steve harrington x reader fanfiction | fratboy!steve | platonic!stobin (i promise) | mentions of cheating (but it's not real cheating) | mean!steve, playboy!steve | sort of friends to enemies to fwb to lovers | slowish burn | angst | hurt ... eventual comfort
words: 212k
summary: When you find out your college roommate/friend robin buckley's boyfriend, steve harrington— who you thought beat all stereotypical frat boy odds— is cheating on her, you find it hard to understand why she still wants to be with him. But there is more than meets the eye. You aren't sure if you want to be roped into it.
Teaser
Rules/Playlist
Chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter six
Chapter seven
Chapter eight
Chapter nine
Chapter ten
Chapter eleven
Chapter twelve
Chapter thirteen
Chapter fourteen
Chapter fifteen
Chapter sixteen
Chapter seventeen
chapter eighteen
epilogue
didn't expect to make a part 2 so soon but seeing how much recognition the first one got, here we are! some of these contain a hearty amount of angst, and oh they're just simply divine :( once again, please make sure to show your love and support to these lovely authors if you enjoyed any of these reads as much as i did!
➺ knife’s edge - by @readyplayerhobi
| jungkook x reader, jimin x reader | 141.8k
mafia au, fluff, angst, smut, violence, series
>> summary: "the jeon clan is family, built on blood and loyalty. it’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the clan, jeon jungkook. you would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?"
this fic absolutely BROKE ME. i was so conflicted all throughout and deadass went through all the 50 stages of grief. the angst was unparalleled. the fluff had me giggling like a madman cuz jk is an absolute sweetheart :( jimin is too :(( y/n is dumb and so is her situation :((( i cherish this fic sm
➺ novocaine - by @kinktae
| jimin x reader |
1990s au, exes au, angst, eventual smut, series
>> summary: "going home was hard – painful even. but falling back in love with jimin, the boy you left behind? downright gut-wrenching."
➺ ghostin him- by @adonis-koo
| namjoon x reader (taehyung x reader) | 26k
angst, angst, as well as angst. comfort too dw, one-shot
>> summary: "life is nothing more than dull colors for you, your world shattered and laying in the shards of what once was rather than focusing on what is. that is until you meet kim namjoon, who is immediately taken by you without realizing you’re a girl with a whole lot of baggage, through tears and many sleepless nights you’re faced with a choice of hanging on with bleeding hands, or accepting what is, and letting go."
ohmygod the writing hello? the amount of soul, depth, and sheer utter beauty in missy's words are beyond me. had me sobbing every other line and my heart aching all throughout and boy was it worth it.
➺ take five - by @jiminrings
| yoongi x reader | 10k
angst, fluff, unrequited love, pinning
summary: "dr. min yoongi's a board-certified dermatologist; skilled, renowned, and in-demand - oh and also, he's divorced."
➺ page turner - by @gukslut
| taehyung x reader | 13.6k
teacher!tae/ librarian!reader, fluff, smut, minor angst
summary: "corny romance and a zillion cheesy Romeo and Juliet quotes and references."
my tainted hopeless romantic heart ugh. they're so cute.
➺ bloom- by @hobidreams
| namjoon x reader | 20.7k
assassin!reader x florist!namjoon, smut, angst, action, sprinkles of fluff
>> summary: "family is who you kill for. who you die for. in this society, you and your kin are shadows, clinging to the darkness to obey orders absolute. but when such orders command you to abandon what little honor remains for wealth and notoriety, you find yourself lost in lonely uncertainty about the only vocation you’ve ever known. that is, until you meet a man with gentle hands, a poet’s heart, and a love for coaxing the world into bloom."
➺ counterfeit culture - by @ggukcangetit
| seokjin x reader | 29k
modern day au loosely based on jane austen’s pride & prejudice, e2l, fluff, smut, comedy
>>summary: “for as long as you can remember, you’ve always known right from wrong, good from bad, and woke from entitled/ignorant. but when you continue to cross paths with Kim Seokjin - the apparent antithesis of everything you believe in - certain walls begin to crumble. and over time, you come to realise that the world isn’t black and white, first impressions can be misleading, and that you are just as guilty as each person you’ve judged so harshly. realisation brings acceptance, and maybe, just maybe, acceptance can bring something more.”
➺ if i told you - by @gukyi
| jungkook x reader | 22k
friends to lovers!au, college!au, fluff, comedy, angst
>> summary: "in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him."
➺ to hold a dragon's heart - by @softlyjiminie
| taehyung x reader | 19.1k
dragon prince!kim taehyung x warrior princess!reader, smut, angst, fluff, forbidden romance, dragon shifter!au, royalty!au, enemies to lovers!au
>> summary: "two kingdoms, two hearts and the world between them. your whole life has been a challenge, never an easy moment on your road to becoming queen but will one decision, one encounter with the man you were destined to hate, change the fate of your worlds, forever?"
glimpse: dr. min yoongi’s a board-certified dermatologist; skilled, renowned, and in-demand — oh and also, he’s divorced.
alternatively, you’re yoongi’s nurse and you have a crush on him, and he gives you five chances to ask him out — he never said anything about accepting though.
[ angst, fluff, unrequited love, so much pining ]
notes: inspired by yang seok-hyeong and choo min-ha’s dynamic from hospital playlist!! you don’t necessarily have to watch it in order to read this :D this idea has been sitting in my notes for like a year now (yikes) and i’ve only found the wILL to do it now!! took a short break because i’ve been mostly just pumping out stem koo for the past months, but here’s a yoongi piece to cleanse everyone’s palate!! this has got to be one of my favorite pieces ever hee-hee
as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback/requests/love to my askbox anytime!!
[ part two ]
“Now where the hell did you hear that?”
Yoongi looks at you incredulously and for a moment, you think you’ve actually hit homerun with your stupid myth of the day because not only does he roll his eyes at you, he also scoffs and stops in his tracks.
“Just somewhere,” you mumble under your breath and hope that Yoongi doesn’t ask you for the exact source and citation because he already looks irked with what he just heard. “But they say it’s true though! If you don’t immediately drink water when you start having hiccups, you would have a breakout the next day or hours later, even.”
There is bliss in ignorance.
There is bliss and beauty in ignorance and it comes in the form of knitted brows and an agape mouth on Dr. Min, his eyes trained on you as if you asked him the stupidest question he's ever heard (you probably did) in his career and perhaps his lifetime.
Every week, from Monday to Saturday, Yoongi comes to his own clinic between the window of 8 to 8:15 in the morning wearing a bucket hat and his choice of clothing to wear under his white coat. Only his right hand would be occupied by the Louis Vuitton Keepall Bandoulière 45 bag, which he later tosses as soon as he enters the clinic and see his employees scramble to catch and save it, just to give himself a little chuckle every morning. He really couldn't care less if none of them manage to catch it, but it's kind of nice having a pointless yet joyful routine.
Additionally, every week, from Monday to Saturday, you come to Serendipity Aesthetics at 7:00 AM to drop off your things so you could walk to the expensive coffee shop to buy equally overrated coffee because after all, your place of work is in the heart of the luxury district. Between the window of 8 to 8:15, Dr. Min walks in and throws his designer bag into the air, to which every employee tries to catch so there wouldn't be a single scratch (but everyone knows that he literally wouldn't care if nobody could save it), and every single time, you're the one who catches his bag.
Also, every week, from Monday to Saturday, you make sure that you're Dr. Min's first interaction of the day.
It always starts with a pathetic skincare myth that you ask him to verify while he either confirms or denies it for you while walking to his office, giving him his coffee that you buy with your own money. It originally started with you searching compilations online and eventually, they got so boring and repetitive that you started making up your own.
The more ridiculous it is, the more reaction you get from Yoongi.
You quickly learned that by now and every morning, you get to see the way he furrows his eyebrows and you're convinced that if you say your myth in a defensive and completely-swayed tone, Dr. Min would actually look at you to deadpan.
This time, however, you probably struck gold.
"I would actually fire you if you even thought for a second that it would be true."
Granted, maybe the gold you thought you've struck is just plated and would turn green overnight.
"Very funny, Dr. Min. No explanation today?" you try to coax one from him because the door to his office is looking especially near and he doesn't allow you to enter anyway.
"I think it's pretty self-explanatory that I studied to be a doctor for more than a decade, have my own clinic, and threatened to fire you for your useless myth of the day, don't you think?" he hums lowly, wiping his finger to press his code onto his door.
"You do have a point," you sheepishly mumble at being outed more harshly for your tactics, "can I ask you something else though?"
Yoongi's eyes are glued on his phone as he just waves you off to both shoo and acknowledge you at the same time, leaning his weight to the door so he could both watch the highlight reel of a show he watched just last week and carry his bag.
"Later. I'm busy."
"No problem!" you stammer because you're not sure if you're ready to ask him anyway, wordlessly pushing the door open for him because he's deeply immersed on his phone. "Can I ask you over lunch? I-..."
... know a place.
Yoongi's door already closes on your face as the result of him kicking it backwards as he enters, making you take a step back to gather yourself.
You are not ready at all to ask him.
It's no secret that you have a crush on Dr. Min. Not at all. Practically everyone knows how head-over-heels you are for him; even the man himself actually.
It was embarrassing at first when it sinked into you that everyone collectively knows how you trail after him like a stray kitten whose gotten their first feed of the day, but later on, it’s something you actively and unnecessarily took pride in.
That way, you could ward off any other people in the clinic who have an eye on him! Dr. Park says that it’s the equivalent of a dog peeing on a fire hydrant within a street that nobody likes to walk in, but you just dismiss his comment as per usual. You’re sure that it’s impossible that no one likes him a little more than usual as an employee would, but perhaps they’re just not as showy as you are.
You can't pinpoint exactly why you have a crush on him because truth be told, you liked him in entirety. It was gradual, sure, but you liked him as a whole even from the start. Something about him’s so pulling that you find yourself complaining silently sometimes.
Liking him is easy. The variables aren't.
It just so happens that Dr. Min doesn't like you in that way, or in any way at all, but that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that. Everybody starts from zero at one point.
"Not to burst your bubble, buttercup, but you do know that Yoongi used to have a wife, right?"
Jimin, the cosmetic surgeon of Serendipity Aesthetics and Yoongi's business partner, asks you. He has no ill intent — he actually finds it adorable to see you pining after his best friend who's done nothing but turn you down.
It’s harsh, entertaining, but not laughable. Even the secondhand embarrassment and heartbreak makes Jimin look away whenever you ask Yoongi about his weekend. It’s a game of cat and mouse, but the only difference is that the mouse is unfazed and untouchable, and the cat's scared yet determined.
Coincidentally, Jimin's your childhood friend. Both his and your parents would assign him to watch over you even if he's just some years ahead of you. It even strengthened the bond of you treating him as an older brother and him fulfilling the role well, just as annoyingly.
Your communication hasn't been consistent especially when he entered medical school, which is why you've rarely ever heard about Yoongi before you even worked here. None of it matters though because it feels that you’ve been with Jimin for a lifetime in a literal sense, feeling a stroke of fate because somehow, he’s the common string that bridged you and Dr. Min unknowingly.
You like him a healthy amount. In a very respectful, healthy, almost pitiful amount.
"Yeah. I knew that," you sigh dejectedly, stirring your iced coffee that’s already gotten too watered-down for your taste. “She’s the model, right?"
How could you not?
How could you not know who Dr. Min’s ex-wife is because even before you worked in his and Jimin’s clinic, you’ve already heard of her?
You once saw her in an LED billboard once at a prime spot in a busy street. You saw her face on a promotional liquor poster in a convenience store without knowing that she was the wife of your then-crush (who you didn’t know yet) at the time. You see her large signature on the wall at a restaurant you regularly eat at but don’t have the appetite for nowadays.
"Mhmm, Jihye."
Jimin hums in agreement, spooning a portion from your plate and into his mouth because you’re too preoccupied to swat his hand away.
"Is she your best friend?"
Jimin rolls his eyes playful at the tone of your voice who’s suddenly gotten meek. "No, that's you, buttercup.”
You atleast feel comforted that Dr. Min’s ex-wife, whom you barely know, hasn’t managed to snatch perhaps your favorite person in the whole world. She once had Yoongi and that’s something you can stomach because it’s their life you’re not a part of, but something tells you that you’d be a little more bummed to know that Jimin and her are close just like the two of you.
“We were friends at best because I'm close to Yoongi and well... y'know..." He coughs awkwardly, eyes hesitantly looking up at you before he buries his face to the noodles to the point he could feel the steam rise to his face. "I was the best man at their wedding."
Jimin notices the way your mouth is just fixed on your dumpling, unmoving. It's only rare that you ask him about Dr. Min because there's always the guilt that you're just using your friendship with Jimin as leverage to know more about his colleague, but in the few times that you do ask about him, it always has something to do with major facts you can't immediately grasp your head around.
"Don't worry! They were in a relationship for three years, and only married for one. They knew each other even before Yoongi became a resident."
"That does not help me, Jimin. At all."
He only sheepishly scratches the back of his head, going back to his words which he now realizes did nothing to make you feel better.
"Relax. If you say something superlatively dumb enough for your skincare myths, he'll probably take the hint and date you out of pity."
You unclench your mouth on the dumpling, finding no will to chew it now that Jimin, once again, opened his mouth. "Made it even worse, actually."
He's no stranger to you feeling bummed but he knows that he's somehow in a bind because he's in a point of conflict between you and Yoongi, both his best friends. He can't exactly give you false hope in order to cheer you up, but he can't lie either and say that you don't have a solid fighting chance with Yoongi.
You're frowning but he knows you understand, well-aware that you'd recuperate soon enough.
"Cheer up. Just ask him out and if he denies you, then be it! I had a hand in designing this clinic, remember? It's big enough for you to avoid him."
"Not sure if I should feel inspired or discouraged," you tut under your breath, pressing your forehead down the table so you could ignore him while he leaves you alone. "Thanks, Dr. Park."
Jimin rolls his eyes at the nickname you use to spite him and only call him when the other employees are around, in which case there aren't, just because he did the equivalent of making you gulp orange juice after brushing your teeth like his sudden "I was the best man at Yoongi's wedding" revelation.
You don't know how long your forehead's been pressed to the table but it feels long enough to the point you hear a familiar set of footsteps you didn't anticipate to come this soon, immediately straightening your posture.
"Dr. Min! You're here!"
Yoongi looks up from his phone and nods, completely unsurprised that you're here in the breakroom at the exact moment that he comes in.
"Dr. Park bought everyone lunch today, yours is in this bag," you gesture to the meal you've separated and took the initiative of writing his name on so no one would "accidentally" claim it for themselves because it's always the one with the extra sauce and napkins.
He only hums as he plops down to the seat parallel to the paper bag, not registering it at all that you did it on purpose so he'd be sitting beside you. You didn't actually think he'd fall for it, but it's one of the times you feel indebted to his eager attention to his phone because he doesn't notice.
Yoongi sets his phone down on the table as it's held up by his convenient popsocket, immersed in slurping his own noodles to be oblivious of you who's close to losing your shit right beside him.
The opportunity is sitting right next to you and you didn't expect it to come this soon because if you knew that Dr. Min would be setting off your tentative plans unknowingly with how everything's coming to place, you probably would've rehearsed endlessly in front of a mirror.
"Can I ask my question now?"
Dr. Min's in the middle of chewing when you ask but he doesn't flinch, already aware that you ask him so much questions within a day that he feels like he's working with a nosey toddler.
"Go. You're gonna ask it anyway," he replies monotonously and continues chewing, bringing more noodles to his mouth even if his cheeks haven't deflated yet.
His nonchalance is what simultaneously intimidates and eggs you on, finding the words leaving your mouth with no filter at all.
"Can I ask you to go out with me? I'll only ask you five times and after that, I'm gonna get off your tail."
There's no beat of silence because Yoongi keeps chewing and you're sure you heard a chuckle in-between, looking at his side profile while holding your breath. You're just about to apologize for crossing a line you've been toeing for the better portion of a year when he looks at you once, briefly and lazily.
"Okay."
The word doesn't immediately click in your mind as you stumble with spelling out the letters in your head. Are you hearing it right? Is this just a side-effect of Jimin randomly clapping his hands beside your ears when you're getting groggy?
"O-okay? As in, yes?"
"Okay as in yes, you can ask me to go out with you," Dr. Min clarifies calmly, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips when he sees the favorite part of his show appear on-screen. "Asking me to go out with you is different from going out with you."
You're shell-shocked because that's exactly what you asked of him and you're even more surprised that he interpreted it as such, the weight of his approval now dawning on you.
"Of course."
Yoongi only hums but he can't bring himself to get another bite because you don't let a second go to waste, seeing your face plead closer to his peripheral vision that he only manages to give you a side-eye.
“Can we go out later, Dr. Min? I actually checked your schedule and you have nothing booked past 4 PM!”
You try to tone down your excitement and you're glad that the expectation of him answering you in the first try is only an afterthought, because he shoots you down twice as quick as you asked.
“No.”
“Do you have plans tonight then?” you prod with a gentle smile, trying to see if you can sway him even in the slightest.
“Nope.”
“Then why don't you wanna go out with me?” there's a light-hearted frown on your face and as much as you know that it won't elicit a reaction from Dr. Min, it's only playful. There's no real accusation nor anger behind your tone.
“Because I don’t, Y/N," Yoongi actually chuckles and he looks at you as if you're the silliest goose he's ever come across a pond. "You’re on closing duty later, bye!”
( ♡ )
“Good morning to my favorite dermatologist in this whole wide world!”
Yoongi hears you greet him cheerily and it almost makes him flinch because you materialized out of nowhere. He's about to scold you for doing that because who knows if you get mistaken and accidentally give a faint-hearted client with the shock of their lifetime, he really was about to — but he sees his cinnamon bun on your hand (courtesy of Jimin telling you his favorite dessert for the price of one cheek kiss), and all the words melt from his mouth.
“Good morning.”
Dr. Min almost snatches what you're holding and you almost huff, trailing beside him as his fingers quickly undo the familiar teal box packaging of his favorite pastry.
“You forgot 'Y/N, my favorite nurse in this whole wide world'.”
“No, I’m pretty sure I didn’t forget anything," he adds for good measure but something doesn't quite fit because as much as his hand is holding a box that houses his favorite type of sweet, his other hand doesn't feel warm. There's no cylindrical cup on his hand that makes his palm just the right amount of toasty and he realizes it the hard way because he raises his hand, ready to take a sip of a whole lot of nothing.
"Where's my-"
“Here’s your coffee.”
"Thanks," Yoongi feels the familiar warmth in his hand in a second and he sighs in relief inwardly, but there's just something off. Feels that there's something actively off because it's definitely more warm than what he'd feel in his regular cup. "Huh? Why is it in a mug?"
He wonders out loud and the sight of the ceramic mug is enough culture shock from the usual lidded paper cup he sees almost every morning, looking at you as if you've told him the worst insult known to man.
You didn't exactly think that Dr. Min would react as differently as this because Jimin said that coffee is still coffee to him, but in the process, you've directly forgotten that your friend told you right after Yoongi's coffee preferences — is that he tends to be a creature of habit.
“From the shop. I-I also bought the mug from the coffee shop so I can present it as this.”
You thought Dr. Min would be pleasantly surprised as he holds the too-expensive ceramic excuse for a coffee mug, but you don't know what to anticipate as he casts his eyes down.
GO OUT WITH ME? :), written in cocoa powder amongst the white froth, a product of going to the coffee shop extra early and having to fend off the red-haired barista with the bunny smile because he thought you were asking him out.
"Mhmm," Yoongi spends a second longer looking at the foam art before he takes a big gulp and effectively washes away what you significantly paid higher for than his usual coffee, trapping your wince at the back of your throat. You're looking at his Adam's apple and he looks just one gulp away from finishing it all, and he does right in front of you. "Can't. I'm taking my mom to go shopping."
You awe unconsciously as it's a known fact within the clinic that Yoongi adores his mom a lot and you see her quite often, having extra snacks being delivered personally to the employees each time because she's a nice and sincere woman.
“I can carry the bags?" you're only half-joking, a cheesy grin on your face, but Dr. Min only shakes his head at you and disappears into his office.
That's your second chance gone as quick as the latte disappeared into Yoongi's throat, but atleast you know that he doesn't hate the beverage and he can reuse the mug.
There's still some merit in your attempt somewhere.
There's never an empty instance in the clinic. It's always full. It's a little more high-end than most clinics and you could see it in the design and layout of the clinic itself, but it doesn't mean it's fully-exclusive. You see celebrities and socialites every other day and with the hands-on nature of your work, you're not as starstruck and bothered as you used to be.
There would always be more than a handful of VIP clients but that doesn't mean they're the only clientele. Serendipity Aesthetics isn't that snooty, and it's something you can manage with.
Your work's just as tiring as the doctors' and not a lot of people credit you for it, but it's something you shove to the back of your mind at the end of the day. You only scrunch your nose under your mask when you see the 73rd trustfund baby come into the clinic for the day, unfocus your eyes so you couldn't roll them when they manage to bring in their wealth that wasn't questioned into the conversation, and move on to your next patient.
You've just finished giving a diamond peel to a breadwinner mother (whom you've had a nice chat and laugh with throughout the process) when your eyes immediately lock in to the figure that knows no queues nor other clients as she walks past, walking straight to Dr. Min's procedure room.
And of course, you don't know whether fate is on your side or not, but you're the only assistant available to assist so naturally, Hoseok, the secretary, looks at you with a knowing nod.
You don't know what to expect when you come inside the procedure room, making yourself as small as possible when you knock twice briefly and enter, standing in the corner with your eyes trained on your clipboard.
Yoongi nods at you once in acknowledgement as his attending assistant, and you can barely acknowledge him back because the Jihye, who was Mrs. Min at one point, is in your direct line of sight.
She's sitting down but you can still see her graceful posture then with her shoulders pulled back and her hair framing her face perfectly. The casual sweater ensemble she wears is probably more expensive than your whole closet could be, but the gray of it doesn't dull her out at all. There's creases on the material since she's sitting down and is therefore not taut, but the wrinkles look poised on her figure nonetheless.
Her manicured hands sit prim and proper on Dr. Min's desk and you can't help but think how they used to look with a wedding band on her ring finger, your thought process making you look at his hands that are clasped right in front of him.
She smells expensive and important, just like how Dr. Min does. Not only do they have a figurative scent of gravitas surrounding them, but they also carry it literally. When they shared a home, have they started smelling like each other at one point? Does the intoxicating smell of daisies on Jihye become Yoongi's scent on his white coat at one point?
"What do you want, Jihye?"
You find yourself holding your breath in anticipation of hearing her voice in-person, and it's everything you've ever expected.
"Undereye fillers, please. I have campaigns and Fashion Week back to back so I need a touch-up."
Expensive, important, elegant, sweet.
Yoongi sighs under his breath, standing up from his seat to examine closer. You almost move to stand beside him to assist but you forget that of course, Dr. Min has his own penlight. You're paralyzed at your corner but you can't help but watch.
You watch him press Jihye's undereyes lightly with the pad of his thumb and then with his ring finger, assessing intensively but holding her lightly as if she's made of glass.
"They're not that sunken-in like usual. You still want a touch-up?"
Jihye laughs sweetly, putting a hand on her chest as she tilts her head up at Yoongi.
"Ah. You're still so sweet to me."
Yoongi doesn't indulge her with a laugh but instead just rolls his eyes, going back to his seat as he types into his chart. "Would that be all?"
"That's it for now," Jihye grins, clutching her purse to her chest as she rocks back and forth on her heels even if she's sat down. "Always down for a facial from you though."
"Jihye."
Yoongi clicks his tongue and gives his ex-wife a warning gaze, and just for the slightest fraction, you feel him turning his gaze to you. His gaze that's not for the purpose of feeling sorry you had to hear that, but rather for the purpose of telling his ex-wife that the two of them aren't alone.
"Yoongi."
She drawls sweetly and you could only look away because this banter of theirs doesn't concern you at all.
Dr. Min ignores her and looks at you, a firm line on his lips.
"Get me the materials, Y/N."
"Extra ice too! I wanna munch on some," Jihye adds as you're on your way out and you make the note of getting more ice from the freezer because she asked so, filling up a champagne glass neatly.
You wheel in your cart and you could only reply with a stiff nod when she thanks you eagerly, already plopping an ice cube to her mouth.
You wait as you see Yoongi become gentle, all from the way he injects the filler to massaging the skin underneath Jihye's eyes.
They're divorced and yet they look casual as they've always done this. They probably did and still continue to. They look like they still belong to each other.
You can't deny that Jihye's pretty and although you're not privy to details if she has work done or not, it doesn't change the fact that she's pretty. She must and is the prettiest girl in the world for Yoongi because obviously, he married her. Loved her. Maybe even currently love her even.
You feel silly. A little more silly than usual like what Yoongi points you out to be because after all, you're an assistant at work who's holding the tissues and the icepack, feeling as if you have the right to intrude or even be jealous of the fact that your boss, the one you have a pathetically huge crush on, is laughing with his ex-wife over an inside joke like what all couples have.
Like what all couples, divorced or not, have.
( ♡ )
Yoongi thinks he's actually managed to escape you.
He's in his procedure room simply because the airconditioner blows colder and not because he has a patient to meet at the moment. It's his favorite kind of quiet; no one's daring to knock on his door, no shoes squeaking, no you who keeps asking him questions at every waking moment you could find.
Come to think of it, not only did he barely see you today, but he also barely saw everyone in the clinic. It's unusual to say the least because for the hundred times that he passes by Hoseok, he now realizes that he barely occupies his position at the front desk. He's heard nothing from Jimin either whose office is just right next to his, unaccustomed to not having someone knock on his door until he budges and lets him in because the guy just wanted to hang out even in silence.
Actually, he doesn't know anyone's whereabouts at the moment. The clinic's full even at lunchbreak but it oddly feels quiet, making him put his phone down and debate to whether or not he should check up on everyone.
“Give me a facial, please.”
Yoongi practically jumps out of his seat when he hears someone pipe up from right behind him, goosebumps forming at the back of his neck as he automatically flinches.
He knows it's you but he didn't know it would be you who's sneaked up on him out of nowhere. Sometime in his whole thought process, you've already opened the door to his room without him noticing and he's badly reaping the consequence of not being perceptible enough.
"Holy fuck," he clutches at his chest from the shock upon seeing you that's slowly simmering down, throwing his head back, only to see you smiling at him gently as if you didn't age him atleast two years faster. "A facial?"
Yoongi grimaces at your crude plead, snickering to himself, but when he registers the weirded-out look on your face, he immediately remembers his profession and what you're actually asking from him.
“Yup! A facial.”
You seem to have no qualms about repeating your request and that's because you don't have any, feeling fully confident in yourself because you're certain that he can't deny such a trivial request at the time.
“Do you have a schedule with me? Have you paid to the front desk already?” Dr. Min asks you in succession and tilts his head at you, making his newly-dyed blonde hair bounce from side to side intentionally.
It's cute, really, but you didn't come here unprepared. After all, you believe that it's Dr. Min this time who owes you something.
“But it’s my birthday — you didn’t know?“
That throws him off the loop for a second and he doesn't even actually believe that it's your birthday at first, especially coming from you whom he believes is a big fan of bogus skincare myths and probably eats them for dinner.
He's about to ask you for some ID but the dots connect in his mind before he polices his employee over their own birthday; why everyone's been missing, why Jimin couldn't stay still the whole morning, why he's been seeing random balloons being held by patients in the waiting area, and why there's some bit of frosting left on the side of your jaw.
“Why would I know when your birthday is?”
“You hired me.”
You blink owlishly at what’s supposed to be an obvious answer but Yoongi reads it as being a smart-ass.
“I hired you for your credentials, not your birthday,” he rolls his eyes and you already know he’s fully recovered from the unintentional spook you’ve given him. "Actually, scratch that — Jimin told me to hire you."
You'd like to think that you'd get hired nonetheless if not for Jimin, but the thought lingers heavily on you. It leaves a bad taste on your tongue and you’re unaware that it shows on your face because for a second, Yoongi feels as if he should apologize because he may have took it too far. In full honesty, the whole concept of it only struck you now and you don’t know what to think of it, especially in a day you swore you’d only be self-indulgent.
You miss a single beat and the needier part of Yoongi’s guilt feels compelled.
“I’m-…”
“Nevermind. It’s okay! But it’s my birthday, and you told me that you give your employees a free facial as a birthday gift!”
Yoongi feels saved with your smooth transitioning but his eyes narrow once he recognizes the gist of what you’re saying, deeming it to be a little too demanding because all he wanted to do this afternoon was to lay back in between appointments.
"I can just give you a gift card,” he offers and he thinks you’re gonna accept the upgrade which is why he’s about to stand up and retrieve it from his office right this instant, being stopped abruptly when you block his way out of his chair.
“No. I want a facial.”
He hasn’t even started telling you that he has some designer gift cards in his drawer as well but you already shake your head no to what he was about to say, unrelenting when he tries to walk past you that only prompts you to hold your arms out horizontally.
“Fine. It’ll just be a quick one after the last patient and-...”
“Actually, your patient for this hour just cancelled because she has to appear in court for evading taxes or something.”
He blinks once, clearly unnerved. “Oh. Naeun? Again?”
Dr. Min hums to himself about taxes and turns his back on you silently, making you stammer in place because you don’t know if you’d accept rejection at your birthday this early into your attempt. You want to ask one more time if he’s still giving you a facial or not because you’re just standing there as still as an idle video game character, waiting for a prompt that would directly address you.
“What are you doing?” he asks you and you look straight to the mirror that’s in front of him, wide-eyed at being guilty for simply just standing in his presence. “Lie down already. I thought you wanted your birthday present?”
You realize belatedly that Dr. Min’s standing by his employee benefit because while he had his back turned on you because it turns out he was just preparing the tools and equipment he needed for your facial, not because he was annoyed at you and wanted you to take a hint by making you look at his back.
You've never been in this position, actually — the one where you're lying on the patient's bed and Dr. Min's looking down on you, the mix of a scowl and a small smile on his face just to appease you.
He's gentle. Much more gentle that you thought now that you're on the receiving end of his hands. Puts the least amount of pressure in holding up your head to put on a headband before setting you back down, his hands close enough to your face that you could smell the familiar scent of the clinic's hand soap.
You surprisingly melt when Dr. Min dots the cold cleanser to your face and rubs gently in small circles, expecting to flinch because of the overwhelmingly new experience, but there's just something in the way he caresses your face that puts you into ease.
“Jimin and the others prepared me a cake in the breakroom awhile ago.”
Your eyes are closed and you're relaxed and you don't entirely know if it's still a good look on you because Dr. Min's still rubbing in the cleanser, not entirely lying when he says that he's considering on rubbing in the lather to your mouth because he expected you not to talk this much considering he's already in the midst of giving you a facial.
“I pay all of you and you didn’t offer me any,” he mumbles in faux dejection, but the thought of having cake with the chocolate icing he's swiped from your jaw does sound appetizing.
“You were out on lunchbreak.”
You were out on lunchbreak with your ex-wife.
You withhold the last bit that you came to know because of Jimin, since he was on the way to Yoongi's office to invite him for your impromptu birthday lunch but couldn't even finish his invitation because Yoongi already uttered urgent lunch and Jihyo in the same sentence.
“Do you know what my wish was?” you speak meekly but Dr. Min doesn't notice the dimming hope behind it, one that's about to wear off sooner or later.
“Humor me,” he murmurs and that's when you hear the familiar beep of the steamer in your side, knowing that it would grant him 20 minutes of separation from you which he probably craves.
You've memorized it by now — steaming your face doesn't actually open your pores, and neither does washing your face with cold water close them. Steaming just loosens the pores which therefore allows products to seep in deeper and further.
Apart from that, there's one thing you've also come to memorize.
“That you’ll go on a date with me.”
Dr. Min chuckles and atleast you know that it'll soften the blow you expect by now.
“Nope. I’m watching a movie in the cinema with my friends tonight.”
You open your eyes and he closes them right back because it'll hurt to open with the hot steam, unconsciously doing it with a tut on his lips.
“It’s my birthday," you weakly offer with a pout on your mouth and you're oblivious to the half-smile Dr. Min has on his face because of course, your eyes are closed and have been threatened once again to be fired if you don't keep them closed.
“It’s my movie time.”
( ♡ )
Nothing’s going right.
You watched a movie last night with Jimin and it ended up having a cameo of Jihye, making the remaining thirty minutes in the cinema become a darkroom for all of your doubts and insecurities, while Jimin chews your remaining popcorn as silently as he could (because it would be a waste) while rubbing circles on your forearm.
You drank with him all night but he's counting his shots because he obviously has some clients to attend to the next day. It's not exactly a good look of being hung-over with his eye twitching as he completes a rhinoplasty at 1 in the afternoon.
Your car wouldn't be fixed for another week and when you hitched a ride with Jimin and passed by the shop, it's because your car's in the corner and everyone's working on a flashy blue Maserati, in which he made the off-hand comment that it looks like Jihye's but he isn't entirely sure.
Everything from last night until today makes you feel like you don't have control over anything at all. It's deflating and pitying and it adds to the ever-growing con list of what it's like to have a crush on your divorced boss.
So while Dr. Min's standing in his gown since he's assisting Jimin, and in turn you're assisting them and the two of you are alone because Jimin's still washing his hands outside, you ask.
“Go out with me?”
“Can’t.”
“Okay.”
Yoongi's eyes widen at your straightforward reply, cutting to the chase. There's no pleas, no rebuttals and most of all, there's no underlying curiosity. No sneak-handed question that inquires what exactly were his plans.
It's just a plain okay that he can't wrap his head around, making him look at you whose gaze is set on the patient's gown.
“It’s Jihye’s grandmother’s birthday today. She’s old-old — you get the point. Still thinks we’re together and we don’t wanna break her heart.”
He feels compelled to explain even if you haven't asked him remotely, preparing himself for any added questions you might have.
“M’kay. Have fun tonight.”
The question marks visibly float on top of his head and he doesn't know what he's missing, the opening of the door to the surgery suite signifying Jimin's entrance furthermore making his head cloudy.
“Yup. Gonna have a blast with my ex’s family," he says it either as a snide remark or a half-attempt in getting a reaction from you; either way, it dissipates into the air and he gets nothing.
You accept that nothing's going your way and it rarely does otherwise.
Yoongi keeps looking at you like he's never met you before.
( ♡ )
Yoongi enters the clinic, throws his bag into the air, and his eyes practically pop out of his head when he sees that it's Hoseok who's holding it.
Where are you?
It's emptying, almost. He's not hearing a skincare myth first thing in the morning and he doesn't have a warm cup of coffee on his hand, be it in a regular cup or a mug.
In fact, he's walking alone to his office and he feels the need to keep darting his head around because you must be hiding in one of the many vantage points you could spring out of.
There's a shadow set on the large couch, and he feigns his surprise that it's you who's gonna jump beside him any moment now, but it turns out to be the fake plant in the corner.
It's the big green fake plant they bought for accessories in the event that a patient of theirs would be allergic to a real one, and Yoongi's never felt this much annoyance towards an overpriced leafy hunk of plastic.
Jimin hasn't arrived yet but he assumes that it's because you're with him. You've got to be.
Jimin arrives sooner than anticipated as if to calm the curiosity in Yoongi's mind but immediately furrows his brows at him because he actually looks disappointed that he's here.
Yoongi peers at the empty spot beside his friend, even trying to peer his head further for the familiar package deal named you that he carried in mornings.
"Is Y/N with you?"
"No...?" Jimin tilts his head, genuinely confused that he's asking him about you, but is even more confused to learn that you're not here. "Is she with you?"
"No," Yoongi shakes his head no somberly, awkwardly standing as he tries to look behind him to see if you've already creeped your way there. "Weird."
He exits himself from the situation even before Jimin can question him and they both think it's the logical thing to do, especially since it's concerning you and they've been dancing around the topic of you for some time now — from the perspective of the one being crushed on and a potential love interest, the other being your best friend.
You come in some time later, still early before opening but Yoongi's not used to it at all. This is perhaps the first time he's seen you arrive later than he does, but he's conflicted if he ever wants that to happen again.
He's looking at his schedule for the day yet he can't help but peek at his window, anticipating a you who's trying to steal a glance but there's no attempts made, just walking straight past his office and into Jimin's next door.
Weird.
His whole day started off weird and his first interaction is basically omitted from his book because it doesn't start with his usual habit of fact-checking your myth, leaving a bitter taste on his mouth.
He has his own stash of his favorite snacks in his office but he plans to drop by the breakroom nonetheless after flying through all of his appointments before noon, instead accidentally (but thankfully) walking out to the whiff of your perfume because you just walked in front of him, entertaining a client that must be a walk-in.
"Taehyung?"
You walk to the familiar face you probably last saw just a few weeks ago, seeing his face register you belatedly in warmth and relief.
"Y/N, there you are! I was about to start knocking on every door to look for you," he sighs and you know he sincerely means it, thankful you've showed up just in time because he probably would've caused a ruckus by doing that.
"What do you need? I fell asleep early last night so I didn't get to answer your call."
Yoongi thinks that if he stands still enough, he could be mistaken for a fake plant with a white coat. He tries his best to fix his eyes and not be caught eavesdropping and looking, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's the best at it.
This guy calls you? At night too?
"Just my lobes. I need you to stitch them up back to normal. Tried the rubbing oil method for like a month but it barely did anything."
"Ah," you hum in recognition, gently taking Taehyung's earlobe into your fingers that makes him tilt his head to you in obedience so you could examine it closely. "You only had small gauges. 10G, right? 2.5mm is something I can work on alone."
Yoongi manages to conclude that you're somehow familiar and acquainted with this Taehyung guy, easily taking him under your wing and into an empty procedure room as if the two of you do this everyday.
It's a minor procedure. Local anesthesia and some stitches and Taehyung could walk out in less than an hour. Normally, if the gauges are bigger and therefore the earlobe's more stretched out, Jimin's called in to operate but 10G is something you can do without supervision, meaning that you and said guy would be alone together in the procedure room.
“Need help?”
As a doctor, Yoongi's just offering his supervision and guidance — that's all.
Taehyung's already well-acquainted in his position and so are you, the past fifteen minutes he's spent talking and hyping himself up to stroll in as casually as he could already meant giving you much leeway in between.
“No need doc," surprisingly, it's Taehyung who answers, a warm smile on his face which makes his shoulders vibrate in the slightest to which you tut at him. "Y/N’s used to this already.”
Yoongi's surprised but he doesn't let it show, clicking in his mind that the guy seems like a familiar face he's seen before but he can't place it exactly.
“Oh. Are you a regular in my clinic?”
“Hmm? Oh, no! I’m a first-timer here. I just meant that Y/N’s-“ he gets cut off and it's because you bump your knee into his to stop talking and moving, your voice finishing up his small explanation. "Used to stitching him up."
Tae's kind of scared to talk even more because after all, you're the one who's holding the needle to his ear, not wanting to unintentionally test you further so he just whispers to Yoongi instead.
“Exactly what she said.”
Yoongi feels like he's barging into a couple's business whom he's not a part of. He's seeing you in action as you reconstruct Taehyung's earlobes and that's where the familiarity hits him, quietly awing to himself.
Isn't this Taehyung guy famous?
You didn't take his offer up for help but he still shadows you, maneuvering himself behind you instead of standing by the door alone, not even pretending to give you pointers to fill up the uncomfortable silence (for him) because you both know you're doing a great job.
“Hey, remember when I thought that guy was flirting with you in the bakery?”
Taehyung suddenly pipes up and you have to hold still with the needle in your hand, shoulders shaking in a slight laugh.
“Of course. You ended up punching my brother.”
The two of you fondly laugh and it feels extra humorous because the two of you are trying not to move your bodies to the best of your abilities, seeing his cheeks turn red from trying to stifle his laughs as much as he could.
“He didn’t know whether he’d feel mad or proud of me that time.”
Yoongi turns up the light brighter that focuses on his earlobes that makes Taehyung squint. Normally, that's his non-verbal way of saying that the two of you should not be a having a moment right now, especially with him in the room.
He quips his lips to the side but stays quiet, his once-stable breaths dragging out extra slow.
“You free tonight? Minhyung’s staying with me for a week," he complies when you ask him to turn his head slightly, getting a response to his offer just as quick.
“Yeah, sure! Missed him anyway. He’s how old now?”
“Seven. He pokes fun at me now.”
The reminder of meeting Minhyung when he was barely a toddler versus the comparison of bullying his older brother now makes you laugh, remembering all the fond interactions you've had and continue to have with him. Just last month, Tae called you in the middle of the afternoon because Minhyung was suddenly looking for you.
You wrap up quickly and you wouldn't realize if not for Dr. Min who's been standing behind you almost the entire time, a barely-audible bite to his words. "He's finished."
Dr. Min beats you into relaying the aftercare instructions and follow-up check-up, the lax nature of how he usually explains being a stark contrast to how he sounds quick right now.
Taehyung's oblivious to the difference you could notice but he listens nonetheless, bidding you with a sweet warm smile as he exits the room.
“Thanks Y/N, see you later!”
Dr. Min shuts the door behind him and proceeds to clean up the station you've worked on, getting you into work because you don't quite understand why he even came in here in the first place.
“You didn’t tell me you had Kim Taehyung the model for a boyfriend.”
He passive-aggressively murmurs but you catch it, thinking nothing of the unusual nature your superior is exhibiting.
“You know him? He’s that famous now, huh?”
Yoongi, however, freezes. It's far from your easy chuckle and way further from the territory of peace because his face morphs into confusion. “What? I was kidding with you. He is your boyfriend?”
"What?" your eyes glaze at the odd joke you wouldn't have bothered correcting in the first place because you didn't think he'd ask, much less assume, in the first place anyway. “Oh no, he’s my ex-boyfriend.”
Yoongi genuinely doesn't know what to feel about that.
Is he frustrated over the fact that Taehyung isn't your boyfriend at the moment, or is it over the fact that you're exes and therefore share history together in a way he can't decipher?
He doesn't meet your gaze, the pettiness running through his bones before he could register it as such.
“I don’t believe that. Pretty sure no one would go to their ex’s place especially at night.”
The words he's just uttered basically tells you that he's eavesdropped well and even added his own analysis to it, feeling offended because as what you can recall, you didn't even ask him for his own take.
“I’m hanging out with him and his little brother.”
“Still. No one does that.”
You play off the offense you feel into nonchalance, gritting your teeth as you disinfect the area for the next patient.
“You can be friends with an ex, it’s possible, Dr. Min,” you wipe extra hard at the bed, not even knowing why you feel defensive for a situation that doesn't even involve him. “We didn’t break up in bad terms anyways so it was more than plausible that we would be friends.”
He looks up inhumanely fast, eyes trained on you as if you've grown two heads within a second.
“That’s impossible.”
You humorlessly chuckle and that's the end of it, choosing to tune him out while you clean up as quick as you could because you don't even know if you could stay in a space with him any longer.
Yoongi finds it odd that you're not searching for his gaze, stopping right in front of you when you retrieve the remaining sanitary equipment.
“Have you even checked the schedule? You agreed to him so quick. Who knows, we’d probably do overtime.”
“Then I’m reminding you that I’ve never been absent ever since I started working here, and if we need to do overtime, I’m using my leave.
Dr. Min hardens his glare at you. “That’s against the law, I’m pretty sure.”
“I can ask Tae later, his mom’s a lawyer.”
You add harmlessly as it's the truth and it does make you curious if it's just his unknown pettiness or the law that's talking, seeing his eyes roll at your quip.
“Heh," he narrows his eyes and turns his back on you, quick hands moving into a blur while he goes on his way out. “The gauze’s contaminated now. Get a new one.”
Yoongi can't explain it but he feels like something's changed in his routine and in some way, it has something to do with you.
His entrance every morning feels weird and his arm wants to give out every time he throws his bag into the air because it's not your familiar face that squeezes in so close beside him even if there's plenty of space for you to walk on.
He finds himself looking through windows and wandering through hallways just to look for a trace of you, even if it's the little chocolate nibs you snack throughout the whole day or if it's your extra handkerchief that Jimin uses because he forgets his all the time.
You’re supposed to ask him anytime now, aren't you?
You've used four of your chances in four different occasions with no exact pattern to it, but Yoongi knows. He knows and feels that it's been too long ever since the last time you asked him out (that was two weeks ago) in the procedure room and he doesn't know when the next would be.
He's sure it's a tactic of yours. It must be. You must've been doing it in a certain method that trains him to miss you and look for you unconsciously, even if he's at home and not in the clinic.
Yoongi finds himself lingering around you and he doesn't know if he could just continue hovering and hovering in this way; in a way that's unlike yours because you're unafraid to stand so close to him, talk to him whenever you please, and trail around him like a lost puppy.
He thinks he's had enough when he sees you enter the clinic, just thirty minutes away from opening and goes straight to Jimin's office, walking out later in your scrubs that makes him audibly gasp in surprise.
You enter the breakroom and he finds himself tailing after you unceremoniously, not being able to wait atleast five minutes to enter.
You're just now eating your breakfast because you've had a late start to your morning, also waiting a little later for you to retrieve your car from the shop that took longer than what you initially expected.
You're mid-bite into your cereal when you see a shadow cast onto the table, looking up to see Dr. Min who avoids your gaze as soon as you catch him.
“Yes.”
You chew slowly and cover your mouth when he turns to you, arms across his chest while you try to swallow. “I’m not following...?”
He sighs heavily, not knowing he had to spell it out for you.
Yoongi sits beside you and scoots his chair closer to yours, leaning his face onto his hand that makes you confused even more on how he's willingly sitting this close beside you.
“Yes, I’m going on a date with you.”
You swallow your cereal without a fuss as it registers in your head collectively, a curious and inquisitive quirk to your lips that throws him off.
“I didn’t ask, though.”
“No, this is the part where you use your fifth chance to ask me out and I accept.”
It's quite entertaining to see Dr. Min act and talk so impulsively, not used to seeing him this frustratedly determined. “But I haven’t asked.”
Yoongi closes his eyes once, his shoulders relaxing.
“Then I’m saying yes for the four previous times you asked me.”
You snort to your cereal and you're thankful that it happens before you scoop another spoonful to your mouth, shaking your head somberly.
“That doesn’t count.”
Yoongi pouts childishly, his brows furrowing at the concept of you denying him this time and not getting what he wants.
“Yes it does.”
“I can’t take you out, Dr. Min. I’m actually a little short on some date money because I’ve been buying you expensive coffee every single morning.”
"Just Yoongi," he corrects but doesn't choose to comment on the fact that you haven't been buying him coffee for two weeks now and he's unknowingly formed a dependency on the coffee and you. “Then I’ll pay for the date.”
“Then that means you’re taking me out on a date.”
“I know, which is why I’m saying yes, I’m accepting-“
You stop the flow of words that makes Dr. Min frown even deeper, looking severely dejected but the guilt doesn't hit you as much. “You can’t. That wasn’t our deal.”
“Then ask me to go out with you.”
It's a suggestion he brings up softly, uncertainty lacing his features because actually, it doesn't sound like a suggestion at all — sounds more of a plead than anything.
“Hmmm,” you pretend to think even if you already had a concrete plan for the day. “I’m busy. Dr. Park needs me.”
Dr. Min clears his throat, sitting up straighter and looks at you.
“Please ask me to go on a date with you.”
“Dr. Park needs me.”
Yoongi exhales through his nose and stands up, straightening his shirt and rearranging the bucket hat on his head before he relents, leaving you alone.
You think that's just about the end of it, but you're wrong because you see Dr. Min pop into the breakroom the moment lunchbreak starts, picking up Jimin who's sitting beside you and ushering him out of the door.
"The fuck? Yoongi! Stop — stop pushing me! You seriously can't just throw me out of the-"
Your eyes are still fixed on the door that Dr. Min just pushed Jimin out of and locked him out entirely, barely glancing to the paper bag that he put in front of you.
He occupies the chair beside you and clears his throat once again, clasping his hands tightly.
“Five takes.”
"Huh? Dr. Min, did you seriously just-..."
Yoongi pokes your cheek to get you to look at him, effectively taking your gaze out of the door.
“Give me five chances to ask you out.”
You thought he wouldn't push it to this because you swore you know him — know him well-enough that he doesn't like you and wouldn't care enough to pursue you once you've stopped.
“Why?”
He blinks owlishly because you're still asking him why when he thought he couldn't make his intentions any more clear, the two weeks without the usual you making him realize it further.
“I could say that I’m asking you this so you could give me a taste of my own medicine,” his attempt at what's supposed to be a joke makes you scoff, later chuckling when he waves his hands around desperately to clarify. “But as much as my pride would like that,” he murmurs. “I uh, I do want to go out with you.”
Hearing it from him is surreal, to say the least. It's something you've never thought to hear and it's admittedly something you've given up on trying to hear not too long ago.
“No.”
“No?”
“I’m going grocery shopping later,” you tell him and it makes his eyebrows knit in confusion, lips opening apart as he understands.
Yoongi grabs the prescription pad that fits snugly to his white coat, handing it to you as he explains it could be something for you to write your grocery list on.
“Thank you Dr. Min,” you chuckle at the wholesome gesture, a lot of pages left when you could've settled for a single leaflet.
“Great! I’ll be seeing you-“ he stands up and claps his hands, effectively being stopped when you reach out for him.
Then he understands.
“No.”
“I have a rewards card that’s been accumulating points for years now! You can use it," he offers gingerly, a grin on his face.
“Thoughtful, but no.”
“I can drive the cart really smoothly and I can promise you that I won’t even bump to your foot once," he nods for a convicting effect, thinking if he'd pass this time.
“Talented, but no.”
“I can lift all the grocery bags in one trip.”
“Nice try, but no.”
“No?” Yoongi parrots you with a tilt on his head, a slight pout on his face that makes him look warmer.
“No."
Yoongi accepts it and nod his head, pulling himself out of his chair before he convictedly talks again.
“M’kay. That was take one,” he says it out loud to console himself, earning a surprised gaze from you. “Four more chances left, right?”
Yoongi wordlessly stands and grabs a plate from the cupboard, taking out the lunch he's bought for you from the paper bag and sets your favorite food (courtesy of Jimin for a price of one hug) there instead, setting and plating it in front of you.
He taps two fingers on your cheeks, a cozy smile on his face as he tries to earn himself a loving smile from you before he exits the breakroom.
summary: in a world of painters and poets, there were two college students looking for the right sort of inspiration. through devotion in your craft, you find yourself drawn to kim taehyung—a grad student painter who’s everything you’ve ever looked for in a character. his walk, his form of speech, his art, it all captivated you to the point where you wanted to recreate him in words and you begin to realize how similar the two of you really are. you share a sort of obsession in your work that seems like only each other could understand and he invites you into his world of oil paints and charcoals in hopes of drawing you on paper.
✎ genre/au: dark academia. college au. painter!taehyung x writer!y/n [afab. she/her]
✎ 17.4K words
“He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” — Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë
warnings: smut. slight obsession with their work. prestigious college. tae literally takes oc to a graveyard. oc and tae dont take criticism well. unprotected intercourse. oral [f and m]. oc slobs on his knob and tae eats like it’s the last supper. missionary. side position. lowkey passionate sex. fireplace crackling. namjoon and oc used to be fwb. hints that oc and Jimin used to be fwb too. jungkook is tae’s sculpture artist bestie. jimin is oc’s ballerina bestie. namjoon is oc’s writer bestie.
The smell of cigarettes was something you were fairly used to being around where you resided. You’re not sure what makes it so popular among young academics and sometimes you wonder if it’s not the need of nicotine but more so the aesthetic of it that they all seem to enjoy. It seemed to always linger in the air around campus where all the grad students would walk with their heads down and bags under their eyes as stress took over their entire being. You understand the stress but being an undergrad student yourself, you’re not sure you could understand the extent of it that they must feel. All you could really do is watch the way it slowly deteriorates their body every time they step into the library.
Maybe it’s the Literature major in you, but you never fail to try and assess each person that walks in as if you could see their entire character design and what makes them who they are. Today you got a bit lucky because despite how slow your homework had been going, your favorite case of study had just walked in wearing his usual black turtleneck tucked into a pair of loose corduroy pants. He wore a pair of rounded wire glasses that you love getting to see him in and they did wonders to conceal the eye bags you knew were there.
With this smallest hint of entertainment you’ve found through your long and boring study session with only one friend to confide in, you shut your copy of — excuse the pretentiousness — The Pictures of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, and lowered the volume on your headphones enough to be more aware of the cause of his visit today. You rarely saw him in the library and if he did happen to come by it was to check out or check in a single book on Michaelangelo or Davinci.
