douglass-fir

yoongivore. jinkook soft-serve machine. writer. queer adult. mdni.  twitter | ao3

[douglass-fir]

Bonus Scenes: Phone Booth Epiphany

// Spoilers ahead. I recommend you read the full fic before the bonus scenes.

The Phone Booth Epiphany

When Seokjin enters an old phone booth in a lavender field, his world changes forever.

🌾 Rated E, 25K words 🌾 slow burn 🌾 warm slice of life 🌾 farmer jk, writer jin 🌾 fluff & smut 🌾 angst w/ happy ending 🌾 kinda magical

🔗 https://archiveofourown.org/works/33940855/

Trailer

Bonus Scenes

/// Spoilers Ahead ///

These bonus scenes are raw and unedited—a weird combo of storytelling, Q&A, and just dumping my thoughts. But I hope you enjoy them! Let’s get started!

Part I: Q&A

Did former visitors to the farm regain their memories of the village once the spell was broken?

Yes! As a recap: visitors to the farm lost their detailed memories about their stay after 1 year—when a new visitor arrived.

When the spell broke, memories of their stay were all recovered! As you can imagine, more than a few former visitors returned to the farm to explore once their memories returned (more on that later.)

Mrs. Ahn mentioned that Jeongguk had other lovers. Did everyone who visited the farm fall in love with Jeongguk?

Definitely not. In fact, Jeongguk was just a kid when the village first disappeared. Most of the people who visited were simply expecting a relaxing vacation, often with their families. They had a nice time, hopefully felt inspired to pursue their dreams, and went home. Seokjin falling in love was an anomaly, but an important one, because it’s what motivated him to figure out how to break the spell.

What was Seokjin’s greatest wish (that broke the spell), specifically?

Seokjin’s greatest wish was to write a children’s story inspired by someone he loved, and be able to read it to them.

How did Jeongguk's parents pass away?

[CW // minor character death.] I hesitate to include this, because it's dark and can bring the mood down. But if you like darkish themes: When the spell first trapped the villagers in a "bubble", Jeongguk's parents were one of the brave souls that attempted to test the boundaries of how far they could escape past the village's borders. Unfortunately, they discovered that any original residents (those under the curse) who tried to escape the village, were immediately vaporized upon touching the border. This is why you never see Jeongguk go beyond the Phone Booth, even when taking Seokjin to the bus stop.

Part II: About Jeongguk's Lovers

Before Seokjin, Jeongguk had two other lovers. Once you hear about them, it’s a little easier to understand why Jeongguk told Seokjin his greatest fear was “being forgotten”.

One of Jeongguk’s lovers was a businessman who visited just two years before Seokjin. Unfortunately, after he returned home and his letters went unanswered, the man took this as a sign that Jeongguk had simply moved on. He quickly got distracted with the demands of his corporation, and one year later, had no memory of his brief affair with Jeongguk.

Jeongguk’s first love, however, is a more interesting story. A case of young, summer love:

Jeongguk is 19 at the time, and a handsome, young college student visits the village with his parents. Jeongguk was not prepared for the ripple of nervousness that raced through his hands when he lays eyes on the young man’s dimples and soft smile. This was all new for him. Jeongguk keeps his anxiety at bay by helping around the farm, but Mrs. Ahn doesn’t miss the way he blushes and turns his face toward the ground when the young visitor is around. Or the way Jeongguk awkwardly shuffles his feet and plays with his hands when he talks to him as he reads on the porch.

Mrs. Ahn doesn’t want to be pushy, but she finds her chance to talk to Jeongguk one evening as she steps into the kitchen. He’s sitting in the corner, nervously pushing food around his bowl—a magic-8-ball of emotions playing out on his face.

It takes some gentle prodding, but eventually he cracks. “It feels weird sometimes. When he’s around,” he confides.

“Who, Jeongguk-ah?” Mrs. Ahn said as she glanced at him, trying to school her expression.

“…Namjoon-hyung.”

“Ahhh..” Mrs. Ahn says, holding back a knowing smile. “He’s nice, isn’t he?”

Jeongguk catches her eyes and nods shyly.

“So, what you’re feeling…would you call it a good weird, or a bad weird?” she asks.

Jeongguk thinks about this for a moment, staring at his food as if he’d find the answers among the grains of rice. “Feels like both. Like, sometimes it feels like my heart is racing, like it’s trying to work it’s way out and my chest isn’t big enough to hold it back.”

Mrs. Ahn hums.

“Other times he looks at me and I just wanna hide,” Jeongguk blushes, feet shuffling beneath the chair.

“Jeongguk-ah…” Mrs. Ahn chuckles. “sounds like maybe you have feelings for him? Do you think you like him?”

“Don’t know.” Jeongguk scrunches his nose, a little embarrassed.

“It’s okay not to know,” Mrs. Ahn assures him. “That’s half the fun, Jeongguk-ah. Discovering your feelings, finding out if he feels the same…”

“But he’s going to leave, isn’t he…” Jeongguk pouts.

Mrs. Ahn grows quiet. “It’s true, darling. He will leave. And there’s…there’s a good chance he won’t come back.”

“They never come back,” Jeongguk pouts.

Mrs. Ahn squeezes his hand. “Someday, Jeongguk-ah. Someday. Someone will come back for us.”

Jeongguk’s eyes get glassy as he keeps his eyes on his food.

She continues in a hushed tone. “We don’t know when we’ll be free, my dear, but here’s what I do know: love, Jeongguk-ah, is a gift. And contrary to the storybooks, it doesn’t last forever,” Mrs. Ahn says with a regretful cough. “It’s a mysterious door that, if you’re lucky, opens at least once in one’s lifetime,” she says softly.

“If that door opens for you, dear boy—and the person on the other side is worthy of your heart—you run. Run through it and don’t look back,” she says as she tucks a curl behind Jeongguk’s ear. “Sure, it may hurt down the road. You may have moments of regret. But embrace it. Feel everything life offers you, Jeongguk-ah.”

She brushes a tear from Jeongguk’s cheek.

