This is a sideblog to my main blog, @tea4sykes - the purpose of this blog is going to be to keep track of fics I read or want to read, so that I can keep track and find them more easily.
I've found that all too often I end up trying to find a fic that I've reblogged and that has gotten buried within my likes or pictures or memes and I'm hoping that this method will help me be more organized.
That's the plan anyway...let's see how well it works lol
With that being said - enjoy all of what's to come on this blog! I'm sure there will be a lot for you to enjoy from a multitude of incredible creators!!
*Pairing: idol!Jimin x f!hair stylist!reader
*Word Count: 5k
*Posted: may 27, 2026
*Genre: SMUT, tiny bit of fluff, mainly pwp, idol au
*Summary: You always make Jimin feel good about himself when you do his hair for every performance. Tonight, he's extra confident. So, he finally goes for what he wants. And what he wants, is you.
*Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT, MINORS DNI. bit of a power imbalance considering reader's job, tiny bit of alcohol consumption, oral (f. receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex (be smart, ya perverts), jimin likes his hair pulled, jimin = consent king, switch!jimin (you'll see), getting caught (ish?), bit of angst/anxiety at the end, reader's brain is mush, some pet names, jimin calls reader noona (just go with it, it's for the vibes), uhhh yeah
*A/N: welp. braided-hair jimin has had me in a chokehold since i saw him like this with my own eyeballs on saturday night. and it just got me thinking.. maybe he likes his hair pulled. i dunno. here's the product of my brainrot. enjoy it.
Main Masterlist
“Braids.”
Jimin looks at you like you have two heads.
“Why braids, noona?” he asks curiously.
You pull out your hair styling tools and arrange everything on the tabletop in front of him, threading your fingers through his hair as you think about your vision.
“Your hair’s the perfect length for them. We have time. Can you just trust me for now, and if you hate them, I’ll take them out?” you ask.
Jimin huffs out a small laugh, his eyes sparkling as he smiles.
“Alright. Go for it,” he concedes, settling into the chair more comfortably.
With that, you get to work. Your fingers work nimbly, sectioning and crossing strand over strand, tying each braid with small rubber bands as you go.
At the end of twenty minutes, Jimin’s hair is styled into four small french braids across the top and sides of his head, the bottom layers of his hair loose around his shoulders. You tap his shoulder, signaling to him that you’re finished.
“What do you think?” you ask him, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
He turns his head left and right to look at his hair, nibbling on his bottom lip, as if gathering his thoughts before he gives you an answer.
“Damn, okay. When you said ‘braids,’ this isn’t what I thought you meant. I love it, noona,” he says, giving you that signature, eye-crinkling smile.
“Yeah?” you ask, exhaling a breath of relief at his approval.
Jimin nods excitedly. “Yeah.”
You release him from your work station then, cleaning up your hair tools now that your job is done.
During each outfit change of the concert, you check on Jimin’s hair, securing and restyling braids as they come loose, ensuring his hair stays as neat as possible.
He sits perfectly still, always the cooperative client, as you redo a single braid that’s now falling into his face.
“Pretty hyped tonight, huh?” you ask with a soft laugh.
He starts to nod, his head tipping forward, causing him to let out a quiet hiss as he accidentally tugs at the braid in your hand, a sharp sting coursing through his scalp.
“Sorry–”
“Shit–”
You both speak at the same time, your hand instinctively releasing the braid.
“You okay?” you ask him then.
Jimin can’t help but chuckle then.
“All good, noona. Can you fix my hair now?”
You just smile, going back to redoing the braid you were working on.
There’s a minute of silence between you two, the chaos of backstage fading as everyone starts to take their places to go back on stage for the last part of the concert.
“I am hyped tonight,” Jimin says then, answering your question that was so rudely interrupted by you pulling his hair, “I’m really feeling myself tonight.”
You smile at him in the mirror as you finish fixing his hair.
“Good. See you after,” you say with a gentle squeeze to his shoulders, stepping back to let him go.
Jimin stands from your chair, glancing around before he leans in, his breath ghosting your ear.
“I’d rather be feeling you, though,” he murmurs, and he turns to go back on stage without so much as another glance your way.
-
The absolute whirlwind that is backstage post-concert is nothing you aren’t used to. Even as a hair stylist, you, and everyone else, are expected to help with the cleanup to make sure the dressing and styling rooms are left impeccably clean. That is BTS’ reputation, after all: the perfect guests at every stadium or venue they perform at, leaving nothing dirty or disorganized when they leave for the night. It’s something the whole staff has always prided themselves on, ensuring the group maintains their perfect image, ever the respectable idols.
As you pack your things and head toward the staff buses with everyone else, Jimin falls into step beside you at the back of the group.
“Come celebrate with me,” he murmurs quietly.
You glance at him, eyes narrowing slightly.
“Celebrate what?” you ask him.
He shrugs.
“Told you. I’m really feeling myself tonight. Come have a drink with me.”
Your voice lowers, not wanting anyone to hear the conversation.
“Jimin.. you sure that’s a good idea?”
He shrugs again, his hands in his jeans pocket.
“No one has to find out, noona. C’mon, it’s just me. I’ll have some champagne delivered to my room and we can hang there. No pressure.”
You can’t help but sigh slightly then.
“Yeah– okay. But if anyone finds out…”
Jimin holds out his pinky finger then, automatically moving to intertwine his finger with yours.
“They won’t. It’s perfectly safe.”
He falls out of step with you then, disappearing down the long hallway to your right, catching up with the other members while you continue walking toward the staff buses.
-
Back at the hotel, you change out of your staff clothes, then rummage through the casual clothes you brought with you for this leg of the tour. You aren’t sure if Jimin’s actually going to follow through with inviting you to hang out, and you really don’t know how casual to dress if he does.
Your phone vibrates, pulling you out of your thoughts.
Jimin: room 3903.
That’s it? you think, expecting more in his message than just telling you where to go.
Jimin: i’m in sweats. don’t worry about how to dress, noona.
Typical, you think, always knows.
You pull on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, an oversized hoodie over it, and slip on your sneakers. Grabbing your phone and room key, you slip out of your room and move quickly down the hall.
The members and staff have this entire floor booked, the tour having so many people working to keep it flowing flawlessly that you always take up a whole floor in every city you go to. You really hope no one leaves their room while you’re out here, because you don’t have a clue what your excuse would be at this point.
Your eyes track each room as you pass, wandering down the hall until you reach Jimin’s room. Your knuckles tap softly on the door, shifting from one foot to the other as you wait.
“Get inside before someone sees you,” Jimin says with a chuckle as the door opens, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he tugs you into his room.
Inside his room, you can’t help but glance around and let out a small laugh as you take in his massive suite compared to your standard room.
“Damn. Really feeling that tax bracket difference,” you say then.
Jimin rolls his eyes, looking sassy as ever.
“Perks of working our asses off for fifteen years. They gotta keep us happy,” he says sarcastically.
He makes his way over to the kitchen area, popping open a bottle of champagne that probably costs more than your monthly salary, and pours two glasses.
“None of the others wanted to drink with you tonight?” you ask curiously as he hands you a glass.
He shrugs. He seems to be doing that a lot tonight.
“I didn’t ask.”
He sips his champagne, hand waving in front of you to encourage you to do the same.
You take a sip too, the sweet, bubbly taste exploding on your tongue.
That’s when you notice something interesting.
“You didn’t take the braids out,” you point out.
His eyes sparkle with his smile as he walks back toward the sitting area.
“They look good. Made me feel good,” he says, plopping down on the couch.
You follow him, taking a seat on the other end of the couch.
“The fans seemed to love them, too,” you say with a soft chuckle.
Jimin looks at you then, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“Did you?” he asks.
“Hm?”
He sips his champagne again, throat bobbing as he swallows.
“Did you love the braids, noona?” he clarifies.
It’s your turn to shrug then.
“They look good on you. I wouldn’t have done them if I didn’t think they would,” you say.
Jimin shifts on the couch, closing some of the distance between you two. He brings his left leg up on the cushion, sitting more casually.
“You made me feel really confident tonight,” he continues, his Busan satoori coming out a bit with his casual demeanor.
You can’t help but laugh softly.
“That’s what I’m here for. Making sure you feel confident enough to go on stage and be happy with how you look.”
You sip your champagne again before setting the glass down on the coffee table.
Jimin’s gaze follows your movement, his hand moving to set his own glass down.
He swallows, jaw working as he considers his next words.
“You’ve been doing my hair since debut,” he says then, “and you always make sure I’m happy with it before you let me go on stage.”
Your brow furrows in confusion.
“Well, yeah— of course I do. I might be the stylist, but it’s you that has to be okay with how you look.”
He chuckles softly, shaking his head.
“Not all stylists feel that way. Some think it’s their vision, and the idol just has to live with it.”
Jimin shifts a little closer to you on the couch, leaving only a foot of space between you now.
“You actually care,” he continues, “you want to make me feel good.”
You rest your elbow on the back of the couch, turning to face him a bit more.
“I do,” you say simply.
That mischievous glint in Jimin’s eyes shines a little brighter now.
“I want to make you feel good too,” he rasps, his Busan satoori bleeding into every word now.
“Hm?” you ask, confused.
The corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk then.
“You asked me to trust you earlier,” he says, “can you do the same for me now?”
Your body tenses slightly as Jimin closes the remaining distance between you two on the couch, his thigh pressing against yours now.
His arm snakes around your shoulders then, hand coming up to cup the side of your neck. His thumb traces the line of your jaw, making your head turn instinctively toward him.
“Jimin—,” you start then, meeting his gaze.
“Trust me, noona,” he breathes, his face inching toward yours.
He nudges at your jaw then, his breath ghosting your neck as his nose trails slowly along your jawline.
“Can I?” he murmurs, the slight vibration of his voice hitting your neck, “can I make you feel good this time?”
You shiver slightly, the heat of his breath making your skin tingle.
“Jimin— is that a good idea?” you whisper.
He chuckles softly against your neck then, his lips brushing against your skin.
“You’re always so collected, noona. So put together, worried about everything,” he murmurs.
You laugh a bit nervously, unsure what to say.
“Can’t you stop worrying about if something’s a good idea, and just think about how good it would feel to let go?” he continues.
His lips press a barely-there kiss to the spot just below your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin.
“Just trust me,” he repeats.
You pull back, looking at him. You definitely thought he was fucking with you, but the look of pure want in his eyes tells you how wrong you were.
“Okay—,” you say quietly then, “yeah. I trust you.”
You barely get the last word out before Jimin surges forward, claiming your mouth in a desperate, sensual kiss. His hand grips the side of your neck more firmly, holding you in place.
You kiss him back, lips following his lead as he deepens it. It’s all teeth, tongue, and heat, him licking into your mouth like he’s been dying to do it for longer than he’s let on.
Your hand moves to his stomach, fisting into his t-shirt as you keep him close. You feel his free hand wrap around your hip, his fingers gripping right at your waist.
“Taste like the champagne,” he breathes against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip, eliciting a soft catch of your breath.
His hand at your waist tugs you forward, putting you on his lap. He gently positions your thighs so you’re straddling him, his hand sliding to the small of your back then, pressing firmly to slide you closer so your chest presses to his.
“Don’t stop now,” he breathes, looking up at you, “I know you want this as badly as I do.”
Your free arm drapes onto the couch cushion behind him, fingers threading into the back of his hair as you claim his lips this time.
Jimin’s hips buck up against you slightly, a soft hiss following the movement as he kisses you.
The kiss gets more intense, your earlier hesitation fading into confidence. Your tongue meets his, sloppy and inhibited. You pull his lower lip between yours, sucking lightly.
“Ah— shit, noona. Please,” he breathes.
That makes you pause. “Please?” you murmur against his lips, pulling back just a bit to look at him.
He tugs at the hem of your hoodie then, his eyes half-lidded as he nods. “Yeah, please. Wanna see.”
You strip your hoodie and t-shirt off in one motion, tossing it on the floor haphazardly.
Jimin’s eyes darken slightly, taking in your black bra, the tops of your breasts spilling over the edge of the cups. His hand immediately slides up your back to the clasp, stilling there.
“Okay if I take this off?” he asks, eyes searching yours.
“How else are you gonna see?” you ask, a small smirk of your own crossing your lips now.
Jimin flicks his fingers quickly, deftly undoing the clasp and moving both hands to the straps at your shoulders, pulling them down to fully reveal your breasts to him.
A low groan leaves Jimin’s lips then, his hands sliding to your front and stopping at your ribs. His thumbs brush the underside of your breasts, eyes meeting yours again.
“Can I?” he asks, ever the king of consent.
“Yeah,” you breathe out.
His hands cup your breasts, squeezing and massaging them, his thumbs occasionally brushing or circling over the nipple. He shifts forward, his lips pressing to the hollow of your shoulder above your collarbone.
Jimin trails hot, wet kisses along the path of the bone, his tongue darting out to lick at your skin.
“Thirteen years,” he breathes against your collarbone, “thirteen years of being too fucking professional with you to ever want this.”
He sucks the skin lightly, leaving a tiny red mark that’ll fade by morning.
“But not tonight. Tonight— tonight you gave me the confidence to ask for what I want,” he finishes.
Your breath hitches, hips rolling against him as his lips reach the sensitive skin of your throat.
You tug at his t-shirt then, wanting him to be as bare as you.
“Lemme see you now,” you say quietly.
Jimin chuckles, his eyes glinting with that signature sparkle as he pulls his shirt off and tosses it somewhere on the floor.
“God— Jimin, what the fuck?” you ask, a soft scoff leaving your lips.
He gives you that cheeky smile, eyes crinkling at the corners as he shrugs.
“Been in the gym a lot with Yoongi-hyung and Jungkookie,” he says casually, as if there’s nothing impressive about his newly formed, nearly-washboard abs.
“I see this,” you say, rolling your eyes.
He takes one of your hands, dragging it down his chest and abdomen.
“Touch me too, noona,” he whispers then, “want you to want me, too.”
Your hips roll against him again, his words sending a jolt through you.
Jimin groans more audibly then, his hips bucking up to meet yours.
“Fuck,” he exhales, “don’t stop.”
You lean down and capture his lips again, one hand resting at his lower stomach, your thumb brushing along the sensitive skin there while your other hand holds the back of his neck.
He kisses you back, more sensual than before, his tongue dragging against yours as he lets out a soft moan into your mouth.
He squeezes your thigh gently, slowly working his way higher up your leg as he kisses you more. At the top of your thigh, his thumb brushes the inner part, and he breaks the kiss, keeping his mouth close against yours as he speaks.
“Can I touch you more?” he murmurs.
You nod against his lips, sliding your ass further up his lap, causing his thumb to press against your clothed core.
Jimin takes the hint, his thumb pressing firmly and rubbing circles over your clit through your leggings, making you gasp.
His soft, short laugh comes out against your lips.
“Pretty noise, noona. Can you make more for me?” he teases gently, his thumb circling a bit faster.
He moves quickly then, shifting his position, flipping you onto your back on the couch and kneeling between your thighs.
“Need these off,” he says, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your leggings, waiting, as always, for your consent.
Instead of saying anything, you lift your hips. His hands pull at your leggings, dragging them and your panties down your thighs. He gently pulls one foot and then the other out of the material, tossing the rest of your clothes onto the floor.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, his hands resting on the outsides of your thighs as he leans down to press his lips against the inside of your knee, “gonna make you come for me.”
His lips follow a path up your inner thigh then, his mouth wet and hot against your skin, hands parting your thighs as he settles on his belly between them.
His kisses get sloppier, more urgent, more tongue, the higher up he goes, and your breaths come shallower, quicker, as your body responds to the anticipation.
“Jimin— what are you doing?” you whine softly.
He chuckles against your skin, nibbling it gently.
“Teasing. Or showing you what to expect when I get my tongue on your pussy,” he says, “you decide.”
A jolt of desire courses through you at his words. He notices, because, always so attentive with everyone, of course he does.
“You’re thinking about it, huh? About how good it’ll feel to have my tongue between your legs?” he teases.
You whine softly again.
“Fuck— yeah, I’m thinking about it,” you admit.
He chuckles again, his tongue dragging down your inner thigh until he stops, his face hovering just above your core.
“Stop thinking then.”
His eyes meet yours from between your legs, and his tongue drags a long, slow path from your entrance up to your clit, stopping there and tracing firm, target circles around the sensitive bud.
You can’t stop the moan falling from your lips, your hips squirming as his tongue continues its torturous circles.
“The walls aren’t soundproofed, noona,” Jimin chuckles against your pussy, making you clap your palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds.
When he sees your hand covering your mouth, he licks faster, his tongue circling your clit, the pattern only broken when he dips lower, tasting your arousal before returning to that sensitive spot.
You moan into your hand again, pressing harder to make sure the sound doesn’t travel.
He buries his tongue deeper, alternating between fast and slow strokes, experimenting to learn what makes you moan and tremble the most.
You squirm more, his hand coming up to rest over your lower stomach to keep you still. His free hand trails up your thigh, two fingers pressing against your entrance before they slide inside you.
You gasp, the added stimulation only fueling your pleasure.
Jimin huffs a soft laugh against your pussy again, crooking his fingers upwards in search of your sweet spot.
His tongue works tirelessly, never slowing as his fingers work until they press against your g-spot.
You whimper into your palm, thighs shaking as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. You uncover your mouth briefly to whimper quietly.
“Jimin— fuck, there. So close.”
He speeds up his licks, tongue lapping at your clit in tandem with his fingers thrusting directly into your g-spot.
You feel your climax build rapidly, clamping your hand down over your mouth again just as the coil in your lower stomach snaps.
You moan out into your palm, wave after wave of pleasure ripping through you. Jimin doesn’t stop, simply slowing his movements to push you through your orgasm.
He only lets up when you wince quietly from oversensitivity, pulling his mouth off your pussy and slipping his fingers out of you gently. He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean of your juices before wiping his mouth on his upper arm.
“Good?” he chuckles quietly, meeting your eyes.
Your breathing is still too unsteady to speak, so you just lift your hand to give him a thumbs up and a weak smile. He sits up then, never looking away from you.
His eyes sparkle as he smiles back at you, holding his hand out to help you sit up too.
“You’re cute when you’re fucked out like this,” he comments, making you glare at him. But there’s no heat in your gaze, your eyes dropping to the obvious erection tenting his sweatpants.
Your breathing finally settles enough to talk without pausing between words.
“Off,” you say simply, your hand pulling at the fabric of his pants.
Jimin looks at you one more time for confirmation before sliding his sweatpants and boxers off, settling back on the couch in the same spot you started.
Without hesitation, you climb back into his lap, straddling him. Your wetness brushes his cock as you settle, a sharp hiss escaping his lips.
“You’re sure?” he breathes, “because I really wanna fuck you.. but don’t feel like you owe me for what I just did.”
You roll your hips on his lap, grinding your still-dripping pussy against him in response.
“I’m sure,” you whisper, “wanna ride you.”
He groans, the sound low in his throat as you position yourself with his cock pressed to your tight hole.
“Then— fuck, then please, do it,” he murmurs, voice cracking slightly.
You sink down onto his cock then, walls stretching around him to accommodate his size. He’s thick, making the movement slower than you would’ve liked, but after a moment, you settle on his thighs, his cock buried completely inside you.
“Shit—,” he hisses through his teeth, hips instinctively bucking up, his cock hitting deeper with the movement.
You gasp, the pressure against your g-spot intense as his cock hits it just right from this angle.
Jimin’s hands settle on your hips, thumbs gently stroking your skin as he looks up at you.
“Move for me, baby,” he breathes, his hands pressing upwards to lift you.
Your arms wrap around his neck, lips meeting his in a heated kiss as you lift yourself, grinding down on his cock, forcing a low moan from his throat.
He kisses you back, the kiss slow and lazy as his hands work to help guide your rhythm. Your breasts press against his chest, hips rolling as you repeatedly bounce on him.
The room fills with the slick sound of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, his low moans and your quiet whimpers.
“That’s it,” he breathes, “fuck— pull my hair, noona.”
Your rhythm breaks slightly as you process his request.
“Please—,” he continues, “not hard. Just— tug it. Like you did when you were doing my hair earlier. When I moved and you accidentally pulled it. Felt good.”
You kiss him again, regaining your bearings, and ride him more deliberately then. Your hand slides into the back of his hair, fingers threading into it at his scalp, and tug lightly.
The sound that escapes his lips can only be described as a desperate whimper, quiet and needy.
“Shit— yes. Please, more,” he breathes.
You break the kiss, tugging his hair a little more firmly to tip his head back, your lips pressing to his throat. He groans at the sensation of your mouth on his skin and the pulling of his hair, his hips bucking up to meet your every move.
His fingers press into your hips, leaving indentations on your skin, soft grunts and deep, low moans punctuating every thrust up into your pussy.
“Noona— gonna come. Where—,” he starts, his question cut off when you suck lightly at the base of his throat, your fingers tightening in his hair.
The sting of the harder tug pulls another needy whimper from him, his hips thrusting up hard.
“In me,” you breathe against his throat.
He groans deeply, his hips thrusting up once, twice, three more times before they still, stuttering against you as he spills inside you.
“Fuck,” he moans, “you— fuck.”
You slow your hips, rolling them slowly to draw out every drop of his release, continuing until his hands pull you down to stop you from moving anymore.
The room is quiet now save for panting breaths from both of you. Jimin’s arms wrap around your waist then, his eyes opening to meet yours. His thumbs brush the skin of your lower back, not saying anything at first.
After a few slightly awkward moments, he finally speaks.
“Well— that was.. that was fucking incredible,” he chuckles nervously.
You chuckle too then, nodding. “It was.”
He lets out a slow breath, the awkwardness fading as you both realize things are still okay between you two.
“I really don’t wanna kick you out,” he says quietly then, “but— we’re already pushing it with you even being here.”
You shake your head slightly then, a small smile crossing your face.
“I know. I’ll go,” you say, understanding.
Jimin leans forward then, pressing a few quick, tender kisses to your lips, his lips curving upward in a smile of his own.
“Not mad at me?” he asks.
You shake your head again.
“No. Not mad. I’ll be— so fucking fired if anyone ever finds out about this,” you respond.
His smile fades slightly, but it’s not in sadness, just gentle understanding.
“You won’t be. I’d take the blame, have them cover it up. I told you, it’s perfectly safe. You’re perfectly safe with me,” he says quietly.
You nod, pressing a kiss of your own to his lips before you finally pull yourself off his lap.
The two of you dress quickly, and Jimin stands, facing you. His hand reaches up to smooth over your hair, making sure it doesn’t look too messy before you go in case you’re seen.
You take one last look at each before you finally step away.
At the door, you turn back and give him a small smirk.
“Next time you’re feeling yourself again…” you trail off.
Jimin’s eyebrow raises, curious.
“Come feel me instead.”
Jimin can’t help but laugh at your words, giving you that characteristic eye-crinkling smile.
“Yeah,” he says, “I will, noona.”
With that, you slip out of his room, making your way back down the hallway toward your own room.
Just as you’re about to open your own door, you hear a clearing of someone’s throat from behind you.
You freeze, heart rate picking up as you turn slowly to face the owner of the sound.
Looking up, you’re met with the man who made the sound, instantly knowing he definitely either saw you leaving Jimin’s room, or worse, heard you from inside.
“Namjoon,” you say quietly, “it’s not—.”
“The walls aren’t soundproofed, noona,” he cuts you off, “be more careful next time, unless you want the whole floor to hear you,” he says simply.
You let out an anxious breath, nodding slowly.
“I won’t say anything. But I can’t say the same for the rest of the staff,” he continues.
You fidget with your room key, still anxious under Namjoon’s gaze.
“Go to bed before someone else finds you out here,” he finishes, giving you a small, dimpled smile before he disappears into his own room.
You turn back quickly, unlocking your door and rushing inside. You press your back against the door, exhaling shakily.
Fuck.
Namjoon knows you just slept with Jimin. You trust him to keep his word and not tell anyone, but if he heard you.. who else did?
Not even five minutes later, your phone buzzes.
Jimin: told you, noona. you’re safe with me.
You breathe a sigh of relief, but it’s tinged with residual anxiety, knowing Namjoon probably talked to Jimin too, based on his text.
Jimin: just gotta be more quiet next time.
Jimin: hope there is a next time.
You smile softly to yourself, reading his messages as they come through.
You: there will be.
You put your phone away, getting ready for bed. The anxiety fades eventually. You curl into your sheets, staring at the dark ceiling above you as you get lost in your own thoughts.
You just slept with Jimin. An idol who, all things considered, could be labeled as completely untouchable. Shouldn’t be accessible, especially not to you. The one who’s been with him since the group’s debut, traveling the world, at every performance and event, simply styling his hair. Making sure he looked good, felt good. And it shouldn’t have happened at all, but it did.
You keep replaying the night in your head. How he touched you, the way he asked over and over for your consent. The way it seemed like you’d done this a thousand times before, when neither of you have ever even attempted to cross that line. None of it makes sense. Shouldn’t it have been a little awkward? Shouldn’t there have been more fumbling, more learning each other? Shouldn’t there have been a little more hesitation?
You shake your head, hoping to clear your mind. What’s done is done, and you can’t take it back now that it’s happened. You start to drift off to sleep, your brain slowly shutting off for the night.
But there’s one specific thought that you can’t seem to shake from your mind.
The thought makes your brain buzz, your mind replaying his request, every sound that fell from his lips as he responded to you.
for months, your relationship survived through hidden schedules, secrecy, and closed doors; until an unknown number begins sending texts that know far too much. private moments stop feeling private, paranoia turns into fear and when the messages become something darker, one terrifying truth becomes impossible to ignore: someone is watching.
→ pairing: bts!jimin x fem!reader
→ word count: 6.7k
→ tags: jimin x reader, park jimin fic, bts fanfic, psychological thriller, stalker au, secret relationship au, idol au, protective jimin, dark fic, paranoia, unknown number, suspense fic, jimin imagine, seen fic, park jimin x reader, bts x reader, anonymous texts, mystery fic, slow burn thriller, stalking tw, hidden relationship, celebrity relationship au, reader insert, tw stalking, tw harassment, tw paranoia, tw threats, dark themes, chapter one, seen chapter one, smut, sex, quickie, kissing, making out, creampie, intense, body worship, love making, etc
→ a/n: I hopeee you enjoy reading this im excited to post thisss <3 I will try to release the second chapter soon!
your thumb hovered over the screen. was this a wrong number? spam? a prank even? you clicked the contact info again. no saved name, no profile picture. just an unfamiliar number.
before you could think too hard about it, your phone buzzed again.
unknown number:
you should really be more careful about who sees you
your brows furrowed.
you:
who is this?
the typing bubble appeared almost instantly, then disappeared. a strange irritation mixed with unease settled into your stomach. finally,
unknown number:
i know more than you think
you scoffed under your breath, locking your phone. okay weirdo. people had too much time on their hands. still, the message sat wrong with you. your eyes flickered toward the darkened window across the room. the city lights reflected against the glass, turning it into more of a mirror than a view outside. your own reflection stared back.
nothing unusual.
you shook the feeling off and headed toward the kitchen, grabbing the water bottle you'd abandoned hours ago.
buzz.
your stomach dropped before you even looked. that was stupid, it was just a text. you unlocked your phone.
unknown number:
don’t ignore me. it’s rude.
a pause; another message.
unknown number:
especially after he just left.
your hand froze and the apartment suddenly felt too quiet, too still. without thinking, you moved toward the window, fingers trembling slightly as you pulled the curtain aside. the street below looked normal. cars, street lights, locals walking, nothing...out of place. but your chest tightened anyway, because jimin had just left, less than twenty minutes ago, and nobody was supposed to know he’d been here. you typed fast this time.
you:
who the hell is this?!
the response came immediately.
unknown number:
panic looks good on you
this was stupid. you tossed your phone onto the couch and rubbed your temples. it must be some troll who somehow got your information. right?
still, you softly walked to your front door and checked the lock.
stupid.
you knew it was stupid. you knew whoever this was was probably getting exactly what they wanted out of you, but your feet moved anyway. crossing the apartment faster than you meant to, you reached for the window handle.
locked too. still, you checked twice. the city stretched beneath you, twenty floors down. impossible for anyone to actually get up here. you let the curtain fall shut harder than necessary. you picked up your phone and sighed.
another buzz. you nearly dropped your phone.
unknown number:
good
the color drained from your face and your eyes snapped toward the window again. slowly, carefully, you stepped back.
absolutely not, there was no way, they couldn’t actually see you. your gaze flickered across the apartment, suddenly hyperaware of every shadow, every dark corner, every tiny sound the building made. the television reflected faintly against the blank screen in the living room, the hallway to your bedroom looked darker than usual. you hated that your pulse had started racing.
you:
what do you want?
three dots appeared immediately. you stared hard enough at the screen to make your eyes hurt.
unknown number:
for you to stop being careless.
you:
you’re creepy, goodbye.
a response came so quickly it almost felt rehearsed.
unknown number:
you let him leave through the front entrance
your stomach twisted.
no.
no, no. that wasn’t public. nobody knew jimin came here, nobody. the relationship had stayed hidden for months, painfully hidden in fact. private entrances, disguised schedules, strict staff, NDAS and barely any public outings, even friends knew almost nothing.
so how.. your mind immediately jumped somewhere ugly.
staff. someone from the company? paparazzi? but if it was paparazzi, why not sell the story? why text you?
buzz.
unknown number:
thinking too hard.
you stopped breathing for a second, then another message.
your heartbeat thudded painfully against your ribs.
you:
what are you talking about?
seen, but no response. the silence somehow felt worse. you swallowed hard and opened your contacts.
jimin ❤️
your thumb hovered over the call button. you should tell him, obviously, you should tell him. except, what if it was nothing? what if this was some bored creep fishing for a reaction? jimin already had enough to deal with. rehearsals, schedules and constant scrutiny. the last thing he needed was you spiraling over weird texts that might turn out to be some pathetic prank.
still… your eyes drifted toward the window.
good.
your stomach sank. you walked to the kitchen for water again, mostly to give yourself something normal to do, something grounding.
but halfway there;
buzz.
you looked immediately and regretted it instantly, because this time there was an image attached. your fingers suddenly felt numb as it loaded.
timestamped twenty three minutes ago. and there, unmistakably, jimin. head lowered, hands shoved in his pockets as he left your building. standing just a few feet behind him; you.
a message followed.
unknown number:
you should really stop pretending this is private.
the next morning came too quickly. sleep had barely found you.
every creak in the apartment had sounded deliberate. every passing car downstairs had made your chest tighten. at some point around four in the morning, exhaustion won over paranoia, though not by much.
the messages had stopped, which somehow made it worse. you checked your phone the second your eyes opened. nothing.
no missed calls, no new texts. just silence. the unknown number sat at the top of your messages like something waiting. watching even. you almost blocked them three separate times while getting ready, but stopped yourself every time.
what if they texted again? what if they got angry if you blocked them?
what if.. you hated that you were already changing your behavior because of some stranger. by late morning, you found yourself sitting in the backseat of a car heading toward the hybe building. normally, seeing jimin during practice relaxed you. it was routine and familiar.
safe.
today, your knee bounced the entire ride. you checked the side mirrors too often, looked over your shoulder when people passed too close and kept glancing at your phone even though there was still nothing. the silence felt intentional now, like they knew it would drive you mad.
the moment you stepped inside the building, the familiar buzz of staff moving through hallways should’ve eased something in you. instead, it only made you more aware.
more people, more eyes. you caught yourself studying their faces.
security staff.
stylists.
employees walking past.
wondering; did you know? was it someone here?
“you okay?”
you nearly jumped out of your skin. jimin stood beside you, concern flickering across his face. his practice clothes hung loosely against him, hair slightly damp already despite barely starting. “yeah,” you answered too fast. his brows pulled together. “you sure?”
“just didn’t sleep much.” it wasn’t technically a lie. he didn’t look fully convinced, but practice was already starting again before he could push. “stay?” he asked quietly, his fingers lingering towards yours softly but not fully giving in to holding your hand.
you nodded. “yeah.” the smile he gave you usually made things lighter, but today, it only came with guilt because you almost told him, almost reached for your phone and showed him everything, but the image of last night resurfaced immediately.
the photo.
the texts.
''you should really stop pretending this is private.''
his career flashed through your mind. the headlines, speculations, panic, nonstop stress. he already carried enough weight on his shoulders, you at least could handle this by yourself.
probably.
during a short break, you found bts’ manager near the hallway outside the practice room. she noticed your expression almost instantly “everything okay?” the concern in her voice made something loosen in your chest.
you hesitated. then quietly, “can i ask you something?” ten minutes later, you sat across from her in one of the empty offices, phone in hand.
you explained everything; the texts, the photo, the comments about jimin leaving. you skipped over how badly it had actually scared you but she noticed anyway. her expression shifted from confusion to concern halfway through. “okay,” she said carefully, holding a hand out. “let me see the number.” you handed over your phone. she read through the messages silently. her mouth tightened slightly at the photo.
“first,” she said, calmer than you expected, “don’t panic.” easy for her to say. “people send weird things all the time,” she continued. “especially when idols are involved. sasaengs, trolls, people fishing for reactions.”
“but they knew...”
“i know,” she interrupted gently. “and i’m not saying ignore it.” she handed the phone back. “send me the number. i’ll have security look into it and see where it’s pinging from.” you blinked. “really?”
“of course.” she offered a reassuring smile. “that’s what they’re there for. we not only want to protect jimin, but you as well.” you exhaled slowly, realizing you’d been holding tension in your shoulders for hours. “for now,” she added, “try not to think too much into it, okay? don’t answer if they text again. let us handle it.”
some of the tightness in your chest eased. people who actually dealt with things like this were here to save the day. maybe it really was just some obsessive fan. maybe by tomorrow, they’d have answers.
by evening, jimin was finally done. the ride back to his place felt quieter than usual. your leg bounced absentmindedly in the passenger seat and you checked the rearview mirror twice. then again.
“hey.” his voice pulled you out of it. you looked over, but he was already watching you. “you’ve been acting weird lately.”
your stomach sank. “weird?” he nodded once, expression softening. “quiet.” a pause. “jumpy.” you forced a small laugh. “i told you. i didn’t sleep.”
“that all?” his voice lowered, like he already knew there was more.
for a second, you almost told him again, almost said someone’s been watching us, almost handed over the phone. but then you imagined the immediate fallout.
you looked out the window instead. “just stressed,” you said quietly. silence, then his hand reached over, resting lightly against your knee.
warm and steady. “you know you can tell me things, right?” guilt settled heavy in your chest. “i know.” outside, the city blurred past the window. your phone stayed silent in your pocket.
for the first time all day, that scared you more than the texts.
by the time you got to jimin’s place, the sky outside had turned dark. the familiar warmth of his apartment usually settled your nerves the second you stepped inside. tonight, it only softened the edges, barely.
dinner had been quiet. not awkward, never awkward, but quieter than usual. he talked about practice, a mistake one of the members kept making during choreography that had everyone laughing and something namjoon said earlier that sent half the room into chaos.
normally, you’d tease him, laugh, lean into the easy comfort of it all. instead, you caught yourself checking the reflection in the kitchen window, your phone, the hallway. but still nothing. no texts or calls, just waiting.
after dinner, you showered mostly because jimin gently insisted. “you look exhausted,” he’d said, brushing damp hair away from your face. “how about a hot shower?” you’d rolled your eyes, but listened anyway.
now, freshly changed into one of his hoodies, you sat curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over your legs. the television played something neither of you were really watching during dinner.
your phone sat face down on the coffee table. still, silent.
your gaze drifted toward the large windows overlooking the city. too dark to see much outside except mostly reflections. you hated reflections tonight. movement suddenly shifted behind you.
before you could process it, warm hands brushed lightly against your shoulders. you jumped so hard your breath caught. a sharp sound escaped you. jimin immediately pulled back.
“hey...” your chest heaved once. his expression changed instantly. “you seriously scared me,” you muttered too quickly. his brows pulled together, because that reaction had been too much, way too much. he stood there for a second before slowly walking around the couch, then sat beside you, close enough that your knees touched.
“okay.” his voice was calm. “what’s going on?”
you looked away. “nothing.”
“don’t do that. you’ve been weird all day.” your stomach tightened. “i’m just tired.” “you almost jumped out of your skin because i touched your shoulder.” silence.
the tv kept playing in the background, something meaningless neither of you paid attention to. jimin leaned back slightly, studying your face. “did something happen?” his voice softened. “did someone say something to you?”
you shook your head too quickly. “then what is it?” because he looked genuinely worried now. “you’ve barely slept. you keep checking over your shoulder. you’ve looked terrified every five minutes since this morning.” your throat tightened. you hated this.
hated that he noticed, hated that he cared enough to notice. “i just…” you stopped. because what were you supposed to say?
hey, someone’s stalking us and knows about our relationship?
your chest tightened again. “nothing,” you said quietly. “seriously.”
he exhaled through his nose and looked away for a second, then back at you. “you know what’s frustrating?” your eyes lifted. “when i can tell something’s wrong and you won’t let me help.” the guilt hit immediately. “jimin..”
“i care about you.” the words came softer now. “a lot.” his hand moved absently over yours where it rested against the blanket. “so yeah,” he continued quietly, “when you’re sitting here looking like something’s eating you alive and pretending everything’s fine…” he shook his head once. “i’m gonna worry.”
your chest hurt a little at that because you knew he meant it. you looked down at your intertwined hands. “i just didn’t wanna stress you out.” he frowned slightly. “you really think i’d rather watch you struggle by yourself?” silence stretched. “i’m serious,” he said quietly. “whatever it is.” his thumb brushed gently against your hand.
“you don’t have to carry things alone.” your eyes burned unexpectedly. “come here.” before you could protest, he gently pulled you against him. for the first time all day, your shoulders loosened slightly. his chin rested lightly against the top of your head.
“you scare me when you shut me out,” he admitted quietly.
“sorry.”
“don’t apologize.” he tilted your chin up just enough to look at you. “just trust me a little more.” the softness in his expression made something ache. your gaze flickered to his lips for half a second before looking away. apparently not fast enough because his mouth twitched slightly.
“there you are,” he murmured. “what?”
“you stopped looking terrified for five seconds.” you huffed out a quiet laugh. his hand lingered lightly against your cheek. “missed this today,” he said softly. you didn’t realize how close he’d gotten until your breath caught slightly. “missed you.” something in your chest melted a little.
you leaned forward before thinking too hard about it and his lips met yours easily. his hand slipped gently to the back of your neck, keeping you close as the kiss deepened slightly. the familiar comfort of being close enough to hear his quiet laugh when you finally relaxed against him.
“there,” he murmured softly against your forehead. “that’s better.”
his hands didn't leave you. one remained a warm, steady weight at the nape of your neck, fingers carding through the still damp strands of your hair, while the other traced a slow, deliberate path down your spine.
the path was familiar, a map he’d memorized, but tonight it felt different. each pass of his palm sent a shiver that had nothing to do with cold and everything to do with the slow, deliberate way he was erasing the fear that had clung to you all day.
you shifted, turning more fully into him on the couch, your knees bumping his. the blanket pooled around your waists, a forgotten tangle of fleece. his hoodie, his scent, the solid warmth of him, it was a fortress.
the silent phone on the table was just an object. here, there was only the soft light from the television flickering across his face and the intensity in his eyes as he pulled back just enough to look at you.
"jimin," you breathed, the name a quiet surrender. it was an apology and an invitation all at once.
he understood, he always did. his gaze dropped to your mouth, and the kiss that followed was nothing like the first one. the first had been a comfort, a reassurance. it was deeper, slower, his lips parting yours with a gentle insistence that stole the air from your lungs.
his tongue swept against yours, and the last of the tension in your shoulders finally, completely, gave way. you melted into him, your hands sliding up his chest to curl into the soft cotton of his shirt, holding on as if he were the only solid thing in a world that had felt unsteady all day.
he made a low sound in his throat, a hum of approval that vibrated through you. his hands grew bolder. the one on your back slipped lower, pressing you against him until there was no space left between your bodies. you could feel the hard lines of his chest, the steady beat of his heart against your own frantic rhythm. his other hand slid from your neck down your shoulder, his thumb hooking into the collar of the hoodie you wore; his hoodie.
he broke the kiss, his lips hovering just over yours, his breathing as ragged as your own. "this," he murmured, his voice a low, husky whisper that sent a jolt straight to your core. "is what i wanted all day." his fingers tightened on the collar, tugging it gently to the side, exposing the sensitive skin of your shoulder. his mouth followed the path, hot and open, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "not the quiet dinner, not the tv." another kiss, higher, on the side of your neck. "this; just you."
your head fell back, a soft sigh escaping you as his teeth scraped lightly against your pulse point. your hips shifted instinctively, seeking friction, and you felt him, hard and ready, pressing against you through the layers of clothing. the realization sent a fresh wave of heat through you, a liquid warmth that pooled low in your belly.
"jimin," you said again, his name a plea this time.
he responded by lifting you, his hands gripping your waist as he effortlessly maneuvered you until you were straddling his lap. the new position was intoxicating. you were taller than him now, looking down into his dark, hungry eyes.
his hands roamed freely now, sliding from your waist up your sides, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through the soft fabric of the hoodie. you arched into his touch.
his hands found the hem of the hoodie and paused, his eyes searching yours. you answered by raising your arms, granting him permission. he peeled the fabric away from your body, his knuckles brushing against your skin. the cool air of the apartment hit your bare skin, raising goosebumps, but it was nothing compared to the heat in his gaze as he looked at you.
"so beautiful," he breathed, the words raw and honest. he leaned forward, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples until they pebbled up. you gasped, your hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself. he took one into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the peak before he sucked, gently at first, then harder. a sharp, pleasure pain shot through you, and you cried out, your fingers digging into his shoulders.
he lavished the same attention on the other side, his hands never still, mapping your body, relearning every curve as if it were the first time. his touch was both worship and possession, and you were lost in it, in him.
the world outside this couch, this apartment, and the fear of those texts had ceased to exist. there was only the wet heat of his mouth, the sure pressure of his hands, the growing ache between your legs.
you needed more.
your own hands began their own exploration, sliding down his chest to the hem of his shirt. you tugged it upward, and he broke away just long enough to pull it over his head, tossing it aside to join your hoodie on the floor. the sight of his bare chest, toned and smooth, made your mouth water.
you leaned down, pressing open mouthed kisses along his shoulder, tasting the salt of his skin. he shivered, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you down harder against his erection.
the friction was intense, a delicious tease that wasn't nearly enough. "jimin, please," you begged, rocking against him. "use your words," he demanded, his voice thick with desire, his eyes dark with a primal need that made your stomach clench. "you," you gasped. "all of you, please."
that was all the words he needed. with a strength that still took your breath away, he stood, lifting you with him. your legs wrapped instinctively around his waist as he carried you from the living room, his lips never leaving yours. he navigated the short hallway to his bedroom with practiced ease, kicking the door shut behind him.
the room was dark, except for the sliver of city light filtering through the blinds. he laid you down on his bed, the cool sheets a shock against your overheated skin. he followed you down, settling over you, his weight like a protective blanket.
his hands went to the button of your jeans, his fingers deftly undoing it before sliding the zipper down. he hooked his fingers into the waistband and tugged, pulling the shorts and your underwear down your legs in one smooth motion until you were completely bare before him.
he stood for a moment, just looking at you, his chest rising and falling with his harsh breaths. the raw hunger in his eyes made you feel powerful and wanted. he quickly shed his own pants and boxers, and then he was back over you, his body a perfect, heavy blanket of warm skin and muscle.
he kissed you again, deep and slow, as one hand slid down your body, his fingers tracing a path through your wet folds. you moaned into his mouth, your hips lifting off the bed, silently begging for more. he found your clit, circling it with a feather light touch that was almost torture. you whimpered, trying to force his hand to give you the pressure you craved, but he was in control.
"look at me," he commanded softly, and you forced your eyes open to meet his. "i've got you, i'm right here." and as he said the words, he slid one long finger inside you, then another, his thumb finally pressing down on your clit in a firm, circular rhythm.
the dual sensation was overwhelming. your back arched, a whimper tearing from your throat as pleasure, sharp and blinding, shot through you. he set a steady pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you, his thumb working its magic, building the tension higher and higher until you were quivering.
"that's it," he coaxed, his voice a low growl against your ear. "let go. let me feel you."
the tumble of pleasure in your belly snapped, and you came with a sharp cry, your body convulsing around his now wet fingers as waves of ecstasy washed over you. he didn't stop, drawing out your orgasm until you were completely drained.
only then did he withdraw his fingers, positioning himself between your legs. he looked down at you. he lined himself up with your entrance, pausing for a heartbeat, his eyes locked on yours. and then, with one slow, deep thrust, he was inside you.
the feeling was everything you needed. the fullness, the stretch, the intimate connection; it was everything. he began to move, his pace unhurried, his strokes long and deep. you wrapped your legs around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust, your bodies moving together in a rhythm as old as time.
the kiss was messy, desperate, a clash of tongues and teeth. his hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, tangled in your hair, holding you close. the sounds of your lovemaking filled the quiet room, the slap of skin against skin, your soft cries, his low grunts of pleasure. it was raw and primal and utterly perfect.
you could feel another orgasm building, this one deeper, more intense. "jimin," you gasped, your nails raking down his back. "i'm close."
"cum with me," he growled, his pace quickening and his words were a lit match to gasoline. the rhythm he'd so carefully maintained shattered into something wilder, more desperate. his hips snapped against yours, each thrust harder, deeper, driving the breath from your lungs in ragged pants.
"jimin, jimin, jimin," you chanted his name like a prayer, your voice breaking on a sob of pleasure. your nails dug into the smooth skin of his back, leaving crescent moons as you tried to anchor yourself against the tidal wave of sensation.
he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hot, damp breath fanning across your skin. you could feel the tension in every line of his body, the corded muscles in his arms and back straining with the effort of holding back, of waiting for you. "look at me," he commanded again, his voice a raw, guttural sound against your ear. "i want to see you."
it took every ounce of strength you had, but you forced your heavy eyelids open. his face was above yours, his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips parted, his eyes dark and burning with an intensity that seared you to your soul.
in that moment, you saw everything. the worry from earlier, the relief of having you back in his arms, the overwhelming love, and the raw, primal need that was consuming him both.
the world splintered. a white hot flash of pleasure erupted from your core, radiating outwards in a blinding wave that stole your sight and your breath. your entire body convulsed, a powerful, shuddering orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you trembling and crying out his name.
your inner walls clenched around him, a rhythmic, pulsing grip that pulled a deep, guttural groan from his chest.
"that's it, baby, that's it," he praised, his voice strained as he rode out your climax. he thrust into you once, twice more, his control finally snapping. with a hoarse cry of your name, he buried himself deep inside you, his body stiffening as he found his own release.
you felt the hot pulse of his climax as he poured himself into you, a final, intimate connection that left you both breathless.
for a long moment, the only sound in the room was your combined, ragged breathing, the frantic thrum of your heartbeats gradually slowing into a more practiced rhythm.
he collapsed against you, his full weight pressing you into the mattress, but you didn't mind. you welcomed it, wrapped your arms tighter around him, and held on.
he stayed inside you as he softened, neither of you willing to break the connection just yet. you pressed soft, open mouthed kisses to his shoulder, tasting the salt of his sweat, feeling the fine tremors that still ran through his body.
he shifted slightly, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at you, his hair a sweaty, disheveled mess falling into his eyes. he'd never looked more beautiful.