You were surprised by how close he seemed to have gotten to you today. The table you studied at was only a couple feet away from a book aisle he had currently walked down and now he was just a meter or so away with his head down in his book. The usual smell of smoke surrounded him and despite scrunching your nose at the smell, you chose to ignore it and study him a little further. You even went as far as to lower your headphones until they curled around your neck giving him your attention even if he didn’t know he had it.
As much of an observer as you were, you never seemed to catch on to the way his gaze would shift to you any time you weren’t looking, eyes scanning your features rather quickly as he made his own assessment. You dressed warmly today, probably due to the fact that there’s been a light rain that has been casted over the city, always seeming to linger longer where the buildings were older and all signs of urban life seemed to dissipate. You were dressed in neutral tones today that placed you perfectly with your own surroundings and if this was a painting he’s sure you would be the focal point—or maybe the single spec of bright color you wore which was in this case your powder blue headphones. He’s not sure he’s ever used that specific shade of blue in a single one of his works before but maybe he’ll look into it.
He rarely visited the library but when he did it was always a pleasant surprise to see you there. He didn’t care much to get to know you, he just found the aesthetic of it all captivating. The library was beautiful, truthfully, with its dark wood shelves and polished tile floors that echoed with each step. It was eerily quiet and it always smelled of old books and always reminded him of a cathedral. There were large stained glass windows of poets, painters, dancers, etc. the clear glass windows overlooked the large pond that covered the back of the small campus where the woods began to take over and student life decreased aside from the occasional late night college party hosted there between trees and bonfires.
“He always comes into my work for paints. I wonder why he always pays in cash.” Your friend said, suddenly appearing next to you and not messing with the printer anymore. He must’ve caught sight of Taehyung before he left and considering he worked at a supply store, it was no surprise he recognized him.
“Maybe he hates banks,” you joked, turning to Jimin with a smile. Jimin pursed his lips staring down the aisle where Taehyung had disappeared once he had his book, “Maybe cash is more aesthetically pleasing. He’s an art major, isn’t he? I say he’s too pretentious to use a plastic card—or even worse, Tap to Pay.”
At that you laughed, deciding to continue the teasing of a man you barely knew while also trying to defend him, “Do people ever get tired of throwing words around?”
“Are you referring to my use of ‘pretentious’?” Jimin asked as he moved to the other side of the counter, “I used the term correctly, it’s an adjective meaning, ‘attempting to impress by affecting greater importance and culture than is actually possessed’. His refusal to adhere to society’s technological advances is pretentious in itself. I bet he still uses No. 2 pencils as an act of defiance against mechanical pencils—if he was a writer like you he would probably be more drawn to a pen but he’s an artist and artists make mistakes that get covered up or changed.”
You couldn’t help but smirk at that, “Tell me then, Jimin, what does a ballerina use to convey words? An Arabesque?”
Jimin released a loud groan, “I hate this goddamn school.”
You watched him open his newest generation laptop and hide behind it. He knew now how little room he had to talk. You, yourself, couldn’t utter a word to disagree with him either when in your hand was a Montblanc fountain pen that cost your parents a hefty 1,500$ to get to you when you were first accepted into the school. You’re sure when the time comes for you to finish undergrad, they’ll up the price and give you one worth 4,000$—the most profound amount of proof that you did in fact strictly use pens for everything.
You would never dare mention anything revolving around the money Taehyung’s family is rumored to have because you don’t know anything about him to do so.
All you knew were the few things you’ve noticed — a couple that even made it into your journal — like the fact that he specialized in two mediums; charcoal and oil paintings. He’s a known name at the University for his work and dedication and you saw that through one of his works. It was dark and a bit twisted but it told a story and you think that’s what drew you into him before you even knew it was him.
Despite his strong presence that always seemed to draw you in, he had a gift for making himself invisible in a group setting. He never spoke up in class, never caused a fuss, he was in and out like a shadow.
At the start of the semester you were taken by surprise when you found him sitting in one of the back rows of the lecture hall to an advanced anatomy class that you’re sure you took for very different reasons. Taehyung was interested in the study of the body so he could fully understand the way the it works from the inside out. He wanted to understand how each limb moved, how fluid each bone and muscle connected, how they could contort, see where the organs go, imagine the flesh coming to life when he painted.
In literature, anatomy isn’t referring to the human body. It refers to a separation of a topic into smaller parts for detailed analysis of the work. You did not make a mistake when you chose this lecture, you too wanted to study the body for your work. You wanted to learn how fragile it really was, how it could be destroyed, how hard it was to do so. You wanted to know about which bones were weaker, which organ puncture did the most damage. You need visuals and understanding of its healing process, of the way it moved, how the nervous system worked. Once you had a better understanding of the body, you just knew that you would be able to apply all these things to your writing. You would be able to detail how your character’s body deteriorated outside and in. How the body would slowly break down, which nerves were affected, how the heart worked in that moment. It would be gruesome but intriguing enough for your readers.
Maybe you needed to write something not so dark, something that didn’t make you take courses you didn’t really need but wanted in hopes that they’ll help you understand better. You didn’t actually need to go this far to describe a couple grueling scenes but it helped.
The room was silent aside from the obnoxious sound of the clock, Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock…Ticking.
You stood at the front of your professor’s desk in his clustered office filled with classical literature books and awards for writing all over the shelves. His desk took up the majority of the space inside and whenever you were in here you couldn’t help but feel just a little suffocated. There were barely any words shared between the two of you, he only ever decided to truly grace you with his speech when he was critiquing and yet right now he’s been uncomfortably silent.
The silence had grown so long that you found your attention drifting toward the grandfather clock that was tucked away near the overwhelming stained glass window that overlooked the courtyard filled with wet and fallen leaves. The trees were bare and the fountain had a sculpture of a big swan with its wings spread in what looked like a dance. It always reminded you of the Swan Song, but you never knew if that was morbid of you. The idea of your University of Fine Arts decorating the campus in the black and white birds simply for decor always seemed strange to you too.
There was no way they would ever portray anything without meaning, or at least something not up for interpretation and yet every time you looked at one of the swans, you thought about the Swan Song, the way the bird’s wings were open beautifully with each detail chiseled into the stone. It looked like the swan’s final performance before its end. It wasn’t the sort of symbolism you liked to see at a school with such dedicated artists looking for a way to perfect every aspect of their work as if each one was their last.
“I like it,” your professor finally said, drawing your attention back to him in an instant, “Your writing has improved Y/n, I’m starting to really visualize the plot and I think it has a certain rawness to it that I’m not used to seeing from you.”
The corner of your lips turned upward like you wanted to smile but you wouldn’t fully allow yourself to. He hasn’t looked at you yet, his eyes stayed glued to your paper and it was clear he wasn’t done, “But it still feels stiff—well, the main character does. I can’t understand him yet, he’s just a mystery to me and not one I’m interested in unraveling. I can’t understand his depth and it’s becoming a big flaw in your writing. Everything else sounds wonderful, well articulated and with such emotion… that when I think of him all I see a huge lack of substance. He’s being drowned out by the rest and he’s supposed to be the one I follow when I read.”
You didn’t say anything as your jaw slowly clenched shut, eyes unwavering as he went on, “It’s like you have a lack of knowledge for human emotion and psychology, I’m not sure that’s something that can be easily fixed.”
“Does it make my writing bad?” You asked stiffly and he shook his head no.
“No, your writing is captivating but there’s a very huge disconnect I’m feeling from your characters,” he said, looking up at you, “It takes away the beauty of it.”
Your lips felt sewn shut as he handed you back your paper with all of his notes for you to fix and you felt like crying. You couldn’t even utter out a single word as you forced yourself not to react to his words and leave his office with your head held high.
What did he mean by disconnect? What more did he want you to do? What did you not understand about human emotion? You’re a human, what is there not to get? What else did he want from you?
These questions circled your head for what felt like an eternity, only confusing you more and more as you left for your next lecture. You spent the fifteen minute gap with your journal out jotting down every question that came to mind trying to see how you could find answers to these.
You sat alone in your row of seats waiting for other students to arrive and you took the time to brainstorm. He told you your characters lacked substance and implied that they were hard to visualize. He said that he can’t understand them, especially the lead and that he couldn’t be absorbed into a story about a character he doesn’t care for. He basically said that you lacked an understanding of emotional depth for the characters you write and therefore your stories will continue to have a disconnect until something changes. If only something could inspire you, maybe help you analyze these so-called emotions you couldn’t comprehend. You needed to remove some of the mystery around your character and really dive in on his arc, understand how he felt. How could you do that? It's not like you could fully visualize it yourself either unless you really began to study those around you more than you already do.
You sat up straighter in your seat and looked around as the lecture hall began to fill slowly. The room had a sort of ancient feel to it with long hazelnut rows of desks pressed side by side against each other in an amphitheater manner. There were diagrams and models of the human body plastered everywhere but none looked straight off of a doctor’s catalog. They looked like Davinci himself drew every skeleton in the room. It also had a small echo especially when the rain hit the wall or glass windows that sometimes tuned out the sound of talking students entering the hall.
You recognized most of the faces and the one who passed you as he went up a few rows seemed to distract you more than the others. Kim Taehyung didn’t wear glasses today but he wore a wool sweater and linen pants. There was a small splotch of gray paint on his knuckle that he hadn't seemed to notice as he swung his book bag onto the desk with a small thud, uncaring if anyone heard and ignored everyone around him.
He was similar to your character, almost. He always seemed closed off and unapproachable but behind his eyes was an aura of emotion that isn’t easily interpreted. You found yourself beginning to scribble down in your journal, just basic things you noted about him.
The lazy, bored look in his eyes that made him look tired and unamused by everything that happened around him.
Then there was his stance. He had good posture but when he sat down in his seat he leaned all the way back with his arms on the table like he was observing every person in the lecture hall, even you.
You knew this because for a second your eyes met with Taehyung’s and in that measly moment you just took in the sight of each other. Taehyung didn’t hold much expression in face but his fingers seemed to twirl his No. 2 pencil a little more intently now. He ran his gaze down from your eyes to the curve of your nose and curl of your lips. There was something about your facial features that he was delighted in studying. When you looked away and gave him a view of your side profile he leaned toward his desk more and the leather sketchbook that rested over his textbook was flipped open as he began to sketch you.
The drawing didn’t mean much to him, it was just a small doodle to pass time, his hands had to always be sketching and you happened to be his distraction today. Usually he doesn’t really pay attention to you when he’s in class, you sit far enough from each other that you never interact and when he catches you in the library you always seem lost in your own world.
He knows your name, he read your story last semester simply because it intrigued him. It was published on the school forum and won an achievement so he checked it out and it was good, your writing is intricate, or at least that’s what he thinks. He’s able to follow along to every word and not be bored or confused but with a certain degree of understanding that the reader needs to learn. There’s an aura of mystery around it, yet it was not something that he couldn’t comprehend and he thinks that’s why he was able to enjoy it.
At the end of the lecture he had three small drawings of you.
“Come on man, it won’t take long, just one drink,” Jungkook begged him for the third time in a row. Despite his friend’s darker exterior dressed in black jeans, a black tee, and a black leather jacket, he was way more outgoing. He was always trying to get Taehyung to go out for drinks or to party but he just doesn’t have the time.
“Not tonight,” Taehyung said as he opened up his pack of cigarettes and took one out, sliding it to his lips before burning the end with his lighter. He handed the pack to Jungkook who took it without question and did the same.
Jungkook released a sigh in disappointment, shaking his head a little as he said, “Whatever man, you say that every night.”
Taehyung shrugged his shoulders as he took a drag and pulled it out between his index finger and thumb, “Then get the hint.”
His friend wasn’t listening anymore, choosing instead to stare at the building in front of him, dimly lit from all the lamp posts. It was just after sunset and the only students around were probably working on assignments like Jungkook and Taehyung. Taehyung took advantage of the art room to work privately and in a bigger space while Jungkook worked in the warehouse where he could work on his new sculpture. Taehyung couldn’t understand why Jungkook cared about whatever was going on at the library till he casually looked over too.
“She looks familiar,” Jungkook said pointing to you as you walked down the sidewalk toward the bus stop. Taehyung looked too, you had a tote bag like most students around here and there was a butterfly clip in your hair but it still looked messy. Your hair was down earlier and at some point you decided to put it up and he realized now that he didn’t have a preference on how hair looks on someone. He likes the style you had earlier and the one you have now too because they enhance your features more.
“That’s Y/n,” Taehyung said casually as they went to the parking lot. Jungkook looked at him curiously before glancing back at you, “You know her?”
Taehyung didn’t have an answer for that so he didn’t give one, he just walked ahead wondering the same thing. “Let’s get a drink,” Taehyung finally gave in and Jungkook immediately cheered. “Yes! Okay, don’t worry, just one.”
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder… that is what every artist has ever been taught. Taehyung has never been able to disagree with a statement more than that one. There is not beauty everywhere, it is not as inclusive as one might think and to truly understand art in the many forms it could take, one needs to understand the meaning of genuine beauty.
It’s quite terrifying in a sense, for one to be able to lose control and fall for the Dionysian seduction and view beauty for what it truly is. It is a raw and exhilarating topic that cannot be defined by just looks or words but more the freedom of life, life is beautiful in its own twisted way and to accept that definition is to be able to portray that in what you do. That’s why Taehyung’s art tends to lean toward a more dark and twisted form. When he creates art he’s not just looking at creating something nice to look at or something with a hidden meaning that no one would ever truly understand. When he creates, he wishes to express human emotion through his work—he wishes to make others feel things they’ve never felt before and that is the beauty he is chasing after.
Beauty is not a person but a feeling and when he looks at you he seems to understand that better.
It’s not just your outward attractiveness that draws him in. It’s the terrifying beauty that you radiate in your gaze, in your mannerisms, in your writing. It intrigues him and if he could put you on a canvas and unravel everything inside you — your fears, your joys, your tears — he would but till then you’re nothing but a familiar stranger that invades his mind when he least expects it.
“Taehyung, your work is beautiful,” his professor said, “Everything you create is effortlessly perfect but…”
He waited with a bated breath, already not liking where this was getting. He watched closely to the way she tilted her head in curiosity, “It’s rather dark, don’t you think? Maybe hard for interpretation an—“
“It’s not made to be interpreted by anything but the way it is,” Taehyung said boldly, “Once art is set for others to create a new meaning for it, is it ever truly art?”
“I guess I am not understanding what you mean,” she said leaning forward against her desk.
Taehyung released a sigh like this conversation with his senior was tedious, “When you look at Picasso’s work, do you think he created it for others to understand? Or was that something that people began to believe? He created art that was unconstraining to himself and his life.”
“Yes but look at Salvador Dali, the entire aspect of surrealism that he used was to unleash the power of imagination and creativity. You can’t just shut your art into a small box for the sake of aesthetic,” she said and that made him scoff, his lip curled in distaste, “And let’s look at Monet? He’s practically what started the entire idea of Impressionism.”
“What it meant to him, how he viewed it at that moment, that was all,” Taehyung said, which made the advisor release a sign, “Claude Monet once said, everyone pretends to understand his art, as if it were necessary to understand when it is only necessary to love.”
“I’m afraid this conversation will go back and forth if we continue,” she said with a huff, already irritated by the way things are going, “The exhibition is in three months, in a month I’ll connect with you on how everything is looking and give you the rundown as well is there anything else you need from me, Mr. Kim?”
Taehyung shook his head and without a goodbye he was getting up from his seat and storming out. Not even a second after the chestnut double doors shut, did he find himself reaching into the pocket of his jeans to get his pack out. The cigarette sat perfectly between his lips as he blocked one side with the hand so the wind didn’t blow his lighter out and he lit the tip, ignoring the ‘No Smoking’ sign just a couple feet away. He couldn’t help but mumble, “Stupid bitch,” under his breath once he finally left the building.
As he rounded the corner, something hit his chest and his free hand immediately the person steady in front of him.
Your hand was on his chest to keep from hitting him and as you looked up, your eyes widened just slightly. Taehyung didn’t say anything as he let you go, brushing against your side and moving around you to leave feeling your eyes on him. You watched him head the way you just came from and finally snapped out of it when you heard your friend call for you.
He turned to look for you seeing you already walking over to some tall and muscular guy. The guy gave you a dimpled smile as he followed after you, no longer in Taehyung’s peripheral.
“Maybe he has a point, Y/n,” Namjoon said as he walked with you to the bus stop, “If you’re struggling then maybe you should think about altering the character more.”
You shook your head in displeasure, “No, I’m not going to change him, I just need to be able to visualize his characteristics.”
Namjoon released a sigh as he pondered over what advice to give you, but came up blank, “I mean… maybe you just need some real inspiration from those around you. ”
The both of you went silent trying to find a solution and you looked up at him curiously. Namjoon would be an amazing reference for a character but he doesn’t fit the image you want him to. He was like light, he was kind hearted and charming and so unbelievably smart but that’s not how you envisioned the main character in your story. The kind of character you had in mind was supposed to act similar to… well, Taehyung. He’s supposed to be a bit mysterious, cold, not necessarily a likable character but someone they can’t help but be curious about.
“Namjoon,” you called his name and for a moment he grew hopeful to the idea that maybe you were thinking of studying him the way you do with others—even if he knew that would never happen. Instead, you came to a stop and looked up at him, “I forgot my laptop in the ffice, I’ve gotta go get it.”
His brows furrowed, looking down at your tote bag, “I’ll come wit—“
“No, you have to work, right?” You asked, already backing away from him, “I don’t want to make you late, I’ll just catch the next bus.”
Before he could argue, you were already taking off in a hurry back down the way the two of you came from. With a sigh he watched you leave wondering why he always seemed to be a couple steps behind you and never beside you. All he’s done since he met you was follow your lead in friendship and outside of it.
Even when the two of you had sex months ago it was always when you wanted and never when he did. If he even thought to ask, all you did was blow him off and then question him on if he’s seeing anyone at the moment. In the same second you would press your lips to his cheek and remind him how much you adored him even when you blew him off he always found the act of it a bit poetic.
He loved you, but it’s a love unreturned and if he wants to stay by you, it has to be with him at the back of your mind and never at the forefront.
With that understanding, he had no choice but to let you go back toward campus walking across fallen leaves and dead branches while he went to the bus alone.
Your legs had taken off before you could even decide where to go and in the end you found yourself heading back the way in which you met with Namjoon—and also the way you bumped into Taehyung. You were never much of the shy type even if it appeared that way, your friends always said you were the selective type—only choosing who to be outgoing with and even then it was rare and required a lot of work to get to you.
They had it easy, Jimin was a childhood friend and Namjoon was in the same writing department as you but that’s as far as your circle went. Well, no, there’s Yoongi too but he’s a pianist and these days he’s so busy with lessons and trips to the orchestra, you barely see him.
Like stated, you were selectively social and right now, you were choosing to find Taehyung so you could formally talk to him. It took you about ten minutes of mindlessly walking through the courtyard to locate him and when you did, you came to a halt. He was just a few feet away now, cigarette between his lips, crouched down against the wall of some historic looking building with castle-like elements and you know he saw you coming when he turned his head and looked right at you.
That was the push that had you walking toward him and saying, “Kim Taehyung?”
“Yes?” He asked, looking you up and down, eyes unable to help themselves as he looked up from your legs to your face. You wore a black fitted turtleneck underneath a brown sweater vest tucked into a black skirt. You wore long 70s style brown boots and mesh tights too. Your hair was pinned back with a hair clip and pins and your ears were lined with simple yet pretty earrings. When his gaze finally met yours, he couldn’t help but take in the sight of you once more.
“My name is—“
“I know your name,” he said with a small glint in his eye, “Obviously.”
You didn’t pull away from his intense stare and watched him bring the cigarette back to his lips, “I thought it would be more appropriate to introduce myself.”
“Mm,” he exhaled looking down at the cement below his feet, flicking the end of the cigarette to let ash fall, “So what could I do for you, Y/n?”
He looked up once more and you bit your lip in thought, “If you are free, I wanted to see if you’d like to get a coffee with me.”
“I don’t like coffee,” he said, finally putting the thing out and standing up, “And it’s almost sunset.”
You blinked in surprise as he stood in front of you now but you didn’t back away, “Then we’ll just have dinner.”
“Thanks,” Taehyung swung his bag over his shoulder, “But I’m kind of busy, I’ve got somewhere to get to.”
He was already walking away to hide his look of surprise. He didn’t expect the two of you to ever really talk and he didn’t really know what to do. He ended up rejecting before he could even truly think it over. He imagined you as just a fantasy — nothing he could ever explore but that he could dream about. He just wanted to look and think about you but never know anything beyond what was on the surface—like a painting.
“And you can’t have a plus one?” You asked in your final effort to get closer to him completely unaware of what he thought of you. You watched him come to a stop, and for a moment you tried to imagine him contemplating. Taehyung turned to face you, “I’m not going anywhere fun.”
You stayed quiet as he went on, “And some might find it scary.”
It seemed like he was trying to warn you as if to let you back out of your own proposal but he wasn’t saying no and that was hopeful. You tilted your chin higher, “As long as you don’t plan on murdering me, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
That made the corners of his lips turn upward in an arrogant smirk, “Okay, Y/n, follow me.”
The walk wasn’t too far from the college but the college was already a bit on the outskirts of the city. All you saw were green, dying hills as autumn threatened to take over and it took you a second to understand where he was taking you until he was leading the way down a steep hill toward an empty and cold graveyard. It was a straight line of jagged tombstones and overgrown plant life entwined around them. There were clear dirt paths leading down row after row of old graves and a few Angel statues but nothing too bad, at least that’s what you’re telling yourself.
“I told you, you might be scared,” Taehyung said as he walked parallel to the graveyard toward a tree that stood tall along the sloping hill, “But this is the best view of twilight, if you want, I could walk you back to campus.”
“No, it’s fine,” you cleared your throat deciding to walk ahead of him so you could be the one sitting upright against the tree. Taehyung dropped his backpack a few feet away from you and began getting his things out.
You didn’t question him, only observed the way he carried on like you weren’t even there. It’s not like you minded, you didn’t have any real agenda to get him to spend time with you and frankly, you felt a bit relieved to see that he wasn’t trying to figure out what you wanted. It was unspoken the way the two of you seemed to think similarly and brought out your tools.
Taehyung didn’t say anything when he flipped his sketchbook open and found a charcoal he could use as he began to sketch without much thought into it. He even made himself comfortable by lying back, using the angle of the hill to help him not lay horizontally and he bent a knee up as a sort of flat surface he could rest his book on. There was a small breeze that carried through his linen shirt and brown trousers but he wasn’t much worried about himself.
He was more worried about you, who had asked to spend time with him but had no real plan to do so. He’ll admit, when he said no it was just on reflex from all the other times he’s out right rejected others before but he only thought it over because he’s been curious of you two. When you told him you would join him for a moment he debated saying no again because this was his favorite place to be to watch the sunset but it wasn’t all that normal. He even tried to warn you and offer to take you back when you saw the graveyard but you didn’t even seem to care when you sat down. Now that he’s looking at you up close, he can see the way your brows furrowed in concentration as you scribbled in your journal, already feeling inspiration.
It’s now that Taehyung is realizing why he’s been so curious. He finds you beautiful, he’s sure he’s mentioned that before, but he finds you beautiful in an unsettling way. Just looking at you seemed to send him into a wave of emotion like you’re exactly what he’s wished to create on canvas. Before he even knew what he was doing, his hands were working away to make another sketch, eyes on you as he worked.
“What are you writing in that little journal of yours?” He found himself asking after some time. The sketch was rough and yet it was so refined that there was no mistaking what it could be. It was a monochromatic sketch of you with your back against the tree, legs straight before you and your hair covering your face with the howl of the wind. Your hands looked delicate when you wrote and you looked so lost in your own work that managed to capture that same essence in his drawing.
When you first looked at him, your eyes went down to the pack of cigarettes he was now messing with and out of curiosity he raised it to you as if asking if you wanted one. Moving to sit forward, you took one and held it between your lips as he dug into his pocket for his zippo lighter, flipping it open and bringing it toward your face to light the cigarette. He watched curiously as you leaned back a little, took an inhale/exhale, and said, “I’ll tell you if you show me what you’ve been doing in that little sketchbook of yours.”
For some reason a small smile came to his face as he laid on his side using his elbow for support and reached over to hand you the sketchbook. You took it with a sense of excitement that quickly turned into disbelief as you looked at it. The back of your index finger hovered over it but never touched for fear that you would smudge it or worse—ash, and when you finally handed it back to him, wordlessly, his cold fingers brushing against sending a warm current down your arm.
At this exchange, Taehyung moved to sit up, not bothering to brush off any loose grass blades off his linen shirt and read over a short passage.
A certain coolness in his gaze that made him appear cruel.
A charming aura that seemed timeless, not modern but ancient like he was created from every classic literature known to man.
His gaze, his smile, his voice—all deep like red velvet.
The list went on, each short sentence followed by another in what one could assume was meant to describe him. He didn’t say anything either as he handed it back to you the same way you had done with his sketchbook. Neither of you were looking for critique or praise, more so acknowledgement of what the other had been doing and once you had it, it was enough.
Taehyung stared forward as the line of bright Orange finally vanished from the sky and a cool blue clouded it. The atmosphere shifted now as darkness began to swim across the sky and you both knew it was time to go. Nothing was said as you both stood up with your things and even less was brought up on your walk back to campus.
It wasn’t until you stood at the bus stop that Taehyung decided to ask, “Are you busy tomorrow?”
“No.”
He pulled out a piece of paper from the pocket in his trousers followed by a pen as he scribbled something down before handing it to you, “Meet me here at 8:00pm.”
You didn’t have to say anything for Taehyung to know you would show and he left without much of a goodbye.
The place you arrived to at 8:00pm on the dot wasn’t exactly what you had in mind but it wasn’t much of a surprise either—it was a warm record bar. The one thing that did seem to surprise you was Taehyung’s choice in music where he preferred jazz over classical. The bar was dimly lit only by shaded, vintage lamps and the small yellow candles near all the booze. The walls were lined with vinyls and the deep mahogany trimming gave the record bar a sort of dark academic charm to it.
When you found Taehyung he was sitting at a small round table fit for two and he had a book in hand—The Picture of Dorian Gray. He wore his usual metal wiring rounded glasses and his dirty blonde hair seemed quite soft and full of life. The dark brown sweater he wore matched well with his tan slacks and you didn’t miss the way eyes would fall on him. It was this charming, educated college boy with a rich father sort of energy that radiates off him, but also the clear look of disinterest written all over his face and it made people curious.
You debated calling his name to let him know you were here but when he looked up in time to catch you walking his way, you were aware that he had been waiting for you and checking the door every couple seconds. Taehyung didn’t shy away from taking in the sight of you in an olive green maxi dress paired with a thin white cardigan tied together at the top of your breasts and below your collarbone. You wore black boot heels this time and when you sat down in front of him he couldn’t help but look at your face now.
“You’re late,” he said as he closed his book and set it to the side. You didn’t even bother to look at the Swiss watch on your wrist as you said, “It’s 8:00, like you said.”
“Yes but what I meant was 7:55 which should have translated to 7:45,” he said annoyingly arrogant as he slid a menu toward you, “As per the rules of a first date.”
His tone was serious as was his body language and yet you could see the hint of amusement in his attempt to hide a smile. You smiled softly, setting your bag down next to you, “I was unaware this was a first date.”
“So you assumed this was the second?” Taehyung had a teasing tone now, “I, personally, would not call an evening together at the cemetery a first date.”
“I do say, I’m a bit surprised to even know you consider this a date after we barely talked at all yesterday,” you said as a waitress came over with a customer service smile. Conversation floated between you two with ease.
“Are we ready to order?”
Taehyung looked at you but you weren’t all that hungry so he ordered a single slice of pastry for the two of you to share, “Yesterday was just to enjoy and accept the presence of one another, tonight is to communicate and learn.”
Taehyung never cared much for investing time into someone he was with, usually if he ever showed any interest in someone or was short lived. He’s not sure what would happen exactly but once the excitement of pining for someone romantically wore off… he just did not care anymore. There was too much to handle and he didn’t have time for any of it—not the clinginess, the crying, the whining. God, the whining got to him.
Why do you ignore me so much?
You’re always too busy painting to notice me?
Taehyung, I just want you to spend time with me.
It was the constant whining that he hated because they just did not get that he was completely devoted to his art and nothing else mattered as much as it did. Yes… maybe the small ounce of excitement he felt helped inspire him but… well he does not need whoever he slept with anymore.
The infatuation had worn off and he’s back to being alone again but now he’s a little too curious about you. Hence, why he asked you out first and in such a haste.
“Alright,” you said, “So then tell me something small, for instance, what time did you arrive? 7:45?”
“7:30 actually,” Taehyung said as he lifted his mug of hot tea to his lips, “I had business to take care of around campus and I didn’t want to make the trip back home.”
“Well if you asked for my number I would’ve arrived sooner.”
“It takes away the romantic aspect of waiting for the other to arrive without hearing from them—maybe I’ll write you a letter instead,” he teased. You just laughed softly and asked, “I didn’t peg you as much of a romantic. And what business?”
“Nothing too important.” Taehyung said vaguely and despite your curiosity you didn’t push him to answer. The corner of his lips raised as he looked at you, looked at him and found himself saying, “But as for being a romantic? It depends on who you ask.”
You focused on what he said about that instead of what his business was and that made him happy. What he did was not that important but it was necessary after what had happened with his advisor. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around what she had told him and in the end he made and impulsive decision to gift her something that might make her see things from his point of view. Of course it was slightly biased but he believed his piece really explained his views on beauty enough for her to understand.
Taehyung delivered two paintings to her inbox earlier. The first one was a more finished painting of you, still slightly distorted and a bit dark but there was no hiding the romantic element that radiated off of it. He called it ‘Genuine Beauty’. The second painting was a distorted and bright picture of his professor with exaggerated features that weren’t pleasing to the eye and he called it, ‘Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder’.
A true sentient on what he thought of her words. He wanted to know how she would twist the grotesque image of herself into something beautiful.
“What have you been up to aside from writing me?” Taehyung asked, looking at you with interest.
“Aside from that, I’m afraid not much else,” you confessed, “I’ve been in a sort of dry spell trying to understand my character.”
“Tell me about them.”
“Well, it’s a him and he’s similar to you.”
He listened closely to each word you said, taking in the curve of your mouth when you talked and the way you gestured with your hands. He’ll admit, the character did seem very similar to him so he can understand your curiosity in him and the fact that you seemed to lose yourself in your craft didn’t go unnoticed by him. He simply nodded his head and replied with short answers when asked.
In the end, he offered the only thing he could, “Let me be your case of study then, and in return you’ll be mine.”
You smiled this time, a small arrogant smile as you said, “Will you paint me like one of your French girls?”
He understood the reference and found himself saying, “If you write me like one of the lovers in your poems.”
By the end of the night you found yourself in the back of a taxi driving straight to his place under the pretense of another drink. Conversation seemed to flow with ease between you and it ranged from Davinci to Monet, Shakespeare to Milton and whatever was in between. Even when Taehyung asked such a heavy question, you didn’t seem to struggle to find an answer.
“Do you believe in love?” He had asked as the cab stopped in front of a house similar to an upstate New York townhome. He had you by the hand helping you out of the car and held onto you as he led you up the stone path.
“I have to, I’m a writer,” you told him and he seemed to pull you into him more.
“But what is it that you believe it to be?”
The question did make you think a little bit. It’s not that you thought Taehyung had an ulterior motive in asking you such a thing; it’s not like the two of you were seriously into the idea of it but you wanted to give him the right answer—one that truly described you and your ideals.
You didn’t answer his question right away as he let you into his home which was no different than what you imagined it to be. His apartment was in an old building turned into luxury Victorian styled apartments with modern eclectic touches. It was a put-together mess of sketches and canvases littered around the place. The floor was made of a dark, polished hardwood and his furniture all seemed worn through with velvet cushions and engraved wooden trimmings. He had floor-to-ceiling bay windows with twine hanging across them and papers clipped on with laundry pins to dry. There was a warm feel to the place and it had everything to do with his dedication to earthy tones and shades of Morocco red.
There were painting supplies everywhere from scattered charcoals and cans of linseed oil for his paints. There were stacks of literature books and various art ones piled high on nearly every surface and yet it all seemed to be organized to what you could assume only he could understand. Taehyung didn’t even seem to mind the clutter as he chose instead to ask, “Red or White?”
“Red.” You responded quite simply before resuming your studying of his place, the fireplace on one wall was surrounded by canvases and books—same as the vintage bookshelf and for a moment you wondered if his bedroom looked any similar. The thought vanished quickly when you got the smallest hint of which room that might be from the open door down the hall. He had plain gray sheets on an unmade bed and the furniture in there was scarce, like he barely spent any time there and if he did it wasn’t to sleep—the bags under his eyes told you so.
“Have you thought of an answer to my question yet?” Taehyung asked, reminding you yet again of what he asked earlier. He handed you a wine glass and you took it with a nod in gratitude as he left you to find a record to play.
“I’ve had an answer all along, I just wasn’t sure how you would feel about it,” you said and you could see him smile as he moved the needle over the start of the vinyl, Nocturnes, Op 9 began to play.
“I’m not looking for anything in particular, just an insight on what you think,” he said honestly and with a small sigh you decided to tell him.
“I think love is more so… a choice than an emotion?” You finally said as you watched him take a seat on the floor near his coffee table instead of the velvet couch behind him. He motioned for you to join him, “How so?”
“Anyone can feel love at any given moment but it is fleeting,” you sat down, knees nearly touching his, “Tell me, have you ever felt in love before?”
Your question seemed to catch him off guard yet he answered as bluntly as he would regarding anything else, “Only with my paintings.”
“And that had been a choice, to continue, right?” You asked, “Love like every emotion is temporary and inconsistent. Yes, doing certain things or being with certain people might invoke these feelings but once that has dwindled it is your choice to remain in that constant state of loving something—or someone. I love writing, I always have because it is my choice. I choose to subject myself to the hardships that come with my work even at times where I think I hate it. Even at times when I choose to give up I think about the joy it brings me, the emotions that pour out of me and onto every letter and word I put down on paper. I choose to love writing, I choose to devote myself to it and I choose to put it above anything else in the world, even my own relationships.”
Taehyung could see it in your eyes how strongly you felt about it. Your answer had gone slightly off topic but he understood your reference to it in every word you spew, “So when I say I believe in love… I don’t mean it in regards to a feeling that transpires throughout inconsistently, but I mean it as a choice to continue to feel that way even when it hurts and I can’t take it any more.”
A silence seemed to drag on between you and for a moment you wondered if you said too much and sounded too stupid. Taehyung seemed to inhale and exhale at once, “Well, I do say, we have very similar ideals. I don’t think I could’ve put it into better words than a writer even if I tried.”
You couldn’t help but smile, hiding it behind your wine glass, “Maybe you’ll paint them instead.”
“Maybe, I’ll paint you instead,” Taehyung said with a pale yet serene expression like he was scared to speak his words and exhilarated by them all the same.
How could someone seem to get lost and sound so dazed when talking about writing? Did writing mean as much to you as his art did to him? Is that why there was never a need for many words to be spoken between you? Was that why he was able to enjoy your presence so long and so quickly when before you would never even speak? Was there always this underlying connection between your minds and how you viewed art and your world?
You rested your glass on the table as you took in his living room again and all its character, there was a set of paintbrushes just laying on his table and you reached for one. The wood was smooth between your fingertips as you twisted it before looking up at him with a curious gaze, “With one of these?”
Taehyung simply nodded his head watching you lift your skirt up just enough to expose a bit of leg and you brushed the art tool against your calf, “It’s soft.”
His tongue ran over his lips and he leaned forward to gently take the brush back. You were nearing an apology for taking it without asking him first but he simply scooted closer to you on the blanket he laid beneath you and placed your legs over his, skirt of your dress rising even further until he was running the brush over the curve of your knee, “I use it to blend shadows, like this.”
The brush felt soft against your skin, sending tingles down your spine as he ran it over you in circular motions, eyes on yours.
“I tried painting once,” you said as his finger slowly traded with the brush until he was softly touching you, “I wasn’t that good, I couldn’t portray the right picture.”
Taehyung just smiled as he felt you hand go over his while taking the brush back until you were tracing the curve of his wrist, “Paint with your words, and show me you’d write me, like your character.”
“He is very similar to you,” you said, “In almost every aspect and I didn’t realize that until today.”
“Mm,” Taehyung hummed in content when you lifted the brush toward the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, teasing him without realizing it. You seemed to use the brush against him without much thought of what you were doing and how it affected him. You should know, though, that the feel of his art tool against his skin would feel good to him. The soft bristles tickled his collarbone, “How would he make love?”
That seemed to catch you by surprise as you slowed your touch to look up at him. He just bit his lip, hand on your leg caressing it as he waited for your response. Without missing a beat, you said, “Slowly, starting with a sweet kiss.”
A small smirk came to his face, one that only he could pull off without looking cocky. He looked smart and pretty with his glasses and blonde hair, when he spoke he made it sound poetic and when he looked at you it felt like he was focused on whatever was beneath the surface. You watched him push his glasses up the slope of his nose and before you knew it, he was leaning closer, lithe fingers coming up to touch your chin and tilt your jaw.
Although you knew what was coming, there was no denying the small second of hesitation that coursed through you when his lips so tenderly pressed against yours, his voice low as he asked, “Like this?”
You licked your lips despite the extremely small space between yours and his and without the ounce of hesitation from earlier, your hand came up to his neck where you pulled him into you for a real kiss. It started off slowly just like the two of you knew it would but there was no denying the desire that laced throughout it. At first all that happened was your mouths moving against each other, getting used to the idea of kissing — something neither of you have done in a while. Then, it became more feverish. If possible, you seemed to move closer with your hand on his thigh to support yourself. You were on your knees leaning into him and he had a single hand against the floor to support his sitting position while the other was cupping your chin for the best angle. There was a growing intensity between your mouths, lips moving more forcefully now, saliva gradually increasing when you felt his tongue make a swiping motion against your lips.
“Or like this?” His voice had become more hoarse with need. He enjoyed feeling the way your body seemed to lean toward his and he seemed to ask, “What would he do next?”
“It’s not what he would do next,” you said as you moved without your own violation and trailed your lips along the curve of his jaw, “But what would happen to him next.”
Taehyung’s head seemed to tip back as he used both of his hands to keep him upright while you moved between his patted legs to kiss down his neck. He licked at his lips, slowly blinking at the first feel of your tongue licking his ear lobe before you sucked it into your mouth making a tingle run down his spine. Your warm breath tickling his ear made his breath bitch and it didn’t take you long to realize that you had found his weak spot. Unable to help yourself you brought your mouth back to his for a kiss that was much needier than any of the ones prior.
“Y/n,” Taehyung’s throat was dry and it made his voice raspier than usual, “Touch me more.”
The words surprised you. You didn’t take him for much of a womanizer but you didn’t think he would seem this touch starved. The last person you had slept with had been your dear friend, Namjoon, and when you realized feelings were beg bring to get involved you were to end the rendezvous that had transpired between you two in an effort to save the friendship and his feelings. You couldn’t explain why you could never see him as more than a friend—and you couldn’t explain why it was so easy to view Taehyung as something more. Your mind had been drawn to him before your body and yet it all felt the same.
You began to crawl away from him and in an effort to keep this going, he went after you with another kiss before your hand touched his chest to keep him in place. It got to the point where Taehyung wasn’t sure if it was the cashmere brown sweater he wore that made his body heat up, or if it was being too close to the fireplace but he felt himself begin to break into a sweat.
He stretched his legs out before him when he got the hint of what you wanted to do watching you shimmy down until you were nearly eye level with his pants and the evident bulge becoming more prominent with each passing second. Taehyung was not ashamed of how quickly you seemed to get to him and his body’s reaction to you. Sex was a normal thing, it was poetic and passionate if done with the right person and he hasn’t done it in a while—a long while. It was completely normal for him to release a light gasp when your hand grazed his inner thigh just inching toward his growing erection.
The two of you made eye contact once more, his lip caught between his teeth and his eyelids low in a lustful gaze that matched your own. There was a strong attraction toward each other — infatuation if you will — and you can’t say there’s romantic feelings between you but there’s no denying that there has been the underlying sexual tension that rose from a clear understanding of each other’s devotion to your work. It turns you on to know he seems to connect with your ideals.
You didn’t even realize Taehyung had moved a hand behind you until he was pulling on the back of your head to drag you back into a needy kiss. Your hands had already gone toward his slacks and you had been unzipping the front as the two of you made out once more. Taehyung’s hand fell back to the ground with a groan as you yanked at his underwear making him lift his hips enough for them to come down with his pants. A small hissing sound left his lips as his hard dick finally made its appearance, springing free of its right confines, hard enough to already angle toward his navel.
Taehyung was not ashamed by the way his stomach caved in with a deep breath at the first feel of your hand wrapping around his tip spreading the beads of precum that had already dribbled out the slit. His tongue was in your mouth, sliding against yours with you swallowing each groan he let out when you began to stroke his length slowly from base to tip. Like earlier, when you tried pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath, he was following after you to stop you from breaking apart from him.
A thin line of drool connected your mouth to his as you finally pulled back, biting down on your lip. He watched you look down at his exposed member, leaning down until you were face to face with it. His long fingers curled around your hair, slowly pushing your head down just a middle until he felt the first tender lick of your tongue along his tip. Taehyung’s entire body reacted to the way you tentatively licked his head teasingly making a small shudder travel right through him.
You have to say, Taehyung has one of the prettiest dicks you’ve ever seen and you just couldn’t help but want to savor it. It was just so pretty and you found yourself wanting to play with it some more. Your hand held onto him at his base as you ran your tongue down the side of his length lathering it in drool to aid your closed fist.
His brows scrunched together as he attempted to watch what you were doing. He could feel your hand jerking him off as you teasingly kissed up his side and tip, tongue swirling around his slit that leaked precum. He just couldn’t see you over the bulk of his sweater.
With an annoyed huffed, he released your hair to pull at his sweater with one arm as he brought it up toward his chest and tucked it under his jaw. Just as he had it fixed, a low and deep sound vibrating in his chest feeling your lips finally surround his tip, sucking gently before relaxing and taking more of him inside. You made yourself relax so you could loosen your jaw enough to accommodate his length as you began to suck him off, tongue licking along the bottom side everytime you bobbed your head up and down.
You had a firm hand on his upper thigh as the other was at his base against his pelvic bone to hold his hips down and let your mouth do all the work. His sweater slipped from under his chin making him groan as he threw his head back, “So good.”
He kept his gaze on the ceiling taking in the feel of your warm and tight mouth taking his cock so deeply. You looked up at his stomach trying to see his face but with the way his head was tilted back, you just couldn’t. All you could see was his chest rise and lower with each breathy sigh he let out, ducking his cock deeper down your throat.
Unable to help yourself, you moved your hand to his navel, feeling his breathing better and he needed to see what you looked like with his dick in your mouth.
He held the end of his sweater between his teeth as he stared down the expanse of his torso to where you laid between his legs swallowing around his cock with a dark look in your eyes that had him muffling a moan.
His hips bucked helplessly into you making you swallow more and more of his length till you couldn’t breathe properly anymore and needed to get off. The hand you still had on his dick began to stroke him, wrist flicking on each upward stroke to make your palm run along his slit while you caught your breath. You watched him in complete awe, he was so hard and his balls tightened against that you couldn’t help but lick between them.
"Fuck," the sweater made it hard to hear him as hw sank his teeth into it feeling it begin to moisten annoyingly so bur he was not going to miss the sight of you kissing below his cock to his balls.
When you finally decided to take him back in your mouth there was no slow build up, it was quick and sudden as you took him down your throat to the point where you gagged around him. The way he bit into the sweater looked like a restraint and he looked so pretty with the fire reflecting off his tan, bare chest and his blonde hair was just a knotted mess from how often he shook it.
“Y/n, you feel so good,” You were never much of a talker during sex, especially if it wasn’t genuine and just superficial dirty talk but he sounded so good moaning your name even if you couldn’t hear him properly.
There wasn’t much warning aside from the incessant moaning that fell from his lips and was swallowed in cashmere for you to know he was close. His hips bucked messily into your mouth, cock twitching with the need to just let go and when you met your mouth with your fist jerking off the rest of him… he just couldn’t take anymore.
Taehyung’s head fell back with a dry moan as the urge to cum got the best of him and he let go in your mouth. You didn’t seem to mind either, once the surprise of the suddenness had worn off, you didn’t hesitate but to try and swallow as much of the thick semen as you could, not at all bothered by the taste of it. Taehyung had to let his sweater go to breathe heavily through his parted lips as he used his elbows to sit himself up in the blanket, trying to understand what had just happened.
“Mm,” you hummed, proud of yourself for making him cum down your throat and you sat up to look at him. Taehyung met your eyes with his feeling heavy with need as he licked his dry lips before forcing himself to sit up properly so he could drag you into a deep kiss. You released a light mewl in surprise, kissing him back eagerly with his hand below your ear on your neck guiding you to angle your head one way while he went the other.
There was not a single part of him that felt bothered at the taste of himself on your tongue, if anything it only made him want you more so he could repay you for treating him so well. Once you had gotten lost in your little makeout, it was easy for you to follow his lead as he moved over you to get you to lie down in his place. The only time he pulled away from you was to finally free himself from the confines of his stupid sweaters and kick off his pants the rest of the way. It didn’t take you long to get what he wanted and you hurried to remove your cardigan feeling the straps of your dress begin to slip off your shoulders. Taehyung dragged you to him, kissing along the exposed skin of your collarbone and shoulder, hands sliding down your back till they could inch the dress down and off of you, making you take it off through the bottom so he wouldn’t have to pull away again.
Your bra and underwear were made of a thin crème colored lace that looked pretty against your complexion and soft between his fingertips as he ran his hands over your covered breasts that had been taunting him all night.
A quiet gasp left your lips due to the way his lips kissed down the valley of your breaths, soft hair tickling your neck. Taehyung’s hands held onto your sides, sliding them up to the end of your bra, feeling you arch your back into his affections until he was able to move them under your to grab at the clasp. Once he was able to unhook it, he tugged it off your arms letting you throw it to the side and dragged him into another kiss when he cupped your bare tits in his warm hands, using his thumbs to rub over your hardening nipples.
“Taehyung,” you whined softly against him, eyes on the ceiling when he began to leave love bites along your neck, traveling his wet mouth lower and lower down your stomach.
“Hm,” he hummed in acknowledgement, making his way between your legs while his hands groped your chest loving the softness of your skin under his rough painter’s hands.
As Taehyung slipped further between your legs till his face was near your spread legs, he looked down. The lace underwear was transparent enough for him to see just a bit underneath and he could see a small shadow of slick over where your cunt should be. He tried to look up at you through his blonde fringe and you sat forward enough to brush it back, smiling as he pressed a teasing kiss against the hood of your clit over your underwear. You lied back down letting yourself relax feeling his fingers hook under the hem of your panties till he was tugging it off and move your thighs over his shoulders so he four fit snugly against you.
Taehyung didn’t waste time teasing you, he had already been so turned on that not even cumming down your throat was able to calm his raging hormones. He just wanted to have you as soon as he could, any way he could, and that meant with his tongue stiffening as he parted your folds around him before licking flatly toward your clit. A light moan left your lips as your clit immediately reacted to stimulation, a small gush of slick pushing out of your pussy with arousal. Taehyung was not inexperienced in the art of making someone cum undone on his to hue and that was becoming more and more evident with the way he made out with your cunt like it was your mouth.
“Oh my god,” you threw your head back, out of breath, as his tongue began to flick messily at your clit while hands slid further down your inner thighs until he was using his thumbs to pull your folds apart for him. You could feel your wetness begin to drip further down but he was quick to leave your clit and lap his tongue against your wet entrance where your arousal seemed to form a puddle at. With the way his thumbs kept you open, you felt everything.
Every now and then his thumb would teasingly push in just a little more than before, acting like he didn’t even notice he was doing it while he hungrily sucked on your clit, tugging it between his lips. His thumb was rubbing against your labia, pressing into it, teasing your entrance every now and then by pushing into it until he felt your legs begin to tremble around him. Unable to help himself, he got a big more rough, tonguing your clit with such effort that his head shook with eagerness, swallowing your slick and pressing his face into your cunt to taste all that you had to offer.
“Oh,” you breathed out shakily, hand sinking into his hair when he nosed at your clit, tongue joining his finger as he thrusted it into you, “I-I, oh god.”
“Mhm,” Taehyung nodded, urging you to let go of him and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning. Your thighs tried shutting but his head didn’t let you and instead you pressed them against him making him groan with need, eyes nearly rolling as he doubled his efforts.
Your throat became dry as you planted heavily, hips bucking against his mouth until finally you felt the knot in your stomach come undone. His motions did not miss a beat in licking everything you had to offer as your orgasm came in a wave.
“S-so, good,” you breathed out tiredly feeling your pussy walls clenching around nothing and as much as you wanted to just be done, you needed him inside you. When he came up to kiss you, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him flush against you so his hard cock rutted against your wet pussy. The taste of each other on your tongues was what made it easy for you two to want to keep going without the thought of repercussions. His hand slid between your sweaty bodies to hold his cock, lining it up with your entrance, bumping into your clue as he refused to break away from the kiss.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as the two of you looked at each other with such need, such want that your lips didn’t spend too long apart from each other.
Your tongue met his just as his cock met the inside of your pussy, taking it slowly as he stroked himself with your slick to ease himself in better. His dick was rock hard, and your pussy was so fucking wet he couldn’t help but moan into your mouth as you took him in.
Taehyung has to hold onto you with a hand on your waist to keep you from sliding away from him too much as the blanket wrinkles on his wooden floor. He had his other tucked by the side of your head looking down at you lovingly as he finally began to thrust, “Tell me if it’s too much, love.”
“Mhm,” you said softly, legs falling apart even more to accommodate his as he dug his knees into the floor so he use his hips to fuck you better. A groan left his lips at the expert roll of your pelvis against his taking more and more of his length inside your tight walls.
“You make me feel so full,” you moaned gently into his ear as he dropped his head down against your neck to try and ignore the fact that your pussy around his dick without any protective layer between them felt so fucking good. You were already so close and he’s barely started. He fucked you slowly but firmly, getting himself used to being inside you and sucking on your neck, his hand left your hip to cup your breast once more and you gasped when he pinched your nipple.
“So tight,” Taehyung breathed out heavily with a single touch thrust that had your walls tightening around him, “So good for me.”
He did it again, and once again drew another moan out of you, repeating his thrusts more roughly than before until you were moaning out a string of his name.
Taehyung was well endowed and you never doubted that for even a second. He knew how to have sex, not just to fuck, but to have sex. It wasn’t just loud groans and rough thrusts. He was sensual, he kissed your neck, whispered sweet words of praise in your ear, touch your body as he fucked you almost passionately—unlike the usual guys you hook up with.
“It’s like you were made for me,” Taehyung groaned, brows scrunched together in concentration as he pulled back to sit and swing your right leg over him to press against your left until you were nearly lying on your side. He laid down next to you, curving his body against yours and lifting your leg back and held it up with his knee as he fucked you from the side. His lips were against your ear, whispering, “Just for me, like my own creation.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, “Just for you, please Taehyung, I’m so close.”
You looked straight out of a vintage erotica film. His apartment was warm due to the fireplace and comforting because of the classical music playing. The moon looked over you as you had sex, nearly love making, lying on your sides with his body cuddled into yours, fucking you with his cock while groping your breasts in his hands. You had to angle your head back and then your neck to kiss him and he swallowed your mouth with his, thrusts getting tougher as he curled around you, “Me too, love, all for you.”
“So paint me,” you moaned, fucking back against him.
For a moment he wondered if you meant on a canvas, or with his cock in your pussy, but he realized he would gladly do both if you let him. Your hand slid back to guide his hips into yours, “Cum, Taehyung, inside me, please.”
“Oh god,” a low growl left his lips as he dug his face into your hair, “Fuck, Y/n, d-don’t tempt me.”
“Do it,” your hand came up to his hair now, dragging his head toward yours until your lips met in a messy kiss, “I’m going to cum, Tae, please.”
It wasn’t a good idea. You were on the pill but he didn’t know that, all he knew was that he wasn’t wearing a condom and he wanted to fill you with so much cum that he painted you white.