“Love and pain—they’re twins, you see. They hold hands. Don’t reject one just to avoid the other, my dear.” She squeezes Jeongguk’s hand. “To love someone…is a rare thing. Nothing else in nature gets this opportunity. So if you see that door open, Jeongguk-ah…be brave.”

And so—he is.

Jeongguk and Namjoon have their first kiss on the porch two nights later, fingers tentatively linked, barely brushing as their legs hang from the swing.

Namjoon is Jeongguk’s first kiss. His first love. His first everything. Tender and kind, understanding of Jeongguk’s quiet nature.

Unfortunately, the inevitable happens and Namjoon has to return home with his family. They promise to write each other and Jeongguk holds his breath. Namjoon goes off to college in the States and writes Jeongguk as promised, but the letters never arrive. Namjoon is heartbroken, but one year later, his broken heart fully heals when his memory is wiped clean.

That is, until years later.

Namjoon is married, sitting on the couch, watching the news with his daughter climbing him like a tree. Jimin is sitting beside them, tucked under his arm.

A news story plays about a missing village returning, and Jeongguk’s face flashes on the screen, describing the history of the town to a local reporter.

In a single moment, it all comes back to him. The village. The kiss. Jeongguk.

Namjoon sits up, breathing heavily, looking at the screen.

Jimin turns to face him. “Joonie? Joon, are you okay?”

“I…” Namjoon grabs Jimin’s hand and squeezes. “…I think we need to talk.”

Namjoon knew he needed to return. Though his romantic feelings were far behind him, he needed to know he hadn’t imagined it all. Jimin, always understanding, held his hand the entire drive to the village.

Namjoon thought it would be awkward as he knocks on the farmhouse door, but the moment Jeongguk recognizes him and tackles him in a huge bear hug, he knows everything will be okay. As soon as Jeongguk lets go, he embraces Jimin and their little girl without explanation. Namjoon can see it on his face—the joy in knowing that someone you care about is happy and healthy.

The two families form an instant bond. Seokjin and Jimin turn out to be a chaotic pair—troublemakers that bring out the best in everyone around them. Jeongguk adores Jimin’s playful, affectionate nature, how he dotes on them all like he’s known them all for decades.

Needless to say, Nabi and their daughter become thick as thieves, and the two families become virtually inseparable.

Together, Jimin and Namjoon fall in love with the village, and with who they are when they’re there. Connected to the earth, connected to each other.

So eventually, after several visits and lots of late night, heart-to-heart talks, Namjoon and his family move to the village for good. He ultimately takes a job as “village security” (but he hopes once the media frenzy dies down, he can help more with the actual farming.) Namjoon’s heart is full. All those years ago, his soul told him the village was home. He just needed an unlikely path to get there.

As for Jeongguk—in a way, he feels as if he’s come full circle. With Namjoon, Jeongguk first learned to feel the warmth of love—to risk putting his heart close to the fire. And with Seokjin, he let the flames consume him.

Part III: What happened to Seokjin's letters?

Jeongguk knows he was never far from Seokjin’s mind during their time apart, but he doesn’t realize how painfully Seokjin pined for him until long after their reunion.

Seokjin admits to him that he did, in fact, write to Jeongguk as he promised. Jeongguk figures it’s a few letters. Maybe a dozen. He is not prepared for the giant crate of letters Seokjin hands him the day he finally moves in.

“This heavy thing…” Seokjin says as he hefts the large box into Jeongguk’s hands, “belongs to you, bun.”

“For me?”

“I wrote you every day, just like I promised.”

Jeongguk looks into the box, filled with stacks and stacks of envelopes.

He bursts into tears.

It’s a lot of letters, and Jeongguk soon finds that it can be emotionally heavy to read them, so he takes his time.

Maybe one per week.

Seokjin can always tell whenever Jeongguk has read another one, because he’ll come down the stairs in the morning and notice a new, miniature painting on the wall.

You see, Seokjin often described his memories in his letters, or things he encountered that Jeongguk or Nabi would’ve enjoyed.

So now, Jeongguk takes some of the things mentioned in the letters (like parks, or flowers, or animals Seokjin describes; or memories from their time together), and turns them into small paintings. He hangs them in the hallway, forming a timeline along the wall. So in some small way, the moments they were apart become tethered again. The story and the illustrator.

Seokjin’s favorite among them is a painting of the two of them, watching the fireflies.

Part IV: Nabi's Father

Jeongguk didn’t know much about Nabi’s father. No one did for that matter, not even Mrs. Ahn. The woman only knew that her daughter, Eunji, had a brief affair with a visitor.

Eunji assured her that it wasn’t anything serious. They were just friends.

So it’s a surprise, a year after the spell breaks, when Mrs. Ahn opens the door to her cottage to find a dashing young man, holding flowers nervously in his hand.

Mrs. Ahn’s eyes widen at what she sees.

His high cheekbones. His dimples. His heart-shaped smile. The elegant curve of his nose.

It’s Nabi. He looks like Nabi.

“I’m so sorry, I just, I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Hoseok…I saw the news and I—I just wanted to see if it was real. It was real…wasn’t it?”

The hours and days that follow are an avalanche of highs and lows. Hobi learns of Eunji’s fate. He meets her daughter, Nabi, and nearly crumbles at the way his heart swells.

He knows. They all do.

What follows are many tender conversations between Hoseok and the family. They learn more about each other. Hoseok is a dancer that spends his time traveling the world with his partner (also a dancer.) He never planned on or suspected he’d had a child.

Though they all agree on a paternity test, Hoseok makes it clear that he has no intention of taking Nabi from her home—from her family. “But I’d like to be part of it, if you all will accept me?” Hoseok asks tearfully.

Mrs. Ahn crosses the room and kisses his head. “My dear boy, you were part of this family before you even asked.”

The tests confirm their suspicions, so they set out to find a way to explain this to Nabi in a way she can understand.

An idea hits Seokjin late one night as he’s snuggled in bed. He untangles himself from Jeongguk’s arms and sits up to turn on the nightlight. He grabs a notebook from his bedside table.

