never."
Kissing you, taking your startled inhale, and you could taste yourself, fuck, just something about his skilled lips and your taste had your fingers twisting into Yoongi's shirt, rolling your body into his, still being so careful, but it was so hard because he was making it so hard, teasing you with that deft tongue, bursts of pleasure with every heartbeat you had while captured in Yoongi's lips. You missed it, this intensity, the overwhelming feeling that Yoongi gave you, being able to give in to the want, but you still couldn't give in without abandon, but you were so close. 
So close. 
Ruin me. 
He pushed you lightly and you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, the kiss suddenly broken, but the second touch was familiar now, one tattooed arm, one not, and you knew that if you fell, these arms could catch you.
Jungkook put you in his lap, your back touching his bare chest. Oh, shit. Before you could think much about it, he turned you so you were laying in his arms princess-style. He must have removed his sweatshirt while you were talking to Yoongi, but he still wearing his pants, now sitting in the side of the bed, blue hair messy from your hands and the removal of his clothes. Your arms hooked around his neck instinctively, not wanting to fall, but he had his right hand splayed across your shoulder blades, holding you up securely. 
"Mmm, this is nice," Jungkook murmured, playfully smiling. He nuzzled your nose, tongue flicking over your lips. "Why did you make us wait so long, hm?"
You frowned, breath against his chin. "The number of cases got higher... and you all were so busy... I couldn't get tested until recently."
Jungkook made a disgruntled noise. 
"Hey, public health and safety is important."
He pouted at you. "But..."
"He's horny and wants to fuck," Yoongi cut in.
"Hyung…!"
Yoongi pulled up his chair and sat down, looking amused. 
"He's been jacking off to your pictures."
"N-no, I haven't!"
"Really? I have."
Yoongi's face was completely neutral. It was hard to tell if he was lying or not. 
Jungkook tried to hide his flushed face with your hair. "... M-Maybe I h-have..."
"Tsk, tsk, naughty Jungkookie," you teased.
"Noona..."
"And you?"
You felt Yoongi grasp your chin, tipping you back in Jungkook's arms. Some of your hair fell over your eyes, hazing your vision of Yoongi. Even so, his intent was obvious. You could feel it in his gaze, the burning hunger, his fingertips caressing your chin, leaning forward slightly to observe you. 
I want to ruin you. 
Yoongi didn't have to say it. You knew it, pierced by the predatory glint in his eyes. You could tell he missed this, could tell that he wanted to give in to his desires, wanted to lose control, only limited by his own physical body.
However. 
He pressed his thumb into your lower lip, lifting a brow. 
Jungkook was here now.
Yoongi gave you his trademark open-mouthed smirk. 
"Ruin me," you whispered, staring into those cat-like dark brown eyes. The recognition was instant, pleased that you knew what he wanted. You shifted your attention to the maknae, his chocolate eyes wide, watching your tongue slide out and licking Yoongi's thumb. "Ruin me, Jungkook."
You loved the way Jungkook could turn from blushing anxiousness to sly confidence, and all it took was your words and the way you said them, enabling him in the best way possible. The dark blue hair helped accented the shift in demeanor, creating cool-toned shadows over his lightly tanned skin. 
"Anything for you," Jungkook purred.
You gasped sharply as you felt two fingers slide into you, Jungkook’s thumb rubbing your overstimulated clit. Your body jerked, trying to get away, but Yoongi's hand on your chin slid down, pressing on your chest, holding you still, your name a dangerous rasp from Yoongi's lips.
"Stay still."
Your eyes flickered down. Right hand. Okay. You shouldn’t be worried anymore, but you were. It was habit.
"Yoon–ah!"
You gasped, left arm firmly behind Jungkook's shoulders and the other behind you, your hand on the bed to steady your balance as Yoongi shoved the bra cups down, exposing your breasts. He lowered his head, the contact of his lips on your hot skin paired with Jungkook's thrust of his fingers into your pussy. Instant waves of pleasure overtook you, fingers sinking into the sheets and Jungkook’s hair, fuck, his beautiful navy hair standing out against your skin and, for some reason, seeing that made you feel prettier, thrusting your chest in Yoongi’s face to get more into his mouth, spreading your legs wide to give Jungkook more access.
Only a brief moment of, I should know better, I shouldn’t be doing this, and then Yoongi’s eyes were on you, tongue flicking your red nipple.
Let go.
Was this even fair to them? Could you satisfy both? Could you and should you? But Yoongi’s eyes were telling you to let go, to chase the feeling, to give in, and hunt the desperation and the want. They wanted you. There was nothing like this and there will never be anything like this again.
“Give it to me,” Yoongi growled.
You whined sharply as you felt two more fingers push into you, but not Jungkook’s fingers, Yoongi’s fingers, his thumb joining Jungkook’s on your clit and your eyes rolled back, so wet and aroused from knowing both Jungkook’s and Yoongi’s fingers were thrusting into you, four in total, your pussy sucking them in, back arching as Yoongi sucked on your nipple. So much pleasure, rapidly ascending higher and higher, so fucking full and tight that their fingers were making sloppy smacking sounds, matching rhythm so they filled you completely together, all at once.
You couldn’t stop your hips from meeting them, fingers spreading out in Jungkook’s hair and the sheets as you came hard, gasping their names, euphoria soaring through your nerves, and still they didn’t stop even though your pussy was violently spasming, creating a messy splatter of your juices on the inside of your thighs and their hands. Instead, the pace changed, Yoongi switching sides on your chest, and then you really couldn’t think, because Jungkook was lowering his head too, and now both of your nipples were getting abused, Jungkook’s arm firmly under your upper back to hold you up, not letting you fall.
“Yoongi, Jungkook… p-please, oh fuck!”
Your other hand flew up and buried in Yoongi’s dark locks, both hands in their hair now, one blue, one black, another orgasm crashing down, moan torn from your chest. And they kept going, changing the pace again, your toes and fingers curling, every muscle tense with irresistible, consuming ecstasy that you almost felt a little numb, unable to compute anything else but your body scantily covered in lace, two mouths sucking on your nipples, four fingers stuffed into you, clit engorged and sending violent shocks throughout your system. You couldn’t even discern one orgasm from another, pussy continuously throbbing and convulsing with the continuous, chained orgasms, so wet that it was soaking the tops of your stockings, the sweet honey of your cum the predominant scent in the room.
“I… I-I can’t take a-anymore, please…”
Your legs threatened to close but Yoongi snapped his head up, snarling your name dangerously.
“One more,” he ordered. “Give us one more.”
“Your pussy feels so good,” Jungkook panted, saliva dripping down your chest. “I love it so fucking much, even when it’s around my fingers.”
You were trying to hold back, trying to control it, tensing everything, your core, your legs, your arms, and you didn’t even realize it, but you held your breath too, biting your lip and seeing Yoongi and Jungkook at the same time, both watching you, fingers punishingly squelching into your tight little hole, stretching it out unforgivingly, abused clit pulsating so hard it almost hurt, and it was exactly what you wanted, brimming, boiling pleasure that threatened you on the brink, closer, closer, closer, and the world was almost hazy with how ferociously you had constricted the coil.
“Fuck!”
You threw your head back, back abruptly arching and smacking them in the face with your tits as everything came plummeting down, resolve cracking with a wanton howl, orgasm racking through your entire frame so hard that your body lurched and flinched, Yoongi and Jungkook cradling you while you rode your high, grinding your hips into their hands and carnally moaning, liquid gushing out and dripping down your legs, your ass, down Jungkook’s sweatpants and onto the bed.
It was such an intense orgasm that you were lightheaded, hands slipping out of their hair and falling down, drained, aftershocks causing your body to shudder, even as they removed their fingers. Your clit was still throbbing, pumps of pleasure spreading through you.
It was obscene witnessing Yoongi and Jungkook cleaning their fingers off right in front of you, pink tongues sliding between the digits, licking off your viscous cum, giving you a perverse sense of satisfaction when Yoongi moaned softly and Jungkook groaned lowly, savoring your taste like a fine wine. Yoongi spied your exhausted, smug expression.
“Do you think you’re done?”
You gave him a weak smirk. “I better not be.”
“Sit in Jungkook’s lap,” Yoongi said calmly. “Face me.”
You tilted your head curiously but did as you were told, shifting your still quivering legs so your thighs were on the outside of Jungkook’s thighs, the balance a little difficult, but Yoongi took your hands and placed them around his hips. You held onto him as he lifted his shirt, pulling it over his head.
“Jungkook, rip her panties off.”
Wait, what did Min Yoongi just s–?
Two strong hands dug out the lace trapped in your ass and fastened around the thin fabric.
Riiiiiiip!
“Yoongi!”
The shirt fluffed his black hair as he removed it, dropping it onto his chair. You glared at him as Yoongi looked down at you, expression blank, dark brown orbs full of mischief.
“You knew it was going to happen. If he wasn’t going to rip it, I was.” Yoongi placed his right hand on his left shoulder. His tone dropped, mockingly rueful. “You wouldn’t want me to hurt myself, right?”
Yeah, this was why you didn’t wear lingerie.
But, also, this was why you wore it today.
You felt Jungkook tugging off the now useless pair of panties, plucking them out from under your garter belt. Oh well. You liked the red more anyway. That’s why you had bought two sets, after all.
“Remind me to take all the bits before I go,” you grumbled.
“Sure, noona.” Jungkook dangled the said lacy bits next to your head. You narrowed your eyes and mouth into slits even though he couldn’t see. “I’ll put them in my pocket.” You felt him shove them into his sweatpants.
Were you… going to remember?
Yoongi beckoned you. You shot him a warning look, still annoyed, but Yoongi pointed down to your hands on his hips.
“Isn’t there something you want?” Yoongi mused in that raspy, dark tone, the one that made your irritation fade instantly and replace it with arousal. “Take it.”
He cocked his head, shading his dark eyes with his hair, pink lips parting, the slightest hint of a smirk. Challenging you. Go on. Show me how much you want me. Your body still buzzed with the aftermath of moments before and yet you still lowered your head, sliding your hips back, sucking in a breath as your puffy pussy lips touched Jungkook’s toned chest, smearing yourself on his skin.
“Ooh, I like this,” Jungkook murmured, leaning back a little to give you space. You rocked your hips into his torso, his muscles flexing under you opening, inflamed clit brushing against his hardness. You pushed Yoongi’s pants and underwear down, dipping your head, hearing Yoongi breathe your name lustfully.
“That’s a pretty picture.”
He was only semi-hard, but he was getting harder and harder, watching you grind against Jungkook’s pecs. You knew exactly how to get him the hardest, dipping down and latching your mouth around one of his balls.
“Fuck, yes,” Yoongi gasped, his hand coming up and fitting behind your head. You sucked it into your mouth and then extended your tongue, bouncing the other with your wet muscle while sucking the first one. The first time you did this, Yoongi was literally speechless, sputtering and confused at how you could stimulate both at once and in two different ways, sucking with your lips as your tongue flicked against the other, slurping slightly to add vibration over the sensitive skin. You felt his cock swell, smacking your cheek, fully hard at the combined sensations.
“I still don’t know how you do that,” Yoongi gritted out, keeping your hair away from your face.
“Do what?” Jungkook asked behind you, one hand on your ass and squeezing it.
“She can suck one of your balls and lick the other at the same time.”
“What?!”
You yelped at the sharp sting of Jungkook’s slap to your ass.
“How come you never did that for me?” Jungkook complained, whining a little.
You tried to lift your head, but Yoongi’s hand refused to move. You make a muffled noise of distaste, but Yoongi answered for you as you switched sides.
“Have you asked?” Yoongi replied calmly, sighing in satisfaction.
“How am I supposed to know she has porn star skills?”
“Is this a discussion for right now?” you mumbled into Yoongi’s balls.
“No, because you’re supposed to be swallowing.”
“Wha–”
The second your mouth opened, Yoongi nudged his cock between your lips and you wrapped them around it, moaning as his stiff length slid down your throat, so satisfying, his taste on your tongue, so delicious that you didn’t even want to complain, you only wanted to bob your head up and down, hands on his hips. Yoongi chuckled above you, guiding your head with his right hand, left loosely by his side. You slid your lower body up and down Jungkook’s chest, your increased slickness adding more stimulation.
“Fuck, that’s so damn hot,” you heard Jungkook groan. There was a rustle of fabric and then skin on skin, his muscular arm brushing against your stocking clad thigh with every stroke.
If only you could take a picture and could see how sexy you were, blowing Yoongi with his hand behind your head, tucking the head of his cock into your throat a little deeper every time you descended, your pussy sliding up and down Jungkook’s chest, and Jungkook furiously jacking himself off while watching you suck his hyung off, feeling your slippery clit throb against his skin.
Good thing the door was locked, because of any other member walked in on this, it might have become a damn foursome.
“Close,” Yoongi panted, fingers digging into your scalp. “You want it like this?”
You hummed approvingly in your chest, increasing your pace and fucking Jungkook’s torso harder, nearing your end too, Jungkook moaning louder and pumping himself harder. So many indecent sounds, skin on skin, mouth on skin, hand on skin, moaning, crying out around Yoongi’s cock, his saliva-covered balls smacking you in the chin, you ass slapping down on Jungkook’s chest.
Hot, wet, positively sinful.
The chain reaction started with Jungkook. He came suddenly, choking on your name, shooting up your chest, warm stickiness splattering onto your skin and you squeezed your eyes shut, moaning as you came all over his chest, slippery and sweet, drenching his skin, throat muscles tightening, Yoongi whimpering your name, a rare moment of lost control as he thrust his hips into your lips, coating your throat with thick hot strings, forcing you to swallow fast, the pressure satisfying and overwhelming, gulping it all down eagerly.
You did ask to be ruined.
Just… a little more.
Your eyes were still closed, lazily licking Yoongi’s twitching length. He was panting above you, gently stroking your hair, words so soft that they were almost inaudible.
“I love you…”
You went all the way down and Yoongi groaned, your tongue flicking the top of his balls, rapid, swift laps that made his cock swell again, bending against the roof of your mouth. Yoongi chuckled, knowing exactly what you were doing.
“Still want more?”
You backed up, panting hard, Jungkook’s cum clinging to your chest and lingerie, hair a mess from Yoongi’s hand.
“Want your cock in my pussy,” you demanded hoarsely. “Want you to fuck me, Yoongi.”
