Not Much To See Here

She/her, 33 ♎️, Wife, & Mama 💕

[btsugarush]

GANGSTA | myg- 008

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, gang related activity, and murder; five things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni.

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f.reader.

word count: 77K.

masterlist directory

You stared back at the brunet, unable to form words. Two days of absolute silence, and here he was so suddenly. You didn't know whether to be angry or relieved at his presence. "I, uh, went to Makoto, but your boss said you never came in for your shift or called," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thought I'd come make sure you were okay."

“A call would have sufficed, if you actually cared,” you stated flatly. You decided both emotions were valid. You were undeniably happy to see Jungkook, but the sight of him only magnified your anger. It shouldn't have taken him two days to finally reach out.

"I thought it was better to give you space after what happened. I know how you are, y/n."

You let out a short scoff. "How I am?" you questioned, furrowing your eyebrows, your voice slightly rising. “Go ahead and enlighten me on how I am, Jungkook.”

Jungkook sighed, his lip ring clanking against his teeth as he pulled his bottom lip inward. “Can we talk inside? I really don’t wanna do this in your hallway.” He pleaded. Jungkook was never truly the confrontational type, which contradicted you because you in fact were the confrontational type.

You huffed, brushing past him to unlock your apartment door. Once both of you were inside, you shut the door firmly. Jungkook immediately walked to your couch and sat down, patting the cushion beside him as an invitation for you to sit. You hesitated for a brief moment before giving in, placing your plushy and purse on the table.

You sat beside him, hands clasped tightly in your lap, avoiding eye contact. The tension in the silence was thick. “So... why weren't you at work today? It's not like you to miss a shift.” he finally started. You fiddled with your fingers, scrambling for an excuse for your absence. “I….umm… went to the Daegu fair,” you admitted, only fabricating the truth just a tad. "With Mina."

Jungkook tilted his head, a frown forming his lips. "You did a no-call, no-show to go to the Daegu fair? What were you thinking?" he asked, ready to lecture you. You certainly weren't in the mood to hear it, especially from him. Not now. It felt like he was deliberately trying to pivot away from the real issue at hand; your relationship and his cold, dead silence.

"I was thinking I wanted to have some fun, and not sit at work wondering why the man I care about ghosted me for two days." you snapped. This brought the brunet down a notch, making him exhale heavily. The room fell silent once again, but not for very long. "Look, I'm sorry," Jungkook said. "It's just... we've been best friends since we were kids and–"

“And you still only see me as that." You cut him off.

"No," he countered sternly. "What we have is special because of our history. We got to be best friends before having a romantic connection, which is rare. You're not like any girl I've dated. You’re much more to me. I don't want to mess this up. I don't wanna lose you. I can't. The thought terrifies me because I’m losing more than my girl, I’m losing my best friend too,"

Your eyes finally connected with his, your demeanor softening at his words. "I want our first time to be special," he continued. "I don't want it to be random sex like I’m used to. I want your first experience to be your best experience.”

You sighed, nodding your head. "You're right. It should be special..." you replied. You understood Jungkook's view; it was sweet, and it showed just how much he truly valued you. You appreciated his sentiment, but you were still frustrated. Sexually frustrated. You were ready for more. It was easy for Jungkook to sideline sex when he’d been having it since high school. Meanwhile, you, the innocent virgin, had spent all this time waiting for your first crush to choose you. Now that he finally has, the reward feels slightly lackluster.

"I'm sorry," you finally said. You weren't entirely sure if you meant it, but for now, you just wanted to put the drama behind you. Jungkook smiled, taking your hands in his, and you gladly let him. "I missed you," he said. "It doesn't feel right not talking to you every day."

You returned a genuine smile. "The feeling is mutual. But if you ever ghost me again, prepare for me to come to the tattoo shop with a vengeance." You playfully squinted your eyes at him.

Jungkook chuckled, nodding his head. "I wouldn't expect anything less." He says. After a moment of silence the brunet’s eyes flicked behind you, catching sight of the new plush toy sitting on top of the table. “Nice plushie,” he smirked, knowing all too well how much you loved anything Hello Kitty related. “Guess you and Mina had a good time at the fair, huh?”

You followed his gaze to the plushie. “Yeah… surprisingly, I did.” You chewed on your bottom lip, your mind suddenly miles away, fixed on the raven.

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to show up today after ditching without a call," Jimin said, a smirk plastered on his face as he stepped out of the kitchen with two glasses of water. "The old man's gonna have a field day." He was joking, but there was truth to it.

You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek. You knew a lecture was coming, along with an endless amount of dish and bathroom duty. Possibly even termination. Mr. Kim hated when staff called in, but he especially loathed it when they didn’t.

"I’m nervous as it is," you said. "Did Mr. Kim say anything to you about me?"

"To me? No," Jimin replied, setting the glasses down at the table he was waiting on. "But you know how he is about punctuality. No exceptions."

You rubbed the nape of your neck and slowly shuffled toward the back of the kitchen to meet your doom.

“Good luck!” Jimin teased.

God, what would you do if you lost your job at Makoto? The job market was brutal right now, and finding new employment wouldn’t be easy. You were terrified of the domino effect that would follow.

Mr. Kim noticed you immediately upon entering the kitchen, but to your surprise, he only nodded in your direction. "Good evening, y/n. Glad to see you came in today," he said calmly before dusting his hands on his apron. “Hurry up and clock in, Jimin could use some assistance out there.”

Your eyebrows scrunched. ‘That’s it? No yelling? No speech? What's his angle?’ you wondered hesitantly.

“O-oh, uh… of course…” you stammered. You grabbed your time card and swiped it through the clock. You glanced back at Mr. Kim, who handled the orders just as he did on any other day. But today shouldn’t have been like ‘any other day’. It should have been a day of reckoning for ditching work yesterday, yet Mr. Kim didn’t even seem to care. You decided that you would just rip the bandage off and bring it up yourself.

"Hey, Mr. Kim, about not calling in yesterday…" you started, but the old man instantly cut you off.

"Don't worry about it, kid! It happens." He said, quickly dismissing the conversation.

You stood stunned. This was certainly unlike your boss. Mr. Kim could be kind when he wanted to be, but when it came to work, he was a stickler for the rules. As Jimin had said, there were no exceptions.

You wondered what could have made him so nonchalant about a no-call, no-show, until suddenly, Yoongi's voice flashed through your mind.

"Don't stress about that, princess. I'II deal with your boss after the fact."

Could it be that Yoongi had actually followed through? It was the only explanation for Mr. Kim's uncharacteristic behavior. Even though the raven had said he’d handle it, you hadn’t honestly believed him. You didn’t think Yoongi could actually hold that kind of power over someone as headstrong as Mr. Kim. It left you wondering what else, exactly, that man could control.

Nevertheless, you smiled slightly to yourself, knowing he had used that power to keep your job intact. You grabbed an apron from the hook, along with a notepad and pen, preparing to head out to the floor. Just then, Jimin walked in, his expression uneasy. “What’s your problem?” You ask him, an eyebrow perched.

"T-table three wants you to take their order instead of me," the brunet said.

You didn't even need to question why; his unease told you exactly who was sitting at table three. You nodded, tying your apron around your waist. Jimin exchanged a look with Mr. Kim behind you before you headed out to the dining floor. To your lack of surprise, there sat Yoongi and Joon across from each other. You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue, a small smile trying to peek through.

"There's my favorite waitress," the raven smiled as you approached. His left arm rested casually on the back of his chair.

You squinted at him, folding your arms across your chest. "Looks like someone’s too anxious to wait until tonight," you stated.

Yoongi shrugged. “What can I say? You make me feel like I’ve got a school crush. I want to see you whenever I can.” He smirked, biting down on his bottom lip.

You rolled your eyes, but inside, butterflies were already beginning to flutter. “Are you two here to order, or are you just here to cause trouble?” you asked, quickly changing the subject. You didn’t want to look like you actually enjoyed Yoongi’s presence, not with Jimin lurking nearby. He had a big mouth, and before you knew it, Jungkook and Mina would find out that there was something unspoken forming between you and Yoongi.

“I don’t know about the boss man here, but I could go for some Jjajangmyeon and a cool bottle of soju. Don’t bring me any of that warm shit,” Joon said.

You eyed the lanky man. “We don’t serve alcohol here,” you stated dryly.

“Well, that’s a fucking buzzkill. What do y’all serve here?”

“You can try looking at the menu in front of you.” You snarked. You couldn’t help the smart remarks when it came to Joon. He simply rubbed you the wrong way, Yoongi’s right-hand man or not. You didn’t like him.

Joon smirked, your snarkiness having no bearing on him. “Someone’s testy today. This isn’t very good customer service,” he joked, though he picked up the menu nonetheless. He scanned through the drink section before closing it. “I’ll take a cola,” he said.

You wrote down his order, then turned to Yoongi, who seemingly hadn’t taken his eyes off you the entire time. “And you?”you questioned the raven.

“I’ll take some water, sweetheart.” The raven said.

You nodded, not needing to write it down. As you collected their menus from the table, you hesitated. “Hey, um…” you started, keeping your voice low. “Thanks for actually talking to my boss. You seriously saved me from getting fired.”

Yoongi tilted his head slightly. “You said ‘actually’ as though you had no faith in my word. You didn’t think I’d talk to your boss?” he questioned.

“You want me to be honest?”

“That’s all I ever want you to be with me, sweetheart.”

“Okay then,” you nodded, keeping your voice hushed so you wouldn't be overheard. “No. I didn’t think you’d talk to my boss. I thought it was just a little lie you told to get me to come with you yesterday.”

The raven smirked at your doubt. “One thing you need to learn about me, princess, is that my word is bond. When I say I’m gonna do something, I do it.” He held his smirk, but there was something beneath it now, something entirely serious. Dangerous, even.

And you liked it. Shamefully.

"Noted," you said, your gaze locked with his dark, intense eyes. Before the moment could stretch any further, the bell above the front door chimed, snapping you back to reality. "'I’ll be right with you-" The customer service voice died in your throat. You froze as you turned around, coming face to face with a familiar brunet.

"J-Jungkook?" You stuttered. “What’re you doing here?”

Jungkook's smile vanished as he looked past you, spotting Yoongi sitting there. He squinted, a hard edge replacing his previously soft expression. "I'm on my break... thought I'd come in to see you." His eyes remained glued to the raven. "What the hell is he doing here?"

You looked back at Yoongi, his eyes dark and intimidating as they always were, his glare on Jungkook vicious. "They're, uh... ordering food," you said. You could feel people in the restaurant starting to stare, Jimin included.

"I think they need to order food somewhere else," Jungkook spat, his gaze hardening on Yoongi.

"Is that right?" The raven finally spoke, his voice dangerously monotone.

"You trying to start somethin', chief?" Joon chimed in, shifting in his seat, fully prepared to back Yoongi. “Because we don’t have a problem sending you out on a stretcher.”

You shivered at those words. Knowing there was no way this situation would end well for Jungkook, you quickly stepped in. Grabbing the bushy haired man by the arm, you pushed him away from their table and steered him toward an empty one across the restaurant."Are you trying to get yourself jumped?" you asked, keeping your voice low as you questioned the brunet.

Jungkook scoffed. "I'm not scared of those pussies like everyone else. Especially when it comes to you." He finally pulled his gaze away from their table and onto you. "You okay? Is he still harassing you?" he asked.

You sighed. You understood Jungkook's frustration with seeing Yoongi. After everything you had told him about your first encounter with the raven, plus his murdered friend having some type of connection to him, you could imagine why he was so bold.

"They're really just here to eat, and no matter how much disdain I have for someone, I still have to act on a professional level while at work. I don't think fighting helps my case."

The brunet ran his fingers through his hair, sighing deeply. "You're right. I'm sorry," he apologized, his hand reaching out to gently rub your arm.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Just sit down and order something. You came here for me, right?" You smiled, hoping that would bring his mood back up. The brunet grinned back, unable to stay angry when you were in his presence. "Right," he agreed, taking a seat at the table you had escorted him to."My focus is on you, beautiful." He placed a hand on your hip.

You could feel the cold stare burning into your back, the raven glaring daggers in your direction.You didn't bother to look back as you kept your attention on Jungkook.

"Hey, waitress," Yoongi's voice suddenly chimed behind you. You turned around. "Is this how your boss runs his establishment? How about instead of fucking around with your little boyfriend, you get us our orders?" There was venom in his voice when he spat the word “boyfriend”. Of course, no one could spot it except you– and maybe Joon. You scowled at the raven for calling you out so loudly.

"Hey," Jimin whispered, quickly walking up to Jungkook's table. He nudged your shoulder. "You take care of their orders, and I'll take Jungkook's. I don't wanna know what those guys will do if they have to wait any longer."

You complied, not wanting to take that chance and find out either. Leaving Jimin to handle Jungkook, you headed back into the kitchen and ripped the order from your notepad to hook it onto the ticket line. "The hell is going on out there?" Mr. Kim asked, frowning.

"Nothing anymore. Jimin and I have it under control," you assured him as you grabbed two cups from the dish shelf. Moving toward the beverage station, you filled both cups with ice before pouring their respective drinks. You marched back out to the dining room and set the cups down on Yoongi's table. "Satisfied?" you asked the raven.

"Not nearly," he grimaced. "What would satisfy me right now would leave you devastated, sweetheart." His voice was calm, but his words were dark. You chose not to push, truly not wanting to know what he meant by that. "Your food should be out shortly," you said to Joon, deliberately avoiding the raven’s eyes.

You turned around, leaving Yoongi and Joon alone at their table. Spotting Jungkook waving you over, you walked up to the grinning brunet with a playful sigh. “Yes, trouble?” you asked. He rolled his eyes at the newfound nickname. “I was thinking… How about a movie night tonight? I think we’re overdue for one.” he suggested. You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “You mean a repeat of last time? Because unless my memory is failing me, that was an absolute disaster.”

"Yeah, well, this time will be different. After our talk last night, I'm hoping we both have a better understanding of our feelings," he said, taking your hand in his. You tilted your head, biting the inside of your cheek. Even if you did want to give in to his movie night plan, you couldn't. You already had plans with a certain black haired man tonight.

"You know, I'd love to, but I already made plans with Mina tonight,” you lied, offering a convincing smile. "She wants us to have a whole girls' night in. Makeup, nails, talking about our relationships. The whole works."

Jungkook pouted. "First the fair, now a girls' night? I'm beginning to think Mina is stealing my girl." He joked.

You giggled, rolling your eyes at the brunet. "Don't be so dramatic," you said. "We always have tomorrow night."

“Fine,” Jungkook relented, tossing a look of fake defeat your way. “I didn't wanna watch your cheesy movies tonight anyway.”

You gasped, slapping a hand over your heart as if deeply offended. “You love my cheesy movies.”

"No, I love you. There's a difference," Jungkook said.

The words hung heavily in the air between you, and you instantly froze. The words echoed in your mind, catching you entirely off guard. Jungkook had never confessed his feelings so plainly before. You had a lifetime of history together as best friends, but hearing him say those words out loud changed everything in an instant. You stared at him, speechless. Realizing exactly what he had just admitted, Jungkook's eyes widened, and a dark blush rapidly overtook his face.

"S-so tomorrow night?" he stammered, his voice cracking slightly as he scratched the nape of his neck in pure embarrassment.

"Uh-yeah... yeah... see you tomorrow night," you stuttered, your voice trailing off.

You had absolutely no idea how to respond, and your only saving grace was a nearby customer waving you over to request their bill. Seizing the lifeline, you quickly retreated to their table and left Jungkook alone with his thoughts. The moment your back was turned, the brunet squeezed his eyes shut, burying his face in his hands as he cussed quietly to himself.

You grabbed the customer's card from the table and turned to go swipe it at the kiosk, but before you could move any further, you noticed Yoongi and Joon preparing to leave. You furrowed your brows; Joon's food hadn't even been served yet. "Um... hello? Did you forget you ordered food?" you questioned the lanky man as they walked past you.

Yoongi didn't say a word, his expression unreadable as he moved toward the exit.

"I think I'll pass on the ramen, Wonder Woman. The atmosphere in this joint kinda makes me sick," Joon said.

You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue as you watched them head for the door, but they didn't leave without throwing one last vicious glare at Jungkook. Jungkook, of course, glared right back.

"See ya around, chief," Joon scowled in his direction before they finally walked out into the street.

You hadn’t received a single text from Yoongi by the time your shift ended. You had been entirely certain the raven would be eagerly waiting the exact second you clocked out, but an hour had already passed since you’d been off. Trying to shake the growing unease, you showered and slipped into a cute little floral dress. It was a stark contrast to the workout outfit you had worn to that first so called “kickback”.

You sighed, staring down at your blank phone screen. Still, there was no call, no text. What was his issue? One minute he’s telling you how he wants to see you whenever he can, and now he was acting like he couldn't care less about the plans he had made. He couldn't possibly be upset about Jungkook, could he? How childish if he was.

A soft knock suddenly sounded at your front door.

‘Finally,’ you thought, a wave of relief washing over you. ‘Took him long enough.’

You walked into the living room and peeked through the peephole. You were fully expecting to see a familiar mess of long, dark hair, but instead, your neighbor, Hoseok, stood on the other side. You hadn't seen much of him since you found out about his history with Yoongi. Pushing down your surprise, you opened the door and greeted him. "Hoseok, hey," you smiled.

Hoseok returned the small smile, but his expression remained entirely serious. "Hey, y/n. Do you mind if I come in?" He asks. You hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward your bedroom where your phone sat in total silence, almost as if Yoongi might choose this exact second to call you."It won't take too long," Hoseok assured you, his voice gentle but firm, as if he had read your mind completely.

You nodded, opening the door wider for him to enter your apartment before closing it behind him. Hoseok stood there in the entryway, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. You had never seen him look so serious; it was actually a little scary. Whenever you ran into him around the building, Hoseok always had a bright smile on his face. Seeing Yoongi that night really seemed to have shattered his entire personality.

“So, how do you know Yoongi?" Hoseok asked abruptly.

"Uh.." You recounted the moment you had first met the raven, remembering how close you had been to stabbing Joon with a pair of chopsticks until Yoongi intervened. "I met him at my job not long ago." You rubbed your arm awkwardly, completely refusing to go into full detail.

"Do you owe him money or something? Are you safe? Is he forcing you to sleep with him?"

He was completely overwhelming you with the sudden barrage of questions. You shook your head quickly, cutting him off before he could say anything else. "Hoseok, no. I don't owe him money, and I'm fine. Yoongi and I are acquaintances, just like I told you last time. That's all."

He furrowed his eyebrows deeply. "That's all? Y/n, you're a sweet girl. I've lived across the hall from you long enough to know that. Why would you ever get into the mix with the likes of him? Do you know who he is? What he does? What he's done to people? Yoongi is dangerous."

"And you know that firsthand, don't you?" you snapped.

Hoseok froze.

"Yeah, I know you used to work for Yoongi. He told me," you continued, crossing your arms. "I also know you two were friends."

Hoseok clenched his jaw, the silence stretching tight between you. "Yeah, we were. Me, Yoongi, and Joon. We grew up together, started this shit together. But Yoongi got dark. Got money hungry. Wanted to be something more powerful. Now he's a monster... maybe he'd always been a monster deep down." Hoseok's voice trailed off, his eyes clouding over as his mind reminisced about a past he had tried so hard to leave behind. About the friend he once had.

"You said you grew up with Joon too," you countered. "He's shown me he's more of a monster than Yoongi, yet you hold more disdain for Yoongi. Why?" When you had first met Joon, he was ready to attack an old couple just for a restaurant table, and then he had turned on you for standing up to him.

Hoseok scoffed. "Because I expected this from Joon. Maybe not to this extent, but Joon was always troubled. He only started hanging out with us after Yoongi met him in juvie. And Yoongi didn't truly start getting into trouble until his parents died. He was a little shit back then, sure, but definitely not the cold hearted monster he is now."

You remembered the raven mentioning his parents to you. How they had died in a house fire after his drunk of a father left a stove burning.

You sighed. None of this truly answered why Hoseok was so fearful of Yoongi now. They had started their empire together, so Hoseok clearly hadn't had any qualms about the lifestyle back then. Why the sudden change? Curiosity burned in your chest, and you opened your mouth to ask, but before you could, your phone started to ring from the other room.