“Mhm,” he moaned when you tugged on his bottom lip between your teeth and his hand pinched your hips, “Cum, Y/n, please—oh fuck.”
The only thing that came from you two was the sound of skin slapping as the urge to cum overtook you both and you were fucking like rabbits in heat. Nothing but animalistic grunts left him as he finally felt the flood of release you let go around with him with a whine of his name and before he knew it, he was cumming.
You immediately felt full with his release as it joined yours, cock pulsing inside you as he waited a moment to reel his emotions back in, sweaty forehead pressed against yours, “So good.” He hugged you closely, breathing heavily into your neck, softly kissing your skin affectionately.
It took you both some time to regain awareness of what had just happened and you lied on the fur blanket he had tossed on the floor. The fire sizzled behind you and some classical song [you were ashamed to admit you didn’t know] was playing. Taehyung seemed to be more in control of himself now and reached up to his small table in search of his pack. Once he had a cigarette between his lips, he lay back down next to you to catch his breath, pressing it to yours next.
There was a sort of glow to your skin, your eyes shined with the night sky reflecting through the windows. Light came from the fire not far behind and a small dim lamp in the corner yet the moon was still casted over you two.
His eyes traced your features once more and before he knew it, he was saying something unexpected, “She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.”
Despite the way your heart seemed to stop, your brows furrowed, “What?”
Taehyung took another drag of his cigarette, “Who wrote that? ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen’ I read it somewhere… ‘With stars in her eyes’.”
Your eyes seemed to widen as you thought it over for a second. A sense of realization flooded you but even knowing you might be right, you still shyly asked, “Virgina Woolf?”
“Yes, I believe so, ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, with stars in her eyes and veils in her hair.’ I read it years ago,” Taehyung stared out at the moon through the bay windows, “Anyways, it just came to mind, and reminded me of you.”
There was a cloud of smoke drifting into nothing like they were his words being absorbed all around you. After that a silence seemed to fill the room and it was so calming in fact that you found yourself lulled to sleep against his chest.
It wasn’t until hours later when you had woken to loud noises, did you realize that he had not had the luxury of peaceful post-sex sleep.
The first thing you had noticed in your haze of sleep was the sky still blue out and the fire still crackling behind you. The second was that you still slept on the floor and Taehyung was not beside you anymore. It took you some time to realize all the noise that had woken you up was coming from him and his quick brush strokes.
Taehyung had a pair of jeans on and a smock. He didn’t even bother with a shirt, just slipped the smock over his bare chest and he sat on the floor with a pallet full of paint in his hands as he did soft strokes on his canvas. He was so focused that he didn’t seem to mind his glasses which had slipped down to the tip of his nose, lips slightly parted in concentration and eyes bouncing around his painting.
You wondered what this meant for you. You didn’t know what time it was but the way he worked so diligently didn’t even make you want to stay, what if it would bother him? You don’t want to do that and he seems to have already forgotten you were there and what you had just done. With a small sigh you looked around for all of your things, finishing getting dressed and in search of your shoes and bag.
Taehyung’s strokes were fast and agile, he didn’t even have to think of how he was painting, he was just moving mindlessly and mixing all the right colors and blending in all the right places. You took a seat on the sofa trying to put your boots back on.
“What are you doing?” Taehyung asked but his eyes never left the canvas. You could barely hear him over the sound of the record player still playing and it took you a second to know he was even talking to you.
You looked up curiously, “Um… it’s late, I should probably go, I don’t want to disturb your work.”
You were very understanding actually. There are many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night to write and you didn’t waste time on thinking of anything else while doing it so if Taehyung was the same about his painting then you didn’t want to bother him.
Taehyung pushed his glasses up with the tip of his brush as he finally looked at you, “You won’t disturb me. Stay.”
He watched as you brought your lower lip between your teeth in thought before saying, “Seriously Tae, I don’t mind leaving. You’re working, I understand.”
“But I mind,” Taehyung said in his deep voice that sounded even deeper this late with the fire in the fireplace still crackling and Beethoven’s String Quartet No. 14 playing in the background. You didn’t say anything for a moment and he ran a hand through his messy hair, a small paint streak coating a strand, “Won’t you stay, Y/n? I’ve been in a slump and right now it just hit me all at once and I think it’s because of you. Please, won’t you stay?”
“Can I watch?”
Taehyung did not hesitate to nod his head and motion for you to sit on the floor next to him so you moved quickly to do so.
By the end of the night you watched him paint until dawn with your head resting against his back adoringly. His brush strokes were hypnotizing and the way he captured the light perfectly had you in awe, especially when you realized it was a painting of you.
It inspired you the way he was so devoted to his work and it reminded you of yourself.
Your days carried on as usual after that night with Taehyung. The only differences being ones that involved him. For instance, he has called you a couple times —he’s completely against the act of texting. It’s never anything major, usually to ask how your day has been or to get coffee. There was no sign of an actual relationship but it was close to it.
Today you had your shared anatomy class and he sat next to you instead of behind you like he normally would.
You’re not very fond of the fact that he’s distracting you more than you would like him to but it’s something you can’t explain. Your pen scribbled away in your yellow page notebook with word after word just piecing together effortlessly. Taehyung was utterly fascinated by it all, sometimes you wouldn’t even look down but your pen seemed to never fully lift off the page. You filled page after page in the three hour class, eyes on the professor but nothing you wrote down had to do with what he was teaching.
Every now and then you would look over at him and your eyes would meet, he would raise a brow and you would give him a smile, before looking down to write.
“I don’t think you heard a single thing he said today,” Taehyung said once the two of you made your way out of the lecture hall side by side. From the way you stared off into space, lips moving every now and then as if mouthing silent words, he knew you weren’t listening. He doubts you meant to ignore him but clearly you seemed to be in your own world right now, just thinking about writing and writing and he gets it.
You weren’t thinking of anything else, and he knows this because he had to grab onto your waist and pull you back to keep you from walking right into the pouring rain just outside. You seemed to snap back into reality and looked around, “Did you say something?”
Taehyung was opening his umbrella for you, pulling you under it beside him, “I’ve written notes for you, you seemed a bit distracted to take them yourself today.”
Your eyes slowly widened in surprise as it finally dawned on you that you had spent the last three hours doing nothing but writing about him. You came to a sudden stop and he waited there beside you with the rain pounding on his umbrella. With a small sigh, he let go of you to rummage through his bag with his free hand and took out his notebook, “I wrote two of everything.”
“Taehyung,” you said, “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” he said with a shrug, “But you were so lost in your writing I didn’t want anything disturbing you. I had no problem with it, I’m a fast writer and a good listener.”
“Thank you,” you finally began to walk again now that you couldn’t bear the cold standing in one place, “I am bad at focusing on anything else when I write.”
“I understand,” he had to speak up so you could hear him over the rain, “And if you do not think I would be a bother, maybe you’ll let me watch you write more?”
“You’ll get bored,” you said as the two of you walked toward his car, a vintage Chevrolet Corvette that belonged to his grandfather.
“Watching you?” He asked, holding the door open for you, “Never.”
Your apartment was how he pictured it—books and papers scattered everywhere. You were still much neater than him but not by much, clearly the two of you focused too much on your craft that it’s completely taken over everything.
Your place was small yet spacious and well furnished with vintage chairs and mahogany bookshelves. There was a slight clutter of books upon books and dead plants that didn’t get enough sun with the curtains closed. It was warm and had your lovely scent. There was a stack of papers on a desk next to a laptop and an expensive looking typewriter.
There wasn’t much of a conversation going on between you, the last time you said something to him was when you asked him if he needed a drink. Your back was to him and he spent about an hour or so sitting alone on the daybed as he drew in his sketchbook.
After some time when you finally decided to join him, you were exhausted and physically drained. You lied down with your head on his lap looking up at him when his hand began to caress your cheek. “Taehyung.”
“Yes, my love?” He asked with his gaze meeting yours. The name just slipped and he didn’t care to take it back, only watched you curiously still waiting to hear what you would say. You blinked once, “I think I’m beginning to understand better.”
You had been writing nonstop for a long time but for the first time it felt like you finally understood your work.
There was no way to explain it but these interactions with Taehyung—your living reverie—have opened your eyes to his character and the way you wanted to write him in the first place. He was everything you had been searching for.
He leaned back, startled by the sudden way you sat up, hand around his looking at him, “You.”
“Me?” Taehyung asked with his hands on your waist, shifting you more on his lap, “You understand me?”
All it took was one nod of your head for him to be pulling you into a kiss meeting you halfway. He had a hand on your chin, angling your head opposite of his letting the kiss deepen, soon he was tracing the curve of your neck with his jaw. Every ounce of lust and greed poured out in his fingers when he touched you.
It didn’t take Jungkook long to realize something about his friend seemed different. He was used to Taehyung isolating himself when he had a wave of creativity. There would be days on end where Jungkook would call only for every call to be ignored. He would even write his friend letters but he never answered him. When he was back to normal, Taehyung would look tired like he hadn't eaten or slept in days.
Right now, Jungkook sees Taehyung but he doesn’t think Taehyung sees him. Despite sitting across from him, he wouldn’t look his way. Instead he was staring out the large windows that overlooked the courtyard
“Have you eaten?” Jungkook asked, looking up from his sketchbook. The two had been on the second floor of the library this evening studying classical art techniques. Jungkook had gotten bored and began to sketch up an idea for another sculpture while Taehyung drew someone he couldn’t recognize. His friend didn’t even so much as flinch and give any sign that he was listening.
A small scoff left his lips, “Taehyung.” With an annoyed huff, he reached for his sketchbook and watched with a confused expression, “Who is this?”
It was quite detailed despite how little time he had to draw this and Jungkook was in awe. For a second he wondered if this was original work from Taehyung, all created from his mind but as he followed Taehyung’s gaze out the window, he realized it wasn’t.
It was you.
You sat on a wooden bench facing the swan fountain and there was a book in your hands. Jungkook couldn’t make out the book but seemed to have all your attention because you stopped every now and then to highlight something then jot it down in a notebook. There were powder blue headphones on your head and you were in a red lace long sleeve top with roses embroidered on and under was a white shirt. The black skirt you wore reached below your knees with a slit on the side that exposed your boots and over it all, you had on a black coat. He’ll admit, you did look rather captivating against the dead green of the lawn and trees paired with the foggy sky from days on end of rain.
Taehyung seemed to have found his newest muse and it was all he could think about.
“Are you still interested in her?” Jungkook finally asked, catching the way a small smile seemed to fall on Taehyung’s face—something he rarely got to see despite how easily he gave them to you. Jungkook did recognize you in the drawing better once he got a good look at you. He had almost forgotten seeing you weeks ago when he was with Taehyung, but he had certainly forgotten his friend’s knowledge and curiosity of you.
“Only a little,” Taehyung said, ignoring the way Jungkook looked at him with disbelief. He was used to his friend having a sudden infatuation with a certain person but they were short lived and always ended with the poor girl crying about how cold he was—Jungkook knows because he was always there to pick up their broken pieces with a night in his bed [Taehyung never cared].
“She’s hot,” Jungkook said, half teasingly to read how his friend would feel. Taehyung merely gave him a side glance in acknowledgment but the smile he had for you had tightened as he looked back outside.
“It’s that guy again,” Jungkook pointed out as they both watched outside, “What’s his name?”
Kim Namjoon.
Taehyung was used to seeing him around throughout the years but he never had a need to pay attention to him before. Like most of those who he sees in passing they never become more than that—just a passing blur that he doesn’t care to know a single thing about. Namjoon used to be one of the ones he ignored until he heard you mention him once or twice.
“Who knows,” Taehyung said, shifting his gaze down to his sketch pad avoiding the sight of Namjoon and you now standing like you had somewhere to go.
Jungkook, the ever curious and procrastinating, kept watching you just out of sheer boredom. The library had gone dark aside from the few kerosene lamps scattered across tables but it was already getting hard to see his sketches properly so now he’s just waiting for Taehyung to finish.
Suddenly, all too suddenly that it made him jump in his seat, Taehyung was standing, shoving his things in his bag loud enough to create an echo in the cold library. Jungkook looked up at him, pencil laying limp in his hand now, “Are we done?”
Taehyung pushed his chair into the wooden table, not bothering to look back at his friend as he stormed off, “Yes.”
Not long after he watched his friend make his abrupt leave from the library… he saw him now approaching you and Namjoon.
You were blissfully unaware that you had been watching through the windows of a library as much as you were unaware of Taehyung coming up behind you as Namjoon talked. “I was thinking maybe we could go catch that new movie that just came out.”
“Oh, I was going to do some writing—You won’t believe it Joonie,” your tone changed so suddenly as you grabbed him by the arm, jerking him toward you excitedly carrying on like he hadn’t said anything, “It’s like I can’t stop writing, you wouldn’t believe how easily the words are flowing like… I don’t know, I’ve never felt this way before, Joonie.”
“That’s good, Y/n but,” Namjoon’s words slowed down as he looked behind you at the looming figure standing a few feet away. He’s never spoken a word to Kim Taehyung despite both being grad students, he only knows of him from what others have spoken and he’s very… cold. Since when did you and him begin to talk? Namjoon took your hands in his as he pulled you closer to have your attention knowing you still didn’t know who was behind you, “But it’s nice to get a break, you don’t want to overwork yourself.”
“You don’t get it, Namjoon,” you said his name instead of the affectionate nickname you’ve always called him, he couldn’t help but look at Taehyung who pretended like he wasn’t watching closely with a cigarette dangling between his fingers, “I can’t stop. I cannot stop. If I-I do, I don’t know.”
His gaze shifted behind you making you turn to look too and your eyes seemed to soften as you made eye contact with the dirty blonde you’ve been spending time with lately.
“Y/n,” Taehyung’s deep voice spoke as he stared at you two, “I thought you would be busy writing”
“I’m on my way to right now,” you said, taking a step toward him with your back to your friend, “Would you join me?”
A smile came to his face as he pushed his glasses up, “If I could paint you again.”
You stood still in thought. The first time he painted you was after you had sex for the first time when it felt warm, passionate and hungry. He never slept that night, he stayed up the entire time getting the right blends of pigment on your body as it lay on the flue blanket completely nude. You’re not sure if he knew what saying that would make you think but from the way his brow raised questioning made you think he did.
Namjoon felt his jaw clench, eyes glaring at Taehyung who didn’t even bat an eye in his direction. You looked back to Namjoon now who waited for you with a bated breath. You walked up to him making his heart face as you pressed your lips against his cheek with your softly brushing against his jaw. The kiss was tender on his face and when he looked down at you, you gave him an apologetic smile, “Will you call me?”
“Will you answer?” Namjoon asked but you weren’t beside him anymore. You were next to Taehyung who took your book bag off your shoulders and put it over his, a hand grazing your back as he talked to you but too far out of your friend’s ear shot.
“What did your friend want?” Taehyung asked.
“To see a movie but I have to finish what I’m writing before it slips my mind,” You said moving your hand to his bent arm walking alongside him, “I’ll have to catch up with him another day.”
He didn’t have anything to say to that but you could still feel his eyes on you. A part of you wanted to ignore his gaze because you find yourself at a loss for words any time he looks at you that way. It’s like he sees through you not at you and sometimes you don’t know which one is better.
There’s no denying that he likes the look of you, he finds you attractive and not just physically. You know that. You just can’t tell what he’s thinking that makes him look at you that way.
“Namjoon.”
He stood alone where you once had been beside him, just watching you leave with the art major he had no idea you were even involved with. Since when did you begin to talk to him and how did Namjoon never notice? Did you just decide that you would not be open with him anymore?
“Jimin,” Namjoon looked at his friend, a bit stunned, “Hey.”
The ballerina watched after you alongside him now as he asked, “Y/n is leaving with Taehyung?”
“Are they together?” Namjoon asked suddenly, “Did you know?”
Jimin shook his head no, “Not exactly, I mean, Y/n never hid the fact that she had a thing for Taehyung, I’m just surprised to see them leave together. Y/n never told me they began to talk.”
Namjoon bit his lip nervously, “You don’t think they’ll date or anything, do you? This just seems sudden.”
He looked to his friend for some comfort but all Jimin did was shrug his shoulders and say, “I don’t know, you know Y/n doesn’t really date and neither does he, they’re always too focused on writing or painting to think about anything else. Who knows, they might just work out because of how similar they are.”
“Yeah but…” Namjoon was trying to find words to say but nothing came to mind. Maybe he was just being bitter… he’s been your friend for years. He’s always been there for you anytime you needed him without question. You were attracted to him enough to sleep with him but was that all it was ever going to be? You won’t see him as more than just a friend but then Kim Taehyung comes along and suddenly you have no problem walking away from Namjoon to go with him?
Jimin looked at his friend apologetically, he sympathized with him. He’s known you for longer than Namjoon has and he’s been through this exact same thing before too. There was a time when he thought you and him were the closest until Namjoon came along and suddenly you spent all your time with him instead. Now Namjoon is experiencing what Jimin did but this time because of Taehyung and he feels bad for that.
“Look, I’m going to be honest,” Jimin tried to work out what he was going to say so it didn’t come off badly, “I think, Y/n loves the idea of Taehyung on paper… how she can write or create him like she’s done with you and I in the past. I think maybe it’s nothing past something superficial but at the same time…”
“At the same time,” Jimin repeated himself with a bated breath, “I see a lot of similarities between them especially when it comes to putting their work first and maybe that’s something they seem to understand about each other that we don’t.”
Namjoon didn’t get it.
So was it not that you two had feelings for each other?
Was it not that you might love each other?
Was it just that you two understood each other?
He doesn’t get it. Now, Namjoon might not understand your obsession with perfecting every aspect of your writing… but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you. He loved you a lot—more than he assumes Taehyung could love you.
It’s not like it’s a secret, Namjoon has always been open about the way he felt about you so why did you choose someone else? All because he couldn’t understand you the way Taehyung might? Is it because he can’t just look at you and know what you need the way Taehyung can?
Is it because he doesn’t spend hours missing sleep or eating just so he could obsess over his work too?
How could Taehyung possibly understand you more than he does?
::.
okokok this was kinda long but I’m sorry, blonde Taehyung as an art major was doing it for me 🫶this was a romance but also not necessarily bc the focus isn’t entirely on their relationship 🤒neither one of them are supposed to be super likable so if you hate them and the way oc did Joon and Jimin dirty i get it 🫡but they just genuinely do not think about anything but their craft.
Warnings: inexperience!dk, experienced!reader, mentions of previous drug use (weed) , oral (m. & f. receiving), cum swallowing, spitting, fingering, making out, strength kink bc he's hot, minor overstim at the end but he's just enthusiastic, fwb, this chapter is pure smut, spreading my DK is a munch agenda
Length: ~3.5k
Note: literally a doozy to write but its done, I have part 3-5 outlined so hopefully they go quicker, lemme know what yall think!
read more here
Tuesday Night Approx. 10:02 PM, DK’s bedroom
Dokyeom has come to the conclusion he’s hallucinating. The hot wet suckle of your mouth against the head of his cock, one hand jerking him in time with the motions of your head while the other gently cups his balls is just too good to be true. The view he’s witnessing is even more proof he’s gone certifiably insane.
You’re knelt between his spread legs at the edge of the bed, shoulders framed by his knees. At some point Dokyeom fell back on his elbows, granting you as much room as possible to do whatever you want as he stares down his body at you. The rhythmic bobbing of your head hypnotizes him, forcing him to fight demons against the urge to wrap a hand in your hair so he has a better view of your mouth working his cock. He thanks himself for having the foresight to at least ask you to take your top off this time, allowing him the pleasure to view the long muscles along your spine flexing, only obstructed by the band of your bra.
You’re the goddess of his dick and Dokyeom is an avid worshiper.
The first and only time he received head involved too much weed (both of them), teeth (hers), and tears (his) for him to enjoy any of it. It had been so unpleasurable he had avoided doing anything since in fear of repeating the experience.
You, however, make him regret not finding you on campus sooner. The genuine enthusiasm and enjoyment that radiates off you as you play with him has an orgasm tumbling towards him faster than he wants. When Dokyeom tries to inform you, hoping you’ll find a way to help him hold off, gasping your name and a broken “I’m gonna;” you respond with a delighted hum and work him harder.
“Holy shiii—,” he whines as you give a particularly harsh suck as he slides further in your mouth, tip nudging the back of your throat softly. A moan of your own shooting pleasurable snaps down his wrecked nerves.
He’s done for when your eyes peek open and find his.
Every muscle in his body clenches, his hips bucking up into your mouth despite his effort to remain grounded. Ears filled with the sound of his blood rushing, eyes squeezed tight. He knows he’s blabbering whatever praises have sat on the tip of his tongue since you started between deep desperate groans, but Dokyeom can’t hear a single thing. All he can focus on is how his cum shoots into your waiting mouth as you continue pumping him till his balls are empty.
You swallow his load with ease, popping off his dick to allow your tongue to dart and catch the dribble at the corner of your lips. If that’s how good it's gonna be everytime, Dokyeom is afraid he might fall in love with you from a simple blowjob.
“Good?” You ask with a cheeriness that seems a little out of place given that you’ve sucked his soul out.
Dokyeom’s brain function borders non-existent so he just grunts an affirmation from where he’s crashed on the sheets of his bed, tossing an arm over his eyes as he comes back to earth.
Your giggling has him cracking open his eyes lazily to find you resting your chin on his muscular thigh, smile wide, dangerously close to his softened cock.
“Are you the dick whisperer or?”
More giggles answer him. You think it's cute how clearly spent he is, not bothering to hide how you affect him, no bullshit bravado some other guys try to pull.
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” You coo.
“Well that was the best blowjob I’ve ever had.”
“My only competition is a girl from two years ago, but I’ll take it.”
You hop up next to him on the bed, lying parallel to his body as a comfortable silence settles between you. His eyes follow the steady rise and fall of your chest, gaze locked on how your boobs push against the thin fabric of your bra. Dokyeom just makes out the edges on what must be your stiff nipples poking through the cup. It makes him salivate.
“Can I try?”
“Try what?” You ask, turning your head to look at his face.
Dokyeom rolls over, propping himself up on an elbow to loom over you. His nose traces your jaw, unable to keep his hand from moving across the plane of your belly, thumb burning against bare skin as it dips below the elastic waistband of your leggings.
“Wanna eat you out.”
The gentle kiss he places under your ear is answered with stuttering breath and a subtle nod.
“Should I,” he swallows thickly. “How should I start?”
“Kissing is good.”
His lips leave a trail of gentle pecks across your cheek to your mouth. When your mouths meet, twin sighs leave your noses. You weren’t lying to him when you told him he was a good kisser.
The hand that was tracing the hollow of your hip moves up to your jaw, caressing your cheek and allowing Dokyeom to move your head where he wants it. He tilts your chin up, dragging the tip of his tongue against your plush lower lip. Your mouth opens slightly, allowing wet muscles to meet tentatively.
The vibration of your moan against his lips has his head dipping away.
“Good?”
You mutter a breathless “yes” into his mouth, missing his touch immediately. Your hands plant on the sides of his face, dragging him back in.
You both continue lazily, content in the way your lips meet and hands memorize the other's features. But Dokyeom longs to learn the ins and outs of your body, hoping he can make you feel at least a fraction of the pleasure you've gifted him twice now.
When he tries to disconnect your lips this time, you chase him. Pulling him back in with a maddening drag of teeth, followed by the dull sting of your nails against his shoulder. Your free hand moves his from your jaw down to your chest, giving him an encouraging squeeze to start playing with you.
Hesitating, his large palm gently fondles your breast, thumbing the edge of the lacy fabric hiding you from view. He isn’t doing much other than letting the weight of it settle in his hand. When you break away your gaze to watch his reaction, Dokyeom’s face is set in determination.
“You can do more.”
At your permission he gives a gentle squeeze, it’s sweet but not what you need.
“Like this.”
Gently brushing him away, you flip the cup of your bra down to expose yourself to the chill of the air. Dokyeom eyes follow with rapt attention, hypnotized by the swell of your chest and the contrasting skin. He stares as you grab his hand again, moving it back to cup your breast. From the gaps between his fingers, ribbons of your flesh are still visible. When the calloused side of his thumb rolls across your nipple this time, you shudder.
“If you want,” you gasp, “you can use your mouth.”
That was all he needed to dive for your chest. Immediately opening his mouth to cover your areola, sucking with too much enthusiasm.
“Wait!” You wince, shoulders caving inward at the zap of discomfort.
Dokyeom jumps back like he’s burnt, terrified expression blooming on his features.
“It’s okay! But you need to build up to it, ya know?”
“Like how?”
“Kiss my neck, keep using your hands. But make me want it first and it’ll feel a lot better.”
“Make you…want it? But can’t I just give it to you?”
“Think of it like…” you rack your brain, but when the flex of his biceps catch your eye you continue. “when you workout! You need to warm up first or you’ll get hurt, right?”
“Yeah?” he questions, still unsure.
“So you gotta warm me up first. Just start gently and then… you can get a little rougher.”
“Okay, okay.” He mutters to himself. “Gentle then rough, make you want it. Got it.”
He moves his face back to your chest, rubbing his lips across the smooth skin at the hollow of your throat. Letting his tongue dip out, Dokyeom etches a scorching path along the dips and curves of your chest. He tentatively covers your bare breast with his hand again, squeezing gently while his thumb catches your sensitive nub.
“Much better,” you sigh dreamily, entranced by the featherlight touches he’s teasing along your skin.
“Can I take your bra off?”
His question is barely intelligible since he mutters it into your skin, around his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
Without a word, you arch up and move your hands behind your back. One day he’ll insist you teach him to take it off himself but right now he zeros in on the way you’re pushing into his mouth as the fabric falls limp around your chest, exposing more soft skin for him to explore. You shuck the offending garment off your body, and toss it over the side of his bed.
Completely bare from the waist up under him, Dokyeom props himself up to catalog the masterpiece that is you. Hair spread across his sheets beneath you, a few rogue tendrils twist below your chin and tickle your neck. Eyes hooded lowly, pupils blown wide. There's a faint blush spreading across your cheeks and down your front, making your skin glow mesmerizingly; and your lips, bruised and swollen, are parted around your shallow pants.
Yeah, he can definitely get used to seeing you like this.
“What?”
“You’re just… wow.”
“Wow?”
“You’re half naked in my bed after destroying my dick, please be nice to me.”
You respond with a shy smile as you drag him back in. He leaves more kisses across your face and down your chin before getting back to work.
Experimenting, Dokyeom finds your tit. His teeth graze against the puckered bud sucked into his mouth, nipping it gently before laving his tongue across the sore flesh soothingly. He’s rewarded with an agonizing grind of your hips against his thigh, savoring the scalding heat of your pussy through the thin fabric separating you.
“Again.” You tell him.
So he does.
He memorizes every dreamy sigh, satisfied moan, and sobbed hiccup released from your mouth. He also memorizes exactly what he does to deserve them. You like when he darts the tip of his tongue out to guide himself from one area to the next. Huffing when he blows a cool stream of air on the wet trail, giving rise to a litter of goosebumps. If he scratches his teeth on the more sensitive skin of your nipples or underside of your breast, you’ll hiss a sharp breath and twist your fist in the sheets beside you, back arching for more. If he plays with both of your nipples simultaneously, engulfing one between his lips and lapping with his tongue while his hand pinches and pulls the other, you’ll tremble in his hold and cry his name hoarsely.
He really likes that one.
“Good?”
You’d think he was teasing if it wasn’t for the trickle of insecurity that seeps into his voice.
“Great,” you praise, eyes shut against the pleasure you’re receiving. “You should take my pants off.”
“Really?”
“Want you to see how wet you made me.”
He chokes on his own saliva, coughing against you.
“Are you okay?”
His eyes are watering and his face is red as he catches his breath.
“Oh my god!” Your eyes go wide with worry.
When he finally calms himself, he pins you with a stern look.
“You can’t just,” he huffs. “say stuff like that.”
“Like what? That you’re making me horny?”
“Exactly like that! God, I think I’m gonna pass out.”
“So you don’t wanna hear how much I want you to fuck me?” You whisper in his ear, lips dragging against the sensitive shell of his ear.
“No,” he swallows, your words decimating his brain and all common sense. “I do, I just, fuck.”
The last word he groans in response to you stuffing his hand between your spread thighs. The crotch of your leggings are soaked, clinging to the lips of your pussy thanks to your previous movement against his leg.
“Can you feel it?” You pant in his ear. “How wet you made me?”
Eyes drifting shut to focus on the slick coating his fingers, Dokyeom lets his hand dip lower to push against where he thinks your clit is. His chest threatens to burst with pride when your hips stutter into his palm.
“Please,” you whimper.
It breaks his heart to remove his hand but he aims to make up for it by stripping off your pants in a rush. Dokyeom nearly rips the material apart when it catches around your thighs but he uses his strength to lift your hips, pushing them down your legs and off you like he has a personal vendetta against them. Your underwear comes off as well, tossed over his shoulder next to your forgotten bra and shirt.
Dokyeom lies between your splayed legs, chest flat with the bed as his hands hook under your knees and push your legs up to spread you before him. Your inner thighs are glistening, smeared with your own arousal that leaks from your cunt, lips swollen and flushed, clit peeking out from under your mound. A wet spot darkens the fabric of his sheets below you, increasing in size as your entrance squeezes around nothing. His nose is full of your heady scent, mouth watering for a taste.
He dives in while his brain sings his new life motto: gentle then rough, make you want it. Gentle then rough, make you want it.
Using his knowledge of what worked well on your chest, he blows a cool breath against your hot center. Dokyeom watches as you mewl above him, head falling back as your spine arches. Barely there kisses tease the sensitive skin of your thigh next to his head, punctuated by sharp nips of teeth leaving bruises blooming bright red in their path.
Dropping his hands from your knees but leaving your legs on his shoulder, he uses his thumbs to spread you apart, granting him unobstructed access to your most sensitive parts. He feels like a pervert; a voyeur, staring in awe at the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen. He knows he’s only seen one in real life (yours) but no one else’s will ever compare.
Once Dokyeom has taken his fill, and you’re at your wits end above him, he uses the tip of his tongue to score a path from your dripping hole to your clit; moaning at the taste covering his tongue.
“More!” you whine from above, voice thick want.
“You said to make you want it.” He rasps, face still buried between your legs, mapping every ridge and dip.
“I do!”
“Let me play with it.”
Dokyeom signs his requests with a firm lick to your clit against the flat of his tongue.
“Ahh!” You croak, convulsing from the sudden simulation. One hand flying to his hair to keep him in place.
Dokyeom is all too happy to continue, lapping indecently at your pussy. In his opinion, feeling your essence coat his chin and cheeks as he works you is almost as satisfying as having his cock in your mouth. Seeing you get off above him clicks why you were so enthusiastic when the roles were reversed. He could live and die eating your pussy without complaint.
The rush of pleasure has your thighs attempting to crush his skull. When he pulls your legs apart brutishly you arch again, turned on at the thought of him using his muscles to pin you down and leave you at his mercy. He folds you in half easily, hands pushing the back of your thighs up and out his way.
Since his hands are occupied with pinning your legs in place, one of you attempts to assist him. The hand not fisted in his hair shoots to your pussy, spreading your lips for him and directing him to your clit. Dokyeom doesn’t hesitate to tease your nub framed between your fingers. The occasional brush of his drenched lips or pointed tongue against your hand makes your head fuzzy.
Dokyeom feels you snatch one of his hands away from your leg, pulling it to your face. You suck two of his slender fingers into your mouth, moaning when they press down on your tongue causing you to drool around them. Dokyeom opens his eyes to gape at the vulgar display, hips twitching against the bed when your eyes meet his.
Holy shit.
He’s torn between wanting to stretch you open around the digits you're currently lapping at and letting you continue, imagining it's his cock between your lips. Fortunately for you he doesn’t ponder his choice for too long. Pulling his hand away, his eyes stay trained on yours as he reaches under his own chin to circle your hole. The mix of saliva and the juices of your pussy let him slide in easy enough, silky inner muscles eager to pull him deeper.
“Spit on it,” you beg, eyes glassy.
He swallows harshly. If he was capable of any thought other than how sexy you are, he’d kick himself for how he let your first time together play out. Virginity be damned, he could have cum from this alone.
Dokyeom is more than willing to give you whatever you desire so he pulls away just enough to spit harshly on your clit, watching the bead race to where his fingers spread you, allowing it to disappear inside the rim of your entrance as he pumps his arm. He fumbles to reattach his mouth to your clit, lashing against the nerves as he stuffs you full; desperate to have you come on his face.
You're a moaning mess above him, hair matted to your sweaty forehead, hands threatening to rip the sheets apart as you fist them.
“Give me another one,” you instruct, immediately granted your wish.
All you can do is gawk at Dokyeom below you as he brings you to your end with embarrassing speed. Every muscle in your body is pulled taunt, threatening to break any second as tears fill your vision. Your orgasm right there but just out of reach. But when you catch the way Dokyeom is humping against the bed, you snap. You don’t care that his roommate might still be home as you throw your head back with a sob, tears spilling down your face as endorphins blaze through your veins. Your mind is incinerated, vision filled fuzzy with fireworks. You can’t breathe as you gush into his mouth, thighs locked around his head and threatening to suffocate him.
To his credit, Dokyeom doesn’t stop despite the way you thrash below his mouth. If anything, his efforts increase, only encouraged by your shaky moans and shaker thighs. He snags both your ankles in one palm, stretching your legs up and over his head as far as can before pushing them back into your chest to twist you in a V. You get impossible tighter with the shift as he continues to stuff your clenching entrance while he licks your clit, a mess of spit and arousal pooling between your cheeks. You have to pull him away by his hair, interrupted several times by him diving back in to suck up your juices, fingers pushing more and more out of you to drip down his wrist. When you whine and tell him it's too much he finally relents with a gentle kiss and one last thrust before releasing your legs and resting his cheek on your thigh.
You both lay there in silence, panting against one another. Dokyeom kisses back up to your face, dropping sweet pecks to the tops of your thighs, across your hip bones to your belly button where he lets his nose trace up to your sternum and finally to your chin. When you open your eyes you find him staring at you sleepily.
“Hi,” he says, voice thick.
“Hi,” you smile.
He dips to press one last kiss to your lips before pulling you into his arms, pillowing your head on his bicep and brushing his other hand through your tangled hair. He ignores the way his sticky cock throbs against his leg, focusing on caring for you rather than himself.
“Good?” He mumbles against your forehead, lips resting on your hairline.
“I think you’re lying about never having done that before.”
“Scouts honor, you’re the first.”
“Honored. Glad our first tutoring session was so successful.”
First? He thinks.
“There’ll be more?”
“Well, yeah,” you whisper, suddenly bashful in case he’s no longer interested.
“Sweeeeeet!” he whoops.
You roll your eyes at his boyish response but feel yourself smile anyway. If he can learn to fuck you as well as he eats you out then you’re in for a ride.
🔮 preview. “She’s not the reason we’re dressed as clowns,” Hyuck is quick to insist. He’s such a good liar. Jungwoo would almost believe it, if you hadn’t told him your Halloween clown plan. It’s no secret to you that your three frat friends all have crushes on you, so you’d decided to tell Jaehyun about wanting to fuck a clown, just to see who would actually follow through with the costume. You’d expected one, maybe two- but here are all three men, dressed as exactly what they are: clowns. And it’s obvious to Jungwoo that they think this is their own idea. As if you’re not the puppeteer behind this all. God, Jungwoo loves having you as a best friend, even if your bucket list includes a frat clown Halloween orgy with three of his best friends.
tw/cw. clown kink? orgy, foursome, unprotected sex, semi-inexperienced reader, oral, blow jobs, pussy eating, cum eating, squirting, fingering, masturbation, guided masturbation, spanking, choking, spit-roasting/Eiffel tower, cum/filling kink, praise, dirty talk, first time anal, cock warming, double penetration, triple penetration, multiple reader orgasms, dacryphilia, overstimulation, deep throating, face grinding, etc… I pet names: (hers) barbie, babe, baby.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 10.6k
🍭 aus. Halloween, frat au, friends to lovers, Joker!Jae, Buggy!Mark, Pennywise!Hyuck, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I'm not sure I can even explain this one tbh
“How long…” Mark leans close again, and his lips brush over your ear, “How long have you known we’re all into you.”
“You’re not great at hiding it, Mark,” you laugh.
“And you really don’t have a favorite?” he asks, pulling away to look you deep in your eyes.
“Do I seem like I have a favorite?” you counter.
“It’s obviously me,” Hyuck says loudly, pulling you back even tighter. “I’m everyone’s favourite.”
Mark ignores Hyuck, his gaze dipping down to your lips then back up. Even in a sea of bodies, with Hyuck rubbing against your ass, something about being pressed to Mark’s chest while he stares at you like this feels intimate. He’s so pretty, especially with the clown makeup and the blue hair- it gives him this dangerous edge, but below the layers of red, white and blue, this is still Mark, one of the softest men you’ve ever met.
You can’t help yourself, you lean forward, reaching for Mark’s shoulders-
He practically smashes his mouth against yours, and you realize how eager he is by the way his tongue immediately swipes a lick at your lower lip. His fingers dig into your hips, tugging you closer and away from Hyuck-
A second mouth finds your skin, with Hyuck groaning against your throat. The sensation makes a shiver run through you, and you part your lips for Mark, who dips his tongue inside.
You truly can’t believe your luck tonight. As you cling tighter to Mark, enjoying Hyuck’s rough hands on your body, you almost forget about Jaehyun- but as soon as he pops in your mind, you pull away from the roommates, turning to look for your Joker.
He’s no longer standing by the dance floor, he’s walking away, and your heart lurches in your chest.
“Jae-” you say, tugging away from Mark and Hyuck to chase after your favorite classmate. If you’re being really honest with yourself- you’d told Jae about wanting to fuck a clown because out of all three, he’s the one you could see yourself really going the distance with.
Jaehyun has two years on Mark, and three on Hyuck- he’s the most mature of the three karaoke fratboys you’ve been thirsting over. There’s something about him that’s always made you feel calm- in contrast to the chaos Hyuck brings, and the warm fuzzies Mark gives you.
You like them all in different ways, you suppose, and you can’t stand the idea of losing even one of them from your hook tonight.
“Jae!” you call again, louder this time as you follow him- catching up just as he makes it to the stairwell door. He turns to look at you, and you blink. “Where are you going?”
“Needed a stronger drink,” he muses, scanning your face. “You’ve got a little something, here-” he reaches, cupping your chin and brushing his thumb over your lips, “And here,” his fingers smooth across your neck.
“Oh-” you go to wipe at your skin, only to find white and red makeup on your hand.
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⌲ Description: Min Yoongi - The 7th year Slytherin student notorious for his cold and indifferent personality, and not to mention his anti-social tendencies. What was it about him that made you so curious?
- Warnings: swearing, some finger action
The last person you expected to see was an ‘old friend’ from nearly a decade ago, but you’re determined to show the man that you’re no longer the little girl he use to know.
@bloodline1632 @seokjinkismet @babycandy111
Word Count: 2.070
Warning: smut, stripper reader, mafia/gangster yoongi, haegeum type vibes fr fr, grinding, finger sucking, the reader is down bad, but so is yoongi, kissing, sucking,
“You’ll do amazing, really!” Bunny - your co-worker - says as she pats the highlighter upon your cheekbones. “You’re already on your way to becoming a favorite.”
You take a deep breath and nod.
“Please stay focused. We have very important people tonight.”
And there it was, your nerves kicking back in once more.
You only been here for a week - the high end strip club is more than you imagined. You often thought it would be littered with creeps and smelt of cheap booze and cigarettes - but maybe you just chose the right one.
Your name is being called now and from behind the curtains, you notice the lights dim, and the red spotlight appears. You clicked your heels, rounding the curtain and made your way towards the middle of the stage. It’s amazing how you were able to turn your nerves off when needed be - you were highly grateful that you didn’t need any liquid courage to do so.
Bunny was correct when she said it would be a busy night - and the important people she spoke of had to be front and center. You sway your hips to the pole, hooking a leg around it and swinging as you do - a routine you practiced for the past two days.
You often don’t look into the crowd while performing - you were a natural overthinker and the last thing you needed was to mess up in front of a group of men. However, this was different. You had important people here tonight and your boss informed each dancer tonight to “appear” available and interested.
You regret taking her advice.
You drop to your knees slow and sultry, crawling towards the edge of the stage. Smoking typically wasn't allowed, but important guests always got their way. Your eyes focus on the man smoking and you froze.
Those eyes - such cold and feline-like eyes. They flash in your mind and you were brought back to your childhood; specifically your teenage years. As the smoke clears, as does your vision on the man - pale, porcelain-like skin, hard eyes and a low smirk on his lips.
Yoongi.
Min Yoongi was before you. He was the important guest tonight - he looked it. Even in the sea of people, you can smell the expensive cologne mixed with the nicotine smell. He appeared clean shaven and had not aged since you last saw him a decade prior.
Yoongi brings the cigarette back into his lips, his fingers curling as he does so. Your eyes glance to his hands, large and veiny and full of shining diamonds.
Your eyes begin to grow dry and you blink. You finally inhale to not have your head go any more lightheaded than necessary.
You hear a hiss of your name and your body immediately reacts. You begin to crawl once more, your eyes on nobody but Yoongi now. He furrows a brow and appears amused and curious.
Min Yoongi was before you.
Your Min Yoongi.
The same Min Yoongi that your father despised - called him a thug and everything but a decent human being. Father’s never approved of their little girls being hooked on an older man - but he was only two years older; if that. The same Min Yoongi who you had once admitted to loving during too many drinks and even when you insisted on showing him you weren’t a little girl, he never took advantage of your advances.
Min Yoongi was before you now - and you weren’t a teenager anymore. You were a woman that grew into her curves and appearance, and you were determined to show him just that.
It’s crazy to think that just one look at him made you feel as you did as a teenager - shy, but willing, giddy and wanting to prove yourself to him.
Yoongi leans closer to the stage just as you lean forward. Your manicured hand grasps his large ones and grasps the cigarette. You were never a smoker - he knows this. But he only smirks as you take a puff of it and blow it at him.
Your time was up, but your eyes linger onto Yoongi’s longer as you exit the stage. You feel it all fall on you at once - the nerves and nausea. Yoongi was here. He had seen you like this - what was he thinking? Has he remembered you?
“What was that?” Bunny heels slam against the floor as she rushes to you. “Do you know who that is?”
Yes. “No.”
Bunny’s eyes widened. “You don’t know who Suga is?”
Suga. Yoongi must have made another name for himself. He was once someone your father considered bad news and you can only guess what he was into back then - but Yoongi is a man now. He surrounded himself with men, him directly in the middle. He was an important member of whatever society he ran with; you didn’t really care much to ask.
“I was told to entertain the guests.” you shrug your shoulders. “Suga seems to be a very important person.”
Bunny nods with wide eyes. “Extremely. He dabbles in organized crime and is one of our biggest spenders here. You-”
“Y/N.”
You freeze, as does Bunny.
“I’m dead.” you murmur to Bunny who slowly nods.
Your boss’ eyes are upon you when you turn. Her arms are crossed as she motions you to follow her.
“I-I didn’t mean-”
“You aren’t in trouble.” your boss murmurs as you saunter towards her. “Seems like your little stunt caught Suga’s eye. He never pays for a dance.”
Yoongi did remember you.
Your heart races as your boss points to the back rooms, the further room in the back. The only room without a camera.
You look yourself over in the mirror. Your hair appeared to be in place still, as did your makeup. Your lingerie hugs you nicely and your heels were just an added bonus.
It grows hotter and quieter as you make your way down the hall to the back room - a V.I.P section. You slide the door open and make your way in. Yoongi is seated upon the round, leather section. The room is surrounded with mirrors and low lights. On the table forward him is a large bottle of champagne - the most expensive there was at the club - and two glasses.
“Sit.” Yoongi says as you close the door behind you. He goes to pour both glasses of champagne, handing you one as you round the table.
“Thank you.” you murmur. It takes everything in you not to melt - but you are grown now and no longer the shy teenage girl.
You sit on his lap, legs swinging to trap him between your thighs. Your eyes meet his as you drink the champagne.
Yoongi’s pink tongue coats his lips as he leans back into the couch. He doesn’t go to move you from your laps, and even if you did, you wouldn’t leave without a fight. After all, he paid for your services - private dances weren’t cheap and especially not in the V.I.P backroom.
You discard your glass beside you without a care, licking your own lips.
“Y/N…Y/N…”
Your arms are fresh with goosebumps when you hear his voice say your name. He down the champagne, free hand rubbing against your thigh to your waist.
“How much you’ve grown since the last time I saw you.” Yoongi finally says as he finishes the champagne, discarding his own glass to the side.
“I can say the same for you…” you begin to roll your hips. “...Suga.” All the girls are informed to not be so close to a client. They paid for a certain amount of time - and in that time you were told to stall, only sitting upon them at the last few minutes of the dance.
Yoongi’s hands are as large as you know them to be, both now cupping your waist.
“How is it that when my name comes from your lips it sounds sweeter than ever before?”
Yoongi’s eyes rack over your figure.
You were no longer the little girl who followed him around against her father’s wishes. No, you were now a woman - a full grown woman who grew into her chest and hips. He recalls the amount of times he (against your own knowledge) would have to assure no creep used your naivety to their advantage.
Yoongi’s girl is what they called you - even back then. No matter how much he told anyone that you were nothing but a close friend to him; someone he would protect because he had a heart.
“Where have you been?” Yoongi allows his curiosity to get the best of him. He was no fool in knowing the pure hatred your father had for him - even if Yoongi never took advantage of your feelings for him. When you were old enough to consider making your own decision, you were shipped far away from Daegu - and that was ten years ago.
You continued your lap dance, your hands placing themselves on his shoulders. Yoongi is but a man and his eyes rack your figure in the tight lingerie, large hands rubbing up your side with a lick of his lips once more.
“My dad sent me to live with my aunt and continue school there.” you respond. “I came back when he got sick.”
Yoongi furrows a brow. Your father was sick. He hasn’t seen the man since he last saw you.
“Dropped out of school to take care of him. Now I’m here.” you roll your hips against the bulge forming in his pants. “With you.”
Yoongi feels your hands rub from his shoulders to his torso.
“What about you, Suga? You seem to have made a name for yourself.”
Yoongi was being far too modest for your liking. You grasp his hands in yours, eyes staring right into his. You allow his hands to roam your body, setting them right onto your breasts.
“I have.” Yoongi murmurs, voice deeper. “I own this city now, baby.”
You swallow at the pet name, leaning closer. You want to capture his lips with your own - they were so rosy and soft.
“I bet you do.” you murmur, warm breath against his lips. “Does someone run it with you?”
Yoongi tilts his head. He gives you a snicker. “You still got that crush, huh?” he teases. He squeezes your breast lightly before his right hand cups your check.
You grow hot at his words, swallowing thickly. You wouldn’t allow him to treat you like the same little girl you once were. You were an adult - you were in control of your own desires.
“It’s more than a crush now. I’m not a little girl.”
Yoongi knows this - he wants to tell you just how much you’ve grown since the last time he saw you.
“I can show you how much it’s grown.”
Yoongi can’t take his eyes from you. Your tongue peeks out and wraps around his thumb. You suck on it, eyes boring into his own. His cock twitches at the sultry act.
“Y/N…”
You moved fast. From sucking onto his thumb to your lips upon his. Your thighs clenched him beneath you tightly, never wanting to let go.
Yoongi loses himself in your touch, arms wrapping around your bare body, touching skin he never knew he would ever long to touch.
Your tongue dances with him, his hands cupping your ass, guiding you to continue to grind against his bulge.
“I want you, Yoongi.” you murmur against his lips.
“I know, baby.” Yoongi grunts. “I know…”
Your teeth clasps down onto his bottom lips, fingernails digging into his shoulders. “Then take me.”
Yoongi shudders, holding onto you even tighter.
“You can have me. All of me.”
Yoongi shakes his head, breathing quickening. Your words ring in his ears non-stop.
“I want to be your girl.” you continue - you refused to hear anything other than approval. “You can have all of me right now and forever.”
Yoongi lips are against the skin of your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses. Your words are getting to him, his cock begging to take you.
But you weren’t a common whore - not just some pussy to wet his cock. You were someone he cared for deeply.
“You are my girl.”
Your lips meet his once more and your heart feels satisfied - it’s the same words you wanted to hear for years now.
summary: as soon as senior years comes to an end a lot of teens shed who we were and strive to be flourish into a more polished version of themselves. although, broken hearts aren’t so quick to heal what happens when thoughts reveal all we need to know?
warnings: lets begin.. themes and mentions of bullying; brief physical violence; brief mention of blood; bickering; denial of feelings; mention of less than ideal parents; cliche high school themes (in flashbacks); foul language; oral (m. receiving); penetrative and inprotected sex; clitoral stimulation; nipple play; thigh riding; vag fingering; overstimulation; sub!jjk themes - he is a good boy; he uh.. arrives on her face.. anyways; i hate this trope ugh but miscommunication; jjk has a big d!; not edited.
word count: 25,5 thousand words
posted: wed sept. 6, 2023 at 12:28PM
notable songs: like i want you - giveon | thinkin bout you - frank ocean | like or like like - miniature tiger | war of hearts - ruelle | sunday morning - maroon5 🎧
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The sun is now setting.
Behind you as the last hours of the late summer evening approached the sun was beginning to finally pucker its lips against the horizon, as a result, the sky became dusted with hints of deep orange, yellow and purple. The clock finally struck nine o’clock and you couldn’t help but slump down on the palms of your hands, sitting behind the main desk on the same stool you had been since the beginning of your shift. Your pupils followed as the little hands on the clock hung on the opposite wall seemed to move slower and slower, completely freezing you in time.
Fucking Mondays.
You sighed. When you had initially signed up for the work study position at the library you thought things would be just a bit different.
For example, you thought being a staff member here would get you free access to course books and materials but that wasn’t the case. Right before you’d been hired, some idiot named Yoongi who worked behind the help desk at the computer lab was caught selling copies of the course materials to multiple students on campus.
Like—right before you were hired and now that privilege had been swiped right off the tip of your fingers the moment your member badge had been printed.
Secondly, time behind that rotating door at the main entrance just stopped. No, more like slammed down on the brakes abruptly the moment you crossed that threshold. There were no warnings or brake lights or even a bright sign to apprise in advance.
Another drawn out sigh escaped your lips.
There was no exaggeration in your boredom, however, besides the ‘promises’ of saving money on school materials vanishing entirely, you still needed the monetary earnings so you hid behind a fabricated smile and immediately accepted the job offer happily.
Well, as happily as you could be.
God, you were jaded. Five after nine. Only five minutes had gone by yet it felt like an eternity.
Your mind was on overdrive yet your body remained stationed in the same exact place—in the same exact position. Not a single tendon transposed and they constricted your muscles in place. You were there sort of glued to the metal surface of the stool but fuck did you wanted to move.
Needed to actually. You needed a sort of mobile stimulation but still you couldn’t seem to get your arms and legs to comply. Not until your focus circled around your extremities and your need to just fucking. . do something.
You crossed your legs to the left, then to the right, then you hung your legs on the wooden bar under the desk to give them a rest from just hanging on your side, then you sat with your legs spread open before realizing you wore a skirt and you quickly pressed your thighs together tightly. Shift after shift you grew more angsty, more impatient, more exasperated with the sluggish speed the hours of the night adopted.
Slowly, you reached into your bag and unwrapped a piece of gum before sticking it in your mouth. You chewed slowly. Seven after nine, only two minutes have gone by since you last looked at the time.
Okay, maybe if you number your chews to the rhythm of each second then time will somehow speed by. Right? You began your countdown backwards from sixty.
You chewed down on the watermelon flavored stick of gum. Sixty.
Again, fifty-nine.
And, again, fifty-eight.
Once more, fifty-seven.
In just a matter of minutes the sky behind you turned pitch black and finally the stars came out to play, they pranced around dancing in the sparkling delight and you couldn’t really help but envy their freedom as they lived without confinement.
“Tell me something. .” You quickly registered that irritating tone, that very familiar and insipid, absolutely annoying and vexing tone. The same one which sent a bubbling shot of acid to course into your bloodstream every time you were faced with the disdain of hearing it, “should I reprint you a copy of the employee manual? Last time I checked skirts above the knee and gum chewing are strictly prohibited in the work place.”
You leaned your head to the side, narrowing your eyes in his direction as he stood by the doorframe, “you’re not the supervisor, let alone the manager,” you murmured through gritted teeth, “fuck off.”