He pretended to think about it. “Hmm, I don’t know…”
You got off Jungkook’s lap, snaking around the younger man’s body, crawling onto the bed, eyes on Yoongi, his intense gaze following you, enticed by your movement. On all fours, hips in the air, dropping your chest down a little, the curve of your back accentuating the roundness of your bare ass. Still in your garter belt and stockings, your bra half-off, the lowered cups pushing your breasts together invitingly. Jungkook turned his head, pink lips parting as your fingers fanned out over the sheets, one eyebrow arching gracefully.
“Jungkook in front. Yoongi behind.”
“Do… Do you want a towel or something, noona?” Jungkook asked, blinking rapidly at your assertiveness.
“I want to get fucked and I want to get fucked now, so get over here.”
“Bed’s going to be a mess,” Yoongi remarked, moving quickly, shedding his pants and going for the nightstand, taking out a condom.
“We can sleep in Jungkook’s room,” was your dry reply, yanking Jungkook’s hips towards you after he removed his sweatpants.
“Wha– ack!”
You spread his legs out in front of you, eyes roaming over his naked body, admiring it all, his legs, his abs, his pecs, covered in your drying juices, his adorable surprised face, navy curls around his chiseled cheeks, chocolate eyes round and awed at your prowess. Your hands were on his knees, breasts hanging down, breathing hard, adrenaline humming in your veins.
“You are so fucking pretty it’s unreal,” Jungkook breathed.
You grinned.
“I can’t wait for you to fuck my face.”
Jungkook grinned back at you.
You dove down, tits bouncing before becoming squashed against the bed, Jungkook’s drying cum flaking off as you wrapped your lips around one of his balls, moaning as you felt Yoongi’s hands firmly grip your hips.
“You have to help me a little,” Yoongi murmured.
“I will, hyung.”
“I mean her too,” the older man chuckled, smacking your ass playfully. Your tongue flitted out, slurping at Jungkook’s other ball from the side of your mouth as you sucked the first one, wiggling your ass at Yoongi to indicate that you heard him. Jungkook yelped, hands slamming down onto the pillows and clutching them, moaning out your name.
“What the fuck, what the fuck, holy shit…” His head hit the headboard lightly, speaking to the ceiling and maybe even the higher power himself. “H-How...? Why does it feel s-so good…?”
You felt Yoongi slide in, so easy because of all those back-to-back orgasms, and yet he still hissed at your tightness, muscles holding him firmly. You could cry with how good it felt, Yoongi finally fully inside you once again, filling you up just the way you liked, knowing how to hit your deepest spot right away, skillful and wonderful. You licked up Jungkook’s now hard length, moaning deeply as you slapped your hips back into Yoongi’s crotch. Yoongi moaned to match yours, enraptured by the feeling.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed, nails digging into your ass. “Missed you so fucking much, my love.”
“I’ll do the moving, love,” you gasped back, squeezing Yoongi’s cock inside you. You reached for Jungkook’s right hand and grabbed it, planting it on your head. “Fuck my face, Jungkook. Please. Don’t hold back until you cum.”
Jungkook bit his lip, exhaling your name. “I think I love you.”
“And I definitely love you, so please give it to me.”
You closed your lips around him and sank down, looking up at him and his sweaty dark blue hair, his blown-out pupils, his outstretched tattooed arm, so fucking hot, fuck yes you loved him, him and his body and his work ethic and his sweetness and his firmness as he obeyed your command, thrusting into your mouth from below, filling your throat with the thick head.
Perfect.
You rocked your hips back to Jungkook’s rhythm, matching him, slow at first, but gradually faster, rougher, planting your hands on the bed for balance, completely focused on clenching your core and your mouth to fit the two cocks, giving them the maximum amount of pleasure that you could offer, suffocating them with tightness. It if was obscene before, it was ten times obscener now, Yoongi’s hand on your hip, barely having to move as you smacked your ass into him, Jungkook lurching you forward with his force, clenching his jaw as he chased his release, the bed screaming for help and none of you listening.
“You’re so fucking sexy, fuck, you always make me feel so good, can’t help but want you, need you, miss you so fucking much,” Jungkook gritted out, fingers curling in your hair, desperately and viscerally whimpering out your name as you tipped your head to change the angle, the sensitive head dragging against the roof of your mouth as he buried himself in your throat. “You’re so good to me, such a soft and tight mouth, fuck.”
You arched your back a little more, Yoongi hitting you deeper, hearing him suck in a tight breath at your movement.
“Tighter,” Yoongi growled. “I’m close, come on, give it to me.”
And then he smacked your ass with his open palm, making you moan around Jungkook’s thick cock, pussy clenching around Yoongi’s entire length, and then again, smack! Control slipping with every hit, falling into Jungkook’s pace, the sheer force of his hips pushing you down on Yoongi’s cock over and over, now only focused on hollowing out your cheeks and gripping Yoongi’s cock, the sudden twitching indicating that Yoongi was close, so close, holding out a little so he could watch you longer, torturing you just the way you liked, but he couldn’t hold out for long because you didn’t let him, walls pulsating around him brutally as you came, stuffed so full that you couldn’t think. Yoongi groaned your name, gripping your ass with both hands and digging his nails in your softness, cock jolting as he came in thick pumps, filling up the condom and swelling it against your walls.
It took Jungkook a little longer, but not that much longer, your mouth still locked tight and he hissed out your name, whimpering as he came down your throat, filling it with cum once again, so fast that you had to swallow hastily to breathe, and yet there was more, thick salty dribbles that made you moan, so delicious that you leaned into it, sucking Jungkook dry.
“A-ah, n-noona…”
Your body ached, flinching from oversensitivity, your mind swimming with pleasure. Had it ever felt this good before? You slid off Jungkook’s cock, falling against his thigh and using it like a pillow, chest heaving, sticky all over, lips overused, pussy throbbing, barely realizing that Yoongi had pulled out, far too spent to see straight.
“Fuck, I love you two…”
Yoongi’s face suddenly appeared, smug expression above you. He had crawled over your body, ruffled black hair hanging down, dark cat eyes gleaming.
“Romantic.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“Mmm.”
He leaned down and kissed you, smiling against your lips, mouthing his love to you, forming each word against your skin slowly so you knew. You smiled back, showering him with light pecks, mouthing the words back to him. Yoongi purred and lifted himself up, taking you with him.
“I can’t move,” you complained, using your arms to push yourself up to avoid straining Yoongi’s shoulders. He chuckled, not the least bit fooled by your whines. He pushed you into Jungkook’s hard chest, covered in sweat and cum, and sandwiched you between them, your face right beside Jungkook’s, cheek to cheek. You could feel the heat in his face, his hair sticking to it.
“Noona?”
“Hm?”
Everything was far too messy for this cuddle session, but that could wait.
“Is it okay if I love you?” Jungkook mumbled, burying his nose in your hair.
“Mhm,” Yoongi responded, sounding sleepy.
You brushed Jungkook’s hair away from his face. “I would very much like that.”
“Everything is dirty,” Yoongi grumbled.
“You are a main contributor,” you said cheerfully.
Yoongi grunted, leaning against you, squashing you a little harder against Jungkook. Nothing to complain about. You were enjoying every second of this.
“Jungkookie?”
“Hm, noona?”
You reached up and ran a hand through his dark cerulean hair. Jungkook hummed appreciatively, closing his eyes at your touch.
“You know this shade is Cookie Monster blue, right?”
“… Hah?”
“Does that make you Ggukkie Monster?”
Yoongi burst out laughing, raspy and full, a rare moment of Min Yoongi absolutely losing his shit.
-
part v "Sorry, Jungkook, you're not allowed this time."
--
masterpost
730 notes · View notes
vminity21 · 3 years
Text
The Art of You | myg
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Pairing: artist!yoongi x universitystudent!reader, friendshiptolovers!au
Word Count: 1,578
Genre: fluff/soft
Warning(s): None, Rated: pg
Summary: A painting Yoongi has been working on reveals his true feelings that he has for you in the most beautiful way imagined. Dedicated and was requested by @suhdays​ , who also created the beautiful banner for this blurb. Thank you.
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A tan apron clings to Yoongi’s frame while he scrunches the sleeves of his sweatshirt halfway up his arms. Converse pat along the plastic flooring while he settles the painting onto the ground. It is nearly finished, and the inspiration is revealed in just the smallest intricacies- details that remind him of you.  Gentle transmits of music reverberate within the small space, and he readies his paint upon the palette you gifted him a year prior before he discovered the budding emotions, he has for you.
Aligning a picture of what he plans on adding to the main canvas, he carefully traces the lining with his fingers, concentrating solely on whatever he intends on creating to make the masterpiece complete. Dark strands flop past his eyes while he positions himself over the canvas, palette steady in his left hand while his free hand grips the handle of a petite paintbrush. Two bracelets decorate his painting wrist, but he is ever so careful than to let them touch any part of the dampened streaks.
Heavy footsteps trample into the room, slinging your bookbag over a chair in the corner, a brief sigh brushes your lips. Yoongi knew you would be due soon from your class at university, and you are too exhausted to fully pay attention to what Yoongi is finalizing. He has been working on a new project for weeks now, but he refuses to tell you who it is for. Sometimes, Yoongi likes to keep to himself, especially when it comes to his art, yet he has been quite successful with some of the artwork he has accomplished and sold within the past year.
His lips grace a small smirk, happiness spreading along his chest with being in your presence- something he has been looking forward to all day. “Yoongi, I’m home,” you bellow, stacking a few notebooks onto the tiny table in preparation to continue the homework you would so graciously like not to do.
“About time you showed up,” he teases, swiping a bigger paintbrush along a plain sheet of paper to observe if this is the color he would like to use. Noticing the palette, he had set down for the moment, you smile to yourself. He really loves his palette- the only one he owns that you happened to give him, yet he refuses to buy more, especially since the one you bought him is covered in faint stains from past achievements. You never understood it, but he takes it with him everywhere he goes, and the one time he thought he forgot it, he almost lost his mind. Thankfully, Namjoon, Yoongi’s roommate, found it behind a dresser where it must have fallen without Yoongi’s knowledge.
“I still don’t get why you are panicking, Yoons. I am sure there are some palettes in one of these stores here,” plus you did not have any issue with purchasing him another one, “Want to check them out?”
“Not really,” he murmured, timidly looking away from you while he anxiously awaited the doting text from Namjoon. What you are unaware of, is that palette you surprised him with is the truest good luck charm he has ever received. Because of you, every time he used that specific palette, his artwork has been recognized by thousands of individuals throughout the country. Because of you, he is determined to continue his passion with the gift you gave him held firmly in his left hand.
“Okay,” you sigh softly in confusion, “Well then would you like to grab some coffee until Joon replies? I’m sure it will turn up.”
Yoongi shakes his head briefly to situate his hair while the memory dissipates for the time being. “How long have you been in here? Have you even eaten anything?” You always worry about him because when he gets too focused into what he is doing, sometimes he may forget to hydrate, as well as eat, yet you can relate due to college being so overwhelming. You notice the white mask tucked under his chin, his earrings gleam beneath the light, and you cannot help but fondly gaze at how handsome your friend is. You met him a year ago, and although you have always had feelings for him, you feared that he didn’t feel the same, and when you stumbled upon his talent for the arts, you were determined to gift him with something related to what he loves to do.
“I was thinking we could grab dinner as soon…” his words trail as he dots the brush along certain areas of the canvas. You can’t help but curiously tilt your head to see if you can figure out what it is, he is creating, but from the angle and distance from where Yoongi is, you can’t quite see it yet. “… as I am…” He is so enraptured in his work that he forgets to finish his sentence and you playfully shake your head at him before turning to your studies.
Uncertain of how much time has ticked away into the evening, you do not understand how Yoon’s thighs cannot be burning from how long he poses in deep concentration. “Who needs exercise,” you joke, running your fingertips along your eyes to awake them if even possible. “You know,” you bring your voice up in volume for Yoongi to hear, “I’m not going to lie, I’m actually excited to see what you’ve conjured up,” you confess; there has not been a completion that you haven’t loved from Yoongi’s extraordinary talent.
“It’s definitely different from what I’ve done before,”
“Oh really?” Your attention is now returned to your notebook and with pencil in hand, you scribble random lines along the sides to prevent yourself from blushing. He has such an effect on you, and you wonder how he hasn’t realized it. “What inspired it? Give me a clue.”
“You mean, who?”
Pausing, with furrowed eyebrows, you ponder through your brain on who Yoongi could be referring to. “It’s a who this time?”
“Believe it or not,” he says, and you hadn’t taken into account the way he places his hands on his hips, longingly staring at you while you rack your thoughts with whatever guess you can muster.
“Okay but where’s my clue?”
“Hm,” he hums to himself trying to not make it as obvious as he would like to, especially if it risks scaring you away. “She loves to getaway. More so when it’s cold and the atmosphere contains the scenery she needs.”
A she? Surprised by the revelation, your heart shatters in different directions, yet you compile yourself enough to remain composure. “A getaway?” You choke, trying to lower your voice to not appear as shocked as you feel. “I’m assuming in the winter?”
“Mhm,” Yoongi responds, “Sometimes she wishes that she could see flowers there though, especially the ones that are her favorite. It’s simply hard when there is always so much snow.”
“Um, is it-?” Despite the tears wanting to burn down your cheeks, you guess a few names that come to mind, hardly being able to realize that Yoongi is talking about you. Exasperated after you have guessed so many wrong answers, Yoongi’s arms drop to his sides while he exhales slowly, gathering himself before sauntering to you. When a soft hand presses to your cheek, you lose all track of sanity; his lips touch yours so gently, it takes you a moment to realize what is happening. Oh! You gasp inwardly. Oh, you want to laugh at yourself for now you see that every fact he uncovered about his painting was him hinting about you.
Your fingers curl into his sweatshirt while you pull him closer, deepening the kiss while your heart flies sporadically along your ribcage. This whole entire time- he has been working on a painting inspired by you. And, this entirety of your friendship, he has thought of you lovingly as much as you have thought about him?
Breathless, he pulls away, but just enough to rest his forehead upon yours, his bangs tickle your face. “Are you ready to see the painting?”
Nodding, you are at a loss for words, the sensation of his kiss still lingering while he takes your hand. Following suit, he bends swiftly to lean the piece against the wall, accepting your hand in his once again as soon as it steadies. Gasping, your eyes widen at the most beautiful scenery you have ever witnessed. Snow capped mountains sketched meticulously with splashes of blues and greys mingle in precise detail to the sparse blades of grass poking from the blanket of white covering the ground. The sky alludes to the beginning of a snowfall, but what your vision gathers in the center of the painting is what touches your heart in ways Yoongi has always been able to prompt.