You rushed to your bedroom, snatching the device off the bed. It was Yoongi. "Is that him?" Hoseok called out from the living room. Ignoring his question, you swiped the screen and brought the phone to your ear. "Hello?"

"I'm outside. Come down, and don't take too long," the raven demanded, his tone clipped. He hung up before you could even draw a breath to reply. You clicked your tongue in annoyance, pulling the phone away from your ear. "Listen, Hoseok, I can't sit here and talk about this right now. I have to go," you said, grabbing your purse off the nightstand.

"That was him, wasn't it?" he asked again, stepping toward your bedroom doorway. You offered no answer. "Look, I know I'm just your neighbor, and I can't tell you what to do, but I don't think you should keep hanging around him."

You shook your head, completely unready to process his warnings right now, but he remained persistent.

"Why do you care so much about what I do?" you retorted, eyeing the brunet. "Why do you care if I hang out with Yoongi?"

"Because you remind me of her."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Of her? Who's her?" Hoseok's eyes began to water, a raw pain breaking through his serious facade. "The only woman I've ever loved. She's gone... because of him. He took her just to get back at me, and he got away with it."

"What? What do you mean?"

Before Hoseok could answer, your phone buzzed violently in your hand. It was a text from Yoongi, undoubtedly urging you to hurry the hell up. "I have to go." You muttered, deliberately putting the terrifying conversation aside. You walked out to the entryway and opened your apartment door, gesturing for Hoseok to leave first.

He exited into the dimly lit corridor, but he didn't head toward his own apartment. Instead, he stood out in the hallway, his sorrowful eyes heavy upon you as you locked your door. He stared at you like this was going to be his last time seeing you. “Later, Hoseok.” You say, quickly disappearing down your hall.

The cool outside breeze brushed against your bare skin the moment you stepped out of the building. You immediately recognized Yoongi's old car parked at the curb instead of the sleek red one you two had ridden to the fair in. Walking around the hood, you opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat.

"Took you long enough," the raven grumbled, not even looking at you as he shifted into drive. "I don't have the patience to be kept waiting."

You grimaced at his sour attitude. The absolute nerve of him to complain about a few minutes when he had just kept you waiting for a full hour. You pulled your seatbelt across your chest and buckled it in, and the car instantly surged forward into the night. Silently, you side eyed him, taking in his outfit. He wore a simple black hoodie with dark jeans, a chain clipped to his belt loops. He was a man who clearly adored his silver; another chain hung around his neck, and a couple of silver rings on his fingers. His long, dark hair was artfully messy, framing his face.

You had been expecting the raven to compliment your dress, as he usually never missed an opportunity to praise your appearance, but he stayed entirely silent, keeping his eyes glued to the dark road. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. It was weird not hearing Yoongi speak to you. Usually, you were the one giving him the silent treatment. Clearly, he was in a mood, so you opted against mentioning a single word of what Hoseok had just told you. Though curiosity was burning a hole in your chest, you didn’t want to piss him off any further.

Still, you decided to break the silence anyway, completely detesting the suffocating quiet inside the car. “What were you up to that took you so long?” you asked.

He looked over at you, a single sharp eyebrow raised, before turning right back toward the road without offering a word.

“Okay, don’t tell me then,” you huffed. You crossed your arms, turning your back to him to stare out the passenger window. Usually, the raven would have finally broken down and said something sarcastic by now, but instead, he simply reached forward and flicked on the radio.

You whipped your head around in total shock.

“Okay,” you started, your hand immediately darting out to slap the radio knob off. “What's your deal right now? You invited me to this stupid kickback, but now you’re acting like you wish I weren’t even here. I blew off a movie night with Jungkook to come out for you, but if you’re gonna be an asshole, then just take me home.”

Yoongi finally looked over at you, his sharp gaze cutting through the dim light of the car. “You blew off your little boyfriend to be with me?”

You nodded, suddenly finding your fingernails incredibly interesting. "I mean, you asked me first. I didn't want to blow you off after saying I'd come."

Yoongi smirked slightly, nodding his head as he looked back at the road. It was as if your words were a sort of confirmation for him. Suddenly, the atmosphere inside the car didn't feel so suffocating anymore. "You look good in that dress." The raven said.

You bit your bottom lip, turning away slightly in a desperate attempt to hide your smile.

The car pulled up to the warehouse that you'd come to know so well since getting involved with Yoongi. You noticed that, unlike last time, there weren't any people hanging out outside. No girls dressed in little to no clothing. No one smoking by the entrance. It was noticeably different from the last time.

"Am I gonna go upstairs and see a bunch of people in there?" you asked the raven, peeking out the window.

He snickered, turning off the ignition. "It's just Joon, some of my guys, and whatever bitches they brought. Just like I told you yesterday. Don't worry, sweetheart. I wouldn’t steer you wrong.” He assures you, leaning back in his seat.

"I wish you wouldn't call women 'bitches," you said, a look of dismay crossing your features.

"My apologies, princess. I'll rephrase that; whatever whores they brought." The raven smirked, leaning across the console to catch your eye. "That better for you?"

You rolled your eyes, pushing your door open to climb out into the cool night air. Yoongi follows suit. The two of you walk up the stairs to the metal door, your mind flashing to when Yoongi had pushed you against it to give you a speech about how you speak to him. He pulls open the door, letting you walk ahead. You hear laughter and music as you walk up the stairs, and the smell of weed wafts your senses. As you reach the main room, you’re amazed by how much different it looks without the load of people blocking every which way.

"Wonder Woman, you came through again!" Joon shouted, raising a solo cup high in his hand.

He was sitting amongst the two guys you recognized from last time, along with two others you hadn't seen before. Each of them had a girl sitting either on their lap or squeezed next to them on the couch. You noticed Sana sitting among the group, though she didn't appear to be there with any specific guy. Her sharp eyes locked onto you the exact moment you walked in with Yoongi.

‘Oh great, she's here…’ you thought dreadfully. This was going to be an absolute blast.

Yoongi walked toward an empty space on the couch, dropping down and patting the cushion right next to him. You sat down beside him, deliberately avoiding Sana's gaze as she continued to stare you down. "Here, have a sip." Joon passed you his cup.

You took it, looking down at the clear alcoholic beverage sloshing inside. "What's this?" you asked him.

"It's tequila."

"Yeah, your favorite. Remember?" Sana asked from across the room, her voice dripping with mock sweetness as she clearly referenced the night you had gotten drunk and danced right here in this very room.

You eyed the bitter woman, refusing to let her get under your skin. Without a word, you tipped your head back and downed the drink. The harsh liquor burned the back of your throat as it went down, but you didn't let your expression falter.

Joon hooted loudly, cheering your compliance as you handed him back the empty cup. "Oh, Y/n, you're my kind of woman, doll," Joon laughed.

"Yeah, she surely is somethin", the raven said, resting his arm along the back of the couch behind you. You noticed them passing a blunt around the circle. Once Joon took a couple of hits, he offered it directly to you. You shook your head quickly, gesturing for him to pass it to Yoongi instead.

"Oh, c’mon, it's just weed," Joon insisted, still holding it out. “It ain’t gonna kill you.”

"That's fine. I've just never smoked it before," you said awkwardly, suddenly feeling like a complete amateur sitting in a room full of seasoned drug dealers and users.

"Of course you haven't. You're too much of a goody-goody," Sana remarked. The other girls cracked up, making a sudden wave of heat creep up your neck.

"Nothing wrong with being a good girl. A lot of us men admire that," Yoongi smirked, stepping in as he took the blunt from Joon's fingers. "Leaves room for corruption."

"I'm just scared of how it'll make me feel, that’s all." You admitted softly.

"It's like alcohol, but a different type of intoxication. Here, I'll help you." The raven shifted his weight, leaning in close as he took a long drag. Holding the smoke trapped in his lungs, he gestured with his free hand for you to move closer. You hesitated for a heartbeat, your breath catching, before leaning forward slowly. Yoongi stopped when he was mere inches away from your face, his dark gaze locking onto your mouth before he began to exhale the smoke, breathing it out little by little. Though you were skeptical, you leaned in the final inch, inhaling the gray smoke as it retreated past his lips.

A harsh cough ripped from your throat the second the smoke hit the back of your sensitive lungs. Yoongi moved back just a fraction, a lazy, satisfied grin spreading across his face as he took in your reaction. "See?" he smirked, his voice dropping an octave. "Corrupting you already."

You stared at the raven, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth. The two of you locked eyes, completely forgetting that there was an entire group of people watching your every move.

"Alright, alright, get a room already," Joon teased, breaking the spell you were in.

Yoongi kept his eyes firmly on you, entirely unfazed by the audience. "I wouldn't mind getting a room," he said, slowly running his tongue over his bottom lip. You swallowed the lump in your throat, suddenly feeling the raven's free hand begin to roam up your exposed thigh.

You quickly stood to your feet, breaking the contact before he could go any further. "Um, I think I could use another drink. I'm assuming the bottle is in the kitchen?" you asked, pointing toward the doorway and letting out an awkward, nervous laugh.

Yoongi simply nodded, his grin turning cocky at your sudden fluster, clearly overjoyed at being the sole cause of it. You quickly shuffled away and escaped into the kitchen, feeling the anxious tightness in your chest finally begin to disperse the moment you were separated from the heavy atmosphere of the group.

Once your heartbeat finally settled, you grabbed an empty solo cup from the counter. Your eyes scanned the kitchen, landing on a bottle of Don Julio. You grabbed it, pulling the cork out with a sharp pop.

"You and Yoongi look super cozy together." The sudden voice startled you. You turned around to see Sana standing in the entryway, her arms crossed tight over her chest.

"So?" you said, turning your back to her again to pour the tequila into your cup.

"So, I thought you were very adamant about not being into him. Remember?"

You whipped back around to face her. "I'm not," you snapped, your tone sharp. "He just invited me, so I came. That's it."

It was a bold faced lie; anyone in that room could feel the electric tension between you and the raven. You tried your best to hide it, but then he went and pulled stunts like he just did on the couch, and all your defenses came crashing down. You were attracted to Yoongi. That was a fact you could no longer deny to yourself. But deep down, you knew nothing could ever come of it. You were with Jungkook.

You just hated that you had to keep reminding yourself of that.

“You can say whatever you want, convince yourself of whatever you need, but you can’t convince me,” Sana snarled, her voice dropping to a harsh, mocking tone. “I mean, I don’t blame you. He’s Min Yoongi. Out of all those guys sitting out there, he has a presence that no woman can resist. Clearly not even you, Miss Goody-Goody. I honestly can’t wait to say I told you so.”

With one last judgmental look, she turned on her heel and swept out of the entryway, leaving you completely alone in the quiet kitchen. You quickly downed the burning liquid in your cup, letting it sear your throat as you emptied every last drop before immediately pouring yourself another one. Just as the liquor splashed into the bottom of the solo cup, you heard heavy footsteps approaching from behind. You turned slightly, watching the raven slide effortlessly into the kitchen.

"Slow down there, lightweight," he teased, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he took in the sight of the bottle in your hand. "I don't need you blacking out here."

You glared at him, throwing back the second drink before slamming the cup down onto the counter. "I'm ready to leave."

"What?" The raven raised an eyebrow, his lazy grin instantly vanishing. "We just got here," he stated, pointing out the obvious.

"Yeah, well, I'm not feeling quite like a people person tonight," you muttered, your mind in a million different places. First, there was Jungkook saying he loved you. Then, Hoseok's chilling warning. And now Sana with her crazy jealousy, clearly nowhere near over her past with Yoongi. It was all too much. You’d rather just have been alone to process everything, but Yoongi remained persistent about you staying.

“You don’t have to be. It won’t be too long before the guys dip out to get their nut off,” the raven said, his slow grin returning. He stepped a fraction closer to you, tilting his head to catch your eyes. “Then it’ll just be me and you… unless I’m included in your desire to not be around people right now?”

Naturally, you didn’t mind being around just Yoongi. He was the sole reason you had even come in the first place. But there was always a stubborn moral compass ringing inside your head, reminding you that any feelings you harbored toward the raven were wrong; a complete betrayal not only to Jungkook, but to Mina, too.

Yoongi literally sold coke to Mina's boyfriend, ruthlessly using him as one of his drug mules. Not to mention the terrifying reality that Yoongi had probably killed people, whether indirectly or by his own hands. Though, you weren't entirely sure how true that part actually was. A drug dealer? That fact was completely undeniable. But a killer? Could Yoongi truly be capable of murder? The man you had seen at the fair, the one who had looked at you with soft eyes, and shared a deep moment with you, couldn't possibly be a monster.

“Well, what about Sana?” you asked suddenly.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes narrowing slightly at the random mention of Sana. “What the fuck about her?”

"She's here. Why don't you just have her keep you company?" you scowled, turning back around to pour another drink. But before you could even pop the cork out, Yoongi snatched the bottle completely out of your hand. He didn't say a word at first, his eyes locking onto yours as he deliberately set the bottle down on the counter behind him, clearing the distraction out of the way.

“Is that where this little attitude is coming from? Sana? I thought I told you I only fucked her once.”

"I don't care how many times you did. It's none of my business," you lied, keeping your voice tight as you tried to save face. "I just thought I'd make it clear that you have other options and don't need me here."

The raven stared at you for a moment.

"When are you gonna stop pretending there's nothing here and just give in to me?" Yoongi asked, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous murmur as he took another step toward you. You instinctively tried to back away from him, but the hard edge of the counter pressed against your lower back, leaving you with absolutely no space left to move.

"B-because there isn't.." you stuttered, the denial tasting like ash on your tongue.

Yoongi closed the remaining distance between you two, his hands coming down to rest on the counter on either side of your hips. You were completely sandwiched between the raven and the cold marble surface. Your heart thumped frantically against your ribs as he began to lean down toward your lips, his gaze dropping to your mouth. "There isn't?" he questioned, his breath fanning across your skin.

"Yo, Honcho–" Joon’s voice cut through the air as he popped his head through the entryway of the kitchen. He froze for a fraction of a second, taking in the sight of the two of you trapped in each other's space, before the corner of his lips pulled into a knowing smirk. “I always seem to pop in on you two at the craziest times,” he teased.

"What is it, Joon?" Yoongi's voice was rough, dripping with irritation at his second in command as he turned his head slightly to look at him, though his hands never left the counter, keeping you securely pinned.

"Me and the guys are gonna dip and handle our due diligence," Joon said, flashing a quick wink. It didn't take a scientist to figure out what he meant. It was exactly what Yoongi had predicted just minutes ago; they were heading out to get their nut off.

Yoongi nodded, but his full, dark attention immediately snapped back to you. "Is Sana still here?" he asked Joon, his eyes tracking the way your chest rose and fell.

"Yeah, she is. Why, what's up?"

"Send the bitch on her way," Yoongi said coldly.

"Say less," Joon complied, stepping backward out of the kitchen and leaving you and the raven completely alone once again.

You could hear his retreating footsteps heading back to the living room, followed shortly by the distant, muffled sound of him telling Sana it was time to go. "There. Problem solved, sweetheart," Yoongi said, finally taking a single step back from you, though his dark gaze never wavered. The raven reached over and grabbed the bottle of Don Julio, shaking it slightly in the air as a lazy smirk crept back onto his face. "Now it's just you and me. So, how about we drink and have a kickback of our own?"

"Then I tried to hop over the fence and my shirt got caught," Yoongi smirked, tucking a stray strand of his dark hair behind his ear as he recounted the first time he went to juvie.

The two of you were easily ten shots in by now, having moved the bottle from the kitchen to the living room couch. You were completely enveloped in a rare state of security. You sat comfortably against the cushions with your shoes discarded on the floor, your legs curled up tightly under you. Yoongi sat close beside you, leaning forward over his knees as he flicked a lighter to life, igniting another blunt.

You giggled at the raven's story, shaking your head. "Why didn't you just try to slip the shirt off?" you asked him.

"I was running for like thirty minutes trying to get away. At that point, I was too tired. I just said fuck it, take me," he chuckled. He shoved the lighter back into his sweatshirt pocket before taking a few deep puffs of the blunt, the tip glowing a dull orange in the dim room. "Anyway, shit happens for a reason. I wouldn't have met Joon if I didn't get caught that day."

Hearing him say it out loud made a piece of the puzzle click. You silently recalled Hoseok mentioning earlier that night that Yoongi and Joon had first crossed paths in juvie. You wanted to bring up Hoseok's crazy ramblings to Yoongi, but you decided it was best not to. Not now, at least. Not when the vibe between you was so perfectly calm and natural.

Yoongi looked over at you, extending his hand with the blunt pinched tightly between his index finger and thumb. "You wanna hit this?" he asked. You looked down at the brown wrap. You hesitated for a split second, but ultimately took the blunt from his fingers, your skin brushing against his.

Putting it to your lips, you took a few light, careful puffs, still too afraid to take massive hits the way Yoongi did. The raven smiled, his dark eyes watching you intensely, as if he expected you to choke if he wasn't being vigilant. "Thatta girl, princess. Shotgunned off of me once and now I got you smoking like a pro," he said proudly, his voice low and laced with satisfaction. You exhaled the smoke, then handed the blunt back to the raven.

"Don't get used to me doing that. I'm just enjoying the moment," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Yoongi shrugged, taking another slow hit from the blunt. "I'm proud either way, angel," he said.

You stiffened slightly at the nickname. You had never heard Yoongi call you that before. It was a term of endearment that belonged entirely to Jungkook. He used it all the time. Suddenly, your mind was flooded with the memory of Jungkook slipping up and saying he loved you at work earlier today, and a crushing wave of guilt washed over your chest. Here you were, hiding away and getting high with Yoongi, while Jungkook mindlessly believed you were just hanging out with Mina right now.

Yoongi's sharp eyes immediately noticed the shift, catching the exact moment you zoned out and went miles away. "You good?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly as he studied your face. You debated on whether or not you should tell him what Jungkook had said today. Would he even care?

"Um... Jungkook said he loved me today." You looked over at the raven, your eyes searching his face to read his expression.

Yoongi ran his fingers through his dark hair, nodding his head slowly as if absorbing the news without letting it shake him. "And then what?" he asked, his voice steady as he waited for you to continue further.

"And then... nothing," you shrugged, the weight of the confession making your shoulders feel heavy. "I said nothing when he said it. I feel so horrible." You sighed, rubbing your hands over your face to shield yourself from the quiet of the room. You cared about Jungkook deeply; you had been best friends for years, and you had harbored feelings for him long before the two of you finally decided to date and test the waters. But these past few days, everything has felt entirely off between you two.

You felt... bored.

"You don't love him," Yoongi stated, his voice flat and certain, as if he personally knew your own feelings and heart better than you did.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, your chest tightening defensively. "What?"

"You don't love him," he casually repeated. He reached over to grab an empty Solo cup from the coffee table, dropping the butt of the blunt inside.

"And how the hell would you know how I feel?" you shot back, trying to summon enough anger to mask the panic rising in your throat.

"Because you're here with me," Yoongi said, leaning back against the cushions and pinning you with an intense look. "You turned down a movie night with him to spend time with me. That alone should tell you something."

You opened your mouth to defend your actions, but the words died in your throat. You couldn't. You were here with Yoongi, and the bitter, undeniable truth was that you didn't regret the decision at all.

You were genuinely enjoying these casual conversations with him. Ever since the Daegu fair, the raven had become entirely humanized in your eyes. Even though he sold drugs and carried a dangerous, mean streak to his name, you liked him.

You liked Yoongi.

The silence in the living room stretched between you, heavy and thick with the smell of smoke, as his words settled deep into your chest. Yoongi just tracked the movement of your lips, waiting, knowing he had trapped you in a corner where lies couldn't save you. So you didn’t attempt it.

You casually looked around, admiring the decor of the warehouse and searching for absolutely anything to change the suffocating topic. Your eyes landed on an all black acoustic guitar hanging neatly on the wall right next to the loft stairs. "That's a cool guitar," you said, motioning toward it.

Yoongi pulled his gaze away from you, tracking your movement until his eyes landed on the instrument. "That's my baby right there. My mom bought it for me when I was twelve," he said, a genuine, soft smile tugging at his lips at the memory of his mother.

"You play?" you questioned, a little surprised. "I thought it was just for decoration."