"hi," he whispered, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across his lips. a watery laugh escaped you. "hi yourself." he gently brushed a stray strand of hair away from your forehead, his touch infinitely tender. "you okay now?"
you nodded, your throat too tight to speak. the fear, the anxiety, the suffocating weight of the secret you'd been carrying; it was all gone.
he seemed to understand. he leaned down and kissed you, a soft, gentle kiss that was a stark contrast to the frantic passion from moments before. it was a kiss of comfort, of reassurance, of 'i've got you.'
as you marinated in the silence, jimin's warm body still pressed against you, a gentle buzz came from the living room. ''it's my phone'' you said, poking Jimin's face as you sat up. ''let me go grab it.''
jimin whined, holding onto your wrist. ''really, during aftercare? all men are the same.'' jimin said with a playful chuckle. ''it'll take two seconds.'' you reassured him, quickly making your way to the living room.
the apartment felt strangely quiet again the second you stepped away from him, too quiet. the warmth from moments ago still lingered against your skin, grounding you enough that, for the first time all day you almost felt normal.
almost.
your phone buzzed again against the coffee table before you could reach it. your stomach tightened. fuck.
something cold settled low in your chest because nobody really texted you this late, not anymore. not after everyone knew you were usually with jimin. you picked up the phone and your breath stopped.
three new messages.
the room suddenly felt smaller.
unknown number:
finally.
your fingers went numb as another message loaded.
unknown number:
you look much better when you stop worrying.
your stomach dropped so hard it almost hurt.
no, no.
your eyes drifted toward the dark windows stretching across the living room.
another buzz.
you physically flinched.
unknown number:
he’s good at calming you down.
your heartbeat turned uneven as you stared at the screen, then at the window, then back. a sick feeling crawled up your spine because there was only one explanation for that; they knew what happened after you got home, they knew you’d been paranoid.
they knew...
your chest tightened painfully. you looked toward the hallway leading back to jimin’s room. say something, tell him. now.
buzz.
unknown number:
don’t.
you froze. another message appeared immediately.
unknown number:
i liked your evening better when it was just the two of you.
your mouth went dry. then, another text.
unknown number:
go back to him. act normal.
footsteps sounded faintly from down the hall. “baby?” jimin’s voice. “you getting kidnapped by your phone out there?” your hand trembled slightly around it.
you looked down.
unknown number:
smile before you walk back in.
you swallowed hard, because somehow that felt less like a suggestion and more like proof they could see you.
the next morning felt heavier, like something had shifted overnight once again. you barely slept, of course. every time your eyes closed, your mind replayed the messages.
you look much better when you stop worrying.
go back to him. act normal.
and even worse;
smile before you walk back in.
because they’d known, not guessed. known.
which meant one thing you still couldn’t make yourself fully accept; they were close, very close. you caught yourself checking windows before leaving jimin’s apartment. the parking garage, the mirrors in the elevator, faces lingering too long, phones pointed in your direction.
nothing looked wrong and yet everything looked wrong.
jimin noticed, of course. he always did. “you sure you’re okay?” he asked quietly during the drive. you forced a nod. “just tired again.” his expression said he didn’t buy it.
but practice started early, and neither of you had the energy for another conversation that danced around what you refused to tell him. by the time you reached the hybe building, your nerves sat painfully close to the surface. you settled into your usual spot watching practice.
music echoed through the room and the members joked between runs. jimin caught your eye once, offering a small smile that normally settled something in you. today, your phone stayed clenched in your hand.
silent.
about an hour in, the door opened and bts’ manager stepped inside. her expression immediately made your stomach drop. this was going to be serious, not the calm reassurance from yesterday.
she glanced toward you. “can i talk to you for a minute?” something cold settled in the center of your chest.
you stood immediately. the walk to her office felt too quiet. once the door shut behind you, she didn’t sit right away, which somehow made things worse. she placed a folder on her desk and crossed her arms then sighed. “okay,” she said carefully. “i’m not gonna sugarcoat this.”
your pulse picked up. “we looked into the number.”
an excruciatingly tense pause passed by slowly.
“it’s fake.” your stomach dropped. “fake?”
she nodded once. “burner routing and some sort of masked signal. whoever’s doing this knows how to cover their tracks.” the room suddenly felt too warm. “so you couldn’t find anything?”
“not yet.” not yet, not can’t. but still, her expression stayed tight. “this doesn’t look like random fan behavior anymore.” the words landed hard. “especially because of the timing,” she continued. “the photo, the details.”
you thought of last night instantly.
smile before you walk back in.
your throat tightened and the manager noticed immediately. “what?'' you looked away and hesitated. then quietly; “they texted again.” her posture straightened. “when?”
“last night.”
“what’d they say?” you unlocked your phone. your hands felt colder than they should. you handed the phone over. silence stretched as she read. once, then again. her jaw tightened.
especially as her eyes skimmed over; he’s good at calming you down.
she looked up slowly. “you were with jimin?” you nodded. “at his apartment.” “did anyone know?”
“no.”
“anyone at all?”
you thought. “no one.” her expression darkened slightly. “okay.”
the way she said it made your stomach twist. she was panicked, she displayed calculated concern, profressional concern. the kind that meant this had official crossed into dangerous territory.
she set your phone down carefully. “i’m escalating this.” your chest tightened. “what does that mean?”
“it means security’s involved already,” she said. “now I’m getting police involved too.” police. the word made everything feel suddenly real. “i also think we need to increase security around you.” you blinked. “me?”
“yes, you.” her tone softened slightly. “they’re focused on you. not him.” that somehow scared you more. “they’re watching your movements,” she continued. “tracking where you go. they know private details.”
a pause.
“which means either someone’s physically following you…” your stomach sank. “…or someone close to the situation knows more than they should.” your mind immediately spiraled. “listen to me,” she said, voice firmer now. “i need you to take this seriously.”
“I am.”
“no,” she said gently. “i mean very seriously.” that made you pause.
“do not go anywhere alone.” your pulse ticked up. “if they message again, don’t engage.” she slid a small business card across the desk. a direct number; security.
“call immediately if anything feels off.” then,“I think you should tell jimin.” the words came fast. “no.” Her brows lifted. “he’ll freak out.”
“he deserves to know.”
“he already stresses enough.”
“he cares about you.” she says softly. you looked down, because that was exactly the problem. she sighed quietly. “i’m not forcing you,” she said. “but secrets get dangerous in situations like this.” before you could respond a knock hit the office door, then opened before either of you answered. jimin; slightly sweaty, practice shirt sticking to him and concern already written across his face.
his eyes moved between both of you. “okay…” he looked at you first. “why does this feel serious?” the manager looked at you, waiting and giving you the choice. jimin frowned slightly.
“what’s going on?”
the room went quiet and your stomach dropped. because the way he was looking at you; confused, concerned, already worried, made you feel uneasy.
you looked at the manager but she didn’t say anything, just gave a small nod. your choice. your chest tightened. “can we…” your voice came out quieter than expected. “can we talk somewhere?” jimin’s expression shifted immediately more serious.
“yeah. of course.” he looked between you and the manager once more.“is everything okay?” you forced something close to a nod. “just… come with me.” the walk back to one of the smaller lounge rooms felt painfully long. jimin stayed close the entire time.
concern practically radiating off him now. the second the door shut behind you, he turned fully toward you. “okay,” he said carefully. “you’re scaring me a little.” guilt twisted in your stomach.
you looked down at your hands, suddenly unable to figure out how to start. “hey,” he said softer now. he stepped closer. “whatever it is, just tell me.” you swallowed hard. “someone’s been messaging me.”
pause. his brows furrowed slightly. “messaging you?” you nodded. “weird messages.” you pulled your phone out. your hands shook more than you wanted them to. “they know about us.” his expression changed instantly.
confusion, then concern, then something sharper. “what?”
you handed him the phone. you watched his face slowly shift as he read. the first messages, the photo, the details, then last night.
he’s good at calming you down.
his jaw tightened. he read the messages again, slower this time. “what the hell…” the room suddenly felt too small. “i didn’t wanna tell you,” you admitted quietly. “because i didn’t want you stressed and i thought maybe it was just some weird fan or..”
“why would you keep this to yourself?”
his voice wasn’t angry, just overwhelmed. “because i knew you’d react like this.”
“react like what?” he looked up quickly. “worried? obviously i’m worried.” your throat tightened. “they’re watching you,” he said, quieter now. “they know where you are.” you nodded once. “the manager said police are getting involved.” that made him go still. for a second, he just stared at the phone.
something unreadable crossed his face. “…jimin?” he looked up too fast. “have you…” you frowned.
“what?” he looked away briefly and ran a hand through his hair, then sighed. “i didn’t say anything because i thought it was nothing.” your pulse stopped. “what?”
his expression tightened. “i’ve been getting messages too.”
you stared at him, surely you’d heard him wrong. “…what?”
he unlocked his own phone and opened a message thread. there weren’t one or two messages. there were dozens. your chest tightened immediately. “why didn’t you tell me?” he laughed once, humorless. “same reason you didn’t.” he handed you the phone. your fingers felt numb.
unknown number:
she looks prettier when she smiles.
another,
unknown number:
you should stop sneaking around.
another,
unknown number:
you’re getting careless.
your stomach twisted, then you reached one from last night. timestamped almost the exact same time as yours.
unknown number:
don’t push her too hard. she’s already scared.
your blood ran cold because, they knew. they knew what conversation you’d had, what mood you were in.
another message, older, from two nights ago.
unknown number:
protect her better.
you looked up slowly. “they’ve been messaging you this whole time?”
“not as much,” he said quietly. “i blocked the first number.” your stomach dropped. “first?”
he nodded once. “they changed numbers.” cold swept through you “why didn’t you tell security?”
“because i thought it was sasaeng behavior,” he admitted. “creepy, but…” he exhaled sharply. “this?” he gestured toward your phone. “this is different.” way different. the room went quiet again.
then, buzz.
both phones lit up at the exact same time. you froze. jimin went still beside you. slowly, you looked down.
same number, same message.
unknown number:
there. honesty looks better on both of you.
jimin stood immediately, all softness gone. he was protective now. his jaw tightened. “okay,” he said quietly. “we’re done treating this like a joke.”
another buzz. you almost didn’t want to look, but you did anyway.
unknown number:
good. now that you’re finally listening, are you ready to play my game?
𓊆 ❤︎ 𓊇 ──── seven powerful businessmen have the luxury, the influence and anything they could ever desire — yet none of it makes them feel alive anymore. that is, until they become captivated by a waitress who awakens something inside them for the first time in years. drawn in by your presence, they offer you one night of passion and pleasure in exchange for money, never expecting it to end in such an unforgettable way.
PAIRING ✦ dom!bts x sub!f.reader
GENRE ✦ gangbang au, BDSM, polyamory, eightsome, porn with little plot, smut, fluff
WARNINGS ✦ 18+, explicit smut, consensual rough sex, eightsome, multiple orgasms and positions, creampie, unprotected sex, free use, semipublic sex, breeding and impregnation kink, degradation, power play, size difference, bondage, reader gets passed around, oral sex (f. receiving), double penetration, triple penetration, vaginal and anal sex, anal training, spanking, impact play (use of hands, belts etc), choking and breath play, possible use of sex toys, overstimulation, forced orgasms, cum inflation and belly bulging, pussy eating and fingering, squirting, wet & messy sex, body worship, dirty talk, fisting and gaping, breast play, mentions of safe word (not used), oral sex (m. receiving), sloppy blowjob, throat fucking, manhandling, use of lube and saliva, cum stuffing, use of belt as a collar, reader takes three cocks at the same time, sweetest loving aftercare, more tags to be added...
WC ✦ 30k+ ( estimated )
NOTE ✦ 5k followers special oneshot as i promised to you babes *MWAAAH*
SYNOPSIS: you swore you wouldn't answer. not after the breakup, not after months of silence, and certainly not when he texts you out of nowhere with that same dry, smug confidence that always got under your skin. But before you know it, you're on the phone with him, falling into familiar habits of unresolved tension and built up desire.
CONTENT: phone sex, praise, “good girl”, mutual masturbation, exes to lovers in a way
AUTHORS NOTE: woah look who’s back..????? left for half a year and came back with a new fav group, expect a LOT of bts fics from now on!! i hope you guys didn’t forget about me haha.. SORRYYYYY
word count: [4.3k]
YOONGI was always dry, subtle, a little smug, like he knew exactly how to get under your skin but never said it directly. Apparently, that hadn’t changed even after the breakup.
If anything, it made it worse.
There was something about his quiet confidence, like he never felt the need to prove himself, that pulled you in every single time.
This time was no different. It was 2:38 in the morning as you laid in bed with a restless boredom. The air was still and quiet, as if your surroundings were anticipating a sudden snap. It was the calm before the storm, the kind of silence that made every noise feel dangerous.
A high pitched ‘ding!’ went off on your phone as you snapped your head over to locate the noise. Of course the culprit was none other than Yoongi, the same boy you swore you wouldn’t let back in no matter how smooth he talked.
u up?
couldn’t sleep, thinkin bout u
Despite everything, your stomach flipped instantly. It was pathetic, really, how two simple texts from him could still do that to you.
You stared at the screen longer than necessary, thumb hovering over the keyboard as you weighed your options. This was a bad idea, embarrassingly bad.
Which was probably why you replied anyway.
why are you texting me at almost 3 am?
go to bed
It wasn’t long before your message switched from delivered to read, almost as if he’d been waiting for your reply. Not even a minute after, you heard that familiar notification sound from your phone once again.
missed bothering u
You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. He couldn’t be serious right now
be fr yoongi.
Three dots appeared, disappeared, then came right back.
i am, couldn’t get u off my mind
Oh. He was serious.
‘After all this time,’ you thought, ‘after everything?’ Your mind wandered to your breakup, the moment you felt the world slipping out of your hands. You promised to always be there for eachother, but you never expected it to be like this.
why now?
Your heart dropped after hitting send, but even more after seeing his response.
u act like i ever stopped
His words hit you harder than you wanted to admit. You found yourself craving more than just pixels on a screen. You needed something greater, something real.
Fingers moving faster than your brain, you quickly typed out another message.
call me?
You stared the message sending, heart thudding against your ribs. One phone call, that was all. Nothing extreme, just a simple conversation to process everything unfolding right infront of you.
The phone rang almost instantly, and your stomach tightened in the same familiar way it used to. It was bittersweet realizing how easily he could still affect you. As your finger hurriedly tapped the green accept button, your voice caught in your throat.
“You took forever,” he murmured the second you answered
His voice was lower than you remembered. Rough around the edges with sleep, dangerous even. Still, you couldn’t pull yourself out of the trance he’d placed on you.
You grumbled, half upset and half snarky, “You’re one to talk.”
A low chuckle sounded from the other line. The sound settled deep in your chest in a painfully familiar way. No matter how much of a front you tried to put up, your body never lied.
“Yeah, alright,” Yoongi remarked, “So how have you been? You dont text anymore.”
You let out a quiet scoff, shifting onto your side as you stared at the dim ceiling above you. “That usually happens when people break up, Yoongi.”
“Mm.”
That was all he gave at first. A low hum against the speaker, calm and unreadable in the way that always used to drive you insane. Then suddenly, his deep voice cut through the phone once again, “Still could’ve texted.”
Your chest tightened embarrassingly fast, the way it would back when the two of you were together.
“You could’ve texted too.” You shot back, partially upset over the lack of contact.
Another pause followed. You could hear faint rustling on his end, sheets moving around as if he’d finally settled deeper into bed. The image formed too easily in your mind: messy dark hair, sleepy eyes, arm tucked behind his head as he spoke like this was the most casual thing in the world.
“Thought about it,” he admitted quietly.
Your fingers curled tighter around your phone. Every conversation with him felt dangerous, as if he was pulling you in like a siren to sea, “Then why didn’t you?”
For a second, all you heard was his breathing. Slow, steady, and somehow causing every nerve in your body to tense up. As you waited for his answer in nervousness, part of you, deep down, was hopeful for his response.
“Didn’t think you’d answer.”
The honesty in his voice caught you off guard enough to leave you silent. Yoongi noticed immediately. Of course he did, he always does.
A faint chuckle slipped through the speaker as he spoke up. “What?”
“Nothing.” you mumbled quickly, but you were a mess. His response sat deep in your heart, a place you didn’t know still existed.
“Liar.”
Heat crept up your neck at the way he said it. Soft, amused, like he still knew you better than anyone else. You swallowed hard before forcing yourself to speak. “Why’d you really text me?”
Silence hung through the air. Not awkward silence, a heavy silence. The kind that only sat between two people who still had too much history between them.
“Was up,” he finally said, but his voice dropped lower this time. It was quieter, closer, “You’ve been on my mind all day.”
Your heartbeat caught mid-beat as his words echoed through your head. Had he missed you? And had you missed him back? “Yoongi—”
“Relax,” he murmured. “I’m just talking.” But the problem was that with him, ‘just talking’ had never stayed simple for very long.
“You’re impossible.” You muttered, but the words came out weaker than you intended, almost like a sigh.
Yoongi hummed softly on the other end, that familiar low sound that always settled deep in your stomach. He didn’t rush to reply. He never did. The silence stretched just long enough to make your skin prickle with anticipation.
“Am I?” he finally asked, voice quiet and laced with amusement. “Or are you just mad that you picked up on the first ring?”
You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see it, shifting restlessly under your sheets. “It’s late. I really shouldn’t have.”
“Yet here we are,” he murmured, followed by yet another pause. You could hear him breathing slow and steadily, like he had all the time in the world. “You still haven’t told me why you wanted me to call.”
Your fingers tightened around the phone as a growing heat crept slowly up your neck. As much as you hated how easily he could do this to you with just his voice, you didn’t want it to stop.
“I just wanted to talk,” you said, trying to sound steady. “I don’t like texting.”
“Mhm. So talk then. What’re wearing right now?” Yoongi asked. The question was simple, but the way he said it made your pulse jump, as if it were an everyday occurrence.
You swallowed hard then spoke up, “One of my old t-shirts.”
Yoongi let out a quiet breath, almost like a sigh. Another faint moving sound came from the speaker as he questioned you again “Which t-shirt?”
You hesitated in embarrassment. ‘Fuck’ you thought, ‘Why did I chose tonight of all days to wear his clothes?” Finding your stability again, you answered softly, “The black one. Yours.”
A low chuckle rumbled through the line, warm and satisfied—cocky. “Should’ve known. You always kept my shit, didn’t you?”
“Shut up,” you whispered, flustered, but you didn’t deny it. Your free hand had unconsciously drifted to the hem of the shirt, fingers tracing the soft cotton.
“You still in bed?” he asked, his voice low and a little raspy from the late hour, the way it always got when he was tired but not quite ready to sleep “Yeah,” you answered, shifting slightly against your pillows.
“Comfy?” His tone dropped just a fraction, calm and unhurried. “Relaxed?”
“Not really,” you admitted, the words slipping out before you could filter them. You could practically hear the faint smirk in the silence that followed, that subtle smugness he never tried to hide.
“Why’s that?” Yoongi asked simply, never one to push too hard but always knowing exactly when to nudge, his patience stretching the moment out until your skin felt too warm.
You closed your eyes, heart beating a little faster at the nervousness pumping through your body. Speaking up, you responded quietly. “Because you’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?”
“Being all… quiet and smug. Like you know exactly what’s happening to me right now.” You admitted. He stayed silent for a moment, the kind of intentional pause that made the air feel heavier, thicker with tension. Then his voice came back, even softer, deeper, sliding into your ear like velvet. “And what’s happening to you right now, baby?”
The pet name hit you slowly, sinking in like warm honey dripping down your spine. You pressed your thighs together under the blanket, feeling that familiar warmth starting to spread between your legs, a slow heat building low in your stomach “I’m… warm.” you whispered.
“Just warm?” he murmured, patient as ever. “Or is it more than that?” He spoke as if he didn’t know what he was doing to you, like his words had no impact on your mind, your body.
Your hand moved on its own, sliding down your stomach over the soft fabric of his old black t-shirt, fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. “More than that.”
“Tell me where your hand is.” he spoke. His voice was so soft in a way that made your bones shake. The rasp in each syllable he pronounced gave you goosebumps.
You bit your lip, hesitating as the tension thickened between you, your pulse quickening under your skin. “On my stomach.”
“Mm.” The soft hum vibrated through the phone. “Move it lower, slowly.” Your fingers trembled just a little as you obeyed, slipping under the hem of his old cotton t-shirt and brushing over the waistband of your panties. A shaky breath left you, your skin already feeling hypersensitive to every touch.
“Feel how warm you are?” Yoongi asked, his voice like rough velvet, calm but heavy. “Slide your fingers over your panties first. Don’t go inside yet, just tease yourself a little.”
You followed his words, grazing lightly over the damp fabric in nauseatingly slow strokes, feeling the increasing wetness soak through the thin cotton. A soft, involuntary sound slipped from your lips as your fingertips circled over your clit through the material.
Yoongi hummed again, low and approving. “There it is, that sound I missed.” A brief pause. “You’re already wet, aren’t you baby?”
“…Yeah,” you breathed, face heating up with a mix of embarrassment and arousal.
“Good girl,” he said quietly, sounding pleased but still so composed. “Keep touching, nice and slow—Don’t rush it.”
Your fingers moved lazily, each pass making the ache between your legs grow heavier and deeper, your hips shifting restlessly under the sheets as the slow build started to drive you crazy in the sweetest, most frustrating way. The wet sounds of your fingers gliding over the soaked fabric were starting to fill the quiet room.
“Yoongi…” you murmured after a while, his name coming out almost like a sigh.
“I know,” he replied, voice low and steady. “Feels good, doesn’t it? But you’re not allowed to go faster, not yet.” He let the silence sit for a second before speaking again. “I want you dripping before you even push a finger in that pretty pussy.”
You let out a soft whine at his words, the dragged out pleasure making everything feel more intense. Every gentle circle tightened the coil in your stomach, but never enough to push you over.
“Tell me how it feels.” he said eventually, tone a little rougher around the edges now, though he was still holding back.
“Wet,” you gasped quietly. “I can feel it soaking through… God, Yoongi.”
He let out a low breath, almost a groan but quieter, more restrained. “Fuck. I bet you look so pretty like this.” Another short pause. “Spread your legs a little more for me.”
You did it without thinking, knees falling apart beneath the sheets as your fingers kept their dizzying rhythm, pressing a bit firmer against your swollen clit through the fabric.
“Yoongi… please,” you whispered after another long stretch of silence, your voice trembling with need.
“Please what?” he asked, still controlled, but you could hear the faint edge of desire creeping into his raspy voice. “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you need.”
“I want… I wanna touch myself properly.”
A soft, smug little chuckle came through the line. “Push your panties to the side,” he murmured, voice low and steady like gravel wrapped in silk. “But with one finger, nice and slow for me.”
You let out a shaky exhale, the sound barely audible over the quiet ambiance of your room. With your heart pounding in your chest, you slid a trembling finger under your panties and slowly dragged it to the side, exposing your slick, heated core to the cool air.
The moment the fabric moved away, you could feel just how wet you’d become from his teasing, your arousal making your thighs feel sticky yet warm.
Your legs stayed spread apart beneath the sheets, knees bent slightly as you laid on your back, one hand holding the phone tightly to your ear while the other hovered hesitantly between your legs.
Yoongi remained silent for a few long seconds as if he were giving you time to follow through, letting the anticipation stretch out until it felt unbearable.
You could hear the quiet rustle of his own sheets on the other end. Imagining him lying there in the dark with his messy dark hair falling over his eyes, one arm tucked behind his head in that lazy way he always did sent a wave of desire through your entire body.
“Go on,” he finally said, his tone calm but carrying that subtle edge of command. “Slide a finger in, feel how tight you are for me.”
You obeyed with a soft gasp, slowly pushing your middle finger past your entrance. The feeling was immediate and intense—the warm heat of your walls clenching around your finger as you sank it in as deep as you could go.
A quiet whimper escaped your lips, back arching off the mattress as your hips shifted instinctively for more friction. The slow pace he demanded made everything feel amplified, every tiny movement of your finger sent ripples of pleasure through your lower stomach.
“Mm… that’s it,” Yoongi hummed approvingly, sound vibrating through the phone straight into your core. “How does it feel baby? Tell me.”
“It’s so warm,” you whispered breathlessly, voice shaking as you began to move your finger in and out in measured, steady strokes. “And wet Yoongi, I can hear it.” Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but you couldn’t stop the words from spilling out.
Setting the phone on speaker placing it beside you, your now free hand gripped the sheets, knuckles turning pale as you fought the urge to go faster.
Yoongi let out a low, quiet breath, almost like a sigh of appreciation. “Good girl, you’re always so honest when you’re like this. Keep going… curl your finger a little bit. Just like that darling, you’re doing so well for me.”
The praise settled over you like a warm blanket, making your stomach flutter even as the slow drag of your finger continued to build that deep, aching pressure inside you.
You curled your finger upward as he told you to, brushing against a sensitive spot that made your thighs quiver. Your breathing had grown heavier now, chest rising and falling quickly under his old black t-shirt, nipples hardened against the soft cotton.
“Fuck, I love that sound.” he murmured after a pause, his voice dropping even lower, rougher around the edges. “You have no idea how much I missed hearing you fall apart like this, so damn perfect.”
You added the slightest bit more pressure, hips rolling involuntarily into your hand. Sweat was starting to form along your hairline as the ache between your legs grew heavier with each passing minute.
Each time you pushed your finger back in, you imagined it was his; longer, thicker, moving with that same confidence he always had when he touched you.
“Yoongi…” you breathed out his name like a chant, your head turning into the pillow as another soft whimper left you. “Feels so good, I need more.”
He chuckled softly, the sound sending a fresh wave of heat rushing through your body. “I know you do, baby, but not yet. You’re gonna stay right there, nice and slow until I tell you otherwise. You can handle that for me, can’t you my good girl?”
"Put another in," he instructed, "Don't rush. Let yourself feel every inch of it."
You whimpered softly, the sound catching in your throat as you slowly withdrew your finger until just the tip remained inside, walls fluttering around the emptiness. The cool air hit your soaked skin for only a moment before you were pressing two fingers against your entrance, the pressure already making your hips jerk up
"Easy," Yoongi cooed. You could picture the way his eyes would crinkle at the corners, that rare smile he reserved only for moments like this. "Take your time. Push in slow, baby, I wanna hear when it gets tight."
You bit down on your lower lip hard enough to leave marks as you began to work the second finger inside. The stretch was intense, a delicious burn that made your toes curl against the sheets. Your breath came out in short, sharp gasps as you eased deeper, feeling your muscles resist for a moment before slowing down.
"There you go," he praised, voice dropping an octave, it was rougher now with his own restrained need. "That's my girl. Y’feel that? Feel how full you are?"
"Yes," you gasped, your head falling back against the pillow as you finally seated both fingers fully inside, the heel of your palm pressing against your swollen clit. "Fuck Yoongi, it's.. it's too much. I'm so full, I can feel every—"
"Move for me." he cut off with that authority that made your body sing. "Slow. I want you to feel every single stroke."
You began to thrust your fingers in and out, the wet, noisy sound of your arousal now louder with the added friction of the second finger. Your hips jerked upward to meet your own hand, craving deeper contact as your walls clenched rhythmically around your fingers. The pressure was building faster, coiling tight and hot in your stomach.
"Please..” you breathed, the word dissolving into a moan as you curled both fingers upward, finding that spot that made sparks explode behind your eyelids. "Please, Yoongi, I need—"
"I know what you need." he said. You could hear the shift in his breathing, it was faster and more ragged than before, his own hand moving beneath his sheets with your movements. "But you're not gonna finish yet. Keep that pace for me, slow and deep. Tell me how wet you are."
"I'm dripping," you cried out softly, your face burning with shame and arousal as you felt a fresh wave of heat rush through you, more slick easing out until your fingers were sliding effortlessly through your folds. "It's running down my hand, down my wrist. Yoongi, please… I can't— I need to go faster. I'm so close, I can feel it—"
"Not yet." he said firmly, though you could hear the strain in his voice now. "Add your thumb. Press it against your clit, but don't rub it. Just hold it there."
You obeyed, pressing the pad of your thumb against your throbbing clit and holding still even as your hips bucked desperately. It was torture; your fingers buried deep, curled against that sensitive spot, thumb adding pressure as your walls fluttered and clenched around yourself.
"Good girl," he groaned, the sound sending a shockwave through your core. "Fuck, you sound so perfect, so desperate for me. Now listen baby, when I tell you to move your thumb, you're gonna rub yourself in tight little circles and fuck yourself faster. Do you understand?"
"Yes," you whimpered, your whole body shaking now, sweat dampening the sheets beneath you, your nipples aching where they pressed against the fabric of his dark t-shirt.
"Come on," Yoongi breathed, voice rough and broken in a way you'd never heard before. "Move your thumb, baby. Make yourself cum for me."
You didn't hesitate. Your thumb began circling your clit in tight, desperate circles while your fingers fucked yourself faster, curling against a spot inside you that made your vision blur. Wet sounds filled the room obscenely, but you didn't care anymore—lost completely to the pleasure building like a storm inside you.
"Yoongi…" you gasped, your hips bucking wildly now, chasing the release that hovered just out of reach.
"That's it," he groaned, and you could hear it now—the rhythmic sound of his own hand moving beneath his sheets, the ragged breaths he couldn't quite suppress anymore. "Fuck, just like that. Tell me you're close. Tell me you're gonna cum for me."
"I'm close," you cried out, your voice cracking as your stomach knotted impossibly tighter, heat flooding in your body. "I'm so close, Yoongi, please—"
You whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you kept working your fingers, hovering on the razor's edge of orgasm. Your whole body trembled, every touch now almost painful in its intensity.
"Now." Yoongi growled, the word tearing from his throat. "Cum with me, baby. Right now—"
You didn't need to be told twice. Your thumb pressed hard against your clit, rubbing ruthlessly as your fingers drove deep, curling and pressing in your pussy.
Your back arched off the bed, a broken cry tearing from your throat that didn't even sound like you as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through. Your walls clamped down around your fingers, pulsing rhythmically as you rode out the orgasm, hips jerking helplessly against your hand.
From the phone, you heard Yoongi's own release as he spoke up. “Oh fuck… God baby— so damn perfect, you sound so good. Shit, I’m—“ A low, dragged out groan vibrated through the speaker and echoed inside your chest. The thought of his ropes of arousal shooting out and spilling over his hands made you moan in need.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of both of you breathing hard, coming down from your climax together. Your body felt liquid, sinking deep into the mattress as aftershocks rippled through you. You became aware of the sweat cooling on your skin, the way your fingers were still buried inside you, the dampness of his t-shirt clinging to your chest.
"Fuck," Yoongi exhaled, his voice soft and spent, all the rough edges smoothed away. You could hear the smile in it, lazy and satisfied. "I forgot how loud you get."
You laughed breathless and embarrassed as you slowly withdrew your hand, wiping your fingers against your thigh. Your face burned, but it was a different kind of heat now—the glow of satisfaction mixed with the vulnerability of what you'd just shared.
"Shut up," you mumbled, but there was no bite to it.
Silence followed between you, comfortable this time. You reached for the phone, taking it off speaker and bringing it back to your ear. "You still there?" you asked quietly.
"Yeah," he murmured. "I'm here."
You stared at the ceiling, heart still beating a little too fast, and thought about all the nights you'd spent missing this—missing him. The breakup hadn't erased the way he fit into your life, the way he seemed to find his way into spaces you didn't even know were empty. "Yoongi?" you spoke up
"Mm?"
"What happens now?" you asked. He didn't answer right away, and you listened to the sound of him shifting, imagined him staring at his own ceiling in the dark, messy hair falling across his forehead.
"I don't know," he admitted, and there was something vulnerable in his honesty, something that reminded you of the boy you'd fallen in love with before the hurt had built walls between you. "But I don't want to stop talking to you. Not again."
Your chest tightened, a different kind of ache now. The type that was tender and hopeful. "Me neither."
"Get some sleep," he said softly, not pushing for more, not demanding answers you didn't have yet, but genuinely caring for you and your wellbeing. "It's late."
"You too."
"Hey," he added just as you were about to say goodbye. "That shirt looks better on you anyway. Keep it." You smiled into the darkness, clutching your phone a little tighter. "I was planning to anyways."
"Of course you were." His smugness was back, but gentler now, warmed by something that sounded a lot like affection. "Goodnight, baby."
"Goodnight, Yoongi."
You ended the call and set the phone on your nightstand, but sleep didn't come right away. You laid there in his shirt, skin still buzzing with the memory of his voice, and let yourself hope, really hope, that this time, things might be different.
Outside your window, the night was still and quiet. But inside your chest, something that had been still for a long time began, slowly, to wake up again.
It's too hot to think, too hot to work, and definitely too hot for Namjoon to be left alone in his studio with you.
My masterlist!
Warnings: smut, PWP, established relationship, studio sex, implied oral (m receiving) mating press, creampie, dom Joon, cockdrunk sub reader, praise kink, aftercare <3
Namjoon should've known better.
In his defense, he thought inviting you to the studio would result in a productive afternoon.
In your defense, he looked way too good sitting in that chair.
Ten minutes later, the song remains unfinished as Namjoon’s fingers hook into the waistband of your little skirt and panties to tug them down.
"So pretty," he coos as he leans over you, his big body pressing you deeper into the couch as your bottoms lie discarded on the floor.
You whine his name shyly in response, cheeks pink and hair a mess on the cushion behind you. Namjoon's bare chest brushes your hardened nipples, and you moan at the contact.
"Love seeing you all flushed like this," he murmurs as he gazes down at you, eyes half-lidded and hungry. His thick cock stands hard against his stomach, the tip red and leaking in the stuffy air of his studio.
It's hot. Sickeningly so. Summers in Seoul are not for the weak, and with the AC busted and Namjoon’s warm body pressing against yours, you're slick with sweat and your mind is hazy.
But all the discomfort fades the moment Namjoon sinks his cock into your dripping pussy.
"Joon," you gasp, hands flying to his arms. You grip hard, nails leaving behind little crescent shaped indents in the skin.
You've been together for years, but every time you fuck, it feels like the first time all over again. You often tease Namjoon that his cock was made for you, but as your toes curl at the sensation of being filled, you don't think it's a joke anymore.
His cock is perfectly curved, hitting that spot inside you just enough for your thoughts to dissolve. The fat vein that runs along the underside of his only adds to the feeling of being split open.
"Baby," Namjoon groans back, hands smoothing up your sides instinctively. You shudder, incoherent gasps and whimpers leaving you as he presses in deeper.
"Ngh—Nam—" you mewl, his name dying on your tongue. Namjoon's eyes flutter at the feeling of your pussy tightening around him, and it only gets worse when he starts to move.
"Shit," he hisses, pulling out halfway before slamming back in. You cry out, clenching around him more and causing his hips to stutter.
"You're squeezing the life out of me," he breathes, rocking into you slowly. His damp hair sticks to his forehead as he gazes down at you, eyes flicking between your face and bouncing breasts.
The pace is torturous, and Namjoon knows it too. He smirks as a pathetic whimper slips from your still-swollen lips from when you'd sucked him off earlier. Your entire body trembles with anticipation as your hands slide to his chest, clawing at his skin desperately.
"Please," you manage, arching into him. "I need—" Your voice cuts into a garbled moan when his fingers graze your clit, featherlight.
"Hmm? Need what?" Namjoon teases, although he knows exactly what it is.
"More," you huff, fingers catching on the silver chain dangling from his neck. You grasp it, pulling him forward by the metal until his nose brushes yours. "Need more, Joonie." Your lips jut out in a soft pout, begging.
"Jesus, sweetheart," he groans, overwhelmed by the look on your face. Your eyes are soft and full, lips parted as you whine. His hands slide under your knees before you realize what he's doing.
"Oh—!"
Namjoon adjusts your position carefully, setting your legs over his shoulders so you're folded in half under him. The mating press drives his cock deeper, pressing the head firmly against that sensitive spot inside you.
"Ah—ah—" You've lost the ability to speak, eyes rolling into the back of your skull as Namjoon snaps his hips quickly, the couch shaking from the force of his movements.
"Look at you," Namjoon breathes, voice equally wrecked and awed. His forehead rests against your foot, sweat-slick skin sliding together. "Taking me so well. Every inch."
You try to respond, but all that comes out is a string of broken moans as his cock grinds deliciously against your sensitive walls. Stars burst behind your eyes.
"Yeah?" He kisses your ankle, gentle even as his thrusts grow harder. "You love this, don't you? Just letting me use this pretty pussy."
"Mmmyes." The syllables slur together as you blink through sudden tears, feeling so good that you can't help but cry.
Namjoon’s face softens briefly when he sees you crying over his dick, your lashes sitting heavy against your cheeks. "Aww." His thumb wipes lightly under your eyes. "Think I broke my girl."
Your response is something reminiscent of his name, and he chuckles lowly. He leans down, his chain tapping your chin as he captures your lips in a brusing kiss.
You gasp into it, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to taste your helplessness. When he breaks the kiss, his breath fans hot against your lips. "Soaking me like the good girl you are."
He doesn't even give you a chance to recover because his fingers find your clit again, rubbing firm circles. The sensation makes heat coil low in your belly before it spikes, making your vision blur at the edges.
"C-close!" you gasp weakly, nails raking down his back. The lewd sounds of his thrusts fill the studio, his heavy balls clapping loudly against your ass.
Thank God for soundproof walls.
"Already?" Namjoon teases lovingly, but his thrusts start to falter as your pussy flutters around him rhythmically. "Gonna fill you up. You want that, don't you?"
You nod frantically. "Uh-huh, pleasepleaseplease—"
He doesn't stop rubbing your clit, even after you let out a sob. "So perfect. So tight. Made for my cock."
The combination of his hands on you and his words pushes you over the edge. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as your entire body locks up. All you can feel is the relentless clench and release of your pussy as you cream around his cock.
The moment your orgasm rips through you, Namjoon's composure shatters.
"Fuck—" he rasps, his rhythm falling into short, hard thrusts that steal the air from your lungs. "Thaaat's it. Gonna make me cum too."
You barely register his words, still drunk on your climax, the room fuzzy. The only sound you manage is a tiny, pleading whimper. That's all the answer he needs.
Groaning your name, Namjoon slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt. He stills as his cock pulses, his cum coating your walls. You feel it filling you, thick and hot, warming your already hot body.
He's breathing hard, chest heaving as your legs shake around his shoulders. The weight of him practically melts you into the couch, your body pliant.
Namjoon's gaze is tender now despite the mess he's made of you. He strokes your cheekbone with his thumb, soothing.
"You good, sweetheart?"
You smile up at him, all teary-eyed and affectionate. Only Namjoon would get all soft after completely rearranging your insides.
He stays inside you for a long moment, letting the connection linger, before slowly pulling out. The loss of him followed by the trickle of cum down your thigh makes you shudder.
Namjoon’s already reaching for you, pulling you into his arms and pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.
"Joonie," you grumble, squirming in his arms. "I'm all sticky and hot."
"Still wanna take care of my girl, though," he replies immediately.
You can't even argue with that when you hear the smile in his voice.
Namjoon cleans you you up with a damp cloth from the bathroom down the hall, kissing your thighs every time they twitch in sensitivity. He strokes your hair back and gently blows cool air on your face, muttering about how he's already called maintenance twice about the AC.
And all you can do is grin like an idiot at Namjoon because hearing him rant about something as mundane as AC mechanics only makes you fall deeper in love with him.
Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! <3
Genre: Oneshot, smut, pwp, established relationship
Summary: After a small fight, Yoongi wants to make it up to you. He'll do the thing for you, he's on his knees and, of course, he also says please.
Warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content, very loosely based on the lyrics of 'Please', oral (f receiving), fingering, face sitting, PiV, unprotected sex (they're together and I imagined MC on some form of contraceptive), dirty talk, Yoongi is cocky in the beginning and whiny towards the end, this isn't a dom/sub setting at all but if it was he'd be a switch, he's pussy whipped and begs for it hehe
Wordcount: 3.4k
Masterlist
The argument you had with Yoongi earlier wasn't even supposed to be one, seriously. You were just playing, but he took it the wrong way and now you're sitting on the couch sulking.
You were driving home together when it happened. Yoongi was parking the car, had put it in reverse, looking out the rear window with his arm slung around the back of your seat while backing into the open spot. You’d told him something about - what even was it...? Some random post you’d seen online about sourdough. And he didn’t listen because he was busy concentrating on parking. He’d asked you to come again once he turned off the car and you said something along the lines of it’s alright, you never listen to me anyway.
It was supposed to be a joke. Obviously! You’d even grinned while saying it but had turned your head away from him to look out the window in a dramatic display of feigned offense. Yoongi didn’t catch the sarcasm. And he huffed. Then shook his head and got out of the car without another word. That’s when you started to get pissed. He really thought you were that much of a bitch, huh? Okay then.
Neither of you were in the mood to address it, busy seething with a subtle broil of pent up irritation as you entered your shared apartment. He tried to ease the tension by pushing your shoulder with a playful nudge of his while you slipped out of your shoes. You scoffed though, still griping about him believing you’d be upset over something so trivial. And yes, the irony was lost on you. He let you be then, knowing you’d come around after a while and needing a minute to clear his head himself.
Some hours have passed since, the cool down phase in full effect and you drop on the couch after a long shower that brought some sense of balance to your brain. This ‘fight’ was so stupid, it almost makes you laugh. You shake your head, pulling your bath robe tighter as you swipe on your phone when he walks past you, then stops. He’s testing the waters, you can tell from the way he monitors your body language; how you will or won’t react to his presence. You raise a brow while looking up at him, the corner of your lip pulling upwards. A truce. One he decides to accept, judging by the way he trudges closer.
“You feel better?” he asks and you know he worded it that way on purpose, so as not to ask you if you’ve finally calmed down.
You huff out a breath, laughter mixed with a hint of reluctance, because that question still suggests that you’ve been overreacting. You don’t pin him down on it, though. Not yet at least. Rather, you return it. “And you?”
“Mhm.” He bends his knees until he’s crouching before you, his eyes now level with yours, one hand resting on your knee for support. “We were both being stupid, huh?”
Yeah, he’s right. Still, you don’t have to admit it right away. “I was just joking, you know? When I said you never listen to me.”
“Yeah, I figured,” he sighs. “An hour too late, I guess.”
The honesty makes you laugh and you drop your phone somewhere in the cracks of the couch cushions.
Yoongi takes it as an invitation - an unspoken extension of the truce that, if handled correctly, could even lead to peace. “I’m sorry baby,” he says before he leans in. “Let me make it up to you.”
You’re closing in as well, meeting his lips for a single kiss. Smiling now, you might have an idea on how he could fulfill that proposition. “And how would you do that?”
Yoongi cocks his head to the side with a smirk, eyelids narrowing as he thinks about it. He moves from crouching to resting on his knees on the floor before you, hand on the back of your head pulling you forward, so you’re still face to face even though he’s positioned lower than before. He kisses your cheek, lips wandering along your jaw and down the side of your throat where he sucks lightly, making your breath hitch. When his nose traces your earlobe he detaches from you but stays close, whispering, “I’ll do the thing for you.”
“The thing?” Oh, you know exactly which thing.
“Yeah,” he breathes against your neck while his right hand reaches for the lapel of your robe. He rubs the soft material between his fingers before gently pushing it aside and slipping them under. “The thing you like so much, you know.”
With the back of his hand now resting on the supple skin of your chest he pulls his head back to look at you.
“Hm, I don’t know what you mean,” you lie as you move closer for another kiss. He leans in harder now, sighing against your lips and pushes his tongue into your mouth. He flicks it against yours lightly, barely grazing you with its tip and it makes you chuckle how he’s subtly trying to help you remember. You pull back but keep him near by cupping his cheek. “Ah, that thing.”
His hand under your robe inches down, knuckles brushing over your nipple and the sensation makes it harden instantly. He finds the belt around your waist with his other hand and unties the knot with his thumb. His eyes widen slightly as the fabric falls open and drops loosely around your sides. It’s not like he hasn’t looked at you a million times before. Still, his lids show the tiniest of flutters every single time, the dilation of his pupils barely detectable.
Yoongi leans in, not taking his gaze off your tits and latches onto your chest. With his lips around one nipple and his hand on the other, he sucks with a slight graze of his teeth and simultaneously rolls his fingers, pulling a gasp from you.
The smirk on his face is dangerous, bordering on vicious, when he looks up at you. “You know, sometimes I think you’re only provoking those small fights for the make-up sex.”
He straightens his back when you don't respond, his knees still on the floor and leans backwards as he snakes his hands beneath your legs. With a firm pull, he drags you down the cushion, so your ass rests at the edge of the sofa, your back now flat against the seat. His hands run up the skin of your thighs, grabbing them gently by the backs of your knees and pushing your legs up against your belly while spreading them. “Keep them like this for me, alright?”
You do what he asked and hold your legs up with your hands, anticipation coiling tightly in your abdomen as you watch him with bated breath.
“So pretty,” he muses quietly when he looks down at you, nodding to himself as if he’s confirming his own remark while his eyes stay glued to your core. “Gonna make it up to you, yeah?”
You nod even though he doesn't wait for your answer anyway, already tilting his head down again but not closing in. He purses his lips a good few inches above your pussy and releases a dense wad of spit, letting it drop slowly so it stretches into a thick string, before it lands directly on your clit. You suck in a breath of surprise at the feeling, your hip jerking as hot slick that’s cooling down quickly trickles down your folds and Yoongi grins as he watches how it coats you.
When he finally comes closer, his lips trace down the inside of your thigh, kissing and sucking the skin on his way. “Gonna eat you out so good baby,” he mumbles while his thumbs draw lazy circles around the outer edges of your labia. “You want that?”
“Yes,” you whine, mouth agape as you watch him descend. If you weren’t wet before, you certainly are now. “Want it so bad.”
Yoongi chuckles against your skin, hot breath fanning over the slick across your core. His lips are soft when he brushes them from where his thumbs work, up to your mound and his eyes snap to yours just before he closes the last bit of distance to place a kiss on your clit. You shudder at the contact, brows furrowed into a needy frown, to which he only grins.
His tongue glides across you in calculated motions and - oh - when he flicks it, he’s really doing the thing that always makes your eyes roll back into your head.
“Fuck,” you breathe out, removing your hand from your shin and bringing it down to stroke through his hair. Yoongi’s lids fall shut when your fingers catch hold of a thick strand to pull him even closer and he releases a muffled groan against you.
He runs his tongue up and down your pussy in unhurried strokes, lapping at your entrance and tracing its outline before coming back up. His finger pushes into you right when his lips close around your clit, sucking lightly and kissing it softly as he applies pressure to his hand, entering you with one single, slow thrust. Your head falls back into the couch cushion when he pumps it in and out, curling it just right, so he hits the spot you need him to.
“Right there,” you moan, fingers tightening around the hair close to his scalp. He knows, of course he does, that you like it right there and doesn't relent, his tongue still working its wonders while he adds a second finger, pushing and pulling and curling on their way out, making you feel like you’re going to explode.
Fuck, the muscles in your abdomen are straining, breaths turning shallow and your legs begin to shake already. You're about to come, pulling him even closer and he groans against your pussy again.
When you tear your eyes open to look at him, you notice him shuffling around a bit and wonder what he's doing. The coil in your belly relaxes at the slight distraction, eyes wandering over his hunched figure. Ah, he moved his free hand down into his pants. You twist your torso a bit to get a better view and take another peak to confirm. Yes, he pushed down his sweats and is jerking himself off while eating you out.
You giggle, feeling yourself getting even wetter at the thought of him enjoying this so much he has to touch himself, but Yoongi looks up at you at the sound.
“What's so funny?” he asks, a bit out of breath.
“Nothing,” you answer as your fingers run across his scalp. “Just didn't expect you to multitask.”
His gaze drops down to his dick, a slight flush on his cheeks before he pulls up his pants.
“No, don't stop. I like it.”
“Not planning on stopping,” he says as he stands up from the floor and offers you his hand. “Just changing the setting.”
You let him pull you up and guide you into the bedroom, where he pushes the bath robe from your shoulders and takes off his shirt. He pulls you to sit at the edge of the bed, tips of his fingers ghosting up your arms before he tangles them in your hair to pull you in. Your lips meet for a hungry kiss, Yoongi’s nonchalance slowly but surely dissipating. His hands roam your whole body and end up on your tits for a harsh squeeze while you sigh against his lips, desperately wanting to touch him too. You reach out for him, palming him over his sweats and earn a sharp exhale from him. He doesn't grant you access for long though as he pulls back, eager eyes now dark and almost impatient, taking in your figure before he slips away.
You watch him moving up the mattress where he throws the pillows down to the floor and lays down flat on his back, his head right where the pillows were a second ago.
“Come here and sit on my face,” he says as his hand already snakes down into his pants again.
No need to ask you twice, of course you’re going to, you’re already on your way actually. You climb onto the bed and swing a leg over him, straddling his face between your thighs. Yoongi smiles up at you before pulling you closer by your hip.
“Now let me finish this.” His words slur against your skin as you grab the headboard for support in hopes that it'll help you to come out of this alive.
His strokes are quick now, diligently lapping at your dripping heat, making you throw your head back, nails digging into the wood in front of you.
“God, fuck,” you sigh, wanting to tell him how good it feels but alas, you're lost for words, thoughts currently swimming somewhere too far away for your brain to catch up and form a coherent sentence.
You're afraid of suffocating him between your legs, thighs flexing absentmindedly to hold most of your weight up even though his left arm on your hip keeps pulling, pulling, pulling you down and you finally give in and relax. Now that you're really sitting down, he breathes out a groan so content, it vibrates through your whole body.
Without a doubt he’s giving his all to make it up to you, kissing, tongue swirling, slurping you up until you see stars. Your hips start rocking on him on their own, needily grinding over his face as you chase your release and he seems to like that, judging by the way he hums against you at the constant back and forth.
“Shit, I’m so close,” you gasp as he’s guiding your movements across his face, tongue rolling over your clit every time you glide over his lips. The coil in your belly tightens as you feel him stir and you turn your head only to see that he’s pushed his sweats down again, hand closed around his dick and stroking himself. The image propels you across the edge, fingers on the headboard digging harder into the wood while your other hand finds his hair to hold on to. With your head spinning and ears ringing, you shudder above him, riding out your high in quick motions, pussy clenching around nothing while he eats you out like you're his favorite meal.
He’s not stopping his feast, still licking your throbbing clit until you have to pull off of him with a moan that ends up sounding more like a cry. Your body betrays you as you move and you practically fold, falling down on the mattress right next to him and landing on your back with a thump.