Jeongguk groans at the loss of his favorite pillow. “Hyungphh…what’re you doin’, come back.”

“I gotta jot down an idea, Jeongguk-ah. ‘Gonna go sit at the desk. Go back to sleep, baby.”

“Noooooo,” Jeongguk whines as he holds Seokjin closer. “You’re so warm.”

Seokjin chuckles and pushes at him. “Okay then—roll over,”

“Huh?”

“Put that hard body to work, baby. You’re gonna be my desk,” Seokjin says as he gives Jeongguk’s thigh a few smacks.

“M’kay, hyung—” Jeongguk sleepily rolls over completely, laying on his stomach so Seokjin can rest the notebook on his back. Seokjin smiles as he feels his warmth radiate through the paper, pages rising and falling to the rhythm of the younger man’s gentle snoring.

The next morning, Seokjin shares his idea with Jeongguk, and the younger man’s face grows soft as he wraps his arms around Seokjin.

“Hyung, your mind is the prettiest place. This is perfect.”

A few days later, they’re sitting around the fireplace after dinner, and Hoseok is teaching Nabi a special “flower dance” where he lifts her into the air so her ‘petals can reach the sunshine’.

Nabi giggles as Hoseok lowers her to the ground and she eventually plops, exhausted, into Seokjin’s lap. She leans over and whispers to Jeongguk, sitting beside them, “Oppa, I like him very much.”

Jeongguk sees his chance.

“Stay right here, peanut,” he says as he exits the room and comes back with a large notepad in hand.

Jeongguk sits on the floor beside Nabi and leans into her side. “Nabi-yah…what if I told you that Hoseok is family too?”

Her eyes light up. “He is?”

Hoseok smiles and nods from the other side of the room, trying to give the two their space.

“He’s a special kind of family. Let me show you.”

He flips to a clean page on the pad and leans forward to draw. “You were a gift to us, weren’t you, Nabi-yah…”

“Yep!” she chirps.

“Okay, a gift from where?”

“From the stars!” she recalls from a tale Mrs. Ahn told her a long time ago.

“That’s right, smart girl!” Jeongguk says as he draws two tiny stars on the page.

“You see, a long time ago, Hoseok and your eomma each took a piece of their stars, and put them together to make a new star! That’s you, Nabi-yah. A little piece of Hoseok’s star is in you!” he smiles as he tickles her with the end of his pencil.

Nabi giggles and rubs her tummy, as if she can feel the star inside her.

Jeongguk continues drawing, “And the universe thought you were so beautiful, and so bright, that it sent even more stars to protect you. Your very own constellation.”

He draws three more dots on the paper. “This star is Halmeoni, this one is me, and this star is Seokjin-oppa.” Jeongguk then connects all the dots on the page, forming the shape of a heart.

Nabi lets out a delighted gasp and reaches out, placing her small hand inside the heart.

“So you see, these stars will always be your family—will always be there to love you, our most precious star-baby,” he ruffles her hair. “Do you understand?”

She looks at Hoseok and crinkles her nose as she smiles. Hoseok’s smile mirrors her own, and Jeongguk’s heart melts.

“It’s okay if you want to take some time to think about it, peanut—”

“It’s wrong…” she interrupts, matter-of-factly.

“It’s…wrong?” Jeongguk says, pulse racing.

“Where is Yoongi-oppa? Where is Tae-oppa?”

The room fills with silent joy and relief. “Nabi-yah, you’re right!”

Jeongguk says as he adds two more stars to the page.

“And what about Namjoon-oppa and Jimin-oppa and— ?”

“Okay! Okay! Two more stars, coming up!” Jeongguk giggles and lifts the pad up. “See peanut? Look at all these stars! Whenever you look at the night sky, I want you to see them and remember all the little lights sent to love you, okay, baby?”

Jeongguk can’t help but tear up as he says it. Nabi can’t help but notice.

“Okay, oppa,” she whispers and bonks her head against his. “Are you sad?”

“No, peanut,” he says as he pulls her onto his lap.

“Then why do you have tears?” she says as he looks up at him.

“They’re not tears, peanut,” Seokjin says as he leans into Jeongguk’s side. “Just a little stardust.”

Part V: What kind of parents are Jinkook?

i’m obsessed with the idea of Jeongguk being the “super responsible” parent, and Seokjin the CEO of spoiling Nabi rotten.

For example:

Seokjin takes the family out for a fun day at the park. Nabi tugs on his sleeve and asks for a treat, but Jeongguk is like “Okay, Peanut—but only something small, we don’t wanna spoil dinner.”

Six minutes later, Seokjin comes back with this:

Jeongguk protests but Seokjin comes prepared with his Premium Pout and Jeongguk is fucking weak.

So Jeongguk sighs and looks down to Nabi, whose eyes are suddenly full of stars, softly blinking as she pouts her bottom lip like a little jelly bean.

Jeongguk scoffs and turns to Seokjin.

“WHO taught her that—did you teach her that?!”

Seokjin just grins and hands each of them a fork.

They eat it all, of course.

—————

Come holler at me on twitter.

[douglass-fir]

Jungkook's mind runs a little wild at night, so he pads down the hall to Seokjin's room and peeks in the door.

Even half asleep, Seokjin is always ready for him, lifting the covers and scooting to make room for Jungkook, who tucks himself into the space beside him. 

Jungkook’s mind isn't nearly as sleepy as his body, so he’ll use the safe space of his hyung’s bed to air out his worries, his dreams.

Seokjin has always felt a sense of protection over him—19 is a lot, after all. The whole world is opening up while you still feel foreign in your own skin.

“Something keeping you up?” Seokjin will always ask.

“They’re being loud again,” Jungkook laments as he wiggles beneath the sheets. He feels warm.

“Ahhh, Tae and Jiminie…” Seokjin chuckles. “I thought I heard something.”

Jungkook groans. “They’re so gross.” 

Seokjin grins and pulls Jungkook closer. The room gets quiet, and he thinks Jungkook has nodded off as his breathing evens out.

But the silence is broken when he hears a whisper, muffled beneath the covers.

“Sometimes I’m a little jealous. Of them,” Jungkook admits.