"Don't insult me, sweetheart. I don't do things just for the look," he rumbled playfully. He stood up from the cushions, walking over to retrieve the guitar from its mount before coming back to sit down on the couch right beside you. Yoongi began to tune the guitar, his long fingers adjusting the pegs with practiced ease. You were completely surprised he could even function with all the alcohol and weed running through his system, but the substances didn't seem to phase him even a little bit.

The raven strummed the strings to see if the tune was to his liking, the chords ringing out deep and crisp into the high ceilings of the warehouse. Then, his fingers shifted, and he began to play.

You watched him intently. He looked completely relaxed, his dark eyes focused on the fretboard as he plucked out an all too familiar melody—one that immediately made your chest tighten and your heart feel incredibly massive.

Knocking on Heaven's Door by Bob Dylan.

That was your dad's favorite song.

You hadn't heard the song in so long, having avoided it at all costs ever since your parents died. Yet, here Yoongi was playing it, handling the notes as though he could read your heart like an open book. The raven looked up at you, his fingers never missing a single strum despite his eyes locking onto yours. You felt a single tear escape and slip down your cheek. A quiet movement that didn't go unnoticed by him.

Yoongi immediately stopped playing, flattening his palm over the strings to kill the vibration. "You okay? I didn't mean to make you emotional," he murmured, his voice dropping into something genuinely gentle.

You shook your head, sniffing softly as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. "No, you're fine. It's just... that song you played. It reminded me of my dad, that's all. That was his favorite song," you informed him, your voice cracking slightly on the words.

A wave of sympathy softened his sharp features. He carefully set the black guitar down onto the floor, completely discarding it to move closer to you on the cushions. Reaching out, the raven gently brushed the pad of his thumb against your cheek, wiping away the stray tear. “You’re too pretty to cry,” he whispered, his thumb lingering against your skin.

Min Yoongi.

When you first met him, those eyes made you shiver. They were scary, cold, and lifeless; the devil's eyes.

Now, those exact same eyes were looking at you like you were something so precious, something so breakable that he wanted to protect you from any further damage.

The raven's lips inched closer to yours. You followed suit, your breath hitching as your eyes fluttered closed, waiting to finally feel the soft pressure of his lips against yours. When his lips finally do meet yours, it wasn’t the harsh, reckless collision you might have expected from someone like Yoongi. It was soft, slow, and desperately tender. A quiet reassurance that sent a tingle straight down your spine. The faint taste of tequila and smoke lingered between you, blurring the edges of the room until nothing else existed but the warmth of his mouth against yours.

Yoongi’s hand slid from your cheek, his long fingers gently gripping the back of your neck to hold you steady, deepening the kiss with a low, heavy breath. You melted into him, your hands finding themselves on the soft fabric of his sweatshirt as you pulled yourself closer.

Every ounce of guilt, every lingering warning from Hoseok, and the ghost of Jungkook’s confession from earlier today were entirely washed away in the dark, quiet haze of the warehouse.

You found yourself slowly being pushed backward onto the plush cushions of the couch, the fabric of your dress riding up your thighs as Yoongi settled his body over yours, positioning himself flush between your legs.

Yoongi didn't break the kiss for a single second. Instead, his mouth grew hungrier, more possessive, tracing the seam of your lips as his hands left your neck to slide down to your waist, his grip firm and steady as he anchored you to the cushions beneath him. The contrast of his heavy frame pinning you down while treating you like something entirely precious made your breath hitch against his lips, your fingers tightening into the fabric of his sweatshirt to pull him even closer.

The sudden loss of his warmth made you gasp softly as Yoongi pulled his lips away from yours. He remained settled heavily between your legs, his dark eyes locked onto you as he crossed his arms and pulled his sweatshirt over his head in one fluid motion. The silver chain around his neck clanked in the quiet room before settling against his collarbone.

He tossed the discarded sweatshirt onto the floor, leaving him in just a plain white tee. Yoongi paused for a second, his chest rising and falling with hefty breaths as he used a hand to push his messy dark locks back out of his face. The intense, protective gaze was still burning in his eyes, but now it was laced with an undeniable hunger. Leaning back forward, he closed the distance between you once again, crashing his lips back onto yours with a newfound fervor that completely stole the air from your lungs.

The raven rolled his hips against you, the sudden, friction filled pressure making a soft whimper escape your lips. His large hands held your waist securely to the cushions before he pulled his lips away once more, all the while still grinding slowly against you.

"I promise to be gentle with you if you let me," he whispered, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. His hands slid up your sides, the rough texture of his palms catching against the fabric as he began to lift your dress further. A sudden wave of nerves crashed over you at the thought, making your chest tighten. You wanted him. You desperately wanted this, but the guilt was a massive wall standing right in the way.

You had always assumed you would lose your virginity to Jungkook. It was supposed to be safe, familiar, and organically planned. But Jungkook wasn't here.

Yoongi was.

He was right here, hovering over you with a patient hunger, waiting for the words that would change everything between you two.

"Y-Yoongi, we can't. I'm with Jungko-"

The raven clamped a hand over your mouth, stopping you from finishing his name. "I don't wanna hear his fucking name right now," he growled. His hips were still grinding into you, but his pace picked up, the sudden intensity making your breath hitch beneath his palm.

The consistent, heavy motion made your panties rub against your clit, sending a tingle straight down your spine. Yoongi slowly pulled his hand away from your lips, his dark eyes burning down into yours with an absolute, possessive gravity. "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll stop," he said, his voice a low command.

You didn't offer the raven any words, just a breathless moan that tore from your throat. A sound that was absolute music to his ears. He smirked down at how needy you looked underneath him, his ego flaring at his total control over you. How could you possibly pretend to not want this when you were coming apart already, and he hadn't even been inside of you yet?

"From the looks of it, you're so deprived that all it’Il take right now is dry fucking for you to cum," he rasped, his voice dropping into a dark, filthy purr that made your stomach completely flip. You couldn't deny it; this simple action really could be enough to cause an orgasm, but deep down, you wanted to go the extra mile with him. "Do it," you whined, your hips blindly tracking his movement as you completely lost your grip on your restraint. "J-Just do it."

That was all Yoongi needed to hear. He stopped grinding into you, pulling back to undo his jeans. He didn't take them fully off, opting instead to pull them down just enough for his hard cock to spring free from his Celine boxers. Your eyes widened slightly, and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you took in the full size and length of him. He was much bigger than you had expected him to be; it was no wonder Sana had a hard time getting over him after their one night stand.

The raven hooked his fingers into the hem of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them onto the floor right next to his sweatshirt. Your dress was still bunched up around your waist, leaving you completely exposed beneath him now. You instinctively tried to close your legs to hide yourself, but with his weight still settled right between your thighs, you couldn't move.

The raven smirked down at your failed attempt to hide, his thighs easily pulling yours further apart, refusing to let you close yourself off. But as he looked down, tracking the panicked rise and fall of your chest and the way you squeezed your eyes shut tight, the smug look vanished. Seeing how scared you were dragged him back to reality, reminding him exactly what this was for you.

Your first time.

The thought alone sent a possessive rush in his veins. You weren’t like the other women he had fucked, then passed around to his crew. You were pure. Untouched. Untainted. Your walls had never been broken, and knowing he was the very first to claim you made him want to lose all control, to pin you down and slam his dick straight into you. But he fought the urge back. He was willing to take this slow. He was willing to be gentle, just like he promised.. He wasn't going to force his way in. Not yet.

"Relax for me," he murmured, his voice dropping into a low purr. Bypassing his cock for now, Yoongi reached down, his long fingers finding your slick, dripping heat. He pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit, making you gasp, before he slowly slid a single finger inside of you.

The feeling of his hot skin sliding into you sent an intense, unravelling ache straight to your core. Your inner walls clenched down around him, instantly tight and resistant to the sudden intrusion. Yoongi hissed softly at the brutal friction, the muscle in his jaw feathering as he held himself still. He didn't pull back; instead, he kept his finger buried deep inside you to let your body adapt, while the pad of his thumb began working in small, agonizingly slow circles to coax you open.

A mixture of pain and pleasure flooded your senses. You had never actually inserted anything inside of yourself before, only ever rubbing your clit when you were alone and horny, so this deep, stretching was completely overwhelming. The intensity of the feeling made it impossible to listen to his voice, let alone try to relax.

"Look at me," Yoongi growled, his voice dropping into a rough command as he noticed your breathing hitch. He pressed his thumb a little firmer against your clit, trying to ground you through the sensory overload. "I know it hurts a little, but you need to breathe for me. Let it slip in and out."

Your eyes flutter open upon his command as you try to breathe as told. Slowly, he began to curl his finger inside you, testing your limits and forcing your tight depths to widen for him. The sudden internal hook against your walls completely shattered your concentration, dragging a high, helpless whine from your throat. Your back arched slightly off the couch cushions, your hands clawing blindly into the fabric beside your head as your muscles instinctively clamped down once more around his finger.

Yoongi hissed again through his teeth, his knuckles turning white where his hand rested against the armrest behind your head. The crushing grip of your body around his finger was testing the absolute limits of his control, but he didn't back off. Instead, his gaze darkened with a relentless dominance. "I told you to breathe," he rasped, his voice dropping an octave, rough and completely devoid of room for negotiation.

He leaned more of his weight over you, his lean frame crowding you down and effectively trapping you flat against the cushions. His free hand moved from the armrest to slide up the side of your neck, his thumb bracing firmly under your jaw to tilt your face up. He didn't hurt you, but the grip was ironclad, forcing your eyes right back to his.

With you completely pinned beneath him, the pad of his thumb pressed down hard against your swollen clit, no longer stroking in gentle circles, but applying a heavy, flattening pressure that sent a sudden ache straight through your pelvis. He held it there, demanding your total submission.

"Stop fighting it," he commanded, his eyes burning into yours as he tilted his finger a fraction deeper against your tight walls. "If you can’t take one finger, how’re you supposed to take this dick, huh?” His grip tightens slightly on the side of your neck. “Huh?” he repeated, demanding your answer.

“I-I’m sorry…” you stammered, embarrassment flooding your chest as the weight of his standards settled heavily over you.

Yoongi shook his head at your apology. “Don’t apologize to me, babygirl. Just take it.”

The pet name hits you like a physical shock, melting through the sharp sting of the entrance and sending a completely different kind of heat pooling between your thighs. Hearing him call you that while his frame pinned you to the couch cushions made your heart hammer against your chest. Your fingers twitched against the fabric beside your head, your body instinctively wanting to soften under the sudden warmth of his praise, even as the fullness of his finger remained buried deep inside you, awaiting your compliance.

Your breathing finally began to stutter out in a long, trembling exhale, your chest sinking as you forced yourself to yield to his command. The tense, defensive coil in your hips slowly dissolved into the cushions, allowing the walls of your core to soften and untangle around his finger.

Yoongi watched the change happen in real time, his eyes tracking the exact moment the panic left your expression and your body opened up for him. A low, approving rumble vibrated deep in his chest as the tight friction around his hand gave way to an accommodating heat. "Good girl." he murmured, his voice dropping a quiet praise that made your stomach flutter.

The raven didn't hesitate. Seizing the moment your body relaxed, he slid his thumb out from under your jaw and used his free hand to firmly spread your legs a little wider, anchoring you in place. With a smooth shift of his knuckles, he aligned a second finger against your opening and pushed it straight inside, pairing it alongside the first before immediately driving them deep.

The sudden, thick invasion turned into a heavy, rhythmic thrusting that completely took your breath away. He set a demanding pace right from the start, his wrist moving with practiced precision as his fingers slid all the way in and pulled back just enough to drive right back into your heat. A choked gasp caught in your throat as the friction of two fingers moving deep inside of you stretched your newly softened depths to their absolute limit, the steady, relentless tempo turning the initial ache into an overwhelming fullness.

“Oh fuck–” you cried, your hand mindlessly reaching out to try to grab at his wrist to stop him, but Yoongi smacked it away before you could.

“Don’t touch me,” he growled, the sharp reprimand cutting right through your haze as his fingers kept up their relentless rhythm inside you. Your hand dropped back onto the cushion, your fingers twitching helplessly against the fabric as the pace he was driving into you completely shattered your defenses. Yoongi didn't look down; his dark eyes stayed locked on your face, watching the way your lips parted and your chest heaved with every deep, sliding stroke of his hand.

The slick stretch of two fingers moving in such a demanding, unbothered tempo was turning your embarrassment into a pure, frantic need. He was stretching you out completely, filling you so thoroughly that every push of his wrist sent a hot wave of pressure straight through your hips, forcing you to take every bit of the pace he set.

The relentless, deep pace he was driving into you was rapidly breaking your body down, forcing a thick moisture to coat his skin. Within moments, the fullness of his two fingers began to pump your arousal out, the glossy wetness overflowing your tight opening until it completely drenched his fingers and smeared across the back of his hand.

Yoongi let out a low, gritty sound at the wet squelch of his movements echoing in the quiet room as his knuckles repeatedly pressed against your drenched entrance. The messy, excessive warmth of your own body coating his hand only seemed to make him get rougher, using your own lubrication to drive his fingers even deeper, thoroughly stretching you out until you were dripping against his skin with every single stroke.

The raven’s dark eyes narrowed as he tracked the erratic shudder of your chest, his fingers still ruthlessly working inside you to draw out every drop of your wetness. The sight of you completely undone, trembling on the verge of a breakdown, stripped away the last of his patience.

He abruptly stopped the rhythm, leaving his fingers buried deep and perfectly still inside your swollen depths. The sudden lack of movement was an absolute tease, leaving you stranded on the very edge of a cliff.

He leaned down until his lips brushed the shell of your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he forced his weight heavily over you.“Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he demanded, his voice a deep command that left no room for hesitation. “Say it.”

A high, dire whine broke from your throat at the sudden agonizing stillness, your hips instinctively jerking upward in a silent, pathetic plea for him to keep moving. The tease was unbearable; your body was wound so incredibly tight, practically begging for the release he was intentionally withholding from you.

Yoongi didn't budge an inch. He simply let out a dark, amused huff against your ear, his fingers remained buried like lead inside your dripping pussy. "I didn't ask for a whine," he rasped, his thumb pressing firmly against your jawline to tilt your head back just enough to look at him. "I asked for words. Tell me you want me to fuck you." He repeated the command.

“I–I… I want you fuck me.” You stutter out.

"Good girl," he growled the praise against your ear as he finally withdrew his fingers from your drenched warmth.

The sudden emptiness left you cold for only a second before the weight of his front pressed completely over you, pinning you flat into the couch. He didn't waste another moment. His hand reached down between your bodies, guiding his throbbing cock directly against your swollen opening, smearing your own excess wetness along the head.

He didn't ease into it. With one fluid, commanding thrust of his hips, Yoongi buried himself all the way inside of you, driving deep until his pelvis smacked hard against yours.

Your breath cut off completely, a choked scream tearing from your throat as your fingers clawed desperately into the fabric of his shirt. Your gaze, already locked wide onto his, turned instantly glassy as his sheer thickness stretched you open to an impossible limit, filling you so completely it made your head spin.

“Fuck—” The raven grunted, his upper body hovering over you as he went completely rigid, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

He stayed entirely still, his muscles locked as he forced himself to hold back and let your body adjust to his size. The utter stretch of him filling you to the absolute brim made your hips tremble against the cushions, your breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches beneath his heavy frame.

Every muscle in his back was corded with strain, his pulse hammering heavily where his chest pressed against yours. He took a slow, deep breath, waiting out the initial shock of the fit, though the tight, desperate clench of your walls around his cock was clearly pushing his self control over the edge.

The moment the clenching of your walls finally eased into a welcoming squeeze, Yoongi let out a satisfied groan. He didn't give you a second to recover. Pulling back just enough to catch his leverage, he drove his hips forward, initiating a hard, deliberate rhythm that completely altered the gravity of the room. The slow, punishing depth of his first few strokes was consuming; he slid almost entirely out before sinking all the way back in, bottoming out against you with a wet, heavy thud that rattled the breath right out of your lungs.

He growled, his hands locking firmly on your hips to keep you pinned into the cushions as his pace began to quicken. "Fuck, your pussy feels so good. Just like I imagined."

The steady, intense heat of his body against yours quickly became a relentless blur as his speed increased. The contact was rougher now, the coarse denim of his jeans and the fabric of his boxers scraping against your inner thighs with every aggressive plunge.

The sound of his skin and denim slapping against you echoed loud in the room, driving home the raw, bruising pace he was establishing. With every powerful thrust, his pelvis collided hard against your hips, the tight fullness stretching you so completely that a series of needy, high pitched moans broke from your throat. Because it was your first time, the sheer magnitude of the sensation was almost too much to process; every single movement sent a wave of sweet ache straight through your body, a deep tightness that was simultaneously agonizing and intoxicating as he broke you in.

Yoongi’s gaze never left your face, his eyes dark and entirely focused as he hovered over you. As his upper body leaned in closer to deepen the angle, the chain around his neck swung free. “God, you’re so pretty.” He breathed out. “The best pussy I’ve ever fucking had.”

“Y-Yoongi…” you moaned, your hands balling up the fabric of his shirt tightly. The raven flashed his gummy smile at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. It was something he could listen to over and over again.

“Fuck… say my name again.”

"Y-Yoongi..." you cried out again, your voice completely breaking as your eyes fluttered closed, your mind dissolving under the weight of pleasure, until the sudden sharp, stinging sensation of his fingers gently smacked your cheek, snapping your eyes back open.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice growing incredibly rough and strained as his pace became frantic. "I want you looking at me while I fuck you.” He panted, undoubtedly coming close to his end. You were close as well, feeling an intense feeling build up in your stomach.

"Look at how wet you are for me," he rasped, his dirty talk turning completely unfiltered as he felt the contractions of your walls tightening around him. He drove into you harder, faster. "You're taking every single inch of me."

Your vision blurred at the edges as that coiled heat in your stomach wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap. Every touch felt magnified a hundred times over because it was him, because it was your first time, and the vulnerability of being completely pinned beneath his weight had your mind spinning out of control.

Yoongi let out a low, breathless laugh, his hips stuttering as the deep squelch of your pussy and his thrusts echoed loudly. "Fuck, look what we did," he groaned, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction as he looked down at where your bodies met. "You completely soaked the couch underneath us, baby. You're dripping all over the cushions for me."

Hearing those words sent a heavy wave of heat straight to your face, a mix of intense shyness and absolute surrender that made you squeeze him even tighter.

"Y-Yoongi, I'm gonna..." you cried out, your fingers letting go of his shirt so you could wrap your arms securely around his neck, pulling him down against you. Your hips bucked up instinctively against his, completely consumed by the pressure. "I'm about to cum..."

His dark eyes flared with desperation, his pace turning completely frantic at your admission. Strands of his damp, raven hair fell completely into his face, clinging to his sweaty forehead and obscuring his vision, but he didn't even try to brush them away as he stared down at you through the dark fringe. He slid his arms beneath your back, wrapping them tightly around you and locking you in an embrace that left no space between your chests.

"Me too, baby, fuck, I'm right there with you," he panted out, his voice entirely undone.

He bottomed out hard, his chest heaving as he stared down at you with completely blown out eyes, caught instantly as the coiled tension in your stomach snapped. “Oh god, fuck!” You scream aloud. An explosive, blinding wave of release crashed through you, your walls clamping down on him in tight, frantic pulses.

"I wanna watch my cum dripping out of this tight little pussy when I'm done with you." Yoongi growled, his grip tightening around you as the muscles in his back locked up, your climax triggering his own.With a final, deep thrust, Yoongi threw his head back, his dark hair tossing wildly away from his face. A loud, guttural groan tore from his throat as he came heavily inside you, his entire frame shuddering violently within your embrace as he poured himself into your tightness, locking you both into the shared, breathless aftershocks of the peak.

The violent shuddering of his body slowly subsided, leaving only the sound of your shared, ragged breathing filling the quiet room. For a long moment, neither of you moved. Yoongi remained buried deep inside you, his heavy frame completely draped over yours, his face buried in the crook of your neck as his chest heaved against your breasts.

The tight grip of his arms around your back gradually softened, his hands now simply resting against the fabric of your dress, tracing comforting circles into your waist through the material. You could feel the rapid thumping of his heartbeat right against your ribs, slowly syncing up with your own.