He shook his head slowly while clicking his tongue. He was mocking you, the little shit was mocking you, “Not a manager. Just someone who likes to enforce the rules especially comes to you.”
“Rule enforcer?” you scoffed, chewing louder and louder as you chomped down, purposefully smacking your gum in the process, “sounds a lot like you being a little bitch. I guess it’s all just the same to me.”
“Bitch?” he guffawed.
“Yes, that’s what I said,” you challenged.
“Mini skirt, gum chewing, and foul language. You’re really making this so easy for me,” he mocked.
The extent of your interactions were always, always, reduced to this. Just the endless streaks of taunting, the continuity of poking at each other buttons beyond forgiveness, and to top it all of the boiling irritation cooking up in the pit of your stomach.
As far back as you could remember there wasn’t an ounce of amiability in the mixture of your interactions together.
You and him met the summer before the ninth grade. From there on you knew him once classes began. Well ‘knew’ was a very loose term in this situation. The two of you were just teens, fifteen years old to be exact, in the same school, in the same home room, yet from different cliques.
His brown eyes drank you in like he was consuming every inch of your soul—it was invasive, intimidating, and exactly what you deserved. Deep down you were one hundred-percent sure of the fact.
“What?” you barked.
“Just remembering the good old time,” he smirked, “the ones where words remain your preferred and deadliest weapon.”
What transpired from that night was nothing compared to his cold gaze and punctured words.
Faint lights of that night sparkled into memory, years have passed but you remember every detail as if it was just yesterday.
The school bathroom was your least favorite place in the building, it was usually crowded with destined criminals, the stench was horrid and it was the obvious root of every ridiculous rumor to ever be birthed within the walls of Oakwood High School.
You leaned against the white ceramic sink, your back faced the stained plastic mirror as you faced him sitting on top of the toilet tank. He was the personification of trouble, the very synonym of everything you needed to stay away from.
The two of you came from two different worlds.
He was draped and wrapped up in a black hoodie, complemented by dark distressed jeans while his rugged and muddy boots stained found camp on the toilet seat, staining it beyond repair.
“What exactly is it that you need from me?” he asked, his tone wasn’t as stern or deep as you usually heard around the halls. There was a slight stutter; a falter.
“It’s more than one thing,” you exhaled, your eyes flickered between him and the stall just to the right of him, “. .that I need from you.”
He hummed, “go on.”
The sun trickled in through the foggy windows and it embellished very detail, every feature that you had never once before noticed on the boy before you. His eyes were giant orbs almost doe like, his lips were a deep taint of roseate the same one which dusted the apples of his cheeks. There was a certain delicate look behind the dark aura he cemented within himself.
You took paced steps in his direction feeling just a bit dizzy the closer you became.
Perhaps, it was that overbearing piss smell.
Or, perhaps, you just didn’t want to go through with this. You wanted to call this off but there was this fervent exhilaration burning just below your skin—you wanted to continue speaking to him, you wanted to envelop yourself in the softness of his lips.
But this wasn’t right but you couldn’t help the guidance of your feet, until finally you stood right before him.
Up close his eyes were prettier, shinier yet darker and you easily found yourself swimming in them engulfed in vastness simulating the bottomless sea.
He was everything you wanted and everything you needed to stay away from.
Two different people. Two different worlds.
“Are you going to tell me what you need?”
“I think,” your palm landed on his knee for support as you climbed onto the toilet seat taking a seat on his lap, “it’s much better if I show you.”
By now, and by the radicle of his reputation you expected for him to push you right off his life, for him to gargle the disgust in the back of his throat and regurgitate it right back on you. But he didn’t instead his gaze intently followed you every move, he probably already noticed your quivering figure hiding behind your confident facade.
There was no shaking off this nervousness, even but in your mind you reminded yourself that you were you and he was simply him.
“Show me what exactly?” he swallowed, his Adam's bobbed distinctively, “you know this is the first time you’ve ever uttered a single word in my direction.”
“I highly doubt that,” you hid your nervousness behind the security of your confident tone.
“It’s true,” he continued, “I bet you have never even noticed that my locker is directly across from yours.”
“Wait. .” You hooked your bait, hanging it low over his head attempting to reel him in once and for all, “do you spend your time in the halls looking at me?”
“I never said—“
Your palms found their way up to towards the back of his neck and you inched closer to his face vividly detailing the golden tone of his glowing skin.
You never noticed before, he was always an arm’s length away, which was probably your fault to begin with, but he was truly beautiful.
“You did kind of imply it.”
“I don’t think it works that way.”
“Does to me.”
His eyes remained on your lips as you tucked your lower lip under your upper teeth. There was an unreadable expression ignited behind his pupils, something you’ve never seen before, not behind the frigid gaze of your best friends and it certainly wasn’t present in the way your boyfriend looked at you either.
It held the comfort of tenderness and it wrapped you right into his warm embrace.
“You know, you keep averting my question.”
“Remind me, once again,” you smiled softly, “what is it that you wanted to know.”
“What do you want to show me?” you pursed out your lower lip before licking them agonizingly slowly to almost emphasize their plumpness. While coating them in a thin layer of the sheen shininess from your saliva. That put him in a trance, his eyes were locked on you intently. It’s working.
“Kiss me,” you whispered, your lips hovered right over his, the waft of your paced breath fanned one another. His mouth was enveloped with the cool aromatic scent of mint. You liked that a lot—it drew you in.
He froze against the white tiled wall behind him, his eyes were closed and he waited in anticipation of your lips finally meeting his. Instead, you took the liberty of snapping a mental picture. One you knew you would hang in the forefront of your mind for a very very long time, because after today, after the tones of both of your pink lips finally meshed together everything would go to shit.
And it would all be your fault.
“For someone who’s begging to kiss me you sure are taking your sweet time.”
The pads of your fingers brushed against his velvet lips as they spread wide depicting his smile, in turn you’d notice the way that very smile trickled to everyone of his features. From the dimples impaling his honey cheeks to his scrunched up nose and brows scrunched up together.
“I’m not begging,” you objected, laying against his chest—he was broad you could tell even under the dark clothes and he felt firm. All you wanted was to be cocooned in his heated touch.
Even in the scorching summer his warmth is.. a solace. You didn’t mind being consumed by it burning in the flames ignited by his touch.
“I asked. Just curious to know if you would even want to kiss me,” say no, run away, run away from me, you yelled at him in your head.
“Curious?”
You hummed, “So.. Do you wanna?”
“Kiss you?”
You hummed again, “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage. It’s just one kiss.”
“Just a kiss?” He asks a lot of questions.
“Okay,” he breathed.
There were many things you forbid yourself from submitting to at the expense of your insatious desires. This included consuming sweets past eight o’clock, drinking any type of soda, and even suppressing anything you’ve ever felt for anyone in return for the validation of others. Deep behind the rhythmic beating of your heart you knew this should’ve also included kissing him. You knew you should’ve backed off, said no, avoided him as if he was something you ran away from.
But you couldn’t help but be guided here by the pure delight of getting to have this for once. You wanted to be selfish and drown in those very desires you didn’t dare act on prior to today. Not under self-induced circumstances instead something you know could hurt him right after you pulled away from his lips.
You were a wretched person but all you think about, all you cared about was the way he inched closer towards you, rapidly closing the gap between the two of you. The only sounds bouncing off the walls were your needy pants and the thump thump which composed a song out of the beats of both of your racing hearts.
His head tilted slightly as he leaned in, his eyes explored every inch of your face taking in every depiction of your features. And no matter how many times you could attempt to hide it—he would know. He could clearly see the birth of the flames rampant behind the tones of your eyes.
He nudged his nose against yours, and your mouths fell together, soft and open. You closed your eyes instantly and they felt heavy, almost as if your eyelids were glued together. Though, you urged to open them, to live in every single second your lips remained connected with his, because you knew this wasn’t likely to happen again. Not after today. Not ever.
You couldn’t help but want to bear witness to the perfectness of your lips dancing against one another.
His mouth was silken, you found yourself melting into his body, into his lips, into his touch. Nobody had ever kissed you with the unspoken one passion he was.
No one. Certainly not your boyfriend.
You allowed yourself to become drunk under his trance and he fed the butterflies flapping their wings against the lining of your stomach rapidly.
You wanted to camp in the fondness of that moment forever, and ever. and ever. . .
Vacating the stool you stood by the large windows facing the parking lot behind the library. However, your attention was clutched by the sparkling stars, it was a form of a distraction. You wanted to stop thinking of him, his gaze seizing your figure tracing the outline of your legs, the curves and dips between your hips and waist and finally the sneaky peaks of your collar bones under your crop top.
His eyes were hard to read making it impossible to decipher whether he undressed you or condemned your being.
Though, you knew you deserved the latter.
“Words were never my weapon,” you whispered the fib hoping that you would believe it if you heard it outloud. It didn’t work.
He chuckled, “right. . your lips were the blades that pierced my heart and your words were the bullets that finished me off.”
“Jungkook. .” you trailed off.
“What?” he spat, “can’t handle the truth?”
Fuck, that hurt but you deserved it.
“Jungkook, just shut up.”
But his back was already turned towards you and his eyes no longer scanned you like you were the phrases typed on the pages of his favorite book.
“I’m so. .” you began but you just couldn’t get it out.
“There it is again,” Jungkook shook his head, clicking his tongue.
“That’s not what I meant,” you sighed, collecting your thoughts why did you always manage to say the wrong fucking thing, “I’m just trying to apologize to you for. . everything.”
“Right. . now?” he wore a puzzled expression, his eyes squinted with skepticism. Back in highschool Jungkok was quiet, shy and mysterious. He could’ve easily flown under the radar and lived his life in the seclusion of being a wallflower. But then you happened. You in that bathroom, on his lap with his lips on yours.
Even now, years later, you could still feel their phantom softness on yours.
You played with the loose thread on the hem of your top averting the scrutiny of the judgment in his eyes, “better late than never.”
“You put me through hell and I’m supposed to act as if all is forgiven. Today, because you can no longer live with that guilt?” there was a smirk plastered on his face while traces of venom laced his words.
“That’s not the reason why…”
“Then, why… Why?”
Words failed to roll off the tip of your tongue, and there was a cloud of shame hanging over your head but Jungkook was resentful and cold with his words and you knew that at this point your apology would do nothing to fix what was already broken. Nevertheless, you stood there like a child being scolded because the least you could do was be the receiver of his resentment.
“Are you looking for a shot at self redemption? To feel better about yourself? Or maybe the guilt really is eating you bit by bit. Whatever it may be I don’t forgive you and I never will. You wanna know why? Because unlike others I’m not convinced that people like you can change,” he continued, there was a rampant anger burning in his eyes now, “you look back on our time in high school and feel this sense of. . relief that you were who you were. There is not an ounce of your being that would go back and change things and if we were to turn back time you would still choose to be the viper who could go around injecting your venom into others at free will. I know you just want to leap over that stepping stone and prove to yourself that you have grown-up but you can’t fool me and you will not make an example out of me.”
“That’s not. .” you drifted off, tears swelled behind your eyelids but you blinked them away, “That’s not why I wanted to do Jungkook. .”
“No?” he asked.
“No,” you muttered through gritted teeth, mad at your past self for being a piece of shit, mad at him for not allowing you to speak, mad at life. Everything.
“You want me to forgive you?”
You remained quiet.
“Then, beg.”
“You know what?” You quickly wiped the tear that trickled down your heated cheek, “I actually did mean to apologize but I’m not sure that you actually deserve it anymore.”
They say what comes around goes around and you were certain this was the circle of justice you would forever be looped in the extent of your interactions with Jungkook because, this is pretty much how they always played out. He would never forgive you and you would never be able to form the right words to ease the pain of what you have caused. There wasn’t anything that you could do or say.
Things would always remain this way.
He turned away from you once again, “if I don’t deserve your apology that only proves you don’t deserve my forgiveness.”
You looked at the clock on the opposite wall, it was now finally thirty minutes past nine and you were due to go home. To be embraced by the comfort of your sheets, to bask in their warmth, something less chilling than his frigid words.
Grabbing your bag you slipped past him hoping that you would now stoop to becoming nothing but an insipid wallflower.
Entirely, invisible. That’s all you wanted to be.
Fucking invisible.
Your cloak of invisibility was short lived because as soon as you crossed the threshold to your dorm you were met with a crowded living room. Amongst the faceless features of the random strangers spread out in the tiny space you spotted a similar face belonging to the biggest pain in your ass and roommate adjacent, Hobi.
You trudge through the ocean of bodies, resisting the sway of the waves leading to bump to those in your way, simply wanting to get as far away from whatever this was as soon as possible. When Hobi’s eyes finally met yours you signaled him towards using your pointer finger—quickly, his smile dropped, beads of sweat adorned his temples and his head hung low.
A party on a Monday was… Definitely, Hobiesque.
With paced strides he stumbled towards you following you down the small corridor and into your room. Hobi’s eyes hung low, the buttons on his shirt hung open all the way down to the pit of his stomach, his cheeks were red and puffy, his hair the right amount of disheveled, and he had a tight grasp on a nearly empty red solo cup (it definitely didn’t look like it was his first or last drink). The lights were dimmed but even under the shitty lighting there was a bright glimmer outlining his figure.
“Now, before we begin this intervention,” his words were a bit slurred, “I had a really shitty day.”
“Yeah, that makes two of us,” you hung your bag on the hook behind the door and threw your keys on the desk.
He slumped down on your bed and stared up at the ceiling with a blank expression—you weren’t sure if the shift in his usual energetic charisma was due to the alcohol but you didn’t like it. You were so used to seeing his heart shaped lips spread into wide curves showcasing the amiability of his colorful personality.
“Okay, which one of us should go first?” he asked.
“Don’t you have a party to get back to?” you sat by the pillows on the bed, your back leaning against the headboard, your legs pressed up against your chest as you laid your head on your knees.
“I’ll get back in a minute,” he replied nonchalantly, “just tell me about your day.”
Hobi laid his head closer to your legs, quickly you found your fingers combing through the dark strands with a thin layer of sweat. There was a cool draft slipping in the room through the window left slightly ajar. The bittersweet flashes of your time in that library behind the main desk played back in your mind.
“I saw… spoke to Jungkook tonight,” your voice was soft, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear. You and Hobi have been friends since your senior year in school and while he wasn’t there for the horrid days of your freshman year tyranny you confessed to everything you had done during those dark days—everything that happened with Jungkook.
“Spoke?”
You nodded.
“You two have the same work study you’ve spoken to each other before right?”
“Yeah, but our conversations are always reduced to nonsensical banter. He pushes my buttons and I push his, sometimes we even land a few jabs at each other when the other isn’t looking but today,” you felt at ease sitting there in Hobi’s company, the only noise surrounding the two of you came from the booming of the loudspeaker stationed in the living room, “…it was personal.”
“How personal?” he continued peering up at you with idle eyes.
“I tried to apologize for, well you know.. everything,” you sighed, “and things didn’t really go as planned. Stupid of me I know.”
“Definitely, not stupid. You tried to make things right. There’s no harm in that,” his thumb rubbed your hand softly as it wrapped around your shins.
“There was definitely a lot of harm done.”
“You’re right,” he mumbled, “what you did is not justified, but all that matters is that you are trying to make things right and we can only hope he is willing to forgive.”
Jungkook’s vicious words played on a continuous loop in your head. He was not willing to forgive. He never would be and sincerely you couldn’t blame him for him.
This guilt.
It will eat you alive and as a result you will experience a slow and excruciating death. A well deserved demise and one that became written in the stars for you the moment you kissed him in that fucking bathroom.
Still, a timid smile slowly creeped on your lips. Hobi’s hopefulness is your safety net, the only thing you could ever need to keep pushing forward.
“Enough about me and my self-inflicted issues,” you cleared your throat, “what’s got you so down today, sunshine?”
“We broke up.”
You laid beside him on your bed, reaching down taking his hands into yours hoping he’d feel the same deal of comfort you do by him.
“What happened?” you offered.
“I was in my dance practice and he—“ he paused, “he just fucking texted me. Said he couldn’t do it anymore.”
“Did something happen before all of this?”
“We’ve been on a bumpy road lately,” he hesitated before continuing—you guessed it was because he was trying to structure his thoughts, “two dancers dating bring a conflict of interest into a relationship.”
“Please tell me you guys aren’t just fighting over your choreography.”
He remained silent before continuing.
“You two are going to send me into cardiac arrest,” you shook your head, “I need details, Jung.”
“Don’t call me, Jung,” Hobi poked out his lower lip, frowning, “makes me feel like I’m in trouble.”
“I can’t be mad at you when you’re so adorably tipsy,” you pinched his rosey cheeks.
“Stoooop,” he swatted your hand away from his face while stretching out the letter ‘O,’ “I’m being serious though. I think it’s really over between Jimin and I, forreal this time.”
“You’ve said that every other time the two of you have broken up over dance.”
“Right. .” he yawned, cozying up under your sheets while his eyes began to close.
“Oh, no,” you smacked him upside the head with one of your cushions, “get up and go host your little party.”
He brushed it off turning before turning away from you, his soft snores now a remix to the music playing just outside of your door, “who the fuck throws a party on a Monday. . Hoseok, get up!”
“I know, you’re so irresponsible for letting me throw a party on a weekday.”
“Bitch.”
As it turns out, kicking people an hour after a party had started wasn’t as easy as it looked. Leaning against the front door you finally came face to face with the mess left behind. The music still played, though, much lower now and there was an array of empty beer cans, red solo cups and other waste decorating your living room.
It was as if you were standing in front of the mirror looking back at yourself, you were nothing but a mess of a human being. It was uncanny.
Although, this mess you could clean, and you would, you weren’t sure if Jungkook would ever allow you to pick up all of those broken pieces that you had shattered all of those years ago.
For what it’s worth you really wanted to try. You wanted to make things right.
It is now Tuesday and the weather is horrid.
The last time you checked, the forecast called for scattered showers and mostly cloudy days. But, now it’s one in the afternoon and as you settle down on the bench by your bay window overlooking the narrow street, the sky was overtaken by the torrent clouds weeping viciously accompanied by the occasional strikes of loud thunder.
Usually, when the weather looked as shitty as you felt you opted for staying home and becoming enveloped in the comfort and warmth of your sheets, today would have been no different but of course luck is never present in the deck of cards paving your life, also having an irresponsible roommate usually doesn’t help in any way.
“Please, don’t forget my ginger ale,” he coughed dramatically, running his hand through his disheveled hair, “I can’t believe I feel like literal shit.”
“You can’t believe it?” You sneered, “you drank half of your alcohol supply before I even made it home and the party had only been on for like thirty minutes.”
“Fuck, I did that. Didn’t I?”
“You did,” you playfully yanked your covers off his body, “you drunk fuck.”
“That was my nickname in highschool,” he smiled.
“It was,” you zipped up your rain jacket and grabbed the umbrella sitting on your desk, “now go take a hot bath and don’t throw any more parties while I’m gone.”
You heard his infectious giggles as you closed the front door behind you. The two of you lived on the third floor so the walk down the stairs to the lobby wasn’t too unbearable. Through the clear doors of the main entrance in the rain you saw how the downpour fogged up the path ahead. Namseok’s Kitchen is only a five minute walk, you can do this.
Walking out you opened your umbrella and stood still for just one minute paralized by the pitter patter of the droplets meeting your umbrella.
It was the beat to a dreadful song you knew too well.
You pushed past the blue metal doors of the gymnasium. Your nostrils are no longer consumed by the smell of sweat and dirty laundry and the muffled conjunction of laughter, voices, bouncing balls, and whistles died out the minute the door closed behind you.
Gym class was a drag and there was truly nothing worse than an hour long class period with sweaty kids in such a tiny space. Usually, you opted for walking on the track for the duration of class but that option became futile the moment it began to pour an hour ago.
In fact it was still raining, but you stood under the navy awning covering you from becoming soaked. Your eyes are closed and you lean against the red brick wall inhaling the scent of petrichor, the resulting smell of the parched earth just as the pouring rain continues to beat anything standing right below it. The sweet aromas seeped into the air sweeping past your nose with the soft breeze that blew by.
It was as if the earth had exhaled, emanating its distinct fragrance from millions of pinpoints all at once. Inside that smell, the seconds slowed and each moment seemed to dilute. It filled you with relief.
Then, suddenly the remnants of your heaven became blurred and the walls holding up the roofs began to tumble down and with it a whiff of nicotine became tangled in your nose.
Your eyes shot open and there he was, Jungkook. The boy you’d kissed a week ago in the boy’s bathroom.
“Cigarettes are bad for you, you know..” You felt a knot in the pit of your stomach as soon as he turned. You heard what happened to him but you hadn’t gotten around to seeing him yet, you’d been avoiding him.
“Yeah, I keep thinking I’ll quit and I can’t seem to make it past a couple of hours,” he was honest and he smiled, two characteristics you thought had died the moment your boyfriend’s fist met his face. He still had a soft purple bruise under his eye to prove it.
“You need something else to get your mind off of it.”
He threw the butt of the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it to put it out and leaned right beside you on the wall. Up close you saw a deep gash on the apples of his cheek, it was still red but stitched up.
“I know.”
“Are you really littering right now?” You eyed the discarded smoke under the tip of his chunky combat boots.
“Right, sorry miss president of ‘i love earth’ or whatever,” he bent over, picking it up and placing it in the pocket of black jeans, similar to the ones he wore that day minus the rips around the thighs.
“It’s actually called, ‘advocates for planet earth’ for your information.”
“I love earth sounds better,” he shrugged, “should consider the name change.”
“I’ll bring it up in our next meeting.”
“I’m surprised,” Jungkook began, his eyebrows furrowed together and you could tell he was in a mental battle to continue, “that he lets you join cute little nerdy clubs.”
Twenty minutes before you entered the boys bathroom last Thursday, you and your friends sat in the library during study hall, your homework long forgotten and with continued complaints of loud talking all of you had settled for a game of quiet dare or die.
The set-up was easy.
There were two piles out in-front of you, one die, one dare. The object of the game created by your friends was to choose a dare and record yourself completing it before the end of the school day or else you’d have to do something even more embarrassing from the die pile.
Your dare was to graffiti the side of the school. A bit excessive, compared to the other ones which only called for kissing each other, going against school dress code for the rest of the day or skipping the last period.
Ditching the crumpled up paper you chose a die deciding that whatever it was at least it probably wouldn’t come at the expense of being expelled.
‘Kiss Jeon Jungkook (loser)’ it read.
You could’ve said no but you didn’t. Instead you fed into the taunts of the very boy you’d find your eyes lingering after. The same boy who occupied your thoughts day and night, the same one who kissed you like no one else has and whose touch (though, brief)—permanently marked a trail of goosebumps only he could procure.
“He doesn’t control me, Jungkook.”
“He doesn’t,” Jungkook nodded, registering every gravity of your words which felt heavy on his tongue. If your boyfriend didn’t control you then that meant you had also dealt a hand at the countinuously fucked-up encounters between him and your boyfriend. But this also finally cemented the idea that you had kissed him willingly; you saw it in the way his eyes sparkled even when the sun had been hibernating for the duration of the day.
He seemed to have finally realized that both of those could be true. That love and pain could dance together hand in hand when it came to the two of you.
Your eyes scanned his chocolate ones, slowly reaching up using the pads of your finger to caress his cheek. They were full and warm and you were careful not to inch too close to the purple and green-ish spot under his eye.
“Will you believe me if I tell you something?”
“Tell me.”
“I really did enjoy that day.” You clarified, “our kiss despite what I said afterwards.”
He chuckled, “hopefully saying me too doesn’t get me another black eye.”
The tightness in your chest squeezed tighter and immediately you felt like you couldn’t breathe. When Jungkook was around you felt as if your heart and mind collided against each other and you were left in a daze, castaway in your own body and mind. Like, right now, your brain urged you to walk away and get as far away as possible from him but your heart called out to him and down that same path it set out a route leading to his silken lips.
Your heart beat to a deep crescendo nearly synching to the sound of the beating rain against the awning just overhead.
“Shouldn’t you be getting back to class?”
Snapping out of your daydream you replied, “uh, yeah, I should get back.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll see you around.”
Jungkook smiled, “I’ll see you around.”
The hefty winds blew your umbrella yet you remained in the same exact spot just a couple of feet away from the entrance to the dorm building. You were drenched from head to toe causing your gray sweats and hoodie to stick to you all while they weighed you down. Although you were inclined to move away from the droplets adorning your figure, your legs just would not submit to the command.
The smell, the dark skies, and the feeling of the rain on your skin all ignited a sense of familiarity, contentment yet melancholiness.
There were too many feelings jumbled into one.
“If you stand here, like this, you’ll end up sick.”
You hadn’t realized your eyes were closed until the moment his voice overshadowed the roaring screams of the pouring rain. Jungkook’s outfit mimicked yours slightly but even you could admit he looked much better than you. He wore gray sweats and a gray hoodie draped off his shoulder over a white wife beater. His tattoos peeked through outlining the beginning of the sleeve following the length of his extremity down to his fingers.
He’s breathtaking, he’s always been.
“I wasn’t aware that my well-being was any of your concern.”
Jungkook combed his slender digits through his jet black hair inching closer to you until his umbrella covered the both of you, “it doesn’t,” he said, “ I just figured you were either drunk or too much of an idiot to be out in this storm.”
“Well, in that case that makes us two idiots standing out in this weather.”
“I was not out. I’m not crazy,” he cleared his throat, “I just so happen to see you through my dorm window.”
He came down for you, “yet here you are now.”
“Need I remind you, if I wasn’t, you’d still be out here getting soaked.”
“Soaked,” you snickered.
“Grow up,” his voice was laced with annoyance but the rose tint on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know.
“Where did my umbrella even go?”
He pointed to your feet where your Converse swam in a puddle and there was your unbrella was looking as fucked up as ever. Immediately, you made a mental note to never buy umbrellas at the dollar store ever again. You supposed that’s the only thing you were good at; making one wrong decision after the other.
You huffed, “ah, I’m okay. It’s okay, I got it from here.”
“Were you going somewhere?”
“You don’t have to help me, Jungkook,” you didn’t dare look at him because Jungkook was good at one thing, it was peeling back at your layers with his piercing eyes. He made you feel vulnerable—bare. And you always feared the psychedelic enchantment wiring in your brain whenever he looked in your direction.
Back then that was your excuse for not helping him, for not being a better human being. It was a shitty excuse, you know that now but you always feared your willingness to succumb to your hearts’ cries.
You feared falling into him—falling for him.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” He laughed, “just lead the way. I have nothing better to do anyway.”
“I was just going down the street to Namseok’s Kitchen to get Hobi some chicken noodle soup. He isn’t feeling too well this morning.”
“That’s only a five minute walk,” he nodded toward the path ahead, “Let’s go.”
Five minutes felt like an eternity as the two of you walked towards your destination in utter silence. The street was pretty empty—only Jungkook, yourself and the rain remained. . And your thoughts, of course. They ran at record speed as you tried to relive every single moment from your past, you know; divulging in all the good times and wanting to fix every fucked up thing you’ve ever done.
If only you could turn back time you’d make things right.
In an attempt to skip another puddle, to prevent your socks from becoming sodden you accidentally moved closer to Jungkook and your elbow brushed against his. The feeling wasn’t foreign to you and it transported you to those nights, all of those moment when your bodies were so close you could smell the soap he’d used that morning, cardamom and vanilla, the scent still lingered around in your nose and you wondered if you were just hallucinating or if he actually still used the same soap.
“While you order I’ll get us something hot,” he walked you to the glass door of the small diner, then turned towards the coffee shop across the street.
“Jungkook!” You called out and he looked back in your direction, “Hold on,” you dug in your pocket reaching for a ten dollar bill, “Here.”
“Just worry about the soup and get one for yourself. Your body will thank you tomorrow morning,” he shouted back.
He disappeared into the shop as cars sped by in his shadow. You almost didn’t believe he was just right there. With you. Was he?
The bell on top of the door chimed as you walked into the restaurant, the squishing sound of your drenched shoes against the white tile bounced off of the baby blue walls. As you walked closer to the counter you wrapped yourself in a tight embrace to provide yourself with some warmth against the blasted AC. The place has always been light on decoration and made to feel more homey than anything else. There was a faux wall with photographs of customers hanging from loose thread, next to that there was a small circular table where the polaroid and its film was stationed. The remaining walls held all sorts of artworks in different shades of azure from Seokjin’s boyfriend, and Hobi’s brother, Namjoon. Towards the front was your favorite place, a bench stationed in-front of the floor to ceiling glass window.
Namjoon approached the register, “oh no, what the fuck did he do now?”
“He threw a party and woke up sick as fuck. I was just coming to get him some soup. He’s said he would puke anything else.”
“And that little shit made you walk?” Seokjin walked up behind Joon taking a seat on the stool beside him. “Look at you…” he motioned towards you and you took a look at yourself in the circular mirror hung behind the two guys, a fucking mess, “you’re all wet. Did he make you come here alone?”
Before you even had the chance to answer Jinnie continued, “I’m going to kill him. You hear me?” He turned towards his boyfriend, “I am going to kill your brother.”
Joon mumbled, “I might just join you.”
“Before your two go on a killing spree…” you leaned against the wooden surface of the counter, “I kind of offered because I felt bad for his dumbass.”
“He still let you come all the way down here in this weather and that is enough to plan a crime,” Seokjin hissed, “Joonie will you get her a towel from the back?”
Joon disappeared behind the beaded curtain.
“Okay, so one soup for the idiot and one for you?”
You nodded, “yes, chicken noodle soup please. Can you make that three though?”
“Who’s the third one for?” He raised an eyebrow staring you down like you had an intimate secret you were keeping from him. Well, technically, you were keeping some things to yourself but you weren’t lying just withholding the truth. It wasn’t the same thing.
“It’s for the person who accompanied me here today.”
“And who is that?” Joon asked, they were both overprotective, like older brothers, “you only have one friend and unfortunately I am related to him.”
“Not a friend. . Just someone I know.”
They hummed in unison exchanging suspecting looks between one another. Then, the bell on top of the door chimed once again, the same way it did when you walked in. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, his scent gave him away immediately.
“Hi, welcome to Namseok’s kitchen,” Jin greeted him.
“Hey,” he walked deeper into the restaurant until he finally stood right next to you as you continued drying off, “here. I got us lemongrass tea. I didn’t know what you like so I figured I get you the same as me.”
Grabbing the to-go cup from his hand, you reply, “yeah, I like lemongrass tea.”
You took a sip, basking in the heat of the piping hot liquid as it traveled down your throat and into your tummy. A tired whimper escaped your lips, as you became entirely immersed in the flavors of the lemony taste exploding on your tongue. There was silence around you but you could feel three sets of eyes on you and instantaneously your eyes shot open.
“I almost forgot Jin, Joon, this is Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Jin and Joon, Hobi’s brother and brother in law.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” Jinnie smiled in his direction and Joon followed suit, “Jungkook..” He repeated, “why does your name sound so familiar?”
“I went to highschool with Hobi and..” he pointed at you, avoiding even the utterances of your name. There was no disgust lingering in his face but then again his expression was unreadable and you were sure he was masking his true feelings at the expense of the two men in front of you.
“I knew it,” he clasped his hands together but as soon as you saw the thoughts wiring in his head and connecting together you shook your head to prevent him from continuing. Thankfully, he understood immediately, “yeah, I thought I had seen you before.”
Jungkook also connected the dots because Jin hadn’t been in high school at the same time he was. Jinnie was three years older than you guys were and by the time he and Hobi had moved into town Seokjin had already graduated. But he was now aware that you had mentioned him in passing—now he knew that you had to have mentioned something about that time.
“I’m going to go check on those soups,” Jin announced walking back towards the kitchen, “Joon, come on join me.”
You walked past Jungkook with the brown cup held tightly in your grasp before taking a seat on the bench by the front window. The storm still ran rampant outside and the streets remained barren. Jungkook sat two tables down, near the wall, far away from you.
“Do I owe you anything for the tea?” You mumbled holding up the cup in his direction.
“I told you to not worry about it..”
“I didn’t know Seokjin would bring that up,” you didn’t look at him, eyes lulled by your dusty white converse, “I didn’t know he would remember you.”
“Just forget about it,” he shook his head, “you don’t need to explain.”
“No, I feel like I do.”
“You don’t.”
“Jungkook, please let me,” your eyes watered and your voice faltered.
He sighed, taking a small sip of the tea before continuing, “please don’t explain. I don’t need an explanation. I have buried it all, it still lives in my head but it’s buried and I don’t need to resurrect the tsunami of emotions that comes along with that..” he pointed at his temples, “it’s still here but please do not awaken them. I don’t want to brush the brush off of those memories.”
You two were the only people in the shop but you knew Joon and Jin were behind one of the walls eavesdropping. It was silent and the only noise in the small space was the whirring of the AC.
“Are our good memories also buried somewhere?” You knew better than to ask but you needed to know.
“I put those to rest first,” he admitted and your heart sank, “those memories, although good, were an incitement to everything else that lingered right behind. I had to get rid of those memories to get rid of everything else.”
“Okay,” tears were beginning to swell up in the corners of your eyes and you tried your best to blink them away, “yeah, that’s okay. I understand why you had to do that.”
“I’m sorr—” Jungkook began.
“Don’t, please, you’re not the one who should be apologizing to me. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you do that.”
The bell at the front desk chimed, ripping your attention away from Jungkook. Seokjin stood behind the counter holding two paper bags, “order’s up.”
Walking up you thanked him and grabbed the bags, “thanks. I’ll have Hobi venmo you for this.”
“Don’t even worry about it,” he smiled softly, “free lunches till you guys graduate remember. That goes for you too now, Jungkook.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” he handed him the smaller bag, “I mean it. I better see you around here more often.”
“Thank you,” he smiled brightly, the kind of smile you hadn’t seen him wear in years. It was radiant and lit up his face with warmth. The indents on his cheek were deep and they framed his rose lips like they were a work of art. Not even the silver hoop piercing his bottom lip shone as brightly as he did when he smiled. You almost forgot how good it looked on him and you couldn’t help but stand there and admire him taking mental pictures to keep forever.
He deserves someone better. Someone who’s going to make him smile like that until the end of time. Someone who wasn’t you.
“And thank you for coming along with her since Hobi couldn’t.”
“It’s no problem.”
“I would offer you guys a ride back home but Jin and I walked to work today. Guess we didn’t really think things through either.”
“It’s okay, Joon,” you zipped up your rain coat and pulled the hood over your head, “it’s only a five minute walk back.”
After thanking Jin and Joon, the two of you exited the store and cut in through the alley way before landing on the road leading back to the dorms. Once again, the two of you stood dangerously close to one another radiating off each other’s body heat and before you knew it the building came into view and Jungkook led you up the walkway leading you to the main door. You didn’t want to let him go. You didn’t want him to leave you but it’s not like you could actually say that.
You were a mere burden jumbled into bad memories and the worst years of his life.
“Thank you for coming along,” you pushed the thoughts although you don’t think you could ever really get rid of them.
“No thanks needed. I couldn’t let you take the trip on your own, especially not in this weather.”
He couldn’t let you. Your heart began to race as you tried to keep yourself from reading too much into his words. They probably didn’t mean anything… But what if he still cared? What if Jungkook still cared about you?
“See you around.” He nodded before heading off in the direction of his dorm.
I shouldn’t have said anything.
You turned around, but Jungkook was no longer near. His back was turned in your direction as he continued trotting down the sidewalk. Great! Now you’re hearing voices, after reaching for the metal door handle the voices reappeared.
Our memories are flavored in bitterness but I still can’t get her off my mind.
Jungkook was gone.
The thing about rumors is that they spread like wildfires and no matter how hard you work to extinguish that fire it is always too little too late. That’s how you felt as soon as you crossed the threshold from the bathroom and into the congested hallways. Everyones prying eyes read you so intently condemning you for the hypocrisy of allowing someone like Jungkook to permanently ink his lips on yours. The passionate dance the two of you composed left behind the imprints of his lips as he tattooed your skin with each one of the pecks he left behind.
Your phone buzzed in the back pocket of your jeans. You pulled it out, unlocking it, quickly seeing the photo your friend had snuck of you on his lap pop up. Your mouths devour one another and your bodies pressed together closely while your hand rests on his shoulder.
You wanted to frame it—live in the pixels of that picture forever.
‘Death complete bitch.’ Your best friend’s text read below the photo, ‘I can’t believe you actually kissed him.’
‘I can’t believe I did it either.”
‘What was it like?’
The worst part about it is that it had to come to an end. Your mind traveled an hour back and you recall the velvet feel of his lips as they moved against yours mimicking the softness of clouds. At the sametime his tongue was saccharine tasting of the sweetness of strawberries and maple syrup leading you to guess he had either waffles or pancakes for breakfast that morning.
All you wanted was to run back into that bathroom.
‘Nothing memorable. Just glad it’s over.’
‘Don’t worry you won’t ever have to kiss him again.’
Yeah, that was the fucking problem. You wanted to kiss him again, preferably you wanted to kiss him forever.
‘Yeah, thankfully.’
You didn’t know when that kill switch that made you a complete and utter bitch was flipped on, but all you remember were those calamitous days when you didn’t really know who you were and who you were meant to be. Those days were marked with pen squiggles, they were blurred and you chose to permanently turn the light off and lock the door behind you in that section of your brain.
Middle school was rough to say the least. But that was the beginning of your novel and you knew perfectly well who you were now.
You had the friends you did because they made you look good, you had the clothes you did because you had a reputation to uphold and you had the boyfriend you did because someone like you is supposed to be with someone like him. Those were the simple unspoken rules of high school and at first they were easy to follow until they weren’t.
Everything was simple until that summer before freshman year. The day you visited the park near your house and you spotted him, with his chunky black boots and signature black outfit matching his jet black hair. The two of you were only fifteen then but he already had a tattoo on his wrist peeking out of the sleeve of his crewneck, back then he didn’t have his lip piercing—not yet at least.
“I thought you only hung out in abandoned buildings and sketchy alley ways,” you remembered telling him that and the two of you spent hours on those swings talking the afternoon away. Back then, you learned Jungkook was a gentle giant disguised in an intimidating disguise. He was thoughtful in the way he looked at life and dreamt about the future, he was caring in the way that he spoke about nature, tattoos, music and everything else he held a deep passion for and lastly, he was attentive in the way he listened to you thoroughly drinking in every detail you had shared.
That was the Jungkook that made you fall for him in the blink of an eye but back then you didn’t know who he was and you were certainly not made aware of how things would end up.
The bell dismissing you from your last period class snapped you right out of your thoughts and you dashed out the door of the classroom wanting nothing more than to escape home and be left alone to bask in your thoughts.
“There’s a fight outside!” a few students called out running past you.
“Let’s go!” someone else yelled across the hallway.
You were nervous to ask but you did anyway, “fight? Who’s fighting?”
“Your boyfriend’s fighting someone,” a girl you didn’t quite recognize replied, “Jungkook, or something like that I think.”
By the time you made it to the parking lot there was already a crowd of people forming a circle around both boys. Jungkook held his bloody nose while your boyfriend clenched and unclenched his hand, likely to relieve the pain of hitting Jungkook. You ran in their direction but as you neared them you saw as the boy you called yours landed another punch on Jungkook’s face causing him to fall back on the concrete.
He didn’t fight back, didn’t even respond to the other boy’s insult. He just sat on the ground holding his face waiting for it all to be over.
“Hey,” you finally reached him, shoving him back to prevent another callous attack on the boy behind you, “what the fuck are you doing?”
“I saw the fucking picture,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
“The girls and I played a game of dare or death,” you explained, “it was only part of the death I had to complete. It didn’t mean anything.”
He lunged towards you and poked at your chest, “you still kissed him.”
The crowd went silent and your boyfriend’s anger highlighted the very thing you’d intended to place under lock and key—your pretty little secret no longer a secret or even pretty for that matter. You felt light headed and you weren’t sure if it was the punishing rays of the sun or the mental strain this was all causing.
You didn’t regret that kiss; you never would but you also thought that picture would stay between you and your friends.
A wave of murmurs swayed all around you and you knew your reputation was descending by the second.
You didn’t dare look at Jungkook, you knew his hypnotizing dark eyes would make you crumble. Seeing him like that. . The way he did all helpless and unprotected would compel you to care for him and cradle him in your arms until nothing or no one else could hurt him, “It meant nothing. Okay?” You heaved, “It meant nothing.”
Instead, you were dragged away from the boy your heart screamed out for.
Fuck, do I still like her?
Just shut up, Jungkook. It’s too early for this.
I shouldn’t be asking myself that. Ever.
Presently, you’ve gotten to know Jungkook for being reserved and fairly quiet, similar to how he was in high school except back then he actually spoke to you. But now, he is quiet and he doesn’t bother uttering a single word in your direction. The only times he ever addresses you is when he throws continuous jabs at you, landing every single one—he spews spiteful words of retaliation as a result of the shitty person were years ago and although you knew it was well-deserved that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Unlike his recently reserved outer shell, you quickly learned Jungkook’s mind traveled at the speed of light and for two days now, you could hear the constant battles of thoughts breaking out in his head.
Words crashed against each other; phrases were left abandoned half way through and ideas were left unfulfilled.
You groaned smacking your silk pillow over your face, your mind was exhausted on overdrive and increasingly overheating all because Jungkook couldn’t ease his thoughts and empty his mind at five in the fucking morning. Who. . Thinks this much at such ungodly hours of the morning, the sun isn’t even up yet.
The scattered clouds invaded the dark blue sky dusted in shades of purple.
Does she think of me?
I do.
Did she ever feel what I felt when we kissed?
I did—I do. I still feel it. Similar to how the sun feels on you on a hot summer day, the sparks on their ignited route as they traveled through every single inch of your skin setting it alight even today. You felt it then and you could feel it now.
Finally, his thoughts ceased and you guessed he’d probably drifted off into a slumber. He probably looked so peaceful you thought, grabbing one of your extra cushions, laid on your side and placed it in between your legs like a mommy pillow. Sleep came knocking on your door and your eyes began to feel heavy.
Jungkook probably looked like an angel as he slept. You could picture him laying in a sea of his messy sheets against his golden tone.
By the time you woke up once again, it was nine in the morning and the sun peeking in through the windows ripped you right out of your sleep.
Your room door burst open, “hey! I knew you’d be awake. What do you have planned for the day?” Hobi took a seat on the edge of your bed.
“Whatever happened to knocking? I could’ve been naked you know..”
“We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”
“Fair enough,” you laid facing the ceiling, “I wasn’t going to do much today just going to check Mr. Kim’s list. He posted it on the bulletin outside his class for our upcoming project.”
“Do you want me to make you something to eat before I go?”
“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”
He planted a soft kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be in the dance studio. You wanna come see me later?” His heart-shaped lips did very little to cover his pearly whites as he grinned, “I’ll give the front desk your name so they can let you up when you get there.”
“Please, don’t forget like last time or I’ll have to fight someone for real this time,” you said.
“Won’t,” he called out as he strutted towards the front door, “I promise. See you later.” You heard the door open and shut before you began falling asleep once again but the peace and quiet was very short lived because you heard him again.
What did I even dream about?
You wondered the same. Was he the type to dream up cute scenarios in that pretty head of his as he drifted off for the night? Did your face invade his mind in the late hours of the night? You hope you did.
Your name echoed in the basis of his mind followed by the emission of thunderous groans.
He seemed. . frustrated.
Ah, fuck. Yes, Jungkook just imagine it’s her.
The image in your head was impure as soon as you finally realized what Jungkook was actually doing. You’d imagined his hand disappearing under the base of the pyramid forming through his duvet. Stroking himself slowly, his head lolled back against his headboard, sweat glistening on his chest and forehead, while his eyes fluttered closed as his eyelashes batting away all reminders of reality.
I want her touch—need it. So bad.
You’d become too enthralled in the symphony of Jungkook’s whimpers that you hadn’t really noticed the death grip you had on your bed sheets as your knuckles turned white and the way your legs rubbed against each other in a desperate plea for some friction.
This was private. Jungkook needed privacy and while your mind opened a portal which prevented that, the best thing you could do was ignore him and the sensual persuasion laced in his bedroom voice, no matter how desperately he called out for you, it wasn’t right.
Ignore.
God, I would fuck her so good.
Think of something else.
With my cock buried deep inside of her. Fucking her into my mattress until she’s shaking with the overbearing stimulation of pleasure. Until, even her own name becomes a mere afterthought.
You grabbed your phone from the night stand but your lame attempt at a ‘distraction’ was useless. His words were addictive and you were already soaked right through your panties. Your sheets began sticking to your sweaty skin while Jungkook’s ardent words continued heating you up.
She would take me so well. Fuck!
A shower! That’s what you’d do—just take a cold cold shower to ease those thoughts and shut him out until he finally finishes.
You hissed as the hard pressure of frigid water hit your body from the shower head, even this wasn’t enough to mask the way your body shuddered as Jungkook continued. It was even more enticing that after everything—after his hostile gazes and cold words your face was in the forefront of his brain as he touched himself.
His alluring thoughts kept on playing one after the other and your cunt became the victim crying out to him with patterned pleas he would never hear. Your juices strolled down your inner thigh mixed in with the streaks of water and you could no longer bear the desperate thumps of aching cunt. You were going mad, honestly his stamina and self control were all to blame. The combination was torturous.
While you weren’t one hundred-percent sure of what he was doing the way his thoughts became sporadic weathering winds of pleasure and then tranquility. It was a cycle, he would be on the verge of succumbing to his peak and then all of the sudden he would stop. Before beginning once again and again and again.
The viciousness of his desire lasted until right around the time you turned the shower off and you couldn’t tell if for the past twenty minutes you had been in your own personal heaven or hell.
I hate how much I still want her.
I hate that I can’t have her.
You can have me, Jungkook. You can have me now, tomorrow and forever.
The heat was overbearing and you could feel the way your tank became soaked with sweat and the thin fabric stuck to your body. You heaved as you pushed open the glass door into the English building. Mr. Kim’s room was on the third floor and the bulletin board was stationed right next to his door. After opting out of climbing three flights of stairs you ride the elevator up and exit out to look at the posted partners for Mr. Kim’s upcoming project. Walking down the main hall you turn left and there it is—there he is.
The simplicity of his outfit was composed of a plain white tee, gray sweat shorts, and over the ankle white socks tucked into black slides. The colorful ink adorning his skin still peaked under the sleeve of his shirt, his black wavy hair rested on the nape of his neck.
The hallways were completely empty and his back still faced you so you kind of just stood there unsure of what to say or do. I mean you’d heard him masturbating just a few hours ago and while you truly did not mind even the slightest you weren’t quite sure how to even interact with him moving forward. While he seemed to despise you for the events that unfolded back in high school this morning was a complete change of events. His voice was dipped in sex as he moaned your name until he finally came.
God, why was it so hot in here? Is the AC really off mid-summertime?
“Hey,” his doe eyes stared at you, studying your off-putting exterior. Your eyes were blown wide, your tank was still soaked with sweat and you just stood there ogling him, “are you okay?”
He stepped towards you with worrisome eyes. ‘Oh yes Jungkook, I’m okay. I’m just picturing the way your hand climbs up and down the length of your dick, head tilted back, mouth slightly opened as groans form at the root of your throat. You know, the way you probably looked this morning.’
Instead you decided on a soft, “I’m okay.”
“You look like you’re about to pass out,” he placed his hand on your shoulder and you nearly fainted at the intense heat emitted from his skin to yours, “here, sit down,” he guided you to one of the lounge chairs sat opposite Mr. Kim’s class, “have you drank anything today?”
How could you kindly explain that was not the kind of thirst you were looking to quench.
“No. .” you shook your head.
“Okay, okay,” he grabbed a water bottle from the black backpack sitting at his feet. You hadn’t even noticed it before, you had been so focused on him the entire time, “here drink some.”
The bottle was half empty meaning his lips were on it and now your lips would be on it too. This wasn’t really what you meant when you said you wanted to feel his lips on yours but you didn’t really mind either.
“Yeah, sorry, I got thirsty on the way here,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I can get you one from the vending machine.”
You must’ve been looking at the bottle resting in his grasp like an idiot, “no, it’s okay Jungkook,” you rested your palm on top of his hand, “it’s not like we haven’t kissed before right?”
His eyes turned a shade darker than their usual brown and he cleared his throat, letting go of the water bottle right into your grip, “right.” he stepped back as if you were a cactus ready to nick him with one of your spines, “I was looking at the list for Mr. Kim’s class and we are partnered together with Jimin for the project.”
“Okay, should we meet at my place tonight or tomorrow? This is due this Monday,” you took a sip of the water tasting the remnants of Jungkook’s strawberry chapstick left behind on the rim.
“I have a basketball tournament due tonight but we can meet tomorrow if you’d like.”
“Tomorrow,” you repeated, “any time?”
“After four?”
“See you then.”
For the first time in forever Hoseok had actually left your name at the front desk of the studio on campus. After being left up you walked in through the double doors of the dance studio where the music blasted at highest volume and your best friend’s shoes squeaked against the shiny wooden floor as he moved throughout the room swiftly executing his choreography with perfection. Hobi was a force to be reckoned with and dance was his element.
“You’re here,” his professional and focused aura peeled back as soon as he saw you enter the room, “I need a break anyway.”
You sat on the floor with your back resting against the wall of mirrors.
“I’m here and I cannot believe I witnessed such perfection,” you clapped your hands, “I still cannot believe my best friend is talented enough to finally snatch me away from poverty.”
“You know I got us,” he sat beside you before laying his head on your lap. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat from head to toe, “but let’s not forget you chose to be poor.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice. I can’t really help having idiotic parents,” you shrugged.
“I know baby,” he cooed. Hobi was quiet which was definitely out of his usual nature where he radiated a blinding luminescent orb around his being. He fidgeted with the strings on his sweatpants and opened his mouth only to say it again.
“Hoseok, you’re anxious and it’s making me anxious. Just say what you need to say.”
You combed your fingers through his damp hair, “I saw they, your parents, left a voicemail for you last week. Did you ever get back to them?”
“No,” you sighed, “and I don’t think I want to either. Everything they tried to do and were willing to do was truly wicked and unforgivable.”
“You never told me what happened.”
“It involves Jungkook, of course, and everything we did while in high school, Yeonjun’s party the summer before senior year.”
“The one he threw the week before school started?”
“Yes.”
“To this day I still can’t remember shit about that night.”
You chuckled, “a lot of our classmates don’t remember that night at all but I do. I remember every single detail.”
He didn’t say anything so you continued.
Yeonjun’s lake house was like a maze. There were numerous narrow halls with an array of doors carved on each wall and it was the same for every single corner you’ve turned into so far. The little bit of alcohol you had began clouding your mind and you felt more intoxicated than you actually were. Your kitten heeled black sandals clacking against the hardwood floor sought a way out of this elaborate labyrinth and back to what you originally came for.
The music playing just a floor below faded as you traveled deeper and deeper into the second floor, although you could still feel the booming bass vibrating right under your feet.
You just needed a bathroom—not because you actually needed to use it but because you needed to take a minute to yourself. . to breathe. Every other corner of this house including the back and front yards and even the fucking lake are already invaded by massive seas of drunk teenagers. Their voices were too loud, the music was headache inducing and the atmosphere adopted a stench of sweat and b.o.
After ditching the red solo cup on a nearby console table, you leaned against the off-white walls closing your to block out the dim lights making you a bit lightheaded.
Seriously, who even had this many fucking rooms in one house. You mumbled.
Sure, your family was wealthy but you were nothing like the Choi family. Your parents were both doctor’s devoting their time to the tiny private practice the two of them founded but on the other hand Yeonjun’s family came from a long lineage of businessmen and they practically owned a handful of the businesses for miles and miles around.
You weren’t jealous of all of the extra zeroes attached to his parents’ net worth, you and your own lived comfortably enough to not have any financial complaints. However, his parents were more liberal and they didn’t clip his wings. They weren’t clingy or demanding and they certainly did not push anything on him that he didn’t want to do. Your parents were not this way, they were controlling, and they told you what to do and eat, who to hang out with and date. With covetous thoughts you wondered if there would ever be a point in your life where you could feel as free as Yeonjun did.
Maybe now that you’ve turned eighteen things would be different. Doubtful—your birthday was a month ago and nothing has changed. Unfortunately, you still lived under their roof and relied on their money.