Yoongi gets up on his knees while you gasp for air, towering over your figure with his sweats shoved down his thighs and he immediately presses himself against you, hand on his hard dick, rubbing it up and down your sensitive core.
“Shit baby,” he grits out with his eyes closed, mouth glistening with your essence as he leans in for another kiss. “Wanna fuck you so bad.”
“Yeah?” you ask, buying yourself a bit more time to calm down. You reach for him and replace his hand with yours, fingers wrapping tightly around his erection. “I’m still so sensitive though.”
His tip is halfway inside of you and his head falls back when you start pumping him slowly, dragging out the moment before he can push in further. “Please baby, you feel so good.”
It makes you chuckle when he begs and he knows you like it, so you can't help yourself from playing that game, still pumping him lazily while he holds himself back from sinking in fully. “Are you sure you've made it up to me properly? You were really mean earlier.”
“Shit, don't do this to me,” he almost whines. “I was so, so good to you, wasn't I? Made you come so hard.”
“Yeah, you did,” you tell him, gripping him a bit tighter as you roll your wrist on him and drawing another sharp breath from his lips while you kiss him. “So you’d say you’ve earned it, huh?”
“Yes!” He nods like you asked him if you should gift him a million dollars right now. “Yes, I’ve earned it. Please baby. Please.”
Can't deny him his wishes, not when he begs so nicely, can you?
“Alright, yeah,” you whisper while changing the angle of your hold to line him up perfectly. “Go on and fuck me, baby.”
He thrusts in fully without any warning, pushing a moan from your lungs at the sudden intrusion and his lids scrunch together when he does. “Shit, sorry,” he mutters as he stills. “That wasn't… Couldn't help it. Did I hurt you?”
Your hands intertwine behind his neck as you shake your head and relax, getting used to the stretch. “No, it's alright.”
He leans in for a kiss, tongue twisting against yours as he pulls his hip back before he thrusts into you again. He sighs with each move, groaning when your lips part. Gripping your hips as he leans back, he holds you in place, fucking into you with force now and his eyes roll back like he’s losing himself in the feeling. “Always so fucking tight for me.”
The noise of your combined moans, your high pitched whines and his low grunts fill the room, accompanied by the quieter sound of his groin snapping against yours, quite like a beat to the carnal melody that the two of you are creating.
Yoongi slides his hands down your legs and moves them to drop your ankles upon his shoulders, creating an angle that allows him to go even deeper than before. You're gasping for air from how he plows into you, the roll of his hips making his cock drag across your g-spot with every thrust.
He grows frantic, spitting out curse words here and there before he takes your hand and guides it between your legs. “Make yourself come on my cock,” he directs with his head falling back between his shoulders. “That’s it baby, I can feel how close you are. Fucking squeezing me.”
He’s right, you are close again, now rubbing yourself in tight circles like he asked and it's like there's no air left in your lungs to exhale. Your muscles tense all over and you bite your tongue to relieve the pressure, watching him pump in and out of you over and over, a vein on his neck straining against his skin like it's about to burst.
“Come for me,” he groans, voice breaking to a tone so wrecked, you both know that no one will ever hear him sound like that but you.
You follow his command, it’s not like you have a choice, another orgasm crashing all over you and draining your mind from everything that isn't him inside of you. Limbs convulse and sweat drips down your temple as the shuddering waves ripple from your core throughout your whole body.
Your pussy clenches around him frantically and pulls him over the edge as well, so he can't help the moan from slipping out as his hips stutter with every spurt of cum that he fills you with. His head falls into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily against your sticky skin, still moving, still pressing himself in as deep as he can, like he wants to bury himself inside of you.
“Shit,” he curses, muffled and drawn out, panting and revelling in the feeling of your cunt still wrapped around him so tightly. “I’m never pulling out of you, just so you know.”
You chuckle as you bring your arms around his back, fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “You sure about that?”
He’s still breathing heavily and you feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin as he nods. “No doubt about it.” He lifts his head to look into your eyes. “Still mad at me?”
“Never was.”
Masterlist
A/N: Thank you so much for reading :] Please consider reblogging or commenting if you enjoyed, or if you're shy, feel free to send us an anonymous ask! <3
summary: It’s not like you have any claim over Namjoon, you’re just friends who fuck time to time— so technically, watching him flirt shamelessly on stage shouldn’t make your blood boil. His teasing comments about other girls shouldn’t leave a bitter taste in your mouth. You shouldn’t feel a lot of things about him… but maybe you just need to fuck those ideas and comments right out of his mind.
warning!— purely smut, literally zero plot . this story contains: unprotected sex, oral sex (m!&f! receiving), cowgirl, creampie. she’s a pro rider. switch namjoon!. — reader lowkey toxic, namjoon is down bad.
author’s note: well happy early birthday to me! broke the little hiatus to post this. i wrote this thirty minutes ago, not edited at all. okay bye!! see u next year!!
Jealousy looked ridiculous on other people.
You had always thought that.
Possessive girlfriends checking phones, girls crying in club bathrooms because some mediocre man looked at another woman for too long, couples fighting over things that ultimately meant nothing. You used to watch things like that happen with mild embarrassment, wondering how anyone could let themselves become so consumed by another person that a simple interaction could ruin their entire mood.
And yet there you were.
Standing backstage with a makeup sponge in your hand, trying not to feel irrationally irritated over a joke Namjoon had made less than ten minutes ago. Not even a real joke, barely a conversation.
One of the members had mentioned the sign in the crowd— a clever one with double meaning —and the whole thing had immediately spiraled into teasing because Namjoon’s reaction had apparently already gone viral online before the concert was even over. Someone joked about bringing NDAs back. Namjoon laughed. The conversation moved on.
That should’ve been the end of it. Instead, the thought had been sitting beneath your skin ever since, hot and ugly and impossible to ignore.
Not sadness. God, no. You weren’t sad. If anything, you were annoyed… annoyed that random women thought they could get his attention so easily. Annoyed that he even entertained it for a second. Annoyed because some stupid, deeply narcissistic part of you genuinely believed no one should’ve been able to hold his attention the way you did.
Which was insane considering Namjoon wasn’t yours, never had been.
You two had never even discussed whatever this thing between you actually was. Months ago, one drunken night had turned into another, then another after that, until eventually sleeping together became as natural as breathing. Neither of you asked for more. Neither of you pulled away either. It settled into something dangerously comfortable.
You worked around him constantly, which meant there were too many late nights, too many lingering touches, too many moments where he’d look at you like he knew something about you nobody else did. Somewhere along the way, your body started reacting to him before your brain could catch up. The sound of his laugh from another room. His rings tapping against tables. The lazy way he spread his legs whenever he sat down like he owned whatever space he occupied.
You hated how aware you were of him at all times.
More embarrassing still, Namjoon seemed just as aware of you.
By the time the concert finally ended and the staff cleared out for the ending ment pictures, your irritation had settled into something more serious and meaner which felt almost pathetic. You weren’t some jealous girl in love with a guy she couldn’t have. If anything, Namjoon should be worried about you getting bored of him first.
That thought settled you instantly.
Yes, that sounded better .
You kept yourself busy reorganizing your makeup products while everyone rushed around backstage. The noise slowly died down as people moved elsewhere, voices fading into distant echoes beyond the hallway.
Then the dressing room door opened again.
Namjoon walked in still glowing faintly with post-concert adrenaline, slightly wet hair pushed away from his forehead, his black Arirang shirt making him look softer than he meant to. He shut the door behind him with his foot and exhaled heavily.
“There’s my favorite employee,” he said tiredly.
You snorted softly without looking up. “You say that to every person that wipes your face for a living?”
“Only the mean ones.”
You heard him drop into the sofa in front of the vanity mirror with a groan. The familiar sound of rings clinking against the armrest followed immediately after.
For a second, neither of you said anything. It wasn’t awkward, you and Namjoon had passed awkward months ago. Now everything between you felt strangely domestic in the worst possible way, like you’d known each other too long, like your bodies had memorized each other before either of you realized it was happening.
You walked toward him with a bottle of micellar water and cotton pads, stopping between his spread knees.
His eyes flicked up to yours immediately. There was always that moment. That split second where his attention sharpened completely when you got close enough to touch him. You pretended not to notice it even though secretly it thrilled you every single time.
“Hold still,” you murmured, pressing the cotton pad against his cheek, harder than intended.
“Ow.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“You’re violent tonight.”
“You’re stupid tonight.”
Namjoon watched you for a second through the mirror while you grabbed another cotton pad, lazy but attentive in that way he always was with you. Like even relaxed, part of him is still focused entirely on you.
“You in a bad mood?” he asked.
“No.”
“That was quick.”
“Because it was a stupid question.”
“Mm.”
You move to remove the makeup around his eyes, tilting his chin slightly with your fingers. He let you, always let you.
“You know,” he said after a second, “most makeup artists are nicer to me.”
“Then go flirt with one of them too.”
The words left your mouth so naturally you barely register them. But Namjoon did. And you saw it immediately, that tiny shift in expression, not really surprise but interest.
Namjoon hissed quietly when you pressed the cotton pad against his cheek again, rough. “Jesus. Did I do something to you?”
“Your makeup separated.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
You ignored him, dragging the pad slowly beneath his eye. Up close, you could see the exhaustion settling into his features now that the stage lights were gone. Smudged eyeliner, flushed skin, slightly swollen lips from dehydration.
Pretty. Disgustingly pretty.
You hated that your first instinct around him was always hunger.
“You are staring again,” he said lazily.
“You look rough.”
“Wow.”
“It’s true.”
He laughed softly under his breath, head tilting back slightly while you wiped makeup from his jaw. His hands rested on his sides at first, relaxed, but eventually one drifted absentmindedly toward your thigh. Not grabbing but fingers tracing the back of your skin.
Like he needed some part of his body connected to yours at all times.
You should’ve moved him away. Instead, you let him.
“You were weird earlier,” he said after a moment.
“There were seventy thousand people screaming your name. I think you’d recover from me being weird.”
“Mhm.” His thumb brushed once against your leg. “Still weird though.”
You grabbed another cotton pad. “Maybe I was overwhelmed by your intense celebrity status.”
“There she is.”
“What does that mean?”
“That tone.” His mouth twitched slightly. “The one you got when you were pretending not to be annoyed.”
You rolled your eyes automatically, but the truth was Namjoon noticed you too easily. It was irritating. Sometimes you genuinely thought he studied you the same way people studied languages.. or prey.
“I’m not.”
“Is it about me?.”
“Hell, no.”
“So it is.”
“Your ego has gone insane lately,” you muttered.
“My ego?”
“Yeah, not everything is about you. God, men get attention once and start acting stupid.” You rolled your eyes.
It took him a moment to understand your comment. And you realized it too late.
Namjoon let out a surprised laugh. “That’s what this was about?”
You shrugged casually, focusing on removing the makeup near his neck. “What?.”
“That girl with the sign?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh my god,” he murmured.
“What?”
“You are jealous.”
The word landed between you heavily, not because it was true but because he sounded so pleased realizing it.
You scoffed immediately. “Please.”
“You are.” His smile grew slowly, eyes dragging over your face like he was putting pieces together in real time. “Holy shit.”
“Yes, I’m so jealous of a girl holding cardboard,” you said sarcastically.
“No?” His fingers tightened slightly against your thigh. “Then why had you been glaring at me for the last hour?”
“I always glared at you.”
“That’s true.”
You hated that he said it fondly.
The room suddenly felt warmer than before.
Namjoon leaned back in the sofa, watching you openly now, completely entertained by himself. By you. By this entire situation. It made something ugly flare inside your chest again. Because the worst part was he genuinely didn’t understand.
Namjoon flirted naturally. Breathed attention naturally. People orbited him constantly and he walked through it without thinking twice. But you knew him better than anyone else in this building did. You knew how different he got when he actually wanted something.
And lately, he’d wanted you constantly.
The late night texts. The unnecessary touching. The way his eyes searched for you first every time he walked into a room.
Sometimes you genuinely thought Namjoon would crawl inside your skin if you let him.
“You are thinking too hard,” he said softly.
You blinked back into the moment. His gaze was steady on you now, a little curious, a little too perceptive, a little dangerous.
Without really thinking, you set the makeup wipe down onto the vanity and stepped closer until you were straddling him, legs on each side of his thighs.
Namjoon’s eyes darkened immediately.
“There,” you murmured quietly. “That look.”
“What look?”
“The one where you think you figured me out.” Your fingers hooked beneath his jaw lightly, forcing his head back enough to keep him looking at you. “You get so cocky.”
His breathing changed almost imperceptibly. “You are the one on top of me now.”
“And you are the one letting me.”
Neither of you moved.
The tension sitting between you felt almost violent now. It wasn’t really romantic or too soft, it was something greedier than that, like the two of you were constantly trying to consume each other without admitting it out loud.
Namjoon’s hands slid higher along your thighs slowly. “You know what your problem is?” he asked quietly.
“What?”
“You think you owned me.”
You smiled slowly. “Wouldn’t you like that?.”
His eyes flicked down to your mouth instantly. That alone nearly drove you insane. There it was again, that overwhelming awareness he had of you, like no matter how many people screamed his name every night, he still looked at you like you were the only thing capable of actually holding his attention.
The thought stroked something deeply possessive inside you.
Good.
He should.
You leaned down until your mouths were barely apart, feeling his grip tighten instinctively against your thighs.
“Tell me something honestly,” you murmured against his lips. “Have any of those girls ever made you look at them twice?”
Namjoon went still.
Then his eyes lifted slowly back to yours. “No,” he said quietly.
The answer came too fast to be fake. Satisfaction curled warmly through your stomach. Your thumb dragged once across his lower lip before you finally smiled against his mouth.
“Thought so.”
And then you kissed him. And Namjoon kissed you back instantly.
Of course he did.
One of his hands slid up your thigh hard enough to leave warmth behind while the other moved to your waist, pulling you closer until your hips pressed against him. The angle felt really intimate, close enough that you could feel him growing beneath you.
You kissed him harder, possessively, like you wanted to prove him seomthing— something you didn’t know what yet. Maybe you did.
His mouth opened against yours with a quiet sound that nearly made something snap inside your chest. You hated how reactive he was with you sometimes. Hated how quickly his composure disappeared the second you touched him a certain way.
No one else got this version of him. The thought alone made your stomach tighten pleasantly.
Your fingers slid into his hair, tugging just enough to force his head back slightly. Namjoon exhaled sharply against your mouth, grip tightening on your waist immediately.
“There you are,” he murmured breathlessly, lips brushing yours again. “Didn’t know what reaction would get of you tonight.”
You laughed softly against his mouth. “You say that like this wasn’t your fault.”
“My fault?” His eyes opened briefly, dark and lazy beneath half-smeared eyeliner. “You were the one looking at me like you wanted to kill somebody.”
“Maybe I did.”
“Mhm.” His thumb dragged slowly against your hip beneath your clothes. “Violent and jealous. I never got this combination out of you.”
You kissed him again before he could keep talking. Mostly because you hated how smug he sounded, and mostly because you loved it too.
The kiss turned rough quickly after that, all teeth and heat and too much wanting crammed into one small dressing room backstage. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew someone could walk in eventually, but the possibility only made your pulse spike harder.
Namjoon’s hands wandered greedily over your body like he’d been thinking about touching you all night. Maybe he had been. You knew him well enough by now to recognize the signs— the slight loss of control, the way his breathing changed whenever he got too fixated on you.
Obsessive.
That’s what this thing between you two really was. Not love, not casual either, something ugly and tabu.
You pulled back just enough to look at him, fingers still tangled in his hair. His lips were swollen now, makeup almost completely ruined beneath your hands.
Pretty.
You liked him prettiest when he looked wrecked.
Namjoon watched you carefully from beneath heavy eyes, hands resting possessively on your thighs now like he expected you to stay exactly where you were.
“What?,” he muttered.
“You look better like this.”
“Like what?”
“Messed up.”
A slow smile pulled at his mouth. “You’re kind of sick, you know that?”
You leaned down again until your lips brushed the corner of his jaw. “You like that about me too.”
His grip tightened instinctively.
God.
The worst part was how perfectly you fit together in moments like this. Like every ugly possessive instinct inside both of you found relief whenever the other gave in first.
You kissed down his jaw slowly, feeling the way his body reacted underneath you immediately. The sound he made was quieter this time, almost swallowed by the room itself. Satisfied warmth spread through your chest. Good. He should react to you like this.
Your hands slid down from his shoulders, over his chest, lower until your fingers hooked briefly against the waistband of his pants. The movement made Namjoon’s head tilt back against the chair slightly, eyes fixed on you the entire time now. Not teasing anymore, focused, hungry.
“You’re acting jealous.”
You smiled against his throat. “And what?.”
His hand slid up your back slowly. “You really couldn’t stand it?”
“The idea of you entertaining random girls?” You pulled back just enough to look at him again, fingers toying lazily with the button of his pants. “Please.”
Namjoon watched your hands carefully, then your face, like he was trying to figure out which one he wanted more.
“You’re possessive,” he murmured.
You hummed lightly. “Don’t you like it?.”
Something dark flickered across his expression at that, not discomfort but more like enjoyment. He liked you like that. Because Namjoon was exactly the same for you.
“I do,” he simply said. “I like everything you do.”
You couldn’t stand him.
Your hand immediately unbuckle his pants, slowly putting them down. Your eyes still fixed on his face. Namjoon’s eyes were dark. He was losing it too.
“Touch yourself for me,” you whispered to him.
Namjoon could come from your voice only.
You kissed his neck slowly, moving away until you were finally kneeling between his legs. You looked up as he started pumping himself over his clothes, getting harder at the sight of you. He groaned breathily, eyes getting lazier and hand moving a little harder. You could see the wet spot just right where his linen tip was, hitting his underwear so softly it made it look delicious.
You moved your hands to his thighs, slowly creasing them until you reached to his underwear. He threw his head back when your fingers touched his clothed cock, teasing him slightly with the tip of your fingers, rubbing them up and down to feel it in your hand. He tried not to moan when your hand finally wrapped around it, and pulled it down. Namjoon looked delicious. His cocked jumped out hitting his long shirt. His cock was big, veiny and looked so pretty. You couldn’t wait to put it in your mouth, missing it after days of not touching each other.
Your hand moved the base of his cock, squeezing it slightly. His veins bulged under the skin, thick and ridged, pulsing when you gave another tentative squeeze. One fat vein snaked right along the underside, throbbing harder every time your thumb brushed over it.
“Shit— that feels good.” his hips jerked into your hand involuntarily, and he threw his head back, breathing ragged. “S-sorry. You’re doing s’good.”
He was hard as a rock and his tip was shinny with pre cum and red, begging to be taken care of.
You stuck out your tongue, slowly licking from the base to the head of his cock. His back arched slightly, head thrown back as he gripped the sofa. “Look at me,” you demanded. And he did. “I want you to look at me while I make you feel good.” Your lips kissed his mushroom tip. “I want you to remember who makes you feel this good.”
He was going to cum so fast.
Your lips wrapped around his tip before sucking it in. Namjoon tried not to throw back his head back to the sofa, mind getting dizzy. You started sucking his cock so slow and hard that he felt like it was the first time he was receiving a blowjob. You could see the satisfaction in his eyes, in a way he liked you like that, possessive, sick to prove a point.
Namjoon was losing his mind. Mouth opened, his fingers sinking into your hair to push you closer to his cock, trying to take some control over the situation. His cock popped past your lips with a wet sound, thick and hot on your tongue. You tasted skin and salt and him, his veins dragging along the flat of your tongue as he pushed deeper, inch by inch disappearing into the wet heat of your mouth.
Your tongue circled his cock tightly before sucking again, he gritted his teeth hard at the sensation. Your right hand squeezed the beginning of his cock, moving it up and down as you sucked his tip with determination.
Namjoon felt so close.
No. Wait.
There wasn’t too many things that bothered Namjoon’s mind. Lately, the list had reduced to just two. The first one was you, you and the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about whatever was going on between you two— the second one he couldn’t remember right now.
Namjoon knew he was fucked. The moment you got drunk one night months ago and you finally let him touch you the way he had dreamed for months. It was game over for him. But he knew there was something between you two that couldn’t be tamed in the moment. There was a missing commitment that he knew you two weren’t able to get in that time. Still, it bothered him that maybe you could be seeing other people.
He could too, but he didn’t want to.
He only wanted you. He only wanted to make you feel good. He only wanted to touch you. He only wanted to talk to you.
Only you.
There was no one else in his mind except you. And in that moment, specially in that moment, there was absolutely no other thought that making you feel good, making you feel like you actually belonged to someone, him. He liked you like that, crazy in your feeling, not knowing why you were acting like that. So possessive over someone you didn’t know you wanted.
Namjoon was a patient man. He could wait for you to find out.
But he wasn’t so patient about other things.
“Umm— wait, wait.” He pulled you from your hair. Looking at you kneeling in front of him. Mouth swollen, lips red, a line of saliva connecting you to his hard cock. “I’ll cum inside you— I wanna make you feel good first.”
“But—”
“Stand up,” he demanded you. “I said I wanna make you feel good first.”
Namjoon didn’t give you too much time to think, pulling you from your arms and pushing you to the counter in front of the mirror. He took a seat on the chair. His hands moved your skirt to your hips and he quickly made you sit in the cold wood, opening your legs to see what he most desired. He put himself between your legs, panties already soaked. Even as your chest rose and fell, you held yourself up, letting him put your feet on the edge of the desk and spread your legs apart completely.
His rough palm caressed your thighs before he started biting them, plump lips marking your skin.
“Joon—”
“Yes. Now moan my name, baby. Gonna touch what is mine.” He said, eyes dark as he looked at your panties and your cute wet mound sticking to the material. His thumb stroking your inner thigh. “Already soaked, you’re always this ready for me, huh.”
“Yes, always ready for you.” You nodded, already fucked up by his touch.
“Good. Now you know who owns you.”
He easily hooked a finger and slid your panties to the side, leaning down, tongue sticking out as he licked a wet strip up your sweet cunt.
“F-fuck!—”
And before you could even properly moan he was wrapping his arms around your thighs, shoving his face even deeper making you jolt and whimper loudly.
He wasn’t soft and didn’t go slow. Namjoon was hungry. Intoxicated of you.
His hands went to the back of your thighs to hold you in place and he went straight to suck your clit. You threw your head back and moaned. His tongue flattened to moved it around your clit, trying to stimulate you more. He was going crazier than before, hungrier, hornier. His teeth trying to grabbed your clit and making you moan louder at the sensation.
His lips started kissing your pussy before licking your entrance with desperation, his tongue tried to reach your insides while his nose moved around your clit. He kept doing that for a couple of minutes. He couldn’t see you anymore, only being able to hear you while he was making out with your pussy. He was making a mess with his face, trying to drink all your juices and making you feel good.
He went back to your clit, sucking with more vigor now, wanting more every time. Your fingers buried in his hair, slightly pulling off them before pressing his head harder to your core. Looking for more friction. He moaned at your desperation, looking to come undone. He could swear he was about to come untouched.
“Mhmm, s’good— Baby I’m gonna—”
He suddenly stopped, making you whine.
It took everything in him not to go back to finish his job. But he wanted you to come undone in his cock. He knew how he wanted to wrecked you.
Namjoon didn’t even clean his mouth to kiss you, lips moving hungrily over yours before taking a seat back to the sofa. Legs spread wide, jeans down to his the middle of his thighs and cock looking red and hard pointing at the ceiling. He looked so good like that, waiting for you to take what was yours.
He patted his thighs. “Come on now. Take whatever you want, baby.”
In less than a second you were straddling him again, kissing him messily to prove him you were going to do exactly what he said do. You were going to take whatever you want, whatever that was yours.
“I want you.”
With your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, you bucked your hips up, eyes locked on the way his length gleamed with his pre-cum, drooling from his tip so yummy. It was all so lewd, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. Your hips moved slightly upward. You grabbed his cock with one hand so you could line it up at your entrance. Your other hand pressed down hard on his abs, throwing your head back as you slowly lowered down to take him.
“I said take it. Take it like you mean it,” Namjoon didn’t let you take it slow. He moved his hips upward with strength so you could take him the way he wanted you too. Hard and mean. “Take it like it’s yours— Uhm, y-yes, yes. Like that— uhmm.”
You whimpered when he filled you up. Feeling every vain, every inch of him inside you. His fat tip touching your favorite spot.
Slowly, you lifted your hips, then bring them back down again, trying to find a good pace. His jaw clenched a little and he pinched at your waist, and then his own hips bucked up against yours so you did the same thing again until you found a steady pace and before long, you were bouncing up and down on his cock.
You started to ride him. Moving slowly up and down at the beginning so you could get use to his length. It always felt like the first time you two fucked. It felt so good, stretching you completely. His big fat cock, you could feel every vein and twitch inside you. His warm, it felt so good wrapped around you
“It’s mine,” you said. Fucked up already. Too drunk of him, too honest. “You’re m-mine.”
He looked at you, eyes already too gone. He looked mean, like a dragon. “Then do a better job. Ride me good.” He slapped your thighs
You whined at his mean words before starting to fuck him faster and moving your hips better.
The sounds were obscene. His cock plunging into your wetness with each bounce of your knees, the sofa moving dramatically against the floor. Your clit hitting the lower part of his stomach in such a right way. You could feel your juices dripping on him making an even bigger mess.
You didn’t care. You didn’t care if people were waiting for him or how much time it would take to clean off all the mess. You just cared about showing him he could t find anyone better. No one could make him feel better than you, no one could do a better job than you.
“Come on, baby.” He slapped your ass. “Gonna make me do all the hard work?”
“Shut— shut up.”
“Lazy girl, making me do everything.” He wrapped his left arm around your waist and with his right fingers he began to rub your clit, with intention. You moaned into his mouth and he took the opportunity to insert his tongue into your mouth, licking every part of you. Tasting every inch of you. He was the one leading, as always.
“No, no—”
“Uhmm, you feel good.” He bit down your jaw until he reached for your neck, leaving bruises with his lips. “S’kay, lemme take care of you now, okay?.”
He started fucking you, moving his hips upward faster and meaner. His dirty fingers left your clit and grabbed your hair to kiss you again. You moaned in his mouth, his lips eating you with lust and hunger. His arm around your waist grabbed you in a possessive way, tighter, leaving bruises, pushing you down every time his hips went upward to slammed into yours. The sounds were almost pornographic, it felt too good, too much.
Namjoon kissed your mouth again before his fingers buried themselves in your hair and he pull it hard, making you throw your head back. He started kissing and biting your jaw and neck, leaving more marks on your skin.
You were his. Only his.
You moaned loud when he hit the right spot inside you, not caring if anyone outside could hear you. You hoped they will. That way they’ll know you were the one to get him see like that, you were the only one he get to touch and kiss like that.
He was being so good to you, hitting the right places, making you break apart. Your knees began to slip slightly, your thighs burning, no longer having almost any strength to keep going. You pulled his hair and started kissing his neck too, you wanted to leave marks too, even if you shouldn’t. Even if you really shouldn’t. He knew you shouldn’t. It was wrong, it was dangerous— But fuck it made it more hot.
It made him go insane the fact the you wanted to mark him as yours too.
He was. He was yours. He so badly wanted to be.
Namjoon moved his hand on your hair to grabbed your neck. His fingers pressing hard around the lower part of your neck, his cold rings against your sweaty skin. You opened your mouth to complain but his gripped hardened around you, becoming almost difficult to breathe correctly.
“Say it— say it.” His lips ghosted yours but he didn’t kiss you, just teasing you. “Say ya’ mine. Moan my name— shit, s’ good— moan my name and say you’re mine.” You whined and he smirked slightly before slamming his hips harder onto yours, fucking you faster, meaner. “Say it for me, baby. S-shit, you’re takin’ me s’good — Say you’re mine, p-please…”
You squeezed him so good he was losing it. His mouth found yours again. He could feel your warm and wetness swallowing his cock. He feel every inch of you wrapped around him. It was so good. It was perfect. You were perfect.
You cried out. “I’m yours.”
Namjoon felt your walls squeezing him harder. He moaned in your neck, you were sucking him so hard it was too much. He rubbed your clit desperately, helping you find your release. It didn’t take you too long to do so. Your high hit you like a truck, your nails scrapped his shoulder, your mouth parting to moan loudly. You closed your eyes, walls closing so hard and your juices coating his cock. Your vision went blurry, your breathing uneven. Your thighs burning like hell. You broke apart in his arms.
“I’m yours too.”
Namjoon’s cock twitched inside you with one last thrust. His eyes rolled back, his hands gripping your skin as he heard your whimper. That hit his final straw. His forehead hit your shoulder as he felt succumbing to the sweet release. He came undone, ropes and ropes of hot cum filling up your sloppy cunt and spurting down onto your thighs.
It felt so good. Having you in his arms, making a mess of you. You making a mess of him.
It took you both a couple of seconds to come back to reality. The high of that sensational high still feeling in the air.
You moved slightly away just enough to be able to rest your forehead in his shoulder. Namjoon pushed you slightly closer, still inside you. His hand rubbing your back sweetly.
“You know,” he said softly, voice a little rough and tired, “this is a crazy reaction to a cardboard sign.”
You snorted, feeling insanely embarrassed.
But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter anymore what label you and Namjoon had. You knew he was yours anyway.
you know exactly what inspired this….. okay bye!! hiatus back on!!
genre: idol!wonwoo, nonidol!reader, mention of nudes, kisses, menace reader
word count: 755~
the sun was blazing over the resort pool, but it did nothing to warm the sulky cloud hanging over you.
you lay stretched out on the sunbed in your sleek black bikini, the one that hugged every curve like it was custom-made for trouble. your phone rested on your stomach, screen dark for the tenth time that hour.
wonwoo’s last text had been a dry “busy with soundcheck, miss you” four hours ago.
sohee dropped into the lounger beside you, cocktail in hand, sunglasses perched on her head.
“okay, spill. you’ve been staring at that phone like it personally betrayed you for three days straight. what did your fiancé do this time?”
you sighed, swirling the straw in your own drink.
“he’s just… short. one-word answers. voice notes that end in two seconds. i know the tour’s exhausting, but I’m starting to feel like an afterthought.”
sohee smirked, that dangerous little smile she got when an evil plan was forming.
“men are so predictable. especially when they’re away and think they have everything under control.”
she leaned in, lowering her voice even though no one was around. “send him a picture. right now. you in this bikini. view once. make it impossible for him to ignore.”
you blinked. “sohee—”
“trust me. he’ll either reply like a normal human or book the next flight. probably both. they act all cool until you remind them what’s waiting at home.”
you chewed your lip, heat crawling up your neck that had nothing to do with the sun.
the bikini did look lethal on you. after a moment of hesitation, you angled your phone, took a few shots arched back, one hand in your hair, sultry half-smile and picked the best one.
View once. Sent.
you tossed the phone aside and tried to act normal. sohee just cackled and clinked her glass against yours.
fifteen minutes later, your phone rang.
wonwoo’s name flashed on the screen.
you answered with a lazy grin. “hello, stranger.”
“baby” his voice was low, a little breathless. “send it again.”
you laughed softly. “oh? the picture’s gone already? That’s crazy.”
“i know you did it on purpose.” He sounded equal parts amused and desperate. “come on. just once more.”
you sat up, enjoying this far too much. “you barely texted me for days, wonwoo. short replies, no calls… and now you’re demanding pictures?” you made a thoughtful hum. “i think compensation is in order.”
“name it.”
your smile widened. “kisses. through the phone, until i say stop.”
there was a half-second pause—then the soft, unmistakable sound of him kissing the speaker. once. teice. slow, deliberate, almost embarrassingly sincere.
he kept going, murmuring between each one, “miss you… want you here… love you…” in that deep, velvet voice that always melted you.
you bit your lip, cheeks burning. “more, convince me you’re sorry.”
he obeyed like a well-trained puppy, kissing the phone again and again without complaint.
on the other side of the world, in the green room backstage, mingyu and seungkwan froze mid-conversation.
wonwoo was sitting on the couch, phone held close to his face, eyes half-closed, repeatedly pressing his lips to the screen with soft little sounds.
mingyu’s water bottle stopped halfway to his mouth.
seungkwan’s eyes went comically wide. “hyung… are you… making out with your phone right now?”
wonwoo didn’t even flinch, too focused. “Shh.”
your voice suddenly floated out from the speaker, playful and teasing. “Keep going and maybe I’ll send you the bikini one again… plus a couple without the bikini this time.”
mingyu choked.
seungkwan let out a scandalized squeak before dissolving into laughter, nearly falling off the arm of the couch. “nude pics?! Yah, keon Wonwoo! in the green room!”
Wonwoo finally lowered the phone, ears bright red, but the tiniest smirk played on his lips. He looked completely unbothered by his members howling at him.
“laugh all you want,” he said calmly, already typing something back to you. “at least I have a fiancée who sends me pictures like that.”
mingyu wheezed. “he’s not even ashamed!”
seungkwan clutched his stomach. “hhe stoic wonwoo hyung is down bad. Someone take a picture—wait, no, he might kiss that one too!”
wonwoo just shook his head, phone already ringing again as he stood up to find a quieter corner. he didn’t care that he was the group’s laughing stock for the rest of the day.
he had you waiting on the other end of the line.
and he was booking that flight the second the tour schedule allowed.
⤷ meeting jungkook at yoongi’s birthday was unexpected, but in less than twenty-four hours, he made you feel more alive than you have in years. letting him into your life felt just natural, but that doesn’t mean it’s simple. as you slowly get to know him, you find yourself trusting him more… but should you really? or is he hiding something from you?
— pairing: jungkook x fem. reader
— genre: strangers to lovers, ceo au, biker au, slow burn, angst, fluff, and smut
— rating: 18+
— words: 24,418
— warnings: alcohol consumption, kind of tipsy, jungkook can’t keep his eyes off our girl, mention of divorce, nervousness, mention of grief, mention of heartbreak, mention of breakup, mention of loneliness, some awkwardness, swearing, teasing, mention of crying, a kind of little argument, they’re both stubborn, kind of self sabotage, mention of masturbation, mention of death, lots of kissing, fingering, protected sex, penetrative sex, good old missionary, and multiple orgasms
— author’s note: soooo, this fic’s idea popped up really randomly and i simply started writing it 😊 this fic is honestly pure softness, but also messy at the same time. the point here is to depict someone who struggles with love after spending sooo long by herself, and she falls for someone who lets her guide the pace… biker jungkook had to be part of this, of course! this fic isn’t made to be perfect, it’s actually the opposite. honestly, i hope you all find a jungkook like this one in your lives 💖 wanted to aslo tell you that this fic will be fully written from oc's perspective, and there aren't any glimpses of jungkook's thoughts. also, special shoutout to @kooppss for her support!! she got to see this fic being written and how it changed 😅 hope you’ll enjoy it my loves 💖
SERIES MASTERLIST | PART II
The night is slowly settling, the sky taking on shades of red as the blue gets darker. For a brief moment, your eyes look up, a smile stretching on your face. The sky is beautiful tonight.
Right now, you’re waiting for your best friend outside the restaurant, as you agreed with her some hours ago. While you do so, a handsome man catches your attention. His eyes meet yours for a hot second before he steps inside the restaurant.
“Yn,” someone screams.
A bright smile grows on your face as you look to your right. Hyunri, your best friend, has finally arrived.
“Hyunri,” you say before holding her in your arms.
Tonight, you’re gathering to celebrate Yoongi’s birthday. Juhee, his wife and your best friend, has pulled out this little dinner to celebrate his 40th birthday. Anyone else would have probably asked for a big celebration, but it’s not his style. He prefers intimate dinners filled with loved ones.
“Did you wait long?” she asks when you break apart.
“No,” you reply. “Maybe a minute.”
She smiles at you. It’s been a while since you last saw her, which only heightened how much you missed her. She studied with you before you worked in the same company for a while, and last year she quit. Since then, you haven’t been seeing each other that much even though you speak every day.
Before she even gets the chance to do or say anything else, you grab her hand to take a proper look at her wedding ring. Her boyfriend proposed two days ago in the most romantic and beautiful way.
“Let me see the beauty,” you tell her.
Your eyes sparkle with joy. Hyunri deserves all the happiness in the world. She’s kind of crazy, but for sure, a woman with a big heart. No matter what, you can count on her. She’d even commit a crime for you if you ever asked.
“Woow,” you say. “It’s even prettier than in the pictures.”
“I know, right?” she asks while moving her hand to make the diamond sparkle.
“Must have cost a lot,” you say.
“But I deserve expensive shit,” she says.
You chuckle, but she’s right. She does deserve that.
“Right,” you shake your head while smiling even more.
Nothing has been decided just yet, but they’re planning on getting married next summer. They have more than a year to get everything settled. Honestly, you can’t wait for their big day. You know it’ll be mindblowing and extravagant like she is.
“Now, let’s get inside before Juhee kills us,” you tell her.
She giggles as the two of you head inside. The restaurant seems absolutely fancy—the type of place where the meal's presentation looks better than a painting. But it’s a once-in-a-while experience.
“Hello,” the host greets you once inside.
“Hello, we’re here for Min Yoongi’s birthday,” Hyunri says.
Your best friend is the social butterfly. The two of you are total opposites, like the moon and the sun. Nonetheless, you’re quite the duo. A lot of times, you wonder how on earth the two of you get along, but then you realize how much you complete each other, and your friendship just makes sense.
“Yes,” he offers you a bright smile. “Follow me.”
The man guides you to the huge terrace in the back, which basically looks like a garden. There is a rather long table placed on one side, and you recognize Juhee and Yoongi at the center. A bright smile grows on your face when you see them. Both you and Hyunri head to them, not paying any attention to the other people around the table.
“Happy birthday, Yoongi,” you and Hyunri tell him as you step up to him.
He stands up immediately, pulling you both into a warm hug before stepping back with an easy smile and thanking you for the warm wishes.
It’s genuinely great to see him again. He’s always been kind, and you’re glad you met him through Juhee. They definitely make a great couple; they just fit perfectly together. Sometimes, if you’re honest, you feel a tiny flicker of envy.
“Thanks, girls,” he says with a bright smile, gesturing toward the table. “Sit wherever you want.”
For the first time, you take a proper look at the table. Your eyes move across the guests, scanning the empty seats. Then, to your surprise, you see the handsome guy from outside. Now that he’s closer to you, he seems even prettier. Is it even possible?
You’re not sure if it’s destiny or a pure coincidence, but the only two remaining seats are the ones in front of him.
She just sits down while talking to Yoongi, completely unbothered, which leaves you right across from the handsome guy. You pull your chair back, placing your bag down by your feet before finally looking up.
He’s already watching you.
For a brief second, you meet his eyes without flinching. There’s a flicker of recognition there, and then, slowly, the corner of his mouth lifts. His gaze is intense on you, and it’s honestly hard to simply look back at him.
You glance around the table, trying to avoid his gaze and looking for the bottle of wine. You’ll definitely need it to survive the night if you’re going to have the handsome stranger in front of you.
When you find it, you just pick it up and fill your glass. While Hyunri is still deep in conversation with Yoongi, you fill her glass as well. It’s no secret that she adores wine. She could drown in it if she could.
“Thanks,” she murmurs when she notices it.
“No problem,” you reply.
You don’t look back right away. You let the conversation around you settle, letting yourself blend into the rhythm of the table. You need some time and courage to interact with people. It usually drains your soul, so you definitely need some time before engaging with people around you.
When you lift your gaze again, he’s still looking at you. This time, you don’t look away as quickly. You bring the glass of wine to your lips, never looking away, and this moment is long enough to notice the way his gaze doesn’t waver, and how he doesn’t seems worried about being caught. It’s like he’s even happy that you noticed it.
Then, he looks away first. You blink and let out a quiet breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
Conversation starts to settle around you—people picking up threads, asking questions, passing drinks down the table. The man next to you, Hoseok, starts to talk to you as well. He’s an absolute ray of sunshine, always throwing jokes.
But no matter what, your attention keeps slipping back to the hot stranger. It’s like your body knows you’re being watched and you need to catch it. It’s never obvious, but it’s frequent enough that you start noticing a pattern. A glance when you laugh. Another one when you speak.
“Okay,” Hyunri murmurs after a while, leaning just enough for her shoulder to brush yours.
“What?” you ask with evident curiosity, your gaze looking at the plate in front of you.
“The guy in front of you,” she continues, “he keeps looking at you.”
You let out a small and dismissive huff. “No, he doesn’t.”
“Oh, he does,” she replies.
You shake your head, reaching for your glass. The fact that she noticed how frequently he looks at you makes you feel a bit uncomfortable and shy.
“You’re imagining things,” you dismiss her once again before taking a sip of wine.
The second you glance up again, there he is, looking at you. You don’t drop your gaze immediately. You hold it for a beat before finally looking away.
Her lips stretch into a smile, but you shake your head. The smug smile on her face almost makes you laugh. Any chance she gets, she tries to patch you up with someone. If she could, she’d make you date the entire world. You know it comes from a good place, but you’re just so introverted.
“Shut up,” you say, nudging her lightly under the table.
She instantly giggles, definitely enjoying herself.
“And he’s definitely hot,” she adds.
“Hyunri,” you warn her. “Don’t.”
“I’m just saying,” she replies. “He’s into you, and you should try talking to him.”
You look away, avoiding both her and his gazes. This is so strange, and it doesn’t really make you comfortable. Of course, it feels good to have a man looking at you so intently, but you’re not used to it. It hasn’t happened a lot in the past four years.
“Please,” she literally begs.
You take a deep breath before saying, “Okay, I’ll try.”
She smiles widely with happiness, and it warms your heart. You know you’ll have to interact with him at least once; otherwise, she’ll end up annoying you for the rest of your life.
The evening stretches on, the energy softening as food and drinks are being served and conversations split into smaller groups. At some point, Hoseok turns toward you with an easy smile.
“How do you know Yoongi?” he asks.
You turn slightly toward him. “Through his wife, Juhee. We’re coworkers.”
“Oh really?”
You nod. “She had started dating him when I joined the company, so I got the whole Juhee-Yoongi package straight away.”
He chuckles while shaking his head.
“Yeah, they’re quite the couple.”
“And you?”
He starts explaining how he met Yoongi years ago, together with a certain Jungkook. They were neighbors when they were younger. Their moms were close friends, and the three of them always hung out together. They still do it today. You carefully listen to him, not bothering to ask who the third guy is.
For a moment, you even forget the man in front of you. You’re so deep in the conversation with Hoseok, and you're more than glad to learn a bit more about Yoongi. You’ve only known him as an adult, and it seems so weird to discover who he was as a kid and teenager.
Hoseok then starts to explain how he ever found out about Juhee. His story is very similar to what she told you, but you’re hearing Yoongi's side, which is more than interesting. They were roommates, he was in a relationship, and she was in love with him.
“Even if he didn’t want to admit it, Yoongi was so into Juhee.”
The voice comes from across the table, cutting gently into the conversation. You look up. It’s him. He’s leaning forward just slightly now, his attention fully directed at you.
“Yeah,” Hoseok adds. “He was always talking about her when he was still dating this Jennifer.”
Juhee always makes fun of Yoongi for having dated this Swedish girl for a while. She likes to say that he wanted to try something exotic just to poke him, and he really goes with it. He’s totally in love with his wife, which you find absolutely adorable.
“And how did he react when she confessed to him?” you ask with curiosity.
Your best friend told you that after two years of being roommates, she finally confessed to him, but he totally dismissed her as he was still with this Jennifer.
“Oh man,” Hoseok laughs.
A hint of amusement flashes in the eyes of the guy in front of you. “He panicked.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Really?”
“He came to my place, totally freacking out because he didn’t know what to do. He clearly wasn’t in love with Jennifer, but knew how down bad he was for Juhee.”
“Jungkook told him to break up with Jennifer,” Hoseok begins.
“But he clearly didn’t listen to me,” the man in front of you finishes.
So, he’s the famous Jungkook, which makes sense. He wouldn’t have randomly jumped into your conversation.
“Seems like he eventually did,” you add.
Jungkook sincerely smiles before saying, “Because I kept repeating it every day.”
You chuckle, your gaze deep into his. Hoseok glances between the two of you, smiling slightly as if he’s picked up on something.
“I’m glad he listened to you,” you reply. “I wouldn’t have met him if he didn’t.”
Everything would have been so different, but you know that eventually, Yoongi and Juhee would have found their way to each other. They were roommates and madly in love.
There’s a brief pause, but it’s not awkward at all.
You’re both looking at each other, as if the world around had completely vanished. Hoseok then continues talking, but you don’t really listen anymore, too captivated by Jungkook. Eventually, you glance away, focusing on the conversation about how everything started between your best friend and her husband.
Jungkook ends up asking if you were at their wedding, which you weren’t. Your sister was getting married a day before in Italy, and you couldn’t make it to Juhee and Yoongi’s marriage. It saddened you back then, but it’s fine. They never resented you for that, and they showed you all the wedding’s pictures, which made it feel like you were there with them.
As the night keeps going, you talk with everyone around you and keep drinking wine. At some point, you can clearly feel the effect of the alcohol in your system, but you don’t really care. You’re not driving tonight. However, you’re clearly conscious that you need to slow down. Otherwise, you’ll get wasted before the end of the party.
The huge cake with the candles arrives, and you celebrate Yoongi’s birthday. He seems genuinely happy, and it fills your heart that he wanted you to be present at this special day for him. For a brief moment, your eyes meet Jungkook’s, and an odd warmth spreads throughout your body.
Right after eating the cake, Hyunri has to leave and makes you promise that you’ll let her know once you’re home. You’re left alone, but honestly, it doesn’t worry or scare you at all. Hoseok has proven himself to be a great company, together with Jungkook. The three of you talked a lot, and you have to admit that they’re funny.
Jungkook’s constant gaze on you makes you feel more and more desirable, and you wish the night would never stop.
By the time the night starts winding down, the terrace feels different. People are slowly leaving in small groups, chair scraping softly, and goodbyes stretching longer than they need to. When almost everybody has left the restaurant, you decide to do the same. It’s already late, and you should probably go back home.
You say your goodbyes to Yoongi and Juhee, thanking them again for the invitation. She tells you that you should definitely organize something sometime. Outside work, you haven’t seen each other in a while, and you also miss their daughter, Bora, whom you consider your niece. You absolutely need to organize something.
Somehow, without really planning it, you end up outside with Jungkook.
The night air is cooler now, brushing against you as you see everybody splitting and leaving. For a second, it’s just the two of you standing there. He glances at you, hands slipping casually into his jacket, but you don’t dare to look back at him; your gaze is on the building standing in front of you.
“How are you getting home?”
The question catches you a bit off guard, making you finally look at him. With his jacket on, he looks even more like sin. This man looks way too good.
“By taxi,” you say. “Or I’ll check if there’s still any bus running.”
He nods once, like he expected that answer, and you decide to pull your phone out of your handbag. Then, after a brief pause, he tilts his head slightly.
“I can drop you off, if you want,” he proposes, his eyes still glued on you.
It takes you a couple of seconds to process what he just said. Your eyes meet his once more while you lock your phone.
“You have a car?” you ask.
He shakes his head before he gestures behind him. You follow his gaze, and under the streetlight, a bike is parked. It’s honestly a very beautiful one, but you haven’t really seen many bikes in your life. They never really caught your attention whenever you’d see one.
“Oh.”
You look back at him, your gaze taking in the man standing next to you. Jungkook being a biker totally makes sense, and it definitely matches his aura. In fact, the opposite would have surprised you.
You should probably say no—that would be the most reasonable thing to do. This man is a total stranger to you, and on top of that, you’ve never been on a bike. It clearly sounds dangerous. And also, being on a bike clearly doesn’t sound like the best option, as you’re clearly under the influence of alcohol. You could throw up at any given moment.
But instead, you hear yourself ask, “You always offer rides to people you just met?”
His lips stretch in a smile, his little dimples appearing on his cute face.
“Only the ones I end up talking to at Yoongi’s birthday,” he simply says.
Before you can overthink it, you simply nod.
The two of you walk to the bike in pure silence, but his heavy presence next to you doesn’t go unnoticed. It feels strangely intimate to be alone with him after the way he looked at you all night.
Once you’re standing next to it, Jungkook takes two helmets out from what look like cases attached to the engine. He hands you one that you take with a certain hesitation, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest second.
“Ever been on one?” he asks. You shake your head, and it’s answer enough for him. He rests his helmet on the bike before taking yours from your hands. “Let me help you out then,” he says.
With the gentlest movements, he pushes your hair back, the touch of his fingers on you sending shivers down your spine. He’s so gentle with you right now. Once he’s happy with the result, he places the helmet over your head and pushes it down. By reflex, your hands catch the bottom.
A proud smile grows on his face, and his eyes glow with something you can’t quite name. It’s like he’s proud to see you wearing a helmet. After that, your little handbag is put in his backpack as it clearly doesn’t sound logical to keep it in hand while he drives through the city. The only request he has as for you to carry it and he reassures you that he isn’t heavy.