With a low, exhausted grunt, Yoongi shifted his weight, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at you, careful not to crush you on the narrow cushions. Strands of his damp, raven hair were still stuck to his forehead, framing eyes that were dark, heavy-lidded, and utterly soft. The intimidating intensity from moments before was completely gone, replaced by a quiet, protective warmth.

"You okay?" he murmured, his voice incredibly deep from the groans he’d just let out. He raised one hand, his thumb gently brushing against your skin, his touch entirely tender.

“Mhm..” You nod breathlessly, your body feeling liquefied, a pleasant ache settling deep into you.

A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked down at where your bodies were still joined beneath the bunched up layers of your dress. True to his word, as he slowly and carefully began to pull himself out of your slick cunt, a thick, white stream of his release mixed with your own, dripping out of you and pooling onto the already damp fabric of the couch cushions beneath your hips.

"Look at that," Yoongi whispered, a low rumble of dark satisfaction vibrating in his chest as he stared at the messy sight. He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, tasting the salt of your skin. “You did so fucking good for your first time, baby." He praises you.

The raven collapsed back down onto you, shifting his legs so they tangled thoroughly with yours on the snug space of the couch. He tucked his face right back into your neck, wrapping his arms securely around your torso to anchor you against his chest. He didn't care about the state of his slid down jeans or the dampness of your dress; he just wanted to hold you against him as the adrenaline finally began to fade and he began to fall asleep.

Your mind was a chaotic tangle of thoughts you couldn't quite straighten out. The reality of what just happened was crashing down in waves. You had just lost your virginity. And it wasn't just to anyone; it was to Yoongi, the last person you ever expected to be in this position with.

But beneath that realization lay the heaviest weight of all; Jungkook.

The thought of his name sent a sharp, confusing pang straight through your chest. You had cheated. The word felt ugly, completely incompatible with the hazy, warm weight of Yoongi resting on top of you, yet it was undeniably there. Did you regret it? The alcohol and smoke clouded your brain too much to give you a straight answer. There was no clarity to be found right now, no easy wave of guilt or sudden rush of justification. There was no going back from this. No fixing it, no pretending it was a mistake born purely out of a messy night. The moment you had agreed to come to Yoongi’s warehouse, the trajectory of everything had shifted.

All you knew for certain, as you stared blankly into the dimly lit room with Yoongi’s heartbeat thumping steady against your ribs, was that everything was about to change.

Taglist

@te-ddy-be-ar,@hoelychildofgod,@punchbug9-blog,@thv115, @madiilolz, @sexytholland, @whenthebeatdrop-beatdrop, @december-bae10, @miriamkovacova, @jalexad, @kvstjwonnie, @xumyboo, @downtonbabyah, @dudaoosstuff, @anamonie, @jksteponme, @elvirasslave, @coletaehyung, @b3autyist3rror, @kisskissshutmydoor, @watchingover-hypegirl,@kiki-zb, @kookielover29,@jungshook-v, @agustd-17, @iaiahs, @meowmeeps, @usernbdycares, @benyhime, @chishiyassextoy, @naralight3, @monroetoyouhoe,@tigger1997, @httpxelysian11, @rosario-agro, @celestialxus, @forevercarpediem227 @riaismyname, @bbyurastar, @feebz001, @last-sheep, @yoonglez0613, @fireworkpanda, @aluckireference, @busanbby-jjk, @llallaaa @tenderhornynihilist

[btsugarush]

Is this the smut y’all been waiting for? 🫪

[mrsvante]

A Game of Petals & Teeth Masterlist

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: gang au, angst, childhood friends to enemies to lovers

summary: yoongi was twelve when someone dangerous decided he was worth noticing. when you moved in next door, he told himself he could keep you separate from the life that was already closing its fist around him.

he was wrong.

and by the time he realized every choice he made to protect you only pushed you further away, it was already too late.

warnings: drug use, gang activity, gang violence, prison time, wrongful convictions, attempted sexual assault, minor 'character' death, teen pregnancy, pole dancing, unprotected sex (wrap it up please!), soft smut, oral m/f! receiving, angst with a happy ending

one | two | three | four | five

[syllviere]

The Right Kind of Man | Series Masterlist | MYG (M)

Tired of being treated like a glass doll your entire life, all you were looking for was someone who wasn't afraid to be a little rough. Instead, you met Yoongi, a 99% certified nice guy. Still, a little one night stand couldn't hurt, right?

Author: @syllviere

Pairing: Interior Designer!Yoongi x Chaebol Reader

Genre: Series; Mafia AU; Strangers to Friends to Lovers; Smut; Fluff; Mature Themes

Series Tags: profanity; alcohol; unreliable narrator; violence; chronically ill reader; explicit sexual content, soft dom Yoongi, two idiots with a praise kink; if you don't like being called a good girl, this isn't the fic for you; rough sex, biting, scratching, thigh fucking, very light bondage, overstimulation, cock gagging, erotic asphyxiation/breathplay, simulated choking, knifeplay, fingering (f vaginal and anal), oral (m and f), unprotected sex, hair pulling, body and pussy spanking, nipple play, cockwarming, breeding kink?, somnophilia if you SQUINT; this was supposed to be only filth but I’m a soft romantic and I make no apologies

Current Series Word Count: 3,900+

AO3 Crosspost

Last Update: March 22, 2026

Chapter 01 | Chapter 02 | Chapter 03 | Chapter 04

Chapter 05 | Chapter 06 | Chapter 07 | Chapter 08

— extras

Teaser

[gukcnt]

《 ONE NIGHT CONTRACT 》 BTS‏

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*

TAGLIST ✦ OPEN .ᐟ

『 MASTERLIST | READ ON WATTPAD 』

➥ TO BE RELEASED ‹𝟹

[mooncakepoptart]

jiminie ｡𖦹°‧꩜

[kurapikaenia]

𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙡 & 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙠.︱ᴊᴇᴏɴ ᴊᴜɴɢᴋᴏᴏᴋ oneshot.

when the stoic and devastatingly handsome sir jeon jungkook is appointed as your personal knight, sworn to guard your royal highness with a will forged from steel, you quickly discover that his greatest strength may also be his most infuriating trait, he is utterly immune to you. no matter how tightly you lace your corset, he remains the perfect knight, eyes respectfully averted, jaw set like stone. but while sir jungkook may be a man of steel, you are a princess accustomed to getting what you want, and with every sinful intention of discovering whether even the realm’s most loyal knight could be brought to his knees for you.

⎯⎯ pairing: knight jungkook x princess y/n

warnings: erotica, forbidden medieval fantasy au, porn with plot, age gap, yearning, size difference, oral fixation (f.), unprotected sex, the princess is very horny, cold,dom!knight, bigdick!knight, breeding, pregnancy trope, war brutality, motherhood, subtle angst

word count: 20.5k

The great hall of the royal palace echoed with the murmurs of the assembled court. The King sat upon his throne, his stern gaze sweeping over the line of elite knights who had come to compete for the highest honor in the realm, becoming the personal protector of his only daughter, the princess, you.

The position was coveted for many reasons, but none more obvious than the princess herself.

Beauty had always been your burden as much as your blessing. Tales of it traveled farther than merchants and faster than ravens, crossing borders until even distant courts spoke your name with a mixture of admiration and longing. Princes penned verses in your honor without ever meeting you. Even seasoned knights, men hardened by war and duty, often found themselves disarmed by nothing more than a smile.

With your coronation fast approaching, the kingdom stood on the brink of celebration. It would be the grandest event seen in decades, drawing princes, dignitaries from every corner of the continent. Some would arrive seeking alliances. Most would arrive seeking you.

The prospect amused you more than it excited you.

“Protecting my daughter is not merely a matter of strength,” your father’s voice boomed through the hall. “It demands unyielding discipline and absolute loyalty. You will each face three trials. The princess herself will accompany you, so that you may prove your worth in her presence.”

Your eyes swept slowly across the line of knights standing before the throne, a faint mask of boredom kissing your beautiful face, certain that none of them would truly be able to handle you.

For years, entertaining yourself at the expense of knights had become something of a pastime. A lingering touch against a gauntleted hand, a mere whispered compliment that left disciplined warriors suddenly forgetting their own names. Watching them struggle to maintain their composure was endlessly amusing.

You had notoriously toyed with men like this, living wildly beneath the weight of your royal title, and your father knew this better than anyone. That was precisely why he had designed these trials.

He wasn’t simply looking for the strongest sword arm. He wanted a knight with sharp intellect and the rare ability to withstand your constant attempts to live life on your terms rather than as a perfectly mannered princess.

A small, intrigued smile played on your lips when the first few knights stepped forward. They were impressive in brute force, but you could already tell they would crumble the moment you decided to play.

Then he stepped forward.

Sir Jeon Jungkook.

Even fully armored, with only his dark, piercing eyes visible through the narrow slit of his helmet, once his unflinching gaze met yours for a brief second, a strange spark ignited low in your belly. You tilted your head, studying those dark eyes with growing interest.

The first trial took place that very evening in the smaller banquet hall. Only a select few courtiers were present. You sat at the high table beside your father, sipping from a jeweled goblet.

Unknown to the competing knights, the King had arranged for one of the wine pitchers to be laced with a powerful sleeping draught. Harmless, but potent enough to leave the princess disoriented and vulnerable. Only the King, a few trusted advisors, and the princess herself knew of the plan.

The knights had been given only one instruction: protect the princess. No further details.

As the evening progressed, the effects of the draught began to take hold. Your thoughts grew pleasantly hazy, movements slower. The jeweled goblet nearly slipped from your grasp once before you caught it. A second time, you laughed at something that had not been particularly funny.

Several knights noticed. Some were too busy trying to appear vigilant, eyes constantly scanning the room for imaginary assassins.

A few noticed your condition and drew dangerously close. One insisted on helping you stand despite the fact that you had not asked for assistance. Another rested a hand against your lower back almost inappropriately while guiding you through the room. One knight even smiled when he realized how heavily you leaned upon him after stumbling.

The courtiers watched everything. So did the King.

You were beginning to feel genuinely annoyed when a tall figure stepped silently between you and yet another overeager knight.

Sir Jeon Jungkook.

Unlike the others, he had not hovered around you all evening. He had remained where a royal protector belonged, close enough to intervene, distant enough to respect your space.

Dark eyes studied your face through the narrow opening of his helmet. “The princess has had enough wine,” he declared.

The knight beside you scoffed. “She seems perfectly fin—”

“She does not.”

You watched surprise flicker across the other knight’s face.

Sir Jungkook’s hand briefly closed around your forearm as you swayed, steadying you before immediately letting go the moment your balance returned.

Within moments he had summoned two ladies-in-waiting to accompany you back to your chambers. When another knight offered to carry you himself, Sir Jungkook declined on your behalf before you could even answer.

“Her reputation is as important as her safety.”

For the first time all evening, genuine curiosity stirred within you.

Most men saw opportunity when they looked at you. Some saw beauty, a few saw a future crown. Yet somehow, Sir Jeon Jungkook seemed to see only his duty.

As the ladies guided you toward the doorway, you glanced back over your shoulder.

“How noble of you, Sir Jungkook,” you teased, voice softened by the draught. “Are you always so resistant to temptation?”

His gaze never wavered. “My duty is to protect Your Highness.”

For reasons you could not quite explain, that response lingered in your thoughts far longer than any flirtatious remark ever had.

The final trial was, by all appearances, the simplest.

After weeks of staged attacks, hidden tests, the remaining candidates expected one final demonstration of skill. Some anticipated a duel. Others believed they would be sent to defend the princess from another fabricated threat. Instead, the King announced that the last trial would consist of a single week of personal duty beside the princess. No further explanation was offered.

The knights were disappointed.

You, however, knew exactly what your father was doing.

The trial was not designed to test strength or intelligence. It was designed to test restraint.

Most of the candidates failed within days. Some became overly eager whenever you requested their company.

Others ignored palace protocol the moment you suggested bending the rules. One knight allowed you to wander through the city market without informing the royal guard because he was too eager to please you. Another accepted an invitation to share wine in one of the palace balconies despite knowing perfectly well how improper it appeared. Every failure was carefully observed and quietly recorded.

Only one knight remained infuriatingly impossible.

Sir Jeon Jungkook.

The more you watched him, the more determined you became to discover his weakness. Surely he had one. Everyone did.

At first, your attempts were harmless. During walks through the palace gardens, you lingered beside him instead of remaining ahead as protocol dictated. During meals, you directed most of your conversation toward him. More than once, you deliberately brushed your fingers against the steel of his gauntlet while speaking. Other knights would have turned crimson. Some would have stumbled over their own words.

Sir Jungkook merely stepped aside and continued his duties as though nothing had happened.

Perhaps it was the way every other knight had spent the past weeks attempting to impress you, the King, or the court.

Where others sought favor, he sought only to fulfill his duty. And thus, when the day of the final judgment arrived, the outcome surprised absolutely no one.

Your father rose slowly from his seat.

“Sir Jeon Jungkook,” he declared, voice echoing through the hall. “You have successfully completed all trials. You have shown not only strength and intellect, but the rare ability to anticipate danger and resist… temptation.” His gaze flicked briefly to you. “From this day forward, you are hereby appointed as the princess’s personal royal knight and protector. Guard her with your life. And may the gods help you.”

A murmur rippled through the court.

You turned toward Sir Jeon Jungkook, stepping just close enough that your crimson gown brushed his armor.

“Welcome to my service, Sir Jungkook,” you whispered so only he could hear. “I do hope you’re prepared. Resisting me may prove to be your greatest trial yet.”

His dark eyes held yours with unshakable strength. “I was under the impression I had already passed that one, Your Highness.”

—

Having Sir Jeon Jungkook follow you around all day wasn’t ideal.

It had not even been three months since his appointment as your royal knight, yet his constant, silent presence had already begun to grate on your nerves. He was always a towering shadow in dark armor, never more than a few steps behind. What annoyed you most was his utter lack of reaction.

No matter how boldly you flirted, no matter how you tightened your corset in front of him until your breasts nearly spilled over, no matter how many times you “accidentally” brushed against him, he remained perfectly composed.

What bothered you most of all was that you still had no idea what he looked like. Only those dark, intense eyes visible through the narrow slit of his helmet. The rest of him remained hidden behind steel, a constant, frustrating mystery.

The journey to the neighboring kingdom for the grand alliance celebration had been long and stifling. You rode in the royal ornate covered carriage borne by four strong horses and guarded on all sides. The extravagant gown you wore was beautiful but suffocating, the tight corset pressing against your ribs and making every breath feel like a struggle. Boredom weighed on you like lead.

Your dearest friend, Lady Isolde rode beside you in her own litter. She was to be wed in a month, and the two of you had spent the journey giggling like girls again, whispering behind silk curtains.

“He’s so tall,” Isolde teased, peeking through the gap toward where Sir Jeon Jungkook rode steadily beside your litter. “And those eyes… I wonder what the rest of him looks like under all that steel. Do you think he’s handsome, or just another brute?”

You laughed softly, though your gaze lingered on the narrow slit of Jungkook’s helmet, where those dark, intense eyes remained fixed forward.

“As if,” you replied, laced with mock boredom. “He’s far too proper. I could tighten my corset until my breasts nearly spill, and he wouldn’t even glance.”

Isolde giggled. “You should try. For science.”

Sir Jungkook’s eyes flicked toward the litter for the briefest second before returning forward. You smirked. Annoyed as you were by his constant, unflinching presence… you were also undeniably intrigued.

That night, after the feasting and music had died down and the royal party made camp near the forest’s edge, you slipped away, desperate for even a moment of peace, and determined to test just how far his restraint could stretch.

The air had grown chilly, carrying the faint bite of early autumn as you made your way to the forbidden stretch of the deep bend where the river water ran swift and dangerously deep. No one was permitted here after dark, especially not the princess.

You knew he would follow.

The heavy footsteps of armor soon echoed behind you on the rocky bank.

“Your Highness,” Sir Jungkook’s deep voice rang out, firm. “This area is strictly prohibited at night. The currents are treacherous and the water is far too cold. We must return to the palace at once.”

You barely looked at him. Your eyes were fastened upon the vast expanse of the river, moonlight dancing across its dark surface like scattered diamonds. You wanted nothing more than to feel the cool waves kissing your bare skin, to swim freely under the moon with no eyes judging you in, except his.

A small, unusually kind smile touched your lips as you turned toward him.

“Why don’t you join me, Sir Jungkook?” you asked softly, your voice carrying on the gentle night breeze. “Just for a little while. The water looks so peaceful tonight.”

Sir Jungkook stood like a statue in his dark armor. “Your Highness… that would be highly improper,” he replied, voice low. “I am here to protect you, not to… bathe with you.”

You let out a soft, melodic laugh and began walking toward the river’s edge, the hem of your gown brushing the grass.

“Well, I suppose then…” you bit your lip, your fingers moving to the laces of your gown with aching slowness. “I shall swim, and you will stand guard like the loyal knight you are.”

You could feel his intense eyes watching through the narrow slit of his helmet as you loosened the ties. The rich fabric slid from your shoulders like liquid silk, pooling at your feet.

Completely bare under the moonlight, you wore nothing beneath. Your skin glowed luminous and your full breasts rose and fell with each breath, nipples already stiff from the cold night air. The curve of your waist flared into soft hips, and the smooth, delicate skin between your thighs was on full display.

Sir Jungkook immediately turned his head sharply away, staring fixedly into the dark trees.

“Your Highness!” His voice was strained. “This is highly inappropriate. I cannot allow—”

“You don’t have to allow anything,” you cut him off, dripping with defiance. “You’re not permitted to touch me while I’m bare. So you’ll just have to stand there.”

You waded into the river with a soft gasp. The icy water bit into your skin, but the thrill of rebellion pushed you forward. You swam out deeper, the cold making your body hypersensitive.

You glanced back at the bank. Sir Jungkook stood like a statue, head turned away, refusing to look at your naked form even once. His armored fists were clenched tightly at his sides.

A thrill of satisfaction ran through you.

You felt exhilarated. Free. And wickedly aware that the most disciplined man in the kingdom was standing on the bank, fighting not to look at you.

“Are you really going to stand there all night, Sir Jungkook? The water feels wonderful… and I’m all alone out here.” You swam further out, the cold water caressing every inch of your bare skin. A soft, content sigh escaped your lips.

It would be a plain lie if you said you weren’t at least a little relieved that he had followed you. The deep bend was no joke. its treacherous currents and deadly depth were feared even by The King. Yet here you were, aching to tear down the walls of the knight who refused to bend to your charms.

You floated lazily on your back, letting the moonlight kiss your bare skin. Then, with a mischievous glint in your eyes, you took your chance.

Once a subtle current tugged at your legs, you gasped dramatically, flailing your arms and letting out a soft, helpless cry. “Oh—!”

You fought back a giggle, pretending to be a damsel in distress, knowing the current wasn’t strong enough to truly endanger you. You wanted to see if you could finally crack his composure.

But the gods had other plans.

Without warning, a far more treacherous undercurrent slammed into you like a living beast. It dragged you under violently, twisting your body, filling your mouth and nose with icy water. Real panic surged through you as you lost your breath and sight in the black depths.

“Jungkook!” you screamed, the sound barely coherent as water rushed into your lungs. This time, it was no act.

Sir Jeon Jungkook did not hesitate for even a fraction of a second. He plunged into the river fully armored, cutting through the violent current with powerful strokes. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, yanking your naked body against his steel chest as he fought the river with raw, expert strength. You clung to him desperately, coughing and gasping as he dragged you back to the rocky bank.

The moment he pulled you ashore, his helmet caught on a low hanging branch and was ripped clean off.

You lay on the grass, gasping for air, when your eyes finally focused on the man hovering above you.

And you forgot how to breathe.

Sir Jeon Jungkook was devastatingly, unfairly handsome.

Wet raven black hair clung to his forehead and sharp, sculpted cheekbones. Water droplets traced the strong line of his jaw and dripped from sensual lips. His dark eyes, now fully exposed, were intense and beautiful, framed by long lashes and thick brows. A faint scar graced his left eyebrow, adding a rugged edge to his otherwise perfect masculine beauty.