A bundle of magenta peonies are painted to be growing in resistant to the brutal winds of winter, and in tiny, neatly stroked letters exposes the words you never thought you would hear, or in this case, read.
“I love you.” Yoongi whispers, squeezing your hand as you take it all in.
“Yoongi, it’s- it’s the most beautiful gift.” You cry, him embracing you immediately, the scent of his sweatshirt reaching your nostrils as you cuddle into his frame. “I love you so much.”
And with that, forever awaits, Yoongi expressing his love in a way only he knows how- painted contentedly to the art of you.
128 notes · View notes
catsandstrawberries · 4 years
Text
Proud of You
Pairing: OT7 BTS x graduating reader PLATONIC! (also could be seen as 8th member)
Summary: Due to the coronavirus, your whole senior year has been destroyed, chewed, and spit out by the universe. You start to get depressed once your robes come, but the boys know just how to make you feel better.
Warnings: The reader kind of gets depressed, Americanized because American graduation and Korean graduation are a little different, like 2 swear words, but nothing else. Lots of fluff!
A/N: This is intended to be for high school seniors but words for college seniors as well, could be a stand alone read or a continuation of Real Family. 
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“(Y/N), your package came!" 
I ignored Namjoon’s yell and cuddled back into the multitude of blankets that swaddled me in a large cacoon. 
Quarantine was not faring well with me. 
In retrospect, I had it a lot better than most people. I was surrounded by my seven brothers who I loved unconditionally and didn’t have any issues with food shortages or internet issues, but I wouldn’t be able to graduate. That was hard to come to terms with. After twelve long, hard years working at school, and only to be denied all of my senior privileges, seeing my friends, and the top of the cake, graduation. It honestly sucked. But, instead of facing my feelings, I’ve camped out in my bedroom listening to Lo-fi and pretending as if my mental health wasn’t suffering. 
”(Y/N)!“ I groaned with protest, rolling out of bed with no care about my ragged appearance. My hair stuck up at odd angles, and my baggy t-shirt and sweatpants weren’t the most attractive outfit I’ve worn. I trudged towards Namjoons shouting voice, ignoring the flambergasted look Jin gave me, and Yoongi’s voice shouting at me to take a shower and that I smelled like Hoseoks dirty socks. 
"Oh, you look…” I gave Namjoon an annoyed look, 
“dead to the world? Depressed? Annoyed? Sad?” I finally looked down at the package, a medium-sized box shipped from the school. 
I frowned, a sneaking suspicion about what it was creeping up on me. I picked up the box and carried it to the kitchen island, quickly grabbing a pair of scissors from the closest drawer and cutting open the top of the cardboard. My frown only grew as I spotted the robes and cap inside the box, the robe that I would never wear because my diploma was going to come shipped to me, like a useless piece of paper. 
I ignored the crowd watching me from the sidelines and crawled back to my dark hole of depression, otherwise known as my room. Little did I know the boys were setting a plan into motion before I even shut my door.
Netflix seemed to be my only saving grace. My little kid floaties as I attempted not to drown in the big kid pool. I was just about to finish one of the most important cinematic moments in history, Jane giving birth in the tv show Jane the Virgin. But the show all of a sudden started to buffer, and soon a notification on my computer was telling me the wifi connection failed. Aggravated, I tried to re-type the password only for my computer to tell me it was wrong. I stomped to my door, ready to scream at Jungkook for messing with the wifi only to find the exact boy and Jimin standing in front of my door.  
“Uh, hi?” The two looked very suspicious and both their hands were behind their back as if they were hiding something. 
“Is something wrong?” Jungkook asked, trying to bite back a smile as if he knew he was messing with me. Before I could interrogate him Jimin was elbowing him in the ribs, 
“don’t be a brat, Koo.” Jungkook grumbled, and suddenly Jimin was shoving a cardboard box into my arms, the same cardboard box with my graduation outfit. 
“Wha-" 
"You should try it on.” Jimin pushed, a gleaming look behind his eyes that told me he was planning something. 
“Why-" 
"If you don’t try it on and come show us, then we won’t tell you the new wifi password.” My jaw dropped as Jungkook let a sly smirk cross onto his face. Those sly dogs. I sent a harsh glare to the two of them, 
“fine, but I’m choosing dinner tonight.” Jimin exchanged a glance with Jungkook then ruffled my poor excuse of hair, patting down some of the large knots.  
“You drive a hard bargain, deal.” I couldn’t help but smile at their ridiculous antics but before Jimin could shove me back into my room Jungkook was adding, 
“be sure to brush your hair though, you look like the walking dead." 
The door shut before the hairbrush I threw could hit his head.
——–
The body length mirror in front of me only made me more anxious and sad as I looked over my uniform. The robes weren’t exactly attractive, but they fit, and the sad memories of never being able to walk with my friends or give a speech, fully appreciate the process of graduation only soured my mood. I ran a hand through my freshly brushed hair, I styled it slightly in preparation of being included in a V-live or some other event that showed my face to the public. I wasn’t an idiot, the boys wanted me out of my room, and to look nice so I assumed they would show me off to Army to try and lift my spirits. I didn’t want to do this. A part of me wanted to crawl back into my bed and snuggle under my fluffy blankets, call Jin and tell him that I wasn’t feeling well. They might buy it if I lie and say I’m on my period. Even though I was close with the boys, that was the one thing that always freaked them out, and got them off my back. Just mention blood coming out of their younger sister’s vagina and you’re no longer being teased, a full proof plan. I sighed and leaned against the cool wood of my door, my hand hovering over the metal doorknob. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad idea, just smile and take a few pictures then you can go back to your room, yeah 30 minutes tops, then I’d be out of there. 
With that final boost of confidence, I opened the door only to find Yoongi standing at the end of the hallway, dressed in the fancy blue sweater he only wore to important events. 
"Is this a blue sweater event?” I questioned jokingly, but his gaze was still locked on my outfit, and once I got close enough he fiddled with the tassel on the top of my cap.
“I’m so proud of you.” I snorted at his cheesy words, raising an eyebrow, 
“for what?” He shrugged as if it was no big deal and offered his arm out to me,  
“for being you.”
Yoongi led me into the dark living room, and my eyes barely had a moment to adjust before the lights were blasted on. My own eyes winced at the onslaught of light, but once they adjusted my heart did cartwheels at the sight in front of me. Gold and silver balloons and streamers hung around the room, inflatable letters spelling out graduation hung at the front of the room where Namjoon stood in front of a pedestal, the other boys lined against either side, creating a clear pathway for me. They were all dressed in nice clothes and once I got close enough they each handed me a slip of paper, diploma, written in crayon or colored pencil highlighted at the top of each paper. A personal message below each of them. I couldn’t help but laugh at that, especially after seeing Hoseok misspell graduation in crayon and have to cross it out to rewrite it. Once I was finally in front of Namjoon, he looked at me with one of the proudest and genuine smiles I had ever seen. 
“Wow, (y/n) looks so much better in her graduation robes then you did Jungkook,” Taehyung whispered cheekily and an embarrassingly loud laugh erupted from my chest at his words and the comedic look of betrayal that crossed Jungkooks face. Namjoon cleared his throat and then glared at the two before turning to face me, 
“Dear class of 2020, It is my greatest honor to be your commencement speaker as you head off to do great things in your lives, as you face graduation day, ready to take on a life full of brand new colors, a palette of opportunities and-” Namjoon filtered off and loosed the bow tie around his shoulder before walking around the pedestal and standing in front of me. “(Y/N), I am so proud of you. I can only imagine how hard this must be for you, balancing all the things you do, from school, to work, living with us, I know we aren’t the easiest family-" 
"Excuse you I’m fucking fantastic and (Y/N) appreciates me and our relationship,” Jin spoke up unashamedly, but a grin spread over his face and he was suddenly showing us two thumbs-ups which transferred into hearts. 
“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, we just want you to know that we’ve seen how hard you’ve worked and that we will always be here for you. Even after you get your diploma, and face other big events in your life.”
I couldn’t hold back, and my arms were instantly wrapping around Namjoon in a bone-crushing hug, tears forming in the corners of my eyes as Namjoon spoke, 
“congratulations (y/n), you graduated." 
I’ve been through a lot with the boys, a lot of good memories. From concerts to hangouts, to awards, that time Jin got his tonsils out and thought Namjoon was Britney Spears, but this by far was my favorite memory with them. Or at least a close tie to the Britney Spears moment. Before I could wipe away the tears forming in my eyes Hoseok popped a confetti launcher, the loud bang scaring me out of Namjoons arms as Hobi attacked me in a hug. 
"Our strong girl graduated.” He wrapped his arms around me and jumped up and down excitedly, forcing my body to jump with him. 
“Let her go Hyung, I want a hug too.” I jumped into Tae’s arms as soon as Hobi let go of me, and smiled while he gently wiped away the tears trailing down my face. 
“You better be hungry (y/n), because I made every single dish you ever remotely mentioned you liked.” At the mention of food, I suddenly became aware of the onslaught of smells coming from the kitchen, sensations that made my stomach growl in hunger. Jimin pinched my cheek adoringly and I swatted his hand away, 
“I know we said you could pick dinner, but Jin-Hyung really wanted to cook for you-” I cut him off and stood on my tippy toes to kiss his cheek, 
“thank you Jimin, really." 
"Don’t thank Jimin, this was all my idea!” Jungkook shouted from the other room while Jin smacked him for trying to get into the food without the rest of us. 
“Excuse you! This was a joint effort, don’t try and get all the attention.” Yoongi joined in on the shouting while Namjoon sweated, 
“if anything I should get extra credit for giving the speech-" 
"You begged to do the speech!" 
I chuckled while Tae wrapped an arm around my shoulder, 
"Congratulations graduation girl, you deserve it.” Before I could thank him, shouting erupted from the kitchen, while Tae blanked in front of me. 
“Shit, they got into the silly string.”
389 notes · View notes
dulcaet · 4 years
Text
paint my heart | yoongi
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synopsis. you should have known that, over time, paint crumbles, and that time spare no one, not even the colors adorning your heart. 
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pairing. yoongi | reader  genre. angst word count. 2,043 warnings. none
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initially, there had been only an immensity of white. a simple, but gigantic, empty canvas ready to be offered to those wishing to add to it the most beautiful colors that existed. 
the life you lived was lulled by neutral feelings; your smiles were real but not bright, your eyes lit but not sparkling. the days were passing by, some slowly, others more quickly. they were chaining each other to the rhythm of the clock hands in your kitchen. the work you had managed to get was perfectly supporting you financially and you took great pleasure in learning what the profession of a sound engineer consisted of. everything was fine. but everything could be better. and everything would become soon. unfortunately, you didn’t know that yet.
you'd never consider your life boring, but sometimes monotony could be hard to bear. it, who always stood behind you, like your shadow, to remind you of the lack of laughter, smiles, adventure in an empty, gray life.
weeks, and months passed, that infinity of white still painting your mind. no painter had put his brush on your canvas, not coloring it with pearly, colorful hues, which would form the most beautiful of the artwork: that of a fulfilling life.
then, suddenly, there was an infinite number of colors. a palette covered with paintings all different from each other. blue. green. yellow. red. purple. one had been searched for the most beautiful pigments in the world, carefully making from them colors that all the greatest painters could have envied.
it had started as a normal day, a day tinted in white. you had stopped in the break room to drink your coffee before climbed to the third floor to reach the studio where your superior was waiting for you. the habit having taken over the rest, you had not knocked, judging that your arrival had already been announced a few seconds earlier by a message from your part.
maybe you should have.
“i’m really sorry, i didn’t think this studio would be busy!”
nervousness had taken hold of your heart, dragging it into a frantic waltz. a man sitting on a sofa whose upper body was leaning towards the coffee table had turned to the door squeaking. a pen in the hand, fingers stained with ink, glasses placed on the nose. this face, no, this portrait perfectly drawn by the hand of the most talented painters, you had seen and seen it again. on social media, in advertisements, on youtube. not a day had passed without you noticing this face so beautifully carved.
and he had been standing in front of your astonished face.
he had smiled with all the kindness present in the world and had looked at the time on his watch before apologizing for exceeding the scheduled hour.
“hello.”
“hello.”
this exact moment was your first meeting with min yoongi. the first of dozens of others.
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a smile drawn on your two faces, fingers intertwined, the streets of capital had never looked so pretty. the yellow of the streetlights, the orange of the car flashers, the red of the store signs. the moon at its highest point reflected your candid faces, illuminating it in white and pastel blue. she was watching you, smiling at this birth of love.
adoration was a feeling whose aura could almost be seen as powerful as it was. these heartbeats rhythmed in unison, these candid laughs, all these little special touches reinforced the beauty of the idyllic picture that was painting in front of the moon’s eyes.
“yoongi, look!”
one hand holding your straw hat so it wouldn’t fly away, the other pointing to a multi-colored bird on a tree branch whose leaves were colored with a resplendent green hue. the smell of freshly cut grass intoxicated passers-by, plunging them into a euphoria that only summer could provoke. this feeling of being invincible, encouraged by the rays of the sun whose reflections chase away the patches of shadows, the bad memories. the five silk trees formed a globe as enchanting above the park letting these so-called rays of light pass through. the sweet pale pink flowers lowered themselves and rose to the rhythm of the wind oh so quiet.
summer was your favorite season, it was synonymous with holidays, sunshine, tranquility. happy to be able to enjoy the good weather, little laughs escaped from your lips without you noticing.
the characteristic noise of a camera caught your attention. turning your head, eyes obstructed by strands of hair, your gaze rested on the man standing a few meters from you. he was smiling at his screen, fiddling with the buttons of the device. curious, it was with a bouncing step that you walked towards him, making your light white and pink dress twirl. arriving at his height, you lean towards him, tiptoeing to see what seemed to hypnotize him. a grimace on your face, you quickly put a hand on the screen to hide the picture.
“delete it! i’m hideous!”
“don’t say things that are impossible.”