When he hands it to you, your fingers brush his, and he even helps you to adjust it on your back. For a second, your eyes get lost in the sight in front of you. The big ass man is helping you out with such a simple thing. He’s definitely a very thoughtful person.
Then, in a couple of seconds, his helmet is on his head. After that, he asks you to put your address on his phone. The thought of him knowing where you live thrills you somehow. The hot guy from Yoongi’s party will know your address.
“Alright,” he says. “Just hold onto me, and lean with me when we turn, okay?”
After spending the entire night sharing looks, you’ll be very close to him, like body to body. Never in your life have you ever been that close with a stranger. It’s kind of scary and exciting at the same time, but you can’t back up now. You already agreed to this.
You nod like that’s completely normal, but it’s not. He climbs first and holds out his hand to you. With a bit of hesitation, you take his hand and climb behind him. It’s a little awkward at first, and you adjust your position until you feel somewhat stable. The seat is narrower than you expected.
Jungkook never once looks away from you, making sure that you’re all set and ready. He’s so close to you, and your heart is beating way too fast with nervousness. Being in a bike with a random guy makes you a bit nervous. If anything bad happens, you could get very badly injured.
“Don’t worry, okay?” he asks you.
Somehow, you trust him enough to believe you’re safe with him. If your parents ever found out that you’ve been on a bike, they’ll kill you. They are very old-fashioned and convinced that every biker dies on the road, which you don’t believe.
For a second, you hesitate, hands hovering uncertainly, and then, you place them on him. You’re absolutely unsure of where you’re allowed to place them, so they rest against his sides. Maybe this is the right way to hold onto a biker. You don’t know.
“You can hold tighter,” he says over his shoulder.
There’s something about the way he says it that makes your hesitation fade just a little. And so you do as he says. Your arms slide around him, your hands settling against his torso, and you feel immediately the solid warmth of him under your palms. His body is definitely toned.
Your breath catches. This man seems like a surprise box, and it feels like they keep coming. You’re unsure of what could happen next, but you wouldn’t mind finding out more about him.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
Your heart thuds in your chest, ready to leave at any moment. As if he’s feeling it, he grabs one of your fingers and gently taps it against his torso.
“If there’s anything, you can tap like this against me, okay?” he tells you.
“Okay.”
“I’ll be careful,” he adds.
You simply nod, even though you know he’s not going to see it. The engine starts beneath you, and you feel it everywhere—through the seat, through your legs, through the way your body is now pressed against his. And then, you’re moving. At first, it’s slow and careful as the bike eases into the street. You look around, taking in the houses and the people walking around.
But as soon as he picks up speed, everything changes.
The wind hits you, rushing past your body and pulling at your clothes. Instinctively, you tighten your hold on him, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. And instead of pulling away—like you would have done under any other circumstances—you lean in closer.
Your chest is now fully pressed against his back, your arms fully wrapped around him, and your eyes are closed as if you’re too scared. You can feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, the subtle shifts of his body as he moves, while he guides the bike with an ease that makes you trust him without thinking about it.
When you wrap yourself tighter around him, his hand brushes against yours in a comforting way. He’s trying somehow to reassure you, and it’s definitely working because you’re slowly opening your eyes again. From this perspective, the city looks different. Everything moves faster, and the lights feel brighter around you.
And as it appears in movies, being on a bike makes you feel more alive. It’s an indescribable feeling, but a welcome one.
Every time he turns, your body follows his naturally. Your body mirrors everything he does, which is normal with the way you’re clinging to him. You try not to hold onto him too tight, too scared to hurt him, while he guides you both through the city.
Honestly, you could get used to this.
Between the rush of the wind, the warmth of his body, and the quiet thrill sitting low in your chest, you realize you’re smiling.
At some point, the streets start to look familiar as you recognize the corner near your place, the small café that’s always closed too early, and the building across from yours. You almost wish you weren’t reaching your place.
The bike slows down, gradually at first, then more noticeably. The rush of wind softens into something gentler, and the city comes back into focus around you.
Then, he stops right in front of your building.
For a second, neither of you moves. The engine is still running beneath you, vibrating softly like the night hasn’t fully settled yet. Your arms are still around him, and your body is still close to his. Slowly, you become aware of it, and heat rushes through your body.
You loosen your grip, your hands lingering just a fraction longer than necessary before you pull them back. Jungkook doesn’t move, letting you do as you wish. You climb off the bike, your feet finding the ground as the world feels slightly steadier.
Jungkook cuts the engine, and silence falls into place.
You take off the helmet, running a hand through your hair, trying to fix it in a way that probably doesn’t make much difference. Your heart is still beating a little faster than usual, and your body is still holding onto the echo of the ride. It’s like you can still feel your body moving.
“Thanks,” you say, as you block the helmet under your arm. “That was really nice.”
Jungkook lifts the visor of his helmet to look at you. He doesn’t seem like himself when only his eyes are visible. It makes him look innocent, which you truly believe he isn’t.
“I’m glad you agreed to this,” he replies.
You nod, a small smile forming. “Yeah, me too.”
You’re standing close. Closer than you would be with someone you just met, but you’re close enough to notice the details again. His expression shifts slightly when he looks at you, his gaze not rushing away. This right here—his intense gaze on you, and him on a bike with a helmet on—makes your mind race crazily.
You never knew you were into bikers…
You glance toward your building to escape him and calm down your thoughts before looking back at him. Neither of you moves to leave.
“So…” you start, then stop. “I guess it’s time to go home.”
“Yeah,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he’s in a hurry to go.
A silence stretches between you, but it’s not awkward. It’s like something is waiting to happen, but neither of you is quite ready to be the first to move.
Your fingers wrap tighter around the helmet, your heart beating way too fast in your chest. Jungkook shifts his weight just slightly, his gaze flicking briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. It’s subtle, but not enough to notice. Your breath catches just for a second, and the air suddenly feels thicker.
You know that if you close the gap between you, you’ll let him do whatever he wants with you, which isn’t a great idea. You’re tipsy, and he’s a total stranger—who knows what he might do if you let him. So, before you start doing something stupid and silly, you take the backpack out to retrieve your own bag.
“This is yours,” you tell him.
Jungkook nods, grabbing the bag and putting it on his back.
“Can I have your phone?” he asks, which makes you frown.
Even though his question confuses you, you still hand it out to him. He types something, and seconds later, his phone starts ringing.
“Now you have my number if you ever want to get a ride again,” he says.
“Thanks,” you say as you get your phone back.
Without truly realizing it, you’re now very close to each other, and his eyes never look away from you. It’s still unsettling, but god, if you could, you’d let him do it for the rest of your life. You love the way he looks at you, even if it is too intense sometimes.
“Goodnight,” he says softly.
“Goodnight,” you repeat.
Neither of you moves right away, and you don’t want this night to finish just yet. It’s for sure one you’ll never forget. This simple ride was enough to make the night memorable, but Yoongi’s birthday party was just as amazing. This was definitely a good evening.
“I’ll see you around?” he asks.
It’s not quite a question, you know it. You smile, still feeling the echo of everything—the ride, the closeness.
“Yeah,” you say. “You will.”
He nods and then starts the bike again, the sound breaking the quiet, and within seconds, he’s pulling away and disappearing down the street. You stay there for a moment longer than you need to, replaying tonight’s events as if you need time to process everything that happened before getting inside.
Your mind can’t help but think about the way he looked at you, the way you held onto him, and the way the ride felt. You exhale softly, a small and involuntary smile appearing on your face.
As the cold air raises goosebumps all over your body, you decide to get inside. It’s time to go to bed, and you know already that tomorrow you’ll be completely dead. When you get older, it becomes harder to deal with the aftermath of a late night filled with alcohol. Thankfully, tomorrow is Sunday, which means a lot of rest.
When the door closes behind you, the silence that follows feels louder than it should. For a moment, you just stand there in the hallway, keys still in your hand. There’s a lingering warmth in your chest that doesn’t quite fade.
When you’re about to unlock your phone, you notice that his helmet is still in your hands. “Shit,” you whisper to yourself. You stare at it for a second, confused at first, but then it clicks. You never gave it back, too absorbed by his beauty.
You set it down on the kitchen counter and sit on a chair, running a hand through your hair as the whole ride replays itself again—his voice, the steady way he drove, and the way he said ‘goodnight’ like it wasn’t quite final.
You quickly send a message to Hyunri, letting her know you safely made it home. Then, a notification appears. There’s a new message.
jungkook 🏍️: you stole my helmet
You stare at the screen for a second, a smile returning on your lips. You can’t help but notice that he added a little bike next to his name, and it does something to your little heart.
you: not on purpose
The typing bubble appears almost immediately.
jungkook 🏍️: yeah, sure…
For a brief second, you don’t know whether he’s mad about it or not, so you try to think about what you could eventually reply. But before you can even type anything, another message comes through.
jungkook 🏍️: you didn’t need to steal my helmet to get another free ride 😊
jungkook 🏍️: you can simply ask
That makes you smile more than expected. You settle back on the chair, the helmet resting on the counter beside you, and it’s the proof of tonight’s wild turn.
you: i’m definitely going to ask for another ride 👀
Your heart is beating super fast in your chest. Jungkook makes you feel a certain way—one that you haven’t felt in years, and honestly, you don’t ever want it to stop.
jungkook 🏍️: i can give you another free ride when i pick it up tomorrow
Your entire body freezes when you read his message. He’s literally suggesting seeing you again tomorrow, and you’ve barely just said goodbye. Maybe Hyunri was right when she said that he liked you.
jungkook 🏍️: unless you’re planning to keep it
You feel yourself getting way too bold as you type your answer.
you: maybe
At that instant, your best friend sends you a thank-you message, telling you she’s glad you made it home safely. When she discovers who drops you off, she’ll go insane. In the end, you did more than talk with him. She’ll be proud of you, you’re sure of it.
jungkook 🏍️: do you intend on asking for more rides? 🤔
Well, you definitely would love to repeat this more often, but you can’t just say it now. You met him like five hours ago.
you: if you ever propose, i wouldn’t say no 😊
jungkook 🏍️: we’ll have to check about that tomorrow if you ever give me back my helmet
The silly smile on your face doesn’t fade away. This conversation with him feels incredible.
you: okay, so see you tomorrow then 😊
jungkook 🏍️: yes
The three dots appear and remain for a while before another message drops.
jungkook 🏍️: goodnight, yn
And this right here melts your heart. Not only because it’s a sweet message, but also because you can hear him say it, as he did minutes ago.
you: goodnight, jungkook
And just like that, you go to bed with the silliest smile on your face.
“Are we in a parallel universe?” Hyunri’s voice echoes in your apartment through your phone’s speakers. “What has happened to my best friend?”
Her words make you giggle. As always, she’s exaggerating everything, which only makes you roll your eyes.
“Why are you exaggerating like that?” you ask as you eat your breakfast.
Honestly, this morning you craved chocolate cereals, and you know it’s mostly due to the amount of alcohol you had last night. Always after getting drunk, you find yourself craving chocolate. On top of that, you’re also having a cup of coffee to help you out with the hangover. The aftermath of a night out at thirty doesn’t hit the same way as in your twenties.
“I’m not!!” she almost screams. “Wait, let me add Juhee.”
“Ri, no,” you tell her, but she doesn’t listen, of course, and adds your best friend.
“Hi guuuuuuurls,” Ju screams when she picks up the call. “How are you doing?” She seems full of energy, which makes you smile, even though you know that in a couple of minutes, you wouldn’t be smiling anymore, as they will be talking and raising too many questions related to Jungkook.
“I have to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the party,” Hyunri says.
“Why?” Juhee asks. “Did something happen?”
Is there any point in talking? No. Hyunri is going to say it anyway, and you’ll have to listen to them ranting about you as if you weren’t there.
“Our super friend here managed to get a hot babe’s number,” she teases.
“Don’t call him ‘hot babe’, it’s weird,” you tell her.
“What?” Juhee says. “How?”
You want to chuckle because her reaction is funny, but it’s best not to react at all.
“I’m still trying to figure it out, but as you can imagine, yn hasn’t said much.”
You roll your eyes for the millionth time since she called you. “Let me eat in peace,” you simply reply.
“We don’t care about that,” Juhee says. “We want details!”
Now you giggle before your eyes flutter shut for a moment. Souvenirs from last night flow through your mind. Jungkook seems to be the only thing your mind can even focus on at this moment.
“You actually know him,” you reveal. “It’s one of Yoongi’s closest friends. It’s Jungkook.”
“You should have seen the way he was always looking at her,” Hyunri continues without even letting you or Juhee speak. “He’s really into her.”
Your best friend seems very into what happened yesterday.
“Now, the best part was after the party…” she continues.
Thank god that it’s not a video call, otherwise she’d see the way you constantly roll your eyes. She’s definitely exaggerating everything. It’s like it’s the event of the year when there’s not really much to say.
“Wait…” Juhee then cuts Hyunri off. “Jungkook?”
Juhee must know tons of things about him, and most probably, she knows him well since he’s a close friend of Yoongi with Hoseok—based on what you found out yesterday.
“Yeah,” you simply reply.
Her reaction kind of surprises you. Is there something wrong with him?
“Is there anything we should know about him?”
Your heart is now beating super fast, too scared to hear something you wouldn’t like. For sure, whatever she says will impact the way you’ll see him, and in a couple of hours, you’ll be spending some time with him. Hopefully, she doesn’t have anything bad to say.
“Well…” she begins before pausing for a second. “Not sure if I’m supposed to be the one saying it, but he divorced like a year ago, and apparently, it’s been rough for him since then.”
Somehow, it’s not surprising that he was married, especially considering how thoughtful he was. And on top of that, he’s good-looking, so it mustn’t be difficult for him to find someone.
“What happened?” Hyunri asks with curiosity.
“Yoongi doesn’t speak much about it, nor does Jungkook, but from what I understood, they simply grew apart,” she explains. “But now, back to what happened yesterday, I want to know everything. Yoongi will be happy when I tell him about this.”
A smile spread across your face as you imagine your best friend telling her husband about this. “After the party, he dropped me off with his bike,” you summarize yesterday’s events.
“Annnnnd?” Hyunri tries to push you to reveal more.
“It was cool,” you say. “I’ve never been on a bike, so it was cool to live the experience.”
“You’re annoying, yn,” Juhee says. “We want to know more than that.”
“Fine,” you take a very deep breath. “He gave me his number, and I’m seeing him again today.”
Both girls scream with happiness on the other side of the phone, clearly trying to make you deaf. They really are unbelievable. However, their reaction definitely makes you happy because you know they’ve always been supportive of you. And now, they’ll definitely do everything they can to encourage you to see Jungkook as often as possible.
“I should have introduced you to him years ago!” Juhee says with enthusiasm.
“Well, if he was married, it wouldn’t have changed anything,” you reply.
“Yeah, right… He was indeed already taken,” she seems kind of defeated. “Still, now, you’ve got to meet him, and you can’t do anything stupid to ruin this.”
“He’s definitely into you, yn,” Hyunri continues. “You need to seize the opportunity.”
Honestly, you’re not really sure you’re ready for anything related to relationships. You’ve been on your own for four years, and the simple thought of dating someone scares the hell out of you. Jungkook seems like a nice guy and looks good, but what if he realizes that he doesn’t like you? What if he realizes you simply look good?
“I don’t know…” you admit.
Being single all these years wasn’t in your plans, but life happened. In between sickness, grief, and heartbreak, you gave yourself some time to breathe. Dating was the last thing on your mind, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t try to give it a shot.
Two years ago, you tried tinder, but it was a total mess. It overwhelmed you after two days, and you deleted your profile. You gave it a second chance three months ago, but it ended up with the same result.
The conclusion was that dating apps aren’t for you.
Being on your own never scared you, but sometimes, loneliness can be suffocating—like really suffocating. Those nights, tears get the best of you. Being alone isn’t easy all the time; however, you have to admit that it brings you peace, and you actually love it.
Juhee and Hyunri are worried you’d spend the rest of your life alone. You’re thirty and very much single. For a while, you totally ignored them because you didn’t give a shit about it all. But now, with this Jungkook, it feels a bit different.
“Look, I know you’re scared, but just go with the flow with Jungkook. Don’t overthink, just enjoy yourself. If it doesn’t work, then that’s it, but don’t try to push him away if he keeps coming back, okay?”
It seems easy for her to say. She isn’t the one struggling with relationships. She’s been with Yoongi for seven years, married for two years, and had a baby girl one year ago. She found her soulmate while you’re still trying to figure things out in your life.
“Okay,” you say.
For now, you just have to focus on when he shows up at your door in a couple of hours to retrieve his helmet. Probably nothing will happen, and maybe he’ll leave in two minutes. Maybe he’s not into you, as Hyunri likes to repeat.
“Now, have you planned something for when you see each other again?” Hyunri asks.
“No,” you reply instantly. “He’s just going to pick up his helmet.”
“His helmet?” Juhee asks.
“Yeah, I accidentally stole it yesterday.”
“Ooooh, our girl was so charmed that she stole something…” Hyunri teases you.
She’s not wrong, but you’re absolutely not going to admit it just yet.
“This is awkward, Ri,” you tell her.
“Okay,” Juhee intervenes. “It’s a good thing, though. You get to see him again.”
For sure, you’re going to see him, but you’re not sure how it’ll go. Probably nothing will happen.
“I might have said that I’d like to get on his bike again,” you confess.
“Girl, please beg for that ride today,” Hyunri literally begs you.
“We’ll see,” you reply. “He’s probably just going to take the helmet and leave straight after.”
“Yn…” Juhee exhales. “Don’t let him leave right after. Speak a bit with him and absolutely ask for that ride.”
You take a deep breath. You’d like to go for another ride, but would it even be appropriate if he’s coming to pick up the helmet? He said yesterday that he’ll see when he comes today, but what if he changed his mind?
Suddenly, you receive a notification from him. Your heartbeat increases drastically, and you remain silent as your friends keep talking.
jungkook 🏍️: hi yn ✨ is it okay if i come in one hour?
For a minute, you look at the message without knowing what to say or even to think.
“Yn?” Juhee says, bringing you back down on earth.
“Sorry,” you reply. “He just texted me.”
It feels like you’re in a parallel universe. Everything that has been happening since last night feels absolutely unreal.
“What did he say?” Hyunri asks with curiosity.
“He’s asking if he can come in an hour.”
“And you’re going to say yes,” Juhee tells you.
It’s not even a question. She’s saying it, and you don’t have much of a choice.
“Yes,” you confirm.
you: hi jungkook, yes it’s fine ✨
His reply comes seconds later, as if he was waiting for your answer.
jungkook 🏍️: perfect! see you
“Girls, I’ll have to leave then,” you tell them. “I need to clean my place, it’s a complete mess!”
“Okay, but you keep us updated,” Hyunri makes you promise.
“Yes, I will.”
An hour later, the doorbell rings in your apartment, and your heart starts racing. Your eyes quickly dart around, checking if your place looks presentable. In the mirror of the entrance, you quickly check your reflection to make sure you look presentable.
Following your friends’ advice, you’ve chosen a simple but not too casual outfit. So, you’ve opted for a fitted black top that hugs your frame, the neckline dipping just enough to soften the look without trying too hard. You paired your top with jeans sitting high on your waist, perfectly fitted at the hips before falling straight down your legs. And on top of that, you put on a thin belt that pulls everything together.
You’re kind of satisfied with the outfit, but somehow, it feels like your top is a bit too much. However, now that Jungkook rings at your door, you can’t back out and change.
When you look at the videophone, his strong figure captivates your full attention, and you can’t help but smile. He’s opted for a full black outfit that suits him incredibly well. He’s wearing a tight shirt under a large jacket and tucked into his jeans. In his left hand, he holds his helmet.
“Hi, Jungkook,” you speak through the interphone. “It’s the fifth floor.”
“Thanks,” he says as you open the entrance door through a button on the interphone.
You take a very deep breath, trying to calm your beating heart and your racing thoughts. “He’s just here to pick up the helmet, nothing more,” you try to convince yourself. Deep down, you wish he’s not here just for that. Deep down, you hope he’ll propose to do something. Deep down, you simply want to be around him.
A loud knock against your door brings you back to reality, and without much hesitation, you open the door. Your breath is completely taken away when he stands tall in front of you. He looks even better than yesterday, if it was even possible.
His lips stretch into a bright smile before he says, “Hi, yn.”
“Hi, Jungkook,” you say, smiling as well. “Come inside.”
You step back to let him in, and he doesn’t waste a second before getting inside your place. Jungkook looks around, discovering every corner of the apartment’s entrance. You don’t own a big place because you can’t afford anything bigger, but one thing you’re proud of is the fact that this is yours. You bought this with your own money.
He turns around, his intense gaze now on you. That part hasn’t changed since last night. He still looks at you in a way that makes your tummy twist. You really want to hold his gaze, but you just can’t.
So you look around, searching for the helmet. “Let me just grab the helmet.”
Jungkook frowns. “If you didn’t want my presence here, you could have just said it,” he begins. “I could have waited at the entrance.”
You tilt your head, trying to understand what he’s saying, and when you do, you feel guilty. You’re so awkward that you want to slap your face so badly.
“It’s not that,” you say, shaking your head.
You pause, trying to think of the right way to express yourself, even though you know you’ve already made a mess in like a second.
“I just…”
It feels like you can’t even express yourself, while he’s just waiting for an answer. For sure, after this, he’ll run away and never come back. This is more than over. You don’t even dare to look at him, too scared of what you might see in his eyes.
“I just thought you were here for it,” you finally say, slowly looking back at him.
To your surprise, you see a sly smile on his face, and even if his stare is still intense, it doesn’t feel threatening.
“I wouldn’t be here if it were just for the helmet,” he replies.
“Oh.”
Well, his reply leaves you speechless. He’s implying that he’s here for you, not to retrieve the helmet, and that does things to you. You’re not sure you can remember the last time a man said he wanted to spend time with you, except for the brief times you were on tinder. So, that doesn’t count at all.
“Do you want to drink or eat something, then?” you proceed to ask.
His smile grows bigger as he nods. “Where can I put this?” he shows his helmet.
“Follow me,” you tell him.
Jungkook does as you say, and you guide him to the living room. When he sees the stolen helmet, he instantly understands he needs to place his right next to it.
“You can sit on the couch while I bring some things,” you say with a little smile.
The man nods as you disappear into the kitchen, take some juice from the fridge, and pick up a few biscuits. You come back with all of that and take two glasses from the sideboard.
“This is all I have,” you show him.
“It’s enough,” he smiles. “I really like this orange juice. My favourite.”
His words reassure you.
“I can do coffee if you want,” you propose as well.
“No, no, this is fine,” he replies.
You nod, and the two of you start eating some of the biscuits you have. Those are lactose-free because, unfortunately, your body decided it was damn time you stopped tolerating lactose. In all honesty, this is horrible. The only positive side is that you now know what you're eating, since you always have to read the ingredients.
“Your place is cute,” he finally breaks the silence.
“Thanks,” you reply. “I bought it two years ago, and it’s slowly starting to look like something.”
He chuckles, his fingers placing a chocolate biscuit in his mouth, and you can’t help but drool over this simple action. Fuck, he looks way too hot without even trying.
“So you live alone?” he asks, as if he’s making sure nobody will show up unexpectedly.
“Yes.”
You’re not sure if it’s a good idea to let a stranger know you live by yourself—we never know what might happen. But, somehow, with him, you feel like you’re safe.
“No man is going to show up?”
Your cheeks instantly heat as you realize he’s trying to check if you’re single or not. “Are you trying to ask if I’m single?” you ask without thinking.
“Maybe,” he says, a cheeky smirk appearing on his face.
He’s going to be the death of you. There’s no way you’re going to survive him if he starts acting like that around you.
“Well, if you don’t ask it clearly, I can’t give you an answer,” you decide to tease him back.
If he wants to know, he’ll have to say it loud and clear. Jungkook chuckles before you hear him say, “Are you single?”
Heath instantly spreads through your body as you hear him say it.
“Maybe,” you keep teasing him.
He shakes his head, picking up another biscuit. Why did you even agree to meet him today? He looks way too good, and you don’t even know how to deal with him. Somehow, teasing him is the only way to do it.
“Mmm,” he says. “Is it a yes?”
You decide to nod, “I have been for a while.”
You don’t really know where you found the courage to say it, but maybe the fact that you feel comfortable enough with him can explain it. Suddenly, his face gets dangerously close, his gaze glued on yours. The strong scent of his cologne wraps around you, and you swear that you can feel your soul leaving your body.
“It’s hard to believe it,” he then says.
His words take you off guard.
“Why?” you frown.
“Someone like you can’t possibly be single for long,” he replies.
Your body heat keeps increasing while your heart simply decides to abandon you. Jungkook can’t possibly say things like that. You chuckle, not believing a word. “Is that what you say to all women?”
“No,” he says simply.
The way he says it—calm and without hesitation—makes you shiver. His answer actually surprises you because you weren’t expecting him to reply with ‘no’ so simply.
“I’m sure a guy like you doesn’t have trouble meeting women,” you say.
Even if your friend told you it was hard for him after his divorce, you’re absolutely convinced he managed to flirt—and maybe do even more—with stunning women. You’re not saying you’re ugly; it’s far from that, but you’re sure that he has seen tons of pretty women.
“A guy like me?” he raises an eyebrow.
You’re not even sure what you’re supposed to reply, but you know he understands what you mean. He’s just trying to push you to say it out loud.
“You know what I mean,” you then reply.
Jungkook watches you for a second, his face still too close to yours. A sly smile grows on his face, and your heart just drops right there and then.
“Yeah,” he says. “But it doesn’t mean I’m interested in all of them.”
His answer flusters you. Jungkook is quite straightforward, and you haven’t met a man like him before. It’s unsettling, but at the same time, impressive. As you don’t know what to reply to that, you change the topic of the conversation completely: “I believe you promised me another ride on your bike.”
As you say it out loud, it absolutely sounds dirty. You’re so fucking awkward… He’s going to think you want to go wild with him when it’s absolutely not the case. You press your lips together, trying to suppress the urge to cringe.
Jungkook doesn’t react right away, but for the first time, he looks away. It is as if he needs some time to process what you just said.
“I did,” he then replies calmly. “And we can go whenever you want.”
His eyes meet yours again, and you bite the corner of your lower lip as you think of the place you’d like to go. You’re not sure it’d be right to suggest it because it’s tied to heavy and strong emotions.
“There’s a place I used to go to,” you admit.
You don’t look at him when you continue. Honestly, it’s been a while since you’ve wanted to go there, but you were too scared to go alone. Using this bike ride seems like the perfect excuse.
“I haven’t been there in a while.”
You can feel Jungkook’s eyes on you. Somehow, it feels like you have forgotten how he spent last night constantly looking at you. It’s like he can’t look away, and it’s sometimes unsettling.
“I’d like to go back there,” you say, finally looking at him to see his reaction.
Nothing has changed; it’s like he’s a statue. He’s simply looking at you with that unreadable expression. Jungkook doesn’t ask questions, just nods, “Okay,” he ends up saying. “Let me know when you want to go, then.”
“Can we go now?” you dare to ask.
Again, he simply nods. The two of you stand up at the same time, and you notice a little smile on his face. He looks cute when there’s no smirk or sly smile on his face.
Back on his bike, your arms wrap around him while he drives, and you feel alive all over again. A stupid smile stretches across your face as he guides you both through the city. You didn’t think you’d be back on the bike this soon, but god, you’re definitely not going to complain.
At a red light, he looks back, his hand falling on top of yours. “You’re doing okay?”
“Yes,” you try to scream, making sure he can hear you.
“Good,” he says, his head looking back at the road.
His fingers stroking your hands warm your body in an unexplainable way, and you can’t help but wrap yourself tighter around him. Right now, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. He’s made you feel a lot in less than a day, and even if you don’t ever see him again, you’d cherish those moments forever.
When the light turns green, he starts the engine. You look around, enjoying how the city becomes a blur all over again. The bike zigzags between the cars at a fast speed, giving the impression that they are barely moving. Your body moves with his as he drives you around. It’s honestly impressive.
At some point, you rest your head against his back and close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the wind running through your body. This is so unique. This time around, having your body pressed against his doesn’t scare you. It’s actually the opposite.
Jungkook slows down as you reach the destination, your eyes opening when he speaks. “Can I park here?”
“Yeah, should be fine,” you reply.
He completely stops the engine on a little spot, and you climb off the bike. The street is almost empty, as it was the case when you used to come years ago. The two of you remove the helmets once you put your feet on the floor.
Jungkook’s gaze lands on you, and you don’t look away. His fingers quickly run through his hair to arrange it. This man is so effortlessly good-looking.
“We just need to walk a bit,” you tell him.
He nods as you guide him through the houses and down the street to your secret spot. Four years ago, when you were walking around with an aching heart, you discovered this spot with the prettiest view of the city. You’ve come here tons of times, but over time, you stopped coming.
When you reach it, you halt, and he stands next to you. The view is still breathtaking. A smile forms on your lips. Before you can realize it, your eyes meet the man next to you. For the first time, he isn’t looking at you, but at the city.
“This is a pretty spot,” he admits before looking at you.
“It is,” you say while holding his gaze.
Your hand grabs his gloved one, guiding him to the railing placed a bit further. His hand wraps around you, which honestly creates goosebumps on your body, but you simply ignore it. Once there, you don’t let go of his hand just yet.
“How did you discover this?” he asks, his eyes moving between you and the city. “This is really hidden.”
“The story behind it isn’t the most joyful,” you admit.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t feel like it,” he tells you.
You let go of his hand, put your elbows on the railing, and place your head in your hands. The helmet hangs on your arm while your eyes simply take in the sight before you. Somehow, being here doesn’t overwhelm you as you thought it’d be. It actually eases your mind.
“I lost my best friend to cancer around the time my ex-boyfriend broke up with me,” you confess, not looking once at him.
Revealing the truth feels easy when the person next to you is a complete stranger. He can’t judge you, and even if he does, you can simply walk away.
“The pain was suffocating,” you explain. “And I’d walk around the city for hours to empty my mind. Spoiler alert: it didn’t work,” you try to chuckle, but only a weird noise escapes your mouth. “One day, I stumbled upon this spot and kept coming because the noise in my head and the lump in my throat would calm down for a minute in here.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he tells you.
“Thanks,” you reply. “It’s been four years, but it feels like it was yesterday.”
You can tell that his eyes are on you, not in the city, but you don’t care. It feels good to say this to someone who isn’t Juhee or Hyunri.
“I understand,” he confesses. “Losing someone isn’t easy.”
It isn’t. Grief never leaves you; you simply learn how to live with it, but there are times when everything comes back with more intensity. In those moments, you’re brought back in time, and everything becomes unbearable all over again.
“I hadn’t come here in years, but it’s good to be back,” you admit.
“Thanks for telling me all of this,” he tells you. “And I’m happy you brought us here. It’s very beautiful.”
A small silence settles between you after his words, but it’s not heavy nor awkward. It’s just there as if you both need to proceed with everything you just shared with him. You nod slightly, your gaze still fixed on the city.
The wind brushes lightly against your skin, and without thinking, you pull your jacket a little closer around you. Jungkook steps just slightly closer, not enough to invade your space, but enough to shield you from the breeze. It’s subtle, but you notice it.
“You don’t talk about it much, do you?” he asks quietly behind you.
You shake your head. “Not really.”
The pain that comes with revealing this is always too much, but with Jungkook, it seems easy. It’s not overwhelming, nor painful. It’s just peaceful, especially with the view in front of you.
You finally turn your head to look at him. There’s something different in his expression. It’s softer—as if he can totally understand you and your feelings. It leaves you wondering if he also lost someone.
You hesitate, but then ask, “Have you lost someone too?”
He exhales quietly, his gaze drifting to the city behind you. “Yeah,” he says after a beat.
Jungkook doesn’t elaborate, and you don’t push. He has the right not to tell you everything right away. As he said, losing someone isn’t easy, and most probably, he doesn’t feel like sharing with you what he went through. Nevertheless, you’re here if he ever wants to speak.
He moves to stand next to you again, his shoulder brushing against yours. You don’t move away, nor does he. This feels right.
“I used to come here alone,” you say. “I never thought I’d ever bring someone.”
Jungkook glances at you, and you do the same. Your heart misses a beat when you notice the way he looks at you. It isn’t intense, it’s just soft and filled with feelings. Nobody ever looked at you like that.
“I’ll take this as a good sign,” he says.
You huff a quiet laugh. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
His lips curve faintly. “Too late.”
You shake your head before looking back at the city. Another silence stretches between you, and neither of you tries to break it. It just feels good. Being here after all this time feels refreshing because things are different now.
You’ve overcome the heartbreak your ex-boyfriend caused, and the grief isn’t as suffocating as it was. You now know how to live with it, even though you still cry over the loss of your first friend. Lucas would be proud of you; he wouldn’t have wanted you to cry for years.
“Whenever you want to leave, let me know,” he says.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay a little longer,” you tell him.
Jungkook simply nods, and you remain here for a couple more minutes. When the wind becomes too cold, he places his jacket around your shoulders. You mumble a simple ‘thanks’ as you let his warm wrap around you.
No matter what the future holds for you, the simple fact that a man came with you here and showed nothing but support will forever be engraved in your heart. There aren’t many men left like him. He doesn’t question or push you to open up to him. He’s just there, and you only met him last night. What will it be like in a couple of weeks or even months if he stays around?
When you tell him you feel ready to leave, he just brings the two of you back to his bike. No one really speaks, but there’s no need to. You give him back his jacket so he doesn’t get cold while he drives—you’d feel really bad about it.
Like he did yesterday, he stops in front of your building complex. This time around, he climbs off his bike as well. When you open the case on the back to put the helmet back inside, he places his hand on top of yours.
“Keep it,” he says.
His fingers tug a strand of hair behind your ear, as if he’s trying to rearrange it. You let him do as he wishes, your eyes glued on his. Your heart is beating way too fast in your chest, ready to burst at any moment.
“You might need it again,” he whispers.
Clearly, he wants to see you again, and you’re not really sure if you’re ready for that. However, the voices of Hyunri and Juhee echo in your head. You should try not to let him go just yet.
“You’re sure?” you ask.
Your question isn’t about keeping the helmet. It’s about checking if he truly wants to stay around.
“I am,” he replies with the softest voice. “But if you don’t want—”
“I want to,” you cut him off.
Not pushing him away isn’t going to be easy, but there’s one thing you’re sure of. You love being around him. And you don’t want to let him go.
For the past two weeks, you’ve been speaking nonstop with Jungkook. Everything seems easy with him. You don’t struggle to open up; he actually silently encourages you. He doesn’t say it, but always mentions that you don’t have to if you don’t feel like it.
Juhee and Hyunri have been excited about this whole thing with Jungkook. Juhee even speaks about it with Yoongi—you found out that Jungkook has been talking about you with Yoongi, but she refuses to let you know what they’ve been talking about. However, with the way she’s been encouraging you, you can deduce that it’s been positive.
Tonight, he’s picking you up for an outing. The only thing you know is that you’re going to a restaurant for dinner. Honestly, that doesn’t say much, because you don’t know how you’re supposed to dress.
If you follow your friends’ advice, you’d be dressing like a whore, and it’s not necessarily the impression you want to give him. You’ve been enjoying what’s been going on between you without the need to go freaky.
What you’ve discovered is that Jungkook is the type of man you introduce to your parents. Not the type to have one-night stands. For sure, he’s hot as hell, but beyond his looks, there’s a heart made of gold.
You’re not going to lie and say you haven’t thought of sleeping with him, but it was just a fantasy. When you’re around him, it’s the last thing on your mind. You simply enjoy his presence and every little thing that he does for you.
When you reach the main entrance of the building, Jungkook is waiting for you against the wall. For a second, you let your eyes roam over his body. Tonight, he looks different. The biker version of him is gone. Instead, he’s dressed in a full brown suit, the fabric slightly loose on his frame, like everything he wears. This man only seems to love extra-large clothes, but on him, it just works.
It makes him look attractive.
“Hi,” you say finally, once you’ve taken him in properly.
At the sound of your voice, his head turns, and his gaze instantly finds you, his eyes moving slowly over you.
The outfit you’ve opted for is different from what you’re used to. You stepped out of your comfort zone tonight, for him, even if you don’t want to admit it. So, you’ve put on a black skirt—that has been in your wardrobe for years—with a red top that adds just enough contrast. Your black oversized jacket falls naturally over your shoulders, and the boots give you a bit more confidence than usual.
It’s simple, but feels different.
“Hi,” he says, his eyes meeting yours. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” you smile at him. “The suit looks good on you.”
You’ve never seen him in a suit, which somehow makes tonight feel special. You step closer, closing the distance between you, and lean in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. His hand naturally finds your lower back.
When you pull away, his hand doesn’t leave. His thumb gently strokes your lower back. The simple gesture comforts you in ways you can’t even express. In fact, being around him always brings peace to your soul. You love being with him. It’s just easy. You can simply be yourself, and he’ll never judge you.
“We should get going,” he says after a moment. “Don’t want us to arrive late.”
You nod. Before you can step away, he leans in just slightly and presses a soft kiss on top of your head. The gesture catches you off guard. Then, his hand guides you forward, still resting at your lower back as you walk together toward his car.
It’s the first time you've seen it. You’re so used to the full biker Jungkook, and this feels different. The car is pretty and most probably expensive. You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. This man definitely has good taste.
But then again, you already knew that.
His hand never leaves you as you reach the passenger side, guiding and protecting you. Feeling his warmth next to you is like having a blanket wrapped around you; it’s comforting and reassuring.
He opens the door for you without a word, and when you move to sit, he adjusts slightly to make sure you’re comfortable before closing the door behind you. The outside world fades as you settle into the seat, the soft leather adjusting beneath you. The inside smells just like him, which makes you smile.
Over the past two weeks, you’ve found yourself looking for his clean and strong perfume. It’s like your body and soul are already addicted to him, and you’ll die if you can’t have it for a day. And when you don’t, it’s compensated for by the sweet melody of his voice whenever he calls or drops voice notes.
A few seconds later, the driver’s door opens, and Jungkook slides in. You glance at him as he adjusts his jacket slightly before starting the car. The movement is simple and controlled, like everything he does. Even here, nothing about him seems out of place. If anything, it fits him too well.
The engine hums to life, and he rests his hand on the steering wheel before glancing at you.
“You’re good?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you nod.
Your eyes drift around the interior before settling on the world outside through the window. The car slowly starts to glide into the street with ease.
Neither of you speaks for a moment, but the silence isn’t awkward—it never is with him. The city stretches around you as he drives. You rest your elbow lightly against the door, your fingers brushing your lips as you watch the passing streets.
“You don’t use this car much, do you?” you ask after a while.
He glances at you briefly, then back at the road. “Not really,” he replies.
“That’s what I thought,” you murmur, a small smile growing on your face. “I’ve only ever seen you on the bike.”
He chuckles a bit, which makes you turn your head toward him. “On a day-to-day basis, it’s easier with the bike,” he begins to explain. “I avoid the traffic when I go to work, and honestly, I prefer the bike to the car by far.”
He glances at you again, and you hold his gaze.
“It makes sense,” you reply as he focuses back on the road. “But honestly, I didn’t expect you to have a car like this.”
“What did you expect?” he asks with curiosity.
“I don’t know…” you shrug lightly. “Just the bike, I guess.”
A faint smile pulls at his lips. “I do have other sides,” he replies. “I’m not just a biker.”
“I’m starting to notice that.”
Jungkook slows down at a light, the red glow reflecting across his face. You watch him without really meaning to, and his gaze lands on you, neither of you looking away. At first, having him look at you was sometimes unsettling, but it isn’t anymore.
Suddenly, the red glow turns into green, but he doesn’t notice it, or at least, he pretends he doesn’t. Honestly, you could stay like this forever, but I’m sure the cars behind wouldn’t agree.
“You should focus on the road,” you whisper.
He just nods and starts the car, gliding it through the city. Your eyes look out the window once more, watching silently as the world moves around you. In the past few years, you’ve always been the driver, never the passenger, so you have to admit that it’s a bit odd to be in this position tonight.
Nevertheless, it doesn’t mean that it isn’t good.
After a while, you reach your destination, and your mouth drops as one of the fanciest restaurants in town stands before your eyes.
“We’re going to eat here?” you ask, your head turning to look at him.
Jungkook nods, and your entire body freezes. It’s barely possible to get a reservation, unless you want to wait months. And then, this is expensive as hell.
“How did you…?”
He chuckles lightly as a little smile appears on his face.
“Well, I’ve some friends who helped me out,” he replies.
“No,” you shake your head. “We can’t.”
“Why so?” he frowns. “I thought you’d love to come, you mentioned it a couple of times.”
The simple fact that he remembered you speaking about it warms your heart. He listened and remembered, which to you means more than you’ll ever be able to express.
“It’s not about that,” you say. “This is expensive.”
“And?” he replies as if money was the least of his concerns.
For the past two weeks, whenever you’d be out, Jungkook would pay for everything. Since you’ve met him, you haven’t paid a single thing, even if you begged. He always hides behind the excuse that he was the one inviting you, which wasn’t true all the time.
“I already know you,” you tell him. “You won’t let me pay.”
“I invited you, so I should be the one paying for it.”
“Not this time,” you clap back. “And if you don’t let me, I’ll never speak to you ever again.”
He raises an eyebrow while his eyes try to read yours.
“I dare you to,” he replies.
You’re almost offended by his words. “You don’t believe I can?”
“You’ll for sure do it at first to prove me wrong,” he begins explaining. “But you wouldn’t resist too long.”
Now you’re offended that he already knows you. This sounds totally like you. As you’re stubborn as hell, you’ll try to prove him wrong by ignoring him for as long as you can, but then, you’ll stop. And you both know the reason. You’ll miss him.
As you don’t know and don’t want to reply, you beg, “Just let me pay, please.”
“If it’s expensive for me, it is for you too,” he replies instantly, crossing his arms against his chest.
As you’ve also noticed, there’s no arguing with him. If he has decided something, you can do, say, or ask whatever you want; he’ll just do as he planned and won’t flinch at all.
“At least, let me pay for my part?”
Your words sound more like a question than intended.
“Give me a solid reason, then,” he flatly says.
“The expensive part isn’t reason enough?” you ask, and he shakes his head.
You sigh in defeat, knowing damn well, you’ve already lost this fight. He’s going to pay whether you want it or not. It’s honestly very chivalrous, but he shouldn’t have to pay for everything. It’s like his wallet knows no limit.
“I just feel bad, okay?” you then confess. “You always pay for everything, and I don’t want you to throw your money like that.”
At that moment, something entirely soft appears in his eyes, and his shoulders slightly drop down. His hand finds its way to your cheek before his thumb slowly and gently strokes it. His face gets closer, his hot breath caressing your face.
“I throw my money where I want to,” he gently whispers. “And it’s worth it with you.”
Your eyes inevitably stare down at his lips for a hot moment before shifting up to his eyes. Jungkook can’t throw things like that, especially when it makes you feel so special.
“It’s not fair,” you admit out loud. “I should be able to do it too.”
He chuckles, his eyes still glued to your face.
“Keep your money and make good use of it,” he answers.
You shake your head, looking away and pushing his eyes off your face. He makes everything harder. It’s impossible to resist him.
“Why can’t you let me pay?” he sincerely asks.
His question catches you off guard, which makes you stare back at him instantly. You tilt your head, and you can tell by the look on his face that he isn’t used to this. So, it leaves you wondering if people just let him pay without even questioning it.
“We both work our asses off to earn it,” you start explaining. “It feels like I’m exploiting you when I also have the means to pay for everything we do.”
You don’t know much about his job; he’s always so vague about it, as if he wants to avoid speaking about it. All you know is that he works in finance and he’s gotten promoted several times. With those few pieces of information, you deduced that he must be comfortable in life. Now, to what extent, you don’t really know.
“Please don’t feel like that,” he mumbles. “It’s never been my intention.”
Of course, you know it, and you also don’t want him to feel bad about it. You’re simply not used to all of this. Even your ex would let you pay, but things were different back then. He was struggling financially, and it wouldn’t be right to let him pay for everything. But still, it just feels wrong to let Jungkook do it.
“This is my way of expressing my gratitude for spending time with you,” he whispers with the biggest doe eyes.
Damn, how are you supposed to resist him? Those doe eyes always get the best out of you. He gets whatever he wants with that.
“That’s nice of you,” you tell him. “But just let me sometimes pay, okay?”
He nods, and you can’t help but press a soft kiss on his cheek, even though his lips are the spot you’d like to kiss.
“But it’ll start after this dinner,” he replies.
Well, there’s no more arguing left now. You’ve found a middle ground for now, but you’ll for sure remind him of it next time he doesn’t let you pay.
“Okay,” you agree.
The rest of the night just goes well. The conversation flows perfectly between the two of you, and you absolutely enjoy the dinner. The restaurant looks even better than in all the pictures you’ve seen online, and you’re definitely grateful that Jungkook managed to find a table.
Obviously, you let him pay for you, but you had to bite your tongue when you saw the price. Even if you carefully chose a not-too-expensive plate, it was still a lot. Nonetheless, everything was super good, and let’s not even talk about the wine. It was so good that you swore you had an orgasm just with it.
When he drops you off, it feels like the night was too short. You wish you could spend more time with him, but you don’t want to scare him off just yet.
“Thanks for the night,” you tell him once you’re in front of the building’s entrance.
“I should thank you too,” he replies. “It was great.”
You nod, agreeing completely with him. It was really good, and you’d love to do this again.
“We should repeat it,” you say.
“As long as you keep my helmet, we’ll repeat this as much as you want.”
The helmet has become the guarantee that you’ll keep seeing each other, as if it’s an excuse. Somehow, you know that as long as you have it, you have him as well. It’s proof that he trusts you and wants to spend time with you.
A smile grows on your lips, and you swear that at that moment, your body melts. The more you spend time with him, the more you love every single word falling from his pretty lips. It’s like he’s a romantic man without even trying.
“I’ll keep it forever then,” you admit.
Jungkook gets closer, his hand delicately placing a strand of hair behind your ear. This simple gesture sends shivers down your spine. Your eyes get lost in his, and the world seems to disappear around you as his thumb lightly brushes against your cheek, leaving a warmth that spreads through your entire body.
“I’d love nothing more than that,” he whispers, his face moving way too close to yours until you feel his hot breath on your skin.
Your heart hammers faster and faster in your chest, and for a brief moment, nothing else matters. He’s about to kiss you, there’s absolutely no doubt about it, and truthfully, there’s nothing else you want more right now.
“I’ll keep it safe,” you reply, your eyes moving from his eyes to his lips.
His nose brushes against yours, the bare touch making you shiver. When his eyes search yours, you know he’s silently asking for permission. And when you don’t pull away, he simply knows.
Then, he closes the distance.
His lips press against yours with hesitation at first. His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you while he deepens the kiss. The world entirely disappears as his lips move against yours, consuming you completely.
Your body leans into his instinctively, your hands finding his chest to bunch the fabric of his suit jacket beneath your fingers. When his tongue brushes your lower lip, your stomach flips, and you let him in. The sensation is overwhelming and beautiful.
When you break the kiss, you’re both breathless, foreheads resting against each other as your eyes meet once again. Jungkook’s fingers softly caress your face, and his touch is so soft. You close your eyes to savor this moment.
None of you speaks, too lost in the moment to even express what you feel. Jungkook has made you feel so loved in such a short time, and it’s in all the little things he does, like making you keep his helmet. And above all, he’s shown you that he’s there, by your side. That’s worth way more than any word he could ever say.
His lips meet yours once more as if he needs to repeat it to make sure it’s real. And you let him consume you as much as he wants. He can even take your soul if he desires, because you know that he holds your heart in the palm of his hand.
“Miss yn,” Juhee says when you pick up her call.
“Hi to you too, Ju,” you reply.
Last night you slept like a baby, your dreams filled with Jungkook and his sweet lips.
“How on earth am I finding out through my husband that you kissed Jungkook?” she says, trying to sound angry, but she fails miserably.
Her words catch you by absolute surprise. It’s been a couple of hours since it happened, and Yoongi is already aware of it? You haven’t imagined Jungkook being the type to share everything so fast with Yoongi, his best friend.
“Woow, he already knows?” you ask.
“Of course he does. He has like a group chat with Jungkook and Hobi, and they share everything,” she explains. “Like absolutely everything.”
“Oh.”
“BUT I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!” she screams on the other side. “Gosh, I’ve been dying to hear that since Yoongi’s birthday!”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile appearing on your face. You’re also happy that you finally kissed. You’ve been giggling all morning, thinking about it.
“Don’t get too excited,” you reply. “It’s just a kiss.”
“Stop,” she instantly says. “It wasn’t just a kiss, and we all know it.”
She isn’t wrong, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself. The last time that it happened was with a man who broke your hearts months later. You really don’t want to get hurt. However, it’s clear that you’re letting Jungkook in and giving him all the powers to hurt you.
“Look, you never heard this from me, but Jungkook gets as excited as you about whatever is going on between you. Yoongi even told me that he hasn’t seen him this happy in years.”
A little silence falls between you—one that simply allows you to process for a moment what she just told you.