You removed your shoes and hesitated whether to travel back down stairs and out somewhere into the depth of the forest but immediately erased the thought from your mind as you looked down at your bare feet, mini skirt and crop top. This wasn’t really an appropriate outfit to go off exploring the woods in the middle of the night.
The minutes continued ticking by and finally you spotted a door at the end of the opposite hallway with a vertical rectangular piece of frosted glass cut right down the middle. Your feet traveled down the heated floors before your hand reached out for the black knob; turning it slowly.
It was a rooftop balcony.
The railing was wrapped in garden lights, while two sets of black cushioned reclining beach chairs sat around a propane fire pit. There was a massive grill to the other side, a bar that would put a nightclub to shame and a huge patio furniture set.
Your eyes thoroughly scanned your surroundings before landing on the boy leaning against the rail staring at the idiots swimming in the lake below. For the first time since you met him approximately four years ago his legs were exposed under the light washed knee length jorts, he wore a white t-shirt and a pair of black and white checkered vans. Still, right up the alley of what his style embodied but you had to admit you missed his signature chunky boots.
He still hadn’t noticed you so you walked up slowly, “I never thought I’d see you at a party like this,” you whispered in his ear before jumping right beside him.
The moon rays reflected a twinkle in his dark eyes, “Yeonjun and I are cool.”
“So, why aren’t you down stairs?”
“Why aren’t you?” his gaze traveled from your black painted toes all the way up to your eyes as if he was studying you intently.
“Too crowded,” you shrugged, “and not enough room to breathe.”
Jungkook looked ahead, his vision once again consumed by the dark green and brown shades of the dense forest once again, his side profile put artworks all across the world to shame.
“Yeah, same,” he added, “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret but parties aren’t really my thing.”
“No way. . I’ve seen you at every party for the past three years,” he dramatically rolled his eyes at the sarcasm in your voice and you chuckled before continuing a bit softer, “is this your first one?”
Jungkook nodded, “first one I’ve been invited to and the first I’ve ever attended too.”
“We’re breaking records tonight aren’t we.”
“I guess I’m feeling a bit audacious.”
You sneered, “audacious? Big word.”
“Don’t tell me you think I’m stupid like the rest of our classmates. .”
“I did my internship in the main office last year which included sealing report cards and sending them off,” he walked to one of the chairs and laid on it placing both of his palms under his head. Was he flexing? Couldn’t be. “You’ve practically taken every AP class offered at our school and aced all of them too. It’s a miracle how you have managed.”
“What can I say?” he smiled and his cheeks rose like two loaves of bread in an oven, “I’m all brains baby.”
“Brains and beauty,” you corrected.
“I can’t also be ‘beauty’ when you’re here; living, breathing, being,” Jungkook is the personification of all of your desires and his aura worked hard to draw you closer and closer in his direction no matter how hard you worked to stay away, for his sake. Even when you tried to repel away from him the gravitational force he exuded called out your name and your tympanum became inundated by the wails of his being.
Only he lived in your thoughts.
The video-like memories you have shot of him throughout the years loop in your mind day and night. It was dizzying but you didn’t want it any other way.
“You are beautiful,” you let your thoughts roll off your tongue freely—too tipsy to care and too enthralled by his striking features to lie about what you truly felt. What you’ve been working so hard to suppress for the past few years. You were tired of hiding, so fucking tired, “with your big beautiful eyes, and your cherry lips and rosey cheeks and all of these tattoos,” you carried on, “oh, and those piercings. Don’t you know that Jungkook?”
He was flushed and his head became tilted down as he played around with the silver rings on his fingers, “know what?”
“That you are more beautiful than life itself.”
Jungkook scooched over on the chair and patted the empty space beside him inviting you to sit near him and you did. He laid on his side while his face rested on his left palm.
“Are you drunk?” he asked.
“I only had two sips of Hobi’s drink,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, “I’ve been on cranberry juice most of the night.”
“So this is not a case of drunken words you’ll forget once the sun comes up?” he leaned in closer and you could see the faint freckles dancing on his cheeks and on the bridge of his nose.
His eyes sparkled projecting bright constellations never before seen in the heavens, “I could never forget anything about you.”
“You know I can’t believe that right?”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ve forgotten about me for the past year,” he smiled devilishly, “you haven’t spared me the time of day. I’ve missed your sneaky glances. The way you’d drop your pencil half way through algebra just to bat those pretty eyelashes in my direction kind of like you are now.”
“I didn’t do that just to look at you,” you clutched the thin gold chain hanging from his neck, guiding him closer to you, “I was just genuinely clumsy.”
“I’m just saying it’s funny how the pencil always fell in my direction,”
“Forget the pencil, Jungkook,” shivers cascaded down your back as his lips hovered over yours—his breath fanning against them. The aroma of lemon, and mint, with woody and balsamic undertones tickled your nostrils.
Jungkook shook his head, his eyes remained on your lips as you swiped your tongue along them, “it’s not about the pencil?”
“It’s not,” you added, tucking the few strands of hair that framed his face behind his ear. You just wanted to lay there with him forever, to be consumed by the warmth of his embrace, to lose yourself in the tenderness of his kisses, to wake up next to him tomorrow and also every single day after that.
“So just admit you wanted to lo—”
You lips landed on his and finally you remembered just how magical kissing Jungkook was except unlike that day in school the bathroom, today, it wasn’t a game. You were there on your own free will and you didn’t care who was around to see. The only concern clouding your mind was how much more of him you craved. The way your mouths moved each other made you feel inebriated, even more than alcohol ever could and you weren’t afraid to admit his lips had you addicted.
The silver metal hoop hung onto the corner of his lip felt cold, but so good in comparison to his heated kisses. Despite where you were or how many people currently invaded Yeonjun’s house it felt like you and Jungkook were the only two people on the entire planet. Just the two of you with your lips dancing on each other with the moon and the stars baring as your only witnesses.
Jungkook pulled away slowly—panting slightly, “please shut me up like that more often,” he held your face, resting his forehead on yours and pecking your lips continuously, “tell me you’ll do it. Tell me you’ll always kiss my stupidity away.”
You nodded, “Jungkook, how about I kiss you like that always and forever. Not only because of your stupidity as you call it but just because.”
“Are you trying to confess something?”
He sat across from you on the beach chair taking your legs onto his lap, his soft hands massaged the soles of your feet. You swallowed back the guttural groan riding up your throat melting deeper into the chair due to his therapeutic touch. His fingers moved higher and higher up the length of your extremities, halting right above your knees, yet he continued kneading his fingers into your skin.
“Tell me.”
You hummed.
“I need you to be an open book with me. What are you looking to confess?”
Your eyes remained closed as he continued touching you gently—almost feather-like, “Jungkook, I can’t really think when you’re doing that. .”
“Should I stop?”
“No, please,” you pant.
He continued kneading your thighs, “tell me.”
From the tips of his fingers currents of electricity trickled onto your skin, “ah, fuck. .” you breathed, “I like you Jungkook. I like you. Okay?”
Hobi sat up beside you, now leaning against the mirrors as well. The sun has begun its journey towards the horizon and its rays peaked through the slightly drawn blinds, “wait so you guys. .?”
You nodded but said nothing else. That night had been a secret between you and Jungkook.
“On the roof of Yeonjun’s house during our senior year back to school bash?” The surprise in his tone was evident but you weren’t taken back by it all.
“Yes,” you smiled faintly, unwilling to hide the giddiness you felt from the memories of your time together from Jungkook, “it was our little secret. We swore to each other we wouldn’t say anything to anyone. That’s why I didn't mention anything to you before but obviously someone saw and word got out that same night.”
Hobi sighed, “don’t tell me another fight broke out between him and your dumbass ex-boyfriend.”
You shook your head, “this time it was different. I wasn’t scared of what others thought anymore. In that moment I decided I would stop caring. I wanted to stop hurting him,” your clammy hands began to shake slightly and Hobi placed his palms on top of them to stop their trembling, “that night after the party we rode around all night aimlessly. Enjoying each other’s company and truly I was the happiest I had ever been all my life. Everything went to shit as soon as I made it home and walked in through the door. My parents waited for me to get in, they sat me down and began rambling about my change in behavior and how different I had become.”
He hummed and you took that as a sign to continue.
“As soon as I sat on the chair that night they slid over my mom’s phone and there was a picture of Jungkook and I kissing on one of the longue chairs. I swear I had dejavu from freshman year.”
“Did you ever find who took the picture?”
“I never did but I always figured it was one of my ex’s minions or something,” you shrugged, “to be honest, trying to figure it out was the last thing on my mind. They started talking and talking rambling on about my personality change and rebelliance and how Jungkook was the cause of it or some shit.”
“How did they even come up with that?”
“I asked myself the same thing,” you snickered, just thinking about it even now makes your blood boil, “but it didn’t matter. Being eighteen didn’t matter; they just wanted to keep us away from each other at all costs. They made all types of threats to make me press charges and file a restraining order which I obviously refused. Then, they vowed to make his life hell if I didn’t stay away and I didn’t want to find out what they meant so I decided to comply and stay away.”
“Okay, now I’m beginning to understand why you moved in with my family half way through senior year,” his thumb rubbed circles on the dorsal side of your hand, “were they mad when you left? I used to ask my mom if your folks ever reached out but she always avoided the question.”
“They were livid but nothing they could ever say or do would ever make me stay in that place.”
“Did they manage to leave Jungkook alone?”
“Well, after the big cut-off Jungkook and I were never able to find our way back to each other,” your voice was low, almost as if you couldn’t hear yourself it just wouldn’t be true, “and I moved in with you and your mom and I completely blocked them out of my life.”
“Good. I’m glad you ditched them,” he pinched your cheeks, “you deserve better than them and their money’s no good to you anyway.”
“I just wish I would’ve kept in contact with him. Maybe tell him what was going on or something,” you scratched the back of your neck obviously frustrated at your lack of communication skills as a stupid eighteen year old. You were such an idiot—why couldn’t you open your fucking mouth?
“We all make bad decisions at one point in our lives but you had no choice, baby. You were sandwiched into the wall one bad choice up against another. You made the best decision you could with the circumstances at hand,” he snuggled closer to you, wrapping one hand around your shoulder, “don’t beat yourself up over it please.”
“I love you. Seriously, I don’t know what I would ever do without you.”
He kissed your forehead, “I love you more.”
Today Jungkook’s highway of thoughts has eased and though you liked how calm the morning has been you also kind of missed the feeling of his lingering presence—almost as if your own shadow was missing.
You despised waking up towards the early hours of the afternoon but today you couldn’t seem to peel yourself out of of your bed, until finally you couldn’t fathom the idea of napping your day away—plus couldn’t do that even if you wanted to because Jungkook and Jimin would be over in about thirty minutes to begin working on Mr. Kim’s project.
Jimin had been the middle man in this entire set-up, he had both of your numbers so he took it upon himself to text the two of your separately (because he knew you and Jungkook were physically impossible of initiating a social exchange amongst yourselves), and get you both on board with a neutral territory to meet at. Of course, Jimin’s idea of a neutral territory involved a place where he could catch glimpses of his ex strutting around which meant your apartment was his ideal meeting spot and although his thoughts hadn’t revealed anything so far you just knew Jungkook wasn’t ecstatic about this whole arrangement.
After taking a quick shower, getting dressed and setting up a plate of sliced fruits and a couple bags of snack size chips and cookies you heard a light knock on your door.
Taking a deep breath you turned the knob before pulling the door open. It was Jungkook and as always he looked breathtaking. You were beginning to think comfort was his go-to because yet again, he wore sweats and a simple t-shirt—tattoos still peeking out at you, his bottom lip still pierced with the same small silver hoop, hair half up half down and his book bag slung on his left shoulder.
Removing his headphones he stared back at you as you continued ogling him, “hey. .” he greeted in his deep tone.
Why is she staring at me like that?
Do I have a stain or something?
He looked down at his shirt but when he saw nothing he just stared back at you tilting his head slightly.
“Hi,” you stepped out of his way and he finally crossed over the threshold into your apartment, “you’re the first one here so we’re just waiting on Jimin to make it before we begin. Please sit anywhere.”
He nodded.
The apartment wasn’t necessarily big but it wasn’t small either. An open floor plan made up the space between the kitchen and living room area with a rectangular island separating the two rooms. Immediately to the right of that was the door leading to Hobi’s room, then your room sat at the end of that hall just a couple feet away and the bathroom was just across from your door.
Yet even as you walked towards the kitchen and Jungkook made strides towards the love seat in the living room you felt like the two of you were cramped in a tiny box with the temperature hiked to the highest setting. God, there were about a million things you could say or offer him but nothing could ever mend his broken heart and that was enough to keep your lips sealed tight.
Where the fuck is Jimin?
I don’t know if I can be here alone with her for much longer.
And it’s so fucking hot. I’m gonna pass out.
Fuck, you knew it. He’s upset. Though you already figured coming here was probably hard for him, you didn’t imagine it would hurt you as much as it did to actually know how much he despised being in your vicinity, but it did.
Jungkook sat rather stiffly on the couch, bag still slung on his back as if he was ready to leave, staring off into the distance while his leg bounced up and down anxiously. Strolling past him silently you nearned the thermostat and cranked the AC up higher.
That’ll literally fix nothing at all.
You turned around taking a seat on one of the accent chairs near the row of windows on the opposite end of the living room. If it wasn’t for the invasion of his thoughts, the silence would be killing you softly.
“Have you heard anything from Jimin?” he finally looked in your direction but not into your eyes instead they lingered lower—in the direction of your legs. The hunger displayed in his eyes took you back to the night before when he moaned your name so sweetly.
“Nothing,” you tapped your screen to show him the lack of texts and placing the phone back on your thigh, his gaze followed almost like he was hypnotized.
You would give anything to hear him just one more time—Fuck, just once more.
He cleared his throat, snapping out of those sinful thoughts cooking up in your head, “yeah, same. And I’ve texted him like three times.”
“I’m thinking that little shit bailed even though he planned this whole thing,” you were scared to form your thoughts into actual words, “do you want us to start or would you rather wait for him?”
He breathed out almost exasperated—damn, you should’ve kept the suggestion to yourself. You were about to take it all back but then he finally spoke up, “We’re both here now. I think we can begin and then fill him in. . If that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, I think that’s the best we can do,” did he just willingly comply with staying alone with you, “I’ll go get my notebook. Gimme one second.”
“Okay.”
Right. . Okay. Just here to get our work done. That’s all. That is all. Yeah.
You sat beside him on the couch startling him just a bit—he seemed tense, “so we’re supposed to pick a movie, and match no less than three scenes to at least one of the emotions listed.”
“I say we do the very minimum and pick the movie I’m sure we’ve all watched,” he asked, unzipping his bag and pulling out his notebook.
“Titanic?” you asked.
“No, The Blind Side,” he scoffed, “do we really want to sit here for one hundred hours just to recap the eternity that is Titanic?”
“But the emotions for Titanic are so easy to dissect; we have happiness, love, and jealousy right off the bat,” you argued, “the assignment is practically done for us already.”
“Yeah, but everyone’s going to do Titanic. We need to stand out. Be different.”
“It’s an intro to writing class. I vote for taking it easy, weren’t you just moaning about taking it easy anyway?” your tone was a bit condescending you’d admit but the way he scanned your figure was addicting. There was nothing you craved more in this world than to have his gaze drink you in as if you were his favorite drink.
“I wasn’t moaning.”
I was last night though.
You swallowed hard, biting your tongue and holding yourself back from going along with begging him to moan the way you’d heard him do so the night before. His husk groans so low and sweet, so fucking sweet, “But you were.”
“It was a suggestion. There was no moaning involved.”
“Well, maybe if you did moan I would cave and take your suggestion,” the words rolled off your tongue before you could ever stop them.
He smirked, “so you just wanna hear me moan.”
Don’t smirk.
Eternally mad at her, remember?
The internal conflict raging within him gave you at least a little bit of hope. As you mapped out the field of his thoughts you figured he wanted nothing to do with but distance himself; to be cold and standoffish but he also revealed he wanted you. He wanted you near—to hold you, kiss you, touch you.
It was confusing and headache inducing but you liked that you still lived in his mind the same way he lived in yours.
You shrugged, “maybe I do.”
“Please, don’t,” his eyes finally met yours.
Look away.
But he didn’t and you were glad he didn’t.
“Do you want me to beg Jungkook?” you purred low and slow—the translation intended was desperation and you hoped he understood exactly what you were hinting at. You were tired of hiding behind your emotions.
She’s a fucking pied piper and I’m the snake hyptonized by sweet song and mindlessly slithering towards her.
Yes, Jungkook. Come closer, come to me. If only he could listen to your thoughts, this would be a whole lot easier.
Fucking one way telepathy.
“Uh,” there was a mere blank look plastered on his features. His pupils were blown and a soft tint of rose dusted his cheeks. It was as if your words had sucker punched him and he was still processing the hit.
You moved closer to him on the couch, placed your hand on his thighs to balance yourself as you drew closer to his ear, “please, Jungkook. Please, I need to hear you moan again.”
Fuck.
Fuck!
He groaned and the honeyed husk tone sent a trail of goosebumps up your thighs resulting in your panties becoming moist, “please.”
“Jungkook, I want you,” it was the first time in years you’d heard those words adjacent to his name and fuck did it feel good.
Fuck it.
His calloused hands were now on your waist and he began guiding you to lay on the loveseat before your hand landed on his chest to stop him.
“I said I want you,” you sat him back down before kneeling in-between his legs. The fit of his sweats got tighter, lifting and taking on the shape of a tent, “you didn’t reciprocate the sentiment so that means I’m in charge here today.”
Tell her. It’s easy.
Tell her you want her too, you fucking idiot.
He never vocalized it but you didn’t mind—knowing the thought pranced around on his mind was more than enough for you.
“Are you okay with taking these off?” he complied, taking his sweats off swiftly, letting the pool at his ankles. Jungkook is fucking big and you were taken back by the sight, “good boy,” you cooed.
His head fell back on the headrest while his eyes were shut tightly and his breathing became uneven. Oh! He likes that. He likes being called a good boy; you made a mental note to call him that again if you find yourself in a similar predicament.
You raked your nails along his inner thigh, “Jungkook?”
He hummed.
“What do you fantasize about?” you laid your head on his thigh, his dick just a couple inches away from your face and truly all you wanted was to take him all in your mouth.
“Alot of things.”
You reached up, taking his length into your hold and he winced at the contact as you began moving your hand up and down once and once again, “I need more details than that.”
“I think of. .” his words became jumbled in his throat as you continued your very mellow and teasing touch, “of you doing, ah fuck, of you doing all these things to me.”
You clicked your tongue and shook your head at his semi-confession, “Jungkook, have you touched yourself while you think of me, hm?”
Of course, you already knew. You’d heard it yourself but you just loved seeing him become so affected and so sensitive as a result of your lewd utters.
Your palms traveled up to his pink tip and began rubbing circles with your thumb painting it white with his precum.
“Good boys don’t touch themself.”
Jungkook’s mouth remained agape but there were no words communicated instead he formed a sort of soft whimper, and that was the kind of motivation your body needed to go into overdrive.
You wanted. . No, needed to rid yourself of these suffocating ass fucking clothes, you needed to touch yourself—to release that tension aching so painfully in between your legs. But you didn’t. Today was not about you.
“I know. .” he groaned, digging his nails onto the black leather couch, “but when I have you invade my thoughts,” he paused looking for all of the right words, “I just can’t control myself.”
“Hm, seems like I have a lot to live up to compared to your fantasies,” you kissed the head enveloped in your hand before swiping your tongue along his shaft and he hissed.
His saccharine noises should be made into a playlist so that you could be able to replay them over and over everywhere you go but especially when you lay under the covers of your bed in the late hours of the night. The only thoughts occupying your mind would be the compositions of his lustful cries as your fingers worked diligently to get yourself off.
It was so tempting to just allow his hands to continue traveling down your stomach and waist, a few more inches and his fingers could be at the exact location where your body screamed out for his attention.
You wanted it so bad.
You tutted while clicking your tongue, “sit back, Jungkook,” you removed his warm feeling away from your lower back and placed them on his knees before patting them softly, “and keep your hands to yourself. Yeah?”
“It’s really hard to,” he said, “nearly impossible when you’re working so hard to get me off and you’re just sitting there squirming whenever I talk about touching you. Cause the thought has lingered around in your mind, right?”
“Jungkook, this is not how tonight is supposed to go.”
“Then, how is it supposed to go?”
Your hand began moving up and down his cock, pumping him once again before you felt the corners of your mouth beginning to sting as you wrapped your lips around him. It was painful. . Good painful though. With each passing second you bobbed your head on his cock working to take him inch by inch but no matter how much you tried, it was nearly impossible.
His hand snaked around your neck aiding you, sinking himself deeper into the warmth of your mouth. With strings of saliva streaming down your chin, puffy lips, heated skin and a sort of fucked out look in your eyes you continued the repetition.
Seeing him lose himself under the ministrations of your touch and mouth was overwhelming and drove you to the verge of nearly succumbing to the peaking orgasm lurking close by. Instead you diverted your mind to what you were doing instead of what you felt. Placing one your hand around the base of his balls massaging them into your touch, while you put firm pressure with your thumb on the perineum—and that’s when you saw the explosion of fireworks erupt in his eyes while his thighs began to shake.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, Her mouth is—fuck!
“I’m so close,” a needy whimper escaped his lips, “please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. Please.”
You complied, nearly choking on his cock. The feeling of being nearly rid of your ability to breathe was addicting and yes, if tonight were to be your last day on earth it would be a pleasure to die with Jungkook’s dick in your mouth.
“I’ve been a good boy,” he cried out, “can I please cum?”
Been such a good boy. So good.
You hummed in approval right before he spilled into your mouth and you swallowed every bit of it before turning to see his splayed out body—all limp and tired.
After wiping the corners of your mouth you sat beside him on the couch. Your knees were red and stung just a bit but honestly you could do it all over again—all night if you could. Slightly, opening his eyes he looked down, placing a kiss on each knee.
“I never thought we would-” he paused momentarily, “we would do something like this ever again.”
“Really?” your voice became hoarse, “because I’ve thought about it for a long long time now.”
“You have?”
“I have,” you continued, “and I’d like to think you do as well but if you’re ever ready to actually admit what you truly feel you know where I’ll be.”
I do want you. So bad.
And my feelings for you have always remained the same. I still have feelings for you, I feel everything for you. I always have and always will.
He didn’t say a word but simply offered a sly smile before slipping away to get himself together in the bathroom.
… But you were not disappointed.
He needed time and that’s okay. You’d be more than happy to give him the time to dissect this peculiar relationship the two of you have. . developed. It’s the least you could do after all these years.
In your heart you just hope he finds his way back to you.
“So you sucked him dry and then you both continued to work on the project like nothing happened?” Jimin asked; his head laid on Hobi’s lap. Yes, they were back together. This was apparently the reason why he had missed the project session the night before.
“We were kinda forced to when your ass was MIA from the very meeting you set-up.”
He rolled his eyes, “nobody forced you to suck his dick.”
“Fuck you, Jimin.”
“Why don’t you begin by fucking Jungkook instead.”
“Jungkook and I aren’t fucking anytime soon,” you sighed spinning around on your desk chair. The ceiling seemed to come crashing down on you even as you thought of gravity of your fucked up reality, “it’s like I can feel that he still feels something for me but he just won’t vocalize it.”
Hobi caressed the apples of Jimin’s pink cheeks, stroking them lightly with his thumb. They were the picture perfect image of love—whenever they were not fighting of course.
“So you sucked his dick at the expense of what?” Hobi inquired.
“I really just wanted him in my fucking mouth,” you shrugged not really wanting to scramble for any other explanation because the truth of the matter is all of you would always calls out for Jungkook whether you wanted to or not.
“Oh, baby,” Hobi abandoned his place on your bed and kneeled in front of you holding your hands in his, “while I support all forms of slut revelations and tendencies as your best friend it is within my obligation to require you to tend after your heart.”
You nodded.
“Jungkook is alluring, captivating, mysterious and absolutely handsome—” Jimin cleared his throat behind him, but he ignored his boyfriend and proceeded, “and the two of you have a lot of history both good and bad but you have to understand what happened in the past is yesterday’s event. Jungkook can break your heart or hurt you in any way and it’ll be just as fucked up no matter what happened between the two of you back in high school. Okay?”
“Okay,” Hobi was right but how could you shut out the part of your brain which justified every single way Jungkook could tear you apart? Underneath the spark; shining bright in your eyes every single time he appeared in your line of vision you knew you deserved his wrath for every inconvenience you had a role in while inserted into his path.
“Don’t just say it. Mean it.”
The room felt smaller, suffocating, colder and Hobi’s words rolled around in your head in every single direction. The three of you were sprawled around your full bed watching a random movie Jimin had picked out. You sat up against the headboard while the two of them laid on their stomachs facing the television hung on your wall. You weren’t alone but your bed felt empty and as you looked off to your right you couldn’t help but be transported back to last night when you and Jungkook finally settled on the Titanic.
The tragic telling of two people who found their way to each other against all circumstances and the barrier of societal norms and expectations that stood in-between them. Of course, aside from Leo unnecessarily dying in the final act this could be a retelling of pinpoints on your relationship with Jungkook. You liked each other, your parents were against it, you lived in the moment and you let your heart lead a way here and there but as soon as the iceberg (your parents, your ex, and even you) became introduced as the antagonist the two of you found yourselves swimming in an ocean of heartbreak and despair.
You would always assume responsibility for every single way you hurt Jungkook in the past but if one thing must be crystal clear is that you also love him. You did back then and you do now—the only difference is that back then you were looking to please all of those around you and you suppress your feelings in the deepest pocket of your heart but you wanted to liberate it all. You were finally ready to listen to your heart.
It was a composition to a beautiful song, one so loud it courses through your very being, awakening your nerves and causing your thoughts to explode into a frenzy.
You wanted him here with you. Snuggling into you sharing longing looks and deprived touches.
You wanted him to be open and push all of his fears away.
You wanted him to realize that you were different now. Things were different and you would treat him so well.
I need to talk to her. Yeah.
Almost as if his brain and his phone were wired together you heard a ding go off right beside you.
‘Hey, can we please talk?’
Your heart sank because in your experience that sentence never led to a good thing. Never.
‘Sure. When are you free?’
‘Right now.’
‘Hobi and Jimin are home. You can come over if you don’t mind some company or we can meet somewhere else?’
‘Come to my apartment in 5.’
‘K.’
Jittery was the exact word you’d use to describe Jungkook at soon as he opened up the door to his apartment and stepped aside to allow you in. The length of his finger had a slight tremble and his eyes were blown wide.
You hadn’t really seen him like that in a while.
“Jungkook, are you okay?”
He nodded, “yeah, just a bit stressed with everything going on plus I’ve had like five energy drinks in the past five hours.”
“What’s got you so stressed?” you asked standing before him, you felt hesitant to sit anymore. I mean you did have his dick in your mouth like less than twenty-four hours ago but you didn’t want to push it and you certainly did not want to invade his personal space.
“Too many things, honestly. School for one. .” he ran a hand through his hair taking a brief second to determine exactly what he wanted to reveal to you, “work study plus now I'll be co-coaching the swim team as well.”
“You’re headstrong Jungkook,” you offered, “I’m sure you’ll do amazingly even with this hectic schedule you are so determined to take on.”
“I went to this psychic once and she told me my ambition to take on everything would lead to my demise,” he chuckled airily, “I’m beginning to think she was right.”
“Psychics are bullshit. Who says you can’t have cake and chocolate ice cream too?”
“Right,” you hadn’t noticed before but casual was Jungkook’s new staple. Seems like he has drifted away from his black boots and particularly dark toned outfits. You liked that version of him quite a lot, although you hadn’t really shown it in the past. However, you also liked the version of him standing before you where he maximized comfort and migrated to mostly tones of white, gray and nudes, “of course you would make that comparison. Cake and chocolate ice cream have always been your go to dessert combination.”
“Isn’t it everyones?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “for example my nutritionist might say it’s too sugary.”
“Well, fuck the psychic and that nutritionist of yours too,” Jungkook’s laugh is just like the rest of him—inviting, sweet and genuine. When he laughs, it’s addictive enough to make you want to make him laugh again and again, just so you can hear that sound and see her giggly smile as much as possible, “forreal, but also just remember you gotta just live in the moment, don't worry about tomorrow or even yesterday. Today is all that matters.”
“I definitely agree but funny enough I kinda wanted to talk to you about what happened last night..” He cleared his throat, “on the couch of your apartment. Well you and Hobi’s apartment.”
You looked down at your dusty white converse before finding his eyes once again, “what exactly did you want to talk about?”
Go on. Go on.
“We’re good right? Are you okay after—well, you know,” was he worried about hurting you after you suck him off yesterday? God, you could suck his dick all over again and then once more after that or preferably until your jaw locks and your knees dissipate. Though, that still wouldn’t be enough to extinguish the burning desire in the pit of your stomach.
“What exactly are you asking?” you took a step towards him, “shouldn’t I be the one making sure we’re good especially considering all of our history together?”
“Forget that.”
Don’t bring it up, please. Just forget about it.
“I can’t Jungkook,” you sighed, “I wanna make sure we’re okay and I wanna apologize for what happened. Please, let me do it. I don’t want you to resent me for the rest of your life because of it.”
“There’s no need to. I forgave you long ago. The cold stares and snarky comments were always just a front,” he confessed, “I forgave you the second after everything went down.”
“And I thank you for that but I still need to do this. I need to get it off my chest,” you reached for his hand; the warmth of his hold settled your nerves and finally you were able to go on, “Please, forgive me Jungkook. For going through with that dare and kissing you in the bathroom. I did want to kiss you but I should’ve never let them take a picture; it only made things worse for you. I’m sorry for not comforting you after your fight with my idiot ex, although I wanted to. I was scared but you were too and it was my fault so I should’ve been there. I’m sorry for ghosting you after we spent the night together at Yeonjun’s party—my parents, they gave me an ultimatum and I was just a high school senior still very dependent on them and I know that’s not an excuse but I managed to make it one back then. Most of all I’m so fucking sorry for not reaching out to you sooner and making things right. I just hope it isn’t too late now.”
His hands abandoned yours and instead he leaned over before cupping your face, “I told you already. I forgave you for everything a long time ago.”
“I appreciate your kind heart and forgiving nature, Jungkook,” you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes in the process, “but still I needed you to know how truly sorry I am.”
“Please, stop apologizing,” he sighed, “the past is the past and you have no reason to be apologizing to me right now.”
“You keep saying that but I did and I do,” Jungkook’s stare was comforting; his eyes felt like embers burning your skin under the sun rays shining bright during the mid-afternoon sun, “and I will continue to do so at any given minute. I need to make up for all of that lost time—every single minute; every hour I’ve let you slip through my fingers. You deserve to be treasured, loved and cherished for the rest of your days and I will do just that if you allow me to.”
“What exactly are you asking me?”
“I’m simply asking that we allow things to ride out and perhaps the tide might just take us somewhere beautiful.”
He giggled, “do these sonnets just live in that pretty little head of yours?”
“My head is more than just pretty,” you challenge.
“I know that,” this is the giddiest you’ve ever seen Jungkook be. In recent times he had adopted a sort of hard shell, which he often wore like a shield but today as he leaned on his kitchen island with his head propped up on his palms he looked elated, “I just like the way you describe the potential of there being an. . us.”
“Do you like it enough to give things a chance? Maybe even go on a date?” the tremble in your extremities gave away just how truly nervous you felt, though you tried your best to hide it. You’d never asked anyone out before but for Jungkook you were willing to make the first move.
She’s so poetic with her affinity for love. I like the way her eyes light up when she talks about us being together.
“How about tomorrow?”
“I’m free tomorrow.”
The following day was a blur overshadowed by a nimbostratus cloud which swept in a vicious squall with gusts so powerful your room was left a literal mess as you spent hours prior to Jungkook picking up frantically looking for the perfect date outfit.
Now, you sat in your little casual red dress in the passenger seat of the car Jungkook borrowed from his best friend. Your balmy sat atop your thighs and you tapped your fingers lightly on your heated skin.
The night sky was beautiful—drowning with a million of bright stars and a moon so illuminating it spotlighted your path. Nightlife here roared with vibrancy and the sidewalks were congested with people bar hopping or looking for dinner spots among other things. This scene had great capability in finally claiming your attention away from Jungkook and his sinful thoughts but it was hard. Every single image Jungkook painted within the beauty of his mind blasted in your head seemingly like a framed art piece in a gallery. Except, the only difference was that roaming around a museum was peaceful, whereas Jungkook's wandering thoughts made you quiver and sent glacial shivers down your spine.
For the duration of the ten minute car ride he’s use the weapon known as his mind and managed to peel your clothes off, re-imagining the way your mouth moved on his cock, then, within seconds he painted a picture of what it would be like to fuck you against the hood of his car. You’d admit the depiction of you against the cold metal bumper with your dress hiked up to your waist, while he pounds into you relentlessly really was more than enough to ignite (with the man sitting behind the wheel; eyes hyper focused on the road ahead; and his tattooed knuckles gripping the steering wheel), about a million fantasies you wanted to fulfill with his assistance.
But the urge to have the heat of his touch roam every inch of your body became abated when Jungkook parked his car and you found yourselves sitting across from each other in the red booth of a seafood restaurant on the pier. The incandescent bulb overhead did very little to irradiate the space between you and yet Jungkook still looked as radiant as ever. The muffled and incessant chatter of the patrons scattered throughout the establishment became similar to the buzzing of bumble bees and truly you weren’t really too sure you could make out conversations they engaged in.
You were kind of nervous and although you’d hope it wasn’t too obvious you couldn’t help the way your eyes scanned the room and your body failed to comply with the simple order of sitting still.
“You look beautiful tonight,” Jungkook sat up on the leather seat and looked off outside the glass window drinking in the vicious waves as they crashed against the golden shore.
You look beautiful every single day.
“Thank you,” you smiled, “I see your signature black boots have finally made a comeback,” you followed his eyes out to get a view of the roaring sea, “I thought you might’ve grown out of them.”
This look—tonight was the epitome of teenage Jungkook core and you couldn’t help but savor the brief stroll down memory lane. Of course, back in high school you’d always had a tiny little crush on him and while you worked to get over it; that was not an issue today. You were gawking—practically drooling at how amazing his biceps looked under the sleeves of his white tee, his black jeans hugged his thick thighs and his hair was tied half up half down and of course those damned black boots.
“They’re my secret weapon. I just keep them in the back of my closet for special occasions.”
I also know they were always your favorite look on me.
“In that case, I’m honored that a night with me is considered a special occasion enough to bring out the boots,” Jungkook finally turned towards you, his eyes shining bright like jewels even in the shitty lighting.
“I figured it fit our little slice of history perfectly.”
“Don’t tell me these were the exact ones you wore that day?
“They are the exact same ones.”
“I thought you would have gotten rid of them with everything that transpired,” you whispered; talking about the past still felt taboo.
“I contemplated that many times,” he shrugged then proceeded in a timorous voice, “but I just couldn’t. There is an abundance of bad memories attached to them but the memory of my first kiss trumps all negatives.”
“Your first kiss?” Your shock was evident and for a second you had to look around just to make sure you weren‘t too loud but the people around the two of you were too into their own conversations. They were oblivious to the little corner you and Jungkook occupied towards the back of the restaurant—in your own little world, “I-I was your first kiss?”
He nodded before taking a small sip of his water.
“Jungkook?”
He looked at you, “what?”
“Are you being one-hundred percent serious. . I was your first kiss?”
Jungkook pressed his lips into a tight line causing his cheeks to become impaled by his chasmic dimples; then, he closed his eyes briefly before taking a deep breath, “I was a loser in high school. Of course, I was spared a few friends but in the ‘love’ department I was lacking severely so naturally no one was ever interested in pursuing anything romantic with me. Until, that afternoon when the girl I’d been crushing on finally walked up to me in the bathroom.”
“If I could go back in time and embrace the feelings that I had for you, Jungkook just to tell you how I actually felt I’d do it in a heartbeat,” your heart beat rhythmically in your chest and quickly you began feeling fatigued as if your air supply would be cut off if you didn’t peel back every single one of your layers and confess exactly how you felt.
“If I could go back in time and tell you what I actually felt despite the consequences I’d also do it in a heartbeat,” he murmured, taking your hands in his.
“Good evening and welcome to Under the Sea, can I get you started on anything tonight?” the server approached. Her hair was tied up messily and she wore a black polo and black pants while carrying around a small notepad and pencil in her hand. She seemed friendly but a bit overwhelmed—though, you couldn’t really blame her, this place is leaning a whole lot towards chaos.
“Yeah, we’re ready,” Jungkook said, a fib of course, the two of you had been too busy talking to scan the menu before she came over, “I’ll take the Cioppino. Anything looking appetizing to you?”
“I think I’ll take the Paella.”
“And for drinks?” she asked scribbling away on her notepad.
“I’ll have a Coke.”
“Same here,” the two of you handed back the menu, “thank you.”
“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she smiled before walking off towards the kitchen.
The rest of the night at Under the Sea was brief and while you and Jungkook indulged in small talk here and there the two of you were starving and more concerned about getting something in your stomach. After leaving the busy restaurant Jungkook led you in the opposite direction of the parking lot towards the small park across the street from the beach. Right under the live oak tree there was a blanket laid out with numerous flameless candles flickering their feeble light around the very spot. As you got closer you noticed the basket sitting next to the blanket on the grass and the rose petals scattered around.
“Jungkook. .” You became stunned at the attention to detail of the man before you. Everything looked so beautiful, “you did this all? W-when did you even have the time to set this up?”
“I set everything up before our date and I know some of the workers from the restaurant and asked them to check in every once in a while and bring our snacks out like five minutes ago so nothing would spoil.”
“You prepared snacks for us?”
“More like I cut-up some fruits.”
“In that case I’m judging your knife skills.”
“Not too harshly though,” he tittered softly and airily. It mimicked the comforting tunes of lullabies, “come one, let’s sit. I have some things lined up for us tonight.”
You sat beside him on the velvet fabric, you folded your legs to your side and used one of the spare blankets to cover your lap. Before you there were two medium sized tabletop easels and a selection of paints and brushes.
Jungkook removed the white button up he’d left unbuttoned and kept on the white wifebeater. For the first time you finally had a full view of his sleeve; on full display. The black traces filled in with colorful shades adorned every inch of his right arm all the way down to his wrist. You had the urge to reach out and trace every single pattern but you held back—you and Jungkook were good but this is the beginning stage; first you have to dip your toe in and test the waters.
She’s staring at my arms. . Be calm.
Don’t flex. . Don’t flex.
Dammit.
He flexed, reaching up to brush a stand of hair back and out of his face.
You smiled, “so, what’s supposed to be our inspiration for painting tonight?”
“Each other. You paint me and I’ll paint you.”
“Jungkook, I’m a lousy painter,” you whined.
“The point isn’t for it to be good,” Jungkook began brushing soft strokes on the canvas, “it’s about the creative process. . the ideas that your mind interprets into art.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” you scoffed.
“Art didn’t always come easy to me.”
“How did you know this is what you wanted to do for the rest of your life?” you finally picked up a brush and squeezed a dash of paint on the wooden palette, allowing your hands to work freely—to create.
“The first time I drew anything for others to see was in high school,” his eyes were gleaming with thoughts of reminisce, “Ms. Julie, reached out to me sophmore year, said she needed my help designing the yearbook cover for the seniors that year.”
“I remember the cover that year,” Jungkook looked over at you and there was a layer of joy featured on his face, “it was absolutely beautiful and I also remember every single cover after that being just as amazing.”
“Thank you,” his cheeks were a crisp crimson now, “I designed all of the year books every year after that as well. Actually, I still help Ms. Julie from time to time even now.”
“That’s amazing. It’s truly a gift that your hands possess and I’m so glad we get to see what they create.”
Jungkook stopped his movements all together, his gaze no longer set on the easel, instead he looked downward, his cheeks still burned bright, maybe a little more now than before and by the paced heaves of his chest he seemed to be calculating his every breath.
“Thank thank you,” he stammered.
“And just so you know I intend to shower you with compliments, so get used to it.”
He beamed, “what about you?”
“What about me?”
“What are your passions?”
You shrugged, “Hm, I was never really good at anything back in highschool and while I knew I had to do something. I had a really tough time figuring things out.”
“But then. .”
“Then, I did an internship at the daycare on campus the summer before classes started and I realized how much I love being around all of the kids,” you said, “and at that moment I automatically knew what my major would be, come the fall semester.”
“Funny how life works right?”
“One-hundred percent.”
The cool draft of the expeditious night swept by softly allowing you to leave behind the once scorching afternoon. Right now, you became a resident in your very own slice of heaven and in your head the only people around for miles were you and Jungkook. For the past thirty minutes, the two of you haven’t crossed many words, you were too focused on contextualizing the perfect artwork—one that’ll remind him of you wherever he sees it.
Now, you were not an artist by any means but you tried nevertheless. The best interpretation of him you could come up with was to depict the sheer contrast between the different versions of himself.
The two were slightly different yet when meshed together working symbiotically to make Jungkook the perfect mixture of tranquil, mesmerizing and lulling all in one.
Your canvas was split in two—one side you painted baby blue with music notes substituting the clouds in what would be the bright afternoon sky and and a lousy excuse for a guitar sitting on the bottom. This was the version of him that lived inside and the one only a few people got to see. His mysterious aura and great passion for music. Then, on the opposite side you painted a black background in combination with it there was an abundance of colorful art supplies scattered all throughout. This one represented what he chooses to show and what many saw on the outside on his day-to-day course.
After some finishing touches you moved back on taking one last look at your work, “okay. . Here, I tried my best but it’s not your face. Just some things that remind me of you.”
“Let’s see,” he hummed excitedly, waiting for you to turn the canvas around.
“Be nice, okay?”
“I will, I will.”
When Jungkook was excited there were a lot of distinctive actions that communicated with his body and expressions. His eyes lit up like the explosions of fireworks on a summer night; his shoulders were raised up past his jawline and his cheeks burned bright.
“It’s not good, okay,” you beamed at his cheerfulness; it was cute how thrilled he was.
“It’s perfect,” he leaned closer to sneak a glance, “come on. Let me see.”
“Fine,” turning the canvas around felt like an invasion of privacy, although everything on it was solely about him, it was still like a clear window into your soul and how you saw him.
You’d never been this vulnerable before with anyone. Never.
He scanned the explosion of colors sitting in-between your hands. Jungkook’s lips curved up while the corners of his eyes wrinkled in amusement.
“This is amazing and absolutely the best depiction of everything I love.”
“Don’t lie to me, Professor Picasso.”
“I don’t lie about art,” he reached for it and you placed it in his hands, “and this is a masterpiece.”
You scoffed.
“I’m serious,” he argued, “this is going up on my art wall. Front and center.”
“This better be the only thing on your art wall,” you muttered.
Jungkook finally grabbed his canvas holding it close to his chest. . Well, as close as he could due to the wet paint, “Here’s mine.” he still had not turned it around for you to see.
“You know you actually have to turn it for me to take a look.”
He chuckled, “I know but nervousness is contagious. . Just gimme one second.” He took a deep breath before slowly turning the canvas in your direction and there you were. Same facial features, hair style and red dress you had chosen for the night. The talent his fingers convey is jaw dropping. It is evident Jungkook is an amazing artist through and through.
“Jungkook. .” You knew he was good; you’d seen the covers he had designed for the highschool yearbook back then, still, that didn’t prepare you for this in the slightest bit to see yourself from his point of view, “I don’t have an art wall but this will definitely be the beginning of one in my apartment.”
He guffawed while passing his painting over.
“I’m serious,” you continued, now closely examining his precise attention to detail. He got every single attribute down to the smallest scars and birthmarks, “your talent is impeccable. Just look at how amazing this is. It’s actually not fair at all. I want mine back.”
“No way! You can’t take back gifts you have already given away to someone.”
“Yes, I can,” you argued, “especially if my gift looks like shit next to yours.”
“It most definitely doesn’t. I already told you, I love it and it’s going up on my wall and there’s nothing you can do about it,” he leaned closer, placing a soft peck on your forehead and clutching the painting tight in his grasp.
You groaned admitting defeat, “but I am expecting a lot more paintings from you.”
“Always.”
Of course. As long as you’re beside me, and even if some day for some reason you aren’t, you’ll continue to be my muse forever.
His muse. You love the sound of that.
The sound of the pouring rain beat rhythmically on the glass window. For the next few hours your bed was your haven and Jungkook’s bare arms were your form of a warm blanket.
Although the clock on your night stand marked four o’clock, the day was as dark as night and as the sun refused to come out to play the dark nimbus clouds invaded the stretch of the expansive sky, refusing to allow even a single ray of light to illuminate your bedroom.
The power had gone out but the two of you had lit up some candles in various locations of your room. You were both in your underwear, semi-sticky with a thin layer of sweat coating your entire body as a result of the air conditioner no longer being on.
Even in the heat the two of you couldn’t untangle yourselves from each other.
“We’ve been laying here in the heat for hours,” his fingers raked over your shoulder and down to the middle of your back.
“There’s nowhere we can go to cool down for the day. I’m afraid these four walls are it for us today,” you complained.
“And moving will only make us hotter.”
“I think the two of us being tangled up like this is already making us hotter.”
His hands tightened around your waist, “yet there’s nothing you can say to let me go.”
“Then, it’s a good thing I don’t want you to let go,” you crossed your arms on his chest and laid your chin on them; looking up at him through your lashes taking in his figure as he laid back against the headboard.
“Why are you looking up at me like that?” he asked though his eyes were still closed.
“I just like having you. . here.”
“In your room?” he asked.
“In my life,” you confessed, “I guess I never thought we could make it here again.”
“I had faith—hope. I knew that eventually we would get to talk and forgive each other.”
Every fight and every bicker was a call to drive you closer to me. Immature I know, but it was all I could do and say to get close to you.
“You didn’t do anything wrong to me, Jungkook,” you traced lines over his collarbones leaving before sparks of electricity; you felt as they traveled down to the tip of your finger, “if anything I was constantly praying you’d forgive me.”
Forgiving you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.
“I walked away after Yeonjun’s party,” he caressed your cheeks with the pads to his finger, “that was my worst mistake and I knew exactly how it looked too; like I just hit it and quit it.”
“You didn’t hit it and quit it, Jungkook,” you sighed, “I did that to us. I was the one who walked away from us. None of it was your fault.”
“But I let you walk away. I didn’t fight for us.”
“Hey,” you cradled his face in your hands, “I didn’t let you fight for us. This is on me.”
But I never went searching for you. I just let you—walk away. The night you got up from that longue chair on the rooftop of Yeonjun’s house I thought that was our beginning; I just never thought it could be our end instead.
“It’s on us,” Jungkook leaned into your touch, softly moving his cheek against your palm, “but we can only work to overcome our past. . Together.”
You held onto the gold link looped around his neck, clutching it in order to pull him towards you until finally your faces were just an inch away from each other, “Together.”
“Kiss me, please,” his breath fanned across your lips as you continued guiding him closer and closer to you—his eyes were closed once again and he completely succumbed into this trance of your navigation. His lips were warm and velvet; parting slowly before they landed on yours. You became lost in the way your heartbeat continued beating faster and faster. The soft ballad of the steady thrumming tickled your ears and along with the taste of his mint lips on yours you began feeling a bit faint.
The room was still hot, the power was still out and you still sat on Jungkook’s lap but now you became exhilarated riding off the feelings in the way your body connected. It wasn’t just the kiss—no, it was also the way his electric touch began tracing the lines outlining your body, traveling down between your breasts, then down your stomach and up your sides until they rested on your hips. Jungkook’s fingers teasingly toyed around with the elastic waistband of your panties, rubbing small circles on your lower back.
You were breathless pulling away from that kiss but in between breaths you managed to pull his forehead against yours before allowing yourself to speak one again, “Jungkook, can I tell you something?”
He nodded.
“I-I want you, Jungkook,” your brain felt like it melted right into mush and there were no coherent thoughts in your head that didn’t revolve around Jungkook.
You were dickmatized. Yes, you were.
“You have me.”
“I want all of you.”
“Take it all,” he whispered.
Do anything you want to me. Do everything you want to me. Do whatever you want with me. I am yours for the taking.
You felt the beads of sweat strolling down your body accompanying the slight tremble in your every movement. Still, you moved with the facade of faux confidence and soon you found yourself straddling his thigh, sinking down against his heated and sticky skin. Indulging in a steady pace you began moving back and forth against his thigh all while holding onto his shoulder for support. Jungkook’s head fell back against the wall but his hands never left your waist guiding your movements to the quickened beat of desperation.
“You look so pretty riding my thigh. You know that?” he smirked; his cheeks were the tone of wine. Jungkook bit his lip to maintain focus on the sloppy motion he continued to maneuver.
You hummed entirely consumed by that heated feeling in between your thighs—entranced in the way his soft whimpers only guided you towards that very place where you could finally reach out and touch the stars.
“Fuck—fuck, keep going, yeah?” you stammered never ever wanting him to stop being the root of your every desire.
What gave her the impression that I’d stop? This. . Us, it just feels so right. I will never be able to live in a reality where the image of her getting off on my thigh could ever cease—not after today. Not ever.
“Just-just let me guide you, baby girl,” his voice was low and husk followed by a series of unpaced breaths.
“Take me there, Jungkook,” you moaned.
Oh, fuck—I’ll take you there baby. I’ll take you there. I’ll take you there.
His fingers dug into you while his fingernails left behind marks of deep crescents traced on your skin. The guidance of his movements was near animalistic and the fabric of your panties was now sticking to your juices and there was nothing you craved more than the desirous urge to unravel under the trance of Jungkook’s ministrations.
Back and forth; back and forth you moved reaching higher and higher as your fingertips brushed touch the points of the luminous star and before you knew your teeth sunk into his shoulders suppressing your moans and your hips no longer followed the rhythm he previously set and you were finally swimming in the night sky—so high; so satiated.
“Oh,” you breathed, “that-that was amazing.”
“You tired yet?” he asked.
“Not at all.”
Jungkook hugged your waist and flipped the two of you over; your bodies pressing together heatedly against the ocean of sheets, breathing heavily as your lips pressed together once again. His hands quickly dipped under the waistband of your panties reaching for your inner thigh, until you felt him press the pads of his fingers in between your folds smearing the combination of your juices. After his torturous teasing he slipped two fingers pumping them in and out of you quickly.
“Oh, baby,” he finally pulled away from your lips, allowing a string of whimpers to slip past your swollen lips, “you feel so fucking good.”
“Jungkook, faster please,” you rocked your hips to match the beat of his fingers moving in and out of you.
“Is that what you want?” he hummed, “tell me. You want to cum at the mercy of my fingers?”
“Yes-yes. That’s what I want please.”
Jungkook laid beside you on the bed with his face buried in the nape of your neck. His hand still worked diligently to get you off as he whispered soft praises against the shell of your ears. You were in your very own depiction of utopia—euphoric with stimulation of endorphins.
“I’m close-close, Jungkook,” you dragged your nails down his back, likely leaving streaks of red trails behind as he quickened his pace. Meanwhile, you felt your body temperature skyrocket and the knot in the pit of your stomach tightened until it could not become any tighter and for the second time that night you felt how the storm passed and once again you floated throughout the night sky.
While Jungkook strove to read your body like the ink inscripted into the pages of his favorite book; the absence of his wandering hands made you feel empty—as if you couldn’t really breathe. At all.
“What happened, baby girl?” his lips traveled downwards on your body while his hands finally worked to unclasp your bra, (two orgasms later you couldn’t believe you still had all your undergarments on), and now your breasts became the forefront of his attack and leisurely he took each nipple in between his teeth smirking at your gasps and shudders as a result of your sensitivity, “are you the one who can’t stand the rule of not touching today?”
“Ah—,” he lightly bit the side of your left breast before kissing it better, “the only thing I hate right now is that your dick isn’t in me right now.”
He laughed; the booming sounds struck just like the raucous cries of thunder just outside your windows, “what makes you think I’m gonna fuck you tonight?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I can feel how hard you are against my leg.”
“What? This?” Jungkook sat-up on the bed working to remove his boxers. When he finally did he discarded them to the pool of clothes somewhere on your bedroom floor while his cock sat before you like it had been a few days prior. Jungkook laid back down in front of you, placed a tender kiss on your forehead before he moved closer towards you, lifting your leg up and allowing it to rest on his hip. Once positioned he began rubbing the head of his cock against your clothed slit —especially focusing on the sensitive bud.