Seokjin pulls back from sleep, heart picking up speed. “Jealous?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook responds. “It…must be nice to have someone you can just..share everything with. Like, your whole heart and stuff.”

Something about that sits heavily in Seokjin’s gut. 

Jungkook doesn’t often talk about romance or dating, but Seokjin can feel the concern shooting down his arms and into his fingertips as he squeezes Jungkook’s shoulder.

Who on earth could possibly be worthy of holding Jungkook’s whole heart? he thinks. Seokjin knows he doesn't have the right to worry; Jungkook needs to live his life as a grown adult.

But in his exhausted state, Seokjin's mind takes off. Would this person treat Jungkook well? Would they understand his quirks—the way he needs to release pent-up energy to stay focused? 

Jungkook is so tender and wears his heart on his sleeve. Would they be gentle with him? Would they give him space? Would they make sure he knows just how good he is, especially on days he’s hard on himself?

Who could possibly be good enough—strong enough for such a responsibility?

Seokjin knows how 'first loves' go. Messy, broken, imperfect. Painful. The thought of Jungkook being heartbroken feels like a weight around his throat. He's finding it hard to breathe as the words come out of his mouth...

“Hey, Jungkook-ah. Hey, turn around for a sec.”

“Hmm?” Jungkook rolls over and searches Seokjin's face, worry widening his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, uh,” Seokjin stutters. “Just make me a promise, okay?” Seokjin says as he pushes the hair from the younger’s forehead.

“Mmn, sure, hyung.”

“Save a piece…for yourself," Seokjin says lowly. "One day, you’ll meet someone special and you’ll want to hand over your whole heart—all at once. Just…please promise me you’ll save a small piece for yourself.”

Jungkook seems unsure—nervous even. But he nods his head slowly and whispers, “Okay, hyung,” before pulling the sheets above his nose, hiding the lower half of his face and blinking slowly.

“Okay, Ongguah.” Seokjin ruffles his hair, a little uncertain. 

Jungkook’s anxious expression makes Seokjin instantly regret having posed such a ridiculous request. But he tries to shrug it off as Jungkook rolls over and reassumes his position as the little spoon.

“It's okay, hyung,” Jungkook whispers again as he squeezes Seokjin's arm. “I promise.”

Seokjin’s heart slows. He'd apologize to Jungkook for making him nervous in the morning. He forces his mind to slow down, and lets Jungkook’s warmth sink in before drifting to sleep.

Whatever happened, no matter who Jungkook chose to love, he'd always be there for him.

That's all he could do. 

Of course, Seokjin would eventually learn—through teary eyes and trembling hands—that the look on Jungkook’s face wasn’t one of nervousness, but of regret.

Regret because, for the first time, Jungkook had lied to his favorite hyung.

You see, Jungkook couldn’t possibly keep a promise to hold a piece of his heart for himself.

Not when his whole heart already belonged to Seokjin.

💜💜💜💜💜

twitter | ao3

[hotstreet666]

They all failed you, I won't.

“-I could never reject anything that was made by you. I’d like to think I had a hand in keeping you safe” 

ao3.org/works/36974044

[oki10s]

when i’m with you 💫

[douglass-fir]

"There was only one bed" but it’s Jinkook accidentally locked in an IKEA tiny-house model.

They only meant to nap for a moment. Just “rest” their eyes for a bit during a hectic day of shopping. But when they awaken in a quiet IKEA, locked in a tiny-home model, Jungkook leaps into action.

Cell service sucks in the metal-roofed warehouse. But Jungkook manages to find a brief window of service—not to call the police, but to search YouTube for survival tips.

“Hyung—it says we have to shelter-in-place,” Jungkook yells as he strips the pillows off the couch to build a “fort” in the living room.

With little cell signal and zero work responsibilities beating down his door, Seokjin declares this the “best day of his life” and promptly plops face-first on Jungkook's pile of cushions for a nap.

Meanwhile, Jungkook works out their "survival game plan". During this time, Jungkook builds a proper pillow fort (around a sleeping Seokjin), and collected all the sample food in the kitchen into one "emergency rations corner".

He grabs a string of fairy lights from the wall and re-routes it to cast a calming glow in their pillowy safe-house.

Jungkook reads that warmth is a "key to survival", so he takes the most important step of crawling into the pillow fort, wiggling up to Seokjin's chest and wrapping his arms around him to keep him warm from the chilly warehouse air.

Seokjin cracks an eye open to the sight of fairy lights under a canopy of blankets, Jungkook's warmth around him.

"You take such good care of hyung, Jungkook-ah," he whispers with a fond smile. He kisses the top of a sleeping Jungkook's head, and pulls him closer before falling back asleep.

But Jungkook heard every word, and feels chest fill with warmth, so proud that he was able to properly care for his hyung.😌

That was truly all he ever wanted.

******

Jungkook wakes a few hours later nestled in Seokjin’s arms, tucked away in their little pillow fort when he realizes…he needs a bathroom.

Like now.

So he tiptoes around Seokjin, snoring in their pillow fort, and stacks chairs and tables until he can scale the wall and quietly unlock the door to the tiny house from the outside.

Seokjin startles awake later to the sound of Jungkook plopping down beside him.

“Hyung, look!”

Seokjin wipes the sleep from his eyes to see Jungkook holding a massive bag of gummies, and Seokjin instantly knows he fell in love with the right man.

“Jungkook-ah, we’re free?” he asks with a sleepy mouth full of candy.

“Yeah…" Jungkook says with a sad smile. "I guess we are. I mean…the warehouse is still locked. But we have the whole place to ourselves!"

“You know what this means, don’t you, Jungkook-ah?”

“We call the police to unlock the doors?”

“Shopping cart race!” Seokjin says as he stands, dusts his hands off, and takes off running.

Jungkook and Seokjin spend the next hour racing flatbed carts down the aisles, assigning the winner based on the best 2 out of 3.

Then 3 out of 5.

Then 6 out of 10.

Next, they raid the candy wall and Seokjin’s heart melts at the way Jungkook stuffs his bunny cheeks, making an angry face when something tastes too good for words.