“I know I promised Yoongi I’d never say anything, but I want you to realize that he’s really into you,” she breaks the silence. “I know you’re scared because of what Elliott did to you. But you can’t be scared for the rest of your life. If you want to find someone who loves you, you have to let them in,” she pauses for a hot second. “You have to let Jungkook in.”
It’s easier said than done. You know you’ll always overthink everything, which probably isn’t the right move.
“And if he ever dares to do something wrong, we’ll kick him in the ass!” she adds. “Now, seriously, we’re rooting for you because you both deserve this.”
“Thanks, Juhee,” you tell her.
“Now, tell me everything!” she urges you.
You chuckle before saying, “He told me that as long as I have his helmet, we’ll keep having dates.”
“Oh god, he’s soooo cheesy,” she says. “But damn, that’s so sweet.”
You then explain everything in detail—from when he picked you up to when you kissed. She keeps giggling through it all, and somehow, it fulfills you that your best friend is so invested in your love life. You know that she’ll support you no matter what.
After that, your sister shows up at your place with your favorite niece in the world—well, it’s your only niece—because she has an important appointment with her husband. They’ve been trying for a second baby through IVF. They followed the same route with your niece, as they were aware of their fertility issues.
Your parents are out of town; they went on a trip to Thailand to enjoy some time alone. With your sister, you’ve encouraged them to do it because they’ve spoken about that trip for years. They decided to go there for three weeks and visit as much as they could.
“Don’t be too silly, okay?” your sister tells your niece, Ivy.
“I promise, mommy,” she replies with the sweetest voice.
“Don’t worry, sissy,” you add while you grab your niece in your arms. “She’s always been good with me.”
Ivy wraps her tiny legs around your waist and her arms around your neck. She’s so tiny for a 5-year-old, but so clingy. You absolutely adore this kid with all your soul.
“Yeah, but I just want to make sure she doesn’t drive you crazy,” she retorts.
“If anything, I’m the one who will drive her crazy,” you chuckle.
Your sister smiles, knowing damn right that it’s the truth. Before your niece existed, you were driving your sister crazy since the day you were born.
“Now, go before you arrive late at your appointment,” you urge her to leave.
She presses a kiss on her daughter’s cheek before doing the same to you.
“Have fun!” she says as she disappears into the hallway.
You close the door, put down your niece, and look at her. She brought her coloring book with her, and it might keep her busy for a moment. You’re not sure how long the appointment will take, but if it lasts long, you’re not sure the coloring will be enough to keep her entertained.
“Let’s get to the living room,” you say, grabbing her little backpack. “Want your favorite juice?”
Since you never know when she might show up at your place, you always have her favorite orange juice, which you recently found out is also Jungkook’s.
“Not yet,” she replies.
Once in the living room, she sits down on the floor in front of the coffee table, takes his book and the coloring pencils, and chooses which coloring she’ll do. On your end, you decide to sit on the couch, which is more comfortable than the floor.
“Do you want to watch something in particular?” you ask.
“Can we watch The Little Mermaid?”
You nod and put it on. She’s obsessed with it; luckily for her, you adore it too. Otherwise, you would have grown tired of watching it every time she comes. At some point, your phone buzzes next to you, and your eyes quickly take a glance.
The second you notice it’s a message from Jungkook, the silliest smile stretches on your lips. For a moment, your eyes run over his message. He’s asking if you’re doing something today. Since your niece is sitting between you and the tv, you take a picture to show him what you’re currently doing.
you: taking care of my niece
The three dots instantly appear on your screen.
jungkook 🏍️: lucky her
Your smile grows bigger, you’re sure it’s reaching your ears.
you: you could come after, if you want 😊
Your heart is beating way too fast in your chest. You’d love nothing more than to spend time with him, especially after how last night went. You’d love to kiss him all over again.
jungkook 🏍️: of course
Your face gets hotter because he didn’t even hesitate.
you: and could we go on a ride? i miss it 🫣
jungkook 🏍️: we do whatever you want
There is a little pause before he sends you a second message.
jungkook 🏍️: everything is fine for me
He’s way too nice. You’re scared you’ll tire him of going on rides, which you don’t want because you enjoy it too much.
you: aren’t you tired of me asking that?
“Aunty?” your niece suddenly turns around.
“Yes, princess,” you say while putting your phone aside.
“Which color you think is better for the dress?” she asks.
She shows you all her pencils, and you look between them and the coloring, trying to figure out which will suit best. The green seems instantly like the perfect color. In the background, your phone buzzes, letting you know Jungkook has replied.
“This one,” you show her the green pencil.
She takes the pen without thinking much and starts coloring. You decide to remain on the floor, next to her, so you grab your phone from the couch. When you unlock it, you notice three messages from Jungkook.
jungkook 🏍️: no, i love my bike
jungkook 🏍️: and i like the rides with company
jungkook 🏍️: you can keep asking as much as you want
A smile grows again on your face. You feel like a teenager falling in love with her crush, and damn, you don’t want that feeling to ever disappear.
you: don’t say that, i’ll ask every single day for a ride
Your heart beats crazily as you type your second message.
you: might even ask you to drop me off at work at some point
“Who are you talking to?” Ivy suddenly asks without hesitation.
Your eyes move from the phone to her tiny figure.
“A friend,” you tell her.
“Is your friend cool?” she asks.
“Absolutely,” you reply instantly.
Without even looking, you notice his answer, but you don’t look just yet as you speak with your niece.
“How cool?”
She’s way too curious, but you don’t mind. She’s still young and cute too, so she can ask or say whatever she wants with you.
“Like he has a bike,” you reply.
“Woow,” her little mouth takes the ‘O’ shape as she speaks. “Can I see a picture?”
Well, you don’t have a picture of his bike.
“Wait, let me ask him.”
She nods, and your eyes fall on your chat with Jungkook.
jungkook 🏍️: i’ll do it gladly
Your heart melts right there and then. What have you done to find someone like him? He’s just so nice and sweet with you. You feel like you can ask for the moon, and he’ll hand it to you without even blinking.
you: you’re too nice!
you: my niece is asking for a picture of your bike
you: can you send one?
It takes a couple of minutes before you receive the requested picture. It doesn’t do it justice at all, but it still looks good.
“Here you go, little monster,” you tell her as you show it to her.
“It’s beautiful,” she says with the biggest doe eyes.
She takes her time to look at the picture as if the bike will suddenly come to your living room if she keeps looking. She looks cute, though. Then, a message from Jungkook pops up.
“You have a message, aunty,” she points out.
jungkook 🏍️: i can come if she wants to see it irl
You almost giggle in front of her. Seems like Jungkook would find any excuse to come see you, even using your niece.
“Would you like to see it?” you then ask to Ivy. “Like really see it?”
“I can?” she says as her eyes widen, and a bright smile grows on her face.
“Yes, my friend can show it to you,” you tell her.
“Yes, yes,” she says, completely excited.
She stands up and starts jumping with happiness. It really fills your heart to see her like that, and you’d do anything to make her happy until she becomes old. Even though she’s your sister’s daughter, she’s kind of your baby too.
you: she would absolutely love that
jungkook 🏍️: okay, i’ll be there in 10 minutes
“We can keep watching the movie until he arrives, okay?” you tell her.
She nods before sitting down on the floor next to you. She presses her tiny body against yours, and you wrap your arm around her. This little girl definitely owns your heart.
Exactly ten minutes later, you receive a notification from Jungkook, letting you know that he’s arrived. Somehow, knowing that your niece is going to meet him makes you nervous. Why? Because it’s like letting him in your family. Ivy is definitely going to tell her parents about this, which will lead to your sister asking about this, and then, she’ll definitely want to meet him.
“So, little monster,” you tell her. “My friend’s here, but before going, I have something to give you.”
She nods, and you disappear into your room to pick up the helmet. When you come back, you hand it to her.
“To make it even cooler, I’ll let you borrow my helmet,” you smile at her.
“Thanks, aunty,” she says.
“Now, let’s put that jacket on because it’s too cold outside.”
The two of you get ready. You look like an absolute mess. You weren’t exactly planning on seeing Jungkook, so it’s just you, your large Sabrina Carpenter shirt, your oversized jacket, and your grey sweatpants.
When you’re finally outside, she sees the bike right in front of her. She gets super excited, which is somehow super funny. As he notices you, Jungkook climbs off his bike and takes his helmet off.
“Hi, mister,” Ivy says while extending her hand to him. “I’m Ivy, her niece.”
“Hi Ivy, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says, taking her hand and gently shaking it. “I’m Jungkook.”
His eyes briefly shift to you, a bright smile appearing on his face.
“Heard you wanted to see a bike for real,” he says with a gentle voice as he lowers himself to her level.
“Yes, my aunty even brought her helmet,” she tells him.
“Well, we will only put it when you’re on the bike,” he explains to her.
“I can go on it?” she asks with evident excitement.
“We’re not going to drive, but you can sit on it,” he tells her.
She gets even more excited, and he takes her in his arms before placing her on the bike. She looks so so tiny on it, but it’s honestly one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen. She’s ridiculously adorable like that.
“Now, Ivy’s aunty,” he says to you, “can you please give me your helmet?”
You nod as you give it to him. With all the care in the world, he places it on top of her head. Obviously, it is way too big for her, but she’s absolutely living her biker dream. As you watch them interact, your heart melts completely. You never knew you needed this in your life.
Jungkook climbs behind her at some point and starts the engine. You obviously take the helmet back as it is too heavy and big for her little head. Let’s avoid hurting her while she’s under your watch. Your sister would kill you if something happened.
He leans in slightly, making sure that he doesn’t squish your niece, and one hand settles on the handlebar.
“Watch this,” he says.
He twists the throttle, and the engine roars to life beneath them, the sound low and powerful as it vibrates. Ivy’s eyes widen instantly. With a small smile, Jungkook gently takes her hand and places it on the handlebar.
“Feel that?” he says.
Ivy nods, almost bouncing in place as the vibrations hums under her fingers. This moment unfolding before your eyes is honestly marvelous. Ivy is clearly so happy to be on a bike for the first time in her life, and Jungkook is more than happy to share this moment with her. He clearly loves his bike. No wonder he doesn’t mind going around with you.
“Aunty,” Ivy calls you, “can you take a picture, please?”
You take your phone out of your pocket, placing yourself in front of them. Jungkook holds her tightly in his arms while she still has her hand on the handlebar. They both give you their brightest smiles. You take several pictures, and then they go back to discuss the bike as if you don’t even exist.
Jungkook tells her many things about it, like how and when he bought it, how he started driving bikes, and how much he loves being on it. She begs for a ride, but he categorically refuses, as it is too dangerous, which you emphasize as well. Obviously, she’s a bit disappointed.
Honestly, you don’t know how long you stayed outside, but you know that it’s enough to have your sister back from her appointment.
“What are you—” she freezes the second she sees her daughter on a bike with a stranger.
“Wait,” you tell her before she joins them. “He’s a friend of mine, and she’s completely safe with him. They’ve been at it for god knows how long.”
Your sister stands next to you, looking at Jungkook and Ivy on the bike, who are animatedly talking.
“A friend of yours?” she raises an eyebrow. “Is it the sexy kind of friend?”
Your eyes move from Jungkook and your niece to her. You really can’t believe her. One second ago, she was concerned to see her daughter with a stranger, and now she’s asking if you’re being freaky in bed with that stranger. Unbelievable!
“Don’t!” you tell her. “It’s not like that between us.”
“Well, with a friend like that, I would have already opened my legs,” she chuckles.
You tap her arm, which only makes her laugh even more. “You’re married.”
“But that doesn’t stop me from appreciating a good-looking man when I see one.”
You roll your eyes, annoyed by what she’s saying. If you didn’t know, you’d believe that she doesn’t care about her husband, but that woman is like desperately in love with your brother-in-law. However, you still decide to tell her what’s going on between you and Jungkook. She’ll find it out anyway.
“If you want to know, this is a friend I’ve been seeing for like two weeks and whom I kissed last night,” you tell her.
She gasps at your words. “You’re telling me that my baby sis is finally giving a chance to a guy?”
“Exactly,” you reply.
“Well, this day couldn’t be going any better!” she says with a big smile on her face.
“You got good news from this appointment?” you ask.
“We’ll start next week our first round,” she explains, and you instantly hug her.
You’re so excited for her. You know how much it means to her to have a baby, and knowing that the whole process will start next week makes you incredibly happy for her. You can’t wait to have another niece or nephew.
Your sister then decides to join her daughter and Jungkook to check up on them. Ivy couldn’t be happier than she is right now.
“Little lady,” she says when she’s next to them. “I leave you with your aunt, and you decide to trick a young man into showing you his bike?”
She laughs with her entire soul, which is an absolutely adorable sound, by the way.
“He’s aunty’s friend,” she explains to her mom. “He agreed to show it to me.”
For the first time since he showed up, his gaze lands on you, and damn, your heart stops beating instantly. The softness in his eyes and the way they glow get the best out of you. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, but you know that this moment fills him with joy. And man, you’re so glad your niece asked for this.
Your sister introduces herself to him, and for a little moment, they discuss. She’s completely charmed by him, just like her daughter. You look at everything from the outside and simply let them discuss. You wouldn’t want to influence the opinions they’ll have of each other.
Somehow, it scares you that he got to meet your sister while you’re still figuring things out between you. But at the same time, it reassures you, because if she believes he’s an asshole, you’ll know where you stand.
He and Ivy end up leaving the bike, and you join them so you can say goodbye to your sister and your niece. When your sister hugs you, she says, “He’s definitely a keeper, so don’t mess things up.”
You hold her even tighter and close your eyes for a second. Knowing that she appreciates him fills your heart.
“Now, let’s go home, Ivy,” your sister says to her daughter.
The little girl waves at you as they disappear into the street. Her car must be parked somewhere, hopefully not too far, so they don’t have to walk too much.
“So, where do you want to go?” Jungkook asks when you’re alone.
“Like now?” you ask with surprise, and he simply nods. “Well, I don’t have the most appropriate clothes.”
“We can stay at your place if you want,” he suggests.
Honestly, you don’t really know what you want to do right now. Staying at your place isn’t what you want to do at this precise moment, but you also look like an absolute mess, so you don’t really know if it’s a good idea to even go somewhere.
“Maybe we can go to the little coffee shop you talked about the other day,” you suggest. “But I’ll just need to change before.”
His hand takes yours, pushing you closer to him. His breath instantly falls on your face as you both get lost in each other’s gaze.
“No need to change,” he whispers. “You look good.”
“But—”
Before you can even add something, his lips find yours for a soft and gentle kiss. It catches you a bit off guard at first, but you reciprocate quite quickly. Your hands find their way to his neck, pulling him closer while his hands rest on your back. If this is how it’s going to be every time you see him, well, you already can’t wait for next time.
When you break the kiss, you look at him with the silliest smile on your face. These moments with him bring so much peace and happiness to your heart. You definitely don’t ever want to let him go, especially since there’s still much more to discover about him.
“You can’t do that to shut me up,” you gently hit his chest.
“I wanted to do it the second you appeared with your niece,” he confesses.
“Still, it’s not an excuse,” you tell him.
“I—”
And you do as he did to you: you kiss him to shut him up. He instantly kisses you back with a passion that could be overwhelming if it wasn’t welcomed. Your fingers play with his hair at the nape of his neck, as his fingers stroke your back with such gentleness.
“Let’s go to the coffee shop,” he whispers when you break apart. “Before we keep kissing over and over.” And just like that, you climb on his bike and disappear into the street.
As time goes on, you’ve been spending more and more time with him. You’re basically inseparable; he’s always showing up at your doorstep and texting you constantly. Going around on his bike has kind of been your love language.
Even though you’ve been having a lot of fun, it’s obvious that it’s becoming very serious between you. You find yourself waiting for his messages and craving to see him constantly. You absolutely love being with him.
So far, you haven’t put a label on whatever is going on, and except for little kisses here and there, nothing physical has happened, which, being honest, makes you happy. You don’t want to turn this relationship into something sexual.
Why?
It’s simple. You want Jungkook to appreciate you for who you are and not for the sex. On top of that, you haven’t been intimate with any men since your last breakup four years ago, so it kind of frightens you to get freaky with him.
He hasn’t initiated or pushed you to do anything like that, and honestly, you couldn’t be more thankful for that. You’re not sure how you would have reacted if he ever did something.
Jungkook has also been nothing but a gentleman. He sometimes accepts letting you pay, even though you can tell it’s hard for him, which always makes you laugh in some way. However, he’ll compensate in another way, like for example, he’ll buy a bouquet of flowers, or he’ll show up at your place with ramen or your favourite chocolates.
Juhee, Hyunri, and your sister have been encouraging you a lot and giving you tons of advice. It’s been helpful whenever you’d feel like it’s too much, because you’re not used to this anymore.
There are some moments where you question everything. You know you shouldn’t because he’s been nothing but a gentleman, giving you the space you need while still being around. A lot of times, you find yourself doubting it all.
“Should you give him a chance? Should you keep doing this? Should you let him fully in?” Those are some of the questions that sometimes cross your mind.
Also, you’ve been used to being on your own and dealing with everything by yourself. And now, you have someone ready to help you whenever you need it. It’s new, and sometimes, you feel like you’re sharing too much. You feel like he might run away, but he never does. He just helps you.
Even compared to your ex, Jungkook is way more present and supportive. Your ex was definitely there and trying to help you out, but it wasn’t the same. You know you can count on Jungkook no matter what, whereas with your ex, you’d sometimes hesitate to share things with him.
And honestly, back then, you would have preferred having Jungkook because you were dealing with a best friend who was dying. Your ex was there even though he wasn't, and you found out later that he was getting closer to the girl he had always had a crush on, which, honestly, is a jerky move.
This weekend, Jungkook invited you to spend it together in a little house out of the city. Obviously, you hesitated at first, but following many conversations with Juhee, Hyunri, and your sister, you agreed to it.
Honestly, it’s such a beautiful place. It’s surrounded by nature, with other small cabins nearby. You don’t know how he found this place, but you’re happy he brought you with him.
“I heard this is the perfect spot to watch the stars,” he tells you Friday night, right after you arrive.
You inevitably look up at the sky, and the stars shine so bright. The sky is absolutely clear, which is hard to see when you live in a city. A smile stretches across your face.
“We could lie down and watch them together, if you want,” he suggests.
“Absolutely!” you enthusiastically reply.
Jungkook grabs a blanket from the inside before placing it on the floor. You both stand next to each other, your eyes focused on the bright sky. You can’t remember the last time you properly looked up there; it feels like you never have the time to slow down and enjoy life.
The two of you remain in silence for a little while, simply enjoying each other's company. Silences with him are never heavy or awkward. They actually are peaceful, as if they’re mending something inside both your hearts.
“I was married once,” he breaks the silence, his eyes still fixed on the sky.
You also don’t look at him, but deep down, you’re happy that he’s mentioning it to you. Never once have you said or commented on anything about it, preferring to wait for him to speak about it.
“Was it a long time ago?” you ask, even though you already know the answer.
“The divorce was settled a year ago,” he replies. “We were together for eight years at the time of the divorce, and we had celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary a couple of months before.”
They were together for a long time, and it’s saddening to know that his marriage didn’t work out. It must be painful to realize that the person you wanted to spend your life with isn’t the one.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” you gently say. “What happened?”
“Time happened,” he replies before pausing for a while. “After a while, we started to grow apart. We were barely spending time together, and whenever we were, it just didn’t feel right. We would always find excuses to avoid each other.”
Picturing a Jungkook avoiding someone he cares for seems absolutely strange. Since you’ve known him, he’s been finding every possible excuse to spend time with you. However, you know that the version of him that you know isn’t the one that he was back then. If anything, the past version of him created this new one.
“My world also changed a lot at some point, and I guess that over time, she stopped accepting it,” he adds. The way his voice breaks at the end makes your heart ache, so your fingers find his to intertwine them, trying to reassure him in some way.
“On top of that, my family never appreciated her. My dad always told me that she was too superficial, so in the end, it didn’t help.”
Jungkook has barely ever talked about his family. You’ve noticed that he never speaks about his mom, which leaves you wondering whether she was ever a part of his life. His father is mentioned here and there, and you can tell he truly loves him. You also know that he has a younger brother.
“Love wasn’t there anymore, and even if it was the right thing to do, it still hurt,” he confesses.
Your eyes drift from the stars to his face. It’s plainly evident that it still affects him, but you guess it’s the aftermath of a divorce. If you get married in the first place, it’s because you loved the person so deeply. A divorce can feel like a failure.
“I really thought she was the one,” he says, his eyes meeting yours now.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” you tell him.
Even though you wouldn’t be here with him today if he was still with her, it’s still sad.
“I’m too,” he confesses. “But I don’t regret it.” Your eyebrows furrow, not sure what he means. “A divorce isn’t easy, don’t get me wrong, but when it’s not working, there’s no point in staying. We weren’t happy, and I don’t regret choosing to end things.” Jungkook pauses for a moment, his gaze lost on yours. “And I wouldn’t have met you.”
Your heart is seconds away from bursting with joy, and your hand squeezes his. For sure, if his marriage had worked, you wouldn’t have met him, or maybe you would have met him with his ex-wife.
“And believe me, getting to know you has been the best thing to ever happen in my life,” he adds.
The confession hits you harder than expected. Heat instantly rushes to your face, and for a second, you genuinely don’t know what to do with yourself. How are you even supposed to respond to something like that? Nothing you could possibly say would ever sound as meaningful as his words.
“You can’t say things like that,” you shily say.
“I’m just stating the truth,” he says. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
Inevitably, you hide yourself in the crook of his neck, which makes him giggle, and his arms wrap around your body, holding you as tightly as possible. His strong scent invades your nostrils, and god, he smells so good. Jungkook chuckles, his chest vibrating against your body.
“Why are you hiding?” he asks as his hand runs through your hair.
“Because when you say things like that,” you mumble against his neck, “I don’t know what to do with them.”
“You don’t have to do anything with them,” he adds softly as his fingers keep running through your hair. Jungkook shifts just enough to press a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “I’m not saying it so you’ll give me something back,” he continues. “I just want you to know.”
Your arms wrap around him, and you simply hold him tight against you. What have you done to deserve someone like him? He’s just so patient with you; it’s simply unbelievable.
“I’m also happy I got to meet you,” you mumble against his neck. “Everything seems easier with you.” Revealing your feelings isn’t something you’re comfortable with, but since he’s been nothing but adorable with you, it just feels right to let him know what you think, too.
“Things don’t have to be complicated,” he says quietly. “At least, not with me.” He pauses for a second. “I really like you, and that’s enough for me.” His thumb brushes lightly against your side. “And if you let me, I’ll keep being there,” he adds.
This simple moment fills your heart in so many ways. A little silence settles between you, and you close your eyes, focusing on the way his heart beats against his chest. As expected, he sounds very calm and relaxed, which also appeases you.
“I really want to be there for you,” he continues after a while.
“You already are,” you mindabsentedly reply.
“Not like that,” he says, his head shaking lightly. “More like being part of your life for as long as you allow me to be.”
Suddenly, the thought of him implying he wants to date you makes your heart rate increase crazily. Are you truly ready to have a boyfriend? You’re not really sure, but the answer almost feels evident. You want him to be your boyfriend—more than anything else in the world.
Jungkook chuckles before saying, “I might sound old school, but what I’m trying to say is that I’d love nothing more than to have you as my girlfriend.”
The biggest smile appears on your face as you squeeze him in your embrace. Even if he probably didn’t plan it, having him say those words under a sky full of stars and in such a cute setting makes this all incredibly romantic.
You push back a bit to be able to see him, your smile never fading away, and the second he sees you, the most glowy smile stretches on his lips. He’s very handsome.
“Do I get to call you my boyfriend?” you sillily ask.
“Absolutely! It’s even a requirement,” he replies.
“Then, you can have me as your girlfriend.”
Jungkook doesn’t wait even a second more before crashing his lips against yours. Tonight is by far the best night of your life.
The days went by with Jungkook by your side, as your boyfriend. It has been the most exciting and nervous thing you’ve ever experienced. The patience he has with you never seems to stop surprising you.
However, today isn’t honestly one of the greatest days. The day was rather long, work was too intense, and you worked overtime. You barely took a lunch break, but you didn’t have much choice if you wanted to finish your tasks for the day. To say you’re tired is an understatement. You haven’t told Jungkook anything yet, but sincerely, you don’t think you need to. It will just bother him, you’re sure of it. What’s the point of even telling him everything went wrong today? It’s best if you just rest and stay by yourself tonight.
The doorbell echoes in your apartment, and you take a deep breath. Who could it be? Who’s about to ruin your night?
When you see him on the interphone, your heart squeezes instantly. You directly regret thinking or being even mad about him bothering you tonight. Without hesitation, you let him in, and seconds later, he’s standing in front of you. A small smile crosses his face when he sees you, but you don’t really smile back at him.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” you tell him.
His expression shifts slightly. “I was nearby and thought I’d come to see you.”
It’s like he understands something is off because he doesn’t even try to kiss you. Blaming him about it doesn’t sound like the right move at this precise moment, especially since you don’t know if you should or not.
“Is it okay?” he then asks. “I could leave if you want me to.”
“No, it’s fine,” you answer quickly.
You step aside to let him in, your shoulder brushing lightly against his as he passes. Usually, he would head directly to the living room, but he doesn’t tonight. He just waits behind you, his helmet in his hand, as you close the door. His eyes don’t ever leave your body, and you can tell that he knows something’s off, but he won’t ask if you don’t say it.
“I just arrived from work,” you tell him.
A small silence settles between you. For the first time, you can see hesitation in his eyes, like he doesn’t know what to do. This surprises you as he’s always confident and knows what to do.
“Long day?” he breaks the silence.
You shrug, moving past him to move to the kitchen and putting some space between you. “It was just work,” you say as you open the fridge without really looking inside.
Behind you, you hear his footsteps as he tries to close the distance between you.
“I could’ve picked you up,” he says as he reaches the kitchen.
“I didn’t need that,” you reply.
Your words come out sharper than you meant. Behind you, you hear the faint shift of his weight, but he doesn’t move closer. Not once do you look around to see him. It’s like you need to avoid seeing his gaze on you, as if you’ll completely break down if you do.
“I didn’t say you did,” he replies calmly.
You close the fridge door before exhaling and running a hand through your hair. Then, you turn around to face him. The sight in front of you almost breaks your heart. He’s standing there, looking almost defeated and absolutely powerless.
“I know, I just…” You stop, frustrated with yourself. “You don’t have to show up all the time.”
His brows pull together slightly. “I just wanted to see you,” he says with a shaky and weak voice.
And that just breaks you. You just hurt him, not on purpose, but you still did it. Now, you feel stupid and selfish.
“I’m not used to that,” you admit, quieter now.
“To what?”
Jungkook doesn’t attempt to get closer. He stays where he is and simply looks at you, quietly studying you from afar.
“This,” you gesture vaguely between you. “I’m not used to having someone just be there,” you pause for a second. “All the time.”
Jungkook nods slowly, but doesn’t react straight away to your words. Knowing him, you’d say that his silence allows him to carefully think about his next words. And that comforts you. Right now, you don’t need someone blaming you for how you feel.
“I’m not trying to be everywhere,” he finally says. “I just don’t want to be absent either.”
You look at him, your chest tightening slightly. “I’ve been fine on my own,” you then say.
“I know,” he answers.
Over the past four months, you haven’t hidden how you’ve been by yourself for the past four years. And having him by your side isn’t always easy. Your peace has been thrown upside down since Yoongi’s birthday. Obviously, you’re grateful to have met him, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t destabilize you. You need time to adjust to all of this.
“I’m not trying to take that away from you.”
“Then, why does it feel like you are?” you ask, before you can even stop yourself.
If you hadn’t hurt him so far, you’re sure you did now. And you wouldn’t blame him if he leaves you right now. He has all the rights to. You’re not being fair to him, but it’s just how you feel. It makes you feel like you’re doomed to remain single for the rest of your life.
After a moment, he takes a hesitant step toward you. He still keeps his distance, and you just watch him move. A part of you wishes he’d get closer, but another part would like him to remain right where he is.
“I think,” he says slowly. “You’re just not used to someone staying.”
Your throat tightens, the tears seconds away to run down your face, and you look away—too coward to face him.
“That’s not—”
You can’t finish the sentence, because he’s not entirely wrong. Jungkook takes another step in your direction, but you still don’t look at him. You can now feel his presence right in front of you, and you really want to look at him, but you’re internally struggling.
“I don’t need you to need me,” he says quietly. “That’s not why I’m here.”
Jungkook doesn’t try to touch you. He just stays in front of you, reminding you for the millionth time that he’s here. He’s here for you, even when you struggle with it.
“I just want to be part of your life,” he adds. “At your pace.”
Something in your chest shifts, and you finally glance back at him. He’s really close, but you don’t do anything to push him away.
“I don’t know how to do that,” you admit.
“I know,” he says. “And it’s okay.”
There’s no judgment or pressure. There’s just understanding, as if whatever you just said makes sense to him. Then, slowly, you close the small distance between the two of you and nestle your face against his chest. He doesn’t hesitate a second before wrapping his strong arms around you, holding you as tight as possible. You close your eyes, hearing the melody of his heartbeat.
You don’t know how to deal with all of this; it’s frightening at times, but knowing that he’ll never pressure you is enough comfort for you. He’s not forcing you to embrace this all. He’s letting you do things at your own pace, which, let’s be honest, is a completely new concept to you. Even with your ex, it was totally different.
And that’s how you fall more in love with Jungkook.
You don’t fall for his sweet and beautiful words. You fall for the way he shows you over and over again that he isn’t going anywhere.
Being intimate physically with Jungkook is something you know will happen eventually. You’ve been officially together for two months now, and god, he’s hot as hell. There are moments when you just want to jump on him and let him ruin you in every way he wants. However, it also scares you.
You haven’t been intimate with a man for over four years; you’re not even sure you know how to have sex anymore. Sometimes, you still touch yourself, but it’s not the same. You’re on your own when you do it. Here, it’ll be with Jungkook. When you ovulate, all those frightening thoughts are thrown out of the window. And you know he has picked it up, but he holds back as the perfect gentleman that he is. Knowing him, you’d say that he’s waiting for it to happen naturally.
Tonight, you’re staying at his place. He prepared a fantastic dinner, as usual—he has turned into your own personal chef by now—and now, you’re both in his bed, simply discussing. You’re nuzzled together, your head on his chest, while he holds you close.
“In two weeks, it’s my little brother’s birthday,” he tells you, as his fingers trace circles on your back.
A smile spreads across your face as he mentions his brother. Lately, he has started to speak more about his sibling, mentioning how it has been to grow up with him and how much he cares about him. But other than that, he doesn’t speak much about his family, and honestly, if it’s a matter that triggers him, pressuring him to open up to you seems absolutely wrong, especially considering how he treats you.
“He’s planning a party?” you ask with curiosity.
“Yeah, dad planned something,” he tells you. “He always does for our birthdays.”
“That’s nice,” you tell him.
His fingers stop on your back, and you instantly understand that it might not sound ‘nice’ to him. “I wouldn’t say nice, but yeah, he does it…”
He pauses for a moment, his hand wrapping against your side as if he’s trying to hold onto something.
“He’s mostly trying to compensate for his absence,” he confesses after a while. Again, you don’t say anything, so he can reveal what feels comfortable for him.
“My dad was never there for us,” he continues. “Wasn’t there for any achievement, not even for our graduations. It was actually a miracle that he made it to my wedding.” Your heart clutches at the thought of a small Jungkook abandoned by his dad. “I know he went through tough things; it wasn’t easy for him as well.” he pauses for a bit. “The good side was that my mom compensated for him. She was present, taking care of my brother and me, and loving us equally.”
You push your body a bit back to look at him properly. Jungkook’s eyes are glued to the ceiling, but you can tell that sadness fills them. He swallows thickly, and your hand softly caresses his arms, trying to give him enough comfort to keep going. When his eyes finally meet yours, it just shatters you.
“Hyejo wasn’t my mom,” he confesses. “My mom died when I was two, and my dad remarried two years later. She loved me from the moment she saw me and treated me as hers since the very beginning,” a small smile appears on his face. “I don’t remember anything from before her, but to me, she’s always been there. And nothing changed after my brother’s birth.”
Jungkook places a strand of hair behind your ear, as if he needs to distract himself for a second.
“She was my mom even if she hadn’t given birth to me,” he tells you. “And there were moments in my life when I felt like I was betraying my birth mom.”
Imagining a young Jungkook blaming himself for loving another woman other than his mom is heart-crushing.
“Hyejo was my dad and my mom altogether, and I always held her dearly in my heart,” he continues. “She even walked me down the aisle for my wedding.”
A sincere smile appears on his face, and you can tell the memory is very special to him.
“Unfortunately, five years ago, she passed away,” he reveals.
So, she’s the person he lost. Losing his mother must have destroyed him on so many levels. If you barely managed to get yourself together after Lucas’s death, you can’t even imagine how he felt.
“I’m so sorry,” you mumble.
Jungkook simply nods and runs a finger down your face. It mustn’t be easy for him to reveal all of this, and you feel beyond grateful that he felt comfortable enough to share it with you.
“After that, my dad stopped being absent.”
Now that you know this, you understand why Jungkook is the way he is. Growing up with a dad who’s never there impacts the person you grow into. It’s like he promised himself that he’d never be absent. With you, he makes his presence known under any circumstances.
“It’s good to have him now, but it’ll never erase the past,” he admits. “My brother is still struggling with that and always throws it at this face.”
“And you?” you ask with concern.
“I forgave him years ago,” he replies. “I grew up as an angry teenager and hated him with all my soul, but it was destroying me more than anything else. So, I made my peace with it.”
That totally sounds like him. The opposite would have surprised you.
“My brother is trying to change,” he continues. “The death of our mother changed his perception of our dad, but there’s still a lot of anger inside him.”
“It takes a lot of courage to forgive someone who hurt us deeply,” you tell him.
“I know,” he says. “It’s a lot of work.”
Out of all the people, he’s the one who knows that best.
“I hope he’ll find the same strength to do it,” you reply.
“I hope so, too,” he says.
A little silence settles between you. You simply look at each other, body against body, his fingers touching your face with a tenderness that can mend any soul.
“I truly admire you for that,” you break the silence.
“Thanks, love,” he replies.
Jungkook leans down and presses the softest kiss on your lips. Your hands wrap around his neck, pushing him even closer. The confession makes you feel so many things for him right now—pride, admiration, and even more love.
His past could have turned him into an awful man, but it did the opposite. It made him a man with a beautiful soul. It gave him the strength to be different from his dad. It gave him the strength to give love back despite everything.
And man, that does something to your heart.
You feel even more grateful to have met him. Life has been blessing you with the gentlest of souls, and you definitely don’t intend on letting him go, even if it might be hard for you at times. This is all new to you, but he stays despite it all.
His arm slides around your waist, pulling you closer, just enough to close the space left between you. Your legs tangle slightly under the sheets, your body naturally settling against his. Not once do you stop kissing. It actually deepens more and more.
There’s no doubt where this is going.
Your hands find his shirt to push it off his head and run through his firm body. A little moan escapes his lips, but you swallow it with your mouth. Your top follows the same path when he strips it off your body. The moment the cold air brushes against your bare chest, shivers run down your body.
Those shivers suddenly bring you down, and you realize what is about to happen.
“Wait,” you say against his lips, pushing him away.
“Something’s wrong?” he asks.
You swallow hard, thoughts flying through your mind. Jungkook’s gaze is full of concern, and for a brief moment, you look away.
“It’s just—”
The words seem stuck in your throat.
“Sorry,” you shake your head.
“Hey,” he murmurs, voice low and gentle. “Talk to me.”
The way he looks at you and the way his fingers brush against your skin encourage you to open up to him.
“I’m scared,” you admit. “I haven’t done anything in over four years.”
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “We don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to.”
Right now, your entire body craves him with a desperation you can’t quite name. You want this more than anything else, but your mind keeps reminding you that you haven’t done anything in ages.
“I want to,” your voice is barely audible. “I really do.” You pause for a bit, trying to gather all your thoughts and express out loud what is going on inside your head. “Nobody has seen me naked, and…” you’re not even sure you’ll be able to continue, but you have to. “I’m scared you find me ugly.”
Jungkook exhales shakily and presses his forehead against yours. “There is nothing ugly about you, love,” he softly says. His hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers together. “You’re absolutely drop-dead gorgeous,” he continues. “There’s not a single part of you that's ugly.”
“How can you know that?” you whisper. “You’ve never seen me bare.”
He takes a deep breath, his free hand running through your cheeks.
“When you told me about losing your friend, that felt more intimate to me than seeing you naked,” he tells you. “Being vulnerable with someone means more to me than anything physical could ever.”
How does he always find the right words? It’s like he holds some sort of superpower. That must be it. Jungkook brings your intertwined fingers to his lips, kissing your knuckles, your wrist, and your forearm. The wet kisses ease you a bit, but nothing can ever compare to what he just said.
“Okay,” you say after a while.
“Okay?” he repeats, trying to be sure that you really and fully agree.
You nod before saying, “I really want this.”
“I’ll be slow and careful, but let me know if I overstep,” he tells you.
At first, he moves as if he might break you. His hands run over your body slowly and carefully, as if he’s trying to map your body with his palms. They never linger too long in one place. Your gaze follows his every movement, while his is completely focused on your body.
The remaining clothes slowly disappear from both your bodies, and seeing him naked as well helps you feel at ease. It still isn’t easy, and every time your body tenses, he stops and kisses you gently. There’s nothing but love in every single movement of his body.
Slowly, but surely, his fingers find your wet core, which makes you arch and moan at the same time. The feeling of his cold fingers running through your folds sends shivers down your spine and ignites a fire from within you.
When he slips a finger inside you, pleasure instantly takes over your body. This is new, and it feels so so good. Jungkook takes it easy, giving you all the time to adjust before he adds a second finger.
Your eyes flutter shut to enjoy this moment, but you can feel his gaze on you. The mere thought that this was scaring you minutes ago seems unbelievable. Jungkook leans down to press a kiss on your lips.
“Let me know if it’s too much,” he mumbles against your lips when he slips a third finger.
After so many years without experiencing this kind of exquisite torture, you come as soon as his third finger is inside you. It seems too quick, but god, nobody fingered you in years. And Jungkook does it really well.
However, he doesn’t stop; he keeps fingering you through your orgasm. Your moans get louder and louder, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to keep up with this if he keeps going. The stretch of his fingers feels marvelous. It’s like you’re transported into another dimension. When the second orgasm rips through you seconds later, he takes his fingers out and licks them. That sight alone could make you come because he looks like pure sin.
“Are you okay?” he asks as he takes his fingers off his mouth. As you’re unable to speak, you simply nod. “Good,” he smiles. “Do you want to keep going?”
His concern melts your heart. This is actually so sweet.
“I do,” you reply.
Jungkook stands up, disappears into his bathroom, and comes back with a box of condoms. As he walks toward the bed, he takes one and tears it from the foil. He kneels before you, settling between your opened legs.
“I haven’t done this in years,” he chuckles as he struggles to put the condom on.
“Do you need help?” you ask.
“No,” he shakes his head as he focuses on the task.
After a couple of seconds, he succeeds in placing it and presses his body against yours. His hand grabs his cock to rub it against your folds.
“If it’s too much, you stop me, okay?” he asks. “At any moment.”
You nod. He clearly gives a lot of importance to consent, which is great. Having sex for the first time with your boyfriend is kind of an intense and special moment. It’s better to turn it into a good memory, filled with respect for each other.
When he finally slides inside you, the stretch almost feels too overwhelming. You’ve read and heard that after going several years without sex, your hole goes back to how it was when you were a virgin. You wouldn’t believe any of it, but now that you’re back at it, you couldn’t agree more. It’s like you’re losing your virginity all over again.
Jungkook halts once he’s fully inside, giving you all the time in the world to adjust. Honestly, you’re grateful he does it because you really need it. Your body needs to learn all over again to have a cock inside. His body leans over yours, his lips pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek. Your arms wrap around his back, and you can’t help but hide your face in his neck. Jungkook holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.
“Let me know when I can move,” he whispers against your ear.
“Just give me a bit more time,” you tell him.
Your boyfriend remains still for as long as you need him to, and after a couple of seconds, you give him the green light. When his hips start rocking slowly, you’re instantly brought to heaven. His body brings pleasure to you like never before.
Everything feels so intense and consuming. You’re not sure if it’s due to the fact that you haven’t had sex in years, but it’s so so good. Jungkook is nothing but a sweetheart. His movements are slow, careful, and full of love. His lips kiss every part of your face and neck, bringing you to your orgasm through love. This is so intimate; you’ve never experienced sex like this.
The act itself is kind of dirty with all the body fluids leaking everywhere, the sweat all over your body, and the moans, but the way he does it turns it into a vulnerable moment. It’s not about sex. It’s about the love and attraction you both feel for each other.
When you cum, your entire body spasms violently while his name falls from your lips. The pleasure overwhelms you in a wonderful way, and you wish this would never stop. Your walls squeeze him so strongly that it pushes him to his release, coming inside the condom.
His body falls on top of yours while you both try to catch your breaths. When he pulls out to remove the condom and throw it, you feel empty and cold. Seconds later, he comes back to bed, wrapping your body against yours after he pushes the sheets on your bodies. One of his hands strokes your back in slow circles while the other remains in your lower back, pushing you as close as possible.
With all the emotions running through you, you fall asleep in the comfort of his warmth around you.
Two weeks later, it is rumored that the CEO of the company you work for is selling it to a worldwide group. People around you have been talking about it nonstop. Honestly, you haven’t paid much attention to them. As long as you keep your job, you don’t care, and it’s also just rumors; it doesn’t mean it’s true.
Jungkook told you yesterday he’ll have an important meeting today, and you promised him you’d spend the night together, eating junk food and watching some silly romcom to decompress. You’re planning to meet at your place, because it’ll be closer for him.
Your eyes look down at the phone in your hands before you send a quick message to your boyfriend, suggesting to order pizzas for tonight. Before he arrives at your place, you want to have everything ready, so he just has to come and sit down. You really want to take care of him, just like he does with you. He deserves it all.
A reply comes quite quickly, where he tells you that it sounds good. You’re already planning to order from his favourite place right before you leave, so you can pick it up on your way home. Hopefully, the pizzas will still be warm when he joins you.
jungkook 🏍️: can’t wait to be with you ❤️
This makes you smile, and it just warms your heart. Why does he always have to be so cute? Instantly, you let him know that you miss him so much. If you could, you’d bring him to your work, so you never have to be apart.
“Have you heard the news?” your coworker Ana asks as she appears next to you.
Instantly, you put your phone down to look at her. Her desk is right next to yours, and she’s always so into all the gossip going around. She’s the one who told you about those rumors concerning the sale.
“What news?” you frown.
“Well, the head of that worldwide group is coming today to meet the CEO,” she explains.
Honestly, you want to tell her that you don’t care, but that would be rude. And you also don’t want her to stop to tell you all the juicy gossip from the office.
“It’s official then?” you ask her.
“It doesn’t confirm if he’s selling, but looks like he is,” she adds.
“Hopefully, we won’t lose our jobs,” you reply, which makes her chuckle.
“Yeah, I hope so too,” she says.
If that guy is money-oriented, for sure, a lot of restructuring plans and other bullshit like that will happen. You truly hope it won’t happen because you love this job, and it’d be a shame to lose it, but this goes beyond yourself.
“But I heard that he’s kind of hot,” she adds. “If you weren’t so enamored with your Gukkie, you could have tried to seduce him and convince him not to fire us.”
You can’t help but laugh while shaking your head. This woman always pulls things like that, as if it was absolutely normal. “You really think I would have managed to?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re hot and sexy too,” she replies.
“But he’s like the head of a group,” you tell her. “Those kinds of guys are unapproachable.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” she mumbles in defeat. “It’s best you keep your man.”
By far, you’d prefer Jungkook to some guy who probably thinks the world belongs to him. Usually, those men believe they’re better than anyone else, which is the total opposite of your boyfriend. She goes back to her desk, and you look down again at your phone. There’s a notification—a message from Jungkook where he says that you’ll be together soon.
The only thought of being with him after work thrills you more than anything else. For sure, you’ll mention this whole story to him, because there’s no way you’ll be hiding that Ana tried to convince you to seduce some random wealthy stranger. You can’t wait to see his face.
A couple of minutes later, there’s a lot of agitation around you, and your coworkers whisper things. Inevitably, you look behind you, trying to understand what’s going on. You try to find Ana, but she’s nowhere to be seen, which is annoying because you’re sure she’d know what is going on.
Then, you look to your right. For a moment, it feels like you’re hallucinating. A man is walking in the hallways who strikingly looks like Jungkook. Your heartbeat instantly increases, your eyes follow him, and your mind goes completely blank. It’s him. There’s no doubt.
He’s wearing his lucky suit—the one he only uses for important meetings. You’ve seen him wearing it a couple of times. His hair is pushed the exact same way as in the picture he sent you an hour ago. What is he doing here? And why is everyone looking at him?
“Who is he?” you ask another coworker.
“It’s Jeon Jungkook,” John tells you.
Your heart drops instantly. Yeah, now, you’re a hundred percent sure that it’s him—your boyfriend.
“He’s the head of the Jeon Group and CEO of Jeon Pharmaceuticals,” he continues. “Apparently, he wants to buy the company.”
Your eyes move back to the man walking in the hallway. Never once does he look around; he’s just focused on following the man in front of him. Honestly, you don’t know how to react to the bomb that John just dropped on you.
How on earth are you finding out only now that Jungkook is the son of Jeon Minju, one of the most influential and wealthiest men on earth?
Summary: Yoongi accidentally causes internet chaos during a concert in Mexico, then calls you right after just to get teased for it. Somewhere between embarrassing fancams, late-night flirting, and a random colorful skull from a market, long distance suddenly feels a little harder than usual.
Status: Oneshot
Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader
Word Count: 4.4k~
Genre: Idol!AU, Fluff
Rated: T
Tags: Boyfriend!Yoongi, Secret, Slice of Life, LDR
Posting Date: May 17, 2026
SCC: Ko-fi ☕️ ・ Taglist 📝
That night, Seoul was at its coldest. Light rain had been falling since the afternoon, making the apartment air feel cool and cozy. You had already showered, wearing one of Yoongi’s oversized shirts that somehow had been staying in your closet more often than in his own lately. Your hair was still a little damp when you climbed onto the sofa carrying a thin blanket and a glass of iced americano with almost-melted ice.
The TV had actually been playing a drama for a while, but you weren’t really watching it. Your focus was only on mindlessly scrolling through TikTok. Your FYP that night was completely random—people reviewing spicy food, Jungkook gym edits, videos of angry cats getting bathed.
Until suddenly…
A concert video.
The lights were insanely bright. Fans screaming loud enough to burst your ears even through your phone speaker.
And in the middle of the screen—
Yoongi.
You automatically stopped scrolling.
His hair was soaked with sweat, his breathing still visibly heavy after performing. He was wearing a thin white tank top underneath and a black outer jacket that had already fallen halfway open. His face was red from the heat and exhaustion, but he still looked absurdly handsome in the most annoying way possible.
The caption said:
“HE ACCIDENTALLY TOOK OFF EVERYTHING 😭”
Your eyebrow instantly lifted.
“Hah?”
The video kept playing.
Yoongi was seen pulling off his jacket from behind his neck, probably because he was hot. But somehow, the inner shirt got dragged up with it.
And a split second later—
The entire venue literally exploded.
“KYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAA—”
The fans’ screams cracked from how loud they were.
The camera recording immediately shook violently. Someone dropped their phone downward. Someone else only recorded the venue ceiling because they got too hysterical.
Meanwhile Yoongi…
His expression was priceless.
He instantly stopped moving, blankly staring for one second like his brain was buffering, then quickly pulled his shirt back down while laughing shyly.
You immediately covered your mouth.
Then burst out laughing alone in the living room.
“OH MY GOD.”
Replay.
Replay again.
And the more you replayed it, the funnier it got because he genuinely looked like it was completely accidental. Even the member next to him turned around with a shocked-but-laughing expression.
The next TikTok appeared from another angle.
One zoomed in on Yoongi’s face.
One was in slow motion.
One used dramatic Titanic music.
Another one had the caption:
“Mexico survived earthquakes but not this.”
You practically collapsed against the sofa laughing.
“Poor him…”
But you still replayed it again.
Honestly, it wasn’t just funny.
Yoongi looked way too good there.
That white tank top clung to him because of the sweat. His arms were full of veins after performing. His black hair fell slightly onto his forehead. And his embarrassed, panicked expression somehow made everyone lose their minds even more.
Your phone even started constantly buzzing.
The BTS group chat instantly became chaotic.
Jimin:
hyung trending 😭😭😭
Hoseok:
I TOLD YOU NOT TO TAKE OFF YOUR JACKET ON STAGE
Jungkook:
Mexico will never move on
Namjoon:
internet is gone
You laughed again while screenshotting several videos.