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the pupils trembling, you watched the surroundings, hoping to see yoongi’s silhouette. you had begun waiting more than three-quarters of an hour ago on the forecourt of the restaurant where you had booked a table two months ago. there was no apparent reason for this event, if not to celebrate your love. it had been several days since you had seen him because of his rehearsals, so, excited to finally spend an evening with him, you had got all dressed up.
however, the soft light of day had darkened, giving way to this vast world called the night. the delight that had hitherto decorated your face, making it up in the prettiest of ways, for joy had this powerful power, had disappeared, dropping that mask on the concrete ground. as the dim light of the streetlamp illuminated you, all the gravity of your face increased, painting a face of sorrow.
one hand was rubbing your upper arm, the wind chilling you, the other furiously tapping on your phone’s keyboard.
me to yoongi ♡
where are you?
helloooo?
please respond! it’s cold out there.
well????
yoongi ♡ to me 
something came up. don’t wait for me. grab yourself something, i’ll pay.
a lump appeared in your throat, as did the pain that pierced your heart. you remained still, however, letting it spread in the hope that this horrible sensation would go away if not interrupted. what you did not know, for love blinded the heart and confused the thoughts, was that a piece of the first one was now laying at your feet.
a drop of grey paint fell on the canvas, staining the blue sky adorned with white clouds.
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the clock above the kitchen counter reminded you how pathetic you were, standing until way too late at night in hope of catching sight of the man’s face you had got into the habit of calling your boyfriend. if you could still define him like this. a silence had taken place in the empty apartment, a silence that even seoul’s frenetic life could not break. you were sitting on the couch with your eyes staring at nothing but void. your pupils previously illuminated by the candor of love were no more than two impenetrable walls. you seemed empty, as empty as a hollow shell. your inner state represented the vision your apartment gave. whether it was the pieces of furniture, the frames hanging on the wall or the decorative plants; all were tinged in the same gouache.
nowadays, the colors had worn out. overtime, you supposed. time was, after all, one of the main enemies of love, especially when it became rare.
oh, how much you hated gray. it colored your life with a monotonous color where everything seemed sad, an impression so different from the explosion of colors that your retina had become accustomed to seeing. there was nothing but grey. grey everywhere. in your body, in your eyes, in your heart. the latter seemed to have been impregnated with it. it would not be surprising to see the normally red carmine liquid flowing through your veins turn into a grey color. a plain grey, without any reflection; there wasn’t light anymore.
no more conversations until late at night. no more encouraging little messages on your nightstand. no more signs of affection, whether expressed in the form of a kiss, an embrace or even a smile.
there was nothing left.
nothing more except a weariness that did not seem to want to leave your life. it was now an integral part of your routine. many times, you had wondered if you had become paranoid. yoongi was a busy man. everyone knew this detail about him, you knew about this and for a long time, this detail had been one of the reasons for your reluctance to engage yourself in this relationship. this fear, which was ubiquitous at each moment of your life. this fear was flowing in your veins. the fear of being sidelined.
for more than a year, he had succeeded in proving you wrong. he had shown you that even though his career was a source of significant demands and that his schedule would always be a delicate thing, the love he had for you would overcome that.
he had forgotten to point out that all these wonders would only last a while, the attractive illusion giving way to the harsh reality.
things had changed.
suddenly, as if in slow motion, your face, which had lowered in defeat, rose up when you heard the door open. without you being able to control your body, your eyes began to sparkle, your pupils dilated, your heart racing. overtime, through missed appointments, repeated absences, nights alone, you had learned to hate these physical reactions. how sad it was to achieve such a critical stage that your only possibility was to hate the love you had for him.
he did not undress nor did he take off his coat, merely heading to your room, whose sheets now seemed constantly frozen. not a look. not a word. it was almost as if you were just a mirage, something that didn’t exist or that wasn’t interesting enough to deserve attention.
“don’t wait for me, i’ll be late.”
the door was slammed, silence set in, a silence that was cut off by your sobs. you were crying, more than you had ever done in your life. in your tears came all the frustration, the sadness but also the pain that a lost love could cause to an already weakened heart. your thoughts were black, blacker than the ocean after a hurricane, your mind filled with disarming memories.
two long minutes passed. the grey darken. you swallowed, holding back a trembling sigh that reflected your sorrow. with your eyes focused again on your stress-bit nails, you ignored him when he came out of the room with a bag on his shoulders. this scene was recurrent, so recurrent that it was certain you could play it in your head. knowing this, no ounce of surprise crossed your mind when he uttered that sentence. that damn sentence.
someone once said, “happiness is screamed, sadness is written.”
you had always known how to transcribe your emotions perfectly on the paper. however, today, for the first time in your life, you faced a writer’s block. the page was blank of words, not strong enough to describe what you were feeling. a page that was soon flooded with tears, the revenge of this sadness that had been held back for too long.
min yoongi had never been yours. not even for a second. you should have known this. it had been obvious. you should have known his heart belonged to music.
with each of the tears that wet the notebook, making the black ink drool, it permeated the immensity of paper until there was only one color left to the eyes of everyone.
the canvas had now become black.
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bts-fantasy · 5 years
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The Boy Next Door
Genre: Thriller AU
Characters: Yoongi, Hoseok x Reader
Next
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You woke up in the early morning to the sound of brids chirping. Yawning loudly you got up and opened your blinds to let the morning sun shine into your room looking at the clear sky your mood got lifted even more after being woken up by the peaceful sound of nature. You had a feeling that today was going to be extra special.
Suddenly you heard a loud bang outside and a deep voice shouting curse words. Your eyes shifted to the guys standing in the driveway next to your house one of them trying to lift up a heavy-looking box.
„Ah, shit! I hope you didn‘t break anything“, the guy shouted, who seemed like the older brother of the one who’d dropped the box on the road. He kept carrying one box after the other into the house next to yours while the younger was staring at the box in front of him as if it was a math problem.
His thin figure was slightly struggling to hold the heavyweight up for too long and he put it down once again with an annoyed expression looking around to check his surroundings as if he wanted to make sure no one was looking his way. His hair was tousled and black as ebony his clothes that were loosely hanging over his body were all in the same color palette of dark grey, black and blue.
Soon his eyes darted up staring directly at you catching a glimpse of your gaze right before you disappeared from your window.
Your heart was beating rapidly inside of your chest for being caught staring and you quickly moved to your bathroom to get ready for school. You put on a black turtle neck sweater with white pants and went downstairs where you could hear your mom fidgeting with the mixer already.
„Mom, are you baking a-“, you stopped as soon as you walked into the kitchen spotting your mom cracking eggs into the batter.
„...cake, for the new neighbors.“
You smiled at her as she nodded. It was a tradition for you two to welcome a new neighbor with your mom’s homemade cake.
„Yes. I saw them arrive this morning and introduced myself to them. They seem to be very nice people.“
You hummed in response taking a bite of the pancake that was already set on a plate on the table.
„Mhmm... delicious! Thanks, mom!“
A bashful smile spread across your mother‘s face since she still struggled with compliments despite the amount she received.
„I‘m glad you like it Y/N. Now hurry up or you‘ll be late for school!“
Finishing your breakfast quickly you left the house after saying goodbye to your mom and ran up to the bus station just in time to catch the bus.
A few minutes later you walked through the big wooden doors entering your school where you were met with the loud noises of students talking and lockers smashing. You walked to yours taking out the textbooks you needed for your classes as you got tackled by someone from behind.
„How was your weekend, Y/N?“, Hoseok‘s loud voice startled you and you turned around with wide eyes that shut him up immediately.
„Sorry, I know you told me not to yell at you first thing in the morning.“
He averted his gaze with a pout but you couldn‘t help but giggle at the adorable expression. It was funny how your friend was sensitive to loud noises but was the loudest one himself.
„It‘s okay. My weekend was so much fun! And with fun I mean I‘ve been working on my assignments non-stop and I haven‘t seen sunlight in two days“, you faked a smile as Hoseok looked at you as if you‘d gone completely crazy. He bent down to meet your eyes studying your face carefully.
„Yep. It‘s clear. You need help.“ He nodded earning a playful punch from you in return as his loud laugh filled the hallways. The bell rang and the hallways emptied quickly everyone walking into the classrooms and you and Hoseok started your day with a good mood.
„Is he hot?“, Hoseok whispered after a few seconds causing your eyes to grow wide looking at him. You‘d just told him about your new neighbors and the embarrassing incident, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks once again at the thought of it. Hoseok kept staring at you with expectant eyes waiting for your answer but you simply didn‘t know what to say so you just shrugged averting your eyes.
Hoseok sighed shaking his head at your response clearly disappointed he shifted his attention back to the teacher in front of you and so you continued the rest of the classes for the day trying hard not to fall asleep.
„Mom, I‘m home!“, you yelled the sweet smell of freshly baked cake engulfing you as soon as you set foot into your house.
„Oh, perfect! Can you please bring this over to the new neighbors? I have an important video conference with one of my clients.“
Your mom‘s eyes were sparkling at the mention of her client. She worked as a full-time artist and selling your artwork was a difficult business and it was always great news when she got a new client who was ready to buy one of her beautiful paintings. So you nodded taking the cake that was carefully packed in a tin and made your way over to your new neighbors. You heard your mom shout a ‚thank you‘ behind you as you closed the front door already dreading the encounter in front of you. You were hoping that his older brother would open the door since you were still too embarrassed to meet the one who‘d caught you this morning.
Walking up the few stairs, you finally stood in front of the black wooden door fixing your hair before pressing the bell right next to the brass sign that read ‚Min Brothers‘. You held your breath as you heard the loud bell sounding through the entire house and someone shouting inside.
„Open the door, Jae!“, a deep voice shouted inside.
„Get your ass up from the couch and get it yourself!“, you heard another voice shout that you recognized as the older one. After a few curse words you heard slurping footsteps nearing the door automatically causing you took a step back as a precaution. The door opened revealing the older brother whose eyes widened in surprise to see you standing there.
„Oh, hey...“, he spoke lowly as you tightened the grip around the cake tin. His black hair was almost covering his eyes which made it hard for you to read his expression. You couldn‘t tell if he was annoyed by your visit or not.
„Uhm... this is for you. My mom made it as a welcome gift“, you spoke rapidly only wanting to disappear but you soon saw his lips pull into a shy smile as he accepted your gift with a bow. He ran his fingers through his hair to get the strands out of his sight so he could look at you properly. His gaze wandered up and down your face examining your details in a calm manner but it made you freeze in your spot your mind racing with thoughts about what to do or say next.
„Thank you...“, he dragged his words implying for you to introduce yourself which you‘d completely forgotten in the heat of the moment. As if you were stung by an adder you realized how dumb you were acting in front of your new neighbor and you quickly introduced yourself with a nervous laugh.
„Sorry, my name‘s Y/N. I live in that house over there“, you pointed towards your house but stopped to look back at the guy when you heard his chuckle.
„Yeah, I know.“
Your eyes widened immediately at his words and he noticed your gaze before he quickly added: „I saw you this morning when you ran to the bus station.“
Your cheeks turned red but you were glad that he didn‘t mention the window incident as you nodded with a shy smile.
„I‘m Min Yoongi, by the way. It‘s nice to meet you, Y/N.“ Your name rolled off his tongue so smoothly it made you shiver and you nodded with a timid smile.
„Uhm... I think I should head back home...“, you said after a long pause stepping down the stairs ready to leave but you stopped when you heard his deep voice speaking up again.
„I‘ll see you around.“
Before you could reply the door got closed and you quickly left as you felt like an intruder standing all alone on their front porch.
Finally, back in your room, you turned your laptop on to work on your homework for the next day as your phone suddenly rang with an incoming message. You furrowed your brows at the unknown number as you opened the message only to feel your blood freeze in your veins.
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You tossed your phone away standing up so fast that it knocked your chair over with a loud crash. Looking around your room panicked you moved to your window to see if there was someone outside but all you could see was an empty street illuminated by the lamp posts surrounding your little neighborhood. You closed your blinds quickly trying to calm yourself down as you stood in the middle of your room staring at your phone that laid upside down on your desk, too scared to pick it up again.
„Y/N? Is everything alright?“, you heard your mom‘s voice coming from downstairs startling you again. She must‘ve heard the loud crash of your wooden stool and you knew how scared your mom was of loud noises after everything that went down with your dad. You composed yourself quickly holding onto your elbows to prevent yourself from shaking as you replied to her.
„N-no mom, don‘t worry it was just my chair.“
You walked over to pick the knocked over furniture up again your eyes shifting to your phone as you kept staring at it. Only one question haunted your mind the same words repeating over and over again in your head.
Who was it?
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A/N: It‘s finally out! The first part of my halloween series!👻 I sat down with my roommate today to work out the plot and I gotta say that I‘m very, very excited for this one!!🥳
I hope you guys enjoy reading this and comment your thoughts and also if you want to be included on the taglist!😁👍🏽
Stick with me until the end because you don‘t wanna miss it I promise🥺
Thank you all for reading, I purple you!💜
(Btw don‘t get confused when you see my main acc respond to your comments (@thedreaming-poet))
Masterlist
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vin-taege · 5 years
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BTS Tag
First BTS song:Dope 
First bias: Before hopping from bias to bias, it was Jin. I remember seeing him in that doctor costume for the first time and thinking: “Mhmm that’s it, chief.” 
Current bias:Taehyung, my art hoe, my love, mr. big dick energy
Put the members in order of bias:?? can I cram all of them in one spot ??
Fave BTS song:Oof either Fake Love or Anpanman 
Fave song from Wings: Cypher Pt.4 because that shit’s a power anthem
Fave song from LY:Go Go Fave underrated song:Is Baepsae underrated? How about Satoori Rap? 
Fave music video:Blood, Sweat and Tears, hit me with that aesthetic
Fave dancer: Jimin because damn graceful boy 
Fave vocal:Taehyung with his wide-ass vocal range
Fave rapper: lil meow meow
Fave colour on each member:aside from bst’s whole color palette;
namjoon - lilac 
jin- bRING THE PINK HAIR BACK PLS KING
yoongi - black yes or white
hoseok - light brown
jimin - S I L V E R/balck bc i miss his prince eric look
taehyung - red/blue/blonde yellow
jungkook - reddish purple mhm yes that hair color 
Fave choreo: Blood, Sweat and Tears Fave ships: Minjoon (underrated smh), Taegi (I feel like this is also underrated??) Taekook, Namjin ofc, Yoonseok
tagging: @go-setyoursoulonfire @once-you-jimin-you-can-jimout @bbyjin @lthyl @blueberrymidget (do your Save Me boys proud) @jooniper (hello, I see you a lot!)