Before you could speak, he swiftly grabbed his crimson cloak and draped it over your naked body, covering you completely with careful reverence. His gaze remained locked strictly on your face, never once drifting to your exposed skin.

“Are you okay, Your Highness?” he asked, voice rough with concern. A faint blush colored his cheeks as he noticed the way you were staring at his now-bare face.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came. The combination of the dangerous current, the shock of nearly drowning, and the overwhelming sight of your knight’s true face left you dizzy and speechless.

Your vision blurred. You passed out in his arms.

Sir Jungkook pulled you closer against his armored chest, one large hand gently brushed your wet hair away from your face, his touch surprisingly tender. He lifted you effortlessly, cradling you like a warrior carrying his lady, your head resting against his broad shoulder, body wrapped securely in his cloak, legs draped over his arm as he carried you back to his mare.

He mounted carefully, keeping you nestled safely against him as the horse began the journey back to the palace through secret paths.

You woke briefly as he laid you down on the thick rug before the hearth in your royal chambers. The fire was already roaring. You were still wrapped in his cloak, beneath it only a thin silk bandeau now clung to your body, the delicate material barely containing your breasts, pressing them together in a deep, soft cleavage that rose and fell with each shaky breath.

You trembled from the cold and the lingering shock of the river.

Sir Jeon Jungkook remained kneeling by the fire, his movements precise as he stoked the flames. Water dripped from his raven hair onto his armoured shoulders. Then he rose to his full, imposing height, towering, broad shouldered.

Without a word, he reached for his helmet, which rested upon a nearby oak chest, clearly intending to conceal his face once more.

“No,” you whispered, your voice soft yet commanding as you pushed yourself up on one elbow. “Do not put it back on.”

The knight paused, gloved hand hovering above the helm. His dark eyes met yours, intense and conflicted.

“Your Highness… it is not fitting for me to stand before you unveiled,” he said, his voice carrying the formal cadence of a sworn knight. “I must maintain the dignity of my position.”

You sat up fully, the cloak slipping slightly from one shoulder, revealing the smooth curve of your skin and the edge of the silk bandeau. Despite the cold still clinging to your bones, warmth bloomed low in your belly as you gazed upon his face, truly beheld it for the first time.

“Come closer,” You rose to your knees on the rug, the cloak parting further as you reached for him. “Let me see you properly.”

He hesitated, every line of his powerful frame taut with restraint. Yet he obeyed, lowering himself once more to kneel before you. Even on his knees, he remained nearly at your eye level, so tall and broad was he.

You lifted a delicate hand and brushed your fingers through his damp raven locks, pushing them back from his forehead. A contented sigh escaped your lips.

“You are far too pleasing to look upon, Sir Jungkook,” you whispered, almost in awe. “I had wondered what lay beneath that steel. Never did I imagine such a face.”

Sir Jungkook remained perfectly still on his knees before you. His hands rested tensely on his armoured thighs as he fought to keep his gaze fixed on your face and not the way your breasts strained against the thin silk bandeau.

“You flatter me, Your Highness,” he replied, voice low. “But I am your knight. Nothing more. Please allow me to restore my helmet.”

You shook your head slowly, refusing to let him hide again. Instead, you leaned closer, your fingers still buried in his damp raven hair.

A new, overwhelming wave of admiration and obsession washed over you. This man... this mature, hardened, breathtakingly handsome knight was kneeling before you like a devotee. The realization sent a fresh rush of heat between your thighs.

“You’re older than me, aren’t you?” you murmured softly, continuing to caress his hair with gentle strokes. “Hardened by battles and years I haven’t yet seen.”

You wondered how many more scars he carried beneath that heavy armor hidden across his broad chest, his strong back.

“I am twenty eight, Your Highness,” he answered quietly, his deep voice carrying that disciplined tone you were growing addicted to.

“Tell me something personal,” you said, your voice turning playful yet curious. Your fingers trailed from his hair down to trace his cheekbone once more. “Have you ever been with a woman, Sir Jeon? Truly been with one?”

His jaw tightened visibly. The question crossed every boundary a knight was sworn to respect.

“Your Highness… such questions are not appropriate for me to answer,” he replied. You leaned in even closer, still stroking his hair tenderly, your breath brushing against his skin.

“But I want to know,” you whispered. “Have you ever touched a woman the way a man touches a lover? Ever kissed one?”

Jungkook’s breathing grew slightly heavier. His dark eyes stayed locked on yours with iron discipline, though you could clearly see the storm brewing behind them.

“I have not, Your Highness,” he finally answered, voice low and honest. “My duty has always come first.”

A thrill ran through you at his confession. You let your fingers drift lower, brushing along his sharp jawline. “And if a woman wanted you… desperately?” your voice dropped to a near whisper. “If she wanted your mouth between her thighs… your tongue tasting her, would you deny her?”

The impure question hung heavy in the air between you. You shocked even yourself with how boldly it slipped out, but the vivid image, his devastatingly handsome face trapped between your legs, mouth glistening with your arousal made the heat bloom even more slick between your thighs.

Sir Jungkook’s hands clenched tighter on his armored thighs. A faint flush colored the tips of his ears and neck, but he remained on his knees.

“Your Highness,” he said, reverently, “I am sworn to protect you. Not to… indulge in such thoughts.”

You smiled softly. Then you leaned back on the bed, letting the crimson cloak fall open completely. The thin silk bandeau was the only thing left covering you, and even that felt too much now.

“Then I command you,” You looked down at him, this powerful knight on his knees before you, and felt a rush of pure need. “I want your mouth on me, Jungkook. Right now.”

“Your Highness, I—”

“Touch me,” you breathed, cutting him off. “Please, Jungkook…”

You reached down and grabbed his gloved hand, bringing it to your chest. Slowly, you pressed his large palm over the thin silk bandeau, letting him feel the soft, heavy weight of your breast. Your nipple was already painfully hard beneath the fabric.

Sir Jungkook’s breath hitched sharply. His entire body tensed, the muscles in his arm flexing under the armor as he fought against every instinct.

You didn’t stop there, dragging his hand lower, sliding it down your stomach until his fingers rested between your thighs. You were soaked. your petals slick and hot against his gloved fingers.

“Feel how damp you make me,” you whispered, voice shaking with need.

Sir Jungkook let out a low, strained groan. His dark eyes were fixed on your face, but you could see the violent war happening behind them.

The most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on — the princess, the future queen, was laid out before him in nothing but a flimsy silk bandeau, legs spread, pressing his hand against her dripping cunt.

“Your Highness…” he rasped, albeit desperate. “This is beyond forbidden. You are royalty. I am sworn—”

“I don’t care,” you whimpered, grinding slowly against his gloved fingers. “I need you. I’ve never felt this way before. Touch me now, my knight. Please.”

His hand trembled. For a long moment, he simply rested there, feeling your wetness soak through the leather of his glove. Then, with a broken exhale that sounded like surrender, his fingers moved.

He stroked along your soaked folds, parting the delicate petals of your most secret flower. And what a flower it was... a lush, glistening rosebud blooming only for him. Your outer lips were soft and swollen with need, flushed deep, delicate like the first blush of dawn.

As he gently spread you open, the inner petals revealed themselves: silky, and impossibly tender, layered like the finest rose in full bloom after a summer rain. At the center lay your sweetest nectar, dripping and honeyed, flowing abundantly from your aching entrance.

The knight didn’t know what came over him, but your pulsing heat and slick, puckering folds had him utterly entranced. His breathing grew ragged. You could see the way his throat worked, the way his tongue unconsciously darted out to wet his lips. He was drooling.

“May I lick you, Your Highness?” he asked hoarsely, voice thick with barely contained hunger. “Please… allow me to taste you.”

The desperate plea from such a disciplined man sent a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you.

“Yes,” you breathed, spreading your thighs wider for him, your voice trembling with raw need. “Use your mouth on me, Jungkook. Lick your princess until she cannot think.”

The moment the words left your lips, something in him broke. Sir Jungkook leaned in and dragged his hot, wet tongue slowly up your soaked slit. The first full taste of you pulled a deep, guttural groan from his chest. You were intoxicatingly sweet and dripping with arousal. He licked you again, slower this time, savoring every slick fold as if he were drinking the finest wine in the kingdom.

You cried out sharply, back arching off the bed as overwhelming pleasure flooded your body. The sensation was brand new, so intense it made your legs twitch violently.

“Oh... Jungkook!” you moaned, fingers digging into his raven hair.

The knight’s tongue circled your swollen clit before sucking it gently into his mouth, then plunged inside your tight heat, ravishing you with slow, deep strokes. The wet, filthy sounds of his mouth eagerly eating you echoed through the chamber, obscene, and shameless.

The most beautiful woman he had ever known, the future queen, was thrashing beneath him, legs shaking uncontrollably around his head, soft whimpers and loud moans spilling from her pretty lips.

Your hips rolled desperately against his face, coating his tongue, lips, and chin with your sweet release. Sir Jungkook drank every drop you gave him, groaning against your cunt as his own cock strained painfully against his armor.

He had never tasted anything so addictive.

You were already twitching, gasping, legs trembling so hard they threatened to close around his head. The pleasure was too much, too new, too overwhelming for your body.

Suddenly, Sir Jungkook pulled back slightly, his lips glistening with your juices. His dark eyes looked up at you, breathing ragged.

“Should I continue, Your Highness?” he asked hoarsely, voice thick with lust and devotion. “Tell me… do you want more?”

You could barely form words. Your body was shaking, pussy throbbing, dripping onto the mattress beneath you.

“Please don’t stop,” you whimpered desperately. “Keep licking me... please...”

The knight obeyed instantly. He buried his face back between your thighs and attacked your clit with relentless strokes of his tongue. Two thick fingers pushed inside you, curling perfectly against that sensitive spot while he sucked hard on your swollen pearl.

The pleasure hit you like a storm.

Your entire body seized up. A loud, broken scream tore from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you violently. Your thighs clamped around his head, hips bucking wildly against his mouth as you gushed on his tongue. Wave after wave of intense pleasure ripped through you, leaving you shaking uncontrollably, vision blurring at the edges.

You nearly passed out from the sheer intensity of it. body twitching, chest heaving, soft cries still falling from your lips as the pleasure refused to let go.

Sir Jungkook stayed between your thighs through every tremor, drinking down every last drop of your release like a man who had finally found salvation.

When your body finally went limp, trembling and oversensitive, he gently kissed your inner thigh before pulling back, his handsome face flushed and glistening with your arousal.

You could barely speak, still catching your breath as you stared at the sight of your proud, disciplined knight with your release shining on his lips.

—

“The Princess requires her knight’s escort to the eastern tower for stargazing.”

The message was innocent enough on paper. But the court had begun to notice how often you summoned Sir Jeon Jungkook for these private “duties.” Some whispered that the Princess trusted no one else. Others envied the knight who had earned such unwavering favor from the realm’s greatest beauty.

They had no idea what really happened once the tower door was bolted.

In the eastern tower under the stars, you would push Sir Jungkook against the cold stone wall and demand his mouth on you again. He always hesitated at first, “Your Highness, we mustn’t…” but the moment you looked at him with those wide, needy eyes and whispered “Please, Jungkook… I ache for you,” his resolve crumbled.

He would drop to his knees in full armor, push your skirts up to your waist, and bury his face between your thighs. The sounds he made while devouring you were filthy and desperately loud. wet slurps and deep groans as he drank every drop of your arousal. You quickly learned to muffle your loud moans against your own arm or his shoulder, thighs shaking violently around his head as he brought you to shattering orgasm after orgasm.

He never asked for anything in return at first. But one night, after he had made you come so hard you saw stars, you dropped to your knees in front of him, hands trembling as you freed his thick, aching cock from his breeches.

You had never seen the knight fully bare, but you had tasted him.

You took him into your mouth with clumsy but eager hunger, sucking and licking until he was groaning your name like a prayer, his gloved hand gently cradling the back of your head. When he spilled down your throat, you swallowed every drop, looking up at him with wide, adoring eyes.

The tension between you only grew hotter, more forbidden.

You began creating excuses just to be close to him.

You “accidentally” wandered into dangerous parts of the forest during hunts. You “lost” your way in the palace corridors at night. You deliberately teased foreign dignitaries until they grew too bold, all so Sir Jungkook would have to step in, pull you protectively against his armored chest, and hold you there while scolding you with his low voice.

Each time, you nestled your head against his chest plate, breathing in his scent, feeling safe in a way you had never felt with anyone else.

One quiet afternoon in the royal rose gardens, while the other knights kept their distance. The summer blooms were at their peak, rows upon rows of crimson roses spilling over marble trellises in a riot of color and fragrance. Courtiers often compared them to you. You had heard the comparison so many times throughout your life that it had long since lost all meaning.

Your attention was elsewhere when Sir Jungkook paused beside a rose bush heavy with crimson blooms. Reaching out, he selected a single flower and turned it thoughtfully between his fingers before approaching.

“A gift?” you asked.

“If Your Highness would accept it.”

The answer surprised a smile from you.

He stepped forward and tucked the rose behind your ear. His gloved fingers lingered only for a second before withdrawing, but even that brief touch seemed to affect him more than he wished to admit.

When you looked up, his gaze was fixed upon the flower. “Beautiful things are dangerous,” he said quietly.

You laughed. “I believe roses are dangerous for everyone except gardeners.”

His expression didn’t change.

“I wasn’t speaking about the rose.”

Your heart fluttered so violently you had to look away. it was becoming impossible to deny how deeply you were falling for him.

The kisses grew sloppier, more desperate with every stolen moment.

In the abandoned library, your knight would press you against the bookshelves, helmet removed, and kiss you like he was drowning, tongue sliding against yours, hands gripping your waist as if afraid you might vanish. You kissed him back just as hungrily, tugging at his hair, moaning softly into his mouth while your hand palmed the hard bulge in his breeches.

Your hunger for him was insatiable. You ached for his presence constantly. The court noticed how you lit up when he entered a room, how you instinctively moved closer to him during gatherings. They saw devotion, they saw trust.

They never saw the way you both held each other’s eyes like lovers who knew their time was stolen.

The relationship was utterly forbidden. Your father would banish him, or worse, if he ever discovered the truth. But neither of you could stop. Something real was blossoming between you.

The knight admired your wild, rebellious spirit. You admired his quiet strength and unwavering honor. In the darkness, you were no longer just princess and knight. You were becoming each other’s secret salvation. And it was only a matter of time before the tension finally snapped.

—

The Coronation.

The kingdom was in full celebration. Banners of the finest gold flew from every tower. The greatest event in decades had arrived, your coronation as Queen.

Princes from across the realms had come in droves, each more eager than the last to win your hand and the throne beside you. They brought lavish gifts, performed in grand tournaments, and showered you with compliments. The entire court watched with bated breath, waiting for you to choose.

You sat upon the raised dais in a breathtaking gown of white, looking every bit the ethereal queen-to-be. But your eyes kept drifting to the tall, armored figure standing silently behind your throne, Sir Jeon Jungkook.

He had become even more composed in public, yet you could feel the storm raging beneath his helmet. Especially when you decided to play your cruel little game.

Prince Min of Veina leaned close during the feast, whispering sweet nothings about your beauty. You laughed brightly, placing a hand on his arm, letting your fingers linger, leaning in just enough for your neckline to offer him a generous view of your breasts.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Sir Jungkook’s gloved hand tighten around the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white.

Another prince, a golden haired lord from the eastern isles, offered you a rose during the garden promenade. You accepted it with a coy smile, twirling it between your fingers while glancing toward your knight.

Sir Jungkook’s dark eyes burned behind the helmet. You could feel his jealousy like a living thing, hot and barely contained.

That night, after the feasting and dancing, you summoned him to the eastern tower under the usual pretense.

The moment the door closed, he was on you.

The knight pinned you against the cold stone wall. The single rose you’d been idly twirling between your fingers, a gift from one of the many princes, fell forgotten to the floor.

Sir Jungkook’s dark eyes burned with something almost feral.

“You will be wed off soon?” he growled dangerously, breath hot against your ear.

You looked up at him, heart racing. Your long, wavy hair had finally been let down after the long day, cascading over your shoulders and hips like dark silk. The tight corset of your white coronation gown was already loosened, the fabric slipping slightly off one shoulder, revealing the smooth curve of your skin.

“What do you think about Prince Min?” you asked sweetly, tilting your head. “I think he’s quite lovely. So charming. He even said he would worship me every night once we’re wed.”

Sir Jungkook’s jaw clenched so hard you heard it crack. The jealousy that had been simmering all day threatening to explode.

“Doesn’t it drive you mad, Sir Jeon?” You leaned in closer, letting your breasts brush against his armored chest. “Knowing your princess, the one you’ve been secretly devouring every night, is wanted by so many powerful men? That they all dream of putting a ring on my finger and taking me to their beds?”

“It is exquisite torture, Your Highness,” he growled, eyes burning. “Watching them look at you like they have any right to you. Knowing I’m the only one who’s ever tasted you, the only one who’s ever made you scream.”

His raw honesty sent a sharp thrill through you. You bit your lip, loving the way jealousy sharpened his features, making his dark eyes appear even more intense. He was possessive and barely holding himself back. And you wanted to push him further.

You stepped away from the wall with a teasing smile, walking over to the tall, gilded mirror that stood near the fireplace. The white gown still clung to your body, hair cascading in long, wild waves down your back. You picked up a silver brush and began slowly running it through it, watching him in the reflection.

Sir Jungkook followed you like a shadow, stopping just behind you. His tall, powerful frame loomed in the mirror, twice your size, radiating heat and restrained fury.

“Does that bother you, my knight?” A teasing smile played on your lips. “Knowing that soon I might have to let another man—”

You didn’t get to finish. Sir Jungkook’s large hand closed around your wrist, stopping the brush mid stroke. He plucked it from your fingers and set it down with a deliberate clack. His other hand gripped your hip, pulling your back flush against his armored chest.

Your breath hitched. The playful boldness you’d been wielding all night vanished in an instant.

“Enough,” he growled low against your ear, “You’ve teased me enough tonight, Your Highness.”

His dark eyes burned into yours through the mirror. The intensity there made your knees weak. This wasn’t the restrained, obedient knight anymore. This was a man who had finally reached his limit.

He reached around you and slowly began unlacing the rest of your corset. The white gown loosened further, slipping down your shoulders. You watched in the mirror as he tugged it lower, exposing your full breasts to the cool air and the warm firelight. Your nipples were hard, flushed, and sensitive.

Sir Jungkook’s hand cupped one breast possessively, squeezing it as his thumb brushed over the stiff peak. You gasped, arching into his touch.

“Look at yourself,” he ordered quietly, voice rough. “Look how beautiful you are. How perfect. And yet you let them think they could ever have this.”

He pinched your nipple, rolling it between his fingers until you whimpered. His other hand slid down, gathering the fabric of your gown and pulling it up to your waist, fully exposing your bare cunt in the mirror.

Your face bloomed bright red as you instinctively tried to close your legs, suddenly overwhelmed with shyness at the sight of yourself so lewdly displayed, flushed and completely bare in the golden firelight.

But Sir Jungkook wouldn’t allow it. His large hand gripped your thigh firmly, spreading you open again as he pressed his body harder against your back.

“Don’t hide,” His dark eyes met yours in the mirror, intense and commanding. “Look how filthy and wet you are for me.”

You shivered, unable to tear your eyes away from the reflection. The contrast was obscene, your ethereal white gown bunched around your waist, breasts exposed and heaving, legs spread wide while his armored body loomed behind you like a dark, possessive shadow.

Sir Jungkook’s hand returned between your thighs. Two thick fingers slid through your slick folds, parting them slowly so you could see everything in the mirror. You whimpered at the sight, embarrassed yet unbearably aroused.

“So beautiful,” he breathed as he circled your swollen clit with his fingertip. “This is what belongs to me. Not to any prince. Not to anyone else.”

He pushed two fingers inside you without warning, curling them deep. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as he began ravishing you with slow, deliberate strokes that made wet, obscene sounds echo in the quiet tower.

You tried to close your legs again, overwhelmed, but he held them open with ease, his grip firm and unyielding.

“Watch,” he ordered softly, voice dark with lust. “Watch how easily I can make my princess fall apart.”

Your eyes stayed glued to the mirror as his fingers plunged in and out of your soaked cunt, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your cheeks were flushed deep crimson, lips parted in shameless moans, breasts bouncing slightly with every thrust of his hand.