Then it’s off to the furniture aisles to conduct “important research”—jumping on each bed, and rating it on a scale of 1-10 for its ability to handle “acrobatics and sex stuff.”

Seokjin eventually bounces to the floor and stretches. “Be right back, Jungkook-ah. Hyung’s gotta use the restroom.”

He heads to the back of the warehouse, does his business, and is running back toward Jungkook’s voice—when he stops in his tracks.

It’s a door. An employee exit door.

He gently pushes on the handle.

It’s unlocked from the inside.

Seokjin quietly peeks his head out, a cool breeze hitting his face as he hears Jungkook’s laugh echoing in the distance.

“Oh my god, hyung, you gotta try this bed! I almost did a flip!” Seokjin hears faintly.

Jungkook sounds like a kid again. Vibrating with simple joy, without a care in the world.

Seokjin’s heart clenches and he purses his lips. He knows what he has to do.

“Be right there, bun,” he shouts as he lets the door close behind him, running back toward Jungkook.

He never mentions the door. 💕

twitter | ao3

[mobikosmos]

meowntain

[jung-koook]

he is love

[vminkookminv]

🔞snippet: patreon drabble - yoonkook: bunkoo, public humiliation, overstimulation (1700 words)

Tags for this snippet: total power exchange, coercion, manipulation, embarrassment kink, humiliation, public fondling, sensitive jk, mean dom yg, exhibitionism

Jungkook allows his shirt to be pulled up. Everyone coos at the cute little tail, and Jungkook basks in praises, feeling high and happy. He smiles at his boyfriend. Yoongi is holding up his shirt with one hand, smiling at him too.

Meanwhile the other begins to touch his tail. Jungkook clamps his thighs down on one of Yoongi’s. His eyebrows scrunch in confused pleasure as Yoongi tweaks it like he usually does when they’re alone.

“Hyung–” Jungkook whines quietly, his ears twitching.

“Shh, bunny. They can’t see your tail properly. I’m just showing it to them.”

“They can.” The bunny’s nose scrunches up as he looks back. There are a lot of people behind him, all eyes transfixed on where Yoongi is playing with his tail. He uses two fingers to pull on it, ever so slowly, making Jungkook heat up from the inside, burning.

It’s almost too much to bear. Jungkook turns back to Yoongi as he begins to rock his hips back against Yoongi’s hand. It makes his cock rub against his hard thigh too, and he’s enjoying the friction. Doesn’t even realise he’s getting hard until it’s too late.

Because fuck, he’s never gotten this hard so quickly from just a little petting. It’s like he’s a thousand times more sensitive with all these people watching. The heat from the alcohol fades a bit as Jungkook becomes to feel a different type of need, one that’s far more urgent.

“Please hyung,” Jungkook squirms on his thigh, ears turning pink when people behind him begin to mumble and whisper. They’re probably talking about how the little bunny can’t control himself, but he just can’t help it. He needs Yoongi to help him.

“Come on,” Yoongi coaxes. “Let everyone see.”

_________________________

Click here to read the full version on Patreon.  (1700 words)

Tags: total power exchange, coercion, manipulation, embarrassment kink, humiliation, public fondling, stripping, sensitive jk, mean dom yg, public orgasm, multiple orgasms, use of ‘slut’, exhibitionism, dacryphilia, use of alcohol

[douglass-fir]

Jungkook sucks in a breath and bolts for the door.

It happens the same way every year.

Jungkook rolls out of bed and wipes the dew from his window. He scans the park across the street—looking for the first sign of yellow on the leaves. And when he spots it, he sucks in a breath and bolts for the door, hastily throwing on shoes before running at full speed toward the trees.

The cool breeze whips at his face as he sprints across the park, his chest burning, losing his breath as he finally collides chest-first into him. It's the best kind of pain, feeling his hyung's broad chest against his own—warm and solid and real.

He can't help but throw his arms around him and squeeze as he buries his face into his neck. Seokjin chuckles warmly as he strokes his hair.

"Jungkook-ah, you've gotten too big to hug me this tightly. I can't breathe," he laughs.

"Shut up," Jungkook says, his heart soaring. "…Missed you so much," he admits softly into Seokjin's shoulder.

“I missed you too,” Seokjin breathes into his hair.

Jungkook's hands roam, squeezing his shoulders, his arms, his hands.

He needs to know he’s there—in the flesh. Needs to press into Seokjin’s skin and remember every detail.

“Don’t forget this. You can’t forget.” Jungkook's mind echoes like a drum. Jungkook inhales Seokjin’s woody smell and tries to still his heart.

Seokjin brings their foreheads together. “C’mon, Jungkook-ah, let’s shake off some of this nervous energy. I need to stretch my legs.”

Jungkook pulls back with a pout and Seokjin giggles in response.

“C’mon, bun. We have all the time in the world,” Seokjin comforts with a smile.

But Jungkook knows better—has known for years.

He takes Seokjin's hand as they walk through the park, inhaling the crisp air. He scans the sky and counts the leaves, willing them to stay in place, knowing when the last one disappears, so will Seokjin—until autumn’s color returns again.

🍁🍁🍁🍁

twitter | ao3

[mood board credit: @jinkooklovefest and @drunkonhouga]

[jiinjiinjarra]

BTS // 2021 Winter Package in Gangwon // Accordion Photo Stand // 2021 // Pt.14

Accordion Photo Stand (front/back): 4/14

Scan Cr. Jiinjiinjarra (me)

[actualseokjin]

i want your boo-ty

ship: Jinkook

rating: Explicit

word count: 45k

status: Completed

tags: Crack, Ghost Jin, Ghost Yoongi, Ghostly Shenanigans, Ghost Sex, Angst, Happy Ending, Numerous Stolen Toilet Seats, I Literally Don’t Know How To Describe The Side Ship Situation

When Jungkook moves into a new house and finds out that it’s haunted, he does the logical thing: try to have sex with the ghost.

read here

[douglass-fir]

Let's talk about Namjoon who just wants to Feel Pretty.