He traced the lines of your lips over and over until you couldn’t take it any longer and tears began filling your eyes and you chanted hastely begging him to fuck you right into the mattress.
“Please, Jungkook,” a needy whimpered rolled off your tongue, “please fuck me, please fuck me please.”
Jungkook was now on top of you and he reached down, moving your soaked panties to the side before he lined himself at your entrance. You closed your eyes anticipating that moment when his cock would slip in and stretch you out so good you’d feel full beyond relief. And just as you imagined he slowly pushed himself past your entrance, your mouth fell agape at the sensation of his cock invading you inch by inch.
The feeling was immeasurable and better than anything you’d ever felt before.
“Will you be okay if I move?” he asked almost out of breath.
You nodded frantically.
“Just let me know if you wanna stop at any point, okay?” he remained still.
You nodded once again.
Jungkook moved cautiously, setting a lento rhythm—almost as if he thought you’d break if he fucked into you too hard. His tattooed hand brushed your heated cheeks as he continued his agonizingly slow thrusts. The room was still silent for the most part except now in company to the pitter-patter of the pouring rain the two of you contributed your very own duet composed of his guttural groans mixed and your shaky pants.
His lips left sweet kisses behind on both of your cheeks, then your nose, your chin and lastly your forehead.
She looks so fucking beautiful like this; all sweaty and aroused just for me. Fucked out just for me. I’m so lucky. So lucky.
“Jungkook?” you tucked your bottom lip under your top row of teeth.
“Yes?”
“Deeper, please,” you whined, “not faster but harder. I want to feel you deep in me.”
Deeper? Fuck. She’s gonna be the death of me. I swear she is. I’ll fuck you just how you’d like baby girl. I’ll fuck you right.
“Okay—okay,” he stammered.
Jungkook stopped his movements and pulled out momentarily as he adjusted his position in between your legs. He grabbed both of them and wrapped them around his waist before pushing past your entrance once again, and yes, it felt just as jaw dropping as the first time. Jungkook’s pace remained lento except now whenever he was about to push back into you he made sure to lunge himself deeper causing the sounds of his skin slapping against yours to echo within the walls of your room.
“Oh, Jungkoook,” you let out a drawn-out moan, chanting his name repeatedly, “right-right there, oh, Jungkooook. Right there. Please don’t stop.”
He continued penetrating you just as you wanted until once again, for the third time that night, you were on the very edge of the planet. You could see the exact place where the sky met the earth. Trotting towards the phenom you felt the way your heartbeat quickened and finally as you approached you began clenching around him until you witnessed an explosion of stars behind your eyes; a feeling so blissful your knuckles turned white as you clutched the sheets underneath you in your grasp.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. .” he hissed pulling out quickly.
“What’s wrong?” you gasp at the feeling of emptiness now substituted by a ravenous void.
“I almost finished inside of you and we forgot to wear a condom,” his cock was held tightly in his hand.
You swiped your tongue on your lips, “would you like some help with that?”
“That is not how today is supposed to go,” he mocked.
“Fine,” you shrug, “but I was going to offer my body as an alternative.” Jungkook’s pupils become dilated, your words obviously peeking his interest, “come on my face, Jungkook.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Jungkook towered over you on the bed, kneeling right beside you on the bed—by now you were spent, too tired to do anything but lay there and admire the way his head hung back as he worked to find his release. The design of his tattoos followed suit beginning all the way from his shoulder blade, to his flexed and veiny bicep all the way down to the tight clasp of his finger around his shaft moving hastily from base to tip.
“Look at you, baby girl. All eager for me to come on you,” Jungkook said through clenched teeth, “you’re so naughty for me. All for me.”
“All for you, Jungkook,” you repeated, “I can’t wait to feel just how warm you’ll be on my face. Come on, baby. ”
Your mantra of praises rolled off your tongue semi-automatically but you were needy to feel his seed on you so you continued using your words to aid him in the process of jerking off. He continued moving his hand up and down his length until the tip became painted white with drops of pre-come.
“I’m almost—” he cried out; his guttural whimpers sent waves of glacial shivers interlacing with the ridges of your spine.
“Yes, Jungkook. Be a good boy.”
“I am a good boy,” his labored breathing came out in puffs, “I am. .”
“Then, come on baby. I’m waiting.”
Jungkook was immersed in what you knew was likely the build-up of his approaching release. His chest inflated and deflated rapidly, while the muscles in his stomach tightened accentuating his already sculpted physique while his cheeks turned a bright scarlet.
“I’m coming!” He cried out.
The spurts of his white semen painted your face as he worked himself to the very last drop. Even in his moment of release Jungkook was careful enough to aim towards your mouth and chin and you licked everything within reach of your tongue.
“Let me get a wet rag and I’ll clean you up okay?” Jungkook stood from the bed and placed a kiss on your forehead before walking towards your bedroom door and opening it up.
A few seconds went by and suddenly you heard a loud shriek and a plethora of muffled words which sounded a lot like your best friend, Hoseok. Not a lot of time went by before you saw Jungkook enter the room frantically before slamming the door shut and leaning against the wooden surface.
“Hoseok’s home?” you laughed.
“And Jimin.”
“And they saw?”
“Mhm.”
“Please remind me to never leave this room naked again.”
“Yes! Please remind him!” Hoseok yelled from just outside the door.
A bursting titter erupted between the two of you and Jungkook climbed back into bed with you before he helped you wipe off the mess he’d made on your body, then laid down beside you.
“Can I ask you something?” You began snuggling deeper into his embrace.
“Yes?.”
“Will you stay here tonight?” You asked barely above a whisper—barely audible.
Jungkook rested his chin on the crook of your neck, “of course, I’ll stay with you tonight.”
There was no place you’d rather be than embraced in the solace of Jungkook’s warmth.
Tonight, tomorrow, and forever after that.
I’ll always stay with you.
-
-
-
an: you know what im about to say right? ignore the smut scene ~if you must~ it literally took me like two weeks to write because my brain wasn’t working >.<
i literally started working on this like a week before seven released…. *gulps*
☆summary: when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?
☆pairing: Min Yoongi x singer female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)
☆genre: work collaborators to lovers, idol!au, smut, angst, fluff
☆warnings: alcohol, cursing, OC has family problems similar to those Yoongi went through, financial insecurity, loneliness, cheating but not cheating because they are on a break, sexist interviewer, explicit content: grinding, dom!reader, switch!Yoongi, big dick!Yoongi, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, face riding, tits/nipples play, hickey, fingering, protected sex, choking, clit play, denied orgasms (due to consensual drunk sex), fingering, mentions of anal sex, handcuffs, anal plug, anal fingering
☆word count: 34.9k
☆a/n: it’s so weird to post something other than The Forgotten Spaces :’) I hope you’ll still enjoy this! As per always, thank you to @moonleeai for her incredible work as my beta reader! You’re the best <3
☆Read the other installments in the Life Goes On series here!
⤷ summary. staying after hours with Yoongi for months proves to be a mistake when your heart falls for him.
pairing. fuckboy!min yoongi x nerdy!reader
genre. smut (18+), angst, fluff(?), fuckboy au, college au, unrequited love au.
warnings. smut [redacted 👁️], ANGST !! fückboi!yoongi, friends (more like aquaintences?) with benefits, major angst, there’s some fluff, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, dom/sub themes, unrequited love, yoongi is hot in this but he’s a bit of an asshole, reader is sassy as fùck, but she loves him :(, basketball capitain!yoongi, yoongi is a hot, cocky bastard, so many feelings, a lot of explicit language (cursing, sêxual talk, etc) + many more when the fic drops.
est word count. 20k—35k 💌 (it may be much more if i’m being honest......it’s yoongi we’re talking about here) ; word count for the teaser is 2.9k (sorry it’s so long omg)
est release date. mid august / beggining of september. it depends on how long the fic gets 🥴
note. okay so this was based on a request for my milestone game, and it got turned into a whole fic because my imagination is a very wild place, and i don’t regret a single thing about this. fuckboy au is honestly one of my weak spots, and ik it’s cliche or whatever but we love cliches in this house!!! i’m honestly packed with series i need to update but fuck, i honestly had to do this. i need to do let it out for the sake of my sanity. and y’all know i’m a sucker for that good angst, so prepare to cry a bit 🔪 and thank you for my lovely dia @playboyjjks for beta’ing this fic and screaming w me for this yoongi, i love u so much🥺💗
» please don’t flag this post. if u don’t like it, just scroll. don’t be petty and flag creator’s posts, if u do that, ur not fücking cool 👎
links. main masterlist ; taglist
You probably should have gone to the party that your best friend told you about.
But you were too emotionally drained from all the studying, and the last thing you needed was a social gathering you knew would only suck you out of your energy even more.
You’ve been so exhausted lately—your lectures have turned difficult, and your time has lately been consumed by either studying or your classes.
And so, you’re alone on a Friday night inside your shared apartment, watching some trashy romance TV while eating microwave popcorn and wearing your Spongebob Squarepants knee-socks.
And imagine your surprise once you hear the doorbell ring when you’re not expecting anyone tonight—your best friend and Taehyung are both at that damn frat party, you didn’t order takeout just yet.
You reluctantly open the door, silently hoping no serial killer would be on the other side, but no, it’s even worse.
“Yoongi?” You ask, almost gasping, but you’re too tired for your body to show any signs of strong emotions when meeting the man you secretly longed to see.
“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks, and you’re almost sure you pick up something of concern in his smooth voice, but you know it’s only your hallucination. You know for a fact that Yoongi doesn’t care for his hookups, or in other words, you.
You first met him during a party, and you were enamoured by his captivating brown eyes the minute they met yours.
You had heard about him before. The notorious fuckboy slash basketball capitan that caught many hearts in his hands and squeezed them to death.
You promised yourself you would never acquaint yourself with him. The stories you heard, make him out to be the worst monster of them all inside your head, with ugly green eyes that were ready to eat anyone who had a pussy.
And who ate women’s hearts until there was nothing red left.
But who knew such a monster could be so incredibly beautiful in ways you had never dreamed of?
But maybe that’s why he was such a nightmare; why he had such ease in luring prey into his deadly trap.
You got tipsy from the beers that were passed around to your hands by your best friend, and you went from making many eye contact with a certain basketball player to him fucking you hard on the back of his car, while your friend, Yuri, explored the whole house in search for the black-haired boy you were under.
At the time, you didn’t understand how his eyes fell on you instead of on your best friend, who was much prettier than you and looked at him through the rose-coloured glasses you would only months later understand.
However, now get why his eyes fell on you.
You had a ‘good girl’ image and anyone that laid their eyes on you could sense a sort of naiveness that Yoongi craved.
He lived for it.
And you were just another one of his prey. A piece of meat he would then soon discard after he sucked every last bit of the blood inside your system.
You swore to yourself you would be like them. That you wouldn’t fall for his deadly charm like other girls did. You thought yourself to be different from them, until a few months later, when you were grabbing some take-out after a heavy secret make-out session in his car.
When he flashed you his beautiful gummy smile. Your world stopped and everything came crashing down when you realised you were in love with the devil, that is Min Yoongi, and he caught your heart with his deadly hands just like other girls.
Knowing you are in love with another human is supposed to be euphoric, the poets say.
The sonnets describe how swelled up in sheer giddiness you must be from experiencing such a powerful, deep emotion for your significant other.
And you knew you were doomed because when you realised your heart only beats for Yoongi, it only made you hurt in ways that left you crying for days. So much so, that time became nonexistent and days bled into another as you grieved for the loss of your own heart that you stupidly let him take away from you.
You weren’t different from the other ones—you weren’t the one special enough to change Min Yoongi’s heart. To make him love you.
And you only push the dagger an inch more into your bleeding heart every time you continue to sleep with him, knowing you will never get his heart to heal you in ways you so desire.
No one knows of your affair, and you were the one who wanted to keep it that way. If anybody knew, you would be cast away in other people’s as nothing more than another one of Yoongi’s many hookups, and even worse, if your best friend found out she would have your head.
Yuri was always a jealous woman—the men she hooked up with, which was a very good amount, she got angry with the woman they would kiss a week later, and would always make their lives a living hell in the most subtle of ways.
And the ones whom Min Yoongi hooked up with were the ones that had it the worst.
“What are you doing here, Yoongi?” You put your mouth before your lips, yawning while talking, eyes blood-red from the exhaustion you feel.
Your sleepy eyes follow his frame up and down, and you can see he isn’t in his usual ‘asshole’ attire, as you would joke with Yuri—instead, he wears grey sweats and a simple, plain white tee shirt. You could even mistake him for a good guy if you didn’t already know the malicious intentions behind the fiery brown eyes you’ve regretfully grown to find beautiful.
But what catches your attention is the jewellery that stayed intact—two thin silver chains around his neck (he usually wears more extravagant ones), bracelets on his pulse, and his signature rings on his fingers.
If you hadn’t looked down to rapidly inspect his veiny, ring-filled fingers, you wouldn't be able to find one specific piece of jewellery that makes your lungs almost break and your breath to be taken away.
It’s the ring you gave him for his birthday a few months ago.
Yoongi opens his mouth to answer you, but you cut his off, rubbing your sleepy eyes while trying to keep your mouth from yawning once again, “If you came here for sex, I really can’t do it tonight; I’m busy—”
“Studying?” Yoongi raises his eyebrows, and you sigh, nodding your head while groaning, “Well, you always say that, and next thing you’re begging me to make you cum.”
You cringe at his lewd words, “What the fuck, can you not say things like these? Pervert.” You roll your eyes, and Yoongi laughs, throwing the smile that never fails to make your stomach turn and your heart flutter in ways you only experience with him.
“And no, I’m not studying this time. I’m just watching some tv before going to sleep.” You grumble, and Yoongi fake gasps, dramatically opening his mouth to drag out the gasp more than it needs to, and you playfully roll your eyes.
“Oh, is Miss goody-two-shoes actually having time for herself, hm?” Yoongi teases, a small smile tugging on his lips, and you try to fight the butterflies that flap in your stomach with a small scoff.
You shouldn’t be feeling this. You know Yoongi only sees you as another one of his hook-ups, one he doesn’t care for, only if you have what he needs when he needs it.
Your brain knows that, but your heart chooses to ignore it when it hopelessly flutters for him every time he kisses you as if you were his, and sinks to your stomach every time he leaves you that same night.
You’ve made many mistakes in your life, but falling for Min Yoongi must be the worst of them all.
Your everything sings for him, for the three words out of his lips, but his heart would never hear your melodies as you wish so much. And every day that passes a piece of you is taken away, a reminder of your fatal mistake that is loving a man that only sees you as meat and is blind for your soul that calls for his.
You should have never let your heart become such an open book, filled with unspoken words of affection for him, a man who never had the desire to open you, to read you in ways you so ached for.
And you still lie here, sinking in a sea of hurt, choking on your blood every time you accept Yoongi into your heart for the sake of having him beside you, for having the pleasure of touching him. Even if the fog of lust blinds his eyes and you can only wish for him to see you as clearly as you see him.
“I’m just too tired to study.” You yawn, and Yoongi leans in, barging inside your territory and into the uncharted waters of your hopeless heart—even if he doesn’t know it.
“Y’know what would make you relax?” One of his brows goes up, and he bites his pink lips, lust fogging his eyes in the way you already know. He’s the diesel that ignites an unwanted fire in your heart, and he’s the only hazard that can make you hot with desire in mere seconds.
You put your index finger on his chest and push him away from you, and he only chuckles, amused by your response. “Nope. Not today, Min.”
“Alright.” Yoongi pouts slightly, putting his hands in his pockets—how can this man be so hot yet cute? He’s messing with your head, and you don’t like it one bit. “Can I at least come in to watch some Netflix? Or whatever you were watching.”
“Why the hell should I let you in?” You raise one eyebrow, challenging him, and Yoongi hums.
“Good question. Well, I’m fucking bored. I have nothing to do tonight.”
“That’s bullshit.” You scoff, and Yoongi furrows his eyebrows, “There’s a party at one of your friend’s frat parties. You could easily just go there.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
“The fuck? What happened to you?” You snort, and Yoongi sighs.
Yoongi was always at a party on or off campus. It was where he sought his next prey, one that looked innocent enough to fall for his charms. And, unfortunately, you were one of them.
“I told you, I’m not in the mood, doll.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, “I just wanna watch something to cure my boredom, and I saw you were online. But if you want me to go, I will.”
“And the first thought was to come here and annoy me?” You click your tongue, and when Yoongi playfully pouts again, your heart gives out like the weak woman you are. “Fine, okay. But no funny business, k?”
“Pinky promise.” Yoongi raises his pinky, and you scrunch your eyebrows, looking at his hand with uncertainty before you wrap your pinky around his.
“Alright, get in.”
It’s a mistake, you know it, the universe knows it—but your body can’t help but jump at any opportunity that opens where you have him for yourself. Where you’re alone with him, without the rest of the world yelling at you just how hurt you will be, just how wrong it is to have feelings Yoongi.
“Holy fuck. Are those Spongebob knee-socks?” Yoongi laughs, and heat covers your chest in embarrassment. Oh fuck—you forgot about those.
“They are very comfortable, okay? Shut up. You can go away if you’re just gonna annoy me like that.”
“Sorry, doll. They’re cute. Very you style.”
You pause at that, “Me style? What the hell does that mean?”
Yoongi shrugs, “They’re just very you. Dunno how to explain it.”
You give him a suspicious look before whispering a small ‘okay’, ignoring the butterflies that fly around the flowers that bloom inside your heart, and you can only hope they won’t be poison to your soul.
He follows you to the sofa after you lock your door, and once he sees what is on your TV, he can’t help but let out a little laugh.
“You’re watching the notebook?”
“Don’t you dare shame me. This movie is a fucking masterpiece.” You huff as you sit on the corner of the couch, and Yoongi chuckles, sitting on the other side, and you’re grateful for the distance between your bodies.
You wouldn’t even want to know how your night would end if he had sitten next to you.
“You got lucky. I literally just started watching it.”
The movie plays, and two hours go by like nothing as you engross yourself with the movie. You couldn’t help yourself to catch glimpses of Yoongi as you both watched the film, your eyes scanning every inch of his beautiful face, your heart screaming for his body to get closer to yours, for you to feel his warmth as if he were yours.
You were completely, utterly mesmerized by the beautiful features that adorn his face. His eyes, twin embers that completely take hold of your being, stop the breath of your lungs, and you can’t function.
You begin to wonder, entering the deadly waters that are to imagine—what would it be like if he were yours?
You yearn to speak, to unveil your heart and get rid of this burden that is carrying this love in silence. Yet your words falter, and you can’t seem to find your voice in his presence. How could you tell your heart beats for him when all he will do is slip through your hands when the words come out of your mouth?
You need more time with him until you have the courage to let him go.
The film finishes and you can sense your eyes and throat stinging from the last scene. Fuck, why did you choose such an emotional film?
“Doll, are you crying?” Yoongi teases with a chuckle, and you grab a pillow, throwing it on his face with all the force you have in your arms.
“Shut the f-fuck up.” You sniffle, and Yoongi continues laughing.
“Asshole.” You scoff, and Yoongi continues to giggle for a little while before you feel a sudden presence beside you. Arms wrap around your crying frame, and your head falls to a chest. His chest.
“I had no idea you were so emotional,” Yoongi chuckles, and you cry even more when you feel slow taps on your head.
The film is long forgotten inside your head, and silent tears fall to your cheeks as your heart pleads for this to be real, for this to last forever, for time to stop and for you to stay here, with him, just like this.
As if he were yours.
As if you were together.
“God,” You sniffle while rubbing your red nose, “This is embarrassing. Ugh.”
“Nah, it’s not. It would be worse if you were an ugly crier.” Yoongi laughs lightly, and you smack his chest while letting out a small chuckle.
“I can’t believe you’re not crying.” Yoongi continues to pat your head, and you can’t help but feel this is oddly domestic. It feels natural, so right that your heart can’t help but ease into the fog of hope that everything will be okay.
It’s dangerous, to forget about the pain in your heart, and maybe you will pay the price later.
“I don’t cry, doll.”
You roll your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, you’re the cold fuckboy without feelings and all that.”
Yoongi snorts, “Yeah.”
“Y’know, crying doesn’t make you weak. Just saying. It can actually make you much more relieved. It’s therapeutic.”
Yoongi hums, “I just haven’t felt like crying in a long time.”
You should let go already.
Staying like this, under his arms when you’re so vulnerable is dangerous. But no sense of danger would ever compare to the feeling of letting yourself go, of falling without the fear of reaching the ground.
“What’s your favourite fruit?”
You furrow your eyebrows and almost laugh at the question, “What?”
“I asked what your favourite fruit is.”
“Uh, I heard it. Why? That’s so random, dude.”
Yoongi clicks his tongue, “I’m not good at dealing with people crying. I’m trying my best here, damn.”
You chuckle, “Aw, that’s cute of you.”
“Shut up and answer the damn question.”
“Jeez okay,” you snort at his defensiveness—maybe you should call him cute more often. “Hm, I’d say apples.”
“Ew.” Yoongi scrunches his face, “Tangerines are so much better.”
“I’m guessing that’s your favourite fruit?” Your lips tug into a small smile while you feel your small tears dry up.
“Fuck yeah, they’re the best thing in this world.”
“They taste disgusting.” You make a small gag sound, and Yoongi scoffs at your words. “Makes sense why you like them.”
“Are you calling me disgusting?” Yoongi stops patting your head, and you can’t help the smirk on your lips.
Teasing and getting on Yoongi’s nerves is your favourite pastime—he falls right into your trap, and you absolutely love it. Who would have thought a man with a reputation such as his could be so easy to lure onto your trap?
“Mmm, maybe.”
You finally have the courage to take your head off his chest, and when your eyes catch him, you feel the world stop. Time is nothing and the universe is only inside his eyes.
“Mm, I’m not so disgusting when you let me fuck you, now am I, doll?” Yoongi chuckles, and you bite your lip, your eyes never leaving his.
“You have a good dick, what can I say?” You shrug, trying hard to contain your smile when his tongue presses on his cheek.
“Fuck, doll. Can I kiss you?” Yoongi whispers, placing his hand on your cheeks.
Your heartbeat picks up its pace.
“You pinky promised no funny business, Yoongi.” You whisper back, eyes falling to his luscious mouth.
“But this isn’t anything funny,” Yoongi smirks lazily and you scoff.
“Fuck you.” Your hand grabs his black t-shirt, and his addicting lips are on yours in mere seconds.
Fuck you for making me feel this way. Fuck you for distracting me. Fuck you for letting me fall in love with you.
author’s note: im dedicating this part entirely to all those who wanted to beat jk’s ass. this is whole heartedly for you!! :D also im sorry if there are mistakes, i’ll look through it again soon but its like… a monster of a fic…
reference pictures for pt 2
Part two: the beloved.
One foot in front of the other; Jeongguk makes his way down the sidewalk in the direction of his apartment complex. It’s warmer out now, a sign that summer is not too far away. He keeps his ears filled with music and his eyes on the figure in front of him, identical plastic bags gripped by both of them.
He wonders what he’s gonna eat for dinner. Does he cook the meat that swings lightly in the bag as he walks, or does he make spaghetti bolognese? Last week, they had big packs of spaghetti for a reduced price at the grocery store that’s only a few minutes away by foot, and since he recently had to throw out his old, expired pack, he grabbed two of them.
His thoughts are interrupted when he watches the person in front of him drop something. It’s a woman, and while she shifted her two bags into one hand to fish her phone out of her pocket, something else followed.
She’s quite a bit ahead of him, but Jeongguk grips his own plastic bag tighter and quickens his pace until he’s jogging. Luckily, there’s not even an inkling of wind, otherwise, the paper bills would’ve flown away before Jeongguk could collect them.
With the money in hand, he begins jogging again, closing in on the woman. It’s in the middle of the day, the sun still high in the sky, and countless people are passing by. If it were dark, and they were alone, Jeongguk doesn’t know what he would’ve done. Or, well, he knows he wouldn’t have run up to a lone woman like he’s in the middle of doing, so he probably would’ve called out as soon as he noticed her dropping something.
“Hey!” he calls, slowing down a few steps behind her. The woman jumps at his voice, but stops and turns around. “You, uh—you dropped this.”
When a single man moves in next door to you and your husband, it wasn’t difficult for either of you to take interest in what he could offer to the dynamic of your lives together. Unfortunately, the new interesting man appears to be afraid to admit that he’s curious as to what happens behind your very unlocked front door.
or the one where your husband, seungcheol, fucks you in front of the window to help the neighbor get off and then said neighbor shows up at the door a week later.
ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | reblog to give gyucheol a kiss on the forehead
WORDCOUNT ― 18.8k
PAIRING ― husband seungcheol x afab reader x voyeur mingyu
CONTENT― husband!cheol, bachelor mingyu, open marriage, exhibitionism, voyeurism, second hand embarrassment, threesome, smut.
WARNINGS ― mentions of mingyu’s ex cheating on him, also seungcheol is assumed to be bisexual and/or he is attracted to mingyu too but there isn’t any dude on dude stuff. seungcheol does put his fingers in mingyu’s mouth tho, deal with it.
NOTE ― i cannot and i will not defend my actions. also, huge shoutout to @homerunhansol for proof reading this for me!!
smut tags below cut:
smut tags― exhibitionism, voyeurism, big dick cheol, HUGE dick mingyu, top/dom(ish) cheol, service top/shy/bottom(ish) mingyu, embarrassment kink???, mentions of porn, masturbation, phone sex kind of?? idk he calls mingyu so he can listen to the shit he’s seeing, alcohol consumption, finger fucking, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, tit fondling, raw grinding, oral (f & m receiving), deepthroating/facefucking, making out, dirty talk, pussy drunk men, cock drunk reader, double vaginal penetration, riding, missionary, finger sucking, cum stuffing, desperate desperate people!!!
~
Mingyu ran from a lot of things. He ran from his ex fiancée when she cheated, he ran from new opportunities out of fear of losing what he already had, ran from a cop once as a teenager for streaking near the old folk’s home. Running wasn’t exactly something he’s fond of but, more often than not it’s what his heart tells him to do.
As stated, the last time he ran away was when his fiancée was found in the bed he paid for with her co-worker. That’s when his need to run came in the most handy, having no qualms with giving her the apartment and everything in it. His job allowed him to leave without much of a financial hit, her’s wouldn’t.
The ring he bought stayed on her finger for some reason, the home he made became one she shared with any man that wasn’t him. It’s okay though, because to him, she can have it. He’s much more comfortable starting over than she would be. So, that’s what he does.
He has money, he has a good job, and now he has a lovely house of his own on a quaint little street on the other side of town. Far far away from her.
Starting over is equally as exhausting as it is exciting but, Mingyu keeps his chin up throughout the process. Making an empty house his new home, working his job as if his entire intimate life didn’t just fall apart, and of course, preparing himself to mingle with the new neighbors.
A month after moving, Mingyu had made platter after platter of food for neighbors as his greeting in an attempt to make friends. Many accepted and returned his dishes washed and unscratched. All are friendly to him but, the majority of people in this neighborhood are middle aged and a bit out of his league. There is one pair of neighbors who appear more around his age though, and interested in actual friendship with him. The pair who brought his dishes back full of their own offer of a decent dinner for him to eat on his own time.
Despite the majority of people living on this street being polite and fond of him as a newcomer, this specific couple appears to be the only ones without an entire family. Just like Mingyu. No children, free time to go out on the weekends, no minivans or babysitters coming every day during working hours. Naturally, he internally clings to the idea of them being his new friends, because his old group of friends consisted of his ex fiancée and her tight-knit group of pompous women and their boy toys.
Seungcheol is the husband’s name, and briefly he met you alongside him a few times. He assumes you must have your own interests to cater to, because each time he finds himself on his own front porch with Seungcheol talking and joking around, you rarely come with him. Save for the one or two times you did stay to hang out for a couple of hours.
After a few months, he’s managed to sprout friendship with the man next door who has a pretty wife with a ring on her finger. Mingyu tries not to internalize that he was supposed to be living the way Seungcheol is. Maybe he’s a bit jealous of the happiness in Seungcheol’s eyes when he talks about you, or maybe it makes him feel like he either wasn’t good enough as a partner, or his ex simply just didn’t love him anymore.
Still, even with the slight jealousy, Mingyu is comfortable around him. He’s never clicked with another man so quickly in terms of friendship, at least not without several shots of hard liquor to get himself comfortable. It’s definitely different with his neighbor.
The guy is open, kind, and occasionally pretty funny. He comes over a few nights a week with the claim of “man-time”. It’s been at least fifteen times since he officially met Seungcheol and comfort comes alongside him when he sits on this porch and they fuck around about menial things. Hanging out with him is arguably like a breath of fresh air.
Seungcheol though, he takes note of a lot of things that Mingyu doesn’t quite seem to notice himself. One, any time he mentions his wife, Mingyu’s eyes falter a bit. Two, he is clearly a single man and Seungcheol can’t quite grasp why that is because he’s a handsome dude, with a level personality. Three, there are slight self-deprecating jokes coming from Mingyu at least five times an hour and it’s starting to make him wonder. At first it can be funny, but after a while it kind of stops being a joke.
So, here they are, joking and having a nice conversation on Mingyu’s porch. It’s a Friday night and Seungcheol assumes they’re close enough by this point to really talk. You’re in the back of his mind, making offers, smirking about the new neighbor, laying down the interest flat out after merely meeting with him a few times. If Mingyu really is a single man, and if he’s as open minded as he seems, perhaps laying down some hints and an invite can help him out of this clear slump that he tries to pretend he’s not in.
“What about you? Do you have someone in your life?” Seungcheol asks after a solid twenty minutes of gushing about you. Internally knowing what he says about you is true, but also trying to sell the idea of how wonderful and sexy you are. He leans back as he studies Mingyu, noting the way he stiffens at the question.
Again, it’s clear that Mingyu is a single man with the way he’s always in this house alone before and after work. On the weekends, he’s sitting on his porch waiting for Seungcheol to come join him. Sometimes there’s a doubt though, because looking at him, anyone would believe he is taken. He is down to earth, funny, kind, handsome as hell. Maybe he does see people and Seungcheol just never catches it.
“Ah, no,” Mingyu avoids eye contact, trying to laugh it off as he confirms Seungcheol’s suspicions. He wants to talk about what happened though. He hasn’t been able to talk about it, and honestly, Seungcheol seems like a trusted friend at this point. “I was with someone for six years, asked her to marry me, and then we broke it off. That’s why I’m here now.”
“Oh yeah? Starting over, huh?” Seungcheol nods politely at him, figuring something like this may have happened. “Can I ask what happened?”
Mingyu shrugs nonchalantly, looking at Seungcheol with a carefree face and a smile.
“She wasn’t the most faithful, you know how it goes with those sorts of things, I guess.”
Seungcheol studies his face a bit more, seeing straight through that carefree attitude and noting the immense amount of hurt Mingyu must feel.
“Oh, that’s lucky.” He responds with a defeated shrug, almost wanting to roll his eyes. “You might be the first man I’ve ever met who hasn’t dealt with infidelity at some point. Even just as a teenager.”
“On the contrary,” Seungcheol says with a smirk, leaning towards Mingyu as if he has a secret to tell. “We fuck other people all the time.”
Mingyu stares at him as he processes those words. Unsure of it that means they both are cheating out of spite, or if they’re about to divorce or something.
“Sometimes in the same bed.”
Oh.
“At the same time.”
Seungcheol dead pan stares at Mingyu, searching for a reaction to his words. There have been many times where he and his wife invite someone to their bedroom, and many more times where the person ended up so freaked out that they ghosted the entire situation. Perhaps out of fear that Seungcheol doesn’t know what he’s doing with his wife. Many people can’t seem to fathom that possessiveness, jealousy, and competition aren’t part of the deal.
You married Seungcheol and he married you long after the two of you started doing this. The trial period was over before it even started. He loved watching you be pleasured, and you loved the way he looked at you as it happened. Of course, not all of the sex involves other people, but it never hurts the marriage when a third shows up.
“Oh–” Mingyu swallows around his dry throat, mind running in several directions at once. He’s not sure how to respond to that information. “That’s cool, I guess.”
Seungcheol stays silent, smirking a bit at the way Mingyu, so huge and broad, stutters to find the words to say. It’s not like he straight up invited him, not yet at least.
“I couldn’t imagine doing that, considering I just left my fiancée for fucking someone else.”
Seungcheol nods both understandingly and apologetically. People do tend to mix up the two. Is it cheating when he watches another man or woman fuck you? To some people, yeah but, monogamy is natural for many people.
“I assume she didn’t tell you that she would be fucking someone else.” Seungcheol shrugs, leaning back again. “I can imagine that even if she did tell you, you’d not have allowed it, right?”
Mingyu nods.
“It puts my stomach in knots to think of someone I love wanting to be with someone else.”
“That’s fair,” Seungcheol starts, glancing away and thinking of how to word what he wants to say. “What if someone else wanted you to fuck the person they love?”
Mingyu freezes again, unsure of if he’s thinking too hard about that question, or not enough.
“I’m sorry, what?” He asks defensively, looking his neighbor dead in the eye.
“I’m not saying you have to take up this offer but, I mean, you’re a single guy. I’m a married guy, with a wife who is incredibly curious about you.”
Mingyu continues to process the words, still overthinking it.
“Is this a joke?” He asks in a quieter voice, whispering as if the entire neighborhood can hear them.
“Are you attracted to her?” Seungcheol continues to press, wondering what it’ll take to get a simple yes or no out of him. He notes the way Mingyu’s ear goes red, and can’t tell if it’s because of the offer or because he’s afraid to call another man’s wife attractive.
“Here, let me rephrase,” He starts over, leaning forward again. “My wife thinks you’re, in her own words, ‘beautiful.’ She asks about you every time I come home from hanging out here, and she’s starting to get persistent.”
Mingyu, still at a loss for words, slowly nods.
“She’s pretty, yeah.” He says, now leaning himself toward Seungcheol and raising a brow in curiosity.
“As a single man, are you looking for love or are you looking for fun?” Seungcheol continues, prying answers out of him and smiling at the way it seems he was right in believing there is interest here.
“I just got out of a six year relationship, I’m not trying to do all of that again,” Mingyu shakes his head in disappointment. “Not for now, at least.”
“So, do you want to fuck my wife?”
Silence.
Seungcheol pinches the bridge of his nose momentarily, seemingly frustrated.
“Look, does it help to know that I want to watch you fuck my wife?”
Louder silence.
“Okay, you clearly need some time to think. Just, if you’re ever interested let me know. I can open the blinds if you want, like a sample or something.”
Seungcheol can see the way his eyes glisten at that offer through his silence. The wavering interest igniting right then and there. Ah, a voyeur, what a perfect addition to this neighborhood of dry vanilla cake. It’s not strange at all to see a monogamous man watching his footing in this situation, but the offer to watch is an entirely different thing from an offer to join right off the bat. Especially since there needs to be boundaries set if he decides he does want to fuck you.
For instance, when did he last get tested? Considering he got duped by his ex, that’s important. Does he like it raw? Does he know the ass belongs to Seungcheol? Etcetera.
“Can you say something? I’m starting to feel like I’m making you uncomfortable.”
“Ah, sorry. It’s just–” Mingyu leans back with a sigh of relief at the general questioning being over and done with. “Yeah, I need to think about it.”
“Don’t think too hard,” Seungcheol laughs. “It’s getting late so, if you need me I’ll be fucking my wife.”
Mingyu watches him stand on his feet and follows the action. Feeling both closer to him and also in a rut of wondering if their entire friendship will rely on whether he wants to fuck his wife or not. Should he like, hug him goodbye or something?
He stands awkwardly as Seungcheol studies him even more.
“Just think about it, really. She loves being watched too, if you don’t want to be involved directly.”
God, he can feel how red his ears and face have become, surely Seungcheol knows by now that the interest outweighs the concerns. And as Seungcheol turns to head down the steps, he calls out to him.
“Let’s say I’m interested but unsure of how to go about it, what then?”
Seungcheol turns to him and smiles, taking a few steps closer so that he doesn’t have to yell out to him.
“It’s sex. If you know how to fuck, you fuck.“
“And if I’m not entirely ready to throw myself into your marital bed?”
“Just let me know, like I said, opening the curtains isn’t the most insane sexual practice.”
Mingyu being the person looking through those curtains though…is it really not as insane as he’s thinking it is?
~
“So…?” You ask as soon as Seungcheol comes through the door, clinging to him with doe-eyes and a smile.
“He seems interested but,” Your husband slides off his shoes and heads straight for the couch to lay against it in a huff. “I don’t know. Just found out his ex cheated on him after like six years, I think the whole idea spooked him.”
“Ah, damn.” You look to the floor, and then make your way onto the couch with him. “What did you say?”
“I asked him if he wanted to fuck you.”
You narrow your eyes at him before rolling them with a frustrated sigh.
“Why would you ask him straight up like that? I cannot believe you pride yourself in being the talker of our sex life. It’s no wonder we have trouble finding people to join.”
Seungcheol looks at you with a fond smirk.
“Would you feel better if I told you that he admitted to thinking you’re pretty?”
You smile, warming up next to your husband and feeling entirely safe here.
“What about if I told you that right before I came back home, he said he was interested and just didn’t know how to go about it?”
A bigger smile forms on your face as you look up at him, devious eyes glistening in the warm lighting of your living room.
“I offered that he can just watch instead. If he takes up that offer, it won't be long before he’s banging on our front door ready to show us a good time.”
You reach up to brush some of his fringe out of his face before releasing a dreamy sigh.
“He’s so big. Like, even from here I can tell he must be packing. I hope you’re right.” You say as Seungcheol rolls his eyes, knowing damn well that Mingyu is your type and you’re probably never gonna shut up about him. “Can’t believe someone cheated on that.”
“Alright, alright.” He playfully complains, shoving you back against the couch and practically smothering you with his form as he flops down on you. “He hasn’t accepted yet, save those compliments for if he joins. He seems pretty shy, probably likes to be doted on.”
“Ooh, shy?”
“Oh yeah, for sure. He was actually stuttering when I made the offer, I don’t think he noticed how red his face got.”
You chuckle at the mental image of Mingyu being shy. You only had to meet him a few times to grow interest in him, but on first glance you’d think he would be the dominant type. It’s a welcome change that your husband thinks he’s the opposite.
“Do you think If I joined you next time, he might be more inclined to pull it out or something?”
“Absolutely not. I can imagine he wouldn’t even come out of his house if he saw you on his porch after what I said to him.”
“God, he’s cute.”
Seungcheol nods against you in agreement, finally pulling his weight from you and standing on his feet.
“Yeah, it’ll be fun to see where this leads. Now if you’ll just follow me to the bedroom, I also told him I’d be fucking you tonight so I’d like to make good on my promise.”
Fortunately for you, Seungcheol never makes a promise that he can’t keep.
~
For days Mingyu contemplates the things his neighbor said. Over the short time he’s known him, he clicked into friendship so easily and felt like he could trust him. Apparently, Seungcheol felt the same way because spilling all of those intimate details right there during a regular hang out was a bit out of the blue. Then again, he can’t imagine a married man would simply offer for anyone to fuck his wife, so the pros definitely outweigh the cons of this situation.
If it was a joke, he thinks he would know by now. All he’s gotten from Seungcheol since then is pleasant conversation as if the offer was never made to begin with. Which somehow makes it worse because he wants to talk about it. He wants more clarity.
God, since then, he’s had nothing but intrusive thoughts of fantasies he’s never considered before. He’s so horny out of his mind on a daily basis thinking about it, especially now that he doesn’t have his ex fiancée around. Porn has never been so loved by him until now. Even when he was a teenager, he never jerked off this much just to calm his thoughts.
The various types of porn he’s viewed within the past five days is insane. The post-nut guilt hit him pretty hard at first, sending him into both a sex crazed and sex starved stupor but, the interest only heightened from there as he would eventually start searching up porn related to the exact thing he’s been offered.
On the sixth night of contemplation, he peeks through his blinds at the house next door and notes the silence. He knows some wild things must happen in that bedroom and he wants to know what it is. Naturally, he starts searching up some keywords without really knowing what any of it entails.
He watches cuckold video after cuckold video, feeling his opinions of fucking another man’s wife validated by the amount of people who seem to love it the way he wants to. Then, exhibitionism comes into play. He watches at least ten videos involving said kink, his cock growing so pathetically hard at the fact that this could be a reality if he wants. Then, voyeurism.
Good lord, that’s him. All of these videos, at least in the ten more he watches, he can easily put himself in the shoes of watching. Which only makes it more arousing when he lands on a video that is clearly scripted, but entirely too similar to what his kind neighbors offered.
There, a man watches through his window, palming himself as a woman gets absolutely railed against her own window. The camera pans to and from both ends of the scenario, for five minutes he watches the woman get fucked from the man’s window view, and then for another five minutes, he watches the man pleasure himself from her view.
He watches intently, weeping cock twitching each time he closes his eyes and realizes that if he wanted it, that could be him. He could be the stranger in his window watching his neighbors get eachother off, except Mingyu isn’t a stranger.
He doesn’t even need to watch the video to imagine now. Thousands upon thousands of videos comfort him in the idea that yeah, maybe involving himself in a marriage that isn’t his own is okay. Seungcheol is a handsome guy, and pretty beefed up himself. Then there’s you, such a pretty fucking woman, walking around like you don’t like to get fucked by multiple people as your husband watches.
Goddamn, if there’s any couple he’d want to be involved with, it would be you and your husband.
Okay, maybe he’s interested and maybe that interest plays out the next day. Or rather, the next evening. Another Friday night, when Seungcheol usually comes over to hang out except this time Mingyu doesn’t respond to his texts until much later. Out of both nervousness and his own mind games hyping himself up.
If he’s gonna watch, he doesn’t want Seungcheol to see him a mere hour or two before it happens, at least.
Now though, ten at night, he hyped up his cock the same way he hyped up his mentality. When he’s horny, it’s much easier for him to work up the courage to lay down his own hints, to show his own interest, and to play along with things he’s never delved into.
Mingyu: Hey um
Seungcheol: here I was thinking you were ignoring me or something
Mingyu: can i ask about something?
Hell yeah he can.
Seungcheol: oh? you finally warmed up to the idea?
Mingyu: i’m just curious.
Seungcheol peeps out his own window to see Mingyu’s blinds very quickly close.
Seungcheol: why’d you back away from the window?
Mingyu: i don’t know, i feel like a weirdo
Seungcheol: i invited you to watch me fuck my wife, Mingyu.
No response.
There’s a few moments of silence on Seungcheol’s end as he turns to you and flicks his head to the window.
“I’m ninety percent sure he wants me to fuck you in front of that window right now.”
“Oh?” You perk up in interest, hopping up from the bed and running over to the window beside your husband and peeking out. “Open them up then. If he watches, he watches.”
Seungcheol nods, looking down at the silence of his text messages and smirking. You’re right, if Mingyu wants to watch, he will.
And so, as you go make yourself up in the bathroom for a good first impression, Seungcheol is quick to work himself up now too. Given, the two of you were about to call it a night and simply sleep since the day was quite exhausting, this is a welcome change of events. After all, Seungcheol knows how you act when you’re both horny and exhausted. He’s sure Mingyu will love it if he works up the courage to just look.
After a few minutes more of silence from Mingyu’s message box, you make your way back into the room and stare at the window.
“Is his bedroom lined up with ours?” You ask, quirking a brow.
“I assume so, yeah.” Seungcheol shrugs, still palming against himself lazily to get ready to put on a show.
“Oh, this could be really fun.” You say, now moving toward the window and pulling at the curtains to move them completely from Mingyu’s presumed view.
Seungcheol follows suit, raising the blinds so fast that the sound is almost laughable.
“Should I go ahead and take off my clothes, or?” You ask now, noting the way Mingyu’s blinds are still very much closed.
“Put this on, tie it loosely and let it fall open for him.” Seungcheol smiles, handing you the silk robe you only ever wear when a third is joining you.
“Oooh, perfect. Let him pine for it.” You laugh with a wiggle of your brows, stepping away from the window to completely undress and put on the robe.
Seungcheol finally texts Mingyu again when you get yourself situated, right there in the view of his dark and silent home.
Seungcheol: blinds are open, feel free to watch.
Thank god Mingyu has read receipts on, because right as Seungcheol goes to lock his phone and play with you, he notes that it’s been read and instantly glues himself against your back.
“He read the messages, keep your eyes at his window, see if he watches.” Seungcheol whispers before snaking an arm around you and slipping it under your robe to instantly rub against your clit.
You do exactly as he says, gluing your eyes to the window directly across from you as you slightly spread your legs and grip the windowsill. Seungcheol is good at this, always great with putting on a show too. You know for a fact that even if Mingyu doesn’t watch, you’re going to be seeing stars whenever your husband deems it appropriate.
“You think he’s gonna do it?” You ask curiously, trying not to immediately lose yourself to the feeling of his fingers against your clit, or the hand he’s currently slipping through your robe to grope and squeeze your tits.
“We can only hope, until then, just enjoy it.” Seungcheol smiles against your neck, kissing the back of it before resting his chin on your shoulder, trying to work you up to where you start to slowly lose your sanity like you always do.
It works out perfectly for him, knowing that whether Mingyu watches or not, he’s going to make damn sure you’re taken care of. His fingers expertly slide up and down the delicate folds of your arousal, and his other hand pinches and rolls your nipple to the point that it’s swollen and sensitive. His kisses against your neck become peppered and gentle as he feels your legs start to shake a bit each time his fingers reach your clit again.
You try to turn your head to look at him, but he laughs again.
“No, keep your eyes on the window.” He says in a raspy whisper, pressing his barely clothed cock against your ass. Thankfully, he’s adjusted himself to where just the tip pokes out of his boxers and feeling the coolness of the silk robe offer a delicate sensation, it satiates his needs for now. “Feels good even like this, right?” He asks, sliding his fingers down to tease with your hole.
You nod against him, breathing in deeply and turning to jelly against him. You love and hate the way he makes your body react. It’s hard to keep your eyes on that window across from you when you’re being offered sheer arousal right behind you.
“Mm, you always get so wet when you know someone might be watching.” Your husband compliments you, dipping his fingers in before sliding them out again and running them up to swirl around your clit with more pressure than before. “God, you’re really soaking my fingers already babe, he doesn’t know what he’s missing out on–”
You let out a small moan, frustrated that you want Seungcheol to be right. If only Mingyu would take the two of you up on the offer. If only he would actually glimpse even for a moment. You clench at the idea of those blinds opening, grinding harshly against Seungcheol’s hand with a desperate sort of sound.
Right then, you see movement next door. Seungcheol can tell with the way your pussy grips his fingers tightly when he slides them back into you, and you let out a genuine and desperate moan. He flicks his eyes up, now noting the movement himself.
The way you writhe your body at the mere confirmation that Mingyu is watching is insanely erotic to your husband. Whether it’s out of curiosity or if it’s out of arousal, it doesn't matter. He loves the way you get so turned on so fast, and with this being the situation, he’s not surprised that you seem more desperate than usual. Plus, the fact that those blinds stay parted shows that Mingyu likes what he’s seeing, and you couldn’t be more aroused by the thought of what he must be doing behind the veil of his own window-blinds.
Seungcheol chuckles gently in your ear as you continue to lose your mind on his fingers, he can tell that now you’re moving to turn both him and Mingyu on, rather than just him like moments ago. You grind more, you whine more, you get increasingly more wet.
And as you stare forward to the little space in Mingyu’s window where his eyes sit, you grow more and more frustrated with the way he doesn’t open the blinds up. You want to see him too, you need to see how he likes to touch himself.
Seungcheol can tell through your frustrated moans that you need more, and like the doting husband he is, he offers a solution fairly quickly.
“What’s wrong?” He coos, fucking his fingers in again at an angle, deepening them inside of you and holding your waist in place. “He’s not giving you what you want, is he?”
You nod brokenly, finally tearing your eyes from the window and shooting a pleading look to your husband, rolling your eyes back only slightly when his fingertips bump the soft and sensitive spot inside of you.
“Use my phone, text him.” Seungcheol smiles, holding your waist in place tighter so he can fuck his fingers in at a harsher pace. You tremble in his grasp, unsure if you can even process the idea of texting right now. “Tell him to let you see him.”
You nod, smiling through the sensitivity of your g-spot being repeatedly assaulted, clearly on purpose, surely to have you going fucking feral. Reaching for the phone, your hands are trembling as you unlock it and read over the messages from before with Mingyu. His curiosity is hopefully strong enough to actually stick around for the next however long, because god, you want him to see you fall apart.
Seungcheol: open your blinds, let me see
Mingyu watches you text as your body jerks with each hidden movement of Seungcheol’s hand under that robe, and when his phone goes off he almost panics. Almost. He drops his length and grabs his phone in one hand while using the other to keep the split of his blinds open enough to keep watching. Fighting the feeling of appearing like a damn stalker, despite his hips rubbing his achingly hard cock against the trim of the window.
The way Seungcheol stares from behind you, the way you smirk through faces of pleasure at what he’s doing to you, at what he must be saying to you. Mingyu has never felt so fucking aroused watching someone have what he wants. The way you skew your head to listen to what your husband is saying, the way his hands move to places he can’t see. Arguably, you look like the most fuckable person on this planet at the moment and it’s incredibly difficult to not want to fuck something, anything, right now.
Mingyu knows he’s done for if he so much as grips his own cock by now. So quickly the thought of doing this made his pathetic cock weep against his briefs, and now, seeing it happen in real time just across the yard. Yeah, he could come within seconds if he doesn’t try to control it. Upon reading your text though, he finds himself following precise directions and opens the blinds for you to reveal himself.
His face flushes seeing you in full without the blinds cutting off his peripheral vision. It kind of hits him differently realizing he’s in his own quiet bedroom fucking himself to the image of you propped up against the window for him. It’s embarrassing and he feels entirely pathetic when you look at him like this. Both so far away and so close at the same time. His senses are heightened tenfold the moment he sees you react.
An accidental moan splills from his lips, the sound breaking the heavy silence of his home and echoing through the walls as if to tell whatever ghosts that live here that he definitely wants to fuck around with the married couple next door. Your attraction to him only heightens the confidence he holds within himself.
You, on the other hand, can feel your arousal drip out of you and onto your husband’s hand at seeing Mingyu coming into full view. Your hand grips at your husband’s, clumsily allowing yourself to feel the sheer force of how his fingers are plunging into you just at the right moment. You roll your head back briefly, basking in the pleasure of being fucked and watched.
“Don’t look away babe,” Seungcheol says, flicking his eyes to Mingyu. “He’s so hard.”
You weakly lift your head again, opening your darkened eyes and looking directly at the man through the window. His hair is a mess, fanning across his forehead, and he’s shirtless, revealing the abs you only assumed he had at first glance. His cock is heavy against his dark gray briefs, stretching the fabric out enough to tell you that, yeah, he is packing.
You make eye contact with him, staring straight into his eyes as you press your ass back and against Seungcheol, who readily accepts the movement and presses his cock directly against you with a soft sigh of his own.
“Already?” He whispers to you with an amused chuckle, stilling his fingers and dropping his other hand to toy at the tie of your robe, hopefully so it falls open naturally at a quicker pace now that you appear to be losing it.
“Right now.” You respond in a desperate voice, hiking one leg up against the table off to the side and feeling your robe instantly fall open.
Your eyes devour the image of Mingyu’s mouth falling open in what you can only assume is a moan at your naked body being revealed to him. Instantly, you shoot your hand to your chest and start toying with one of your nipples for him. Shooting a hungry gaze straight across the way and making obvious suggestions at him through it.
Seungcheol from behind you is seemingly in his own little world when he shoves his boxers down and arches your back with his palm so that your ass lifts for him, instantly you can feel his cock between your legs. He takes a step back, pulling you with him and removing your leg from the table to position you in a way that if Mingyu looks hard enough, he can see the way his cock will slide beautifully between your thighs.
“Not yet babe, let’s play first.” Seungcheol soothes you through the disappointed sigh of your leg being pulled down. You were so ready to start fucking immediately, but of course he wants to make a good first impression. “Hold your legs together.”
You listen perfectly, feeling Seungcheol’s cock slide easily between your thighs.
“God, fuck–” He moans, feeling the wetness of you drip down onto his length as you squeeze your thighs together as tightly as possible. “He would go insane over you.”
“He already is,” You chuckle weakly, staring at the way Mingyu’s hand snakes under his briefs and tugs against himself. “I want to see it so bad.”