The pleasure built fast and merciless. Your legs started shaking, thighs trembling violently as you fought to stay upright.

Sir Jungkook’s fingers curled deeper, stroking that perfect spot inside you while his thumb pressed firm circles on your swollen clit.

You came hard with a broken cry, arousal gushing down his wrist and dripping onto the stone floor beneath you. Your head fell back against his armored shoulder, body convulsing as wave after wave of intense pleasure tore through right after.

The knight dragged his arousal coated fingers from your pulsing heat and brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean while his dark eyes stayed locked on yours in the mirror. The obscene sight made you whimper, legs pressing together instinctively. This time, he allowed it.

You pulled away from him shyly, legs unsteady as you walked toward the wide couch near the fireplace. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to cover your bare breasts, suddenly overwhelmed with embarrassment.

Sir Jungkook approached you ever so slowly. His heart was pounding. you could see it in the rise and fall of his broad chest. The way your flushed cheeks and shy posture made you look so adorable only made his desire burn hotter.

He stopped in front of you, towering over your smaller frame. Without a word, he gently uncrossed your arms, exposing your breasts again. You tried to cover them once more, but he caught your wrists softly.

“You’re too beautiful to hide, my love.” he murmured, voice low.

He leaned down and took one sensitive nipple into his hot mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder. You gasped sharply, hands flying to his shoulders as overwhelming sensitivity shot through you.

“Jungkook... it’s too much...” you whimpered, lightly pushing at his shoulders, cheeks burning with shyness.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark with lust and affection. “You’re so sensitive here,” he whispered, almost in awe. He flicked his tongue over your nipple again, watching your reaction closely. “So angelic when you tremble like this.”

He sucked harder, alternating between your breasts, licking and biting softly until you were a whimpering mess, pushing at him weakly while your body arched into his mouth.

You grew frustrated at the unfairness, nearly naked while he was still fully armored. With a small, determined huff, you pushed him back slightly and began tugging at the straps of his armor.

“It is not fair,” you muttered, cheeks still flushed. “You get to see all of me, but I still haven’t seen you.”

The knight let you undress him, helping you remove piece after piece until he stood completely bare before you for the first time.

Your breath caught.

He was magnificent. Broad shoulders, powerfully sculpted chest marked with old scars, some long and faded, others newer. A few dark tattoos adorned his left pectoral and ribs. His abdomen was ridged with muscle, leading down to narrow hips. His cock hung heavy between his legs, thick and already hard.

You stepped closer, running your hands over his bare chest, tracing every scar with reverent fingers, exploring the strong lines of his back, more scars mapping his battles. He stood perfectly still, letting you admire him, though his breathing had grown heavier.

“You are… so manly, my knight,” you breathed, barely coherent, as your hands returned to his chest, sliding down the hard ridges of his abdomen. “So big… so perfect.”

The room had grown hotter, heavier. The air between you felt charged with months of suppressed longing. Your breaths mingled as you stared into each other’s eyes... yours wide with awe and desire, his dark with barely restrained hunger.

Sir Jungkook’s control finally snapped. He lifted you and laid you down on the wide couch near the fireplace, pinning your exploring hands above your head with one large hand, holding them there firmly before his body hovered over yours, powerful and imposing, thick cock resting heavy against your inner thigh.

“Look at me,” he commanded, voice low and rough.

You did, heart hammering.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, eyes burning into yours.

You squirmed beneath him, aching and desperate. “Take me,” you pleaded, trembling. “Please, Jungkook… give it to me. I need you inside me.”

Sir Jungkook let out a low groan at your words. He positioned himself at your entrance, the thick head of his cock pressing against your soaked folds. He was big, almost intimidatingly so. You felt the stretch even before he pushed in.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Your Highness,” he whispered, voice strained with worry and barely contained lust. His dark eyes searched yours, torn between desire and restraint. “You’re so tight...”

You trembled beneath him, legs parted wide around his hips. “Please,” you begged softly, cupping his face. “Don’t hold back. I need you. All of you.”

The knight exhaled shakily and began to push inside.

The stretch was intense. You gasped sharply as the thick head of his cock breached you, slowly forcing your walls open. Inch by thick inch, he sank deeper, filling you in a way you had never experienced before. It burned sweetly, bordering on too much, making your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Ah... Jungkook…” you whimpered, tears pricking your eyes at the overwhelming fullness.

He paused halfway, breathing hard, jaw clenched tight. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he rasped, rough. “I’ll stop. I swear it.”

But you shook your head, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded, voice breaking. “I need you deeper… please.”

With a low groan, he pushed the rest of the way in, burying himself to the hilt. The fullness was devastating. You felt so stretched, so completely claimed, that for a moment you could barely breathe.

Sir Jungkook stayed still, letting you adjust, pressing soft kisses to your tear stained cheeks.

“You’re taking me so well,” he murmured, voice filled with awe and lust. “Such a good girl for me.”

When the burn finally melted into aching pleasure, you rolled your hips experimentally.

“Move,” you whispered. “Please… ruin me.”

That was all it took.

Sir Jungkook’s control snapped completely. He pulled back and thrust into you hard, setting a deep, punishing rhythm. Jealousy and months of pent up desire fueled every powerful stroke. The wet, filthy sound of his thick cock slamming into your soaked cunt filled the tower, mixing with your loud, broken moans.

He was a knight sworn to protect the crown, now utterly ruining the very sovereign he had pledged his life to shield.

“Mine,” Sir Jungkook growled, biting down on your neck hard enough to leave a dark mark. “Not theirs. Never theirs.”

He ravished you relentlessly, claiming you, marking you. His mouth was everywhere: sucking bruises into your breasts, biting your collarbone, licking the tears from your cheeks. He pinned your wrists above your head again, hips snapping against yours with raw need.

You came hard the first time, screaming his name as your walls clenched violently around his thick length. But he didn’t stop. He took you through it, then flipped you onto your hands and knees, on the wide couch.

First, he worshipped.

The knight dropped to his knees behind you, his large hands spreading your cheeks reverently. He leaned in and pressed slow, open mouthed kisses along the curve of your royal backside, lingering presses of his lips that made your breath hitch. He kissed lower, then lower still, until his tongue dragged hot and wet over your soaked folds from behind.

“So beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, breath hot and heavy. “So divine. And yet I am going to ruin every sacred inch of you.”

Then the worship turned into ruin.

He rose, gripping your hips with white knuckled force, and thrust into you from behind in one deep, devastating stroke. You cried out sharply at the stretch, the thick length of his cock forcing your walls open, filling you so completely it stole your breath.

You sobbed in pleasure, fingers clawing at the cushions as he drove into you relentlessly. The power he exerted over you was intoxicating. this hardened warrior, dominating you utterly while still worshipping every tremble of your body.

“You belong to me,” he rasped, ruining you with slow, devastating strokes now. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you whimpered, voice breaking. “Only yours, Jungkook... ahh!”

By the third round, you were a sobbing, whimpering mess, tears streaming down your face from overwhelming pleasure, body covered in his marks, cunt swollen and dripping with your combined release.

He took you in every way he could: against the wall, bent over the couch, riding him as he sat on the edge of the seat, then finally on your back again with your legs over his shoulders as he drove impossibly deep.

All night long, the tower echoed with your moans, his deep groans, the obscene wet sounds of your bodies joining. He claimed you utterly and completely devoted.

When he finally came for the last time, buried deep inside you, he held you tight, spilling pulse after pulse of hot seed into your womb, filling you until you felt impossibly full, claimed from the inside out.

Sir Jeon Jungkook pressed his forehead to yours, his lips brushing against yours with every word.

“You command the entire kingdom, my lady,” he whispered reverently, “but here in this hidden place… you are mine to ruin.”

You could only tremble in his arms, utterly spent, legs wrapped around his waist, heart pounding wildly as the fire crackled beside you.

The weight of what you had just done, and what it meant for both of you settled uncomfortably in the air. But in that moment, wrapped in his powerful arms, marked and filled by your knight, nothing else in the kingdom mattered.

The days that followed were a delicate illusion of peace.

It was late morning when you found yourself in the secluded royal bathing pool fed by a gentle river, surrounded by floating lily pads and white blossoms that drifted lazily on the current. The water was warm, scented with rose and lavender oils poured in by your maids. Sunlight filtered through the overhanging willow branches, casting soft, dappled light across the surface.

You leaned back against the smooth stone edge, your long dark hair floating around you like ink in water. Your body still carried the secret marks of the previous night, faint bruises on your hips, love bites hidden beneath the waterline, and a persistent, delicious ache between your thighs that reminded you with every shift who had claimed you so thoroughly.

Your maids, Elara, Verra, and old, wise Selyse moved around you carefully. They had raised you since you were a babe, more mothers than servants. They knew you better than anyone.

Elara poured another stream of warm water over your shoulders, her sharp eyes catching the faint flush that still lingered on your cheeks.

“You are glowing again this morning, my lady,” she said lightly, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “One might think the moon itself had kissed your skin.”

Verra, younger and bolder, laughed softly as she massaged oil into your scalp. “Or perhaps a certain tall, dark eyed knight has been keeping you… well attended.”

You felt your face heat, but you couldn’t stop the small, secret smile that curved your lips.

Selyse, the eldest, clicked her tongue but her eyes were soft with affection. “Hush, you two. Our princess has always been radiant. Though…” she tilted her head, studying you, “there is a new light in her eyes these days. And a certain weariness in her step that speaks of long nights.”

You bit your lip, sinking a little lower into the water as lily pads brushed against your skin.

“It is nothing,” you murmured, though the flush in your cheeks betrayed you.

“Nothing?” Vera teased, wading closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially.

“We have seen you grow from a wild little girl into this breathtaking woman. We know your heart. And we know it does not belong to any of those puffed up princes parading through the halls.”

You reached out, squeezing Elara’s hand, then Verra’s, your voice dropping to a shy, trembling whisper.

“It is true,” you confessed, cheeks burning hotter than the midday sun. “I have given myself to Sir Jeon. Body and heart. He is the only man I have ever wanted. The only one who has ever touched me.”

For a heartbeat, silence fell over the bathing pool. Then came the gasps.

Elara’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth. Verra let out a delighted little squeak, nearly dropping the oil vial. Even old Selyse, usually so composed, looked momentarily stunned before her face broke into a warm, knowing smile.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Elara breathed, scandalized, thrilled. “You wicked little thing! With your own knight? Right under the King’s nose?”

Verra giggled uncontrollably, splashing water playfully in your direction. “And here we thought you were simply fond of him! All those late night ‘stargazing’ trips… you minx! Was he gentle? Was he… big?”

“Verra!” Selyse scolded, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. She turned to you with motherly affection. “Though I must admit, we have suspected for some time. The way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching… that man is utterly gone for you, my lady.”

You buried your face in your hands, mortified but unable to stop the shy, giddy smile spreading across your lips. Your gaze drifted across the river to where Sir Jeon Jungkook stood guard a respectful distance away, half hidden among the willow trees.

Even from here, you could feel the weight of his stare. He stood tall and imposing in his armor, but his dark eyes were fixed on you with a quiet, burning intensity that always made your stomach flutter.

You bit your lip, still flushed from both the warm water and the memory of his mouth, his hands, his body claiming you so thoroughly the night before.

“He is… everything,” you whispered dreamily, more to yourself than the maids. “Strong. Honorable. And when we are alone… he worships me like I am his entire world.”

Verra let out another delighted laugh. “As he should! Our princess deserves nothing less. Though if the King ever finds out…”

Selyse gently squeezed your shoulder, her voice softening with both love and concern.

“Then we will protect your secret as fiercely as we have protected you all these years,” she said. “You deserve to love who you love, my dear. Crown or no crown.”

You looked back at Sir Jungkook again. He hadn’t moved from his post among the willow trees, tall and steadfast in his armor, but your heart ached with a sharp mix of fear and wonder.

If The King ever discovered the truth, he would not spare your knight. Sir Jungkook would be banished, or worse. And you… you would be married off immediately to seal the wound.

The thought disturbed you deeply.

You turned back to the water, forcing a smile for your maids, but the warmth of the bath could no longer chase away the chill settling in your chest.

—

The rumors had begun to spread like fire through the palace corridors.

A lesser knight claimed he had seen “suspicious movement” near the eastern tower. One of the visiting princes mentioned, with a sly smile, that the Princess seemed unusually attached to her personal guard. Nothing concrete, nor proven. But the whispers were growing louder.

Your maids noticed your distraction immediately. During your morning dressing, Verra fastened the laces of your gown with unusually tight pulls, her voice urgent.

“My lady… you must be more careful,” she whispered. “Some of the king’s men have been asking questions about Sir Jeon. They say he spends too many nights away from the barracks. And one of Prince Min’s retainers swears he saw a tall figure slipping into your wing after midnight.”

Elara’s hands paused on your hair. “The knight is being cautious now. He avoids being seen with you as much. But you… you still look at him like he hung the moon. It is only a matter of time before the King hears something he cannot ignore.”

Selyse placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, her eyes full of love and worry. “You are playing with fire, sweet girl. And fire does not care how much you love it.”

Your heart clenched with fear. You hadn’t seen your knight alone in a week. He had been deliberately distant, protecting you both by keeping his distance. The absence gnawed at you like hunger.

That night, you sent for him under the pretense of needing extra security for a private walk in the inner courtyard.

The moment the hidden door to your chambers closed behind him, you were on him.

You pushed Sir Jungkook against the wall, frustration and fear pouring out of you in a desperate kiss. Your hands fisted in his tunic, tugging him closer.

“Where have you been?” you demanded between kisses, voice shaking. “I was scared. I thought something had happened to you. I thought my father had already—”

“I’m here,” he whispered against your lips, rough with emotion. He pulled you closer, arms wrapping around you. “I’m right here, my love.”

But then he pulled back slightly, forehead pressed to yours. His dark eyes were filled with pain.

“I cannot stay,” he said quietly. The words hit you like a blow. “Your father has ordered me to lead a company to the western borders. There have been reports of raiders. He says it is to prove my devotion to protecting the realm… and you. He also made it clear I can no longer linger so closely around you. The rumors are growing too loud.”

You stared at him, heart shattering.

“No,” you whispered, then louder, “No. You cannot leave me. Not now. Not after everything.”

Tears stung your eyes as the hurt poured out.

“After our first night, you pulled away. You kept your distance like I was poison. And now you’re leaving entirely? What if something happens to you out there? What if I lose you forever? I can’t take it, Jungkook. I won’t survive it.”

Your hands moved frantically, tugging at the straps of his armor with desperate, angry fingers.

“I don’t care about the king. I don’t care about the borders. I only care about you.”

Piece by piece, you stripped him. The armor fell to the floor with heavy clangs until he stood completely bare before you, broad chest, scarred skin, powerful frame looking every bit of the warrior he was. You shoved him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.

Sir Jungkook’s hands moved instinctively to the laces of your corset, trying to free you fully, but you slapped his hand away, tears already glistening in your eyes.

But the knight was patient. He sat up slowly, your legs still wrapped tightly around his waist, and gently cupped your face with both hands. His thumbs brushed away the tears on your cheeks with heartbreaking tenderness.

“My love,” he whispered, voice soothing, “Let me worship you. Let me take care of you tonight. Please.”

He leaned in and captured one of your sensitive breasts in his mouth, sucking slowly. His tongue swirled around your stiff nipple, drawing a shaky moan from you. He moved to the other, giving it the same devoted attention, sucking and licking until your back arched and fresh tears slipped down your cheeks, this time from overwhelming sensation and emotion.

Holding you close, then gently but firmly, Sir Jungkook leaned back, gripping your hips and guiding you upward. In one rapid motion, he pulled you over his face, settling you directly onto his waiting mouth. Your soaked folds pressed flush against his lips and tongue, your thighs framing his head as he looked up at you with pure hunger.

“Use me,” he growled against your dripping folds, the vibration sending sparks through your core. “Pleasure yourself on my tongue love. I want to drown in you.”

You hesitated for half a second, still shy and nervous, cheeks burning hot even as your body screamed for more. But the frantic ache between your legs won out. You lowered yourself more fully, your slick cunt sliding over his mouth, his nose buried against your clit. He groaned loudly, the sound muffled and obscene as he immediately speared his tongue deep inside you, licking and sucking at your juices like a man starved.

You started moving almost desperately, grinding down with frantic little rocks of your hips. Shyness still flickered in your chest, making you whimper and bite your lip, but the pleasure overrode everything. Your hands braced on the headboard as wet, filthy sounds filled the room, the slick slide of your cunt over his tongue, his eager slurping and moaning, the way he sucked your swollen clit between his lips and flicked it mercilessly.

“Oh gods...” you gasped. Your thighs trembled around his head as you grew bolder, grinding harder, smearing your arousal all over his face. He gripped your cheeks, spreading them, holding you down so you could use him exactly how you needed. His tongue ravished in and out of your dripping hole, then flattened to lap broad strokes from your entrance to your clit, devouring every drop.

But it wasn’t enough.

You lifted off his face with a wet pop, strings of your arousal connecting you to his glistening mouth. His eyes were dark, lips swollen and shiny with your juices. Before he could speak, you slid down his body impatiently.

You straddled his hips, wrapped your hand around his thick, throbbing cock, and sank down onto him in one frantic motion.

The stretch made you cry out, but you didn’t stop. You rode him hard, bouncing on his length with frantic, emotional need, your breasts bouncing heavily with every harsh drop of your hips.

“Don’t leave me,” you sobbed, riding him faster, tears falling onto his chest. “Please, Jungkook… I can’t lose you. Not after this. Not after you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

He thrust up to meet you, matching your desperate rhythm, his strong hands gripping your hips to guide you deeper.

“I don’t want to go,” he rasped, voice breaking with the same pain. “But I must. Your father commands it. I have to prove my loyalty… so I can stay by your side.”

You leaned down, kissing him messily through your tears, riding him like you could keep him here forever if you just moved fast enough.

“Then stay inside me,” you begged, voice cracking. “Fill me up. So deep that a part of you stays with me even when you’re gone. I want to carry you with me when they try to take you away.”

Sir Jungkook groaned deeply. His hands tightened on your hips as he suddenly flipped you onto your back, pinning you beneath his powerful body.

He made love to you then, with deep, devastating strokes that reached the very core of you. His mouth never left your skin, sucking marks into your neck, whispering promises between every thrust.

“You are mine,” he breathed against your lips, hips rolling deeply. “I will come back to you. I will fill you again and again until you swell with our future.”

You wrapped your arms and legs around him, clinging desperately as another orgasm built inside you. When it finally crashed over you, you sobbed his name, walls pulsing tightly around his thick cock.

Sir Jungkook followed right after, burying himself as deep as possible with a low, guttural groan. He came hard, flooding your womb with thick, pulsing ropes of his seed, holding you so tightly it felt like he was trying to merge your souls together.

Even after, he stayed buried inside you, pressing soft kisses to your damp forehead, your cheeks, your trembling lips.

“I don’t want you to go,” you whispered, small and broken. “I love you too much.”

Sir Jungkook pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his arms never loosening. “I know, my love,” he murmured. “And that is why I must return to you. No matter what.”

The weeks following Sir Jungkook’s departure had stretched into an endless gray fog.

You moved through your royal duties like a ghost wearing a crown. You sat through council meetings with a straight spine and a hollow smile, listening to nobles bicker about alliances, trade routes while your mind wandered back to your knight’s strong arms. Every night since, your bed felt too large, too cold. You would press your face into the pillow he had once used and fight the ache in your chest.

You missed him with a desperation that bordered on madness.

This morning was no different. You had barely kept your breakfast down before the maids helped you into a heavy velvet gown the color of deep wine for yet another assembly with potential suitors. The princes and lords from neighboring kingdoms were growing impatient. Your coronation was only a month away, and the pressure to choose a consort was mounting like a noose around your throat.

By midday, the nausea returned with a vengeance. You barely made it through the formal greetings before excusing yourself to the private solar, hand pressed to your mouth.

Elara followed quickly with a basin. You retched violently into it, eyes watering.

“Your Highness…” she whispered, rubbing gentle circles on your back.

“I’m fine,” you rasped, waving her away. “Just… something I ate.”

But it wasn’t.