Then without thinking, you opened Yoongi’s chat.
For a few seconds you were still smiling to yourself before finally typing.
You:
[5 screenshots]
Congratulations
Typing…
Typing stopped.
Typing again.
Yoongi:
I want to disappear
You immediately laughed again.
You:
No seriously 😭
This is so funny
Yoongi:
I just wanted to take off my jacket
You:
And accidentally took off your dignity too
Read.
No reply for a few seconds.
Then—
Yoongi:
You’re enjoying this way too much huh
You:
Very much
Yoongi:
Mean
You:
An entire stadium screamed like they got jumpscared
Yoongi:
I was shocked too
You:
Your face was so funny 😭😭😭
You replayed the video again while grinning to yourself.
Especially the part where Yoongi immediately pulled his shirt back down with an expression like “what the hell just happened?”
You even zoomed in on a certain screenshot.
Oh.
Oh no.
His arms were insane though.
Without realizing it, you took another screenshot.
You:
Btw are your arms even legal?
Yoongi took longer to reply this time.
Maybe he was showering. Maybe eating. Or maybe regretting his life because the entire internet was now filled with fancams of him.
Finally the chat bubble appeared again.
Yoongi:
Are you thirst tweeting now too?
You:
I’m a victim of the timeline
Yoongi:
Delete TikTok
You:
Can’t
The entertainment tonight is too good
Yoongi:
I’m tired
You:
But handsome
Read.
No reply for about a minute.
Then suddenly your phone screen showed an incoming video call.
You instantly laughed before answering.
The moment it connected, Yoongi’s face immediately filled the screen.
His hair was still slightly wet after showering. He was now wearing a loose black shirt with the collar hanging lower on one side. His skin was still slightly flushed from the concert and hot shower. He sat leaning against the hotel sofa while staring at you with a tired face.
“Just keep laughing.”
The second you heard his raspy post-performance voice, you laughed even harder.
“Sorry—really sorry but this is genuinely funny…”
Yoongi closed his eyes briefly while letting out a long sigh.
“I opened my phone and it was pure chaos.”
“Well that’s your fault.”
“It wasn’t intentional.”
“You know people are saying Mexico lost their minds tonight?”
“I want to uninstall the internet.”
You were still smiling widely while staring at the screen.
And damn it, the more you looked at him now, the more you kept thinking about him earlier on stage.
Sweaty. Heavy breathing. Tense arms.
God.
Yoongi watched your face for a few seconds.
Then the corner of his lips lifted slightly.
“Oh.”
“What oh.”
“So you were freaking out too apparently.”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“I was just surprised.”
“How many times did you replay it?”
You instantly went silent.
Yoongi narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Exactly.”
“…a few.”
“How many is a few?”
“Well… several.”
“You took screenshots too.”
Your eyes widened immediately.
“How do you know?!”
“I can tell from your face.”
“What’s wrong with my face?”
“You look guilty.”
You let out a small huff while leaning back against the sofa again.
Yoongi watched you with a faint smile. Even exhausted like that, he still had energy to tease you.
“You seriously…” you muttered quietly.
“What?”
“You made an entire country hysterical.”
“One country is exaggerating.”
“No it’s not. Their screaming was terrifying.”
Yoongi just laughed softly.
And oh my god, that soft laugh.
You hated how easily he made your heart feel weird just from his voice alone.
“You need to see the edits now,” you said while reopening TikTok. “Someone already made a slow motion version.”
“Don’t show me.”
“Too late.”
You played one video.
The second the hysterical fan screams blasted from your phone, Yoongi immediately covered his face with one hand.
“OH MY GOD.”
You burst out laughing again.
“Your expression is so funny!”
“I’m genuinely embarrassed.”
“It’s rare seeing you this embarrassed.”
“Because it wasn’t intentional.”
“You literally buffered on stage.”
“I panicked.”
“It showed.”
Yoongi sighed deeply while sinking further into the hotel sofa.
His shirt shifted slightly higher around the sleeves.
And you… unconsciously glanced again.
Yoongi noticed.
Very noticed.
“What are you doing?”
“Hm?”
“You keep staring.”
“I’m not.”
“You think I don’t know?”
You instantly got flustered.
“Fine, maybe a little.”
“You said it was funny.”
“It is funny.”
“So what is it now?”
You bit your lip briefly before quietly answering,
“…handsome too.”
Yoongi went silent for a few seconds.
Then he smiled very slightly.
A thin smile.
The kind that made your heart melt because he genuinely looked happy hearing it.
“You make me feel confident so easily.”
“Hey don’t get too confident.”
“Why?”
“Or you’ll intentionally take your shirt off at concerts.”
He immediately laughed.
“I’m not that bad.”
“You sure?”
“You’ve already seen it plenty of times too.”
And like someone pressed pause—
You instantly froze.
“…what?”
Yoongi casually leaned back while looking at you.
“Why are you pretending to be shocked now?”
“MIN YOONGI.”
“What?”
“That’s a different context.”
“What’s the difference?”
“AN ENTIRE STADIUM SAW THIS.”
“But who sees it the most often?”
Your cheeks instantly heated up.
“That’s not the point—”
“You literally sleep hugging me every night.”
“STOP.”
“And now you’re embarrassed?”
You immediately covered your face with a sofa pillow while groaning in embarrassment.
Yoongi just laughed victoriously from the other side.
“Finally embarrassed too.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“You started it earlier.”
“But now you’re doing it on purpose!”
“Hm.”
“What do you mean hm.”
“It’s cute seeing you flustered.”
You peeked from behind the pillow.
Yoongi was still smiling faintly while watching you. His face looked far more relaxed now compared to the beginning of the call.
And strangely enough, you really loved being the reason he relaxed after a long concert like this.
“You’re really tired huh?” you finally asked, your voice softer.
Yoongi nodded slightly.
“A little.”
“Did you eat?”
“Yeah.”
“Drink water?”
“Yes, mom.”
“Yoongi.”
He laughed softly again.
“I drank.”
You watched his face for a few seconds.
His eyes were slightly red from exhaustion. His voice sounded heavier too. But he still called you just because you teased him about that stupid wardrobe malfunction earlier.
Your chest warmed on its own.
“You should sleep later,” you said quietly.
“Later.”
“Don’t keep saying later.”
He looked at you for a moment.
Then quietly said,
“I miss you.”
Your expression instantly softened.
“…it’s only been a week.”
“Long.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“Yeah.”
You smiled faintly.
And for a few seconds, you just stared at each other through the screen, both exhausted but comfortable.
Until Yoongi finally spoke again casually,
“But seriously.”
“Hm?”
“You were more excited than the Mexico fans.”
You instantly glared.
“Because that’s my boyfriend.”
“Oh so you were jealous?”
“A little.”
“Aigoo…”
“What do you mean aigoo.”
“You’re cute.”
“Not cute.”
“You’re jealous over an accidental shirt slip.”
“It sounds stupid when you say it like that.”
“Because it is funny.”
You huffed in embarrassment.
And Yoongi, who had looked half-dead exhausted this whole time, just smiled even softer while quietly saying,
“The one who sees the most is still you anyway.”
You immediately collapsed backward onto the sofa while covering your face.
“OH MY GOD MIN YOONGI.”
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
You were still lying flat on the sofa with your face covered by a pillow, while Yoongi’s soft laughter kept coming from your phone speaker.
Satisfied laughter. The kind of laughter from someone who realized he had successfully made his girlfriend malfunction.
“Get up.”
“No.”
“Why are you so embarrassed?”
“Because you said it like that!”
“But it’s true.”
You lowered the pillow slightly, glaring at the screen.
“Yoongi.”
“Hm?”
“Don’t flirt when your face still looks like this after a concert.”
He raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Why?”
“Dangerous.”
That smile immediately appeared again. Small, crooked, annoying.
“I’m literally just sitting here.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem.”
Yoongi laughed softly while resting his head against the hotel sofa. The dim room lighting made the lines of his face look even sharper. His black hair was still slightly damp and falling over his forehead in a way that looked way too good for someone claiming to be exhausted.
And the thing making your heart race the most— He looked so comfortable right now. Relaxed. Soft. But his eyes hadn’t left you this entire time.
“You seriously…” you muttered quietly while avoiding his gaze, “you just caused internet chaos and still have time to tease me.”
“Because I miss you.”
His answer came too fast. Too honest. Your heart instantly skipped weirdly.
“You usually get clingy when you’re tired,” you said, trying to sound casual.
“And?”
“And right now I can’t hug you.”
Yoongi went quiet for a moment.
His expression immediately softened a little more.
“I know.”
The atmosphere suddenly became calmer.
You were already used to tour schedules. Used to video calls from different countries. Used to falling asleep on call until one of you passed out first.
But somehow this time felt different.
Maybe because Yoongi’s schedule was too packed. Maybe because you had gotten too used to being close before he left. Or maybe because right now he was looking at you like that while seeming like he really wanted to come home.
“You know,” he suddenly said, his voice low and raspy, “right after the concert, the first thing I did was check my phone for your message.”
You instantly looked back at the screen.
“Seriously?”
“Hm.”
“Why?”
“I already knew you’d make fun of me.”
You laughed softly.
“And you still looked for it.”
“Because I missed you.”
God. You genuinely couldn’t handle it when he suddenly got soft like this. Especially when he followed it up with a tiny smile while secretly staring at you.
“Yoongi…”
“Hm?”
“You make it hard to sleep.”
“I haven’t even started yet.”
You instantly froze.
“What do you mean you haven’t started?”
He casually shrugged a little.
“You said I was flirting earlier.”
“And?”
“But I was just acting normal.”
Your cheeks instantly heated up again.
“Okay then don’t start.”
“What if I do?”
“MIN YOONGI.”
He laughed softly again. Not loudly, but low enough to make your stomach feel weird. Then he moved slightly closer to the camera. And god. That was a terrible mistake.
Because now his face completely filled your phone screen.
“You know what the funniest part earlier was?” he asked quietly.
“What?”
“You got possessive immediately.”
“I was not possessive.”
“You literally said ‘that’s my boyfriend.’”
“Well he is.”
“And then you got jealous.”
“A little.”
“You really like me huh.”
You instantly glared in embarrassment.
“Overconfident.”
“But it's true.”
You let out a long sigh while covering half your face with the blanket. Yoongi watched you with a faint smile.
“Cute.”
“Don’t call me cute.”
“Why?”
“It just makes me more annoyed.”
“But you’re smiling.”
You reflexively touched your lips.
Damn it.
He was right.
Yoongi instantly looked satisfied.
“I know your expressions by heart.”
“You don’t need to know them by heart.”
“Too late.”
A few seconds later the atmosphere became quiet again. You could hear the hotel AC from his side. Occasionally there were distant sounds from the hallway, but other than that there was only the sound of your breathing.
Yoongi looked really exhausted now. His eyes were half-lidded. His loose black shirt slipped slightly off his shoulder when he moved. And unfortunately it made you remember the earlier video again.
Yoongi noticed again. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re spacing out.”
“I just remembered earlier.”
“Which earlier?”
“You know which one.”
He smiled faintly.
“Oh. The Mexico incident.”
“Don’t call it an incident like it’s a scandal.”
“It felt like one.”
“The internet literally lost its mind.”
“You did too.”
You sighed softly.
“Well how was I supposed to react…”
“Hm?”
“You earlier were…”
You stopped yourself.
Yoongi waited.
And somehow that was worse than if he pushed you.
Because he just quietly stared at you, making you even more nervous.
“What?” he asked again softly.
“…hot.”
Yoongi immediately tried to hold back a smile.
“Oh?”
“Don’t get too confident yet.”
“But you called me hot.”
“You are hot.”
He finally let out a small laugh.
“Wow.”
“You’re not fair.”
“Why?”
“You know exactly what your post-concert face does to people.”
“What does it do?”
“Yoongi.”
“Answer first.”
You covered your face again.
Which only amused him more.
“Aigoo…”
“Stop laughing.”
“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”
“And you’re so evil when you miss me.”
Yoongi went quiet for a moment.
Then with a lower, softer voice—
“I really do miss you badly right now.”
Your heart instantly dropped. The way he said things like that was always dangerous. Not excessive. Not dramatic. But because his tone stayed calm, it somehow felt more real.
“When are you coming home?” you asked softly.
“Still a few more weeks.”
You instantly pouted.
“That’s too long.”
“Hm.”
“I hate long distance.”
“Me too.”
Yoongi slowly rubbed his face before looking at you again.
“That’s why when I get home later, don’t complain.”
“Why do I suddenly feel nervous?”
“You’re the one who called me hot earlier.”
“I REGRET SAYING THAT.”
He laughed again.
“You can’t take it back.”
“Yes I can.”
“No you can’t.”
“You’re annoying.”
“But you miss me.”
You stayed quiet. Because he was right. And Yoongi knew you too well to the point where he could already see the answer before you even said it.
He leaned back again while staring at the screen for a few seconds. Then casually said,
“After the tour, I probably won’t let go of you.”
Your heart dropped.
“Yoongi…”
“Hm?”
“Don’t say things like that while looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“LIKE THAT.”
He laughed softly.
“I’m just saying I miss you.”
“The way you say it is the problem.”
“What if I was at the apartment right now?”
You instantly went completely silent. Yoongi saw your reaction and his smile became even thinner.
“Hmm.”
“Don’t hmm.”
“I’m just imagining it.”
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“A little.”
“Yoongi…”
“I’d probably pull you onto the sofa already.”
Your breath instantly caught.
“And then you’d say you’re tired.”
“I am tired.”
“But you’d still come over to me.”
You genuinely couldn’t handle him once he started talking in that low voice. Especially now that his face already looked sleepy and soft. The deadliest combination.
“And then?” you asked quietly without realizing it.
Yoongi’s eyes immediately lifted slightly.
“Oh, so you want to keep listening.”
“Actually, never mind.”
“No. You asked.”
You bit your lip slightly. And Yoongi saw it. Of course he saw it.
“So dangerous,” he muttered softly.
“What?”
“The way you look when you’re embarrassed.”
You instantly turned your face away. Which only made him smile even more fondly.
“Come home soon okay,” you finally said quietly.
Yoongi’s expression instantly softened again.
“Hm.”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you more.”
“Overconfident.”
“I’ll prove it later.”
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The time difference started becoming more and more annoying once BTS began touring in America.
In Seoul it was already evening while the sun there had only just risen. Sometimes you had just finished work while Yoongi was still at rehearsal. Sometimes you woke up in the morning to dozens of random texts from him sent at three in the morning local time because he couldn’t sleep again.
And the longer the tour went on, the more the longing started to settle in too.
Not the dramatic kind of longing that makes you cry every night. But the kind that appears in small things.
Like when you automatically took out two glasses from the cabinet before realizing you were living alone in the apartment right now. Or when you found Yoongi’s black hoodie still hanging over the living room chair and instinctively hugged it for a second because it still carried traces of his familiar perfume and laundry scent.
Or when you came home exhausted from work and realized there was no Yoongi sprawled across the sofa pretending to sleep just so you would approach him first.
That night you were sitting at the apartment work desk while staring at packaging design files that hadn’t gotten anywhere for hours. The desk lamp glowed brightly while the rest of the apartment stayed dim and quiet. Light rain fell outside the window, making the atmosphere feel calmer and lonelier at the same time.
You had just changed the song on Spotify when your phone vibrated.
Incoming video call:
Yoongi.
A smile instantly appeared on your face without realizing it.
You hadn’t even pressed accept yet, but half your exhaustion was already gone.
The moment the call connected, the screen immediately showed a shaky camera moving everywhere. At first there was only a bright sky and the sound of people passing by. Then a few seconds later Yoongi’s face appeared.
And seriously.
He looked way too relaxed for someone who was supposed to be world famous.
A black cap pulled low. An oversized gray hoodie. His mask was hanging under his chin because he was probably too lazy to talk with it covering his face. Black hair sticking out slightly from under the cap and moving with the wind.
He walked slowly while holding his phone low, like he was genuinely just some ordinary person wandering around an evening market.
Even though he was Min Yoongi.
That was exactly what stressed you out.
“You’re outside?” you asked while automatically sitting up straighter.
“Hm.”
Yoongi’s answers were always short when he was relaxed. His voice sounded heavier from tour exhaustion, but there was a lighter tone that rarely appeared whenever he was genuinely enjoying himself.
The camera shifted slightly, showing small stores around him. Everything was full of color. Neon hanging fabrics, hand-painted ceramics, tiny lights, and faint street music in the distance.
You immediately understood why he liked that place.
Because it felt alive.
And because it was exactly the kind of place that would make you stop at every shop just to stare at random cute things.
“You went out alone?” you asked again.
“Hoseok and Jungkook are eating. I got bored at the hotel.”
His answer sounded so casual that you had to stop yourself from sighing loudly.
Yoongi was always like this.
Sometimes he still forgot who he was now.
Not because he was arrogant or intentionally dismissing his own popularity. Actually the opposite. Sometimes he genuinely still thought he could casually walk around without attracting too much attention, especially outside Korea.
Even now?
Even people who didn’t follow BTS would probably still recognize his face.
And you knew perfectly well the other members often said the same thing—Yoongi was sometimes way too relaxed about himself.
“Are you even being careful?” you asked while lowering your laptop volume.
“I’m wearing a cap.”
You stared at the screen flatly.
“That’s not a disguise.”
“I’m also wearing a hoodie.”
“Wow. Incredible.”
Yoongi chuckled softly.
His laugh mixed faintly with footsteps and market noise, but it was still enough to make the corner of your lips lift too.
Even so, you kept paying attention to the surroundings behind the camera. People passed by without caring, but there was still a small nervous feeling sitting in your chest.
Not because you didn’t trust him to take care of himself.
But because you knew what the world was like now. One person realizes that’s Min Yoongi from BTS, and five minutes later there could already be a crowd.
And the funny thing was, Yoongi himself still looked genuinely confused whenever that happened.
“You seriously…” you muttered while leaning back in your chair, “still think you guys are nobodies sometimes huh?”
Yoongi stayed quiet for a second before finally smiling faintly.
“Sometimes I forget.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m just taking a short walk.”
“You say ‘just taking a short walk’ like you’re some guy running the neighborhood photocopy shop.”
He laughed more clearly this time.
And honestly, you liked hearing him laugh like that.
Lately the tour schedule has been too exhausting. His face often looked tired. So every time Yoongi sounded genuinely relaxed and comfortable, you felt relieved too.
The camera moved again, showing rows of tiny colorful stores. Neon-painted Mexico skulls, brightly embroidered fabrics, flower mugs, and strange ornaments that somehow still looked artistic.
“You’d love places like this,” he suddenly said.
And he was right.
Your eyes were instantly drawn to all the colors.
You have always loved bright things. Random tiny objects that were cute and overly crowded-looking. Even your apartment had colorful decorations. Yoongi often mocked for having “too many colors.”
“I bought something for you,” he added casually, as if that sentence alone didn’t instantly warm your heart.
You automatically turned quickly toward the screen.
“Hah?”
Yoongi looked satisfied seeing your reaction.
He was always like that. Sometimes purposely saying things suddenly just to watch your shocked expression.
“I kept seeing it and thinking about you.”
And god.
No matter how simple the sentence was, it still always made your chest soften.
Because Yoongi wasn’t the type to openly act romantic. Which was exactly why small things like “I saw this and thought of you” felt far more special.
You immediately started guessing excitedly.
Maybe a cute plate.
Maybe embroidered fabric.
Maybe a long brightly-colored dress Yoongi himself would never touch but would still choose because “this is so you.”
The more you imagined it, the more curious you became.
Especially because the way Yoongi kept holding back his smile clearly showed he was enjoying this.
“Come on, show me,” you whined.
“No.”
“Yoongi.”
“You’ll laugh.”
“It’s fine.”
He finally stopped walking in front of one of the stores. The camera lowered slightly toward shelves full of colorful ornaments.
Then he picked something up.
At first you didn’t realize what it was.
Until he lifted it closer to the camera.
“…is that a skull?”
Yoongi instantly grinned faintly.
“Yeah.”
You stared at the screen for several seconds with a blank expression.
Out of everything in Mexico…
Your boyfriend chose a skull.
But of course it wasn’t just any skull.
It was a brightly painted Día de los Muertos ceramic skull. Pink flowers, blue lines, neon yellow, tiny bright green details. It looked more cute than scary.
Still—
“Why a skull…”
“But the colors are cute.”
“You’re seriously weird.”
Yoongi actually looked proud of his choice.
He slowly rotated the skull toward the camera like he was showing off expensive artwork.
And the longer you looked at it, the more it really did feel… very you.
Crowded colors.
Weird.
Slightly chaotic.
“You like it, right?”
You tried holding back your smile.
Because honestly, this really was Min Yoongi-style romance.
Not flowers.
Not stuffed dolls.
Not expensive jewelry.
But a random colorful skull he saw at a market and immediately thought of you.
And somehow that made your heart ache from affection.
“You know normal people buy flowers for their girlfriends.”
“I’m different.”
“Clearly.”
“You don’t like it?”
You finally laughed softly while leaning your head back against the chair.
“I do…”
“Exactly.”
“But you’re still weird.”
Yoongi laughed in satisfaction again.
Behind him, the shop lights had started turning on because evening was approaching there. The bright colors around him looked warmer now. And in the middle of that crowded market, Yoongi stood there holding his ugly-cute little skull proudly.
Strangely enough…
That sight only made you miss him more.
Because you could clearly imagine him casually walking from store to store, then stopping the second he saw that thing and thinking:
“This would definitely be something Y/N likes.”
And now you really wished you were there with him.
Summary: Lee Jaerin has everything. Fame. Fortune. Freedom. But five years ago she lost the one person who meant everything to her. Every part of her brain is screaming at her to let Min Yoongi stay in her past, but the heart has a mind of it's own and hers is determined to get him back into her life.
Word Count: 15.9k
Part 2 - Seesaw
Summary: Lee Jaerin and Min Yoongi have everything. They have each other after all. But the pressures of fame are increasing every day and threatening their little slice of paradise. Can they survive it and do they even want to?
Word Count: 16.9k
Part 3 - Life Goes On
Summary: Jaerin and Yoongi haven't seen each other in more than seven years. But life goes on. As they navigate new beginnings in their 30s, the universe brings them crashing back into each other. It isn't done with them yet.
Word Count: 20k
Tags: Idol!Yoongi, rapper!OC, childhood best friends, flashbacks and flashforwards, idolAU, very angsty lol, incorrect BTS lore but I tried my best, tannies being bffs, TRAUMA lol
Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, domestic violence, alcoholism, death of a parent, poverty, suicide and self harm, psychiatric treatment, gang violence, depression, Yoongi shoulder thing, violence against women, death threats, misogyny (each story and chapter will have its own warnings)
Note: I guess this is kinda my baby. I wrote this when I was 20, abandoned it for many, many years (ao3 curse is real friends) and now I'm back at it at 29. Which is kinda funny in how it mirrors the plot of this story. Had to wait until I hit each life stage I guess to write it lol.
Summary: Your husband and his identical twin brother are complete opposites, but when the pair are in a horrific car accident together and the nurse asks Jungkook which twin he is, he decides to spare you the heartache of losing your beloved husband by becoming him.
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, Jungkook’s Twin x Reader, (Slight) Jungkook x Jennie
Warnings: chapter specific warnings will be included on each individual post
Author's Note: woohoo! it's finally here!! this is the masterpost for a series that was only ever supposed to be a one-shot lmao. the only thing I'll say beforehand is this story is really, really heavy so please read all the warnings if there are certain topics you know could negatively impact you. like, I honestly think I might be a sadist after writing this 🫣. but it isn't all just angst and in my opinion, despite the sadness, is a truly beautiful story. it's also told entirely from Jungkook's POV which was new for me as a writer. I hope you all enjoy it :)
-> Taglist
Character Profiles
Summary: A sneak peek into the story’s four main characters.
Word: N/A
Part I
Summary: There are two boys but only one girl, leaving Jungkook hopelessly in love with someone he can never have, and doesn't want to have, because that would mean taking you away from the person he loves most. Then suddenly there’s only one boy and one girl, but it's the wrong one.
Word Count: 28.9k
Part II (M)
Summary: Jungkook's been living as his twin for three months without too many hiccups or blunders, but he can't keep you waiting to be intimate again for much longer. Not to mention all the other obstacles which keep constantly appearing in his path.
Word Count: 31.8k
Part III (M) ~ coming on Friday, May 22, 2026 at 7:00 pm EST
Summary: There's no turning back after diving headfirst into the deep end with you, not that Jungkook would ever want to, but past secrets and choices entirely out of his control might just topple the delicate house of cards he's spent eight months building to conceal his web of lies.
ch. 1 honey - series masterlist here
pairing: sheriff!seokjin x fem!stable girl!reader, feat. outlaw!yoongi
genre: cowboy
summary: sheriff kim is good to you, even if the only ones who know that he sneaks into your room every night are the two of you. he's given you a job and a place to rest your head. you'd be stupid to let anything mess that up.
warnings/tags: midnight trysts, mc talks about her past as a saloon girl, also gunshot wounds, unprotected sex but he pulls out, depictions of violence/murder, ummm i can't rlly think of anything else so if i missed something plss let me know!!
wc: 5k
notes: this entire series is dedicated to my 💕anon who came to me last year with the idea of writing yoongi as a cowboy. I have been working so hard on this (there’s going to be a main story, prologue, and epilogue) and it is by far one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. so thank you, 💕anon to the ends of the universe and back. This is for you.
as always, a huge big thanks to aqua for yapping with me about this since i started writing it last summer and reading through scenes. i love u.
divider: @/saradika
It’s a beautiful summer evening on the Sheriff Kim’s small farm. The sun has almost set on the horizon below the distant mountains, painting the treetops a mix of red and orange. Crickets are out singing their evening tunes as you walk alongside Swan, a gentle but spirited roan mare, towards the stable to turn in for the night. She matches your steady pace, your body slowing down and feeling the effects of spending a hot day mucking stalls, carrying feed bags, fetching hale bays, and corralling horses in and out of the fields. A typical day for you, but grueling nonetheless.
Your stomach grumbles as you think about the delicious meal the youngest Kim brother, Taehyung, is cooking up at this very moment and you’re eager to finish up with your chores so you can finally sit down and enjoy the food. A fuzzy feeling infiltrates when your mind wanders to who will be occupying the seat at the head of the table once he returns. He hasn’t been home in a few weeks, having to patrol the town and supervise the jail while the newlywed Deputy Jeon is getting settled with his wife.
You slide open Swan’s stall door and gesture for her to go in, but instead of clopping forward, she bows her head and nudges the pocket of your trousers where you store a handful of sugar cubes to treat the horses throughout the day.
You huff, shaking your head. “You’re funny. Gave me all that trouble getting you inside, and now you’re buttering me up for sugar.”
Swan’s favorite pastime is to make you chase her to get out of the pasture. But she’s sweet like the sugar cubes you smuggle her. She reminds you bittersweetly of your old mare, Butter. You haven’t seen her since you got separated and you’d kill to have her back. Who knows where she ended up.
“Here you go, ole girl,” you say fondly, relenting to Swan's precious nature and letting her nibble the cubes out of your hand.
Swan finally enters her stall and you make sure she begins to eat from her feed bag before closing the door. As you wipe your overworked hands on the back of your slacks, your attention is perked to the familiar sound of a horse’s gait clopping into the yard. You step out of the main doors to where the oldest Kim brother and protector of the town slows his horse to a trot as he approaches the stable.
“Good evening, miss,” Seokjin’s honeyed voice calls to you from his beautiful chestnut gelding.
“Evening, Sheriff,” you smile warmly, watching him dismount in a graceful swoop over the saddle. “You’re late for dinner.”
“What are you doing out here, then?”
“I’m late, too.” He chuckles and gathers Magic’s reins, walking him towards you. “Swan didn’t want to come in from the field.”
“Ah, when does she ever?”
Magic leans into your hand when you reach up to scratch his cheek, one of his favorite places.
“Go ahead and wash up. I’ll take care of him.”
Seokjin blinks at you, wearing a hint of a smile. Clearly stalling, he doesn’t let go of the reins, so you tug them away from him.
“Go on! Before Taehyung comes out here and drags you.”
He says nothing as you lead Magic into the barn, willing yourself to not look over your shoulder and check if Seokjin’s following you. Once you remove his bridle, Magic clops into his freshly mucked stall, instantly going for his feed bag in the corner that you already filled. He munches entirely unbothered as you take off his saddle, hang it up, and then brush out the dust of the day from his coat and mane.
You feel eyes on you, and they’re not from the other horses. Seokjin is there at the entrance of the stable, leaning against the open door, arms crossed as he watches you work. An unmistaken fondness is in his eyes that makes you hide behind Magic’s shoulder.
“Am I doing a good job, Sheriff?” you ask in a shy murmur.
“You always do, honey,” he replies as he approaches Magic’s stall, brown leather boots scuffing the floor, spurs clinking with every step.
“You’re gonna get in trouble with your brothers if you stay out here.”
He shakes his head, unlatching the door and stepping aside for you to come out and stand close.
“I had a long day.”
“Did you?”
“Mhmm,” he nods, tongue darting out to his plush bottom lip as he lifts off his hat and balances it on the post behind you. “And nothing else cures my stress more than kissing you does.”
You lean back against the wood, flustered. “In the barn? In front of the horses?”
He nods, cupping your cheeks. “They won’t tell.”
Looking down at his lips, your chin tilts up, and he smiles as he leans in to kiss you, soft and tender. He takes his time, tongue gently swiping your bottom lip to enter your mouth, and you find your own stress and tense muscles unwinding. You relax against the post as he remains gentle, calm, and you sigh internally.
“This is nice,” he whispers when he parts.
“Mhmm,” you nod, peering over to Swan’s stall when you hear her snort. You chuckle at her staring right at you over the door, shaking her head and snorting as if she disapproves.
“She’s judging us.”
Seokjin looks back at his horse. “Definitely.”
You share a smile and just as he leans in to kiss you again, a distant shout stops him.
“Hyung, come inside! Dinner’s getting cold!”
At the sound of his youngest brother’s call from the house, Seokjin smiles and retrieves his hat, kissing you once more before putting it back on.
“See you inside,” he says, tipping his hate at you like the gentleman he is, and strolls out.
Seokjin has been getting more bold lately. Months ago, after you first started sleeping together, he could barely look at you when you were in the same room as his brothers. Now he’s constantly stealing glances at you during dinner. And when you’re in the kitchen washing dishes, he takes the opportunity to move you aside so he can help by putting his hands on your hips. Not that you mind, but it does give you the feeling that he’s getting tired of hiding. While you agree that it’s exhausting, the idea of becoming known as the Sheriff’s beau, or even mistress, is more scary. He’s promised to a fancy heiress after all.
Wouldn’t a tryst with a stable girl ruin his reputation if it ever got out? Which is why in the back of your mind you have a plan to run. Like you always have.
So during dinner when Namjoon brings up the subject that the mill is still hiring, you ask if the owner would employ a girl, and pretend not to notice the way Seokjin pauses in the middle of taking a bite to steal a glance at you.
“I think so,” the middle brother nods. “Why?”
You shrug. “I just thought if he needs the help, I could spend a few hours there in the early morning before I send the horses out to graze.”
“Is our brother getting cheap on you?” Taehyung asks teasingly.
“No, not at all,” you splutter, suddenly mortified that you implied that. “It’s just always a good idea to make extra money when you can, right?” Seokjin’s eyes are down when you look over to gauge his reaction.
“Sheriff,” you say gently to gain his attention. “Would that be okay?”
“I suppose.”
“Everything will still get done here.” A small smile reaches his eyes.
“I know.”
The conversation lulls and you all eat in silence until Taehyung launches into the newest gossip in town.
All you can think about is how handsome Seokjin looks, sitting there at the head of the table, nodding attentively as his brother rambles, and the pang of guilt you feel for thinking so. When you’re all finished, Seokjin compliments his youngest brother on the exceptional meal, and Taehyung beams at the praise as you and Namjoon chime in.
“Are you staying tonight, hyung?” Namjoon asks as he stands.
Seokjin nods, flicking a quick glance your way. You rise to help clear the table and hide a blushing smile.
You’ll have a visitor in your bed come late.
You’ve been lying here in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for those three soft knocks on your door long enough for the moon to surpass your window. You know he’s waiting for his brothers to fall asleep, but Namjoon’s snores have been echoing down the hall for a good few minutes now.
It was a hot one today, and who knows how long he spent outside making his rounds, so he’s probably exhausted and already asleep. Oh, well. He’ll be home for the next few days while Deputy Jeon takes post in town, there’s still other chances for him to visit.
For some reason, despite the ache in your muscles, you’re not tired.
You glance over to the nightstand, to the stack of books Namjoon has lent you over the past few months. It’s been a while since you’ve leafed through one, and you know that’ll make it harder to get into it. Namjoon has stopped asking you what you think, which you feel a little guilty for, especially since you’re keeping him from the truth. Sure, you’re usually too exhausted by the end of the day to even have the strength to pick up a book, but on the occasion that you have any energy to spare, sitting next to the wavering lamp light trying to scour through the words that give you a lot of trouble, only to find a few that don’t, you end up going to sleep frustrated. But if you lie awake with just your thoughts, you may not be able to sleep at all. So you snatch up the book you’ve managed to get through a couple pages of, turn the lamp a little brighter, and try to focus.
Instead, your mind draws you into the days you used to spend in the sun, when you laid beneath trees, a cool breeze blowing across your back, while a low timbre read out loud the stories you struggled to bring to life on your own.
Your eyes snap open and you snap the book shut. No. You won’t be taken there. Not tonight. You toss it to the side, uncaring when it slides off the table and thuds to the floor, and extinguish the flame, something simmering on your skin beneath your nightgown as you settle into bed. You’re really not gonna be able to sleep now.
And then three soft knocks on your door become your saving grace.
You swing out from under the covers, and hastily tiptoe to the door, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you grab the knob and turn it. Slowly pulling it back, Seokjin is standing less than an inch away from the frame, sparing a glance down the hallway that echoes with the loud snores of his brothers.
“Hey, honey,” he whispers as he faces you, smiling through the crack.
“Hi,” you whisper back, and slowly open the door far enough for him to slip inside, stopping just before it starts to squeak. His hands easily find your waist, and he wraps you up with his strong biceps encasing your ribcage as you tip up on your toes to clasp your arms around his neck, finding the edge of the door to gently push it closed just as his lips find yours.
After the door clicks shut, the smooth wooden floorboards creak beneath your feet as he walks you across the room with his hands on your cheeks, mouths molded together. Beams of moonlight cascading over your quilt, he lifts your nightgown over your head and you shiver when you’re suddenly standing before him completely naked.
He ushers you under the blankets, grabbing one of your pillows to stuff between the wall and headboard, just in case. You watch in awe as he strips off his night clothes; his curved cock at half-mast comes into view that he grabs before crawling under the sheets, hovering above you. As you slide your hands up his broad shoulders, he stares at your heaving chest and perky nipples, licking his pink, plush lips with hunger in his eyes.
“Look how the moon shines on you. So beautiful.” Blushing at the compliment, you pull him down for a languid kiss, moaning as his leaking cock ruts up your lower stomach.
“I had my legs crossed all through dinner,” you whisper sinfully under his jaw, enticing him. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
His chin drops and in the moonlit darkness, you catch a tinge of red creep up his cheeks.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
“Is this a competition?” you tease. He smiles, kissing across your cheek.
“I just love knowing I get to see you every time I come home.”
Love. You see it in his eyes, and it scares you. So you pull him down for a kiss so you can ignore it. Seokjin always kisses you like it’s his first time - like he’s unsure of himself, like he can’t decide if he wants to rush or take his time. But he kisses you like he cares. Deep down inside, you know you don’t deserve it. But if you’re going to play this game, you have to pretend you do.
As his tongue licks along the roof of your mouth, his fingers trail to your thighs, dipping between them to cup your heat, thumbnail flicking your nub. He’s never quite been able to find the right speed and pressure to draw you deep into pleasure, but you’re tentative to guide him, for fear of damaging his confidence, which has been your experience before. And Sheriff Kim is too sweet for that. You just let his long fingers prod your hole and work you open, get you a little wet, distract you from the toil and heat of the day.
His hand slips away and you feel his knuckles brush your folds, and he moans over your tongue as the slick sounds of his fist pumping his dick invade the silence. He parts your kiss with a lewd pop, head bowing as he lines himself up and slowly pushes in. He enters and you sigh, nails scraping his back as he fills you up, trying to ignore the slightly uncomfortable burn. Once he’s deep inside, his hips rock into you at a measured pace. Temples rubbing together, the bed creaks in melody with his movements, and since you’re both wary of his brothers waking up at any moment for water or a trip to the outhouse, you make the effort to stay quiet otherwise. You resort to subtle mewls while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear between kissing you and biting his lip to force himself to delay his release.
For you, the pleasure is minimal but it’s there in the intimacy, in his strokes, in your appreciation of his handsome face and body, your focus on his bulging biceps - the attractive muscles straining as he holds himself above you, on his breathlessness, his eyes squeezing shut, his mouth pulled in a tight line. You smile fondly. He's trying so hard not to come for your sake.
“Honey, I’m sorry,” he pants, the rhythm of his hips snapping against yours faltering, cock hardening against your walls. “I’m not gonna last.”
“It’s alright,” you softly assure, reaching up to card your fingers through his bangs. He peeks an eye open and shakes his head.
“But I want you to-” You press your fingertips against his lips, hushing him.
“I’m close, too,” you lie gently, amping up your moans when he takes that as a challenge and picks up the pace, chasing his high. It’s not your first time faking it. In general and with him.
Seokjin pulls out with a deep moan and you drop your legs, watching as he looks down and comes on the inside of your thigh. Then he collapses next to you, and it doesn’t take long for him to start snoring.
You wait a few minutes before sneaking out of bed. On the dresser sits a jug full of water you collected from the creek earlier that you slowly pour into the acrylic bowl, just as carefully dipping a rag in and ringing it out to clean yourself up.
He'll stay until you get up before dawn to start another day of maintaining his horses. He may take up more than half of your mattress really only meant for one, but with his strong arms holding you, encasing you in his warmth when it gets cold in the middle of the night, you don’t mind so much.
You change back into your nightgown and carefully sit on the edge of the bed, hoping not to wake him, but just as you slip one foot beneath the sheets, his head jerks up on a sharp inhale.
“Ah, honey, I’m sorry,” he mutters, flopping onto his back. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He sounds half-asleep as he speaks, trying too hard to fight it.
“It’s okay, Sheriff. You’re a busy man, you need your rest.”
“That’s no excuse to fall asleep on you.”
“I didn’t take it personally,” you tease.
“Come here,” he says, holding up the covers for you. After you crawl under, he pulls you up on his chest, fixing the blanket to cozily tuck both of you in.
The room is quiet. The house is quiet, save for his brothers’ distant snores. You’re glad Seokjin doesn’t snore like that, although you can sleep through almost anything. Head on one side of his chest and hand on the other, you’re lulled into a deeply relaxed state by his fingertips brushing up and down your spine. You close your eyes, and you nearly fall asleep until his sugary tone rumbles above your head.
“About what you said at dinner… Are you thinking of leaving?”
You sigh out a hum, stretching your legs to further curl into him and wake yourself up a little.
“Well, I thought I’d get a head start on finding a place of my own before your heiress gets into town. I suppose she’ll want to be the one warming your bed.”
“You’ve heard about that?” You chuckle.
“You know Taehyung gossips a lot at the hotel.”
Seokjin scowls, clicking his tongue. “That kid.”
“I also tend to eavesdrop.”
“Well, she’s not coming for a while. And-” He breaks off. You tilt your chin up to look at him.
“‘And’?”
“And I don’t love her.” Your heart stops. You swallow, throat tight.
“Who said anything about love, Sheriff?”
His jaw tightens, expression falling slightly.
You pretend not to notice and slide your cheek back down, eyes closing because you don’t want to keep talking if that word is gonna keep coming up. Something deep inside of you that you don’t want to face is starting to unfurl. Sleep. You need to sleep. You both do.
But then his warm, chafed hand skims up your arm on the right side and settles on the old wound just above your elbow.
“Can I ask? I’ve always been curious.”
“Hm?” You hum, even though you know what’s coming.
“What’s this from?”
Your knuckle rubs your eye. “When I was hunting with my father. He got drunk and mistook me for a deer.”
“Oh, really? How old were you?”
“15, I think.”
There’s a lapse in his response.
“Is that why you ran away?”
“One of the reasons.”
“And the one on your hip?” He rubs your back, on the same side of your more recent wound.
You keep your breathing calm as you tell your carefully tailored lie. “I got caught in a crossfire.”
He shifts and you glance up to his chin angled to stare at you with a raised, bewildered eyebrow. “What exactly were you doing to get caught up in a crossfire?”
You offer him this one small truth. “I used to be a saloon girl.”
When he doesn’t say anything, you continue without looking at him, fingertip tracing along his collarbone, praying he can’t feel your racing heart.
“I’ve always wanted to dance, and after I ran off, I wound up working in a dance hall, but I heard that there was more money in the saloon.”
He nods for you to go on.
“So, one day, I was crossing the street to get to work when a bunch of cowboys broke out into a gunfight. I got hit before I could start running away.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” You shrug, fingertip hastily circling below his collarbone.
“Do you think less of me now? Because I worked in a saloon?” His cheek rubs the crown of your head as he shakes his head 'no.'
“Honey, I may be the Sheriff, but I’m no judge. But in any case, what matters is that you don’t have to do that now.”
You linger a kiss on his pec in a quiet ‘thank you,’ hoping that he’s done with his inquiries for the night. You don’t think your heart can handle it. It’s been almost a year that he’s been sneaking into your room on the nights that he’s home, but this is the most he’s ever found out about you. At least things that are the closest to the truth.
He kisses your temple in return, whispers good night into your hair, and then finally settles, chest expanding in a deep sigh.
Sleep comes surprisingly easy. And yet, it feels like it doesn’t last as long as it should before you’re ripped away from a dreamless bliss by the sound of a whinny - no doubt belonging to Swan who is always the first to demand breakfast. You bask in the warmth and coziness for a minute longer before forcing yourself to turn over, only to be trapped by a thick bicep hooked on your hip.
“Don’t go,” Seokjin mumbles, face buried in the pillow. You smile, placing a hand on his elbow.
“Got to, Sheriff, or your horses will wake up this entire town.”
He huffs, frustrated, but relents and turns onto his back, letting you go to get dressed in a fresh shirt and slacks.
“Oh, shoot!” he exclaims as you sit on the bed to put on socks. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he runs a hand down his tired face. “Can you tack up Magic? I forgot Marshal Park’s coming in this morning.”
“Of course. Will you be home for dinner tonight?”
He nods, eyes blinking slowly. You lean over to kiss his sleepy pout.
“See you after the sunrise.”
His head plops back on the pillow as you stand, and he falls back asleep before you finish getting dressed.
A while later, when the sun is halfway above the horizon and the horses are fed and tacked up, he’s the first to appear. You walk Magic out to him, and Seokjin glances between you and the house, turning to his horse when Taehyung skips out into the yard, ready for Rain, the pretty peachy-gold Palomino dun mare he shares with Namjoon to ride into work. You catch Seokjin’s frown as he lifts Magic’s reins over his ears towards the saddle. He wants to kiss you goodbye.
“Have a good day, Sheriff,” you say, then quickly whisper, “Don’t miss me too much.”
“You, too. And I will.” He winks and mounts Magic as you allow a smile.
He’s late. Later than usual. It’s almost dark by the time you finish corralling the horses into the stable and cleaning up in the creek, but Seokjin still isn’t home. Yet the boys don’t seem worried when you finally make it inside, Taehyung serving up food, Namjoon setting the table. He looks up and smiles as you take off your boots at the door.
“Evening!” he waves, beckoning you to the table. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for your brother?”
Namjoon shakes his head. “Hyung’s always said we can start without him.”
You help Taehyung place the dishes of steaming hot food and he gestures for you all to sit and start eating. You engage in conversation about your day, but you notice them glancing sporadically at the door and eating a little slower, clearly growing nervous at Seokjin’s prolonged absence.
“I’m sure he just got caught up,” you say in an attempt to ease them.
But Namjoon becomes noticeably more anxious the longer Seokjin remains absent and Taehyung does his best to distract him with questions about his day at the bank.
Taehyung leaps out of his chair at the sound of the front door opening, racing into the kitchen to load up a plate for Seokjin.
“Oh, thank god,” Namjoon mutters under his breath, shoving in a big mouthful of food before standing up to greet his brother. “What kept you?”
You pause at the deep-set frown and unrecognizable expression on Seokjin’s face as he strides up to the table.
“Marshal Park brought this from the next town over.”
He slaps down a poster with tattered edges and a ripped hole in the top center from where it was nailed to a post. Every muscle in your body locks up.
You don’t pay attention to the large, blocked letters that would take you too long to decipher. Instead, you’re zeroed in on the center - a rough sketching of the face which plagues your memories covered by that signature bandana, only his dark, narrowed eyes and wisps of long, black hair visible beneath his black hat. And below it, a reward sum that could fund first class train tickets for the rest of your life. And a generation or two to follow.
“August the ‘Masked Bandit’?” Taehyung asks mid-chew. Your fist clenches in your lap. “Is that the guy who robs rich people on trains?”
“Among other things,” Seokjin huffs as he sits in his chair at the head of the table, taking his hat off and raking a hand through his hair.
“He used to have a female partner,” he starts to explain. You swallow thickly. “She died in a shootout when they got caught about a year ago, and he went after the officers involved and killed them.”
The Kim brothers share a look of scorn as you pray that none of them can hear your shallow breathing or the intense pounding in your chest.
“Miss May,” You speak up, though your tongue feels as thick as molasses. All eyes fall on you, Seokjin’s head tilting as if curious about what you know. “That was her name, wasn’t it? I’ve read about them in the news.”
Seokjin nods. “She was worse than him, I’ve heard. Well, up until he committed murder.”
“How so?” Namjoon asks.
“She had more… heinous methods of getting what she wanted.” He says that with so much disdain, it makes you nervous.
“That’s not important, Taehyung.” The youngest brother nods and pulls back, arms crossing on the edge of the table. Seokjin continues.
“He’s been on the run for months, but was recently spotted in the town just up north stealing wood from a lumber yard. He somehow got away even though there were five officers after him.” Huffing, he shakes his head.
“Needless to say, he’s considered armed and extremely dangerous. Deputy Jeon and I have reasonable concern that he could make an appearance in our town, so I want you, all of you-“ He sweeps his pointed gaze across his brothers before landing on you and holding your attention.
“-to watch your backs and come to me immediately if anyone or anything is out of the ordinary. Understand?”
The three of you nod in tandem, and when he’s satisfied that you all have taken his word seriously, he leans back in his chair. But there’s tension radiating through his stiff posture as he leers unblinkingly at the poster for a moment before pushing it away from him. You freeze when it slides next to your plate. He abruptly stands with a loud scrape of his chair on the floor, making Namjoon and Taehyung look at each other wearily.
“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Namjoon asks as Seokjin turns his back on the table.
“Later. I’m not in the mood.”
“Where’re you going?” Taehyung calls.
“I’m gonna sit on the porch for a bit.”
You all watch as he traipses back to the front door where his fiddle stands by the window, and takes it outside to play.
Stomach swirling uneasily, you stare at your dinner plate as you start to feel as if your mind is exiting your body. You barely register that Namjoon places an extra piece of bread on your plate.
“He’s probably worried about the violence that might follow August if he comes here,” Namjoon says, taking your silence as concern for his brother’s sullenness.
“Yeah, if bounty hunters catch up to him, they’ll hand out his punishment in the street,” Taehyung adds. “And hyung doesn’t want the town to see that kind of stuff, y’know?”
The sound of Seokjin’s fiddle floats into the house, playing over the ringing in your ears. It’s fast and tense, somehow perfectly capturing how you feel inside as you stare at the sketching on the poster.
You’ll get that reward one way or another. But all you need is revenge.
.
.
.
thanks for reading!!! i'd love to hear your thoughts so pls drop a comment below or in my inbox!
Hi Guys! I wanted to start doing a monthly post of my favorite fics of the month since my last one did so well! It's going to be a lot shorter because this is only a months worth but I hope you still enjoy!!
Tumblr Oneshots:
Swim by @intplayboy (Namjoon x Reader) - Porn with Plot and holy shit its AMAZINGGG. The smut is so good and lowkey so hot 😩
Smoking Area by @toastynamgi (Namjoon x Reader) - This was on my fic TBR for a while and I finally got along to reading it and OH MY GOD. Ngl another Porn with a little plot but she announced recently there she's making a part two and I'm so excited because THE ENDING BRO
The boy is mine by @toastynamgi (Yoongi x Reader) - Another feature of toastynamgi on this list and not the last! I love this fic and im also a sucker for a good brothers best friend so when I saw this I knew I had to read it 🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️
There was a bug by @heewnss (Namjoon x Reader) - THE BUILDUP BROOOO AND THE SMUT WAS SO GOOD TOOO 🤤
AO3 Oneshots:
Tied Up by orphan_account 😩😭(Namjoon x Yoongi) - all i have to say is this is freaky as fuck and im so sad i cant read other works by the author of this...