“Mm, yeah, I bet you do.” Seungcheol responds mindlessly, loving the feeling your thighs offer to his desperate length. “Tell him then.”
Right then, Mingyu can see a mischievous little smile form across your lips as he struggles already not to release against his perfectly cleaned window. The way Seungcheol manhandles you is one thing, with his big hands gripping onto your flesh just to pound his cock between your legs– fuck. But, the way both of you stare straight at him is another. Mingyu might be obsessed with the way the two of you touch each other intentionally to get all three of you off. So badly does he want to be right there in the room, hearing you in his ear, watching Seungcheol kiss across your skin and massage your pretty sensitive pussy. One that he hasn’t entirely even gotten to see yet.
Then, he jumps as his phone rings.
From your end, you watch as he jumps out of surprise, glances at his phone, then back at you, shaking his head with a wince as he grips his cock again.
“He’s not going to pick up.” You comment as the tightened squeeze of your thighs loosen up with disappointment.
Seungcheol is instantly smiling, letting his cock fall from its place of stimulation and is pulling you back, back, back. Offering a full view of him falling back on the bed, with you falling with him.
“Show him your pussy.” Seungcheol says, reaching around you to open your thighs as if you’re a grand prize for this little sex game of trying to seduce a broken hearted man.
Seungcheol knows he has an entire list of positions he could do to get Mingyu just as desperate as you get. Usually, presenting his wife’s pussy at another man is enough to have them making decisions they previously doubted. He hopes Mingyu reacts the same, because if he’s being totally honest with himself, saying no to you when you’re spread out like this is a fucking sin.
You stare at Mingyu when your husband spreads your legs, pussy pulsing around nothing more than the stare being directed at it. And there, sitting on Seungcheol’s hips with your back facing him, you easily hold your legs open and slide your fingers down to circle your clit.
You stay like that for a moment, squinting to see Mingyu’s reaction and noting the way his hand fucks faster under the fabric of his briefs. You want him to go harder, so hard that he needs to take that last remaining bit of clothing off of him so that you can see. Thankfully, Seungcheol’s cock lies right below where your ass is sitting , and it’s easy to grasp it and hold it up against your folds. You grid against it gently before swirling your clit along the length of him, still staring at Mingyu with a smile. As if to tell him, “this could be you.”
The way Mingyu’s hand moves faster is one thing, the way he looks more unashamed now compared to when you first saw him in that window is another. The way his arms flex as he keeps his cock hidden beneath those briefs, jerking himself off desperately as if you can’t tell he’s struggling not to moan loud enough for you to hear even from here, it’s too fucking erotic.
Never have you and your husband had a neighbor to play with like this. Typically, you’re being watched in the same room, this is something entirely different. This is insanely arousing and you can feel your pussy clench each time you’re reminded of how fucking sweet this deal could be.
“Play with yourself,” Seungcheol continues to instruct through a half-moan, feeling the way you rub his length against you as a form of masturbation. “I’ll call him again.”
This time, you note how the phone rings once before Mingyu is fumbling to answer. You see the way his hand stills to put his focus on saying “hello?” as if he doesn’t know it’s you and your husband. As if the people calling him aren’t watching him fuck himself.
Seungcheol starts immediately though, his words driving you insane enough to know Mingyu would have to react in a way that sends him over edge too.
“You wouldn’t believe how wet she is,” Your husband boasts without greeting him back, putting the phone on speaker and lying it next to the two of you. “I bet you would love to bury your tongue in her right now, wouldn’t you?”
Mingyu nearly stutters as he hears the words, staring at the way you hold Seungcheol’s cock right where you want it to grind against. It’s so much to be able to see and hear what’s happening, and it’s like something in his head clicks. He’s so fucking turned on that he feels like he’s going insane, so he puts his normal, level-minded self to rest. No room for embarrassment when his cock is already aching for the couple who seem to want him just as bad.
“Fuck, yeah,” Mingyu sighs out, lying his own phone down against the window sill and fucking his hips forward into his hand. His briefs now stretched out to the point that they truly are more of an issue than anything else right now. “I would, god, how wet?”
You moan at how desperate his voice sounds, now pressing your clit directly against the head of Seungcheol’s cock and deliberately making yourself moan from pleasure. When he flashes his cock to you though, fuck. Just barely he lowers his briefs, palm teasing himself in such a harsh way. He looks so pretty over there, all alone, watching someone else get to play with you like some kind of pervert.
“That’s it,” You say, knowing he can hear you. “Let me see you.”
Mingyu does, shoving his briefs down entirely now, allowing you to imprint the image of how thick and heavy his length is in your brain permanently.
“I can already imagine how good it would feel to have you stretching me out,” You half-groan, now inching your husband’s cock straight to your hole and preparing to fuck the daylights out of him. “I knew you’d have a cock just as pretty as you.”
Seungcheol chuckles from behind you, entirely aroused by the way you talk to another man, a more shy man. He can tell how desperate you are by now too, especially with the way you toy with his cock as if you picked it up from a store shelf and it’s not attached to him. He loves it. And when he sits up, wrapping his arms around you to also see Mingyu, he smiles.
Fucking both of you are totally gone. Even from here he can tell Mingyu is losing his mind over you. Thankfully, you deserve nothing less and Seungcheol couldn’t be happier to play off of the way you both seem to want each other terribly.
“See this?” He says, snaking his hand around you to move his cock and spreading your pussy lips.”Can you not see how wet she is?”
Both of you can hear Mingyu’s muffled groan before you see it, his head falling forward against the window as he stares down at his hand and the way he fucks it. You’re entirely satisfied, because you know what he’s thinking. You can see how badly he wants it, and your husband does nothing but remind him of it.
“Do you want me to fuck him?” You finally ask, pushing your own agenda and raising up on your knees to situate yourself right above Seungcheol’s length, where he takes over and holds it in place for you.
Mingyu’s eyes shoot back to the two of you and he nods before breathing out a small “Yeah…”
He doesn’t seem like much of a talker, but it could still be stage fright. Even if he isn’t the one on the damn stage. You can imagine he would get better at this if he accepts the invite of your open blinds on more than one occasion.
Seungcheol chuckles again at him, the breathy tone of his voice is quite obvious to him. Mingyu is holding out, he doesn’t want to come too soon and end the fun.
“You heard him babe, ride me.”
Instantly, you’re sinking down and feeling the harsh stretch of Seungcheol’s cock pulsing inside of you. Your drawn out moan rings in Mingyu’s mind as he watches the slow descent. Only now noting how big Seungcheol’s length is, and seeing how well you take it. He twitches in his palm, eyes nearly rolling back to escape the overwhelming arousal that floods his thoughts.
Mingyu isn’t sure if either of you are aware, but he can hear how wet you are through the phone. When you slide down and start bouncing your ass, all while staring forward at him, he can hear it pour out of you. The slapping of your ass landing against Seungcheol is a beautiful sound, and he does his best not to moan through it and muffle those sounds out.
He stares straight back at you, thinking hard enough at how he fucks the circle his fingers create. He’s losing his breath when he fucks his fist in time with the way you bounce, tuning into your face and imagining that he’s the one you’re riding. No offense to Seungcheol, it’s nearly like he doesn’t exist right now considering he’s almost entirely hidden by you.
That doesn’t last too long though, because Seungcheol makes himself well known through his breathy words. Dirty talking in a way that somehow, Mingyu still finds himself shocked by it. The words turn him on, he can only imagine how you feel about.
“Fuck, babe, you’re so tight. I bet you’d love to be spread out for both of us,” Seungcheol says at first, gripping your thighs and basking in the way you squeeze his length each time Mingyu does something to turn you on. “Don’t you think he would love to feel how you drip from this?”
Mingyu feels so shameless, and for some reason it feels okay. Your husband is dirty talking to you about him and it’s insanely sexy when he hears it. Already stuttering his hips in his palm, especially when he notes that Seungcheol moves his hands to your pussy and spreads it open again for him. Offering him the perfect view of his length sliding in and out of you.
“Would love to see how this pussy gets filled up, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Unsure of if Seungcheol is talking to you or to him at this point, Mingyu answers without thinking.
“Fuck, fuck. Yeah–” Mingyu says with a cut-off groan, holding the base of his cock so tight he feels like he can’t breathe. He can’t release yet, he has to keep going.
You moan loudly at his breathed out answer, nodding your head frantically at the confirmation, answering for yourself shortly after.
“You’d make me come so fast, Gyu, I know you’d know how to fuck me,” You start, not realizing the shortened version of the name you’d called out.
And then he moans brokenly through the phone which instantly has you leaning yourself back, and lying against Seungcheol’s chest. He falls back with you, holding you and once again and moving his fingers to your clit, his cock still pounding in at the perfect pace.
“Fuck, she’s there–” Seungcheol grits out, feeling your orgasm wash over you and grip his cock insanely tightly. “Goddamn, feels so good babe, that’s right.”
Mingyu, watching and listening, instantly releases the grip on the base of his cock, staring straight at the way Seungcheol stuffs his length inside of you. The nickname you called him echoes in his head, and then he stutters out a broken sob as he feels his own orgasm wash over him, and just like him, you’re also listening.
He must hold his breath when he’s close, or maybe he’s just way more shy than he appears to be, considering what he’s doing right now, but you don’t mind as you ride your own high. Ears popping shortly after when Seungcheol continues to chase his own pleasure within your dripping heat.
Strangely enough, even Seungcheol is shocked at how fast he comes from this. Releasing a mere two seconds after you relaxed around him. You can feel him pulse inside of you as you lie against him, pussy still on full display, cum dripping out of you in a beautiful scene for Mingyu’s eyes to devour.
And devour, they do. Mingyu just stares, head spinning as he ignores the spurts of cum hitting his window and dripping down onto his carpet. His hand is also drenched in his own heat and he makes no attempt to move afterwards. Arguably, he’s still aroused by the image of the way your husband fills you up with his own seed, and the way you’re so full of his cock that it dribbles out and onto your thighs.
God, he wants to lick you so bad. Even now, fully spent and his sober-mind coming back to him, he wants to taste you.
“Mingyu,” Seungcheol calls out, breaking the silence with an out of breath voice. “You still watching?”
There’s another moment of paused silence.
“Yes– I am.”
Seungcheol smiles, nuzzling his face against you and your neck as you continue to lean against him out of breath. Slowly, he pulls out of you, once again spreading you open for Mingyu to see, allowing the rest of his cum to drip out of you.
“Take a good look, because this pussy went fucking insane over you.”
Mingyu does look. He has been looking. Honestly, it’s almost embarrassing at the way his cock twitches with interest again, so fucking fast after having already been emptied.
“I’ll be coming over tomorrow to discuss this.” Seungcheol adds nonchalantly, easily going from filth-talk to casual-talk. “Get some rest.”
“Goodnight, Pretty boy,” You call out with a dazed smile, finally moving yourself off of Seungcheol and adjusting your robe back onto your shoulders.
And right before Seungcheol hangs up the phone, both of you smile at each other at the way Mingyu lets out, in the tiniest voice for such a big man, a gentle little “Goodnight.”
~
By morning, Mingyu nearly forgot Seungcheol said he was coming over. It wasn’t until the afternoon when he managed to get the image of you getting off out of his mind that he remembered there’s supposed to be a discussion about it.
Embarrassment hits him harder than it ever has, thinking about what he was doing for both of you to see. It wasn’t just a show for him, he put one on for the two of you as well.
When he makes his way back into his bedroom, he tries to ignore the fact that your blinds are still open, and there’s no one in the room. He pauses briefly, once again trapped in the on-going loop of what he saw happening on that very bed just the night before.
It feels like he’s doomed when Seungcheol comes over. He could just not answer the door but it doesn’t change the fact that he lives right next door and he already came all over his window before your very eyes. Before Seungcheol’s very eyes. He’s already crossed the boundary into someone else’s marriage and despite loving the idea of it, it’s scary. It’s not something he’s ever considered doing before meeting the two of you, and now, he’s kind of just confused as to how all of this works.
Like, it almost seems too sweet of a deal. You’re a beautiful couple, who is he to be able to watch what you do with your husband? What’s the catch?
Well, he comes to find out that there isn’t much of a catch at all. Seungcheol shows up with a warm smile and a gift of wine. It felt welcoming but, insanely awkward with the way it’s the first time Mingyu has ever been offered a hug by him.
They hug. Seungcheol fucking hugs him to say hello with that expensive ass bottle of wine as if to say “nice cock, my wife loved it.”
Seungcheol does pick up on the awkwardness though, stepping through Mingyu’s door and inviting himself in. After all, it’s only appropriate at this point. He keeps his smile though, loving the way you woke up in a good mood all thanks to Mingyu letting his curiosity get the best of him.
“Don’t be like that,” Seungcheol says, glancing around the house and nodding in approval that it doesn’t appear to be entirely barren. He kind of expected the house to not feel like a home, because that’s usually what single men do. “You can back out anytime you want.”
Mingyu, somehow, feels eased by those words. His heart thumps against his chest at the thought of never doing it again though. Which is kind of weird to him.
“Sorry, I just don’t really know how to act around you after that.”
Seungcheol offers him a warm smile again, seeing himself to the kitchen and opening the drawers.
“We can talk about that,” He waves him off, still rummaging through a kitchen that isn’t his own. “You got a corkscrew?”
Mingyu nods, trying to make his huge frame seem as small as possible by tip-toeing past his neighbor with the huge cock and opening one of the only drawers he didn’t get to. He pulls out the corkscrew and hands it to him, making no attempt to look into his eyes even for a second.
“Oh my god, loosen up.” Seungcheol rolls his eyes, shoving Mingyu by the shoulder playfully and heading back to the bottle of wine.
Mingyu feels slightly comforted by the fact that maybe he can loosen up with a bit of wine in his system, but getting to that point feels like it’s going to be hell. He’s never felt so embarrassed.
“Sorry,” He responds in a small voice, grabbing two random cups and following Seungcheol. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to expect out of this whole thing, like,”
Seungcheol cuts him off with a wave of his hand.
“That’s why I’m here to talk to you about it. Clearly this isn’t something you’ve done before, it’s not like we didn’t want you to get off or anything. You’ll come to learn that we enjoy this kind of thing.”
He pauses as he opens the bottle, shifting it to the side now to grab two cups and look at Mingyu.
“If you end up not enjoying it, there’s always someone else we can find to take up the offer.”
Mingyu very nearly panics, hoping it doesn’t show plainly on his face as he takes over pouring the wine. Seungcheol picks up on people so easily, watching Mingyu shake his head slightly at the words and pour a suspiciously nervous amount of wine into both cups.
“That’s the thing though,” Mingyu says, popping the cork back into the bottle and already taking a swig of his wine. “I did enjoy it.”
Seungcheol raises his brow, nodding his head in encouragement and grabbing his own cup before following Mingyu to his living room.
“Good, I’m glad you had fun. Let’s talk about it then.”
Mingyu knows it’s inevitable, and hopefully within the next hour, he won’t feel so cautious in talking about it.
~
“You know, usually I wouldn’t let her come so fast,” Seungcheol shrugs, standing to grab the bottle of wine and bring it into the living room. “I tend to try and get a few out of her but she just wasn’t going to let me. Did you see the way she grabbed it and sat on me? I couldn’t have stopped her even if I wanted to.”
The way Seungcheol talks loudly and comfortably about it is kind of soothing. Given, this is probably why they’re opting to hang out inside of the house rather than outside. This is a private matter, an intimate one, even.
“She slept like a rock afterwards, and is now insisting we keep the blinds open at all times to view at your discretion.”
Mingyu stutters a bit, scooting his cup towards Seungcheol and hoping he pours another generous amount into his cup. Already, since he doesn’t drink too often these days, he can feel the buzz and comfort settles within him as Seungcheol seemingly dotes on him.
“What I’m trying to say is, our blinds are permanently open unless you’d rather not do this. Alternatively, the door is open too, but,” Seungcheol pauses so he can sip his drink. “You’re going to need to get tested first if you want that thing anywhere near my wife.”
Mingyu shifts slightly, squeezing his legs together uncomfortably as his wine bubbles in his belly.
“I’ve already been tested. My ex cheated on me with god knows how many people, you think that wasn’t the first thing I did?”
“Smart man,” Seungcheol claps him on the shoulder, now leaning in a bit too close for comfort if Mingyu were still in his embarrassed mind-state. “We get that you’re shy about all of this, but I’ve gotta tell you, her pussy really did grip every single time you moaned.”
Mingyu’s eyes start to shine at the compliment, for some reason feeling like he’s on top of the world hearing that.
“Felt like I was being strangled, honestly.” Seungcheol laughs before going quiet. “So, what do you think?”
Mingyu pauses, staring at his cup and then at his neighbor.
“I, um–” He sighs out of frustration, wondering why he can’t articulate a damn sentence with confidence. “I liked watching, I guess. Not sure if I’m ready to just…”
“Come fuck my wife?” Seungcheol says playfully before immediately gripping Mingyu’s shoulder and laughing fondly at him. “Take your time. Like I said, the blinds are open and we have a pretty active sex life. I can imagine you’re going to wonder how I’m not milked dry yet.”
He already wonders that.
“But I do want to say, if you decide to actually come over and show her a good time, there are rules to that.”
Mingyu quirks a brow, unsure of if his mind is running in a way that will let him take down mental notes.
“First of all, she’s protected so as long as you can provide proof of your test you can come in her all you want, she likes that but, you’re not touching her ass.”
Mingyu nods, shrugging nonchalantly and surprised he even responded that way.
“She likes it rough but she doesn’t know you enough yet. Don’t slap my wife, don’t grab her neck with the intention of choking her, and don’t call her any type of degrading name. Not yet, at least.”
Wow, his brain is actually taking down the mental notes perfectly. Even with these rules, he’s not entirely into hitting the person he wants to be inside of, not unless they ask anyway.
“That’s it. Those are the rules.” Seungcheol says with a shrug, taking another drink and tapping his foot on the floor. “What about you? For possible future endeavors, what’re your terms?”
There’s a long pause. Mingyu is totally unprepared to make rules for a situation he’s never even been involved with before, but he does his best.
“Well,” He breathes out, blowing a strand of his fringe up from his forehead in a huff. “I don’t know. Don’t put anything in my ass?”
“That’s no fun,” Seungcheol deadpans, then nods. “But fair, okay. What else?”
Mingyu continues to let his eyes wander around his living room as he thinks of things he doesn’t like sexually.
“I really don't know. I’ve mostly just had vanilla sex. I can tell you what I do like?” He admits, knowing that all of this is just in case.
“Alright, go on then.” Seungcheol nods, now topping off their drinks.
It’s actually hilarious to him, hearing Mingyu list off the most mundane sex acts. He does his best not to chuckle at the mention of “blow jobs, I like those.” Instead, he offers something along with that, interrupting him.
“Ever been deep throated?” Seungcheol asks, watching Mingyu breathe in because it’s like he lost all of his breath trying to list off things he likes. “Like, you know, ever face-fucked?”
Mingyu nods, then shakes his head, then nods.
“Define both of those. I mean, my ex never really let me hold her head in place, but I tried once. And don’t even get me started on the way she would refuse to continue if she gagged even once.”
Seungcheol shakes his head in pity.
“Man, you’re gonna love my wife.”
~
Well, to put it lightly, Mingyu might, definitely, insanely, obsessively be in love with you. Not in like the “leave your husband” way but more in like the “i want you so bad and know that i’m allowed to have you if i’d just stop being a little bitch about it” way.
It’s been another entire week since Seungcheol came over to discuss things with him and even more so now, is Mingyu’s mind in the gutters. He’s thankful he’s good at his job, almost able to do everything needed without much thought behind it because if that weren’t the case, he would probably be fired by now.
Fired for being too horny at work isn’t something he ever considered would happen to himself, and though it hasn’t and probably won’t, he isn’t too shocked at this point to be learning more and more about these hidden little interests that only came to light when he met you and your husband.
Those blinds do stay open, and that little bedside lamp in your bedroom has become one of his favorite things. One, because it illuminates the way your body moves when Seungcheol inevitably fucks you, two, because it’s actually a pretty nice lamp and he kind of wants one for his own bedroom.
And god, his window. His poor fucking window. Four out of the seven nights since Seungcheol came over has he been standing right there, blinds open, getting himself off. He knows he’s a pervert by this point. He embraces it now, knowing for a fact that you’re also embracing it, and even Seungcheol is too.
The embarrassment that hits him after each time he releases hurts much less than the post-nut guilt of all that porn he was watching before all of this happened. He’s not sure why, but there’s something inside of him that tells him it’s because he’s wanted. He’s being fawned over by an entire married couple and it makes his confidence go through the fucking roof.
That second time he stood at his window, he was still unsure of it. But now, three more sessions later, he finds himself considering the offer of being in the room. Each time he thinks he should do it. You know, like release his cock mid-jerk off session just to run next door and barge into the room to bury himself inside of you, all while Seungcheol allows it to happen and praises him for manning up to do it.
He hasn’t yet though, because most of the time he struggles to pull his eyes away from how fucking good the two of you look together. And you know, to him, when he thinks about actually being in that room with the two of you, there’s still some shame left in him about it.
Something about the idea of joining a married couple despite how much he loves watching them, the idea of them asking him multiple times to work his body on you, the idea of them leaving their blinds open just so he can get off at his own volition.
It’s such an insane fantasy come to life and the shame he feels about actually following through stays despite it wavering with each time he watches and listens in by calling you himself to hear you moan.
Again, by now, an entire week later and several sessions of pure voyeurism, he questions that shame and wonders how much it’ll take to ignore it. Next time for sure he’s going to go over there. Next time, he’s going to put that shame to rest like he did the first time with simply watching.
That next time doesn’t happen though, because you’re not wandering around your room naked for Mingyu to see when his alarm goes off. Because yeah, it’s kind of a ritual now to look out the window and nod a little “good morning” to you and your tits.
When he looks outside near the afternoon, both cars in your driveway are gone and it hits him over how fixated he is on the two of you. It feels almost empty seeing the two of you gone on a weekend, when Seungcheol is usually texting him to see if he wants to hang out.
By this point for him, yes, come over please.
Then, relief washes over him when he hears Seungcheol’s car pull into the driveway. The amount of pining within Mingyu at this moment is driving him insane. It’s only four in the afternoon by this point and his mind is reeling. Going miles a minute and honestly, he needs this overwhelming feeling to be eradicated.
He needs to do it.
~
Seungcheol is shocked as he sits eating his dinner to the sound of a knock at his door. He’s swift when he stands to his feet and answers it.
“Oh, was gonna text you to hang out after dinner–” He pauses, realizing this is the first time Mingyu has ever been on his doorstep save for when he greeted them with a meal after he moved in. He eyes him up and down momentarily before smirking. “Well, well, well.”
Mingyu doesn’t quite make eye contact as he stands there and shoves the proof of his tests into Seungcheol’s chest, already regretting the decision to come over without so much as texting.
“Showing up looking like this, already hard too?” Seungcheol says snidely, glancing at the results and leaning himself against his door frame. His eyes stare directly at Mingyu’s obvious raging hard-on beneath his pants, then he glances up at his face.
Mingyu appears to be both ashamed and proud, presenting himself like a damn virgin.
“Relax, it’s cool. You can come in,” Seungcheol finally says, trying to ease the tension that seems to be festering within his friend. “I’ll call and see if she’s coming home tonight.”
Mingyu is fucking mortified. Of course he’s bad at timing. Of fucking course he shows up ready to fuck and you’re not even here. Now he’s just left standing just inside of the front door with a desperate and pathetic cock that, for some reason, still isn’t even going down.
“She’s. not. here.” Mingyu says to himself loud enough for Seungcheol to throw a laugh at him, putting the phone up to his ear after pressing the call button.
“She went to see her parents. I bet the second I tell her you’re standing there like that, hot ‘n hard, she’ll be running red lights.”
Mingyu is flushed. Entirely aroused by this whole situation despite the embarrassment. The last thing he needs to admit to right now though, is getting off on the shameful way he’s acting. He knows he looks desperate, and that…for some reason, makes him feel proud.
He’s so in his head that he doesn’t even hear Seungcheol talk to you. Completely misses the way he says into the phone “hey babe, guess who is standing in our living room right now? he looks like he might cry.”
Totally misses the brief pause and then Seungcheol’s response of, “yeah, you might wanna rush.”
Luckily for him though, he’s so in his head that time flies as he tries to will his length to go down just a little bit. It’s frustrating, really, to only learn certain things as they happen to him, but like, damn. He really feels like he’s about to burst already, just standing here with a woman’s husband who is knowingly about to let him fuck her.
“You’re not usually this quiet.” Seungcheol finally says to Mingyu, who is still just standing there in the living room. “Are you nervous?”
Mingyu instantly nods, throwing his hands in front of his hard-on and looking to Seungcheol.
“This is the worst, actually,” Mingyu starts, shifting from one leg to the other and glancing away. “Fuck you guys for being so enticing.”
Seungcheol shrugs proudly, offering a smile and then nodding his head as if to invite Mingyu to sit on the couch.
“She’ll be here soon, I’m just going to clean up. Don’t think too hard and take off running, she’s excited.”
Mingyu nods reluctantly, taking a seat on the couch and staring up at the ceiling in defeat. Jumping out a window sounds pretty nice but by this point he assumes every window he will ever touch probably has his cum on it by now. You know, association and stuff.
Then, he hears a car pull up and he’s practically throwing himself to his feet. His balance turning him into a clumsy mess, totally forgetting how to navigate his large body and entirely losing the ability to know how to navigate this entire situation.
The good news for him though, is that you practically jump out of your car and sprint for the door. Not even greeting Seungcheol when you rush inside and slip off your shoes.
All Mingyu knows is that, one second he stands to his feet and gets a head rush, then he hears a door slam, Seungcheol letting out a breathy laugh, and then you slamming into him and practically knocking him back down onto the couch.
“All this time you made me watch? And now you show up when I’m at dinner with my parents.” You playfully scold him, immediately straddling him and grabbing his face with both hands so that he can look at you. “You’re going to have to tie me up if you don’t want me to be all over you right now.”
Mingyu looks at Seungcheol with a stunned expression, receiving a simple shrug in response.
“You want her to touch you?” He asks, heading for the bedroom and raising his voice to continue. “If not, I do have rope.”
Mingyu looks at you, still totally stunned by how fucking fast you got on top of him. He’s rendered more speechless than you’ve ever made him, and his cock twitches painfully from the sensitivity of you sitting on top of him.
He nods politely, dipping his head and looking down.
“You can touch me.” He whispers, only to be cut off by Seungcheol shouting from the bedroom.
“You guys gonna come into the bedroom, or?” He yells, peeking around the corner and shooting a look at you specifically, as if to remind you to pace yourself considering that Mingyu is entirely new to this and still seems like a deer in the headlights.
You nod to Seungcheol and then lift Mingyu’s face back up to you again.
“I can tell your heart is racing,” You say to him in a fond tone, tilting your head playfully. “It’s okay, come on.” You add, pulling yourself off of him and grabbing his hand.
He stares at the way you intertwine your fingers. Feeling like if he thinks hard enough, you’re not married and you’re more into him than just sex. Then again, he doesn’t want to think about that at all. The whole reason he’s so turned on is because this is considered strange to most people he knows. He doesn’t even want to be in love, he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with any single person right now. What he wants is this. What he wants is to watch you through his window, and lust over you, and then get to have you. Time and time again. What he wants is for Seungcheol to always share you with him, because he can barely cross his own boundaries, better yet crossing someone else's.
At least with him, you’d be safe. Seungcheol wouldn’t have to worry about broken rules or him coming into your home to take full control. This isn’t his relationship, it’s yours, and if the two of you want him involved even with just sex, he’s leaping for the opportunity at this point.
There, he’s led into the bedroom where Seungcheol looks at him with a fond expression. Mingyu stares for a moment, then looks around the room. It feels like he’s been pining to be in this very room for ages, and knowing he’s standing here right now feels even more overwhelming.
He glances at the window, looking through it into his own open blinds and the embarrassment hits him twice as hard, which obviously has his cock aching in arousal. He isn’t even ashamed of the little, breathy whimper of defeat he lets out at this moment, rolling his eyes back and furrowing his brows.
You let go of Mingyu and take your place beside Seungcheol, both of you checking Mingyu out from head to toe before looking at each other and smiling.
“I don’t even know where to start,” Seungcheol admits, feeling defeated that for the first time in his sex life with you, he doesn’t know how to get the ball rolling. “Why does this feel so intimate compared to usual?”
You laugh, now staring down both of them, wanting nothing more than to fuck and be fucked. The air in this room feels electrifying, and already you have goosebumps rising against your skin. It feels like heaven.
“Probably because he’s so close to home,” You chuckle, feeling totally in control with two lost men staring at you as if they want to eat you alive. “Isn’t that right, Mingyu?” You say, taking a step towards him and already lifting your shirt off of you.
Just as quickly as Seungcheol loses his ability to be the one in control, he gains it back after seeing how confident you are. He knows for a fact how badly you want to be on Mingyu right now, and he has no qualms with that, but part of the fun is being able to present you until the third in the room is practically drooling.
“Not too quickly,” Seungcheol warns, pulling you back by the arm and wrapping his arms around you, dipping his head down to kiss your neck and look Mingyu directly in the eye. “Watch him for a bit first.”
Mingyu feels so fucking seen right now, his cock still wildly twitching at each word and glance. He very nearly falls to his knees right then, because in all fairness he’s been rock hard all fucking day and intentionally held off so that he would be so out of his mind, that surely he’d fuck you as good as you need him to.
“Cheol, I’ve been watching him.” You say, leaning against his warmth and devouring Mingyu with your eyes, “C’mere, Gyu.” You add, giving both men shortened versions of their names to show your adoration for them at this moment.
Mingyu manages to take a step forward without his knees buckling from under him, his eyes scanning your bare torso and the way your chest is hidden by your bra. He can’t not stare, after all, he’s grown accustomed to it by now. He knows what's under that bra and what’s under those pants, but it still doesn’t change the fact that he’s never seen your body this close. He’s never touched you before.
“Well?” Seungcheol looks at him as he makes his way across the room a bit too slowly for his liking. “We have all day, technically.”
Mingyu switches his eyes over to Seungcheol, who seems amused by how enamored he is right now with you. His mind is fairly blank right now, outside of thinking about everything he wants to do, everything he wishes he could say, but still, all he can manage to do is stand in front of you, still not reaching out. He looks at the way Seungcheol has you locked in his arms, holding you still against his chest as if to tame a beast from him.
“You’re so pretty, Mingyu, really.” You say, blinking up at him and tapping Seungcheol to loosen his grip on you. “You can touch me too, you know.”
He’s still reluctant, looking to Seungcheol once again for confirmation and receiving a nod. His hands reach out, touching nothing more than your bare shoulder before sliding down your waist and stepping even closer.
You can feel the warmth radiating off of them as they sandwich you there between them. Seungcheol and his confident breaths behind you easily contrast to Mingyu’s deeper, nervous breathing. You kind of get now why your husband told you to just watch for a little bit longer. Mingyu is so readable, with the way his eyes can’t find where to land, the way his hands know where they want to go but he clearly holds back from doing too much too soon out of fear that this entire agreement will shatter before his very eyes.
You hum out happily, leaning your head back against Seungcheol and pressing your hips forward, against Mingyu. Feeling entirely loved, wanted, needed.
“I missed this feeling,” You sigh out with a pleasured smile, throwing an arm out and over Mingyu’s shoulder, pulling him even closer. “I bet you’ll miss it too. I bet you’ll keep coming back for it.”
Seungcheol hums as well, nodding his head in agreement before blinking over at Mingyu and lifting a brow. He wonders how long they’re going to stand here staring at each other so, rolling his eyes dismissively, he presses on.
“I want to watch you eat her out.” He says, feeling that it’s not too out of the ordinary to make suggestions since Mingyu appears to be totally blinded by your tits right now anyway.
Mingyu nods with empty eyes, shortly before you see him physically break out of his presumed trance and take a step back, very nearly tripping over his own feet.
“Wait, really?” He asks, somehow still unsure that this is a thing that’s actually happening as he regains balance.
“Oh, absolutely.” Seungcheol encourages him, using the emptied up space in front of you to maneuver you over to the bed.
Mingyu watches as your husband sits you down on the bed, grabs two pillows and places them behind you, then shimmies your pants off of you in a very loving way. He doesn’t know whether to be jealous of Seungcheol for being able to love someone enough to pleasure them using others or to be jealous of you for being loved so blatantly.
“Mingyu,” Seungcheol calls out, tapping your legs to spread them out and taking a step back to make room. “Go on.”
Mingyu’s legs take him there before his brain can think twice. One second he’s looking at you from the angle of the center of the room, the next he’s falling to his knees, staring straight between your legs at the point of his lust for the last however long. Slender fingers gripping your thighs much the same way Seungcheol did the first night he saw the two of you together like this.
It continues to hit him like a freight train. He’s here. He’s doing this. Not even a year ago he was sleeping in a different place, with a fiancée, making calls to find venues for a fucking wedding, and now he’s here. Between the legs of another man’s wife at his request.
Why is he so pleased with the drastic change of events? Why is his mouth watering looking at the small damp spot seeping through your panties? Why does he feel like he isn’t even himself at this moment?
None of it matters, not when you reach out and run your fingers through his hair to urge him forward. He leans into the touch, closing his eyes and breathing out through his nose because it’s been a long time since he felt the loving touch of another person in his hair like this.
It’s been a long time since he’s felt the warmth of a woman in front of him, and even longer since he last felt this drunk on the atmosphere around him. Your soft fingers scratch against his scalp, and that alone makes his entire body shiver as he nuzzles against your thigh lovingly, leaving his kiss against your skin for the first time.
Seungcheol watches, not entirely used to a man acting like this with his wife. Usually, they’re already trying to get their cock inside of her, but Mingyu seems to be basking in the touch and feel of it all through each step and in a way, he understands. He was with someone for six years and planned to spend his life with her, he can imagine this is something Mingyu missed doing, despite the bitch not even wanting to gag on him.
He feels fond watching the two of you, situating himself on the bed and letting you lean up against him. There, he starts to work your bra off of you, matching Mingyu’s slowly paced arousal.
You, on the other hand, feel like your body is catching fire. That little gentle kiss against your thigh was followed by several more, peppered up to your panty line, down to your knees, and then right back up before he even thinks about leaving a kiss against the seat of your panties.
Which, he does eventually get to doing. Seungcheol watches your body jolt at the touch. He can tell you’ve been anticipating it since Mingyu got on his knees but knows you’re both pacing yourselves for the sake of him being able to enjoy himself.
Seungcheol’s hands do remain on your tits through it, massaging and pinching against your nipples until they’re erect and sending jolts of sensations straight to your core. Thankfully, Mingyu appears to be preparing himself to see your arousal up close and personal by this point, keeping his lips right up against it as his fingers toy with the hem of your panties.
He looks up at you, still searching for confirmation on instinct and can’t help but feel that the green light was given the second he moved into the house next door with the way you both look at him.
You’re not the only one being loved on right now. He feels entirely taken care of simply for being able to go down on you, and he wants nothing more in this world than to make you feel good.
So, he does his best. Reaching his arms forward and gripping the sides of your panties before gently pulling them down. He watches as your, by now very wet, panties unstick from your folds as he reveals it to himself and honestly, he doesn’t even care at this point at how he blatantly moans over it.
And just as you thought he was going to take his time like before, it’s like your entire world is flipped upside down. You take in a sharp and surprised inhale at the way he’s got his tongue on you the second your panties hit the floor.
Seungcheol laughs at your surprise, internally praising Mingyu for that sudden jolt of confidence he must have gotten to do that after unintentionally teasing you for far too long. He can feel your nipples react to what he’s doing, and through the sound of Mingyu’s tongue, his groans through the taste of you, even he feels like he’s going insane just sitting with you against him like this.
“Fuck,” You moan out, feeling the way his tongue leaves no part of your pussy unexplored. “Fuck.” You continue, totally speechless and unable to praise him the way you’d very much like to right now.
When you run your fingers through his hair again, feeling the way he moves his head beneath them he stiffens his tongue as he slides it up your entire pussy, then lands on your clit and begins to flick his tongue at such a pace that your legs nearly close in on him.
Seungcheol is there though, quickly reaching down to hold your legs open for him.
“Sensitive?” He gleefully whispers to you, watching the way you grip Mingyu’s hair in your fingers through the obvious struggle. He knows you won’t answer, which is fine, because he loves when you get like this. Though it’s never through a man simply giving you some good head.
Mingyu continues his assault with his tongue, so drunk on the taste of you that all he can do is keep going. Keep tasting, flicking your clit until it’s swollen before sliding back down again and burying his tongue inside of you as deep as it’ll go. Like he can’t get enough, especially with the way your hips wiggle to get away, with the way your fingers try to weakly tug his head away from you.
He hopes this is exactly what Seungcheol wanted to see, because he couldn’t be happier to fulfill the request. Moaning into you only to breathe nothing but you back in. His cock still neglected from a full day of arousal, tasting you alone is soaking his pants. Never has he felt so desperate for something. Never.
Even when he can feel the bed shift and your legs close around his head again, he continues.
“Hold her legs open for me,” Seungcheol instructs as he pulls himself off of the bed, now seemingly so aroused that he feels the need to involve himself. He shimmies off his clothing and props himself back up on the bed, directly next to you and easily holding his length to bump against your slacked and moaning mouth.
You readily accept your husband’s length into your mouth. Instantly taking him as deeply as you can out of sheer arousal. Wanting to do the dirtiest things your brain can come up with solely because of how good everything feels right now. Seungcheol loves it, especially with how greedy you seem as you furrow your brows and will yourself to take more into your mouth.
“Mingyu,” Seungcheol calls out, reaching over to tap his hand that’s putting his obvious strength to use against your thighs to get his attention. “Look.”
Mingyu does, after sliding his tongue back up and flicking your clit several more times to get those satisfying shakes of your body in reaction. His eyes trail up as he finally takes a breath of fresh air, only now realizing that you’re both entirely naked.
“If you keep coming back,” Seungcheol starts, moving his hand to caress your cheek before holding the back of your head in place. “this” he punctuated with a hard thrust into your mouth, gagging you. “is what you have to look forward to.”
Mingyu watches as Seungcheol holds your head there, continuously gagging, and then he glances down to your pussy and goddamn. You’re clenching around nothing each time you gag, and the moans you’re letting out along with your gags sends him over edge. His tongue is immediately back on you, satiating that clench with his tongue as best he can.
The sound of Seungcheol’s ever expected fond reactions goes unnoticed by Mingyu as he puts his entire fucking soul into eating you out.
Thankfully, you’re able to breathe shortly after, kind of. Save for the fact that when Mingyu’s isn’t knocking the breath out of you, Seungcheol is stealing it by blocking your airways with his length and moaning all the same.
The entire room sounds so erotic, and everything still feels like it’s on fire. Your sensitivity subsides as your focus falls to pleasing your husband, leading your hips to chase Mingyu’s hungry tongue anywhere it goes.
It stays like this for a few minutes, all three of you seemingly lost in each other before you feel your husband lean over, allowing you to take care of his length without his help and sliding them straight to where Mingyu’s tongue is.
There, he easily slides in two fingers, and still, Mingyu doesn’t stop. It doesn’t phase him one bit. His tongue continues, working around Seungcheol’s fingers and sometimes even licking around them to taste the arousal that seeps from deep inside of you. By now though, he’s humping up, wanting more, more, more. Your hips chase his tongue and your husband’s fingers the same way his hips chase nothing.
Seungcheol only likes him more by this point. Even the times they have been with curious men, typically they’re not licking your pussy and his fingers. Mingyu is so peculiar about this, and arguably his lack of experience is what’s making this feel so fucking magical. His attention doesn’t appear to be divided between the both of you, nor does it even appear to be solely on you like he thinks it is.
He’s treating you both as if you’re one person, one soul, and appears to accept anything either of you offer as long as you feel good and Seungcheol is satisfied with how things are going.
Never has their bedroom been this silent of words either, especially when someone else is involved. There’s always crude words, but at this point all three of you seem to understand that you’re experiencing rather than trying to put on a show. You’re not competing, you’re not rushing for the finish line, you’re just, fucking, existing within pleasure.
“He’s a natural.” Seungcheol compliments, sliding his fingers up and out of you, feeling Mingyu’s tongue graze against the entire length of one of them and moaning loudly at the warmth and taste. “Wonder what else he can do?”
You smile when you pull off of Seungcheol’s, now leaking, cock and look down at Mingyu. He’s already looking up at you, lips glistening much like his eyes are as he plants more kisses up your body. Solely because Seungcheol practically hides your entire pussy from him as a hint to move his hungry assault elsewhere.
He does, happily. He’s satisfied even as he kisses up your belly and feels like he doesn’t need to ask to plant those same glistening lips against one of your nipples and fondle it with his tongue just as beautifully as he did with your clit.
He leaves space for Seungcheol’s hand when he moves up, trying to be careful to avoid his hard on brushing against anywhere where it’s not wanted, which doesn’t seem to be much of an issue because Seungcheol pulls his hand back shortly anyway, pulling off of the bed and studying the two of you.
You hug Mingyu’s head while he worships the chest he’s stared at from his window day after day. Seungcheol can clearly see how shy Mingyu is, but he still seems to be doing everything in a way that makes you both love it. At this point, it wouldn’t even matter what he does, he knows you’d go insane over it, and that’s enough for him to allow it.
He can’t help himself when he leans over you to kiss you, seemingly so in love with you, careful not to accidentally bump Mingyu’s head from your tit and probably cause some sort of huff or pout out of him.
“Lay him back.” Seungcheol says to you through his kiss, pinching your chin to keep your lips on his for a few moments longer before letting you go.
The way your eyes shine, and the way Mingyu’s tongue seems to never tire, you’re almost sad to pull him off of you. But you do, nonetheless, guiding him to stand to his feet and finally running your hands up his torso to urge his shirt off of him.
You stare at his abdomen, touching and feeling each dip of it. His arms are just as big and toned, and god damn is his cock huge. You could tell from the window, and you can tell here, even while it’s clothed.
“Off.” You say, tugging him forward by his jeans and sitting yourself up.
He laughs at the movement, looking between the two of you and honestly, damn. You’re both so fucking beautiful right now. He’d be delighted to take these pants off, and he does.
Shortly after, you instruct him to lay back on the bed and he’s only getting more and more comfortable with the situation. Doing exactly as instructed, not even embarrassed by his angry and heavy cock twitching in near pain to be touched.
“God, look at him.” You comment, now moving yourself on the bed to lean on one elbow and trail your fingers up his abs.
His entire body twitches at the touch, and he winces just a little bit with a sexually frustrated huff.
“Should I fuck him?” You ask, looking up at Seungcheol, who was actively already fisting his length shamelessly at all of the ideas he has in his head that you could to do Mingyu, or of what Mingyu could do to you.
“Do you want that?” Seungcheol asks, looking over to Mingyu and watching the way he straight up nods shamelessly and practically grabs you by the arm to pull you on top of him.
“So eager,” You laugh, throwing your leg over him and instantly seating yourself directly on his cock. Feeling how huge it is, how hard it is.
Mingyu moans at that alone, hands shooting to your waist and squeezing so hard that you know it’ll leave a painful sensation later.
“Go on then, fuck him.” Seungcheol says, amused with how badly this man wants it.
And you do, without much more of a warning. You lift yourself and expertly slide straight down on his pathetic cock. You watch Mingyu as you do it, struggling to breathe through the feeling of your tight walls clenching around his length and attempting to adjust to his size.
Mingyu runs his own fingers through his hair now, trying to keep himself grounded by the feeling he’s missed out on for so fucking long. He lets out a long and drawn out moan, cursing at the feeling and nearly tearing up at how fucking tight you are.
“Shit-” Mingyu breathes out, holding your waist still as if to keep you from moving, then he’s wrapping you in a hug and pulling you straight down against his chest.
Seungcheol skews his head, taking a step closer to see how well his friend fits inside of you and damn. Your pussy is clenching every passing second trying to adjust, and Mingyu's entire body is reacting to it. Naturally, Seungcheol has no choice but to grip his cock harder at the scene, biting back his own desperate moan so that he can still appear to be collected about this.
As you lay in Mingyu’s arms though, with the harsh hold of his arms keeping you in place, you can’t help but groan at the searing stretch inside of you. And he, on the other hand, is being driven crazy by the smell of your hair. Honestly, the scent alone is driving him wild enough that it’s a struggle to keep his own hips from writhing with the need to stretch your pussy out more.
“Keep him still while you make room for me.” Seungcheol finally chokes out. “Don’t let him come yet.”
You breathlessly nod, trying to press yourself up from Mingyu’s heaving chest just to grip onto his shoulders and bounce against his desperate attempts to stop you. He gives in after the second bounce though, going from trying to hold you down on him to loosening up and almost helping you bounce.
“That’s it, that’s exactly what she wants–” Seungcheol compliments, running his fingers up your back and making you shiver. “Right, babe?”
You try to answer, but you moan out instead with the way Mingyu’s hands keep you bouncing at such a pace that your g-spot is being repeatedly fucked against. And when he moves his hands to your ass, he loses himself to the pleasure as his eyes darken even more, fucking up now, deeper into you when you slide down on him.
“So deep,” You nearly sob out, hands reaching out for Seungcheol somewhere behind you, and he’s quick to be there for you.
“Feels good?” He asks, leaning onto the bed to kiss against your face. “You moan so good for him, I know it does.”
Mingyu moans before you can, sinking his head further into the pillows and letting himself get lost in the feeling of you bouncing on him. Seungcheol was right about this before, you do get wet. Fucking soaked.
“Ready for more?” Seungcheol asks now, seemingly ready to give you more than either of you know you can handle.
Still, you nod, knowing exactly what he’s wanting to do. You adjust the way you bounce, now leaning back onto Mingyu’s chest so that Mingyu’s cock slamming into you is on full display for Seungcheol.
“Slow down for a second, Gyu,” Seungcheol says, liking the nickname well enough to use it himself. “Let me show you what sharing feels like.”
And holy fuck, Mingyu is not prepared for it. He’s shocked that you’re wanting it, with the way you pant out breathless, pained moans against his collar bone as Seungcheol makes attempts to stretch you out more than you already are.
Mingyu holds onto those little pants, feeling your hands grip against his body as your husband nudges the head of his cock inside, causing both of you to cry out with a desperate sound.
Inch by inch, Seungcheol works himself in, holding his breath and soothing your back throughout the process, up until he’s managed to fit about as much as he can into you and thrusting forward just once to test the waters.
“Goddamn, such a tight fit.” He half-moans through a laugh, pulling out and thrusting in again, harder.
The reaction is more than Seungcheol could ever have wanted. Both of you, clinging to each other through the overwhelming sensation. Mingyu, probably overly sensitive from the feeling of your pussy gripping him and Seungcheol’s cock massaging the underside of it as he chases his own pleasure. Then there’s you, constantly clenching to adjust, letting out little pleased cries that only get prettier and prettier, especially when they’re mixed in with Mingyus.
At this point, Seungcheol can barely tell which one of you is moaning, but it’s all the same to him and he begins to do the work for all three of you. Loving the way he’s managed to make his wife and another man fall apart beneath him.
“God, you both love it.” He says, knowing for a fact that you’re both too gone by now to hear him. Which is good, because he can’t hold his own moans in anymore.
So, he doesn’t. He grips your hips to hold you in place and continues to thrust, feeling your pussy relax with each thrust until even Mingyu is able to fuck up slightly. And for you, feeling both cocks sliding into you opposite of each other, you really can’t comprehend a single thing outside of pleasure right now.
You can hardly breathe, so talking isn’t entirely on your agenda, still though. You try.
“Fuck, fuck–” You breathe out, gripping even tighter onto Mingyu now.
“So fucking wet,” Seungcheol soothes, offering a harsher thrust now that he’s beginning to lose himself to the feeling too.
“So fucking, big–” You say, mostly into Mingyu’s ear despite your husband having a good size as well. “Fuck me open, pretty boy, show my husband how you like to come.”
Seungcheol smirks at your hushed and out-of-breath words, you always get dirty when you’re super turned on. Plus, the way Mingyu follows instructions is insanely sexy too.
In fact, he follows your instructions a little too well. Somehow, Mingyu overpowers both your weight on him and Seungcheol’s harsh thrusts. To the point that he actually has to stop moving his own hips because if he doesn’t, Mingyu will get all three of you off within seconds if he keeps going at this pace.
“Yeah, fuck, yeah,” Seungcheol moans in probably the most erotic voice you’ve ever heard come from him before. Because, never in your life alongside him have you heard him have to cut off his comments with a moan. “he likes it fucking rough.”
And he’s not lying. Part of you wonders if Mingyu has ever been able to fuck this way, because even as you and your husband manage to find room to converse through this, Mingyu is still gone and lost in his own world. Still holding onto you, and still fucking into you so hard that you’re very nearly releasing little yelps each time he bottoms out.
Seungcheol, on the other hand, knows exactly how your body reacts when you’re getting close. Usually knowing before you do, and he really does his best to keep his composure through this. He does his damndest to hold off, amazed that Mingyu lasted past the first instance of you sinking down on him.
Shaking hands reach between you and Mingyu, and you’re quick to sit up and lean back against Seungcheol instead to let him have access to your clit. Despite his cock slipping out of you slightly, he can still manage to fuck a few inches in at this angle, and honestly it’s a welcome relief because if he continued any further, he worries your clit would be left long neglected by his brain malfunctioning in a sudden orgasm.
You smile in a daze as you stare down at Mingyu, his eyes droopy and hooded when he opens them, but for the most part remaining closed and focused on fucking you as good as he can. And paired with the sensation of Seungcheol rubbing your clit, you’re rendered useless in announcing that you’re close.
Thankfully, your lovely, amazing, and doting husband knows you as well as you know yourself.
“Keep going,” He says, out of breath and reaching his other hand up to hold one of your tits in his hand, lips going to your neck. “She’s close.”
Mingyu lets out a choked moan at the same time you let one out, and instantly Seungcheol pulls out with a pleased and frustrated moan.
“Let him feel it, babe,” Seungcheol says, now focusing solely on rubbing your clit with one hand and fucking his fist with the other. ”Squeeze him.”
God, you do, coming undone wrapped around his Mingyu’s relentless cock, pulsing and shaking as Seungcheol makes no attempt to ease the orgasm out of you. His fingers only circle your clit harder, and Mingyu only fucks up harder.
“Fuck, Mingyu,” Seungcheol calls out, watching the man in awe. “How are you holding out right now?”
Mingyu blinks up, his eyes totally lost to arousal and he continues to fuck into you far past your orgasm ending, loving the slide of how much wetter you got through it. He feels like he’s fucking half a year’s worth of himself into you, which is fair. Because he definitely is.
“Look at him babe, tell him it’s okay.” Seungcheol continues, wanting Mingyu to get off so that he can stop holding off on his own. It’s entirely insane how much self-control this man has.
Not even Seungcheol himself could withstand this without losing a bit of self control, and yet, god. He really is the perfect third. The perfect neighbor.
This is an indication that Seungcheol is about to go full cuckold and work at himself as you take what you want from Mingyu, and you really do try.
Your legs shake around him as you continue to try and ride him, leaning down to hover over his lips in a faux first kiss to tell him to rest his hips, and he does, sighing out a little sound of relief as you take back the control.
He’s never been so fucking turned on in his life, and in all honestly, not even he knows how he hasn’t gotten off yet. He’s needed it all day. He’s needed it all his fucking life, it seems.
Seungcheol studies the way your tired legs work, the pace slowing down minute by minute before he steps in. His control now fully regained as his orgasm fades and he can continue to instruct and enjoy without a wall of pure sex invading his actions. He releases his cock now, stilling your hips and pulling you off of Mingyu.
The sound alone is somehow filthier than any porn he’s ever heard. Sloppy and wet, paired with Mingyu’s frustrated groan at the loss of warmth.
“Gyu, take the lead.” Seungcheol says, helping you to lay back and rubbing your thighs to soothe them.
Mingyu, of course, jumps into action immediately. Lifting from his spot and situating himself between your legs with ease. Now being able to see you under him, rather than hovering above him, he feels like he has all the power in the world to treat you right.
“Anything you want,” He says, already adjusting himself with your pussy and pressing in. “Anything, just tell me.”
You’re entirely endeared by his words and can’t help it when you pull him down in a huff and connect your lips to his for the first time. He melts into it, fucking his hips into you at a slower pace now, deeper, more lazily.