Later that evening, after the day’s obligations were finally over, Vera and Selyse insisted on the usual massage to ease the tension in your shoulders. They helped you out of your gown until you lay on the wide cushioned table in nothing but a thin silk shift.

The moment Selyse’s skilled hands moved over your breasts, the older maid froze.

Verra, who was working on your legs, also stilled.

“…Your Highness,” Selyse said carefully, “Your breasts… they are fuller. Tender, yes?”

Your breath hitched. You had noticed it days ago but had tried to ignore the swelling, the sensitivity. The way even the softest fabric sometimes made you wince.

Verra’s hands gently pressed against your lower belly, not quite a touch, more an assessment. “And the sickness every morning… the fatigue… the way you’ve been crying in your chambers…”

Your eyes filled with tears. You turned your face into your folded arms, shoulders shaking.

Selyse knelt beside the table, taking your hand gently. “My lady… are you with a child?”

You didn’t answer at first. Then a broken sob escaped you.

“I think so,” you whispered. “I… I don’t know for certain, but the timing…” Your voice cracked. “It would be his. Sir Jungkook’s.”

Both maids exchanged a heavy glance. This changed everything.

Verra spoke softly, “My lady... with your coronation approaching. The lords are already circling like vultures, pushing their sons at you. If this comes out before you choose a prince…”

“I know,” you said, voice muffled. Fresh tears slipped down your cheeks. “I know what it means. But I can’t… I can’t just marry one of them. Not when I’m carrying the child of the only man I’ve ever loved.”

You sat up slowly, clutching the silk shift to your chest, arms wrapped protectively around your still flat stomach.

“My dear knight...” you sniffled. “He is out there fighting gods-know-what, and I’m here pretending to be the perfect princess while my body betrays our secret.”

Selyse brushed a strand of hair from your face with motherly tenderness. “We can hide it a little longer, Highness. Looser gowns. Ginger tea for the sickness. But you must decide soon what path you will take. The child… it will not stay hidden forever.”

You nodded, but your heart was breaking all over again. The thought of choosing one of those cold, ambitious princes while carrying Sir Jungkook’s child made you feel ill all over again.

Selyse pressed a kiss to the top of your head, her voice firm with loyalty. “We pray he returns soon, my lady. And until then, we will guard you and this little one with our lives.”

—

The weeks blurred into months as winter settled over the kingdom like a heavy white shroud. Snow blanketed the towers and gardens, turning the world soft and silent, yet inside your chest, the storm only grew louder.

Sir Jeon Jungkook had not returned.

Your belly had swelled noticeably now, a gentle but undeniable curve that marked the life growing within you. With the help of Elara, Verra, and Selyse, you hid it beneath layers of loose, flowing gowns and heavy cloaks lined with fur.

The rich fabrics concealed the truth for now, but you could no longer ignore the way your body changed, the tender fullness of your breasts, the occasional flutter of movement beneath your skin, and the constant, bone deep exhaustion.

You had begun excusing yourself from the suitors’ assemblies more frequently, claiming headaches or matters of state. But the King, grew increasingly impatient.

In the grand throne room one frost laced afternoon, he fixed you with a stern gaze as snow fell outside the tall windows. “You cannot delay any longer, daughter,” he spoke, heavy with royal command. “Prince Min of Viena is a strong candidate. The coronation is weeks away. You must choose a consort soon. The realm needs stability.”

You bowed your head, hands clasped tightly over your hidden belly beneath the voluminous velvet. “Yes, Father,” you murmured, the lie tasting like ash. Inside, your heart screamed for the only man you wanted.

Every few days, with your maids’ help, you sent letters. Verra would sneak them to a trusted rider, sealed with your private wax. You poured your soul onto the parchment; how much you missed him, the way your body was changing, the secret you carried, your love that only deepened with every passing day. Yet no responses ever came. The silence gnawed at you, feeding nightmares of him lying wounded on some distant battlefield or worse.

The worry became unbearable.

One bitter winter morning, wrapped in a thick hooded cloak that concealed your swollen middle, you slipped away from the castle with only Elara and Selyse accompanying you. The three of you rode through the snow dusted forest to a modest stone cottage on the outskirts of the kingdom, the home where Sir Jungkook had grown up.

When the door opened, an older woman with kind eyes and streaks of silver in her dark hair stood before you. Sir Jungkook’s mother. She froze at the sight of the princess on her doorstep, her hand flying to her chest.

“Your Highness…?” she whispered, stunned. “Surely I do not deserve to be blessed with your presence at my humble door. Please, come inside before the cold takes you.”

She ushered you, Elara, and Selyse quickly into the warm cottage, the scent of pinewood and baking bread wrapping around you like an embrace. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth as she helped you remove your snow dusted cloak. Only when you were seated by the fire did her gaze drop to the unmistakable swell of your belly beneath the loose gown.

You took a steadying breath, your hands resting protectively over your rounded stomach.

“I carry his child,” you said softly, trembling with emotion. “Your son’s. Sir Jungkook’s. He does not know yet… he has not returned, and I… I needed to feel close to him somehow.”

Jungkook’s mother, Maera, stood completely still for a long moment, her eyes wide with shock. Then her hand flew to her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes.

“Oh… gods above,” she breathed, her voice cracking. “A grandchild…? From my Jungkook?” Fresh tears flowed freely as she dropped to her knees in front of you, taking your hands in hers with deep reverence. “My lady… my princess. You honor me beyond words. You honor my son. To think that you, a royal daughter, would carry his child… I am stunned. Truly stunned. And so deeply moved.”

She pressed her forehead to your knuckles, weeping quietly with pure joy and emotion. When she lifted her head again, her eyes shone with fierce affection.

“You are already family to me,” she whispered. “Come here, sweet child.” She rose and pulled you into a warm embrace, cradling you gently as if you were made of glass. “You must be so frightened, carrying this secret alone while he is away. But you are not alone anymore. Not while I draw breath.”

You felt safe in her arms, the weight on your heart easing just a little as winter wind howled softly outside the cottage walls.

After composing herself, Maera wiped her tears and fetched a small wooden chest from a shelf. She sat beside you, opening it with trembling hands.

“Look,” she said tenderly, pulling out several treasured items. She showed you a faded sketch of a chubby baby with dark, serious eyes —Sir Jungkook as an infant. Another portrait showed him as a sturdy little boy of four, holding a wooden sword with determination. There was even a lock of his soft baby hair tied with a ribbon.

“He was always so intense, even as a babe,” she said with a watery laugh. “Strong and quiet… but when he smiled, the whole world lit up. Just like I imagine your little one will.”

You traced the portraits with gentle fingers, tears slipping down your own cheeks. Seeing these glimpses of him as a child made your love for the knight swell even deeper. You could so clearly picture your baby with his eyes, his strength, his rare smile. The thought made your heart ache with both joy and longing.

Maera kept one hand over yours, cherishing you openly. “Thank you for coming to me,” she murmured. “For trusting me with this precious news. We will wait for him together, my daughter. And when he returns, he will be the happiest man alive.”

The two of you sat by the fire for a long while — his mother and the mother of his child, talking softly as snow continued to fall outside, bound by love for the same man.

The days after your visit to Maera’s cottage only deepened the ache in your soul. Winter grew harsher, and so did your impatience. Every morning you woke with your hands on your swelling belly, feeling the strong kicks of his child, and the longing became unbearable.

One evening in the royal chambers, you fell to your knees before the King, tears streaming down your face. “Father, please… I beg you. Bring Sir Jungkook back. I need him. I cannot do this without him.”

The King frowned, confused by your desperation. “Daughter, he is leading my forces on the border. The realm needs him there. Why this sudden insistence on one knight?”

You could not tell him the truth. “I just… need him,” you whispered brokenly. “Please.”

He did not relent. The pressure to choose a suitor only intensified.

And then the sickness took hold.

Your body ached constantly. deep soreness in your back, hips, and breasts that made every movement painful. The baby’s kicks, once a comfort, now left you breathless. You grew feverish and weak.

Elara, Verra, and Selyse rarely left your side, forcing herbal teas and bitter medicines down your throat while piling warm blankets over you. For nearly a week you were bedridden, barely able to leave your chambers, hidden away from the court under the excuse of a winter chill.

One cold, silent night, as snow tapped gently against the window panes, you drifted in and out of a fevered haze. The herbs made the world soft and blurry around the edges.

You thought it was a dream when the heavy door to your chambers opened with a quiet creak and a tall, familiar figure stepped inside, shedding his snow dusted cloak. The firelight caught on his sharp jawline and those intense dark eyes.

Strong arms slipped beneath you, lifting you carefully as he climbed into your grand bed. A warm, calloused hand gently cradled your swollen belly. You felt the press of soft, reverent lips against the curve of your stomach.

“My love…” The knight’s deep voice whispered against your skin, rough with emotion. “I’m here. I finally came back to you.”

“Jungkook…?” you murmured drowsily, eyelids heavy, unsure if this was real or another cruel dream born of longing and medicine.

“It’s me,” he breathed, pulling your body flush against his solid chest. He was real. warm, solid, smelling of snow, leather, and the faint scent of campfires. “I’ve been aching for you every single day. Your touch, your voice… it kept me alive out there.”

His large hand stroked slow, soothing circles over your rounded belly, feeling the baby shift and kick beneath his palm. He lowered his head, pressing his lips directly to the taut skin.

You let out a tired, broken sound. “You left me… You promised you’d come back sooner. Look at me… I’m so sore, so heavy with your child, and you weren’t here…”

Sir Jungkook chuckled softly, the sound warm against your skin, even as his eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I know, my princess. I deserve your scolding. I’m deeply sorry.” He kissed your belly again and again, soft open mouthed presses wherever he could reach. Then he trailed his lips higher, attaching his mouth gently to the swollen, aching curve of your breasts, sucking lightly and kissing away the soreness with such care that you whimpered in relief.

His hands never stopped moving, massaging the deep ache in your lower back, cupping and gently holding your heavy breasts to ease their weight, stroking your hips and thighs. He intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand tightly as if afraid you might vanish.

“You are unreal, my love.” he murmured, voice hoarse with awe as he looked at you. “Your glow… it’s deeper now. The way pregnancy has changed you… you’re beyond anything I could have imagined. You shine like starlight. Carrying our child has only made you more radiant, more mine.”

You clung to him weakly, drowsy but desperate for his touch. “The baby… it kicks so much. I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl… but it feels like you. Strong and stubborn.”

Jungkook smiled against your temple, one hand still resting warmly over your belly. “This child is the product of our love. A piece of both of us. I already love them more than life.” He kissed you deeply, slowly, pouring months of aching into it. “Every battle, every cold night, I thought only of coming home to you like this… holding you, feeling our baby move, worshipping the body that’s creating our future.”

He continued kissing every place that ached... the sides of your breasts, the curve of your belly, the inside of your wrist, his mouth soft and devoted. You melted into him, the pain easing under his gentle care as he held you close.

“Stay…” you whispered tiredly, already slipping back into sleep.

“I’m here right now,” he promised, lips brushing your ear. “Sleep, my love. I’ve got you both.”

When morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, you woke slowly, body still aching but strangely comforted.

The bed beside you was cold. No warmth lingered. No cloak on the chair. No scent of him on the pillows. Only the faint memory of strong hands, whispered words to your belly, and soft kisses remained.

You touched your swollen stomach, feeling another firm kick, and tears filled your eyes.

Was it a dream? A fevered hallucination woven from medicine, longing, and love? Or had Sir Jungkook truly returned to you in the dead of night… only to disappear again before dawn?

The herbs and medicines your maids prepared worked their magic. The fever finally broke, the deep soreness in your body eased into a manageable ache, and the constant nausea faded. Though you were still tired, your strength slowly returned. Your belly continued to grow rounder and heavier, the baby’s kicks becoming more insistent and lively.

One quiet winter evening, when the moon hung full over the snow covered palace, your maids turned your chambers into a secret sanctuary.

Accompanied by Sir Jungkook’s mother, they had worked together in absolute secrecy. No one outside your trusted circle knew. They had decorated the large private solar adjacent to your bedroom with soft candlelight, evergreen boughs, and winter white roses. Warm furs and silk pillows were arranged in a luxurious nest near the hearth. Incense of myrrh filled the air, and a small table held gifts wrapped in fine cloth.

They helped you into a loose, flowing gown of the softest ivory silk that draped beautifully over your swollen belly, leaving your shoulders bare. When you stepped into the room, all four women bowed their heads in reverence.

Selyse took your hand and guided you to the center of the soft pillows. “Tonight we celebrate you, my lady. And the precious life you carry. No one else will know of this blessing. It is ours alone.”

They treated you with deep adoration, as though you were sacred.

Elara gently massaged your feet with warm scented oil while Maera brushed your hair until it shone. Verra offered you sweet honeyed fruits and warm spiced milk, foods meant to nourish both you and the baby. Selyse laid her hands lightly on your rounded belly and spoke soft blessings for a safe birth and a strong child.

Selyse, ever wise, placed a small crown of dried herbs and winter berries on your head. “You are the vessel of love and life,” she murmured. “Even in these uncertain times, you bloom. We honor you as our princess… and as the mother of Sir Jungkook’s heir.”

You felt tears prick your eyes as they presented their secret gifts: tiny embroidered blankets, a soft knitted cap in deep green, a small silver pendant shaped like a blooming rose, a symbol of motherhood.

Vera leaned her cheek against your belly for a moment, grinning when the baby kicked in response. “He or she is strong already. Just like their father.”

You placed both hands over your swollen stomach, feeling another firm flutter. The warmth of their love and the secret celebration soothed the constant ache of missing your knight.

“Thank you,” you whispered, “All of you. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Elara kissed your temple. “We will keep you and this little one safe until Sir Jungkook returns. And he will return.”

The warmth of the secret celebration lingered on your skin as you returned to your chambers that night. The maids had just helped you out of the ivory silk gown when a royal messenger knocked urgently.

“The King demands your presence immediately, Your Highness. In his private study.”

You had no time to prepare. Still glowing from the love and blessings of your maids, you wrapped yourself in a heavy velvet robe that concealed your very swollen belly and followed the messenger.

The moment you entered the study, the atmosphere turned icy. Your father stood behind his desk, several of your letters spread before him.

“Daughter,” he spoke, controlled. “I have given you time to come to me yourself. I know you have been sending letters to the front lines. To Sir Jungkook, specifically.” He turned to face you, his expression stern but not yet furious. “I know of your… admiration for him. Speak truthfully now. What is this attachment?”

Your throat tightened. This was the moment. With your belly heavy with his child and your heart aching, you could no longer hide everything.

“Father…” you began, voice trembling as you stepped closer. “It is more than admiration. I love him. Sir Jungkook is the only man I want.” Your hands instinctively moved to cradle your stomach. “And I… I am carrying his child.”

Silence crashed over the room.

The King’s eyes widened, then narrowed sharply as his gaze dropped to the unmistakable swell beneath your gown. His face darkened with shock, then rage.

“You what?” he hissed. “A knight’s bastard? While I have been parading princes before you? While the entire realm waits for you to secure the throne with a proper alliance?”

“Father, please,” you begged, tears filling your eyes. “It is his. Our love is real. If you would only let him return, we could—”

The King’s face twisted with fury. “You dare speak such filth to me? A royal princess swollen with a common knight’s bastard?”

You rebelled, voice shaking but defiant. “It is not filth. It is love. I will not marry Prince Min. I will not let you use me as a pawn for alliances while I carry the man I love’s child.”

“Enough!” The King slammed his fist on the table, making you flinch. “I have been patient with your childish infatuation, but this is treason against your bloodline. You will do as you are told! Your fate is sealed. You will marry Prince Min before the month ends.”

Later that same night, before your maids could even calm you, you found your most trusted rider in the stables. With tears streaming down your face and snow falling around you, you whispered your final message: “Tell him… tell Sir Jungkook that I will wait for him. No matter how long it takes. My heart is his alone. I will wait.”

The rider bowed and galloped into the night. No response ever came.

The next weeks were a nightmare.

Prince Min visited often, his eyes raking over your body with open lust and infatuation. He complimented your “ethereal glow”, clearly aroused by your pregnant form, but his arrogance disgusted you. He spoke openly of claiming the throne through you, of bedding you the moment you were his. You hated him with every fiber of your being.

You fought your father harder than ever, refusing to attend meetings with Prince Min, screaming that you would rather die than marry him. But the King had reached his limit.

One brutal afternoon, he summoned you again and placed a bloodied cloak and a forged letter before you.

“Sir Jeon Jungkook is dead,” he said flatly. “He fell in battle two weeks ago. This is proof.”

The world shattered.

You collapsed to the floor, a guttural sob tearing from your throat. The baby inside you kicked as if sensing your pain. From that moment, you broke completely.

You refused to eat. You barely slept. You stopped speaking, even to Elara, Verra, and Selyse who begged you through tears to think of the child. You lay in bed for days, staring at nothing, your once radiant glow fading into pale exhaustion. Your maids feared for both your life and the baby’s.

Despite how numb you had become, when your maids gently suggested taking you to Maera’s quiet home on the edge of the forest, you agreed without protest. You were taken there in secret under the cover of night.

Maera, a strong but grieving woman with the same dark eyes as her son, took you in without question. She cared for you with quiet hands and even quieter words. You didn’t speak much to her either, but you accepted her care wholeheartedly. After all, she was mourning the loss of her son, and you were mourning the loss of your lover and the father of your child.

The King, despite his fury, still sent guards to watch over you from a distance. You were still royalty, still carrying what he believed might be his grandchild. But you could only think of the protection you once had... the strongest, safest pair of arms that had ever wrapped around you.

You mourned deeply. But you couldn’t be completely selfish with a baby on the way, restless and eager to come into the world.

The labor came on a stormy night.

The pains started suddenly and violently. Maera and your maids worked frantically around you as you screamed and cried, gripping the sheets until your knuckles turned white. The King himself had ridden out in secret when he heard you had gone into labor, standing outside the cottage with a face pale with rare fear.

He didn’t know how to comfort you. He only knew one thing, his daughter was calling for her knight in her delirium.

Even though he viewed the child as the product of a sinful affair, something in him softened at the sound of your broken sobs. He could not lose you.

Inside the cottage, you gave birth to a baby girl.

She was small, chubby, with a shock of raven hair and big, dark eyes that looked exactly like her father’s. The moment the midwife placed her on your chest, fresh tears streamed down your face.

“She looks like him…” you whispered, hoarse and broken. “My little love… she has his eyes.”

You held her close, sobbing softly as the pain and grief mixed with a fragile, overwhelming love. Even in your exhaustion, you couldn’t stop crying. You believed Sir Jungkook was dead. The thought that your daughter would never know her father tore you apart.

Maera wept beside you, gently stroking your hair. “She’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Just like her mother.”

Outside, the King stood in the rain, waiting.

When the door finally opened and the midwife stepped out, he demanded to know if you and the child were alive. Upon hearing they both were, something in his hardened heart shifted.

He turned to his captain without a word and gave the order.

“Send riders to the western borders at once. Bring Sir Jeon Jungkook back. Tell him… his princess has need of him.”

It would take time. The borders were far, and the roads were muddy from the storms. A week, perhaps a month.

In the quiet warmth of the cottage, you held your newborn daughter against your chest, wrapped in soft linen.

You rocked her gently as she fussed against your breast, nursing hungrily. Your maids and Maera moved around you, bringing broth, fresh cloths, and ever soft words. But you barely spoke. The grief had hollowed you out.

“I wish you could meet your father,” you whispered to the baby one quiet night, voice cracking. Tears slipped down your cheeks as she latched on again. “He would have held you so carefully. He would have loved you more than anything in this world. He would have protected us both…”

Maera sat beside you, her own eyes red from mourning. She placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “He would have been so proud,” she said softly. “Of both of you.”

You could only nod, throat too tight to speak. The emptiness inside you felt endless. Every time the baby cried, every time she looked up at you with those familiar dark eyes, the pain returned like a fresh wound.

The King demanded your return to the palace, as you were still royalty, still bound to your father’s will despite carrying a child out of wedlock. He wrote letter after letter insisting you resume your duties and prepare for the inevitable marriage to Prince Min. You refused to answer most of them.