Right Place, Right Person by lemongloss (Yoongi x Jimin) - This fic is so amazing and beautiful and I want everyone to read it and show it love
Tumblr Series:
The Hit List by @wintrbears (Jungkook x Reader) Complete! - This was on my previous list as well but now its done! Such a cute smau and overall idea was so so cute
Run, Little Bunny by @gukcnt (Yoongi x Reader) Ongoing! - So omg the smut DID GO CRAZYYYYY practically the entire second chapter, highly recommend but PLEASE read the warnings first, the smut is crazy freaky but it was soooo good.
The sweetest vice by @toastynamgi (Yoongi x Reader) Ongoing! - I genuinely love this series so so so much and I'm so excited to keep reading it when the third chapter comes out!! The plot and the build up is just so so good 😩😩😩
Yes, chef by @yoonmetogether (Yoongi x Reader) Ongoing! - AHHH chapter 3 was insane and I'm so so excited to KEEP READINGGGGG!! I will genuinely wait months for the next chapter i don't even care i love this fic too much
Current fic I'm reading:
Strike at Seven by Cxrflow (Ao3) (Yoongi x Namjoon, Seokjin x Jimin and Taehyung x Jungkook) - This is a over 400k word fic and its genuinely written so well I've been reading it CONSTANTLY. If your looking for a long fic i highly recommend this, I'm only on chapter 3/24 but I've already spent hours upon hours reading it!
Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed and please let me know if you read any of these! Show these authors some love they all deserve it ❤️❤️
w / au's: optional male lead, mdni(18+only), domestic theme
summary: You’re feeling a little frisky one morning, so you convince him to play hooky. A morning off of work means you have full and total attention, so you spend the moment in the best way the two of you know how. Just by loving one another.
words: 3,362
my kindle author page~
He still blushes when your lips meet his neck in a teasing kiss even though you have been with him for so long. He blushes as if it’s the first time you're kissing him, showing him affection or teasing him, with his face darkening and eyes lowering as he chuckles. You don’t pull away from him because you find it so adorable. The love you share makes your heart swell with your arms wrapped around him as the two of you stand at the bathroom sink, toothbrush between his lips as he tries to get ready for work, and your mind a million miles away from responsibilities.
“Can you call in?” you ask, reaching to pepper the back of his neck with more sweet, soft kisses. Just the way he likes. He smells like fresh body wash and good mornings, having showered before you woke up. Lucky enough to catch him in the middle of brushing his teeth, you rushed to convince him to stay home with you. “Let’s play hooky.”
“You mean me play hooky?” he asks after he rinses his mouth and sets his blue toothbrush in its holder, stepping aside to allow you room to follow him in washing off last night’s rest. “Are you trying to get me fired when it’s your day off?”
“Not if we want to afford a bigger bathroom one day,” you tease him as you squeeze enough minty fresh toothpaste onto your brush. He chuckles and shakes his head while you freshen up, washing your face with your citrus-scented soap after you’ve finished with your teeth.
By the time you’re fully awakened, you aren’t needing him any less. You find him pulling up his black slacks to match his socks and the tie he’s already laid out for himself against the bed next to a white button-up shirt. You grin and make your way to him, a pout in your lips with your puppy dog eyes he can never tell no.
“Let’s have a little fun,” you continue with your convincing, interrupting him by gently taking the belt from his hands before he can position it in the loops of his pants.
“What kind of fun?” He arches a brow as he glances between your face and the belt, and the smirk that forms on his lips earns a giggle from you.
“Nothing like that, you pervert.” He chuckles as you reach for him once you’ve tossed his belt to the bed. “But maybe I could make it worth calling in sick.” Your lips meet his own and he groans into the kiss, eyes fluttering. For a split-second, he worries over no job, or responsibilities. Even his dreams of the two of you owning your own home, not a small, cramped apartment, seem distant. His hands reach for your hips, holding you close, and you run fingers through the hair on the back of his head, earning another groan building in his chest before he pulls away.
“Now who’s the pervert?” he asks, earning a smack of your lips before a laugh is shared between the two of you.
“Fine,” you tell him with a shrug, turning on your heel to walk away from him. “If you don’t want to be a little naughty with me…”
“Well, hey, wait!” He catches up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind to hold you in place, a squeak of your own filling the tiny bedroom the two of you share. “I never said that… what’s gotten into you?”
You shrug against him, giggling. “Hm, I don’t know…” You hum, melting into his chest from the way his lips press to the side of your neck, earning a cocked head a second later to give him access. “I guess I just woke up needing you today. Plus, isn’t it kind of fun to ditch work? It’s like skipping school when we were teenagers to go make-out in your car.”
“How old are you again?” he teases, earning more giggles the moment he holds you tighter and brushes his lips over your skin.
“Well, if you’re just going to be mean about it,” you tell him, playfully pushing him away with a pout.
“Oh no,” he suddenly says, voice lowering to earn your attention as you turn to him, “I think I’m suddenly coming down with something.” He raises his hand to fake a cough, and you shake your head when he can’t help but to laugh.
“So, is that a yes?” you ask, and before he can answer you, he’s reaching for his phone where he left it on his side of the bed to no doubt call his supervisor. One missed day can’t hurt. It’s not like they don’t work him to death at his job anyway. You can recall many nights he spent working over time, leaving you to grow tired and fall asleep without the comfort of his arms around you or his body pressed to yours. Maybe that’s what has you so needy this morning. You can’t ignore how much you miss him when you’re both busy with your own jobs.
He hangs up the phone after a short call, voice low as he pretended to be in agony, and you had to bite your lip to keep your laughter from being heard in the background. He’ll have to work on his sick voice, you think, but for today, it’s good enough. His job will have to do without him.
“There, are you happy, you bad influence?” He grins and steps toward you, but you’re backing away out of the room.
“Very!” you beam. A whole day with just the two of you. No interruptions. No work, no papers to be filled, and no bosses to deal with. Just him, you, and your stomach that begins to growl. “I’m also hungry!”
With that, you turn to leave him as he smacks his lips and calls for you. “Wait! You said-”
His voice fades as you rush to the kitchen, but soon his heavy footsteps are close behind.
You shriek when he catches up to you, hand inches from pulling the refrigerator door open, until his arms pull you against his body by your waist.
“Did you make me call into work just to tease me?” he questions, voice lowering as he speaks into your ear, breath against your skin to have a chill running down your spine.
“Maybe,” you tell him, but you wish you sounded more confident now that his hands are on you and he has no distractions. Just like you wanted. As his hands begin to wander, from your hips to your stomach to finally rest against your breast, heat washes over you in pure desire. A sharp breath does nothing to still your rapid heartbeat. “What are you… what are you going to do about it?” you taunt him, though your voice wavers as he begins to massage your breasts, feeling your nipples tighten beneath your flimsy camisole nightgown. No matter how long the two of you are together, his touch never fails to leave you needing more.
“Is that a challenge, sweetheart?” he asks, voice deep and right next to your ear to have goosebumps flooding your skin. An ache settles between your legs, wanting his hands there instead of teasing your breasts in the moment. Your head rolls back, eyes fluttering. Pressing your thighs together does nothing to dull the throbbing between them.
“Maybe,” you repeat, just to tease him further and earn a dark chuckle against your skin. You bite your lip, knowing the effects of being such a playful lover to one another, but it’s the reason you enjoy it so much. You love to tease and play, taunt and pretend to challenge one another until it leaves you both frustrated. In the end, the pleasure is worth it and spending time with him, loving one another, being together, is the only thing you care about. “We have all day together… so make it worth your while.”
He groans at your words, realizing the fact that there’s no rushing in the morning due to needing to be on time for work. There’s no excuses at night due to being tired, and there’s maybe later’s because you already have plans and can’t cancel. There’s only you in front of him, asking him for his attention, care, and love, and telling him he has all the time to make the two of you feel good.
“Come here,” is all he says, guiding you over to the small kitchen table. Strong arms place you on top of the bills and junk mail scattered around from the day before. He pushes himself between your thighs and the legs on the table wobble a bit as he pushes his weight into you, lips against your own, chest against your chest. It makes you wonder if he can feel your heart racing, too. He kisses you with a need that tells you he’s missed moments like this. Moments before the two of you became focused on work and money and the future instead of the present. He grabs your hips just like when you were dumb teenagers that didn’t know any better, only wanting each other though neither of you knew what you were doing.
You whimper his name when he pulls away and he smirks and blushes a bit, just like he always does. That will never change, because he loves the way you call out for him.
“You’re still a bad influence,” he tells you playfully. You can only smile at him before he’s reaching to tug your nightgown over your head. Luckily for him, it leaves you bare underneath and his eyes widen with desire in seeing every inch of smooth skin. Just like it’s the first time he’s seeing you.
His gaze now has heat rushing to your face. He never fails to make you feel wanted, and you never forget to tell him how it’s the best feeling in the world.
“I should call in more often,” he says, earning a roll of your eyes before his lips are on yours once again. You pull him closer with fingers tucked into his slacks, until you tug on the button and zipper to have them falling below his hips. Messy, urgent kisses turn into his lips wandering down to your jaw, and then to your neck, earning whimpers of his name the moment your head falls back.
You call out for him, spreading your thighs farther, dying to feel him inside of you. “I need you.” He groans against your skin upon hearing the words he loves so much. And maybe he loves it even more than you to be wanted, but he says nothing as he pushes his slacks and black boxer-briefs lower to uncover his hardened cock.
Your impatience is soothed by a hand between your thighs, fingers brushing over your folds to earn another chill surging through your body. You lean back, hands against the table to hold your weight, thighs parting as far as they can as he teases between them. You whimper his name again just to see the way his eyes darken. He’s so obvious with his desire for you it almost makes you laugh, watching him lick his lips and hearing his heavy breaths as he finds your swollen clit to caress circles into your flesh. Maybe he should be the one to laugh when your eyes screw shut as the heat swells between your thighs, surges of pure pleasure racing through your body from feeling his touch after needing him so much.
“God,” you cry out, inhaling a deep breath before your hips begin to move against his hand, “I need you… inside of me.”
He takes one look at you with a haze over his eyes, licks his lips, and then lowers his fingers to your pussy. You reach for him as he slips a finger inside, shaky hands gripping his hair, pulling him close as he eases into your heat. The ache settles before turning into red hot bliss, igniting a fire inside of you as he pumps a few times into your walls tightening around him. Your lips press to his own, moaning against his skin to tell him without words how good it feels. It doesn’t take him long to insert another, warming you up, working your body to a point that you’ll be ready to take all of him. Your arousal drips onto his flesh as he buries his fingers into you with ease. Each time he curls the digits inside of you, you pull away from his lips with a gasp.
Your hips begin rocking against his hand, becoming greedy, wanting more of him. Your head rolls back and every thrust of his fingers inside of you feels better than that last, but you still want more. You still want him. So you gather the nerve to reach for him, one hand lowering from your fingers tangled in his hair to grip his cock. The groan he releases has your body shaking. So deep. So full of need it’s almost worrisome, but it has the fire full of desire and burning so hot neither of you can stand it.
You drag your palm across his length with care, watching the way his eyes flicker with darkness. It won’t take much before he can no longer hold out from being inside of you. You’re both on edge and wanting to be as close as you can to one another. You want him to fill you up while he needs you wrapped around him tight, with moans and kisses and I love you’s to seal the deal.
You moan his name first, giving in, needing him. “Please…”
The desperation in your plea makes it so urgent, he can wait no longer. He pulls his hand from between your thighs to grip his hard cock, pressing between your legs once again to align the tip to your entrance. Pulling him in with arms wrapping around his neck, your lips press to his skin. He’s already breathless and impatient, but he takes his time easing into you, enjoying the first few moments of your heat around him and listening to the way you cry out his name in pure bliss. His body stiffens, then he exhales the heaviest breath once he has filled you up. Your body shakes against him the moment he pulls you against his chest with hands on your waist, just needing you as close as he can get you.
“God,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to your own, “you feel amazing. So good, baby.” And he smiles and kisses your lips as if it’s the first time. His motions are slow and gentle. He’s careful, as if he’s still scared of doing something wrong after being with you for so long. So he takes his time to enjoy the feeling of the world stopping and you two being the only ones that matter.
Now you’re smiling when he pulls away from your lips. Your heart is so full and your chest swells as you tell him you love him, before moving your hips against him to ask for more. He pulls away just to thrust into you again, slowly, gently, filling you up all over again to leave your thighs trembling around him. You gasp as he pushes deeper, loving the little noises you make and the way your grip tightens against his body to tell him how incredible it feels.
You love the way he holds you and remains patient until you’re tightening yourself around him, needing more. He quickens his pace, overwhelmed in the moment with the room spinning, succumbing to the pleasure of being inside of you and the feeling of being the only thing you need. You whimper his name once again, breaths heavy, nails digging into his skin. His lips fall to your neck to pamper your skin with kisses… little nibbles and swipes of his tongue. The moment is electric, slowing down time to be with him. Your hips move with his motions. He holds you tighter with a desperate grip. He makes love to you just like you asked, with no distractions, no worries. No care in the world at all for just a moment.
He slows down when he feels himself growing close, and you almost want to whine until he reaches between the two of you to guide your body to rest against the table. You lay bare before him with him buried between your thighs, and his thumb presses against your flesh to perform circles that have the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach.
“Don’t stop,” you cry out, back arching from the table as he thrusts deeper inside of you.
“Come on, baby,” he encourages you with a deep, raspy voice, though his tone is soft, urging you to let go. “Come for me.” He continues circling your swollen, aching and throbbing bud with his thumb as he pushes in and out of you with long, steady strokes.
Your body trembles against the table, thighs pressed to his hips. Your head rolls back, eyes shutting so tight you see stars, but the first wave of pure ecstasy washes over you a second later. Your mind grows numb, focusing on the heat swelling to every limb, the pleasure flooding your body, and the way he picks up pace as he pumps himself into you through your release. You squeeze yourself so tight around him he can’t help but to curse beneath his breath, gripping your thighs with nails digging into your soft flesh.
He continues loving you as you come down from the high. Sensitive, overwhelmed, but still loving the way it feels to feel him so close. It won’t take much for him to find his own release after watching you come undone while wrapped around him, you’re well aware. With his help of two hands pulling you from the table, you wrap your arms and legs around his body once more.
“Come for me,” you whisper in his ear, holding him close, whimpering against his skin when he thrusts just deep enough. “Please, come inside me. I want to feel it spilling out of me, baby.”
He groans at the words you knew would affect him in all the right ways, head tossed back and jaw slacked. Sweat beads on his forehead and his nostrils flare. His brow furrows, but he looks stunning when he’s so out of breath while making love to you. He keeps his hold on your thighs, continuing his pace until the pleasure washes over him just the same. His hips slow and he leans his forehead against your own a second later, spilling inside of you, gasping for air and groaning when you move your hips against him to receive every drop of his bliss.
He pulls away with his hands resting on either side of you as he attempts to catch his breath. You grin and brush the hair from his eyes as well as a few damp strands from his forehead.
“C’mon, sweaty,” you begin to tease him the moment his breathing has settled and he’s adjusted his slacks to cover himself, “let’s get cleaned up, and then I’ll let you make me breakfast.”
“Let me?” He chuckles before kissing you, and you linger for a few seconds too long just to make the moment last. Just like you do every second spent with him.
“Mhm,” you say, sliding down to stand on your feet with his assistance. He loves to leave you a little wobbly every time.
“And what would my queen like this morning?” he asks with a playful tone as he reaches to pick your nightgown up from the floor, slipping it over your head without hesitation. “Eggs? Toast? Bacon?”
“Hm,” you hum in thought, and then grin, “all of the above. I worked up an appetite.”
“Okay, but…” He stops following you out of the kitchen to glance over his shoulder. You match his gaze, then giggle. “We should probably clean the table first.”
summary: on the side of a sunburnt los angeles road, you with a broken down car meet a man you can't stop thinking about. he's older, composed, impossibly charming, and far too experienced to be looking at you the way he does. you're used to immature love that never knew how to hold you properly. but with him, everything is different.
themes: age gap (reader is 24, namjoon is 33), los angeles in the 2000s, smut, fluff, famous producer x non!celebrity reader, reader doesn't know who he is, confident joon yum, mainly readers pov w/ brief joon's pov, he's whipped, brief texting, tension, established relationship, strangers to lovers, teasing, they go on dates, joon is a gentleman, relationship building, joon is so dom and a lil possessive, nicknames, porn with lots of plot, eventual love confession
warnings: sexual themes, explicit & descriptive smut MINORS DNI 18+ (hard dom! joon omffghdj, slight age kink & size kink, slightly semi-public sex(?? in his studio :3), unprotected sex, soo much praise/dirty talk, edging/teasing, fingering, oral f, cowgirl, missionary, slight choking if u squint, creampie)
word count: 18k.. whoops
inspired by arirang joon because he's just too fine
♬ ₊˚. street thing - aaliyah
it was a late, blazing july afternoon with the kind of california heat that sticks to everything.
your beater car had just given up on you in the worst possible place it could—pulled over on the stretch of a busy road with no shade, just heat shimmering off the black asphalt and distant palm trees that don't feel helpful at all.
you already tried the obvious things. ignition, gas, trying it all again like it might change something.
it never did.
you leaned back against the passenger door of your car letting out a frustrated breath, hair sticking to your neck as you watched cars pass by with the soft sound of your hazards blinking in the background.
of course it's today. of course it's here.
that was when you suddenly heard the low hum of an engine slow down beside you. a sleek, black bmw—expensive, but not loud about it. it pulled in front of your car, and for a second you think the car is just stopping briefly.
that was before the driver door opened.
he steps out like he’s not in a rush to be anywhere else.
tall—noticeably so, he moves towards you easily, like he’s used to taking up space without ever forcing it.
sunglasses sit low on his nose, shielding his eyes, but not enough to hide the way his attention lands exactly on you. his shirt is simple—lightweight, slightly open at the collar, sleeves pushed up just enough to show his forearms. nothing flashy.
but it fits him too well. everything about him does.
dark jeans, clean shoes, watch on his wrist that you can't recognize but can tell is expensive. you notice all of him in the mere seconds he takes to walk over to you, the feeling hitting you all at once.
dear god, he was fine. the kind that made you straighten up a little bit without realizing; running a quick hand through your hair and fixing your jewelry.
he walks toward the front of your car, unhurried, one hand sliding briefly into his pocket before resting against the hood of your car.
up close, it’s worse.
sharper features than you expected. clean, but not overly polished. there’s something slightly worn in about him—like experience and maturity that sits on him well.
“everything alright?” he asks, voice is low and steady.
you blink for a second longer than necessary before responding. why does he look like that... helping me with my car?
"uh-" you stammer before clearing your throat. "it's- it's dead."
"yeah..." he says, eyes examining your car closer. "i can see that."
you nod and suddenly there's a pause, small but noticeable.
he comes around the side of your car, closing the distance between you to look inside of the window. you fumble while taking a few steps back as he looks at your dashboard then back at you, suddenly flustered by his presence.
"you got jumper cables?" he asks.
you simply shook your head.
"didn't think so," he says simply.
he walks back to his car, and you stand there feeling so helpless in the hot sun as he turns his car around to face yours in a swift manner, opening the door casually before coming around to his trunk like he's done this plenty of times.
when he comes back with the cables, he quickly slides his sunglasses in a way you almost miss a glimpse of his whole face.
you assumed it was because of the sun. but little did you know, it wasn't.
because before he walked back to his car, he had looked at you a little too closely. it wasn't some polite, quick glance. it was one that lasted a second too long.
he noticed everything about you.
the way your top fits—not overly revealing, but just enough to catch his attention without trying. the fabric light, slightly clinging from the heat. your skirt—shorter than it probably needed to be, riding just a little higher from the way you shifted against your car door.
his gaze dropped, brief, controlled—then came back up. your legs, your hands, the thin bracelet at your wrist. rings that don’t match perfectly but somehow work. jewelry that feels personal to you.
he takes note of that. of course he does.
then, your face. slightly flush from the heat, skin warm toned and sun-kissed. there's something effortless about you, like you spent more time living in the sun than hiding from it.
your expression—somewhere between annoyed and trying not to be. and your eyes, focused on him, but not softened. not entirely impressed by him, but more appreciative.
and when he closed his trunk, he forgets to look away. so he pulls his sunglasses back over, quick and casual. like it's nothing.
and not because of the sunlight, but because he was looking at you a little too openly. and he knew it.
he arrives at your car and connects everything smoothly, no hesitation and big hands steady. it was unfairly attractive.
“so,” he says, glancing up while he works, “you live out here or just enjoying the scenic breakdown experience?”
a smile pulls at your mouth despite yourself. “neither. i was just trying to get home.”
“mm.” he clicks something into place. “dangerous thing to try in LA.”
that gets a small laugh out of you, softer now and less defensive.
when the car finally sputters back to life, you visibly relax. he steps back, wiping his hands lightly. “there you go."
you should've just said thank you and left. but something in you doesn't act immediately. because now that the problem was gone, the silence between you two felt different now.
“so how do i… repay you?” you ask, half-joking, half-serious.
he tilts his head slightly. "you don’t.” a beat passes. "just don't break down in the worst place possible next time."
you rolled your eyes a little, a smirk tugging at your lips. "no promises."
that earns a small smile from him. he steps back toward his car, then pauses like he’s deciding something.
“i’m—” he starts, then stops himself, like he’s choosing not to introduce himself the usual way. "i’ll see you around.”
"yeah... thank you."
and you watch him get back into his car, driving away and getting lost in the sea of los angeles traffic as you realized two things;
you didn't get his name, and you would likely never see him again.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
one week later
he's just getting off the phone when it happens.
“yeah, send it over tonight,” he says, already half-distracted. “i"ll listen then.”
a pause. “mm. yeah. i got it.” he ends the call before the other person finishes their last sentence.
he slips his phone into his pocket, stepping onto the sidewalk, the afternoon sun hitting just right—warm, a little blinding, the kind of los angeles light that makes everything look softer than it is.
but he's not really paying attention at first.
he's thinking about work. about a track that still isn’t sitting right. about whether he even wants to go to the next session he has lined up.
and then—he sees you.
just down the block, wired headphones plugged into your ears as you walk towards a small coffee shop.
it takes him half a second too long for him to register it. he slows before stopping in his place on the scorching sidewalk just to be sure.
same walk. same unintentional confidence—like you're not trying to be noticed, which somehow makes you stand out more. your outfit catches his attention again without effort. something light, slightly different from the first time he saw you, but still you.
skirt again—of course. not the same one, but same idea.
he notices that. he notices everything.
you push the door open to the shop before disappearing inside. and for a second—he considers just letting you go, letting the roadside interaction stay that way, a one time street kind of thing that didn't need to turn into anything else.
he exhaled quietly before shaking his head, "yeah, no." he changed his direction subtly like he was always going that way.
by the time he reaches the door, he's already composed again. no rush or urgency in him, just the same steady stride he always carried around.
inside the cafe, it’s quieter than the street. low music, soft conversations, and the smell of coffee swirled in the air.
he scans the space once and it doesn't take long for him to find you, standing near the counter, slightly turned away, looking up at the menu like you're stuck deciding between the same two things.
he watches you for a second. not long, but enough. and suddenly, there's that feeling again rising up in his chest.
he steps into line behind you—close enough to matter, not close enough to be obvious. he lets the moment build naturally. of course he does. he lets you stay unaware just a second longer.
then, as you shift your weight and turn slightly back—he steps forward at the exact right time. light contact, your shoulder to his chest. just enough to capture your attention.
"oh, sorry—" you say automatically before looking up. it took a moment for you to process that the same, gorgeous man who jumped your car last week was the one currently blocking your vision.
he tilts his head slightly, like he’s just as surprised. “well,” he says, calm, almost amused, “this is becoming a pattern.”
you blinked. "you... helped me with my car."
"i did," he agrees. "and now apparently i'm following you around LA."
you narrow your eyes slightly. "are you?"
he puts a hand over his chest, mock offended but calm. “i prefer ‘running into you repeatedly by tragic coincidence.’”
that earns a laugh from you, the first real one between you. the barista calls you next in line, and he trails behind you like you're a couple ordering together. his presence alone makes your heart thump against your chest.
the barista takes your order and before you can even unzip your purse to pay, you already see a large hand coming from behind you, inserting a card in the machine.
the barista hands the man behind you the receipt and you turn around abruptly, tilting your head up to fully face him as you both drift away from the register. "i can pay for myself," you said.
"i know," he says simply.
"i was supposed to pay," you corrected as you picked up your freshly made coffee order.
"why?" he asked genuinely, tilting his head to match the angle of yours. it sent a light pink blush up your cheeks.
you look at him like the answer is obvious. "because you jumped my car."
his eyebrows pulled together. "that was like five minutes of my time."
you all but blinked, suddenly at a loss of words under the intense gaze of this mysterious, confident man.
he begins to walk towards a table and you follow him, still protesting under your breath. "that doesn't mean you get to—"
“get to what?” he glances back at you, sunglasses now off, and it’s worse without them in a way—more direct, more readable. more of his perfectly chiseled face exposed to you. “buy you coffee?”
you open your mouth, then close it. because the way he said it made it sound ridiculous to argue.
you both end up choosing a table by the window. endless blue, moving slowly under the late afternoon sun. a few people pass by on bikes, others walking along the sidewalk with iced coffees in hand, like time moves differently here.
not sat too close to him, not too far—just enough space that it could still be casual if either of you decided to pretend it was.
“so, what do you do?” you ask finally, wrapping your hands around the cup.
he leans back slightly in his chair. “music.”
“that’s vague.”
“it's intentional.”
you give him a look. “oh, so you’re mysterious.”
“i’m tired,” he corrects lightly, a smirk of amusement tugging at his lips. “there’s a difference.”
that makes you smile. “what, like a band?” you press.
“no,” he says. “behind the scenes.”
“oh.” you tilt your head. “like a manager?”
he pauses for a moment. "something like that."
it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. you nod like you accept that answer, but the curiosity doesn't go away.
“and you?” he asks.
you almost laugh. “i don’t do music.”
“didn’t say you did.”
“i mean…” you gesture vaguely. “nothing like that. i work. i live on the edge of LA where nothing interesting happens.”
his gaze holds on you a second longer than necessary. "that’s not true,” he says.
you frown slightly. “you don’t even know me.”
“i know you broke down on the side of a road in peak heat and didn’t immediately panic,” he says. “that tells me something.”
"like what?"
"that you're stubborn," he replies calmly.
you lean forward a little, eyes analyzing his expression. "that's not a compliment."
“it can be,” he says. “depends who it’s about.”
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you and him slip into easy conversation—half started stories, simple questions, the kind of conversation that doesn't feel like you're trying too hard.
you're mid-sentence, explaining something about where you live—how everything feels slower out there—when he interrupts you, but gently. “how old are you?”
you pause, caught off guard. “that’s random.”
“it’s relevant,” he says, like that should be obvious.
“to what?”
he lifts his cup slightly, studying you over the rim for a second before answering. “to how seriously i should be taking you.”
your eyebrows lift immediately. “excuse me?”
there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “i’m kidding,” he says, calm, unbothered. “mostly.”
you shake your head, trying not to smile. “twenty four.”
he nods once, like he expected that. “yeah,” he murmurs.
“yeah what?” you press.
“nothing,” he says, setting his cup down. “it makes sense.”
“that’s so annoying,” you say. “you don’t get to say that and not explain.”
“i just did.”
“no, you didn’t.”
he leans back slightly, relaxed, completely comfortable letting you be a little frustrated. “you carry yourself younger at times,” he says. “but not in a bad way.”
you narrow your eyes. “that still feels like an insult.”
“it’s not,” he says, softer now. “it’s honest.”
you look at him for a second longer than you mean to. “okay,” you say quietly. “then how old are you?”
he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he tilts his head slightly, watching you like he’s deciding how much to give. “what do you think?” he asks.
you study him now, more deliberately. he doesn’t look older, not really. no obvious lines, no tiredness. and of course, he looks put together in a way most guys your age aren’t.
“twenty-seven,” you say finally. “maybe twenty-eight.”
he lets out a soft laugh—low, almost under his breath.
you frown immediately. “what?”
“nothing,” he says, shaking his head slightly with amusement.
“no, what?”
“you’re off,” he says.
“by how much?”
he pauses, then shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “enough.”
“that’s not an answer,” you says leaning forward closer now.
“it is,” he replies calmly. “just not one you like.”
you stare at him, half-annoyed, half-curious. “you’re not going to tell me?”
“not yet.”
your eyes narrow. “why?”
he meets your gaze fully this time. “because i want to see if it changes anything for you.”
you lean back slightly, thrown off in a way you don't show completely. “why would it?” you ask.
he shrugs after a small pause. he glances down at your cup. “you drink your coffee too slow, by the way.”
your mouth falls open a little as the moment quickly softens again. “oh my god.”
“just saying.”
“you’re unbelievable.”
“and you’re still here,” he points out lightly.
the conversation drifts again after that, easier now. you talk more without meaning to—little things, fragments of your life. he listens in a way that feels attentive, but not invasive. like he’s not collecting information, just understanding your pace.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you both drift toward the door without really deciding to. the conversation doesn’t end—it just slows, like both of you are aware it has to, eventually.
outside, the afternoon has softened. the heat isn’t as sharp anymore, but it’s still there, hanging in the air between you.
you shifts your weight slightly, glancing down the street, then back at him. “this was…” you start, then stop, like you don't want to overdefine it. he watches you, gazed fixed on you patiently.
“unexpected,” you continue on.
he nods once. “yeah.”
“i still owe you,” you say.
he glances down at you. “you don’t.”
“i do.”
“you don’t,” he repeats, softer but final. but after a small beat, “if it makes you feel better, you can get the next one.”
you narrows your eyes. “there’s going to be a next one?”
he paused again, but only for a fraction of a second too long before he shrugged slightly like it was nothing. "if you break down again, i might start thinking it's planned."
you rolled your eyes, but a smile pulled helplessly at your lips. as you stepped out into the light of the sun, you realized two things at once. this man still hadn't told you who he is or his name, and that you somehow already agreed to see him again.
"let me see your phone," he said lowly, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes once again. it wasn't really a question.
and so you reached into your pocket, pulling out your phone, and without asking—he takes your hand gently, turning your palm slightly towards his. the faintest brush of his fingers sent an unexpected warmth up your arm in a way you couldn't ignore.
he picked up your phone that now seemed so small in his hands, typing something quickly before handing your phone back. you looked down at your screen, squinty slightly from the sun.
his name. a number.
joon 213-555-0010
when you look back up at him, he's already watching you—unreadable in a way that sent a pink flush throughout your cheeks.
"joon," you said, like you needed to say his name out loud. like you knew it was just a nickname.
he simply nodded, something small like a smile tugging at his lips from the sound of you hearing his name. "yeah."
he paused, low eyes peering above his sunglasses as he looked at you closely. "you gonna tell me yours?" he asked lowly, the baritone of his voice hitting a little too close.
so you told him, and he repeated it a few times under his breath like he had to let it sink on his tongue. "y/n," he said finally, voice quieter than usual. "pretty name for a pretty girl."
your eyes couldn't help but widely slightly at his bold words, the pink on your face turning into a deep red.
a small pause filled the air before you swallowed, trying your best to lock in your confidence in front of this man. "you didn't ask for my number," you said.
"i know."
"that's a little backwards."
"not really."
you titled your head. "why?"
he took a step back, giving you just a little more space. "because now it's your choice."
you study him for a second, like you're trying to figure out if this is some kind of game. some kind of reality tv show where they prank you with some hot mysterious man. but it didn't feel like one.
"and if i don't text you?" you ask.
a small pause before he shrugged easily. "then i'll assume you didn't want to." but his tone didn't have any pressure or persuasion in it.
"confident," you mutter.
"selective," he corrected.
you almost rolled your eyes—but you don't quite let it happen. he glances past you for a second, like he's remembering that he actually has somewhere to be. then, they quickly averted back to you.
"if you do," he continues, quieter now. "don't over think it."
you let a small laugh. "too late."
that earns a small smile from him, dimples tugging at his cheeks in a way you noticed immediately. "i figured."
another pause before he steps back swiftly, like he's deciding that he couldn't stay any longer than necessary—even if he wanted to. "i'll see you around," he says, for the second time.
before you can respond, he's already turning and stepping away, suddenly gone in the same effortless and casual way he arrived.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
that night, you tell yourself you're not going to think about him.
and you failed immediately.
you failed when you went to dinner with your friends, when you did chores around your house; in the shower and when you laid in your own bed that night—the bed that was supposed to make your thoughts go away. it was the small things at first.
the way he didn’t rush anything. the way he answered questions without really answering them. the way he looked at you like he already understood something you hadn’t said out loud yet.
and as the night continued on, the bigger things settled in your brain, making heat shamefully pool between your legs.
he didn't ask for your number. he didn't try to lock you in. instead, he just left his number with you.
who is he?
your phone sat next to you with the screen dark and off, but it felt louder than anything else in the room. you fell into a cycle of picking it up and putting it back down.
finally, you picked it up again, finding his contact. you flipped it shut, sucking in a sharp breath at the thought of messaging him. you found your thumbs typing, deleting, then typing something again.
you exhale softly, leaning back against your pillow trying your hardest not to overthink it, his voice replaying in the back of your head.
he wasn't some typical guy—you could tell in the way he carried himself. he walked casually, but with assurance. he dressed with stride, but still managed to blend in. he talked with confidence, and every line was coated with experience.
so now, it wasn't just about texting him. it's about what it would mean if you did. because somehow, after one roadside encounter and a cup of coffee—you already wanted more than you should have.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
namjoon's drive back was quiet. not because he wanted it to be—but because nothing else fit how he felt at the moment.
not even any of his music.
he had driven these streets thousands of times. the same turns, the same streets, the same palm trees. usually his mind is somewhere else entirely—work, mixes, deadlines, people who expect things from him.
but not tonight. because tonight, it kept circling back to you.
it all kept replaying in his head—the way you looked at him like you were trying to figure him out. he noticed the way you didn't try too hard. you didn't perform like everyone else in LA.
you didn't know what he is, who he is, or what kind of world he's involved in.
that was the part that was stuck in namjoon's head so deeply. because most people that meet him are already adjusted to him—already well aware, careful with their words and their tones, their intentions.
but you certainly weren't.
because you argued with him. you rolled your eyes and called him annoying. and you meant all of it.
a faint smile pulled at his mouth as he came to a stop at a red light. "twenty-seven," he muttered to himself, shaking his head and laughing slightly.
but still, you didn't hesitate.
he pulls into his place, kills the engine, but doesn’t get out right away. he glances at his phone, sitting in the center console of his car, dark and quiet.
but he doesn't reach for it. because namjoon was a patient man—he always had been. in work, in life, in everything that mattered.
once he gets inside his spacious, sleek home, he dropped his keys on the counter, running a hand through his hair, exhaling.
namjoon had been with plenty of women before. older, younger—in his world and outside of it. he always knows how it goes. he knows how to keep it light and uncomplicated.
but this didn't feel like that. because it felt like something that could get complicated. but instead of pushing it away like he normally would, he leaned into it. just a little.
an hour passes. then two.
namjoon tells himself he's not checking his phone. but it turns out to be a lie, because throughout night—he checks it without picking it up. glancing every time he walks past, like it might light up if he looks long enough. but it doesn't.
he tells himself to relax, that you have a life or that you might not be interested at all. but still—he wonders what you're up to. if you're thinking about him the way he's thinking about you. if you're overanalyzing that moment outside of the coffee shop.
suddenly, his phone buzzed. he doesn't look right away. he just looked at it before reading the unsaved number, no name attached. he picks it up and opens it almost immediately.
unknown: do you always leave girls with this much pressure or am i just special?
he lets out a quiet breath—half a laugh of amusement, half something else. there you finally were, exactly the way he had anticipated. he begins to type before he stops and quickly deletes it.
he leans back against the counter, thinking—not about what to say, but about how much he should give. because namjoon didn't want to rush this. he didn't want to come on too strong.
but he couldn't pretend that he was unaffected either, because he most certainly couldn't even if he wanted to. not with you.
he types again, this time sending it.
him: i was starting to think you wouldn't.
he watches the screen for a second longer than necessary, saving your contact before setting his phone down. it wasn't far, but it was just enough. because now, you know that he was waiting too.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you exhale softy, rolling onto your back with a smile that couldn't help but tug at your lips.
you: oh so you were waiting
a pause settled on the screen before the typing bubble popped up again.
joon: i was curious
you: that sounds like a more mysterious way of saying waiting
joon: you can call it whatever makes you feel better
and now, you definitely smiled at that. because he was already doing that thing again—side stepping without hesitation.
you: you're too difficult to read
joon: you're trying too hard then
you: i think you're just confusing
joon: only for you sweetheart
you actually laugh out loud at that, shaking your head and ignoring the way the nickname made pink tint your cheeks.
you: wow
so is this how you talk to every girl you buy coffee for?
his reply comes faster this time.
joon: i don't buy anyone coffee
you: good answer
joon: an honest one
what are you doing right now?
you glanced around your room like he could somehow see.
you: nothing important
joon: doesn’t sound convincing
you: i could say the same about you
joon: i’m working
you: doing your very mysterious job?
joon: still stuck on that?
you: a little
joon: you'll figure it out eventually
you bit your lip slightly, thinking of an answer.
you: you're very sure i'm going to stick around long enough to figure it out
joon: aren't you?
your heart does that annoying little jump again, and you don't answer right away. and he doesn't send anything else. instead, he waits. three minutes later;
you: maybe
joon: that's a start
another painfully long beat passes before your cellphone vibrates again.
joon: you busy tomorrow night?
you stare at the message, blinking twice to make sure you read it right. but somehow, half of you wasn't surprised. you were practically waiting in a way you couldn't admit. but the other half was incredibly in shock.
you started to type.. deleted it.. then typed again.
you: depends
what are you planning?
joon: something better than coffee
you smiled immediately, even though you tried not to.
you: that's a little confident
joon: doesn't seem like you hate it
you: i don't
joon: good
a pause settled on the screen again.
joon: 8?
you exhaled slowly, the reality creeping in as you stared at the screen. you were really going to go on a date with this man. the same, confident and attractive man that had jumped your car and saved your day. the same man who's age and job you couldn't quite detect.
you: okay
joon: i'll pick you up
don't overthink it
you rolled your eyes, smiling.
you: too late
joon: i know
and just like that, with one text conversation, it definitely was more than just a street thing.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you almost regret saying yes the moment you hear a car pull up outside, engine rumbling lowly outside your apartment window.
not because you didn't want to go, of course. but because now, it's real.
you check yourself in the mirror one last time, smoothing the bumps in your hair and coating your lips with gloss one last time. simple, but intentional. something that said you tried... but didn't try too hard.
your phone buzzed.
joon: i'm outside
when you step out, you see the car first. the same sleek and clean car that had pulled over in front of you on that busy highway engulfed in heat.
then him.
leaning slightly agains the driver's side door, towering over the car with his sleeves pushed up, looking like he's only been there for a minute—but completely settled anyway. he wore a costly-looking dress shirt, glimmering chain around his neck and a sparkling watch wrapped around his built arm. you swallowed hard.
his eyes flick up from the ground immediately when he notices you. and for a second, he just looks at you. completely, unashamedly taking you in with his eyes slowly.
"yeah..." he says lowly, dragging his lips ever so quickly along his lips as you approached him, heels clicking beneath you. "you're going to be a problem tonight."
you couldn't ignore the heat that sent down your spine, but you simply peered up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently. "aren't i always?"
"i haven't seen you always," he replied.
you rolled your eyes, but a small smile pulled at your lips anyway. then, he stepped back, opening the door for you. you don't the miss the way he does it without hesitation. and when you sit inside, you don't miss the way his gaze burns into you before closing your door.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
the drive was easy, music low in the background, city lights coming to life as the sun started to dip below the horizon.
namjoon doesn't fill every silence—and somehow it makes it easier for you to talk.
"so where are you taking me?" you ask eventually.
"you'll see," he says casually, one hand on the steering wheel while the other rested between you.
"that's not helpful."
"it's not supposed to be."
you shook your head, smiling out the window. he pulls up to a restaurant that sits right by everything—the beach, the water, and the city. it was definitely upscale, but nothing intimidating.
inside, the lighting is warm yet dim, swift music playing and low conversations humming.
you were seated quickly. no waiting or confusion. you didn't quite realize the line of people who were standing for a table, and how you and him were able to breeze right past it.
when you arrive to your seat, it's right in front of the window, city lights and palm trees stretching on the glass in front of you. he pulls your seat out for you, helping you take off your coat and placing it along your chair.
after you place your orders, the conversation flows faster this time. less guarded, and more natural.
"so," he says, leaning back in his chair slightly. "what do you actually do?"
you sigh softly, like you already know the answer isn't impressive, even compared to his incredibly vague one. "i’m a waitress," you say. "nothing exciting."
he watches you for a second. "you keep saying that."
"because it's true."
"or because you think it's supposed to be."
that made you pause. "it's not exactly... impressive," you admitted.
he shrugs lightly. "most things that are don't matter."
you let out a small breath, like you didn’t expect that answer. “you always talk like that?” you ask.
“like what?”
“like you know something i don’t.”
a small smirk pulls at his mouth. “sometimes i do.”
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you and namjoon are laughing a few minutes later—about something small and stupid—and it feels easy. too easy.
the song currently playing comes to an end and the music shifts. a different song comes on—smooth, familiar, something that's even playing everywhere recently.
you perked up immediately. "oh my god, i love this song."
he stills ever so slightly. it's quick and barely noticeable, but there's a flicker of something across his face. he glances down at the table, then back up at you. "yeah?" he asks, casual.
"yeah," you nod, smiling. "it's so good."
he hums in response, leaning back in his seat like it's just background noise. "not bad."
you narrow your eyes slightly. "not bad?"
he shrugs. "it's alright."
you laugh. "you're impossible."
and he doesn't argue. but there's a faint smirk but he doesn't fully hide this time.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
the dinner stretches longer than you expected. because neither of you seem to be in a rush to end it.
by the time the check comes, you reach for it instinctively. because at the cafe, he said he would let you get it this time.
but he's faster. of course he is.
"you don't have to—" you start.
"i know."
"that's not fair," you protest.
"it doesn't have to be," he said.
you sigh, but you're already smiling again.
as he hands the card over, the server pauses. "sorry," the server says, almost hesitant. "are you... are you—namjoon—"
namjoon already knows what's coming. he exhales softly, not annoyed at all, just used to it. "yeah," he says with a polite smile. you blinked.
"sorry- i thought so. i didn't want to assume."
he gives a small, reassuring nod.
"do you think i could-" the server gestures awkwardly. "just like, a quick autograph? my brother and i are huge fans."
you completely froze.
fan?
huge?
he doesn't make it a big deal. "yeah, no problem," he says, like it was normal. like this happens all the time. because it does.
he signs something quickly, hands it back with a polite smile.
"thank you—i appreciate it. you two have a great night," the server said before walking off.
silence settled between you for the brief a second. you were completely staring at him now, trying to control your facial expressions as you processed what just happened.
"you didn't tell me that happens to you," you said.
"i didn't think it mattered," he replied casually.
"well," you said slowly. "what exactly do you do?"
there it was. the question he definitely couldn't avoid this time. he leans back slightly, studying your expression. it was curious, but not intimidated or totally impressed. just curious.
"i told you," he said. "music."
you shook your head. "no, you said behind the scenes."
he huffed a small breath, close to a laugh before he paused. "i produce," he said finally. it was simple and direct—no bragging or boasting.
you blink again. "like... that song?"
a beat passes for a small moment before he nods once. "yeah."
and now, the air between you shifted. because now you knew; he wasn't just some guy who stopped to help you on the side of the road.
and somehow, it almost made things worse. because now, you had to figure out why he's here... with you.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
the air outside feels cooler than before. or maybe it’s just because of the way everything shifted inside.
namjoon pushes the door open for you, stepping slightly to the side to let you walk out first—but as you pass, his hand settles lightly at the small of your back.
guiding. not grabbing or lingering too long. just there, resting on your back. it's subtle, but you can feel the intention seeping through you, especially in the way it instantly sends a shiver up your back.
your steps slow for half a second—not enough for him to comment on, but enough for you to notice yourself.
but he notices too.
you both walk a few steps in the parking lot in silence. it wasn't awkward, it was just both of you recollecting the entire night—including who he really was.
“so,” you says finally, glancing over at him, tone light like nothing’s changed, “you’re kind of a big deal, namjoon.”
he exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “no.”
“that guy literally asked you for an autograph.”
“that happens sometimes.”
you narrow your eyes. “that’s not normal.”
“it is for me,” he says simply. it wasn't cocky or defensive, just the honest truth. it should've been intimidating. but you didn't let it land that way.
you shrugged slightly. "okay. but that still doesn't mean i'm impressed."
there's a pause before he looks at you—really looks this time. and something shifts in his eyes, subtle but sharper. more interested and intrigued by the young woman standing before him.
"good," he said lowly.
you blinked. "good?"
“i’d be a little concerned if you were.”
your lips press together slightly, trying not to smile. “you’re unbelievable.”
“i’ve been told.”
you both reach his car, but neither of you move to get in right away. he leans back against it slightly, arms relaxed and eyes fixed on you.
you cross your arms again. not closed off, just grounding yourself under his gaze. "so you just... make songs people know?"
"sometimes," he said with a shrug.
"ugh, that's such a non-answer."
his lips fought a smile at your remark. "it's an accurate one."
you shook your head, a small laugh escaping you. "you're so annoying."
"but you keep talking to me," he points out.
you finally glance up at him fully, and for a second, the eye contact lingers for a moment too long. it causes you to look away first, pink tinting your cheeks.
and namjoon notices everything.
the way you're holding eye contact a little less now. the way you're slightly more aware of yourself. the way you're trying not to let it change anything. but it doesn’t turn him off—it only pulls him in more.
“you got quiet,” he says.
“i didn’t.”
“you did.”
you look away for a second, then back at him. “i’m just thinking.”
“about?”
you hesitate. “nothing,” you say.
he tilts his head slightly, unconvinced—but he doesn’t push. instead, he steps a little closer. not enough to crowd you, but enough to spark the energy in the space between you even more.
“you’re doing that thing,” he comments quietly, eyes trailing up and down your figure.
your brows knit. “what thing?”
“trying to act like nothing changed.”
your stomach flips—annoyingly and immediate. “because nothing did,” you said.
a pause fills the air. he studies your face, like he’s deciding whether to call it out further. “alright,” he says finally.
you exhale softly. “you’re not going to say anything else?”
“i don’t need to.”
“that’s so—” you cut yourself off, shaking your head.
he watches you, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth now. “say it,” he murmurs.
you look at him, trying not to react to the way his voice dropped slightly. “it’s just… a lot,” you admit.
your answer was too honest for your liking, yet he didn't laugh or dismiss it. "yeah," he said quietly. "it can be."
a beat passed. "but i'm still the same guy you had coffee with," he said softly. and those words land, harder than anything else he's said.
you study him for a second, searching for something—ego, arrogance, anything that would make this easier to categorize.
but you don’t find it. instead, you're only able to find that same calm, steady version of him. the one who stopped his car for you. the one who let you decide whether to text him. the one who didn’t even bother to impress you.
“…okay,” you say finally. and you mean it.
there was a small shift in the air between you, the tension softening— but not totally disappearing.
“so,” he says, pushing off the car slightly, “you still letting me drive you home?”
you raise an eyebrow. “do i have a choice?”
“you always have a choice,” he said. a beat passes. "but i’d prefer if you said yes," he confessed playfully.
you huffs out a quiet laugh. “you’re very subtle.”
“i try.”
and for the second time that night, namjoon opens the passenger door for you. and this time, when you got in, it felt different; reality swirling around you and settling into your head.
the drive back was quieter than the one there. it wasn't awkward or empty—just filled with unspoken words and incredibly thick tension.
his gaze was fixed on the road, but you couldn't ignore the way you caught him glancing over at you multiple times in the corner of your eye. the music is low, humming softly through the speakers before another song comes on.
you glance over at the console, then over at him. "did you make this one too?" you ask, half teasing.
he doesn't look at you right away, a smirk pulling at his lips, leaving a sharp shadow along his jaw. "maybe."
you roll your eyes, fully smiling now. "you're never going to give me a straight answer, are you?"