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crystalseok-blog · 6 years
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yoonseok au | the blue bloom
Yoongi is colorblind, but everytime he is happy he can see shades of blue. Ever since he met Hoseok, he doesn't see just blue, but his life is also colored with violet.
Hoseok is a warm palette. Sunkissed skin, caramel hair, warm personality. He has pretty shades of red in his soul, red of warmth, enthusiasm, love, kindness and strength.
Red and blue together make purple, just like Yoongi, when he's with Hoseok, is able to see violet.
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for-yoongi0309 · 2 years
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gukyi · 6 years
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twp; sneak peek (2)
very brief summary: for eight months, you and jungkook are forced to put your massive differences aside and plan a wedding together. pairing: jungkook x female reader word count (of this preview): 500 genre (of this preview): fluff a/n: welp, here we are. you guys wear me down, i swear. im just kidding, this is only out because i have no patience and am excited for you all to read it. tagging @jeonhoney and also @kitschkylo just because!!!
random line from the fic: “I don’t know, I wouldn’t mind kissing you again.”
Before you tug open the door to the florist, you tell yourself that you’re doing this for Hoseok, for his wedding, and for the happiness you hope follows him for the rest of his life, the only things that will keep you from bailing out of sheer exasperation with Jungkook and his terrible personality. This is for Hoseok, not Jungkook, and not you. For Hoseok.
Jungkook’s already there when you step inside, and he is entirely prepared for your arrival, judging by his slick bow and the red rose in his hand. He tilts his head down like the greasiest gentleman in the world before holding out the rose in front of you, brown eyes sparkling with mirth.
“Smooth,” you say, unimpressed with his actions.
“Only for you, princess.” Jungkook grins in response. “Take it. I paid for it, so you better take it.”
“I’m touched,” you say, mouth parted in false surprise as you place a hand over your heart. With the other, you take hold of the rose, placing it under your nose to smell it briefly. “No man has ever gotten me a red rose before.”
“I knew I was a special guy in your life,” Jungkook taunts.
“Especially annoying,” you agree, always fond of twisting his words into ones that taste much better in your mouth.
Jungkook beams at the insult, like it boosts his confidence further. His shamelessness never fails to leave you absolutely speechless, unable to form words that perfectly convey your disgust for the man.
It’s so strange, to look at him amongst the budding flowers and soft green stems. He looks so obviously different; the juxtaposition of your appreciation of breathtaking roses and tulips and your honest distaste for anything and everything Jungkook does leaves you feeling uneasy. It’s particularly strange because he somehow makes it work, like even though there is absolutely nothing about him that makes you think of pretty flowers, it’s fitting.
If you were maybe just a little bit more off of your rocker, you’d think he might even look good amongst the pinks, reds, and yellows. Might.
“So, Yoongi and Hoseok said coral, lime green, yellow, and gold,” Jungkook says, reminding himself aloud as you walk up to the desk in the back of the store.
“They were going for honeydew, not lime green, but alright,” you tell him informatively, not wanting the color palette to be totally fucked because Jungkook can’t tell the subtle difference between honeydew and lime green.
“Wow, pardon me, Miss Color Expert,” Jungkook says sarcastically, hands raised in surrender. “Sorry I don’t know the difference between green and green.”
“You’re so fucking insufferable, you know that?” You ask him right before waving down the owner of the shop, a young man who clearly looks like he’s dedicated his life to flowers, from the petals decorating his hair and the apron wrapped around his torso that reads, “flower power!”.
“Hi, how can I help you guys?” He asks chirpily.
“We’re planning a wedding and our planner, Jessica, recommended you?” You say, hoping it will ring a bell. Jessica seems to know everybody that she sends the four of you to.
“Oh, yes, she told me you would be coming in soon,” the man says, nodding in agreement. “I’m Suho.”
He comes out from behind his bright blue desk to give the both of you handshakes, greeting you warmly as he tells you all about this little flower boutique he’s always dreamed of owning. You and Jungkook both listen closely, admiring this dedication to his life’s work. It’s heartwarming.
“So, what colors are you looking for?” Suho asks as he begins to take you around the flower shop, taking the liberty of plucking a couple of flowers from the baskets and handing them to Jungkook, who so graciously passes them off to you. Every time another flower comes your way, you crinkle up your nose in disgust, unimpressed by his actions to woo you.
“Coral, pale yellow, gold, and lime green,” Jungkook says before earning a nudge from you, a single eyebrow of yours raised in disapproval. “Uh, honeydew, actually. That’s the color.”
Suho looks at the both of you innocently, eyes wide, and he smiles. He nods to himself, muttering nonsense under his breath as he comes up with the perfect flowers and arrangements in his mind. Meanwhile, you and Jungkook are back to silently bickering, with you unable to figure out what to do with all of these flowers in your hands. You don’t really get flowers much, so it’s a foreign feeling. Jungkook decides that he’s had enough of  your fumbling around, taking the light pink daisy in your hand, breaking off a large part of the stem, and placing it above your ear, in your hair.
You’re left speechless yet again, your mind preventing you from comprehending what just happened.
“There,” Jungkook says proudly, “now you actually look kind of attractive for once.”
You frown. “Thanks,” you deadpan.
talk to me, i guess?
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sopewriters · 7 years
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First and Last | 01
Pairing: Jung Hoseok | J-Hope X Reader
Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst; Business!AU
Word Count: 7.3K
Warning(s): Min Yoongi; public sex, thigh-fucking, exhibitionism, slight praise kink, clothed sex, dirty talk, slight degradation
Note: This is the first time in a long time that I’ve written a fic, especially one that passes 3k haha. There should be a second (and maybe third) part, to conclude, so look out for that, I guess. I hope you enjoy reading this tho :)
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Even with the light filtering through your window, your apartment looks bleak. Shades of grey coloring every inch of your space, crowding you in when you look for even a sliver of color. Perhaps it’s symbolic of your mood, your worst fears come to life. Perhaps, it’s a sign. A sign that you need to move on, look for a new palette to color your life.
You clutch your blankets closer to yourself, unwilling to part with perhaps the only thing that’s keeping you grounded. Eyes squeezed shut, you inhale deeply, hearing nothing but the sound of your steadily thumping heart. A sign that you’re alive, even after everything that’s happened.
You still remember the day that changed it all. The day that led you down this path…
“Y/N,” Your boss sits behind his desk, mouth in a firm line, “I hope you understand that this is the chance of a lifetime. Other reporters would be falling over themselves for this, but I’m entrusting you with it.”
“I understand, sir.” You nod nervously, forcing yourself not to fidget on the spot, “I’ll try my best.”
“’Trying’ isn’t going to cut it, this time.” He interrupts, dark eyes boring into yours, “You cannot mess this up, understood?”
Your boss looks terrifying at that moment, stern face highlighted in the lavender lighting of his room. You nod once again, before quickly turning tail and leaving the room. You’ve noticed, from experience, that it’s best never to cross the man, or his judgment; not unless you plan on losing your job.
By the time you get back to your desk, you see your friend’s anxious eyes peering at you from the top of the separation of your cubicles. You roll your eyes, knowing that he thinks you’ve been screwed over which, in a way, you have been.
“Well?” He asks you finally, as you nonchalantly work in silence, “What’d he say?”
One brief glance at his wide, worried eyes changes your mind, and you sigh tiredly, before giving him a tight smile.
“Don’t worry, Jimin.” You say reassuringly—or, at least, you hope you do—but Jimin’s expression doesn’t falter in the slightest, “I just got a new project to work on.”
“Really?” He perks up rather adorably, in a way that most of your co-workers would call ‘endearing’, and slouches in obvious relief, “So, what is it then?”
You steel yourself, taking in a deep breath.
“I need to get into the Midsummer Gala. Undercover.”
There’s a brief silence, between the two of you, that makes your skin prickle uncomfortably. Two beats later, you hear a loud, agitated cackle: Jimin, with his hands running through his fire-truck red hair.
“You’re kidding, right?!” He asks you hysterically, panic-stricken smile frozen firmly on his face slowly melting into a desperate, teary look, “Tell me you’re kidding. Please.”
“I wish.” You smile sadly at him, trying to keep your own panicked thoughts away, “I always used to joke around about being a journalist undercover, but now that it’s actually happening…”
You look down at your hands, wringing them anxiously, “It’s terrifying.”
Jimin continues to look at you with his sad brown eyes; almost like he’s already seeing you on your death bed.
“Can you cut the staring, though?” You finally snap at him, before flushing guiltily at his hurt expression, “It’s just… I don’t feel great about this, and your sad eyes are making it worse.”
He cracks a small smile at that, raising an eyebrow, “Sad eyes?”
“Sad EyesTM,” You say, grinning back, though the words don’t alleviate the weight in your chest, “Actually.”
“Okay, okay, so let me get this straight.” Jimin paces in front of you, as you’re perched on your bed, back at your apartment. The sun is setting, though it still manages to cast a pretty glow on his soft features.
“Go ahead.” You interrupt his self-monologue lazily, stretching, though every part of you is tense.
He glares at you for a brief moment, before his eyes soften, and he exhales heavily.
“You basically need to get into the Midsummer Gala: only the biggest and, not to mention, most well-protected celebrity event in the country?”
“Yep.”
“Add to that the fact that you aren’t receiving any external assistance; the Boss said no?”
“Mm-hm.”
“So, basically,” He concludes then, flopping onto the bed with you, “You’re totally fucked. Do you even have a dress for the thing? You know it’s only next week, and you’re gonna need a pretty expensive dress.”
“Oh shit.” You breath out in horror, sitting up straight, “I totally forgot!”
“Oh, so now she panics.” Jimin mutters to himself, before sitting up with you, “Did the Boss say why you’re going in?”
“Oh, he wants me to get an interview or something with the CEO of Jung & Co.” You release, “Or, at the very least, a report of the general happenings. Celebrity gossip. You know the deal.”
“I thought you wanted to be an editorial writer, not a…” Jimin’s mouth scrunches as he bites out, “A gossip columnist.”
“What can I do?” You complain somberly, flopping back onto the bed, “I’ve got to work my way up, Jimin.”
“Yeah, I’m much happier in the Music section.” Jimin counters, “I’ll look around for someone to help you. I don’t care what our boss says: this would be a suicide mission otherwise.”
“Thank you.” You whisper gratefully, before throwing your arm around your friend’s warm body, “Thank you so, so much.”
“You owe me.” He grumbles, but you can hear the smile in his voice even so.
It turns out that Jimin manages to find you someone who can get you in.
“You realize,” You say slowly, after he tells you the news giddily, “That all this time…you could have gotten in if you wanted to?”
“And do what?” Jimin scoffs, nose upturned haughtily, “I’m already living a lavish life.”
The two of you stare at each other for a moment, and start guffawing helplessly, to the point that tears spring into your eyes. It’s not even really that funny; it’s just that…it’s been so long since you’ve been able to relax even the slightest bit.
“Oh man,” You wipe your eyes quickly, still giggling, “Don’t pull that on me ever again, Park Jimin.”
“Pull what?” He looks at you innocently, making you cuff him at his neck, “OW! Okay, okay, I get it!”
“That’s what I thought.” You huff, before there’s a lull in conversation, “The party is on Friday night, and today’s…”
“Tuesday.” Jimin supplies helpfully, “Meaning you’ve got roughly two-and-a-half days to find the right dress and everything.”
“I think you mean ‘to get money for it’.” You groan, “Shouldn’t the company be paying for this?”
“I think he just wants to fire you.” Jimin says solemnly, and you toss a pillow at him for his efforts, “What, it’s true!”
“Shut up, you aren’t helping.” Rolling your eyes, you stand up and crack your fingers, “I need to start earning some money on the side for this.”
“And,” You continue, startling Jimin when your hands land heavily on his shoulders, “If I don’t get a pay raise when all this is over, I’m going to fuck some bitches up.”
The moment is entirely ruined, of course, when Jimin cracks up.
Your boss, luckily, grants you leave for the next few days, much to your relief. It means you can take on a couple of extra jobs on to buy a suitable dress. With the way things are going, the money you currently have in your account—all from your actual job—is barely enough to buy an acceptable dress. And, if you don’t fit in with the crowd, you’re basically busted from the first step.
Plus, you’ll lose your job, so there’s that.
You work hard, day and night, grinding your weary bones to their limit. You’re honestly done, and a part of you tells you not to do this, to look for another job if need be, but the company you’re at is prestigious, even if the Boss is a slave driver. You have your sights set on this rich, midnight blue gown you saw in a store near your workplace. It’s actually high-end, which is why you need to earn so much. And, gosh, is it hard.
But all your hard work pays off, of course it does. You finally earn enough to safely get that dress, and the elation bubbling in your chest as you leave the store, wallet decidedly empty but arms full, makes you feel happy. Jubilant. Exuberant.
“I did it, Jimin!” You crow excitedly into the phone, arm secure around the package containing your dress, “I…I can’t believe it myself, but I did it!”
“Seriously?” Jimin sounds nearly as excited as you—and why wouldn’t he be? —as he undoubtedly jumps around in happiness, “Everything paid off in the end, didn’t it Y/N?”
“Yeah, it did.” You stand under the store roof’s shade as you smile softly, “You were right, Jimin.”
“Of course, I was.” There’s a pause, before he speaks again, “You know what, we need to celebrate. I’ll come over to your place around 8 and we can—”
“Binge on TV shows?” You cut in eagerly, “Or, oh! Movie marathon!”
“…Yeah, that’s fine.” He sounds amused, “Talk to you later then. Bye.”
There’s still a couple of hours before Jimin comes over, so you decide to stall going home for a bit. Cracking a wide yawn, you aimlessly amble down the street, package tucked securely under your arm again, until you reach your favorite café.
You don’t get to go there as often, now, but you used to be a regular customer. Their caramel macchiato was to die for, and you’re sure it still must be as amazing. And, while you could go to regular coffee joints, you’ll always hold this one close to your heart.
The doors open with a gentle tinkle at your push, and you feel gratified that there isn’t much of a rush today. The café looks just as you remembered, you muse, as you walk. It’s airy and spacious, with lots of windows filtering in the sunlight in order to cast the room in a pleasant glow. There are some new additions, of course; a couple of pictures hung up on the wall, here and there. An odd vase of flowers placed on a table.
Since you’re busy seeing all of this you, obviously, have walk smack into someone. The world spins dizzyingly, as your butt makes a hard contact with the ground, pain spiking up your spine at the impact. Which would be fine, you know, if whoever you crashed into didn’t have coffee. Which is boiling hot, and currently splashed all over your package.