He’s smelling you and feeling you entirely, every sensation in the world he could ever want is being satiated right now, and he’s not ashamed to whine through it. Pumping himself into you until it hits him.
So hard does it hit him, each thrust milking him entirely of his cum and not trembling once through it. His cock has been sensitive all day, this new sensitivity is welcome to him as long as you continue to lick into his mouth and scratch against his back like this.
It’s a given that he was a goner the second he got on top, and when he finally empties the last, impossible amount of cum into you, his ears pop and begin to ring.
“You guys look so cute–” Seungcheol coos, helping Mingyu out of you on wobbly legs before he leans down to scoop some of the mess out of you. “Now, you lay back too,” he adds, still toying with the cum dripping from you.
He does, relieved and thankful for the rest after that exhausting experience. He’s out of breath when he flops himself down next to you, turning his head slightly to look at you and how content you seem to be. It makes him feel content too, even without your lips against his.
There, Seungcheol scoops some of that cum out of you and slathers his fingers with it, shuffling forward onto the bed to place himself between your legs now. Then, his fingers make their way over to Mingyu.
“Taste it.” He says, wondering if Mingyu will fight the idea of doing it.
Shockingly, he doesn’t. He opens his mouth with ease and sucks Seungcheol’s fingers into his mouth. You watch, watching the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the taste of himself mixed with you. You groan out, throat dry from the embarrassing amount of moaning before wiggling your hips.
“Patience, babe,” Seungcheol says, not even glancing at you and keeping his eyes trained on the way Mingyu eagerly licks his fingers clean before releasing his fingers and blinking over to you, and then up at him.
“You’re both going to fucking kill me.” Seungcheol lets out, rolling his eyes before training them on you. “Gonna stuff this mess back into you, yeah?”
You nod obediently.
You’re so content, readily accepting your husband in his rightful place and basking in the familiar feeling of his length pressing inside of you. It’s a feeling you know, and a feeling you love despite having already been fucked open by both of them already.
At this point, it’s not even just arousal in the air. But like, a weird secret second thing that somehow feels more content than content.
Seungcheol is in love with the way you look right now though, arguably so for Mingyu too. With his fucked out face looking just as drowsy as yours does despite the sun setting when all of this started. It’s not as late into the night as it seems to feel, which is fine because time seems like it works differently at this moment.
“Kiss her,” Seungcheol says, with a last gift to Mingyu for fucking you so well. “Thank her.”
He does, because of course he does. He dips in so fast, cradling your face in the same delicate way he touched your thighs from before. Kissing you just as gently, all while Seungcheol takes his time to slide into you with such a fulfilling pace that, honestly, if you will it hard enough, you could probably get off another three times if you wanted to.
But you don’t, putting that filthy side of you to rest as you allow your husband to take what he needs. His pace quickening much like Mingyu’s kisses do, up until you’re bouncing up with each thrust of his hips, and Mingyu is left chasing your lips. Up, down, up, down.
He chuckles into it, his teeth catching your bottom lip a few times before chasing your lips harder, all for Seungcheol to admire from above.
And admire it, he does. Loving the way you kiss Mingyu in a playful way compared to himself. There’s passion here, and it makes it all the more easy for him to work himself up to his own orgasm.
You’re not shocked at Seungcheol’s silence through his own high. Pressing his hips so tightly against yours, trying to bury himself as deeply as he can go to release all of this tension inside of his body. You still feel as full as you did when they both were inside of you, but this is something entirely different. It’s Seungcheol, and it still shows that he’s the one person on this Earth who knows you better than you know yourself.
He knows you love to feel his cock pulse inside of you, know your love when it dribbles down your thighs as you wobble to the bathroom, and now apparently, he knows you seem to love kissing Mingyu through the entire experience. Clenching against his orgasm as if you were already willing to start over from the beginning.
And just like that, he pulls out and lays on the other side of you, stealing your lips from Mingyu briefly and kissing you. Both out of appreciation and love.
~
The clean up was devastating. Poor fucking Mingyu, never realizing that aftercare is like, a huge important factor to fucking that hard. Which only solidifies it to both you and your husband that he’s clearly never been given the sexual freedom he so needed.
The two of you exchange side eyes at the way Mingyu expects to shower alone and take care of himself, despite walking straight into a wall on wobbly legs with sleepy, mostly closed eyes.
You help him to the shower, Seungcheol allowing you to join him and clean him up as he sits just outside and waits to ultimately clean himself up this time. After all, Mingyu was the one who fucked you senseless this time, the least he can do is learn how to clean up the mess and soothe your muscles.
Fortunately, he seems to be pleased to learn and eager to put his new knowledge to use. Standing there under the warm water with a blissed out little smile, hands gently caressing your core as if to soothe your sensitivity. Obviously, it doesn’t work that way but, you still give him credit for it.
By the time you’re done showering, Mingyu is practically dead weight. Literally fucked himself to sleep, it seems, as Seungcheol laughs out and nods to the guest room, which he already made up for him.
You help him to the room while Seungcheol helps himself to shower, where puddles of water remain on the floor.
Apparently you and Mingyu both share the trait of not using a towel to step on after a shower. Which is only more of a reason to like him.
Seungcheol likes taking care of people.
~
When Mingyu wakes up the next morning, sunlight blaring through closed blinds, his half asleep brain realizes very quickly what happened.
He’s embarrassed again, but the content feeling in his chest replaced the heavy one he had been holding about the entire situation. He had fun. He liked it. No, he loved it. So much so that for the first time in his life, he’s needed to pass the fuck out immediately after.
And it’s not long after he wakes up, lying there in thought, that he hears a soft knock at the door.
You’re poking your head in, blinking over at him and admiring his sleep hair. Which isn’t too different compared to his sex hair, and you smile.
“Good morning,” You say, stepping into the room and revealing Seungcheol close behind you. “Wanna go again?”
Mingyu dead pans at both of you. You’re both fucking insane.
banner by @archivedkookie via @archivededits ; t h a n k y o u 🥹
—p a i r i n g : yoongi x female reader
—g e n r e : 18+ e2l? crime au, thriller, mini series, angst, smut
—w : (stated in each chapter specially) crime, injuries, explicit language and graphic scenes + language of corruption and physical harm (in forms of k*lling) or innuendos, gore, injuries, g*ns, weap*ns, implied past friendship between the characters (?) angst, eventual smut
—this fic is totally for 18+ for the content it contains. i’m not responsible for the feed you perceive, so be careful. minors stay away.
taglist form
—teaser
red.. alert?
—chapter 1 : red alert
you're sure that you're trapped in the depths of danger. but to realise that danger was slowly engulfing you, maybe you were a bit too late.
—chapter 2 : whose fault?
when it's already done, he realises that good things have always resisted his shadows.
—chapter 3 : mirage
maybe it's not at all meant to be, but it's too late. the ban is lifted off, and the depths are forever empty.
5% written.
—drabbles
· interlude : 2009
it's okay. your heart tugs at its strings, but you're alright with the small, cherished moments you spend with him..
liveyun 2023. do not copy or translate, or post in any other platforms.
title: mami (teaser)
pairing: battle rappers!myg/knj x reader(f) , slight jhs x reader(f)😛
rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; battle rap au , roommates au
summary: turns out, two of the guys you’ve been hooking up with are battle rappers. and roommates. and the most competitive gd people you’ve ever met.
warnings for fic: [redacted] lmfaooooo🥴🥴🥴
warnings for teaser: cursing, yoongi’s fit, dirty talk, namjoon deserves his own gd warning throughout this whole fic so it’s included in the teaser warnings, too :^))
note: fuuuuuuck me lol. this is also gonna have some heavy 00s vibes so let’s fcking go🦋
est. drop date: jul-aug 2023
est. word count: 15-20k
taglist: join here (will be checking blogs!)
—18+ teaser below if you want to read :)) drops you right in the middle! minors dni.
pairing: Namjoon x reader (also featuring hyung line)
genres/au/rating: angst, smut, some fluff, mafia au, 18+
summary: Namjoon was a doom boy - he’d spent his entire life running from the ghosts of his past, keeping you and your son safe from the monsters that lurked on the city streets. He should have known that one day they’d catch up to him.
warnings: the mafia, attempted attack, drinking, mentions injury, mentions of past ab*se, brief mention of illicit subtances and money laundering, minor character deaths, choking, a great escape, Namjoon being an art hoe, smut warnings: sexting, dirty talk, brief daddy kink moment, explicit sexual content, soft dom!Namjoon, oral (f receiving), riding (it’s Namjoon duh), wrap it before you tap it pls
word count: 14.2k
a/n: happy Joon day (i hope i make the deadline) oh gosh, I don’t even know what this is like this was just supposed be some angsty yearning but it turned into this whole story bc Namjoon is the loml. i highkey think this is a huge mess and like cried outlining it bc i was feeling so many emotions, but it’s the first piece of writing in a month that i haven’t trashed completely (rip Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jungkook fics that shall never see the light of day). i really, really hope you like it! pls also excuse any grammar errors, i’ll go back and fix them soon!
Thank you to Ryen @kithtaehyung for the gorgeous banner!!
listen to the playlist!
By all accounts, it was a typical Friday. The sun blazed down on the pavement, rivulets of sweat making their way down Namjoon’s back on his commute home from the office. Shuddering, he loosens his tie, eager to let the shackles of his mundane office job fall away from his being. Combing a hand through the strands of his hair, he thinks that maybe he should get a haircut next week, but ultimately decides against it when he imagines your face in his mind, lips pursed in a pout and eyes shimmering with the glimmer of unshed tears.
I love your hair like this, he can hear you whisper breathlessly, his mind flitting back to the memory of your fingers tugging at the strands nearly a month ago, daring him to pull you into another kiss after what had already been an endless night tangled up in the sheets, making the most of the precious time Hyun had at his jobumo’s house. He’d never been able to deny you a single thing, not since the moment your hand had shyly slipped into his on the walk back from your college library, the comfortable silence between you two soon blossoming into a life he’d never dared to dream of for himself.
summary: Your dream comes true when world renowned music producer and CEO of D-Town Records, Agust D, discovers you in the underground rap scene and wants to sign you to his label. It all goes well for a few months and you can’t believe you’re actually living your dream. However, things start to shift when Agust D offers to do something for you and you can’t stop thinking about it for weeks to come. Your boyfriend doesn’t like it one bit.
chapter warnings: explicit sexual content, boss/employee, sexual tension, infidelity, guilt, a lot of guilt from both parties, confessions confessions confessions, fuckass daniel, vaginal sex, unprotected sex ( wrap ! it ! up ! ), dirty talk, accidental voyeurism, kissing a lot of kissing, dom/sub, tension again yeah i know, a lot of swearing, unethical ig, bratty!reader, light choking?, minors DNI
category: series
wordcount: 9.5k
a/n: hope this chapter was worth waiting for 🩵🤭
— m.list & concept video
previous | next
chapter 8: do you want it?
“His ex-wife.”
•••
The moment that specific word leaves Namjoon’s mouth, your world stops spinning. Your feet slow down in pace until you’ve come to a complete stop. Your eyes idly watch his back as he continues walking, unknowingly enlarging the distance between the two of you whilst still babbling on about what he just told you, “You know how private he is so I shouldn’t even be telling you this.”
Namjoon doesn’t notice until he’s a few meters down the corridor. Not sensing you in his wake and not hearing your heels clicking against the tiles anymore, he turns his head over his shoulder to glance at you with a frown as he comes to a halt as well. “You good?”
Once his eyes glance into yours, you snap out of your trance. “What? Oh,” you mumble, “yeah, I’m fine,” you add. You shake your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts, forcing your legs forward as you start walking again, catching up to Namjoon.
You try to find the right words, careful to and hopefully not come across as a prier. “I didn’t know he used to be married.”
Namjoon thinks about his answer for a few seconds, trying to be equally as careful with his words. “Well, yeah,” he begins. “He’s very private. If you don’t even know his first name, what makes you think you’d know anything about his romantic history?” he chuckles, going with a safe joke to deter the conversation as he tucks his phone into his pocket.
A frown settles on your brows again. You decide to speak up, “I do know his first name.”
This time, Namjoon stops dead in his tracks. He slowly turns to you as your words process in his mind, you can literally see the gears in his head turning as his brows pinch together. “What?” he asks, attention fully on your face, seemingly trying to figure out whether you’re lying to him or not.
You subconsciously take a step back, a bit surprised by his sudden proximity. If you can smell his woody cologne, he’s definitely standing too close. “What?” you repeat, confused at why he’s confused.
“You know his first name?” His eyes squint at you, distrust etched onto his features. It seems like Namjoon wears his heart on his sleeve, unlike Yoongi, who is usually so damn hard to read.
You slowly nod, still confused at his reaction. “Yeah?”
He idly blinks at you for a few moments, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. “Since when?” His legs start moving again, walking down the hall which forces you to copy him.
You still don’t know why he’s so surprised. You think about the time he told you back then, in your studio, when he first caught you watching the music video like the horny bitch you are. “Like… a week or three ago.”
“Did you Google it?” he speaks up again when the two of you finally reach the elevators. He glances at you when you don’t reply right away as he reaches out and presses the button next to the elevator door.
“…He told me himself.” you say in a questioning tone. Why was he acting like you were told the cure to an incurable disease?
The confusion and disbelief on his face turns to complete perplexity and denial. “He told you his name?” Namjoon repeats your words carefully, fully turning his body to you.
“Yeah– Why are you interrogating me?”
“Sorry, sorry. I’m just surprised,” he awkwardly chuckles as the elevator doors open. He motions for you to walk in first and you do. “Not many people know any personal details about him, not even his name. I found out two years after he signed me and he didn’t even tell me, I found out because he made me go fetch something with his credit card and I saw his name.”
Now it’s your turn to be surprised, clear in the way you say, “Oh?”
A smile tugs on the corners of his lips, his dimples poking holes in his cheeks as he leans against the opposite wall of you in the elevator. Your gaze shifts to the floor, avoiding eye contact with the giant in front of you.
The possibility he might see through you and realize there’s something more going on between you and Yoongi instantly rushes into your mind, palms already starting to get clammy.
“He must be really fond of you,” he says to you, the smile present even in his voice.
His words have barely registered in your brain before you snap your head up to look at him. “What? No.” You quickly shake your head in dismissal. “We were just having a deep conversation about how grateful I was that he saw my potential and for believing in me. He told me to call him Yoongi because I kept calling him boss. I guess he just wanted the conversation to be less awkward.”
He tilts his head to the side with a raised eyebrow, shaking his head slightly which causes his bangs to swing back and forth in his eyes, making him run his hand through his bleached locks. “You think none of his artists or employees have ever thanked him? No one else is here walking around calling him by his first name.”
Damn. You’re kinda dumb.
Just now realizing that?
Why hadn’t you thought of it like that?
You look away from Namjoon for a moment, eyes roaming the numbered buttons on the side as you think about what he just said for a moment. “I don’t know…”
“Right… Well,” he starts, “I think he likes you a lot. It’s not surprising, though. You’re a good person.”
Heartstab.
If only Namjoon knew what a messy bitch you really are.
You just weakly smile at him, not in the mood to go further into any unnecessary details.
•••
It’s time for you to head home for the day. It’s 8PM but there’s not much for you to do here. Once your Uber notifies you they’re outside, you start gathering your stuff, draping your jacket over your forearm and as you reach to shove your phone into your backpocket, your phone vibrates in your hand. You take a look at your phone screen.
[8:06PM]
from: Boss
Where are you
You stare at it with your eyes basically bulging out of their eye sockets. What is he thinking?
You take a moment before you reply, thumbs hovering over the keyboard of your phone as your legs move toward the door of your studio.
[8:08PM]
to: Boss
why
You aren’t going to jump at his every command anymore. The days of you acting delirious are over.
Soon enough, your phone buzzes again.
[8:09PM]
from: Boss
Because I asked?
Your bottom lip is trapped between your teeth as you read the message, a mixture of panic and nervousness settling in your chest. He sounds pretty pissed off. Before you even type out the next message, you make sure you head out the door of your studio and down the corridor, hoping to God you don’t bump into him.
You don’t.
You wait until you’ve fully exited the building and entered the Uber you ordered before replying to him.
[8:12PM]
to: Boss
so?
You lock your phone as your Uber drives out of the building’s parking lot, allowing you to take a breather. As long as you were in the vicinity of that man’s company building you weren’t going to provoke him like that. Not anymore.
After a few minutes of no response, you check your phone just to be met with the little ‘read: 8:12PM’ letters under your last message.
Good. He needs to leave you the fuck alone.
He’s literally your boss, at least be professional.
He lost those privileges the moment he put his fingers on your pussy and his lips on your mouth.
You internally scream at the intrusive thoughts, wanting nothing more than for your imaginary angel and demon to just shut the fuck up as you rub your eyes with your palms, not caring that you’re messing up your eye makeup.
•••
The weekend passed pretty quickly and so, you wake up the next Monday, to an empty home. Daniel must have left earlier for work. Not thinking much of it, you start getting ready for work in silence. You aren’t even in the mood for breakfast.
After you’ve put your clothes on, brushed your teeth, applied your daily makeup and fixed your hair, you head into the hall to slide your shoes on.
As soon as you get notified by your Uber, you sling your purse over your shoulder and head out your front door.
Once you enter the company building, it’s quiet. There aren’t people walking around, there isn’t any sound coming from anywhere. You aren’t very used to it.
You slowly walk up to the elevators, still looking around the lobby in confusion. You fight the urge to rub your eyes and decide to just head to your floor. When you walk down the corridor to head into your studio, you take note that there aren’t any people in any studios either.
Now you’re really confused, is it Sunday? You hastily reach for your phone, checking the day, the very clear ‘Monday’ glaring back at you.
On cue, you get a text.
[9:19AM]
from: Namjoon
Yo wtf did you do?
Your heart flatlines for a few seconds. What is he talking about? Does he somehow know? Did Yoongi tell him? He wouldn’t, right? Was there some kind of hidden camera in Yoongi’s home office that he didn’t tell you about?
[9:19AM]
to: Namjoon
? what are u talking about?
You anxiously wait for him to reply as you push the door to your studio open.
[9:21AM]
from: Namjoon
You might wanna come to the practice room
Oh, no. Why the practice room? That’s where the biggest screen in the building is. Oh, no. No. Is this his way of retaliating?
You’re going to walk in and there’s going to be footage of Yoongi rubbing your pussy playing on the big screen in front of everyone.
Be serious. He’s an asshole but he wouldn’t do that.
You never know! Never trust men.
Your legs carry you to the elevators like they’re made of jelly. You don’t know how you made it there but the big door to the practice room is closed. It already scares you, the door to the practice room is always open. Always.
You reach for the door handle with a shaky hand and push the door open. The room is dark. All the lights are turned off. At least there isn’t footage of you being an unfaithful whore playing on the big screen, right?
Your hand reaches for the light switch and once you flick the light on, you watch as every single one of your coworkers jump out and loudly cheer ‘SURPRISE!’ at you.
You take a step back and press a hand against your chest where your heart is, a pleasant surprised smile on your face. Why were they surprising you? It wasn’t your birthday yet.
The speakers start blaring your unreleased music.
You feel a hand on both wrists and you turn to look at Namjoon and Daniel as they pull you to the center of the room. Your eyes almost bulge out of your eye sockets when you see Daniel in front of you.
Namjoon puts a party hat on your head and you’re still confused, shocked that Daniel is standing right next to you in the company building you work at but you’re laughing and smiling with the rest as Daniel twirls you, which makes everyone cheer again.
A tap on your shoulder makes you turn your head and glance over it. You make eye contact with none other than your boss, Min Yoongi.
He gives you a soft smile, tilting his head to the side as his eyes scan your face. “Congratulations on finishing your debut album, Y/N. You worked hard.” His eyes soften as he speaks to you, gentler than he ever had. “We wanted to throw you a pre-release party with just us.”
You stare up at him with big eyes, your bottom lip quivering. His hand reaches up and the pad of his index finger smears frosting to the tip of your nose, his gummy smile making an appearance. You really did not expect to get emotional today but tears prick in your eyes as everyone is cheering and dancing to your music and Agust D, your boss, a musician you look up to, the man you’ve had inexplicable feelings for, Min Yoongi is standing in front of you congratulating you for all your hard work.
You have no idea how they even contacted Daniel but for the first time, you’re actually happy that he’s here. To see your colleagues, to see the building you work in, to see why you love what you do.
A smile finally stretches onto your lips as you turn your back to Yoongi and loudly thank everyone over the music, blowing everyone a flying kiss, Seokjin-style.
•••
Even though hours have already passed, the party is still in full swing. You’re chatting with other people, others you have never even talked to before. You’d been talking and dancing with Daniel and one of the backup dancers named Hoseok. He’s super friendly and you’re bummed that you barely crossed paths with him despite working in the same building.
Once Hoseok is pulled aside by someone you assume is his co-dancer, your eyes involuntarily search for Yoongi’s. You finally spot him but he’s not looking at you. No, he’s chatting with someone in the corner. Your brows pinch together and you squint your eyes, trying to identify who the other person is.
Looks like Sarang.
Why is she even here? Ugh.
Maybe it’s the alcohol in your system but your feet start taking you toward them.
Alcohol? You had like 2 sips. Just say you want to cause trouble.
Are you crazy? What are you even going to say?
Daniel quickly catches up to you, a hand on your lower back. Yoongi’s eyes are immediately on you once you walk up and he narrows his eyes at you, straightening his back and clearing his throat.
You head straight for Sarang. “Hi,” you say, mischievous eyes glued to her. She turns her attention to you and she looks confused for a second before she smiles at you when she realizes who you are.
You hold out your hand for her to shake. “I’m Y/N,” you tell her and watch as she puts her own hand into yours. The glare of the massive diamond on her finger doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
“Yes, I know! Congratulations on finishing your debut album. I love your music!” she beams, nudging Yoongi. “I hope this geezer doesn’t make you work too hard.” The joke comes out like it’s their love language and you watch as Yoongi gives her a look which she pouts at. You do your best not to roll your eyes at the sappy scene in front of you.
“He’s a good boss,” you start, “He can be a bit of an asshole, though.” You shrug your shoulders, eyes shifting to Yoongi. You feel Daniel’s hand tense on your back. Should you really be talking about your boss like that?
Yoongi glances at you with a blank expression but you don’t pay much attention as you return your attention to her again. “So, what brings you here? Is the geezer giving you a hard time?” you say before you can even stop yourself, referring to how they’ve been talking for quite some time. There’s a clench in Yoongi’s jaw but he doesn’t comment on anything.
She nervously chuckles, her brows slightly pinching together at your words. “I’ve been trying to convince him to sign an aspiring artist. They’re really good but he’s stubborn,” she says, nudging him with her hip.
Ah. She’s the one that was recommending that up-and-coming artist to him, the one he was checking out when you went to go apologize to him that day. That’s why she’s been popping up around here.
“Oh, I wouldn’t take that personally. He said it took him weeks of coming to my battle rap shows before he finally decided I had potential,” you tell her with a chuckle, Yoongi’s chest puffing as he scoffs in your peripheral vision. “He thinks he’s some kind of Talent Whisperer.”
“Ah, really? I think he’s just very cautious on who he signs. Some people have taken advantage of his signature before,” she jokes in his defense, nudging him with her hip and you watch as he glances at her with a sheepish look on his face. You fight the urge to gouge out your eyes at the sappiness in front of you.
Their obnoxious proximity took over your thoughts which is why it takes you a second to process her words. You squint your eyes at her joke. Was she talking about their marriage contract or the artists under his label?
You force a smile onto your lips that doesn’t reach your eyes and say, “You’ll have to fill me in on that later on.” You pull your phone out of your pocket to check the time. 2:23PM.
Daniel takes out his phone and seems to be reading a message he just received before turning to you, reminding you that he’s been standing next to you all this time. “I gotta go,” he says in your ear, showing you his phone screen to allow you to read his work’s groupchat talking about how busy it’s getting.
He turns to Yoongi, “Agust D, I’m a big fan, man. Thanks for finding a way to get me to be a part of this celebration.” He holds his hand out to Yoongi and Yoongi takes it, shaking it with a polite yet forced smile. Daniel nods his head at Sarang, turns to you to press a peck to your lips before turning around and exiting the room.
It looks like Sarang wants to say something but you hear a loud voice cutting her off. “Y/N,” Yoongi says sternly. You glance up at him with an innocent look in your eyes for a few seconds before he abruptly turns and walks away, confident that you’ll follow him. You watch as he exits the practice room and you’re quickly following him, abandoning the conversation with his ex-wife.
You watch as he’s walking down the corridor and disappears once he turns a corner. You pick up your pace and once you’ve reached the corner, a hand on your bicep pulls you into a small room.
You quietly gasp as you’re pulled in. You hear the door being slammed shut and before you know it, you’re being pushed back until your bum is pressed up against a desk with a pair of hips wedged in between your legs. It’s dark but the light peeking through the blinds is enough to make out a bit. You look up at him, your hand instantly pressed up against his firm chest as he stares down at you, a frown on his brows.
“What is it now? I give you a party and you’re still out here running your damn mouth?” Yoongi grumbles, pushing you further back onto the desk.
A small apologetic pout creeps onto your lips. “It seems like you only pay attention to me when I’m being like this.”
He rolls his eyes, shaking his head at your ridiculousness. “You’ve been acting a fucking fool and my patience is running thin, Y/N.”
Your shoulders defeatedly slouch, glancing up at him through your lashes. “I know. I’m sorry,” you say as you innocently blink up at him, “sir.”
He thinks about his answer for a second, his head slightly tilting to the side as he stares you down. “All that attitude when I asked you where you were. I wanted to fucking destroy you.”
You suck your lips in, kissing your teeth with a loud smack. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I did it.”
“You’re such a damn brat,” he groans, throwing his head back in exasperation, your eyes watching the way his beautiful black locks bounce.
You pucker your lips, a rebuttal instantly taking over your mind and you think about whether you want to say it.
Unfortunately, the words come out anyway. “I may be a brat but at least I’m not a loser. I mean who lets their ex-wife walk around with the ring they gave her? Seems to me like she digs a bit of gold.”
His stern frown turns into an agitated scowl, his eyes searching your face for something. You quickly realize he’s trying to figure out who told you he’d been married in the past. You move your fingers up to your lips and motion that your lips are sealed.
He narrows his eyes at you, being able to see right through you. “Namjoon,” he grumbles in realization.
You look around the room, trying to appear unbothered. “You said it, I didn’t tell you.” You shrug your shoulders at the fact he figured it out so quickly.
He inhales deeply through his nose and exhales through his mouth, trying to control his frustration. “It’s not the ring I gave her. She got remarried.”
Your head slowly turns to him, your mouth in an ‘o’ shape. Guilt starts seeping into your stomach. Well, you hadn’t really considered that possibility yet. “Uh,” you say before you clear your throat. “When did you get divorced?”
His eyes shift to the side as he thinks about his answer for a few seconds. “About 3 years ago.”
You raise your brows in surprise, your hand still firmly pressed up against his chest. “Her spouse is okay with her asking her ex-husband for favors?”
“Your boyfriend is okay with you having another man in between your thighs?” He shoots right back, his eyes glancing down at your groins pressed together before peeking back up at you. This shuts you up instantly, making you glare at him as a scowl forms on your face.
He quietly sighs before adding, “She’s in an open marriage. Her spouse couldn’t give a fuck about what she does.”
The frown returns to your face at the new information, ignoring the stinging in your chest and the burning in your throat. “Are you still in love with her?”
He blankly stares at you for a few moments before answering, “If I was still in love with her, she’d still be my wife,” he says with an air of confidence and you can’t help but want to believe him.
“Besides, I have no interest in her. I have my eyes set on someone else.”
A lump forms in your throat.
Is he referring to you? Is he referring to someone else? You can’t tell. You don’t want to assume and look like an even bigger fool. You look to the side for a few moments, deciding to just ignore his vague confession before your mind travels back to the fact that Sarang is in an open marriage.
You have to stop your eye from twitching at the thought of her. “I bet she just wants you to fuck her again.” Your words are coated with bitterness and you instantly regret it, you literally have a boyfriend. You have no damn right to be jealous and even if Sarang wasn’t in the picture, Yoongi isn’t yours. And he probably won’t ever be.
His onyx eyes stare you down for a moment before responding, “Who said I haven’t already?”
The lump in your throat shoots up into your mouth, unleashing an imaginary bag of sand onto your tongue, drying out your mouth. You blankly blink at him as your mind starts racing. The mischievous look in his eyes makes you unsure whether he’s actually telling the truth or just trying to rile you up.
Of course he has already fucked her. She’s gorgeous, so tall and so toned. Who wouldn’t fuck her?
You look away from him with a huff.
“Ah, you don’t like that, do you?” he purrs, bringing his hands to rest them against the desk on each side of your hips as he leans forward, his hard chest pressed into yours. “You want all of my attention, huh?” His gaze trails down to your pouty lips. “Like I said. Greedy.”
You scoff as you turn your face to him again, looking up at him with a defiant glint in your pretty eyes. “Well, how can I not be? You said whatever I want, I get,” you mumble, gaze trailing to his plump lips too before back to his eyes, “and I want you.”
He loudly groans at your words and drops his forehead against your shoulder. “What are you doing to me?” he mumbles, turning his head slightly so his breath hits the crook of your neck.
You freeze at the proximity of his face once again, holding your breath in anticipation. “What do you mean?”
“You just,” he pauses, “make me act in ways that I never have before.” He doesn’t move his head, his lips dangerously close to the skin of your neck. “Really? Offering to be the actor in your fucking music video?” he grumbles as he buries his face deeper into the crook of your neck, his lips finally brushing against your skin softly which makes you shiver. “What the fuck was I thinking?”
You try to keep your bottom lip from quivering as he continues, “I regretted those words the moment they left my fucking mouth.” His profanities are awakening something demonic inside of you.
Not demonic, just me.
Shut up.
His proximity causes you to process his words a bit slower, so it takes you a few moments to respond. “You regretted being in the music video with me?” you quietly ask him as you look down at his groin nestled in between your thighs.
“Yeah. In a way,” he mumbles, still not looking at you.
You roughly bite down on your bottom lip, not sure if you’re ready to even hear this confession. “I thought you’d do anything for your artists.”
“I would. But don’t you think I have a list of contacts ready to do whatever I ask of them at my disposal?” He lifts his head off your neck, finally finding your eyes. “Don’t you think I could’ve called someone who would’ve been ready to shoot with you 10 minutes after the original actor bailed?”
Your brows furrow in annoyance with yourself. You hadn’t thought of that.
“I offered to be in your music video because,” he starts, “…Because I wanted to be. And the moment I realized that,” he pauses as he shakes his head. “Felt like I was losing my damn mind.”
“Yoongi,” you say sweetly as you reach up to cup his face with both hands but he isn’t finished talking.
“Let me speak,” he says, sternly. He reaches out to play with the shell of your ear. “Always dismissing you because I wanted you in ways that was just inappropriate. I’m your boss, I can’t be doing that.” The way he’s talking makes you think you gave him some kind of identity crisis.
“But you kept showing up right outside my studio with that pretty face, looking at me with those eyes, fuck. Like you wanted to break me, like you wanted to see how far you could push me until I got to my limit,” he says, his eyes flickering with something you can’t put your finger on. “And I’m at my limit.”
You notice how serious he is and this is something that’s been on his mind a lot, so you get the urge to make light of the situation by joking. “I always thought you hated me,” you quietly chuckle, your hands gently rubbing his chest through his black dress shirt.
But nothing can prepare you for the words that come out of his mouth next.
“You’d be right.”
What?
Oop. Smack cam.
You scrunch your brows together, your head leaning forward as if you didn’t hear him correctly and your hand stops rubbing him, freezing right over his heart. “What?”
“I hated you,” he confesses, his blank stare is solid and you can’t make out whether he’s joking or not.
It’s quiet for a moment. Your eyes blink at him in confusion, lips twitching before you speak up. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” He nods his head like he just casually told you it’s going to rain later today.
You sit there for a moment, processing his words. Simply put, you’re flabbergasted.
He must’ve noticed the switch in your demeanor so he adds, “Let me rephrase.” He snaps you out of your thoughts, “I hated you as Agust D.”
You scoff, “That doesn’t clarify shit, dickhead.”
His eyes squint at the name, his fingers grazing the shell of your ear down to your earlobe. “As your boss, I hated you. You were so impulsive, loud-mouthed, opinionated, shameless, bratty, unpredictable.”
The frown on your eyebrows doesn’t let up and you don’t have any rebuttals because he’s right. You just didn’t know he thought of you like that.
“But as me, as Yoongi,” he starts, “I fucking loved all of it.”
You tilt your head to the side, utter confusion still on your face as you try to make sense of what he’s telling you. Agust D? Yoongi? Isn’t he the same damn person?
Dumbass. He’s telling you as your boss, you’re everything he hates in an employee.
But you’re everything he loves in a woman.
He chuckles at how animated you are. “I was so intrigued by you. I’d never met someone like you before and it was a breath of fresh air. Lured me straight into your little trap, didn’t you?” A smirk climbs onto his lips as his eyes catch the quiver in your bottom lip.
You’re speechless at this confession, has he really felt like this about you all this time?
His fingers come down from your earlobe to rub your bottom lip, wiping off some of your gloss. “Had to fight the urge to smile whenever you did something out of line because it was just so expectedly unexpected.”
You’ve stayed pretty much quiet throughout this whole confession, except for the few times you asked to clarify because you’re just trying to process what he’s saying. It looks like he’s finally gathered his thoughts so he opens his mouth again after several moments of unbearable silence, the distant booming of your unreleased music in the background.
“Do you want it?”
Your eyes go big as you look at him, his lips still parted from the words that just left his mouth. He doesn’t need to be specific. You know what he’s asking of you. You think about answering his question with full honesty but you don’t let yourself forget about your relationship.
“But Danie–”
“I don’t give a fuck about Daniel,” he snaps, “I don’t care about morals, about being caught, about Sarang. I don’t fucking care. Just tell me. Do you want it?”
And in this moment, the world has stopped spinning. You’re frozen in time, at least that’s what you think until Yoongi tilts his head to the side. His intense eyes stare you down, but there isn’t anything on his face that indicates what he thinks about the situation.
Finally you find it, your voice that fled your throat and left you stranded, left you for dead the moment he told you he doesn’t fucking care about the outcome.
You try your best to stimulate your saliva glands, in hopes to gather the saliva in your mouth onto your tongue and swallow it down, an attempt at relieving your excruciatingly dry throat. “...Yeah.”
“Then come get it.”
Before you know it, it’s you that lunges at him. You’ve pressed your lips against his, hands instantly moving up to tug on his beautiful hair. His hands move up to your waist, his hips rutting against your core making you moan into his mouth.
He takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth and fuck, how you’ve missed the taste. His fingers on your waist dig into your skin through your clothes as he pulls you closer to him like he’s scared to let go, your hands cupping the back of his neck as he squeezes your waist.
Your hand reaches for his belt and it makes him chuckle into your mouth, “Are you sure?” he sincerely asks you as he pulls away, watching as your hands unbuckle his belt with the speed of 57 cheetahs.
“Don’t ask me stupid fucking questions,” you grumble at him as you unzip his pants, just enough for his clothed erection to peek through.
“Hey.” He grabs you by the jaw, making you halt in your movements and look up at him, your pretty lashes kissing your brows. “It’s not because I’ve let you run your bratty fucking mouth before, that I plan on letting you do whatever you please now. You’ve got no fucking discipline.”
You stare at him with innocent eyes, fear and excitement seeping into your chest and stomach. You can’t help it, you love provoking him. You love that he crossed the line with you. That you’re the one that pushed his boundaries.
“What are you waiting for, then?” you snap back at him, ready to take on whatever lesson of discipline he has for you.
He squints his eyes at you, his lips in a thin line and his eyebrows in an angry frown. He drops his hand from your jaw to your throat and gives you a look, asking for permission. You simply nod as you wrap your own hand around his wrist to place it higher up your throat, encouraging him to do whatever he pleases.
He grunts as he slams his hips into yours, his erection grinding into the seam of your jeans. “You piss me the fuck off,” he grunts, his words causing a moan to erupt from your throat again.
He pulls you forwards by your throat, pressing his soft lips against yours again in a needy kiss. With a tilt of his head, his other hand slides even further back on the desk which makes him lean more into you.
You hold his face close, your own tongue exploring his mouth. A quiet moan leaves his mouth, allowing you to swallow it down. You wrap your legs around his waist, trapping his groin against yours.
The making out goes on for a while and you can swear you’ve soaked through your panties and jeans. Your moans and grinding get louder, needier, hotter.
Yoongi is the first to pull away to try and catch his breath, forehead pressed against yours. Your eyes trail down to his swollen lips, reddened by the intensity of your steamy make out session.
Your impulsiveness strikes once again as your lips part to speak up, “I want to get fucked by you, Yoongi.”
He leans his head back to study your face, the hand on your throat moving down to grip your waist as a breathy ‘fuck’ leaves his mouth. He licks his lips, eyes absentmindedly looking to the side for a few seconds as he thinks about your words for a moment.
He glances back at you before his gaze drops to his erection peeking through his unzipped fly, a wet patch on his boxers on display for your thirsty eyes. “I don’t have any protection on me.”
You shake your head. “I really don’t fucking care.”
He tilts his chin up, staring you down with hooded eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Are you not clean?” you ask him, wishing you’d said it in a less snarky tone.
He pauses as he gives you a contemplating look, his hand leaving your waist to scratch behind his head with an air of awkwardness. “I am, but I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of you.”
You shake your head again. “I don’t think that,” you tell him, not missing the way his eyes flicker with relief.
He doesn’t say what he wants to say and just tucks his fingers into the hem of your jeans, making you lift your ass off the wooden surface to slide them down your legs, leaving it pooling around one ankle.
He glances up at you, his penetrating gaze already making you feel naked. His black pools of lust, that are his eyes, never leave yours but your attention is drawn to his lips when he slowly licks them, tongue swiping along his bottom lip from left to right. Then, he starts shaking his head in disapproval.
Your heart implodes in your chest at the movement.
Is he regretting it? Was he baiting you? Is someone in here that just witnessed all of this?
You choke out, “What?”
“Your bratty fucking face.” Is all he says when he pulls you off the desk and turns you around by your waist, shoving you onto the desk and bending you over it. You yelp out in surprise, cheek pressed into the wooden surface and your hands pressed against the desk on either side of your breasts.
“Can’t even look at it or I’ll get even more pissed,” he grumbles as he grinds his erection into your ass from the back, the only thing separating your sexes are your panties and his boxers, his pants still loosely around his hips. He grunts as he grinds into you, his dick rock hard against the curve of your asscheeks.
A lewd moan spills from your pretty lips, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you push back into his hips, searching for even more friction. You’re a mess, you can’t even form a coherent sentence as you reach back and try to tug your panties off.
The hem of your panties only make it past your ass when a sharp sting spreads through your right asscheek. “Ow!” you squeal, soon realizing he just spanked you as you glance over your shoulder at him for a few seconds before dropping your head onto the desk again.
“You’ve got no fucking discipline, for fuck’s sake.” His voice is so sultry, it has you thinking heinous thoughts. He rubs over the spot he just spanked before bringing his hand down again, full force, watching the skin of your ass jiggle from the impact and it makes you yelp again. “Fuck,” he breathes quietly, rubbing your asscheek again.
“You have no idea how–” he starts but abruptly cuts himself off. It makes you look over your shoulder at him again, confusion etched onto your face as you search his eyes for an explanation.
“Nevermind,” he mumbles.
“How long you’ve wanted to do that?” Your words are slow as they leave you, an attempt to continue his sentence and urge him to correct you if wrong.
He quietly sighs as he glances at you and mumbles, “Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you wanna say that?” you quietly ask, noticing the shift in his attitude.
He continues to rub your ass, big hands kneading the soft skin before he tugs your panties back up your ass. “Because I’m your boss and I feel guilty.”
“Didn’t you just say you didn’t care about morals or being my boss,” you chuckle, poking fun at the situation.
“Shut the fuck up.” His words instantly shut you up.
You gasp as there’s a sudden pressure against your pussy and you quickly realize it’s the head of his dick sliding up and down your clothed slit. “I was waiting for the moment you were okay with crossing that line.” His hand reaches up to your hair, grabbing a fist full of it but he doesn’t yank on it.
He tucks his finger along the side of your panties, pushing them to the side to expose your leaking sex to him. “Then I would know you were 100% on board,” he grunts as he runs a finger up your wet slit, bringing it to his lips as he sucks it off his finger before he pushes his dick into you, a gasp leaving your lips at the intrusion.
“Yoon–!”
“Shut the fuck up when I’m talking,” he says as he spanks you again, earning a pretty moan from you. “I know you said it that day in my office but I still didn’t want to take advantage of the situation. But I had to fight the urge to come to you every single day,” he grunts loudly once he’s nestled deep inside of you, “and whenever you came, I had no choice but to dismiss you.”
You squeeze your eyes shut at the burning stretch, sweat forming on your back as you bite into your bottom lip to keep yourself from screaming out loud. “Because I was minutes away from absolutely fucking defiling you.” His words are still filled with profanities, his dirty mouth could make you come undone right now.
“Then defile me,” you quietly whimper, pressing your cheek hard against the surface of the desk the moment he lets go of your hair. He hasn’t started moving inside of you, so there’s nothing else you can focus on than the confessions spilling from his mouth and the burn in your walls.
“Oh, I fucking will,” he mumbles as he reaches for your arms and bends them at the elbows so he can press them into your back, leaving you completely and utterly powerless. A hiss leaves your mouth as he slowly starts thrusting into you.
With your arms pinned back and your lower body caged between his hips and the desk, you have no choice but to take it. And there’s absolutely nothing you want more.
“Yoongi,” you whimper. The way the ridges and curve of his dick rub against your walls so damn well sets every single one of your nerve endings alight.
“You like that?” he grunts quietly. His grip on your arms is so tight and almost painful, but the moans that are spilling from his lips makes you not care at all. He picks up the pace of his thrusts, causing goosebumps to pop out of your skin. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.”
“I wanna taste you again so bad,” His voice gets angrier as he fucks into you, the head of his dick rubbing along your slick walls like it was made to do that. “You taste way too good for a fucking brat.”
Loud moans spill from your mouth, the sound of skin slapping is everywhere, the gushing sound proof of your arousal. You don’t know what’s making your eyebrows scrunch together, being fucked or listening to his words, or both. How does he know exactly what you like?
“Y/N,” he loudly groans as you clench around him. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he mumbles under his heavy breath as he shakes his head, his movements not matching what he’s saying as he continues to pound into your asscheeks, your hip bones slamming into the edge of the desk and the skin of your ass recoiling against his hips with every thrust. “Tell me to stop.”
He lets go of your arms and leans over you, chest pressed into your back. He presses a kiss to the back of your ear, a hand sneaking around to grasp your throat. You prop yourself up on your elbows, arching your back as he gently tugs on your throat from the back.
“No,” you say breathlessly, earning a groan from him as he continues to bruise your hips by slamming them into the wooden desk in front of you.
“Tell me to stop,” he repeats with a soft moan, lips grazing the shell of your ear, the pounding of his hips getting rougher by the second.
“No,” you repeat, one hand of yours coming up to wrap around the wrist of his hand that’s still wrapped around your throat, showing him you want nothing more than for him to keep going and not let go of you.
He simply grunts in response, hips still snapping into your ass as you whimper and quietly cry out under his weight, balls slamming into your clit with every thrust.
“Fuck, you have no idea how fucking bad I’ve wanted you.” He presses a kiss to your jaw, licking at it right after as if it’s hard for him to not mark you.
“You probably say that to all the employees you sleep with,” you whimper, brattiness returning full force.
At that, his thrusting comes to an abrupt halt. You look over your shoulder and his face is so damn close to yours, glaring right at you.
“I’ve never fucked any of my employees. Did you not hear a single thing I just said?” The frown on his brows is proof he’s being serious. You were just provoking him, though.
“I did. You just shouldn’t make it so easy to piss you off.” You can barely finish your sentence when he pulls out of you and yanks you up by your biceps, turning you around by your waist. You gasp softly at the sudden change in strength when he pushes you back onto the desk, this time on your bum and with your legs spread, like before.
He wedges himself in between your thighs and shoves himself right back into you, earning a yelp from you as you throw your head back at the intrusion once again. He takes this opportunity to reach out and wrap his hand around your throat again, squeezing it softly. Tears prick in your eyes at the delicious burn in your walls but he doesn’t seem to care, he just starts fucking into you like he hates you.
“I need to look at your bratty fucking face when you cum.” His other hand reaches down to rub circles on your clit with his thumb, the single action making you dizzy.
“Fuck!” you whimper, sitting up right on one asscheek while you hold your other leg up in the air next to you. “I’m gonna–” you cry out as he continues to rub small, consistent circles on your attention-seeking clit, your eyes shifting down to where the both of you are connected, watching intently as he disappears inside of you.
“I know, baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the side of your face. His own orgasm must be approaching him because the soft moans spilling from his lips directly into your ear pushes you straight over the edge. He leans back a bit to be able to look at your face, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he commits the sight to memory.
Your entire body shakes as bliss takes over, heat bursting in your core and trailing through your veins to the very tips of your fingers and toes. Yoongi’s fingers and hips never falter in speed and precision, making you see every single celestial body in the universe on the back of your eyelids every time you try to blink your tears away.
His name leaves your mouth in a chorus of moans, your hands squeezing his biceps almost painfully, which you only realize when he hisses.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbles as he leans forward to press a soft kiss to your lips, a stark contrast to the rough pounding of his hips into yours.
He curses quietly. “Shit, I’m gonna cum,” His breathing is getting heavier and his hips start stuttering, wordlessly letting you know he’s seconds away from his own orgasm.
You don’t even have to think about an answer, “Then cum,” you mumble against his lips, cupping his neck, your fingers draping over the back of his neck.
“Where–”
“Cum wherever you want,” you say before licking into his mouth, a low grunt rumbling in his chest before he pulls out just in time as white ropes instantly shoot all over your sex and inner thighs, missing your pushed-aside panties by a hair. The sensation of his warm load covering your skin has you clenching around nothing, already missing how full he made you feel.
He’s trying to catch his breath, his neck glistening with sweat and his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Unfortunately for him, you can’t stand the empty feeling.
“Y/N,” he moans as you take his dick into your hand, aiming it at your sex as you pump him some more to milk him of every last drop, letting him cum all over your pussy. His eyes are squinted, his gaze glued to your cum-covered cunt. “You’re so fucking filthy.” His hips thrust into your hand and you stare up at him as he’s riding out his orgasm. He’s so beautiful.
Curses and your name continue to fall from his lips as he squeezes his eyes shut. You rub the tip of his dick between your folds, watching as he winces when you guide him back into your wetness until he’s completely buried inside but he doesn’t make any efforts to stop you.
Your hands move up to his shoulders and then drop to his chest, your eyes innocently greeting him when he opens his eyes after he’s come down from his high. “Damn. That was so fucking g–”
The door creaks open.
And now you wake up!
Nope… You’re still here.
Your heart drops straight into your ass as the both of you turn your head to look at the intruder. Thankfully, the person only has a sideways view of your bodies, allowing your sexes to be shielded from their view by your thigh.
“Where the hell is my– Oh.” Namjoon’s voice rings in your ears like he’s inside of your head and your hand flies up to your lips, shielding your agape mouth as he flicks on the lights. “Oh.” The second time he says it, his tone is just realization personified.
For the few seconds that Namjoon stands there, he looks confused, surprised, amused, all of it at once as his eyes flicker between the two of you for a moment before giving a curt nod, turning off the lights, exiting and closing the door behind him.
You turn to look at Yoongi with shock on your face, but you’re greeted with a smug expression on his face, one that you would love to smack right off. “Why would you not lock the door?!” you screech, your hand moving up to flick his forehead.
“Ow!” He rubs his forehead where you flicked him, a pout on his swollen lips. He looks pretty cute like this. “I didn’t think anyone would leave the party to go snooping around!” he says, the words coming out high-pitched.
You can’t help but find him adorable at this moment. This is definitely Yoongi and not your mighty boss. You don’t let it show though, as you rub your hairline to gather some of the sweat. “Fuck. What if he tells?”
“Namjoon? Be happy it was Namjoon.” He shakes his head at what seems an outrageous thought to him. “He knows my darkest secrets. I trust him with my life.”
You tilt your head to the side, taking the info in. “So, he’s like… your best friend?” For some reason, associating the term best friend with Agust D makes no sense in your head.
“No.” He tilts his head as he dabs the back of his hand into the side of his neck in an attempt to dry some of his sweat. “He’s like my brother.”
“Well, your brother just saw you balls deep inside of his coworker.”
He winces as you say those words, which makes a mischievous giggle leave your mouth but you soon wince too when he slowly pulls out of your pussy. You’d completely forgotten his dick was still nestled inside of you, almost as if it felt natural to have him inside of you.
He slowly tucks his dick back into his boxers, careful not to stain his clothes as he zips his pants back up. His eyes scan the room, searching for something. “Wait here,” he mumbles before disappearing behind the door.
You quietly sigh to yourself, eyes glancing down at your sex that’s completely covered in your boss’ cum, not to mention someone else’s desk you defiled with your slick and your boss’ sperm.
You’re a cheating whore and some random desk is what you’re worrying over?
You wince at your imaginary angel’s words and your imaginary demon doesn’t seem to have a rebuttal. Well, why would it? Your angel is right.
The door creaks open again and it’s Yoongi, returning with a box of wet wipes and a roll of toilet paper. He closes the door behind him and flicks on the lights, walking up to you and hunching over, face leaning into your sticky pelvis.
You intently watch as he gently wipes your sex clean with the wet wipes, leaving a kiss on your pelvic bone before he tucks your panties back into place. He helps you up and helps you get dressed, wordlessly fixing your hair and makeup for you.
You just watch as he gently cups your cheek, his face deep in concentration as he wipes under your bottom lashes, tongue darting out at the corner of his mouth in concentration.
You’re reminded of the time he did this back in his home office.
“You know,” you start, “you’re always acting like an asshole but you’re just a big softie at heart,” you say as you stare at him with doe eyes, knowing how much he loves those eyes of yours.
His piercing gaze drapes of your face, intensely staring into your eyes for a moment before returning his attention to fixing your face. He doesn’t say anything to that and your lungs implode with worry, mind racing at the possibility your words came out wrong.
You want to backtrack. “I mean, like… you’re just so–”
“I know.” He cuts you off, his voice monotoned. You swallow at the attitude change and bite down on your lip, your hand grabbing a fistful of his blazer to pull him closer.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that.” You tug on his blazer to get his attention, your other hand rubbing his chest gently.
“How did you mean it?” he says indifferently, eyes now focused on your hair as he tries to fix it.
You tilt your head slightly, wanting him to look into your eyes and he does. You take a breath before you speak, “That most times I want to jump your bones but now I think you’ve very cute.”
He narrows his eyes at your words and you see his ears turning a bright shade of crimson in real time.
“Oh, my God. You’re blushing,” you coo as you rub the shell of his ear with your thumb before he grunts in his signature grumpy tone and slaps your hand away.
“Let’s go back to the party before anyone suspects us,” he grumbles as he cleans the desk with the remaining tissue, slapping your ass to get you to hop off and you do.
You land on your feet as you adjust your clothes again, looking over your shoulder at him. He throws the tissues away in the garbage can somewhere in the back of the room before he brushes past you and reaches out to the door handle.
Before you can stop yourself, you grab onto his blazer when he reaches out to open the door. He turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow as you tug him back toward you. “What is it?” he asks, letting himself stumble back a bit by your pull.
“Can you kiss me before we go back? I don’t know when I’ll get to kiss or see you again,” you say quietly, nervously shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you await his response, pretty lashes fluttering at him.
He stares at you in silence for a few seconds before he wordlessly fulfills your request. He brings his hands up, cupping your face as he closes in on your face and gently presses his lips to yours. The sweet kiss is a stark contrast to what he just did to you in the middle of a dimly lit room during work hours.
His soft lips moving against yours has you thinking your knees could give out any moment, so you desperately hold onto his blazer.
He slowly pulls back and opens his eyes as he stares into yours for a moment, “You’ll get to kiss me again when I leave with you in about,” he pauses as his gaze shifts to the silver Rolex around his left wrist, “half an hour to fuck you on every single piece of furniture in my home.”
And with that, he turns in one swift motion, pulls the door open and walks out of the room without another word.
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