"not all at once, pretty girl."
there it is again. not just the nickname that sent heat through your spine and in between your legs—but that confident, indirect promise of you sticking around long enough to unlock every thing about him.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you're looking out the window, surrounded by the kind of silence that makes everything feel more noticeable. but you're not really seeing or looking at anything, because you're too aware.
too aware of namjoon. the way he drives—one veiny hand on the wheel, relaxed but precise. the way the scent of his expensive cologne and shampoo made your knees weaken. the way he continues to glance over every now and then, quick, like he’s checking something without making it obvious.
you shift slightly in your seat every time he does.
suddenly, his hand moves from the wheel for just a second—resting briefly against the center console as he adjusts his grip. but through that movement, his large fingers brush lightly against your thigh.
he dragged them ever so softly on your thigh for what felt like forever—but only lasted two seconds—before moving his hand back to the center console. his fingers were barely there, not lingering or deliberate enough to call out. but it wasn't exactly accidental enough to ignore either.
your breath catches for just a second, but he doesn't react or apologize. he doesn't even look at you, and somehow that makes it worse.
you swallow hard, turning your head slightly towards the window again. but now you're even more hyper-aware of the space between you. your heart was doing something very annoying again, and you knew it.
he knew it.
he slows the car as you reach your place, parking smoothly before killing the engine. and just like that, everything went still.
neither of you moved right away. you looked down at your hands, then back up like you were about to say something. but you didn't.
he simply watches you for a second, less teasing in his eyes and more focus. he took in every inch of you, sitting so still and pretty in his car. looking at him like he was still the same guy who jumped your car, not like he was a guy who made every hit song. "you got quiet again," he says softly.
you let out a small breath. "you keep saying that."
"because you keep doing it."
you glance at him. this time, you don't look away immediately. "i'm just thinking."
"dangerous," he murmurs, pulling a small smile from you.
you reach for the door handle. "thanks for dinner," you say, like you're trying to keep it normal.
"yeah," he replies with a soft smile.
you open the door, stepping out thinking that the night is wrapped up. that he'll pull away and let you go. but then, you hear his door open too.
he rounds the front of the car, meeting you halfway up the short path to your door. he took his time not rushing—because he never did.
when you stop in front of your door, you turn to face him. and suddenly, it's close. closer than it's been all night. there wasn't a table, a center console, or any distractions now. just him, towering over you and filling your entire vision with nothing but him. his musky cologne quickly filled your nostrils, throwing your mind off balance.
"you don't have to walk me up," you say quietly, close to a whisper.
"i know," he says. but he doesn't step back.
a long pause fills the air, stretching long enough for the tension to feel intentional. his gaze drops briefly, to your lips—then back up to your eyes.
your breath catches again, softer now. but you were too close for namjoon to not notice it. "are you always this—" you start, then stop.
"this what?" he asks lowly, clenching his jaw ever so slightly at the mere sight of you fumbling with your words in front of him.
you shake your head slightly. "i don't even know."
a faint smile pulls at his mouth. "good." he took another step closer, not enough to trap you, but enough for the warmth of his body to wrap around you.
then, his hand lifts, hesitating for half a second before gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. he does it carefully, like he was giving you all the time in the world to pull away. but you didn't.
"you're overthinking again," he murmurs, low eyes scanning every inch of your face.
your voice comes out quieter than you expect. "you keep saying that like it helps."
"it does," he suggests casually.
"how?"
he leans in barely. he doesn't completely close the distance between you, but it was enough to send a bolt of warmth down your body. "because you're still here."
you tilt your head up just a little, before he leans in just a sliver more. and for a second, the moment is right there, sitting heavy in the little distance there was between you.
and then, he stops. just barely, coming to a small still when you could practically feel his breath on you. just enough that it didn't happen.
your eyes flicker across his face, confused, a little breathless. he watches your reaction carefully, low eyes trained onto your every movement.
and suddenly, there's that faint smirk again—but it's softer; barely there and more restrained than usual in a way you almost didn't catch.
"goodnight, doll," he said lowly. "sleep well."
like nothing had almost just happened.
he steps back, ripping the thick air that had just sat between you like a third person. breaking it and leaving you there standing with it.
“you’re—” you start, but you don't even know what to call him.
he tilts his head slightly, licking his lips and averting his gaze down you one last time. “what?”
you exhale half-laugh and half-frustration. “annoying.”
he smiles, dimples pulling at his cheeks. “i know," he says, before turning around and walking back to his car.
from the doorstep, you watch him get in, turn on the engine, and leave. leaving you there with more thoughts than your racing heart could keep up with and a miserable dampness in your panties.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
namjoon's place is quiet again. too quiet.
he tosses his keys down, walks a few steps in, then stops—like his body forgot what he was about to do.
because his mind was entirely somewhere else.
it was still at your door. still immersed into that moment.
he leans back against his kitchen counter, exhaling. he's replaying everything now, like dinner—the way you didn't switch up when you found out what he did. you weren't suddenly impressed or started asking the wrong questions.
you stayed the same. maybe you were a little quieter, a tad bit more aware. but you didn't completely fold.
that absolutely sat under namjoon's skin now. he was completely enamored by you, and didn't want to pull a girl like you into his chaotic world. didn't want you to adjust to him because of who he was, like most people did.
but you didn't. you just took it in, and kept going. you stayed exactly the same—you still called him annoying and told him he wasn't impressive.
he looks at his phone sitting a few feet away. he already gave you control once. he let you decide whether or not to text him, to decide if it was going to go anywhere or not.
but he wasn't going to do that tonight.
him: you always look at people like that or was that just for me?
he sets the phone down, but not far. because you've consumed every inch of his mind again without even trying to. he thinks about the your eyes dropped to his lips, the way you didn't pull away.
his jaw tightened slightly. he knew he was in trouble.
his phone lit up again.
her: like what?
he lets out a quiet breath, a smile pulling at his lips. the way you played it off, like you always did, made him only want more. made him think that maybe he should've kissed you right then and there—should've forgot about being a man and taking his time with you and—
he slowly took in a deep breath through his nose, dragging a hand across his face.
him: like you were about to do something you'd regret
her: don't know if i'd call it regret
namjoon liked that a little too much, licking his lips and leaning back. because now, he knows you felt it too.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
a few days and several text conversations later, namjoon sends you a text on a night he knows you're not working. no question or explanation, just;
joon: be ready at 7
when he picks you up, the air already shifts when you walk outside. it was in the way he looked at you, slow and deliberate, like he wasn't hiding it at all anymore. he takes his time, eyes trailing from your shoes, to the way your skirt falls, the jewelry at your wrist, to your face.
"you always dress like this, doll?" he asks lowly, stepping closer to you.
you raise an eyebrow, ignoring the way the name made your brain feel like mush. "like what?"
"like you knew exactly what you were doing when you picked that."
your lips pressed together slightly, trying not to smile. "maybe i did."
a faint smirk pulled at his lips. "yeah," he agreed. "i think you did."
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
the driver is longer, along the coast again. his tinted windows are cracked, music low with the sky fading into the darkest blue that only happens by the water.
you and namjoon talk, but it's far from that careful, first date way. the conversation flowed between you easily. you interrupted each other, went off on tangents. doubled back to things you both said earlier. like you both have done this together longer than you actually had.
when you arrive, the place is even more secluded than last time. a quiet overlook with soft lights and the ocean extending endlessly in front of you. the sound of waves clashed below in a way that was steady and grounding.
it felt private, like the rest of the world didn't exist here.
you and namjoon sit closer this time without question. dinner stretches and the conversation flows. you don't even discuss all the big things, but it's the way you talk about the small ones that makes it feel different.
you tell him about what hobbies you have, about your job—how it's routine, how people underestimate it, and how sometimes you feel stuck. and he doesn't brush it off or give you empty encouragement like most people did.
"you're not stuck," he corrected you firmly.
you scoff every is slightly. "that's easy for you to say."
"it's not about me," he replies softly. "you just need to find what you want."
you pout slightly in a way that makes his heart falter. "and you have?"
he pauses for half a second. "yeah." that same confidence remained in his tone, and for a second it felt like he might have been talking about something else.
at some point, his hand settles at the back of your chair. but this time, it stays. it wasn't touching you directly, but it was close enough to make you aware of it. aware of him.
you shift slightly and his slender fingers brush at your shoulders. they rest there for a second longer than necessary before pulling back. his warmth and his actions sent an unbearable heat between your legs.
after dinner, you both step away from the table, walking along the edge of the overlook. the night air is cooler now, ocean breeze slipping through you. you and him walk a little closer than before, shoulders lightly brushing with every few steps.
you wrapped your arms around you slightly, and his jacket is already around your shoulders before you can say anything.
you glance back at him, stopping in your steps to look at him properly. "you know... you're very sure of yourself."
"that bothers you?"
"no," you admit honestly. "it's just—different."
he pauses for a small moment. "from what you're used to?" he asks.
you nod slightly. he studies you for a second. "you're trying to figure out how old i am again."
your eyes widen slightly. "i'm not—"
"you are."
you exhale. "okay, maybe a little."
he lets your confession sit in the air before he nods slightly toward a couple walking past you two—a generation older than you, quieter, and settled. "you think i'm closer to them, or closer to you?" he asks.
you look back at the couple, then back at him. you really look at him, thinking about the way he carries himself. the way he speaks. the way he doesn't rush anything.
your expression shifts. "...okay," you say slowly. "how old are you?"
he pauses for longer than just a few seconds. "thirty-three," he answers finally.
you can't help but blink. once. twice. "...really?"
"yeah."
you study him again, like the answer didn't quite align with what you were seeing. "you don't look thirty-three."
"i know," he answered casually.
"that's kind of unfair," you said playfully.
he smiled softly. "i've heard that."
a quiet beat passes as namjoon watches you carefully, curiously watching your expression.
you shrug slightly. "okay."
he tilts his head. "that's all?"
"what?" you ask. "were you expecting something else?"
"most people... adjust," he stated.
you look at him deeply, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "well i'm not most people."
he steps closer, lightly closing the space between you. his scent filled your head once again, making your breath catch.
"yeah," he said lowly. "i noticed."
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
later, when you leave the restaurant together, you don't rush out. you never do.
namjoon walks slightly behind you first as you both headed towards the entrance, one hand finding its way onto the small of your back. it became natural now, something you didn't react to—externally, at least.
his hand was there, guiding you carefully down the steps.
two hostesses near the front glance up. then they glance at namjoon. then to you, then back at him.
a quick look exchanged between them followed by a few whispers and positive smiles. he catches it immediately. of course he does.
namjoon doesn’t look directly at them—he doesn’t acknowledge it—but there’s the faintest change in his expression. then his hand presses just slightly firmer at your back.
a quiet, almost instinctive gesture. not to show off. just to keep you close—and slightly focus the attention on you.
you don't notice the whispers, but you do notice the presence of his hand grow warmer. "what?" you ask, glancing back at him.
"nothing," he says easily.
the lights from the restaurant glowed behind you, the cool night air and a soft breeze coming off the water hitting you all at once.
there's a small set of marble steps leading down towards the parking area. you start down them without thinking—mind entirely captured by namjoon—and suddenly your heel catches slightly.
it's quick—barely a stumble, but it's enough to throw you off balance slightly. his large hands instantly find their way to your waist firmly, tightening his grip and steadying you before you could even process anything.
"careful, baby," he murmurs, low and close. the name slipping out like it had always belonged there.
you freeze for half a second, breath catching slightly before you steady yourself, hand instinctively brushing against his arm.
"I'm fine," you say, a little too quickly, beginning to continue a careful ascend down the steps and ignoring the heat on your cheeks.
namjoon however, doesn't move his hands right away. they linger on your waist a second longer than necessary, making sure you're fully balanced. "i know," he says calmly.
you look up at him, trying to play it off. "you don't have to—"
"i know," he cuts in softly.
and when you reach the bottom of the steps, his hand doesn't leave your back. it stays there, steady, guiding you towards his car like you're already part of his space.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
the drive back is quiet, the low vibration of the music and the city lights and palm trees flickering past practically lulling you to sleep.
and namjoon's presence, of course.
his large hand rested on the wheel, the other on the center console. close enough. by the minute, you swear it continues to get closer.
"tell me about him," namjoon says suddenly, the deep baritone of his voice making your thighs press together slightly.
you frown slightly from confusion. "about who?"
"your ex."
it catches you off guard. "...why?"
he shrugs lightly, sharp eyes still on the road. "i'm curious."
you hesitate before sighing. "he was..." you trailed off, trying to find the right word. "lazy."
half a second passed. "immature," you added. "didn't really pay attention to me unless it was convenient."
and as you talk, namjoon's jaw tightens slightly. it's subtle and controlled in a way you don't notice, but it's there.
"he just-" you shook your head slightly, looking out the window. "i don't know. it felt like I was always asking for the bare minimum."
for a long second, silence fills the car. namjoon's fingers tap once against the console. then, they shift. his hand moves unhurriedly, eventually finding its way to rest against your thigh, making a sharp bolt of warmth shoot down your body.
"yeah," he says finally, voice low and rough. "that sounds about right."
you glance at him. "what does that mean?"
he paused for a second. "guys your age," he continues, calm but edged with something sharper now. "they don't know what to do with a woman like you."
your stomach flips in a way that is impossible to ignore. "and you do?" you ask teasingly, trying to keep your tone steady.
his thumb shifts slightly against your thigh slightly. butterflies erupted in your stomach and your thighs shifted in a way you couldn't help, trying to disregard the heat between your legs.
"i wouldn't ignore you," he says simply.
the air in car seems to shift as you swallow hard, glancing out the window before looking back at him. "you barely know me."
"i know enough," he answers.
your breath catches slightly. namjoon's hand stays sat on your thigh steadily, like he knows exactly what it's doing to you.
"and i definitely wouldn't have you asking for anything," he adds. his words land deeper than they should, etching themselves into the back of your mind without asking.
you let out a quiet, almost nervous laugh. "you're very confident."
"i'm honest," he says. he pauses for a moment. then, his voice drops just a little—"big difference."
you look at him again, thoroughly scanning his face this time. "you always talk like that?" you ask.
"only when i mean it."
another silence settles between you, this time sitting thick; heavy with everything both of you haven't said. his hand finally shifts, but not away from you. it only slides higher along your thigh before settling again.
"relax, doll," he murmurs softly, voice low and deep.
you exhale slowly, trying to steady yourself. "you're doing that on purpose."
"doing what?"
you shake your head slightly. "you know exactly what."
a faint smirk pulls at his lips. "yeah," he answers. "i do."
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
suddenly, the rest of the drive feels too short.
namjoon pulls to your curb, parking swiftly with one hand before cutting the engine. silence fills the space, neither of you reaching for the door immediately.
you look down at your hands, then back up, like you're about to say something—but the words don't come as easily now. because everything, from the restaurant, the drive is still sitting in between you. his hand, his voice. doll.
"you got quiet again," he says softly.
you let out a small breath. "you make it hard not to."
he stills ever so slightly, like your words had pulled something out of him. "do i?" he asks.
you look at him, holding his intense gaze this time. "yeah."
he pauses for longer than normal, eventually moving his hand before his mouth. he starts slow—not to your thigh this time—but higher. his fingers lift, brushing lightly along your jaw. just the tips, tracing the line like he needed to memorize it.
your breath catches immediately, peering up at him through your eyelashes as you seemingly couldn't look away from his face. he tilts his head slightly, watching your reaction closely.
"you always look like this when you're thinking?" he murmurs.
your voice comes out quieter than you expect. "like what?"
his thumb lingers beneath just beneath your chin for just a second. then it shifts slightly, guiding your face just enough so that you're looking directly at him and nothing else.
"like you're trying to figure out if this is a good idea," he says.
your heart practically stumbles. because he absolutely was right. "and?" you ask quietly.
a small smirk pulls at his mouth. but this one was softer, like it was more certainty than teasing. "i think you already decided," he murmurs. his gaze drops briefly, down to your lips, then back up again. this time, he doesn't even try to hide it.
"you're dangerous, you know that?" you say, barely above a whisper.
he leans in slightly, his scent taking over your lungs. "yeah?"
your breath is uneven now. "yeah."
his gaze drifts again, over your face, slower this time. fully taking you in. "you still thinking about the age thing?" he asks.
"no," you respond, holding the burning eye contact.
he studies you for half a second, like he's deciding if you're telling the truth. then, he exhales quietly, almost amusedly. "yeah," he says. "didn't think you would."
his hand lifts from your chin before resting lightly at your waist, thumb pressing just slightly before easing.
"probably better for you," he adds, voicer lower now, teasing but grounded in something real and deep, "if you didn't get used to someone like me."
your stomach flips instantly. "who says i'm getting used to you?" you shoot back, trying to play it off.
a smile tugs at his lips. "doll," he murmurs, softer and closer, the warmth of his breath hitting your neck. "you're already here."
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
a few days later, namjoon sends you an address located in the corner of a private street LA telling you to meet him there. telling you that he wanted to show you something.
a building tucked slightly off the main road, close enough to the water that the air already feels different when you step out of the car.
you hesitate for a half a second before going in. not nervous, but just a little too aware of what you were walking into. with a few instructed taps on the door buzzer, you were let in.
inside, the hallway light is dim, soft lights lining the walls that were decorated with award cases, album posters, and framed vinyls. the floors were sleek and bass echoed through the walls.
you followed the sound the sound down the hallway, until you find a studio door that's slightly open. the gold plate on it reading, "kim namjoon" then below it, "head executive producer."
you exhale softly, heart slightly stopping at that and swallowing a little too hard before you push it gently, and that's when you see him.
sitting at the main console, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting near the soundboard. one hand adjusting a dial, the other resting against his chin like he's listening too closely.
he was so immersed that he hadn't noticed you yet.
the room was lowly lit—colored LEDS instead of overhead lights, the glow from the equipment reflecting softly against his face.
and there's something about him like this—focused, quiet, and completely in his element—that hits differently, making your stomach twist into a knot.
his sleeves are pushed up again, glistening watch catching the light as he moves his hand. a chain rests below his collar, barely visible, but sparkling in the light.
everything about him is so simple, but it fits him all too well. you don't mean to stare, but you definitely do.
and then, like he felt it—namjoon finally glances up. your eyes immediately meet, and you swear you felt a spark flash through your body.
for a split second, he doesn't say anything. he just looks at you, gaze taking you in deliberately.
then, he licks his lips so lightly you almost don't catch it. "you just going to stand there," he says, voice low and soft. "or are you coming in?"
you blink, snapping out of your trance slightly. "i-i didn't want to interrupt."
"you didn't," he replies easily. but his eyes linger on you for a second longer, almost like he knew you were watching him.
you step inside, softly closing the door behind you. the white lighting from the hallway had disappeared now, fully engulfing you into his world—his studio, his creative space—the place where he made every hit even possible. the big room suddenly felt smaller now, more private.
you look around, taking it all in. the walls are boarded with soundproof panels, and large speakers are placed around the sleek equipment. there's two chairs, a beanbag, and couch with folders of music sheets and lyrics scattered on the floor and on counter tops. "this is... really nice."
"mm," he hums, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs slightly. "it works."
you glance at him. "you say everything like that."
"like what?"
"like it's not a big deal."
a faint smirk. "it's not."
you roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. he gestures towards the seat next to him. "come here." it wasn't a question.
you walk over, sitting beside him—closer than expected, immediately greeted by his warmth and the musk of his cologne.
he turns towards the console, grabbing a pair of high-end headphones. "listen to this," he says. he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear before carefully placing them over your head.
music plays—smooth and layered. it had no lyrics, but it was already catchy. you hummed in delight. "it's really good," you said softly, gently taking the headphones off.
"i know," he replies casually.
you laugh. "you're insufferable."
he glances at you, a smirk forming. "you're still here though."
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
after a few minutes of namjoon showing you some buttons, he glances at you. "you want to try something?"
you look at him, a bit hesitant. "like what?"
he shifts slightly, turning your chair just enough so that your angled more towards the board. "come on," he says, nodding towards the controls. "i'll show you."
"...i feel like i'm going to mess something up," you say.
"you won't."
"how do you know?"
he leans in slightly, his breath hitting your neck ever so slightly. "because i'm right here."
your stomach flips again. he reaches around you slightly, one hand bracing lightly against the edge of the console near you, the other guiding your hand toward a dial.
“turn this,” he says, voice lower now, near your ear.
you try to focus. you really do. but namjoon is close. too close. his warmth spilling all over you, hitting you in all the places that made your thighs pull closer together.
you turn the dial slowly—and immediately the sound distorts in a ridiculous way. you both pause.
"...was that supposed to happen?" you ask.
he stares at the board for a second before a short laugh escapes him, dimples tugging at his cheeks. "no," he says.
you burst out laughing. "i told you!"
he shakes his head with another laugh, reaching forward to fix it, his arm brushing yours again. "you didn't break it," he says. "relax."
"i definitely did something."
"you did," he replies with a smile. "just not what i said."
you laugh again, softer this time.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you're standing now, not sitting anymore.
because namjoon told you to.
“stand here,” he said, guiding you lightly by the waist until you were in front of the soundboard. no asking, just placing you there. you stiffened under his touch that sent a light shock through you.
"relax, doll," he murmurs behind you. the deep baritone of his voice hitting a little too close.
you exhale slowly, trying to focus on the board in front of you—but it's hard when you can feel him right behind you. he steps in closer, practically pressing you together.
one hand reaches around you, bracing against the console. the other finds yours, fingers sliding over yours, adjusting your grip on one of the controls. "not like that," he says, low. "too quick."
"i'm not doing anything fast," you defend weakly, trying your best to sound steady.
you hear a quiet, almost amused exhale behind you. "yeah?" he murmurs deeply.
his chest brushes lightly against your back as he leans in closer, guiding your hand again—slower this time. "you rush when you're nervous."
"i'm not nervous."
"mm," he hums, unconvinced. his hand tightens slightly over yours, turning the dial with you. the sound shifts, smoother this time. "like that," he says.
but he doesn't move away, not even a little bit. you swallow, your body hyper-aware of every point of contact. his hand over yours, his chest behind you, his voice vibrating your ear. and you definitely tried to ignore something hard resting against your ass.
"you do this with everyone?" you ask.
"no," he answered simply.
at to that, your heart stumbled. his hand left yours, but only came to settle at your waist, firm and steady. in his grip he turned you slightly—not fully, but enough to turn your attention away from the board and onto him. "you're distracted again," he murmured.
you let out a soft breath. "you keep saying that like it's my fault."
a smirk pulls at his lips, one that you can practically hear in his voice. "doll," he says lowly, "you haven't been focused since you walked in."
your stomach flips as you turn your head slightly, giving just enough space to look back at him—but it's a mistake. because he's already looking at you, his face much closer than expected and barely any space left between you now.
"you always get like this?" he asks softly.
"like what?"
his gaze drops slowly, then back up again. "quiet." he pauses. "...when you feel something."
your breath catches. "you act like you know me," you say.
"i do," he replies casually. those words shouldn't hit you as hard as they do, but they do anyway—causing your heart to leap.
he shifts you fully this time, making you fully face him as his large hands still rested at your waist, thumbs pressing in ever so slightly.
"or maybe," he adds, voice quieter now. "you're just not used to someone who pays attention."
your chest rises slowly. "and you do?"
"to you?" he asks quietly, something flickering across his eyes. "of course i do."
a small pause. "i wouldn't ignore you," he mutters in your ear, breath hot down your neck in a way that makes your hairs stand up. his hand tightens slightly against you. "not like they did."
his words land, striking the base of your heart deeply. "and i definitely wouldn't have you guessing where you stand."
your breath is uneven now, but you can't seem to look away. "confident," you murmur.
"experienced," he corrects simply. his voice and his head dips lower just slightly—"difference is...i know how to treat a woman like you properly."
and suddenly the last thread holding you steady is already gone. you exhale softy, almost a laugh, but not quite. "you always talk like this?"
"only when i mean it."
silence fills the space around you, heavy and close. one of his hands lifts from your waist slowly before coming to your jaw and tracing along it deliberately, just like he did before.
his thumb sits at your chin, tilting your face up just slightly. it takes everything in you for your knees to not buckle right then and there, taking in his low, piercing gaze.
"you keep looking at me like that," you whisper.
"like what, hm?" he asks, voice low as he tilts his head lower, leaving little space between your noses. you felt like your whole world was spinning, trying to ground yourself properly without clinging onto him.
"like you're about to do something."
he pauses for a split second, licking his lips while his eyes practically swirled with darkness. then—low and certain—"i am."
and this time, namjoon doesn't stop himself. he leans in, fully closing the last bit of distance between you, crashing his lips onto yours. it's immediate—but not rushed. he kisses you slow, deep, like he's been holding it back for too long and finally had decided he was done.
you respond quickly, completely melting under the contact and moving your lips into his. your breath catches against his, one hand instinctively finding one of his big arms, while the other gripped on his shirt to steady yourself— because it hits you all at once.
the way he pulls you closer against him, one of his hands firmly settled at your waist while the other holds your head possessively, gently tilting your head at an angle that allowed him to kiss you deeper.
you lean into him without thinking—and he feels it, of course. he hooks his fingers around the belt loop of your denim skirt, pulling you even closer. the kiss deepens—but it isn't overwhelming. it's certain, like he wanted to take his time with his lips against yours.
your fingers tightened against him, causing him to exhale quietly against your lips, like he had been waiting for that exact response from you.
when you both pull back, you barely move an inch. foreheads close, breath uneven, and neither of you pulling away. his hands remain at your waist, yours still on him.
and after a second of catching your breath—namjoon leans in again. not because he's testing it anymore, but because he wants it—no, he needs it again. and you seem to meet him there just as fast.
his lips capture yours for the second time that night, practically taking your breath with him. your thighs press together slightly as you kiss him back, your hand sliding higher along his arm, gripping his bicep and pulling him closer without even realizing it.
his grip tightens slightly. "don't start something you can't finish, doll..." he murmurs quietly against your lips, voice rough.
the kiss suddenly shifts, not messy or rushed—but hungry. namjoon's hand slid shamelessly down your waist and onto your ass, sliding up and down its curve like it was already his.
that pulled a gasp out of you, and he saw it as the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. you allow him, opening your mouth more to let him further explore it with his tongue. your lips practically molded together, saliva mixing as he swirled his tongue around yours.
"look at you..." he mutters, barely pulling back, his thumb brushing your jaw again. "so responsive."
your stomach flips more times than you can count. "don't—" you start, breath uneven, but you can't even finish the sentence before you feel dampness between your legs.
"don't what, baby?" he asks lowly, smirking faintly against your lips. "don't notice you?"
he kisses you again before you can answer. his hand slides up from your ass, up your waist to your side—slower and more deliberate, before settling it there again, like he's grounding you there with him.
your grip on him tightens, deepening the kiss without intending to. "doll..." he murmurs, quietly now like it's a warning.
but he doesn't stop, and you most certainly don't want him to. all of a sudden namjoon is moving, guiding you back without breaking the kiss, step by step, until the back of your legs hit the couch.
you exhale softly in surprise—before you're sitting and he is too, pulling you with him. now, you find yourself on his lap—straddled on top of him with his hands firmly gripping your thighs and with everything much closer.
your hands find his broad shoulders, this time holding onto him like you desperately need to steady yourself, leaning into him once more. and namjoon notices, like he always does.
a low exhale leaves him, almost like a quiet laugh. "not pulling away anymore, are you, baby?" he murmurs, brushing his lips along your jaw slowly while his big palms drag up and down your thighs.
his plush lips trace the line of your jaw, littering soft kisses and your head tilts slightly to give him space without even thinking about it. "good," he praises quietly against your skin, lips trailing their way down your neck.
as he presses soft kisses along your neck, one of his hands presses a little firmer into your thigh, keeping you against him as the other rested gently at your neck—not enough to put pressure—but enough for your mind to go blank and make your thighs noticeably shift.
your breath hitches just above him, and his other hand soothes slowly against your thigh to steady you. "you have no idea..." he murmurs, lightly digging his teeth into your skin, making you shudder. "how hard i was trying to take my time with you."
your fingers tighten against him, struggling to ignore the unbearable ache in your core. "then why aren't you?" you manage softly, voice weaker than usual, knowing you didn't want that.
he paused for a moment, the warmth of his breath tingling down your neck and through your spine. his voice comes lower this time, but steadier. "because you stopped me from wanting to."
he pulls back just enough to look at you again, dark and low eyes trailing every inch of your face. his hand comes up, brushing your hair behind your ear slowly, slower than before.
"you're trouble, princess," he says lowly, another nickname rolling off his tongue with ease. "but i like it."
your breath is still uneven, your heart racing faster than your mind—but you don't look away. "good," you murmur.
namjoon's jaw tightens slightly at that—not in frustration, but in complete restraint. what's left of it, at least.
his hand that rested along your neck slid up, tilting your chin upwards with his thumb once again, making sure that you were really looking at him. "you sure about this, doll?" he asks lowly.
you nod without hesitation. "yes."
a small pause fills the thick, small space between you, but his smoldering gaze doesn't leave yours. his gentle hold on your jaw tightens ever so slightly—not to harm you, but to ground you into the moment. "you understand...i'm not the kind of man you forget after this."
your breath catches, but you don't pull back. "i know," you say softly, holding his gaze.
his hands return to your waist, firmer this time, pulling you just slightly closer to him—close enough that space barely existed anymore. "yeah..." he murmured, his thumb tracing lightly along your skin. "then stay with me."
you nearly shuddered from his words, the warmth of his body on yours surrounding you and making your skin tingle. "i will," you nearly whispered, praying that he couldn't feel the dampness between your legs at the thought of never leaving his side.
"good," he grunted in your ear, hot breath spilling down your neck. he pulled back just slightly before closing the space between you once again, tilting your head with his thumb and pulling your lips in with his unhurriedly.
you immediately softened into him as you moved your lips together, your chest immediately becoming flush against his and practically folding underneath his touch. his hands left your waist, finding their grip lower and onto your ass, holding you steadily against him while his tongue explored you once more.
his lips left yours to litter your neck with kisses—sloppy and open-mouthed this time, sucking harder and marking a trail of red marks down to your collarbone. you whimpered with every suck, thighs noticeably shifting against his legs.
namjoon's slender fingers found their way underneath your top, sliding it up slowly—like he was waiting for you to stop him—but you never did. you only complied, lifting your arms up. and in one swift motion, your top was off, and his lips already found themselves on your cleavage.
"so beautiful, baby," he murmured into your skin, tongue lightly lapping against the mark he had just made on top of your breast.
suddenly you felt his big palms on your waist once again before he manhandled you—lifting you up and lying you gently across the couch before his large figure quickly filled your vision and filling up your entire view.
all you could see in the ambient light of his studio was his broad shoulders, his low, piercing eyes, and glimmering chain now hanging in front of your face before he captured your lips again. you practically moaned into it, fingers gripping tightly into his shirt like you needed more.
"fuck," he murmured against you between kisses, intertwining his long fingers with yours, dragging your palm deliberately up his chest. your hands moved before your mind, tugging him closer by his shirt and immediately fumbling with the buttons.
he smirked, large hands moving to help you take it off. once he tossed it somewhere in the room, your hands danced around his body greedily, trailing over his abs, from his chiseled chest and to his swell back.
"should be taking you to my house like a fuckin' man. should fuck you in my bed slow 'n proper. but i've lost my patience with you, doll," he breathed lowly, licking his lips with hunger.
you could only bring yourself to whimper, as namjoon's big palm creeped around your thigh, trailing every so slowly inwards before stopping. your legs couldn't help but twitch helplessly underneath his touch, causing him to let out an amused breath of air.
"but you don't want that, do you?" he asked lowly in your ear, the desire in his voice making your core ache with unbearable need. his hands trailed closer to your heat, dragging his fingers leisurely against your inner thigh.
you shook your head desperately, but that wasn't enough for him. his fingers hooked around your skirt. "wanna hear you use that pretty mouth of yours, baby."
"i—yes—" you blurted breathlessly, struggling to find the words. "i want it—want you. here, joonie. right now."
his cock strained even harder against his pants. "good girl," he muttered before pulling your skirt down. when it was disregarded, namjoon's hands found your thighs again and you suddenly felt his long fingers trace against slowly against your sopping heat barely shielded by your lacy thong, sending a shiver down your entire body.
"wet for me already and i haven't even started with you," he smirked, finally hooking your panties to the side and letting your soaking core be hit by the cold air. your thighs instinctively went to clamp shut, but he quickly stopped them with his big hands.
"so sensitive, doll," he murmured, placing one big thumb just above your clit while the other fingers outlined your inner thigh. "guys your age don't take their time like this, do they?"
you shook your head immediately, whining out before his fingers glided up slowly against your wetness, his index finger swiping in between your folds. his thumb rubbed your clit in a long circle, pulling out a desperate whine out of your mouth.
finally, he pushed one long finger in between your folds, sliding into your hole that sucked him in, your wetness gushing his fingers. you whined loudly as he dragged it along your walls before plunging back in.
namjoon closed the distance between your faces, capturing your lips in with his and sucking on your bottom lip as he inserted another finger, thrusting into you at a steady pace while his thumb remained on your clit.
when he pulled away, it was only to align his face at your entrance. his hand firmly gripped onto your thighs, holding you in place. his fingers slowed inside of you as his nose came close to your core, the warmth of his breath directly hitting your pussy and making you twitch underneath him.
a small smirk pulled at his lips before he poked his tongue out, licking a light, gentle stripe against your folds. "mm, taste so sweet, baby."
you reacted immediately, thighs clenching around his head in a way he enjoyed a bit too much, his free hand wrapping around your leg firmly as he lapped delicately at your entrance.
you moaned his name, legs finally relaxing under his grip as he took his time with soaking your taste on his tongue. namjoon couldn't help but smirk against your folds, his plump lips completely enveloping your pussy into his mouth and sucking your wetness in hungrily.
it wasn't long before you felt his tongue greedily prying through your entrance, crying out in breathless moans. his two fingers stretched open your walls to allow more room for him to explore you with his tongue.
namjoon was absolutely driving you over the edge—his tongue plunged through your tight walls like no other, slender fingers stroking your insides while his thumb massaged your clit vigorously. he ate at you like he had starved for this—your back immediately curving off of the couch as you felt unbearable pressure twine into your stomach.
"that's it, doll," he cooed against your folds, his nose sitting on top of your clit. then, his voice dropped lower—"cum for me."
and so you did—completely letting go as your first orgasm tore through you like lightning. your legs shook around namjoon's head, his free hand rubbing against your thigh gently while his two fingers slowed inside of you. his tongue moved against your folds slowly, taking in every last drop of your release between his lips.
when your body was finally at ease from the state of euphoria he took you to, namjoon trailed kisses from your stomach and up, his hands gently caressing your sides.
"look at you taking me so good," he murmured between kisses, lips on yours now. "think you're ready for my cock, hm, baby?"
you nodded quickly, practically squirming beneath him. "yes joon—need it so bad." your fingers found his belt loop—his large hands finding yours immediately, helping you take off his pants entirely.
it was then when you saw the largest imprint strained tightly against his boxers, making you swallow hard without even realizing. his fingers looped around the hem, taking them off in a swift motion as he stood up.
his cock sprung out in front of you—thick, long, and angry with pre-cum glistening at the end. you sat up straight, jaw slightly slack without even realizing. namjoon's lips fought a smirk as he hovered over you, large shoulders swell and thick member curving up.
his low eyes looked down at you, clouded with darkness. he wrapped his large hand around the thick base of his cock, stroking slightly while taking in the sight of you in front of him.
"fuck," he grunted, "don't got any condoms, baby."
"it's okay, joon," you replied softly.
"you sure, doll?" he asked, tracing his fingers lightly against your jaw, tilting your head to look up at him fully.
you nodded. "wanna feel all of you," you said almost shyly.
"have no clue what you're doing to me," he responded lowly, almost to himself. then namjoon leaned down, grabbing your hips and lifting you up swiftly. you yelped in surprise as he sat down, bringing you back on top of his lap. only this time, you were skin to skin, your arousal miserably smearing onto his legs.
but he didn't seem to care. his large hands rubbed softly down your sides as he licked his lips. "you're so small, baby," he muttered in your ear, his thumb pressing into the side of your hip. "might break you."
"that's okay," you whispered, peering up at him with big, needy eyes.
"yeah?" he asked darkly, like your response had just snapped the last bit of restraint left in him. he held onto your hips firmly as he pulled you up, aligning your entrance with his cock. "gonna ruin you then, baby."
your hands gripped onto his broad shoulders immediately to steady yourself, his fat tip pushing through your folds and breaking into your tight entrance. you moaned out in a mix of pleasure and pain, feeling every inch of his width pushing slowly into your walls as you sunk down fully on his lap.
his grasp on you became tighter as he guided you further down, hissing in pleasure as he split you open widely with his cock. your eyes shut tight as your inner thighs kissed his. slowly, the tip of his member found the back of your walls, your eyes shutting tightly from the overwhelming stretch.
namjoon held you against him firmly, allow you to fully adjust to his length before he captured your lips into a kiss. "it's okay, doll," he murmured against you. "you're taking me so well."
after a minute of soft, warm coos in your ear—namjoon began to slide you up and down his vast length slowly with his large hands, emitting a loud whine from your lips. soon, he picked his pace, his cock repeatedly kissing the deepest part of your hole. "good baby... that's it," he praised lowly.
your head was filled with nothing but the thought of you, him, and his fat cock curving up inside of you and exploring your walls. he took you to a pure state of euphoria as he thrusted up in you. his hold was firm on you as he bounced you up and down his cock.
your eyes fluttered at your view, melting under his piercing gaze— his jaw tightened in pleasure and concentration, low eyes scanning your fucked-out expression hungrily. you nearly screamed in pleasure.
"such a good girl for me," he grunted in your ear, one large palm trailing up your sides before resting along your neck. his fingers wrapped around it slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to apply pressure that made your mind dizzy and your pussy clench his member tightly.
his other hand came firmer around your waist before suddenly you were moving—your head being guided back down on the couch while your body was being manhandled by namjoon while he kept his cock buried deep inside of you. one hand settled beside your head while the other remained grazing your throat lightly.
once you both fully adjusted to the new position, namjoon continued to thrust in you, roaming your pussy at an entirely new angle. your wetness gushed around his cock sloppily, filling the room with lewd slapping noises. "you fit around me so well, doll," he muttered breathlessly, breath shooting down your spine as he littered messy kisses along your neck.
his hand traveled from your throat down to your thighs, finding your clit and rubbing it softly. you were a moaning mess beneath him as he fucked you relentlessly now, tip slapping messily against the spongiest part of your walls, making your mind go blank.
his palm found its way around your thigh, lifting it above his shoulder. he closed the distance between you two, cock greedily marking a place inside your hole in a way no one had ever done before as his chest pressed against yours.
he rutted his length inside of you, making your eyes roll back and the couch move back and forth with every movement. "gonna fill you up tonight, doll. gonna make you mine," he murmured. "what do you think, baby?"
you could only moan in response, lost in the feeling of his cock buried so deeply inside of you. "nuh uh," namjoon ticked lowly, his thrusts becoming brutal. "wanna hear that pretty voice of yours, baby."
"mmph—yes~ make me yours, joon," you whined breathlessly.
you cried out—heat coiling unbearably in your stomach, pure bliss clouding your mind as namjoon picked up his pace, feeling your walls hugging him in tightly. "yeah... right where you belong baby," he muttered. "taking me so good like this."
your second orgasm of the night hit you even harder this time—ripping through you like a monstrous ocean wave. he fucked you through your high, your legs shaking violently against him; release spilling all over his cock as you moaned out his name breathlessly.
"that's it, baby," he grunted lowly as he made his final, slower thrusts, burying himself inside you as deep as possible before releasing his hot seed into your walls. "come on my dick, pretty girl."
your vision was practically filled with stars as your body became limp under his grasp. he milked his cock deep in your walls before he pulled out with a sharp hiss, laying down beside you—lengthy body half on the couch and half off of it.
you both laid there next to each other breathless, chests moving up and down in sync as you processed what had just happened.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
suddenly, the studio is quiet again.
it wasn't completely silent—just the low hum of equipment filling the room with one of his tracks still looping quietly in the background.
clothes half-on, curled against him on the couch with his large arm around your waist, holding you close against his chest like he had no intention of letting you drift away.
for awhile, neither of you say anything. namjoon's fingers moved slowly against your side, absentmindedly tracing soft patterns into your skin. the movement only grounded you into him more.
then finally, a low exhale left namjoon's lips. "c'mere," he murmurs softly, even though you were already pressed against him. his big hands slid higher along your back, pulling you in even closer anyway until your head was resting properly against his chest.
it only made your cheeks flush a bright red—the moment feeling possessive in a way that was ever so gentle. like he just needed to make sure you were still there. now, you can hear his heartbeat. it thumps steadily now against his large chest.
"you okay?" he asks quietly.
you nod against him. "yeah," you reply softly.
then his lips brush lightly against the top of your head, placing a soft kiss that lingers. "good," he murmurs.
something about the way he said it made warmth spread through your chest again. his hand settles at your waist once more, thumb brushing lightly beneath the fabric of your top. "you still overthinking?" he asks after a minute.
you let out a small laugh against his chest. "maybe a little."
a quiet hum leaves him. "don't."
you tilt your head slightly to look at him. his expression is softer now. his gaze still intense—because he always looks intense when looking at you—but softer. "you regret it?" he asks gently.
you shook your head immediately. "no," you replied, meaning it with everything in your chest.
at your words, something in namjoon's expressions shifts. it wasn't surprise, it was only something deeper. his hand moves to your jaw, thumb brushing slowly along your cheek.
"good," he says again, quieter this time. then, like his confidence had just made a return—"would've been a problem if you did."
you laugh softly, cheeks warming again. "you're crazy, joon."
"for you?" he murmurs. "starting to think maybe."
your stomach flips all over again. namjoon studies you for a second, gaze moving slowly across your face like he's memorizing it. like he still can't believe that you're here. with him, and in his arms.
his hand slides along your thigh gently. this time, it isn't teasing. instead, it feels familiar and warm. "come back to my place," he says quietly.
you hesitate for maybe half a second, but only because your heart is racing faster than your mind. his thumb brushes lightly against your leg. "you don't have to leave, doll," he murmurs.
"you sure?" you ask quietly. because in your past, once guys were done, they were done with your presence for the night—or even forever.
"of course," he says. then, a faint smile touches his mouth, voice dropping a little. "i'm not doing being around you."
and it only seemed that you weren't exactly done being around him either.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
two months later, being with namjoon feels easy. and it wasn't because he was simple. it was the exact opposite.
he's still intense, but still composed. he still walks through every room like he owns it without needing attention from anyone in it. but with you? he's soft in all the places it matters.
namjoon becomes part of your life so naturally it almost scares you sometimes.
mornings tangled up in his expensive sheets while sunlight pours through the massive windows of his house that overlooks the city. his large hand resting on your waist while he scrolls through emails lazily with the other. his bright smile on display every time he made you laugh or blush.
in his free time, he'd show up to your work with your favorite dinner meal. sometimes, he'd sit at a table in your section and order food just to be able to talk to you any chance you'd get.
afternoons where he pulls you into his lap while he's working on music. he'd barely let you sit more than a foot away from him before he was already touching you again somehow.
his fingers through your hair, your legs draped over his. his mouth against your temple when he quietly tells someone important over the phone that he'll "call back later."
and of course, he spoils you constantly. it wasn't in a loud way either. it was more like taking care of you and putting a smile on your face had just become his instinct.
he buys you things you casually mention liking once. he leaves designer bags on the bed like it's nothing. he'd get annoyed when you'd check price tags. he would sneakily place things in your cart at sephora as he trailed behind you, filling it up with everything you simply picked up at looked at.
you even tried to avoid going shopping with him sometimes because you never happened to pay for anything again.
"doll," he murmured one night, pulling your back against his chest, wrapping his large arms around you while you stared at a pair of brand new, christian louboutin red bottoms that he bought you. "if you like them, they're yours. stop thinking so hard."
and god, he hated it when you worked too much. he hated it even more when work stressed you out.
"you should call out," he tells you one morning, voice rough from sleep while you're leaving his bed for work.
you laugh softly. "some of us have to work, joonie."
his buff arms loop around your waist, pulling you back into the mattress effortlessly. "i know," he murmurs against your neck, nuzzling his nose into your warmth. "that's the problem."
eventually, namjoon starts saying it more seriously.
"quit," he says.
you look at him like he's insane every time. "be serious, joon."
"i am serious."
his hands slide along your thighs as you stand between his knees while he sits at the edge of the bed, looking up at you with that same, calm certainty he’s always had.
“i’ll give you whatever you need,” he says simply. “why are you stressing yourself out when you don’t have to?”
and the craziest part of it all to you, was that he meant it entirely. it wasn't because he wanted control—it was because taking care of you pulled at his dimples and his heart more than anything else ever had.
somewhere along the way, you became each other's favorite part of life. people notice too and eventually, the internet catches on.
a photo of you two start surfacing of you leaving restaurant in west hollywood, his hand firm at the small of your back. then, photos of him opening the door for you. and photos of him looking at you instead of the camera.
one set of paparazzi pictures blow up incredibly fast—you climbing into his car while he stands beside you in sunglasses and all black. one hand casually resting against the roof above your head, the other firm on your thigh as you settled into the seat.
neither of you comment on it, not publicly at least. but namjoon doesn't hide you either. because if anything—he loved being seen with you.
you noticed it in the small moments. the way his hand settled on your thigh more confidently when people recognized him on a date. the way he pulled you closer when cameras appeared. the way he looks almost amused by attention instead of irritated.
it was like he was always thinking, yeah, she's with me.
namjoon flexed you more than the music plaques on his wall or the collection of sleek cars in his driveway.
because throughout his entire career, no success, no hit record, or no amount of money—had ever made him look at proud as you do sitting beside him.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
4 months later~
the city outside namjoon's windows is glowing gold and white beneath the dark sky, soft music playing quietly somewhere in his giant house.
you're curled against him on the couch in one of his hoodies. legs across his lap while he scrolls lazily through something on his phone with one hand resting absentmindedly along your thighs.
you both had been like this all evening. quiet and comfortable; surrounded by the kind of silence that only exists when two people know everything about each other completely.
honestly, it could scare you a little. because somewhere along these four months, you and namjoon had stopped feeling temporary. it stopped feeling like some kind of whirlwind or fling.
instead, it just started feeling right. it just felt like you and him and nothing else completely belonged.
you looked over at him. observed the sharp line of his jaw that was softened by the warm lighting. the expensive watch sitting around his wrist. the reading glasses he only wore at home that sat low on his nose while he checked emails.
the realization hit you about a month ago so hard and your chest had felt tight ever since. you were completely, undeniably, and utterly in love with him. but now, you couldn't seem to hold it in anymore.
"you're staring again."
your heart jumps slightly. namjoon doesn't even look up from his phone when he says it. you roll your eyes. "you're obsessed with yourself."
a smirk touches his lips. "no," he murmurs calmly, finally looking over at you. "just obsessed with you."
you look away before he can see your flushed face, but of course he already noticed it. because there simply wasn't a thing he didn't notice about you. his phone turned off immediately. "hey," he said gently.
your eyes lift back to his. immediately his expression changes into something softer, but more serious. his hands slide up from your thigh to your waist, pulling you a little closer across the couch until you're practically in his lap. "what's going on in that head, hm?" he asks.
"nothing."
"liar."
the words are gentle, affectionate in a way. you laugh softly, but it comes out nervous. he catches that too. one hand comes up, brushing lightly along your jaw. "talk to me, doll."
you swallow. your voice comes out quietly—"what if... i love you more than you love me?"
the room goes completely still. namjoon stares at you for seconds that stretch far too long, like you had just said something completely. unbelievable.
his brows pulled together. "baby," he says softly, confused, "what?"
your heart pounds instantly at the name. you try to laugh it off, suddenly embarrassed now. "i don't know, i just—"
"no," he cuts in, hands tightening gently at your waist. they weren't harsh, but it was enough to stop you from spiraling away. "no, don't do that."
you looked back at him. and the way he was looking at you now—god. like this mattered. like you mattered.
"you really think you're ahead of me here?" he asks quietly, eyes boring into yours.
your breath catches as namjoon shifts closer, forehead resting lighting against yours. "i've been in love with you for a while now," he admitted softly.
for a second, you felt like you actually stopped breathing. his thumb brushed slowly against your cheek. "you just took longer to realize it."
a shaky laugh leaves you instantly, eyes burning now. namjoon smiles softly at that, an expression you only ever get to see.
"i love you," he says again, quieter this time. but it was certain, as if it were the most obvious thing it the world.
and suddenly every fear you had—about the age gap, about his fame, about his feelings for you—had totally disappeared. because this man—this calm, confident, impossible man—loves you so deeply that he didn't even hesitate to say it.
your eyes fluttered in disbelief, laughing away the butterflies in your stomach. "i love you too."
the smile that breaks across is face is small, but almost disbelieving. but it was unquestionably proud, like he had just won something prized. after that, he kissed you slowly. he enveloped your lips with his tenderly, soaking in all of your warmth beneath him.
"there you are," he murmurs softly. like you were always meant to end up here with him.
and somewhere between the side of the road and his arms, your little street thing had become everything.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
a/n : hope u guys loved this as much as i do eee! sorry there was so much relationship building... this is the longest bts fic i've made (on this app at least) omg..but joon is actually so sexy i could die.
could see this turning into a small series bc they’re lowk otp!! hehe :3 but who knows...