“No!” You cry in dismay, still on the ground. Fumbling fingers hastily tear open the wrapping, and, much to your horror, find that the coffee has soaked through. In essence, there’s a huge, brown spot decorating your beautiful, expensive dress.
“YOU!” You cry, attracting the stare of the few customers standing around; the guy in question, who was trying to leave, suddenly freezes up, and turns around with narrowed eyes, “Look what you did!”
The man is wearing an expensive-looking suit—probably worth your entire paycheck—and has charcoal hair to contrast his white pallor. His dark eyes scream of authority, and judgment: two things you are normally deathly afraid of. But, right now, you feel as if your life has been ripped away from you. By him.
“Excuse me?” He inquires in polite disinterest, though his eyes flash in distaste at the sight of you on the ground, “What did I do? You should have watched where you were going.”
“Watched where—” You laugh hysterically, cutting yourself off, “Are you for real?! This dress is worth more than my normal paycheck and you just ruined it!”
“Just get it dry cleaned, for Christ’s sake.” The man mutters, turning around again, but something overcomes you, and you grasp onto his sleeve with all your strength as you get up.
“I don’t have the time to do that!” You press your lips into a thin line, “I need it by tomorrow!”
Today is Thursday. Tomorrow is Friday: Gala day. And the dry-cleaners would only be able to get it to you by Monday. You are so screwed.
What you do next is something you aren’t proud of (but Jimin is, when you tell him about it). You burst into tears.
The man is clearly taken aback by this, eyes widening in poorly concealed shock. He can hear the murmur of the other customers too, all about the poor girl, she doesn’t deserve this. Hence why he decides to take care of it before it can become a bigger mess.
“Jesus Christ, fine.” He grits out, taking out an expensive looking phone, and tapping away at it, before holding it to his ear.
You watch him, still sniffling, as you struggle to wipe the tears from your eyes and hold your ruined dress at the same time.
“Yeah, I need you to do something for me.” You hear the man mutter into the phone, “I need you to buy a dress…no, I don’t have a fucking girlfriend…measurements?”
He stares at you pensively, making you squirm uncomfortably, before he looks back.
“I’ll send you a picture, yeah.” He finishes, “Thanks, Hobi.”
He looks at his phone for a brief second, before meeting your confused eyes.
“I need to take a picture of you for the measurements. And I’ll need your address as well.”
“Measurements?” You ask in alarm, “Address?”
“Yes, for your new dress.” He rolls his eyes, “I can’t deal with a crying woman, right now.”
“New…dress?” You stutter to yourself, and only react when the man is putting his phone down, picture already taken, “Hey!”
“Relax.” He rolls his eyes, “Address?”
“How am I supposed to trust you?” Your heart thumps in fear, “What if you’re some kind of creep?”
He looks like he’s seriously pondering that, before he reaches his hand into his suit pocket and pulling something out: a business card.
It’s got some fancy sort of embroidery, and you look at it:
  Jung & Co.
Min Yoongi
Director of Finances
Phone Number: +82-9-873-XXXX
Jung & Co…? It sounds familiar, and your eyes grow wide when you realize that this is the company that you’re supposed to interview tomorrow. Min Yoongi doesn’t seem to care as you gawk uselessly at the card, and only raises an eyebrow at you.
“Are you going to stand there all day?”
“Uh, right.” You clear your throat nervously, and recite your address, which he taps into his sleek phone with quick fingers.
“You’ll get it by tomorrow morning, at the latest.” He tells you, continuing his way out.
You don’t get to say anything in response, only left staring at the formidable man’s back with a coffee-stained dress in hand, until he disappears.
“You met Min Yoongi?!” Jimin shrieks in excitement when you tell him about everything, that night, “The Min Yoongi?”
“Yeah, he’s a director in Jung & Co.” You say sadly, staring at Kat Dennings’ frozen face on TV, “I hope he doesn’t turn up tomorrow.”
“Why wouldn’t he turn up?!” Jimin’s eyes grow wide with shock, “Y/N, he’s CEO Jung’s oldest son!”
“…What?” You question blankly, unable to process those words.
“I can’t believe this.” Jimin mutters to himself, before raising his voice, “Y/N, the CEO has three sons: Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok and Jung Jungkook.”
“Why do they have different surnames?” Your face twists in confusion, and he sighs.
“He had two wives. Jungkook and Yoongi have the same mother, but Yoongi chose to take on his mother’s maiden name.”
“Yikes.” You scrunch your nose in distaste, “I should…probably research more about the company, before tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” He looks at you, eyes piercing, “You should. The marathon can wait.”
“Yeah.”
Your conviction lasts for all of two seconds, before you flop back.
“What the hell, just press play!”
“I can do this.” You chant to yourself, as you stare at the large, sprawling mansion in front of you, “Damn it, I should have done my research.”
Then, your mind flashes back to last night, and you giggle lightly to yourself. Never mind, you don’t regret it.
You’re currently standing at the entrance to the party venue, having gotten through security with some help from Jimin’s godsend (“Kim Taehyung, at your service!”). You’re draped in a beautiful purple dress that shimmers wonderfully in the light, which undoubtedly costs more than your midnight dress did.
You remember nearly choking on your spit when you took the garment out of its package, in the morning. It was…not a very delightful experience, needless to say. But the dress truly is beautiful: it was then, and it is now.
“I could’ve done with a partner, for this thing.” You murmur to yourself, as you walk in through the grandiose entrance. However, there’s no time to complain further, nor is it possible, because your breath is taken away, just one step in.
“Holy shit.” You breathe out, “Holy shit.”
It is the epitome of all things expensive. Of everything you’ve seen in the movies; a wide, arching ceiling, with golden-white chandeliers hanging from them, a bubbling fountain as a centerpiece, decorated with pearls. The party guests, of course, wearing their fancy dresses and suits, with polite chatter mingling in the air.
You feel very out of place, but you are a woman on a mission. You’ve got work to do.
You manage to dodge most of the people standing in groups, polite smile affixed to your face. You’re looking for someone in specific; a Mr. Jung, in fact. As you walk, though, you notice people’s eyes drifting towards you, something akin to grudging respect in their eyes. But, why would they do that?
You have no idea, nor do you wish to find out.
You startle, though, when you feel icy cold fingers circling your wrist, and bite your lip so that you don’t scream; instead, you turn around with a stiff smile, wanting to get it over with so that you could find the CEO of Jung & Co, interview him, and go home.
“Yes…?” You trail off, eyes widening with shock when you see the same man from yesterday: Min Yoongi, “Oh no.”
“You’re not supposed to be here.” He deduces correctly, raising an eyebrow, “It’s interesting that this is what you wanted this dress for.”
“Yeah, well.” You flush uncomfortably under his gaze, and are only really saved when someone else enters your conversation.
“Hyung!” They call softly, and your eyes drift to them, taking in a lean man with soft brown hair and gorgeous, bronze skin in pure breathlessness, “Father’s looking for you.”
There’s something akin to sadness in his hazel brown eyes, when they mention their dad, and you see a similar sight in Yoongi’s usually expressionless eyes, before even that disappears.
“Right.” He turns his piercing gaze back to you, prompting the other man to look at you as well, “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”
“What?” You stutter in disbelief, “I—you can’t tell me what to do—!”
“Hoseok, stay with her.” Yoongi tells the other man—Hoseok, the second son—before sneering at you menacingly and leaving.
Hoseok rolls his eyes, but smiles softly at you, extending his hand for you to shake.
“I’m Jung Hoseok.” He introduces himself, “Are you Yoongi’s girlfriend?”
You took his hand to shake it but, at the question, drop it immediately, mouth literally hanging open.
“Y-Yoongi’s…girlfriend?!” You splutter in poorly disguised shock, “N-No way! And, uh, I’m Y/N.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.” He shrugs, heart-shaped smile still on his lips, “It’s just that he never talks to anyone, especially not girls.”
“Unfortunate circumstances caused us to meet.” You let out, though that’s all you plan to say. Because, an idea is forming in your head…
Your boss told you that if you can’t get an interview with CEO Jung, to do an article on the party in general. You don’t really feel like doing all of that, but you do have a much better option right now.
“I see.” Hoseok is saying, eyes soft, “Yoongi told me to stay with you, though, so we’ll have to stick together.”
“Wonderful.” You frown, “Do I really need to listen to him?”
“Aw, why so sad?” He looks down at you with a warm gaze that causes you to flush lightly and, when you try for a twitch of the lips to counter it, chuckles, “There you go. You look much more beautiful with a smile.”
You’re sure your face must be beet red by now, but Hoseok thankfully doesn’t comment on it.
“C’mon,” He holds out his hand for you, and he makes a pretty picture—decked out in a royal blue suit, with cheeks flushed and a beatific smile—like that, “Let’s get away from this mess, shall we?”
“Okay.” You beam at him and take the proffered hand—everything is falling into place, “Where to?”
He just flashes you a secretive grin, and tugs you along.
It turns out there’s some sort of secret garden or something in the secluded corner of the mansion—and it is stunning.
“Oh my god.” You gawk at it, before turning to meet Hoseok’s amused gaze, “I know I said I hate walking, but it was worth coming all the way over here!”
“You like it?” He asks you, eyebrow quirked up, and at your happy nod, continues, “Then you won’t mind if I brought this along?”
He raises his fist, which is closed around a bottle of champagne. You stare at it for a bit, a voice in your head screaming at you to not drink on the job, but really, your bored. And besides, this could even help you along.
“Bring it on.” You smirk at him with fake confidence, “I bet I can outdrink you.”
“Oh?” A skeptical smile plays across his lips, “I’d like to see that.”
You aren’t sure how many gulps later…maybe six? Or seven? In any case, Hoseok still looks infuriatingly put together, while you start to lose your shit, vision dimming mockingly.
“I-I don’t want to lose my job!” You hiccup sadly, as Hoseok pats your back reassuringly, “I’m already broke, and this just would make it so much worse!”
“How’d you get in here, if you’re so broke, then?” He asks in curiosity, but you’ve got your wits about you enough to dodge that question.
“D-Doesn’t matter!” You say sternly, and he shrugs. There’s only silence, after that, where the two of you are left looking up at the stars.
You grow bored of doing that, though, and turn to eye Hoseok instead, breath catching in your throat. He looks really beautiful like that, face tilted upward, eyes full of the stars. The moonlight catching on his bronze skin makes him look ethereal, and makes you to move closer to him.
“What is i-it?” He turns to face you, only to stutter at the sudden proximity, “W-Wait, Y/N, what’re you—?”
“You look really pretty like this.” You murmur, and the hitch in his breath prompts you to lean forward, eyes fluttering shut.
The soft press of his lips against yours feels perfect. There are no firecrackers, nothing like the books describe…but it’s soft and warm and wonderful. He’s frozen in shock, as your fingers tangle in his hair, and his hands come to push you away, but no, you want the warmth back.
“Y/N, you’re drunk.” The flush on his cheeks makes him look even more irresistible, even as he stutters and looks away, “Y-You don’t know what you’re d-doing.”
You lunge at him, making him gasp in surprise as the he tumbles onto the grass, with you landing perfectly on top of him. You’re lucky your dress isn’t skin-tight or anything, or things would be very different.
“You talk too much.” You giggle lightly, before leaning down and kissing him again, harder and more fervently this time, and ah, there are the fireworks. When Hoseok actually starts to respond, soft lips moving desperately against your own, a thrill runs up your spine. Maybe it’s the alcohol that’s lowered your inhibitions, but you want more, and your unhesitant of showing it.
“Y/N!” He gasps sharply, when you roll your hips against his; his hands scrabble to find purchase at your waist, “You’ll regret this tomorrow, stop!”
“Why don’t you make me?” You question, core steadily dampening, “Jung Hoseok.”
“I…I…” He looks conflicted, before a nip to his exposed throat, and a well-timed roll of your hips, makes his eyes roll back, “Oh fuck!”
“I’d like that.” You purr, meeting his lips with yours again, “Aren’t you interested?”
He freezes, before slumping.
“Alright, fine.” He bites out, and the world spins as he flips you over easily, staring down at you with dark, lusty eyes, “But it’s on my terms.”
You nod eagerly, willing to give anything to just feel more of him. The champagne really must have done a number on you, because you aren’t normally like this…especially not on the job. But right now, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, except for the feel of his skin against yours.
“Good.” He says, and an unexpected warmth flushes through you at the praise, but you don’t dwell on it much longer as he hikes the skirts of your dress up, exposing your legs to the chilly air. You shiver at the cold, but it does nothing to deter you.
You realize that Hoseok is hunched over you, with your dress spread all around you, cheeks equally as pink as yours. You realize that anyone could walk in on this, on him giving you everything. And you just throb at that, giddiness overcoming you at the thrill of that happening.
“What’s this?” Hoseok’s fingers brush against your damp panties, with an amused glint in his eye at your stuttered breath, “I didn’t think you’d be this excited.”
“Damn it, Hoseok.” You groan, pushing down slightly to prompt him to just touch, touch and don’t leave anything behind, “Just do it, please!”
“Do what?” He obligingly pulls your underwear aside, to press gently at your dribbling slit, “This?”
“You know what I mean.” You growl, though his sly innocence makes an unbearable heat pool between your legs, “Please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He smiles at you, “I better treat the princess with care, hm?”
And your mouth opens in a breathy moan when he slides a finger inside you, the slight burn of the stretch making it all the better. He just uses that one finger, though, pumping it steadily in and out of you, but it’s not enough, not even close, and he knows it.
You whine embarrassingly, but he seems to find it pleasurable, because he considerately slips in another finger, scissoring you with a steady hand. Two becomes three, and you nearly sob in relief when he twists them just right, to brush against your g-spot, making stars explode behind your closed eyelids.
“Yes, there!” You struggle to keep your voice down, just in case someone might overhear, and it makes Hoseok move even closer to you, mouth brushing against the lobe of your ear.
“You like this?” His voice shouldn’t ever be this husky, but you can’t focus on anything but the slow, meaningful movements of his fingers, rubbing against that one spot, and his dark, dirty words.
“I bet you’d like it if someone walked in on us.” He whispers to you, hot breath hitting the sensitive skin of your neck in spurts, “You’d like that too, right? You’d like for them to see me fucking you, owning your dirty little cunt.”