[18+] Let's talk about Namjoon who might have a secret Pinterest board for lacy, delicate undergarments. Namjoon who spent a little too much time drunk and online, and buys a pretty, pink, lingerie set.

When it arrives in a discreet box, he hardly remembers buying it. He blushes red as he opens the lid and runs his fingers across the lace, the prettiest shade of pink he's ever seen.

He's momentarily mystified before swiftly closing the box, looking around the dorm, and running to his room. He throws the lingerie box on the bed and stares at it.

I mean, it’s already here. Might as well try it on.

So he shuts his bedroom door and clumsily strips, stepping into each tiny piece one by one, pulling the garters taught over the fullness of his thighs. Namjoon can’t help but look in the mirror and blush. The pink bralette is snug, pushing the soft curves of his pecs together. His dusky nipples barely visible and hardened from the rough texture of the lace. He shivers when the loose-fitting strap slinks downward over his shoulder.

He turns around to peek at the round swell of his ass, skin warm and golden against the pink garters, stockings a size too small, making the flesh of his thighs spill over the seam and kiss. He can’t help but chub up at what he sees as he turns back around. His shaft is straining against the lace, curving upward, his tip peeking out past the band, shiny and smooth.

He struggles to adjust the straps properly, and is so engrossed in the process that he misses Yoongi knocking and immediately barging in, a notebook in hand, “Joon-ah you left this in my—”

Yoongi drops the notebook.

Namjoon drops his hands to cover himself. Fruitlessly. “I’m so sorry, god, shit—I—I’m leaving…I'm leaving! Carry on!”

Yoongi steps back and closes the door behind him.

Namjoon is mortified.

Not one to leave things unsettled, he immediately grabs his phone.

NJ: hyung I’m so fucking sorry. NJ: i didn’t mean for anyone to see that. NJ: it was just something i wanted to try. NJ: hyung, fuck, please answer me…

It’s a minute before his phone pings with a response.

YG: joon-ah it’s fine. i should’ve knocked. it’s my fault. YG: i’m glad you’re trying things that make you happy.

Namjoon breathes a sigh of relief.

NJ: please promise you won’t tell anyone. i’m begging.

YG: joon-ah, have i ever shared your secrets?

NJ: no. you haven’t. i’m sorry you had to see that. i’m sorry.

An insufferably long pause lingers before the reply comes through.

YG: as long as we’re being honest here…i’m not.

Namjoon can feel his heartbeat in his thumbs.

NJ: you’re not?

YG: i’m not sorry.

YG: actually, wait. i am sorry for barging in. but you, wearing that fit? should never apologize.

Namjoon might fucking die. He tries to stuff down the panic attached to his long-held crush on his favorite hyung. Yoongi who is always quietly confident in his sexuality. Whose shy, lingering stares feel like 100 pounds on his chest. Another ping on his phone snaps him out of it.

YG: sorry that was forward.

NJ: no, it’s okay. really. thank you i think?

Yoongi is typing. Then stopping. Then typing again. Seconds pass that like feel like hours before more messages come through.

YG: you know… YG: if you need help YG: with adjustments, i mean. fitting… YG: i can help you out. no pressure

The thought of Yoongi’s hands on him in this state send his blood rushing south. Sure, they’ve seen each other naked. It’s hardly avoidable. But like this? Delicate and pretty and /open/ from so many angles?

Never like this. Fuck it.

Namjoon’s hands shake as he types.

NJ: yeah. ok. that would be helpful

He throws the phone on the bed like it’s on fire, clutches his t-shirt to his chest, and waits. This time, the knock is almost silent.

“Joon-ah? Is it okay if I—”

“Yeah. Come in,” Joon croaks.

“Should’ve done that earlier, huh,” Yoongi blushes as he enters and closes the door behind him. “This okay? I just…noticed you needed a little help. This isn’t entirely new to me.”

Namjoon nods his head. “You’ve helped with lingerie fittings?”

Yoongi steps forward. Namjoon’s skin shivers at the first touch of his hands, slinking a finger under the bralette strap, dragging it across his skin as he slips it in place.

“Just my own,” Yoongi says shyly.

“Oh.”

Yoongi blushes, smiling softly as he pulls the straps taught, glancing up briefly to meet Namjoon’s eyes before looking down again. “It feels nice, doesn’t it.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon admits. “Feels different.”

Yoongi clears his throat, keeping his eyes lowered as he works, “Feels different…how?”

Namjoon’s skin is on fire but the adrenaline has him feeling heady, maybe a little brave.

“Pretty,” he says in a low voice. Throat dry. “Feels pretty.”

Yoongi nods knowingly as he bites his lip. He taps his fingertips on it as he contemplates. “Want me to fix the back too?”

Namjoon nods, still gripping the t-shirt as he turns around, revealing the thong snug between the soft curves of his ass.

He hears Yoongi’s breath hitch. “I’ll just uh…adjust the garter straps,” Yoongi breathes as if coaching himself, before Namjoon feels fingers graze his thighs.

Yoongi works silently, but Namjoon’s pulse is thumping loudly in his head, dizzy from the rush of his hyung’s hands on him. Those hands—pink and large, fingers knobby and cool against his warm skin. He’s willing his half-chub to go down and spare him an early grave before he notices Yoongi has stopped moving.

The room is silent.

“Hyung? …You okay?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi breathes. “It’s just…this really suits you, Joon-ah. You’re…you’re beautiful,” he says so close to Namjoon’s skin, he can feel the hot puff of air from his lips.

Namjoon’s every nerve is on edge, feeling so overwhelmed that he fails to hold back the soft “ah—” from his throat as he arches backward, just a hair.

Just enough for Yoongi’s lips to graze his skin.

“Mm sorry—”

“No. No, it’s okay, hyung. I…I like it,” his voice shakes.

Namjoon can feel the air practically vibrating between them, can feel Yoongi’s hands tremble as they return to his skin, grazing his knuckles over his broad shoulders and down the muscular curves of his arms. “Do you like to feel pretty, Joon-ah?”

Namjoon feels like the air has been sucked from the room.