You can’t breathe, heart hammering wildly against your chest as he speaks to you in the same hushed tone, fingers doing their part inside you. It’s like you can’t bring yourself to move, just lie there and let him take and take and take. And, the worst part?
You love it.
“You want my cock, baby?” He asks you, smirking, and gods, he should be illegal, “Want me to open you right up?”
“Or would you be okay with anyone, hm?” He pulls back his fingers, so that they’re barely inside you, “Look at your little hole, clenching around my fingers like that. You’re desperate, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” You moan, eyes wide and frantic as you try to get your bearings right, “Let me cum, please.”
“I didn’t even need to ask.” His red lips curl up, and his dark eyes bore into yours, “You really are a slut.”
“N-No—” You try to defend yourself, shuddering through your arousal, but Hoseok cuts you off.
“How about a little test?” He challenges you, fingers unmoving, “If you want to cum so badly, then why don’t you fuck yourself on my fingers like a good little doll? Or, if you’d prefer not to, I could just leave you here.”
He moves his lips closer to yours, “You can try to find your own release, staying. Right. Here. Someone might even find you, help you out to get their dicks wet. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
At the frantic shake of your head, he laughs, “then why don’t you get to it, before I lose my patience?”
It’s humiliating, but your juices continue to leak out of you, as you grind against his fingers helplessly. No matter how you angle your hips, they don’t strike the right spot, and it’s so frustrating.
“Why’re you crying?” He asks you, eyes showing only the barest hint of alarm, and you shake your head.
“I w-want to cum.” You choke out in desperation, “But I c-can’t!”
“C’mere.” He pulls his fingers out, before tugging you up and seating you comfortably on his lap. He hikes the skirts of your dress up, so that your dripping core is completely exposed to anyone who might be coming by, and pushes the digits back in.
“Is this better?” He asks you, but chuckles when your walls clench around him, “Figures.”
He makes quick work of you then, pumping his fingers in and out of you steadily. You can feel his bulge pressing against the cleft of your ass, and can’t help but grind against it, making him stiffen imperceptibly. It feels so good, lying there and letting him do what he wants, just putty in his skilled hands. At this point, you don’t care if anyone really comes and sees, because you’re entirely focused on chasing the pain-pleasure-pain-pleasure that he promises.
“You’re close, right?” He groans into your ear, “I can feel your pussy squeezing around me, so you must be. And you’re getting my fingers all dirty, you little slut.”
“S-Sorry.” You can’t help but squeeze out, “Oh G-od!”
“That’s it,” He coaxes you closer to your climax, pushing you to the brink, “Come for me, baby.”
And it’s like a switch turns on, at the sound of his voice, and with one final gasp, your vision swims white, legs trembling erratically as your core squeezes lustily around his fingers. You’re lost, swimming in everything that’s him, and you don’t ever want to leave.
Your mouth parts instinctively for his fingers, and you tiredly suck around them like he suggests, knowing that your cleaning your own juices off the slender digits.
“Good girl.” He praises you headily, before your back is on the grass, “I think it’s only fair for me to get my share too, right?”
A faint sense of alarm is triggered in your brain, and Hoseok seems to know what you’re thinking, because he pushes you back, with a reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry, I won’t fuck you.” He nips at your throat, “We can save that for another time, babe. Instead…”
You hear the sound of a zipper and take the chance, looking at the stars above instead of what Hoseok is doing. The grass isn’t prickly, and the weather is pleasant; it’s making you grow increasingly sleepier.
The drag of Hoseok’s fingers across your sensitive clit has you mewling, and he pauses, before pressing against it firmly. Your legs jerk, and you instinctively whimper at the overstimulation.
“Relax, babe.” He says, collecting more of your juices on his fingers, “Just let me take care of you.”
So, you stay quiet, something in you telling you that you can trust him. Call it a reporter’s instinct, but Hoseok just screams of trustworthiness.
Your eyes widen, though, when you see his slather his cock with it, mouth going dry at the size. You know he said he won’t fuck you, but…
He slides his cock close to your pussy, grazing against it, but never quite entering you.
“Close your thighs.” He instructs you, warm hands pushing your legs together, so that your thighs enclose his throbbing length, “That’s a good girl.”
You grow flustered at the praise, and your arousal spikes again, dribbling more onto his cock, much to his delight.
“You like that?” His fingers card through your hair, as he begins to rut against your thighs, “L-Like me praising you? Telling you what a good little bitch you are for me?”
“Y-Yes!” You cry, as his member rubs against your swollen clit, “Oh, please!”
“That’s it.” He pins you down, fucking into your thighs with renewed vigor, “Next time, I’ll fuck you properly. You’ll be begging for more, by the end of it, even when everything in you screams for it to stop.”
“You’ll grow addicted to my cock, won’t you?” He sucks harshly into your collar bone, “My good little slut.”
“Yes, oh God!” This is a situation spiraling out of control, but you can’t find it in you to try and stop—the pleasure, it’s addicting, and it feels so, so right, “Hoseok—!”
“I’ve got you.”
Only the moon is a witness to your passion that night, when the two of you curl around each other, and Hoseok sprays the inside of your thighs with white. It drips onto the grass, and you’re worried it might have gotten on your dress, but the brunette takes out a handkerchief to wipe you off gently.
It feels nice, the soothing rub of his cloth-covered fingers against your skin, and you find yourself drifting off in almost no time at all…
You wake up to a soft warmth, and sigh, snuggling into it. Your eyelids feel heavy, crusted, so you don’t bother opening them, instead trying to get back to sleep. Unfortunately, that’s when you realize that nothing in your bed has ever been this soft, and your eyes snap open.
Immediately recoiling at the sudden intensity of the light, you groan and try to get off the bed: a bad idea when your vision is so limited. You end up tripping on your gown—you forgot you were even wearing it—but manage to find purchase with a wall. You stand there, for a few seconds, until your sight finally adjusts.
Your jaw drops, because this most certainly is not your room.
The room is decorated in shades of beige and brown—warm colors—with the giant, king-sized bed clearly serving as the centerpiece. There’s a desk in the corner, your phone and purse placed on it, with an ornately carved chair to match, and there are two doors adjacent to each other.
Of course, none of this really matters to you when the door creaks open and nearly gives you a heart attack. You stare at it with wide eyes, as a brunette man walks in, eyes soft and cheeks…pink?
“W-What’s going on?” You ask defensively, instinctively huddling against the wall, “Why am I here?”
He looks at you with surprise coating his features.
“Don’t you remember?” He asks, hazel eyes wide with surprise, “I’m Hoseok.”
“Hoseok…?” You mutter to yourself, and everything hits you at once, making you flush from your head to your toe, “Oh no.”
“Oh, so you do remember.” Hoseok chuckles awkwardly, eyes cast on the floor, “I, um, was going to ask if you wanted me to get you some clothes or something, from one of the maids…”
“Uh,” You look down at your dress, before murmuring quietly, “Yeah, that’d be nice, thank you.”
“Alright.” He pauses hesitantly, and you watch him with wide eyes, “Could we…talk about this when you’re done?”
“Yeah, sure.” You say, though it lacks enthusiasm. He seems to agree, but nods at you before quickly walking out.
You flop on the bed, taking your head in your hands. You cannot believe this is happening. This is not happening.
“Why am I such an idiot?” You groan quietly into the silence, “Why did I drink?”
You can’t hold your liquor too well, and the fact that it was champagne yesterday…well, it got you drunk faster than ever before. You made a bad decision yesterday, and you know it.
“And what am I supposed to write for the article?” You whine quietly to yourself, before startling and nearly falling off the bed when the door swings open.
A middle-aged woman with auburn hair walks in, entirely dressed in white. She’s carrying some things in her hands—namely, clothes, much to your relief.
“Here you go, Miss.” She sets the garments on the bed gently, before turning to you, “The Young Master wanted me to inform you that the bathroom is fully stocked with any essentials you might need.”
“He would also like for you to use this,” She hands over a small looking remote, with a single red button, “To call for him once you’re finished.”
“Oh, thank you.” You blush, though you’re not quite sure why. You curse yourself for showing this kind of weakness.
She gives you a polite smile, before stepping out the room, door shutting as she goes. You stare at the door for a couple of seconds, before quickly locking it and rushing to grab your phone on the table. You need to call Jimin.
Picking up your phone, you hurriedly press the home button, only to blanche when the screen doesn’t light up. A couple of tries later, your fears are confirmed.
Your phone’s dead. Wonderful.
Seeing no other choice, you decide to go use the bathroom, and get dressed as quickly as you can. The faster you do that, the faster you can get home, simple as.
You stop short when you actually see the bathroom.
“This is beautiful.” You whisper reverently, “Beautiful.”
 Your bath, needless to say, takes longer than planned.
“So.” Hoseok takes a seat from across you, looking literally everywhere but at you, “We need to talk, I guess.”
“Uh, yeah.” You muttered, blush taking over your cheeks as your mind flashes back to the previous night, “But, um, first: are we at your place?”
“Kind of?” He gives a half-nod, so you take it at face value, “I mean, you sort of passed out last night, so—”
“Wait, did you carry me all the way to your house?” You interrupt, eyes wide, “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry—”
“No, no!” He rushes to say, smiling slightly, “It was just a couple of floors, and most of the guests were gone by then, so it wasn’t a big deal.”
“Oh.” You say, pondering in silence, before your mind finally connects the dots, “Wait, the mansion is yours?!”
“Well, it’s not exactly mine, it’s more my Father’s…” He grimaces, but at your annoyed expression, hurriedly acquiesces, “Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that?”
“Oh my gosh.” You murmur faintly, gripping the arm of your chair for support, “Oh my gosh.”
“It’s not that big a deal.” He looks confused and you shake your head.
“You basically fucked me, and carried me up here after I passed out and gave me a bunch of luxuries I can only ever dream of.”
You usually hate your lack of filter sometimes, especially considering your occupation, but not this time; not when Hoseok literally turns beet red and chokes on his own spit.
“I…You didn’t—!” He stutters, “I didn’t actually do it, we just, kind of…”
He makes vague motions with his hands, and you need to bite your lip to hold back your laughter.
“Jung Hoseok, embarrassed of this?” You smirk at him, even as he stares at the ground guiltily, “After all that filth you said yesterday—”
“Oh god, you remember?” He groans, head dropping into his hands, but you go on coolly.
“After all that filth you said yesterday, you’re embarrassed to say we almost had sex?” You finally laugh, “Jung Hoseok: shy on the streets, sly in the sheets.”
“Oh my god.” He groans, even though a smile pulls at his lips, and that’s when the door slams open, startling the two of you to near death.
“We need to talk.” Min Yoongi stands in the doorway, eyes cold and dead.
“Why is that a common theme here?” You mutter, stomach sinking, even as Hoseok waves him in.
The discussion with Yoongi goes as well as expected. Which is to say: not at all.
“So, care to explain to me why you were at the party yesterday?”
Yoongi sits across from you, next to Hoseok, with his arms crossed. Both of you ignore Hoseok’s confused glances, only looking at each other.
“I didn’t want to come, I had no choice.” You say petulantly, though a part of you quakes in fear.
“Even so, you’re clearly not on the guest list.” Yoongi muses, tapping a finger against his armrest, “And I’ve never heard of you, so that leaves…”
“Are you from the press?” Hoseok blurts out, and you struggle to meet his eyes, which are swirling with confusion…and hurt, “You came undercover?”
“Yeah.” You admit, knowing there’s no escape, and Yoongi’s stare grows sharper, “I did. I had no choice, my boss would’ve fired me otherwise—!”
“That’s none of our problem.” Yoongi interrupts, anger flashing in his dark eyes, “In fact, I think we should—”
“Wait, hyung!” Hoseok interrupts, making the raven-haired man freeze in surprise, obviously not used to being cut through, “What did you need to do for your boss?”
His face still screams of pain and sadness, and you swallow the guilty sob that threatens to escape you as you whisper:
“He wanted me to get an interview from Jung & Co.”
Hoseok’s eyes shimmer slightly, then, and you can’t help the tears that spring into your own eyes as you hurry to explain, “He also said that if it isn’t possible, he’d be okay with a general write-up, and that’s what I was going to do, I swear—!”
“Get out.” It’s Yoongi who speaks, fists tightening, and Hoseok refuses to meet your eyes as your throat turns dry in anxiety, “Get the fuck out.”
Almost on cue, armed men in suits walk into the room, and you struggle lightly as they begin to pull you away.
“Hoseok, I’m sorry!” You yell desperately, through your tears, even as he looks away, hurt still visible on his soft features, “Hoseok, please!”
The last you see of him, is his head burrowed into Yoongi’s stiff embrace.
Written By: Midnight
Next Part: 02
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hoeseok · 7 years
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The Journey to Freedom | 01
♡ Happy Ever After // BTS Disney AU Collab ♡
Word Count: 3.1k
Pairing: [ Jungkook | Flynn Rider ] x Reader
Genre: Disney AU, fluff
Warnings: None
Moodboard
Prologue | Jimin (Pt. 1) | Jungkook | Jin | Yoongi | Taehyung | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin (The Choice: Pt. 2) | Epilogue
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(banner creds to @aichan11)
Looking around the office room puzzled, you feel as if a train hit you because of a massive headache throbbing at your temples. You glance down at your work clothes back on your body; the mermaid tail is not a part of you anymore. The sound of the waves crashing are replaced by the sounds of the air conditioner humming at a constant rate. Jimin’s lips, sweet and soft looking, resting millimeters from your own lips have been taken away from you abruptly, and you are left in dismay. The travel through different dimensions takes a toll on your body; you are not exactly like your younger self with crazy amounts of energy to keep up with this type of traveling because you are much older now and more mature. Running your hand through your hair to ruffle your tangled, slightly damp hair, you notice the deafening silence in the office. “It’s too quiet in here. Where is Bang Sihyuk?” You think it’s strange that Bang Sihyuk is not even around because you expect him to be waiting for you since he is the one who sent you on the adventure with Jimin.
Walking back over to your desk, you notice that your laptop has been repaired and no longer displays a “fatal system error” message on a blue screen. The numerous coffee stains on the pile of your work has disappeared, and the papers look as good as new and feel just as crisp as they did when you first bought the paper. Turning around to take a seat in your chair, you bend your legs to sit down, but out of nowhere Bang Sihyuk pops back in and scares the living daylights out of you. You flinch at his surprise return, and the chair rolls out from under you, causing you to create a loud crash as you try to spare yourself from embarrassment by using your arms to catch yourself, but nothing prevents gravity from pulling you down. You hit the floor with a loud thud, and you gasp so hard that you start choking on thin air. Feeling self-conscious, your body temperature increases, and your cheeks turn a nice shade of rosy pink. While getting up onto your feet, you avoid eye contact with him for as long as possible.
“Oh my God, Bang Sihyuk! Don’t scare me like that! If I wasn’t falling, I would have grabbed something to hit you with before I fell. You should be glad I didn’t do that,” you exclaim, meeting your gaze with his. You lift your arms out to gesture as you speak and then let them fall back down to your side.
“Oh, I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t mean to scare you. Sometimes I forget that I just can’t pop back in like that,” Bang Sihyuk explains, an apologetic look on his face. “I’m here to remind you that your next adventure awaits through that door over there, so you may go ahead and enter,” he mentions, pointing his head towards the direction of the door.
You nod your head slowly to show that you understand his words, but your feet stay glued to the floor. You don’t want to go to another parallel universe again because there’s only so much your body can handle, but you have no other choice. All you want to do is go home for the night and get some rest, but it doesn’t look like you will sleep any time soon. Bang Sihyuk crosses his arms over his chest, implying that you need to pick up the pace and make your way over to the door where your next prince awaits for you. Once you walk to the door, he joins you at the entrance and puts his hand on the doorknob, a big grin resting on his face. “It seems like he’s more eager about my upcoming adventure than I am,” you think to yourself, while forcing a smile to Bang Sihyuk.
“Do you have any questions to ask before you go?” he inquires, interrupting your racing thoughts of who the prince will be.
“No, I don’t think so,” you reply, shaking your head.
“Okay, good. Now go have fun!” he yells out, swinging the door wide open and pushing you through the threshold into the parallel universe once more.
* * * * *
You don’t completely understand how you arrive here because one second you are with Bang Sihyuk and the next, you are isolated in captivity. Your ordinary work clothes have transformed into an elegant, long purple dress that hits right above your ankles. You stand in front of a full length mirror to examine the new dress on your body; your hands smooth over the creases on the skirt of your dress. The three quarter sleeves are puffy around the shoulders to add dimension but then fit exquisitely on your lean arms. The corset dress hugs at your figure, drawing emphasis towards the curves of your waist and creating a longer torso. The most different thing you notice about yourself is that you now have extremely long hair that has magical powers for healing.
Out of sheer curiosity, you walk around the room trying to find an exit somewhere, but there isn’t one anywhere to be found except for an entrance that leads to a balcony. Opening the doors, you step outside and immediately feel the warm air hit your body. Your bare feet adjust to the warmth of the balcony floor, and the pupils in your eyes shrink in attempt to see better in the sunlight. Peeking over the balcony ledge, you see that the balcony is too high up to attempt an escape without getting injured badly. “If my bedroom is so high up, then how did I get here?” you question while placing your hands on the ledge. Looking out into the distance, you see nothing but trees surrounding the tower on one side and a cave with a waterfall on the opposite side. “This place is definitely hidden. I doubt anyone can find me trapped in here, and I have no clue where I am,” you groan out, the slightest bit of hope you have left fading.
* * * * *
At the crack of dawn, the sun begins to slowly come up, coloring the sky with varying shades of orange, red, and yellow; all colors blending together into one like the paint on an artist’s palette. Not too long after the sun rises, the tossing and turning cause you to awaken from your slumber in a cold sweat from a reoccurring nightmare. Every night when you sleep, you dream of being trapped in a locked tower, only to wake up and remember that those nightmares are actually a chilling reality. Struggling to roll out of the cocoon of blankets you have tangled yourself in during the night, you finally rise from your bed. Walking towards the entrance, you open the doors and stare out into the distance at the clear blue sky and the freshly damp grass still wet from the morning dew.
As the day slowly drags on, you keep busy by a painting mural of yourself watching the lanterns float into the distance, a dream of yours you wish to see come true. One day you will discover the source of those lanterns no matter what it takes, and that is a fact. If you aren’t painting, then you’re hanging out with your best friend, Pascal, the chameleon. He is a very loyal and trustworthy friend, who has been pushing you to discover the beautiful yet unknown outside world that life has to offer.
“Well, hello Miss,” someone smirks, cocking his head to the side.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!,” you shriek in response to the unfamiliar voice coming from the stranger, ducking down faster than the speed of light while your hands reach for your head. Grabbing for the closest thing near you, you grab a pan and stand up to defend yourself. “Who are you, and how did you get up here? What do you want?” you interrogate, the stern tone in your voice displays no signs of taking this situation lightly. Before he even utters a word, he’s already attempting to kiss you. Puckering his lips and slightly leaning in closer to you, he simply stops inches away from your face. Not wanting to deal with his shameless flirting, you smack him with the pan for attempting to flirt with you and hide him in the closet unconscious when you hear Mother Gothel’s voice nearby.
Mother Gothel comes into your room to bring your meal, and you muster up the courage to ask her of your request before she leaves. The answer will most likely be a “no”, but you have to at least give it a shot and hope for the best.
“Mother, can I leave the tower? I want to experience life outside of this prison I’m stuck in.”
“No, you cannot leave, my dear. The outside world is far too dangerous for you because it will destroy the smallest ray of sunshine it can find,” she strictly replies.
“But- but,” you stutter nervously.
“No, y/n! My decision is final; under my roof, you are not leaving this tower ever!” Mother Gothel screams, and you take a few steps away from her.
Too tired to deal with anymore questions, Mother Gothel turns around and walks off. “Wait, Mother!” you cry out, “For my birthday, I want some more of that paint you got me before.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want, darling? It’ll take me three days to get it.” You nod your head yes; your doe eyes warm and inviting, which makes it harder for Mother to say no to you. “Okay, y/n. I’ll get it for you. Are you sure you’ll be fine without me here?”
“Yes, Mother. I can take care of myself. Thank you,” you reply, giving her a big hug before she took off.
Before he regains his consciousness, you drag him out of the closet and fasten him to the chair with your long hair. His eyes flutter, and when they fully open, he panics and squirms around in the chair to make an effort at breaking free. Failing at his attempt, he gives up quickly without trying a second time. Furrowing his brows, he bewilderingly questions, “Why- why am I tied up?”
“My mother informed me about the world outside of this tower and how threatening it can be, and she warned me about people like you,” you explain to him.
“People like me? What do you mean by people like me?”
“Well,” you pause, unsure of how to explain in a way that makes sense. You continue, “I mainly mean people in general as a whole. For my whole life, I have been taught not to trust anyone because they may have malicious intent and would do anything to get what they want.” Staring intensely into his eyes with him staring right back at you, neither one of you flinches. “Anyways, can you tell me who you are?”
“I thought you would have never asked!” he begins, his egotistical attitude makes you roll your eyes so hard. You almost have the nerve to smack him again with the pan, but you refrain from doing so. “You can call me Jungkook, and do you have a name, pretty lady?”
“Oh my goodness, Jungkook. Stop with this cockiness!” you exclaim, as a sigh left your mouth. “My name is y/n. Oh and by the way, while you were out cold, I saw a crown sticking out of your satchel. I hid your bag from you,” you explain.
“Hey, I need that! Give it back!” Jungkook tries to leap forward to get out, but he can't move since he's still tied up. “Wha- what are you going to do with it?” The panic in his voice doesn't go unnoticed.
“I’ll give it back to you un-”
“Yes! Thank you!” Jungkook interrupts.
“Hold up, I wasn't finished with what I was saying. I'll give it back under one condition. You have to take me to see the lanterns.”
“What? Why? There's no way I'm doing that.”
“Fine then. The crown and satchel stay with me.” You cross your arms over your chest and look over into the direction of the balcony, slightly annoyed that he won't agree to your compromise.
“Y/n.” You turn to look at him, and when you meet his gaze, he continues, “Fine, I will take you to see the lanterns.”
As soon as you hear him mention the festival, your eyes light up, and you cry out tears of joy because you can't believe his answer.
The trust between you two slowly but surely commences to form the more you chat with him, and you release him from being tied up. Jungkook stands up slowly, stretching his legs out in the process. He proceeds to straighten his vest and then asks, “Are you ready?”
“Yeah, never been more ready.” you say, shuffling away from Jungkook towards the entrance to examine the ground below. After seeing how high up you are, you’re too frightened to leave the tower first, so Jungkook takes the lead and uses his arrows to make his way down the side. “It’s either now or never,” you think to yourself, taking in a deep breath. You casually place your hair in a hook on the balcony, and your hair falls down the side of the tower to the ground. Gripping your hands onto your strong, long hair, you cautiously wrap your body around it while holding on tightly as you steadily lower yourself down until you are inches away from the green grass under your bare feet.
The first steps outside of the tower feel like you're on cloud nine. The coolness of the grass on the bottom of your feet juxtaposed to the sun’s rays beating down is nothing you’ve experienced before, so the feeling is indescribable and mind-blowing. You wish you had all the time in the world to run your hands over every tree or through every patch of flowers, but unfortunately you don’t have that leisure. Skipping merrily through the forest, your smile continues to grow, amazed by what the world has to offer. Even when your mouth hurts so much from grinning, you never stop showing your pearly whites. Jungkook takes a seat under the shade of a tree and watches you have your moment of new excitement and fascination.
“Y/n! If we want to make it to the lanterns on time, we should head that way,” Jungkook explains as he wipes the dirt from his pants and then waves to get your attention. He waits for you to catch up before he hikes deeper into the forest. Not too far off in the distance, faint sounds of a horse trotting are heard progressively getting louder and louder by the second. Hearing the noises of the horse prior to you, Jungkook becomes alarmed, and he grabs your hand as he hurriedly finds a hiding spot on the other side of a fallen tree.
“Jungkook, what’s happening?” you whisper nervously in his ear, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. Jungkook shushes you, his breathing still heavy from running. You’re still confused on what’s happening, but then you see it. Maximus, a white horse, intensely sniffing the ground for something; you could definitely tell he is on a mission to find whatever or whoever he is looking for. Jungkook crouches down even lower with hopes of not being seen, and Maximus walks right past where both of you are hiding. Nevertheless, he picks up on Jungkook’s scent and makes his way back until he stops directly in front of him. Maximus looks prepared to fight Jungkook for stealing the crown, but you intervene before any damage is done. By befriending Maximus and showing him love and compassion, you’re able to get him to lessen his hate for Jungkook.
* * * * *
Eventually reaching the kingdom with time to spare before the lantern festival, you gather people around the community to dance, with Jungkook joining you by your side. The jolly music echoes through the busy streets as people sing along to the sweet melodies and move rhythmically to the beat.
“Y/n, come with me,” Jungkook says with a smile, holding his hand out for you to intertwine with his.
“Where are we going?” you ask, your curiosity getting the best of you.
“It’s a surprise, so you’ll have to find out yourself.”
Jungkook guides you to a small canoe and helps you carefully step in, so you don’t fall into the water before he takes a seat himself. The color of the sky and the water scream navy blue because the sun has disappeared into the depths of the night. There is just enough light from the moon to see Jungkook across from you, leisurely paddling away from the kingdom. As he turned his head to the other side of the canoe, you catch the smile on his face. He is grinning like an idiot who has fallen in love. You can’t help but smile back at him; your heart racing in your chest. Even though his original intent was to steal the crown and live happily ever after with his money, somewhere along the journey to the lantern festival, you have stolen his heart instead.
The king and queen release the first lantern into the night sky, and then the rest follow; unhurriedly one by one at first and then all at once. Dropping your jaw at the breathtaking moment, you’re in awe and left speechless. Your lifelong dream is finally a reality that is worth escaping the captivity you were once held in. It is everything you imagined it being and much more. The soft glow from the lanterns illuminates the dark sky, the blackness is decorated with lights that sparkle like stars. You stretch your arm out to touch the lantern close by, and when you look over your shoulder at Jungkook, he caught two lanterns for you both to release at the same time. After releasing them and watching them float away, Jungkook gently grabs your hand, and you turn your head towards him, searching for his dark brown eyes hidden behind his hair. His gaze finds yours and his hands, slightly rough to the touch, cups both sides of your face. Your breathing is unsteady as he stares deeply into your eyes, yet everything feels right with the world. He leans in closer to your lips with his eyes shut and his soft lips in a small pucker. The butterflies in your stomach flutter rapidly as you anxiously await your first kiss. You close your eyes and lean in closer to his lips, pausing to let him make the first move, but that move never happens. As a matter of fact, when you open your eyes, Jungkook is no longer an inch away from your lips, and you are no longer in a canoe by the kingdom.
Prologue | Jimin (Pt. 1) | Jungkook | Jin | Yoongi | Taehyung | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin (The Choice: Pt. 2) | Epilogue
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yoongisbbydoll · 7 years
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You do you! You can try the blue and if you like it keep it, if not just change back to pink!
Anonymous said: Also I think a blue theme would be pretty!! I really love Yoongi's new hair color too. Your pastel pink theme is really pretty and aesthetic as well though;;
ahh thank you for the feedback!! im going to experiment with some color palettes and different pictures until i find something im happy with, it might not be baby blue but i feel like i need a change as the weather is changing yano :)
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ktaebwi · 7 years
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I'M DYING!!!!! EVERYBODY LOOKS SO GOOD???? I'M LOVIMG JIMINS PINK HAIR?/? THE GRUNGY AESTHETIC???? TAE'S SWEPT BACK HAIR??? BLACK AND BLUE Y O O N G I!!!!!!!! I'M!!!! SO!!!! HYPED!!!!!!!!!!! The floral Popsicles are also really pretty lmao. And the confetti and smiles look so happy. I was digging the solemn vibe of WINGS, but this one is literally 👀👀👀👅👅👅👅
i'm thrilled to see how this would be wings' side story X-((((((((((( everyone looks so good and the color palette's so pretty already even without editing 😍 not to be that kind of fan but jimin's hair is a work of god, it looks fluffy and cool at the same time like pink marshmallow with cayenne pepper taste ;___; and yoongi's hair too omg, with that blue tinted hair he srsly looks like a sea god, like poseidon or sort of ;___; i though choppy bangs look cute on jin already but choppy bangs + beanie!! a holy combination!! kudos to the stylists i now have a new major weakness: jin with choppy bangs in beanie!!ps: i think the popsicles look like soaps haha
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for-yoongi0309 · 2 years
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 © 슈가온더비트
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