“Yes,” Joon hiccups, just a trace of shame in his voice, but it feels so good to say it out loud. Yoongi presses a feather-light kiss to Namjoon's back. He can feel the wet seam of his lips against his skin, pillowy and warm. He feels kisses trailing across his shoulder blades, hands now running delicately over Namjoon's thighs, tracing the garter straps with his fingertips.

“…Do you want to be pretty for me?” Yoongi whispers.

Joon hears a soft whine before he realizes it’s coming from his own lips.

“I’m gonna need you to use words, pretty.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon trembles, choking on his words. “Wanna be pretty for you.”

“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses. Namjoon feels fingers dig into his hips, feels Yoongi’s forehead tip forward against his back.

“Can I look at you, Joon-ah?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon whispers, breathless as he turns around and starts to lower the t-shirt in his hands, the skin of his chest blooming pink. Yoongi takes the shirt from him and gently drops it to the floor.

“Fucking hell—” he groans as he runs his fingers down Namjoon’s collar bones, dragging downward and pressing his large palms to his chest.

He squeezes and massages the soft flesh, watching it swell over the lace. Namjoon’s head tilts back with a sigh and Yoongi leans forward to graze his nose against his neck. Namjoon jolts as the sensation of his hyung’s fingers sneaking beneath the bralette, seeking out his nipples and squeezing gently before groaning into his neck. Namjoon nearly loses his balance, and Yoongi takes a hand and wraps it around him, digging his fingertips into the flesh of his ass and pulling it forward.

“Ah—ah-” Namjoon whines as their hips collide and he feels the tip of his cock exposed, peeking through the lace, rubbing up against the soft cotton of Yoongi’s t-shirt. “Hyung if you keep going like this I’m gonna come—”

Yoongi gets on his toes, pushing forward to press his lips against Joon’s ear. “Want you to come. Want to see you all flushed and pretty for me, get your pretty panties all dirty—”

“Fuck—fucking shit—” Namjoon feels dizzy, losing his balance again and tumbling back onto the bed. Yoongi follows him down, urging him further onto the bed until they hit the pillows.

They stop to catch their breath, Namjoon smiling in embarrassment and covering his face. Yoongi is having none of it—using his nose to nuzzle away Namjoon’s hands and pressing their lips together.

And it’s…so soft.

None of the frantic energy from moments ago. Just dragging their lips together, Namjoon getting lost in the feeling and comparing the softness of Yoongi’s lips against years of fleeting daydreams. His senses are electrified, savoring every detail.

The deep sighs that escape Yoongi’s lips, tickling his ears. The way his lithe body fits against his, the way Yoongi’s long fingers thread through his hair hold him like something precious.

It’s so much more than he imagined.

“My pretty Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi whispers fondly as he comes up for air. He flashes a gummy smile before dipping down and gently kissing down his jawline to his neck. “Let me make you feel good?”

“I’m not gonna last long, hyung—I can’t—”

But Yoongi is already snaking downward, sitting on Namjoon’s thighs. He leans forward and nuzzles the lace wrapped tightly against his cock, a featherlight touch. Joon feels warm breath against his cock and he’s throbbing, peeking further from the lace, twitching at the sensation.

Yoongi works upward and parts his lips in a soft 'O', letting the wet, fleshy part of his mouth linger on the tip before snaking his tongue around the top. Namjoon’s balls draw up tight, “Hyung—I’m gonna—”

Yoongi begins to nuzzle the lace-covered shaft again. “Go ahead pretty,” he groans. “Come for hyung, do it—”

Namjoon snaps, body pulsing in waves, hips jerking, ropes of white shooting upward and pooling on his skin.

Yoongi leans back and watches in awe, slackjawed, lazily milking Namjoon with one hand, sighing gentle encouragements as he palms himself through his shorts with the other.

Namjoon takes a deep breath, returning to earth before looking at Yoongi fondly. He reaches out and pulls him forward by the arms with a slight jerk, leaning upward to kiss him hard.

“Hyung, want you to come on me,” he pants.

“Yeah?”

“C'mon,” Joon works frantically, pushing Yoongi’s shorts down and releasing his cock and god it’s gorgeous. Long and slim and pink and fits perfectly in his hand.

Yoongi's soft thighs trap Joon in. He cries out when Namjoon begins to work his cock, “Close Joon-ah, I’m so close—”

“Want you to come on my tits, hyung,” Namjoon says, delirious, breathing into Yoongi’s mouth, jerking him in long, deliberate strokes, hands wet with his own release.

“Been such a good hyung, made me feel so pretty, don’t you wanna come for me?” he says as he thumbs the tip.

And that’s all it takes, Yoongi’s voice cracks as he spills over the edge, falling forward against Joon's neck and dirtying the delicate lace of Namjoon’s bralette.

And then he laughs.

They’re both laughing, pressing their foreheads together. Giggling from the high of it all.

“You’re pretty good at that, hyung,” Namjoon chuckles.

“Well…the first one’s free. Further garment adjustments may cost you.”

"Ouch," Namjoon scoffs, before leaning forward to press their lips together.

“However, I am a man of business," Yoongi adds. "But for someone as pretty as you, I’ll offer a discount."

“Thank you,” Namjoon playfully bites his lip. “Hmm…maybe next time, we can both be pretty?” Namjoon asks as he raises his brow. "You know, if you want."

Yoongi laughs and covers his face, blushing and nodding bashfully.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay, baby. It's a deal.”

Namjoon lifts a hand to trace his cheek.

He thinks it's the prettiest shade of pink he's ever seen.

♡♡♡♡

twitter | ao3

[mobikosmos]

hi hello ^^ i guess i'm here now too hehe this was my latest post from twitter!

[koobuni]

Rkive - Indigo

[douglass-fir]

Seokjin the traveling salesman, who sells jars of synthetic stars, meets Jungkook the boy, who carries real ones in his eyes.

A tiny post-apocalyptic AU.

Seokjin’s never seen real stars, you see…only heard about them in stories. As a child, he’d spend hours digging through old books, ones left in piles within dusty abandoned libraries. On a good day, he’d find one—a picture of a night sky, and his reaction was always the same. Awe. Wonder. Longing. And for a moment, a bit of healing knowing there was something bigger than himself out there.

So it became his life’s work: mixing chemicals and metals to mimic the night sky. And when he perfected it, Seokjin bottled it in jars and set out in his caravan, visiting cities and selling his magic in a bottle.

It was rewarding for Seokjin, to see the delight of his customers as they walked away with twinkling lights in-hand. Some smiling for the first time in months, maybe years. Seokjin, though, had grown immune to the “wonder” of his faux galaxies. The awe and longing far behind him. But it was a rewarding way to make a living—selling stars, and a steady one to boot. That is, until he reached Han City. “We won’t need your wares here,” an old man hollered at him as he parked somewhere safe. “I’m sorry, what?” “Stars. We don’t need ‘em here.”

Seokjin was accustomed to the occasional heckler, so he waves his hand, dismissing as he yells, “You don’t have to buy them, sir. No one is forcing you…” “No, son. You don’t understand. We don’t need stars. We already have ‘em.”

The old man approaches and points toward a worn billboard in the distance, barely visible through the fog.

View the Stars. 100 won for 5 minutes. Back of the Old Theater

Seokjin is skeptical, prepared for disappointment as he pulls his caravan toward the theater, a dark building marred by crumbling paint. It’s late, but a faint light is seen through the windows. Seokjin makes his way inside the quiet theater and follows the hand-painted signs to a dark room with a small box on the door. Seokjin drops in 100 won, and the door creaks, popping open. He wonders if this is a trap. The room is tiny, confessional-like. Just a single chair with a dim light, facing a red velvet curtain, drawn closed. Seokjin holds his breath and sits down, whipping his head backward as he hears the door click shut behind him. Seokjin gasps as he hears the soft shuffling of the curtain beginning to draw back. What will it be? A painting? Some optical illusion? A forgery? A trap? A boy. It’s a boy. Sitting on a chair like his own, the boy pulls his hood back and smiles, dimples peeking before letting his face relax. And Seokjin sees stars. Real stars. Galaxies and light. Endless oceans that feel like terror, and tiny spaces that feel like home. Awe. Wonder. Longing. “You’ve seen me before, haven’t you,” the boy says. He has. Of course he has. In every story from his grandmother. In every dusty book he’s cherished...Seokjin saw this boy’s eyes. “I have,” Seokjin says, mouth dry. “It’s good to see you again,” the stars reply. ☆ ☆ ☆

twitter | ao3

[douglass-fir]

Jungkook hates that he can't forget.

[18+] It didn’t matter who was fucking him, or how good it was. At the end, there was always a gaping void, taunting him. Something missing where a memory now stood.

That memory was Seokjin—his best friend and the only fuck he’d never forget.

It wasn’t Seokjin's technique that haunted him. Although Jungkook will never forget how his own body gave way for Seokjin's size.

It wasn’t the desperation of it. It wasn’t the ghost of Seokjin’s pillowy lips against his throat. It wasn't the way his knobby fingers grappled at Jungkook's skin.

No. It was the way he cradled Jungkook’s head as he came.

Cradled it. A small but perfectly-timed move that would torment Jungkook during the wee hours of the morning when he couldn’t help but remember.

Their one and only time together.

It was a fluke, really. Rooming together in a foreign hotel. High off the crowd’s energy. So much nervousness left to burn.

So when Jungkook rolled over in the dark and dared to wordlessly kiss Seokjin’s cheek…and then his ear, and then his lips, the dam between them broke all at once.

Their chemistry was inevitable—they could hardly remember a time when they didn’t know each other. Grew up alongside each other. Breathed the same air in the same dorm and often in the same bedroom, in the same bed, for years.

Seokjin was there when Jungkook discovered he liked girls, then…discovered he liked everyone. Knew that Jungkook feared nothing, except disappointing those he loved. Knew he secretly cried in his room sometimes. Knew he was a tender soul in an unstoppable shell.

So it was no surprise to Jungkook, that Seokjin could sense his climax fast approaching before Jungkook said a word—could feel the subtle shift in Jungkook’s muscles as his body tensed beneath him.

Before he could whimper "hyung, ’m close. 'm close—" Seokjin was there, shifting one palm beneath Jungkook’s head, lifting it off the mattress, cradling it as Jungkook began to writhe.

Jungkook can't forget how Seokjin stared down at him in wonder, like everything he knew about Jungkook had unfurled onto the bed beneath him.

“That’s it, oonguah, come for hyung. Shhhh, I've got you. I got you,” he rasped out as he pulled Jungkook's head closer and dipped down to kiss along his jawline.

How was it so easy to walk away from that night? To mutually laugh it off in the morning, chalk it up to pent-up energy, and agree it was probably best to stay “friends”, for the sake of the group?

Maybe they were too scared of the water they were treading in—how deep the well went? How long had they stepped around it without either of them saying a word?

It was a wrinkle in time that became a long crack in the wall of Jungkook's memory. Unignorable no matter what he hung on it.

Healthy relationships. Genuine romances. It made no difference.

At the end, Jungkook would be filled, teetering on the edge of release, with no one to cradle his head as he tipped over the edge.

That ends tonight.

At least, that’s what he hopes.

He pulls out his phone and types, thumbs sweaty and trembling against the screen.

JK: hyung, r u awake? SJ: JKah it’s 2am JK: so yes? SJ: you know me too well. JK: I know.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

twitter | ao3

[asadfangirlbitxh]

Jin: Since I'm leaving. I'm going to leave you all with this bowl of advice. It has many helpful insights

Jin: in any situation that you feel like you should call me. Don't. Instead pick up a paper.

Jungkook: This one says "blame it on Jungkook"

Jin: That applies to everything.

Hoseok: This one says "It's never Jimin's fault. He's an angel"

Jin: Again, this applies to everything

Tae: This one says "Let Yoongi sleep."

Jin and Yoongi nod at each other and smile.

Namjoon: This one says "Call Namjoon instead"

Jin: Seems you're all set. I'll be off.