Your maids tried their best to comfort you, but even they could not reach the depths of your sorrow. The only light in your world was your daughter. Tiny, perfect, with Jungkook’s dark eyes and a tuft of raven hair. You held her constantly, whispering stories about her father, singing lullabies with a voice that often broke halfway through.

You mourned him deeply. The King had not even granted him a proper funeral. No rites. No chance to say goodbye. Just a bloodied cloak and a cold declaration.

One quiet evening, Maera left the cottage to fetch groceries from the nearby village. Your maids had been called back to the palace on the King’s orders, duties they could not refuse. For the first time in weeks, it was just you and your baby in the small, warm cottage.

You sat by the window, cradling her in your arms. She cooed softly, tiny fingers wrapping around yours as you gently rocked her. For a few precious minutes, you allowed yourself to smile a real, soft smile as you played with her little hands and kissed her forehead.

“My baby,” you whispered, “The loveliest babe. Don’t tell the queens and princesses, I think they’d be terribly jealous.”

The baby blinked up at you. “Oh, yes,” you continued solemnly. “Especially of those cheeks.”

You leaned back in the chair as exhaustion eventually won over you, your eyes growing heavy. With your daughter nestled safely against your chest, sleep claimed you quickly.

When you woke, the cottage was awfully quiet.

Your arms were empty.

Panic slammed into you like a physical blow. You shot upright, heart hammering wildly as you looked around the room.

The baby was gone.

“No… no, no, no...” you gasped, stumbling to your feet, voice rising into a broken sob. “Where is my baby?!”

You searched frantically, under the blankets, behind the chairs, near the hearth, terror clawing at your throat. Your mind spun with nightmarish possibilities. Had someone taken her? Had the King sent men to steal her away?

Then you saw him.

A tall figure standing near the doorway, cradling your daughter gently in his strong arms. She was sleeping peacefully against his chest, tiny fist curled into his tunic.

Your knees buckled.

It was Sir Jungkook.

He looked exhausted, travel worn, mud on his boots, shadows under his eyes, but he was alive. Real. His dark eyes met yours, filled with unbearable love and pain.

You stared at him, trembling violently, refusing to believe what you were seeing.

“No…” you whispered, shaking your head. “No, no, this isn’t real. You’re dead. They told me you were dead. This is another dream. You always come in my dreams and then you leave me again—”

Your voice cracked into a sob as you backed away, hands clutching your chest.

“You left me,” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “You left me and our child. I mourned you. I almost died mourning you. Please… don’t do this to me again. I can’t take another dream. I can’t wake up to find you gone again.”

Sir Jungkook’s face crumpled with anguish. He took one careful step forward, still cradling your daughter like the most precious thing in the world.

“My love,” he said hoarsely, voice breaking. “It’s not a dream. I’m here. I’m real. Your father… he lied. He sent me away to the borders to keep me from you. But I came back the moment he allowed it. I rode without stopping.”

You shook your head harder, tears falling faster, refusing to believe it even as your heart screamed at you to run to him.

“You’re dead,” you repeated, voice small and shattered. “You have to be dead… because if you’re not, then you let me believe it. You never answered my letters. Not one. I wrote to you every single day, pouring my heart out, begging you to come back to me, to our child… and you never...”

Fresh tears spilled down your cheeks as the pain twisted deeper.

“You were in on it, weren’t you?” you whispered, voice breaking. “You let my father tell me you were gone. You left me here to rot in grief while I carried your child alone. How could you?”

The knight’s face crumpled with agony. He took a step forward, but you flinched, and he stopped immediately, hands trembling at his sides.

Before he could speak, your daughter stirred in his arms. As if sensing the suffocating tension in the room, she let out a sharp, hungry cry, her little lips puckering, tiny fists waving.

You moved without thinking, reaching for her. Sir Jungkook gently handed her over, his hands lingering for a moment as if afraid to let go. You turned away from him, sitting on the edge of the bed and loosening your dress to feed her. The baby latched on eagerly, her cries softening into small, contented sounds.

The knight stood there, watching you in silence. He looked lost, this battle-hardened soldier, returned from war, now completely unsure how to comfort the woman he loved. He slowly lowered himself to his knees in the middle of the room, head bowed.

“I wrote to you,” he admitted hoarsely. “Every chance I had. Your father… he made sure none of my letters reached you. He wanted you to believe I was gone. I fought every day to come back to you. I almost died trying to get word to you.”

You didn’t look at him. You kept your eyes on your daughter, tears falling silently onto her soft hair.

“I mourned you like a widow,” you whispered, voice thick with pain. “I almost died. And now you’re here… acting like you didn’t abandon me when I needed you most.”

The words cut awfully deep. Sir Jungkook’s shoulders slumped, but he stayed on his knees, silent and respectful, giving you the space your wounded heart demanded.

Your daughter stirred in your arms, letting out a small, distressed whimper as if she could sense the storm raging between her parents. You rocked her gently, pressing a kiss to her soft raven hair.

“Shh, my sweet one,” you cooed softly, “Mama’s here. You’re safe.”

Sir Jungkook’s hands twitched at his sides, aching to reach out, to touch you, to hold both of you, but he remained still, jaw clenched tight. He was no longer in full armor, only a worn tunic and breeches, his appearance shambled from the long ride, fresh bruises blooming across his knuckles and jaw.

You turned away from him, focusing on the small tasks that had become your life in the cottage. The rain outside grew heavier, pounding against the roof like a relentless drum.

You moved about the space, stirring the pot of stew over the fire, folding fresh linens, anything to keep your hands busy and your mind from breaking completely.

Hours passed in heavy silence. When your daughter finally grew fussy again, you nursed her by the hearth until her little eyes fluttered shut. You laid her gently in the wooden cradle Maera had prepared, stroking her cheek one last time before covering her with a soft blanket.

Only then did you notice movement near the door.

Sir Jungkook was standing there, cloak in hand, quietly preparing to leave.

Something inside you fractured. You stepped toward him, voice cracking. “You’re leaving again?”

He turned slowly, eyes filled with torment. “I was only going to check the perimeter. The rain is heavy, and I… I didn’t want to burden you further.”

You stared at him, this warrior who had survived hell just to return to you, and the dam finally broke.

“Come here,” you whispered.

He obeyed without hesitation.

You led him to your bed and with trembling hands, you began removing his tunic, revealing the damage the war had left behind.

New bruises painted his ribs and shoulders in shades of purple and blue. Fresh scars, still healing, cut across his chest and abdomen. He looked harder, a man who had walked through fire and barely returned.

Your lips trembled, but you forced yourself to stay steady. You turned away briefly, gathering clean linen strips, salve, and a bowl of warm water. When you returned, the knight stood perfectly still, letting you see all of him, the bruises, the brutal evidence of everything he had endured just to return to you.

You began tending to him in silence, your hands gentle as you cleaned a particularly nasty cut along his side. But the more you looked, the more the dam inside you cracked.

“What have they done to you, Jungkook?” you whispered, voice breaking. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you carefully wrapped a bandage around his ribs. “You’re… you’re covered in pain. All of this… just to come back to me?”

He stood motionless, letting you care for him, but his dark eyes never left your face.

“I would go through it a thousand times more,” he said softly, “if it meant coming back to you and our daughter.”

You shook your head, fresh tears falling as you pressed a bandage over another wound. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that. I can’t bear thinking of you suffering like this. I thought you were dead. I thought I would never see you again, and now you’re here… broken because of me.”

Sir Jungkook slowly lowered himself to his knees in front of you, even though you were still trying to tend to him. The powerful knight, the man who had survived war, knelt before you like the loyal protector he had always been.

“Your Highness,” he murmured, head slightly bowed, voice thick with emotion. “I failed you. I wasn’t here when you needed me most. I wasn’t here when you carried our child. I wasn’t here when you gave birth. I wasn’t here when they told you I was gone. Forgive me.”

You dropped the bandages and pulled him into your arms, holding his head to your chest. His arms wrapped around your waist instantly, clinging to you like a man who had almost lost everything.

A broken sob tore from his throat.

Your knight, your warrior, the strongest person you had ever known, cried against your chest like a child. Deep, shuddering sobs that shook his powerful frame as his arms tightened around you.

“I thought I lost you,” he choked out, voice muffled against your skin. “Every night on the border, I prayed I would make it back to you. To both of you.”

You held him tighter, fingers threading through his raven hair, your own tears falling onto his head.

“You’re here now,” you whispered, rocking him gently. “You’re here. You came back to us. That’s all that matters.”

For a long time, the only sounds in the cottage were the rain outside, the crackling fire, and the quiet, heartbroken sobs of a knight who had finally returned to his princess.

—

The rain had not eased by the middle of the night. It hammered against the thatched roof like an impatient army. You had fallen asleep in Jungkook’s arms on the narrow bed, your daughter nestled safely in her cradle beside you. For the first time in months, your sleep was deep and dreamless.

A sharp knock on the cottage door shattered the peace.

Sir Jungkook was awake in an instant. He slipped from the bed silently, pulling on his tunic and reaching for the sword he had left by the door. His body was still tense from war, every muscle ready for threat.

“Stay here,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I will see who it is.”

But you already knew.

A cold certainty settled in your chest. You rose, wrapping a shawl around your shoulders, and followed him despite his warning. Your daughter stirred but remained asleep.

Sir Jungkook opened the door, sword half drawn, rain pouring behind the figure standing outside.

It was the King.

Your father stood in the downpour, cloak heavy with water, face pale and drawn. Guards waited at a respectful distance, torches flickering weakly in the storm. His eyes moved past your knight and landed on you.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

Then the King stepped inside without invitation, water dripping onto the wooden floor. His gaze softened when it fell on you — his only daughter, still pale from childbirth, carrying the weight of grief and motherhood.

“My child,” he said, voice rough. “You must return to the palace. You are still royalty. Still my blood. You do not belong in a cottage like this.”

You stood straighter, even as exhaustion and lingering pain made your body ache.

“I belong where I choose,” you replied quietly, but firmly. “And I will not return without Sir Jeon. He is my knight. He is the father of my daughter. He stays with me.”

The King’s jaw tightened. He glanced at Jungkook, who stood tall and silent beside you, sword now lowered but ready.

“I know what you are to each other,” the King said heavily. “I have known for some time. Prince Min is a fool and a coward, but his bloodline is strong. The alliance—”

“I will not marry him,” you cut in, voice steady despite the tears gathering in your eyes. “I will return to the palace. I will perform my duties as princess, as future queen. I will be the ruler this kingdom needs. But only if Sir Jungkook remains at my side. As my knight. As the man I have chosen. As the only man with any right to me.”

The King looked at you for a long time. He saw the woman you had become, not just his rebellious daughter, but a figure of quiet strength. The people in the surrounding villages spoke of you with reverence. They told stories of the princess who helped common women, shared food during hard winters, who listened to their troubles as if they mattered as much as any noble’s.

The King exhaled slowly, defeated but not broken.

“Very well,” he said at last. “Sir Jeon will return with you. He will remain your personal knight. But this… affair… must remain hidden from the court. For now.”

You nodded once, relief flooding through you.

The King’s gaze drifted to the cradle where your daughter slept. He had not yet seen her. You had kept her away from him, protecting her with every fiber of your being.

He took one hesitant step toward the cradle, then stopped, as if afraid.

The King’s shoulders sagged. For the first time in years, he looked truly old.

“Bring her home,” he said quietly. “Both of you. We will find a way.”

When the heavy door of the cottage finally closed behind your father, you let out a huge, shaky sigh. The weight of the conversation pressed on your chest like a stone. You turned and walked to the cradle, gently lifting your daughter into your arms. She stirred but settled quickly against your chest.

Sir Jungkook followed silently behind you, his presence warm.

“I would not trust him,” you whispered, voice laced with bitterness. “My father lied. He did all of this, told me you were dead, kept us apart, made me believe I had lost you forever. How can I believe a single word he says now?”

Jungkook stepped closer. He gently wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on the top of your head as you held your daughter.

“Petal,” he murmured softly, the old endearment slipping out like a balm. “Your father is a hard man, but he is not as cold as he pretends to be. He sent for me the moment he learned you had gone into labor. He could have kept me away forever. But he didn’t.”

You turned slightly in his arms, eyes wide with disbelief.

The knight continued, low and calm.

“There was one night… when you were still heavy with our child and very sick. I rode through a storm to reach you. Your father allowed it. He let me see you. I held you while you slept, fevered and restless. I whispered to you. I kissed your forehead and promised I would return. But I had to leave before dawn. He made me swear not to wake you. He said it would only make the pain worse when I had to go back to the borders.”

You stared at him, stunned. Tears welled up again.

“That night… it was real?” you whispered. “I thought it was a dream. I thought I imagined your arms around me.”

“It was real,” he said gently, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I was there. And I have regretted leaving you every single day since.”

You turned fully toward him, still cradling your daughter. The baby had woken and was fussing softly. You loosened your dress and began to feed her.

Sir Jungkook watched the two of you with such open love and longing that it made your chest ache.

“She has your eyes,” you said softly, brushing a finger over your daughter’s cheek. “So dark and beautiful. Just like yours.”

Sir Jungkook’s expression softened further. He reached out, gently stroking the baby’s tiny hand.

“And she is as beautiful as her mother,” he murmured. “I hope she grows to be as strong as her. As kind. As full of fire and love.”

For a while, the only sounds were the soft suckling of your daughter and the rain pattering against the roof. Sir Jungkook stayed close, one arm around your waist, the other lightly resting near the baby.

Eventually, after your daughter had fallen asleep again, you made the decision.

“We will return to the palace,” you said quietly. “Together. As a family. I will not hide anymore.”

The next morning, after tender farewells to Maera, who hugged you both tightly and kissed her granddaughter’s forehead with tears in her eyes, you left the cottage.

—

Three Months Later,

The palace had transformed around you.

After your return, the finest healers in the realm were summoned, learned men and women versed in herbs and ancient remedies. They tended to you with the utmost care, restoring the strength you had lost in grief and childbirth. Slowly, the hollow exhaustion faded. Color returned to your cheeks. Your body healed, and with it, your spirit bloomed once more.

You were treated not merely as royalty, but as something sacred. The people whispered that the Princess had returned more radiant than before, as if the earth itself had blessed her.

Your maids, Elara, Verra, and Selyse, were beyond ecstatic to have you back. They fussed over you constantly, brushing your long hair until it shone, dressing you in the finest silks, and whispering prayers of gratitude for your safe return.

The kingdom now knew the truth: the child was Sir Jeon Jungkook’s. The scandal had spread like wildfire, but instead of outrage, most of the people embraced it. They saw their princess glowing, and fiercely protected.

Prince Min had tried to slander you upon his return, calling you impure, unfit, a disgrace for bearing a knight’s child out of wedlock. Sir Jungkook had nearly killed him in the great hall before the King’s guards pulled him back. Prince Min was expelled from the kingdom that very day, the alliance shattered. No one mourned his departure.

It was a warm evening when you returned to the royal bathing pool, surrounded by floating lily pads and fragrant white blossoms. The water shimmered under the sunlight as your maids helped you undress. Your daughter, now three months old and full of life, babbled happily in Elara’s arms, reaching for you with chubby little hands.

“Come here, my sweet,” you cooed, taking her into the warm water with you. She immediately nestled against your bare chest, tiny fingers grasping at your long, wavy hair as you gently rocked her. She was a needy little thing, always wanting her mother’s warmth, her scent, her voice.

Verra smiled as she poured scented oil over your shoulders. “She adores you, my lady. Look at those big, bejeweled eyes.”

You glanced toward the far bank where Sir Jeon Jungkook stood guard, as always. He was no longer forced to hide. He remained your personal knight, ever watchful and devoted. His gaze met yours across the water, soft with love and quiet pride. He had become even more protective since your return, rarely leaving your side unless duty demanded it.

The King had grown strangely silent on the matter of your relationship. Seeing you flourish and beloved by the people, had turned him into something of a coward when it came to opposing you.

He doted on his granddaughter in private, though he still struggled to fully accept the circumstances. Yet he no longer pushed for any other marriage. He had seen what happened when he tried to separate you from your knight.

Bit by bit, your beauty had deepened into something almost otherworldly, skin luminous, eyes bright with life, a gentle fullness to your figure from motherhood that only made you more captivating. You moved through the palace performing your duties with grace while still finding time to help the common women who came to the gates seeking aid. You had become more than a princess.

At night, when the palace slept, Sir Jungkook was yours completely.

He would slip into your chambers, shed his armor, and worship you with slow hands and mouth. He made love to you like a man who had walked through hell and returned only for this. You clung to him every night, whispering how much you loved him, how you had chosen him long before the crown ever mattered.

Your daughter babbled softly, pulling at your long hair again with her tiny fist, drawing a soft, delighted laugh from you.

“Oh, my little one,” you cooed, gently untangling her fingers from your waves before pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. “You are going to pull Mama’s hair right off if you keep that up, aren’t you? Such a strong little flower.”

She giggled in your arms, reaching up to pat your face with her small, uncoordinated hand, her big dark eyes, exact replicas of her father’s, sparkling with pure joy. The resemblance was almost startling even at such a young age. She was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

Elara sighed dreamily as she poured warm water over your shoulders. “Look at her, my lady. She is perfection. She already has the whole palace wrapped around her tiny finger.”

Verra nodded, gently massaging oil into your hair. “And you, my princess. You glow like the sun itself these days. Motherhood suits you more than any crown ever could.”

Selyse, ever the wise one, glanced toward the bank where Sir Jeon Jungkook stood guard, fully armored but with his helmet removed today. A small, teasing smile tugged at her lips.

“And that one over there… he can’t take his eyes off the two of you. Look at him, standing there like a lovesick fool in steel. Our fierce knight, brought to his knees by a baby and her mother.”

The knight’s ears turned faintly red, but he didn’t deny it. His gaze remained soft, locked on you and your daughter with quiet awe and devotion.

Later that evening, in the royal rose gardens where he had once walked beside you as your new knight, Sir Jungkook carried your daughter in his arms.

He was still in full armor, crimson cloak draped over his broad shoulders, but he held her with such careful gentleness it made your heart melt. The baby was dressed in the softest cream colored gown embroidered with tiny golden flowers, a little bonnet tied under her chin. She looked like a living doll against his armored chest.

She reached up with both hands, grabbing at the edge of his armor, babbling excitedly as she tried to pull herself closer to his face. When he leaned down, she patted his cheek with a wet, sloppy kiss.

Sir Jungkook’s entire expression softened into something almost boyish. He smiled, genuine and devastatingly handsome.

“My little love,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

You walked beside them, heart full as you watched your daughter play with the buckles on his armor. Every time he lowered his head to let her see his face, she lit up. But when he playfully put his helmet back on for a moment to tease her, she immediately fussed, letting out a small, indignant cry and reaching for him with both arms.

“No helmet,” you laughed softly. “She hates it. She wants to see her father’s face.”

Sir Jungkook removed it immediately, tucking it under one arm while cradling her with the other. He leaned down so she could press her tiny palms against his cheeks and give him another sloppy kiss on the jaw.

The maids watching from a distance cooed and teased him lightly.

“Look at that,” Verra whispered loudly enough for him to hear. “Who would have thought the man who survived the western borders would be brought down by tiny hands and gummy smiles?”

Later that night, the heavy oak door to your royal chambers was barred, only the soft glow of candles and the low fire in the hearth illuminated the room.

You stood before the tall mirror, slowly changing into your nightgown. The fabric whispered against your skin as it slid down your body. Your gaze caught on the beautiful ring on your finger, the one Sir Jungkook had slipped onto your hand in secret weeks ago, a quiet promise between the two of you. You turned it gently, a small, private smile touching your lips.

Your daughter lay nestled against your bare chest, warm and content, her tiny fingers curled around the edge of your loosened gown. She babbled softly, her big dark eyes full of adoration for her mother.

Sir Jungkook stood a few steps behind you, fully armored except for his helmet, watching the two of you with quiet awe. The firelight danced across his face, highlighting every healed scar and the lingering shadows of war that still clung to him.

You gently laid your daughter in her ornate cradle, pressing one last kiss to her forehead as she drifted into sleep. Then you returned to the mirror, picking up the silver brush to run it through your long, wavy hair.

Sir Jungkook followed without a word. He stopped behind you, his large hands resting lightly on your waist. Slowly, he leaned down and began pressing soft kisses along your bare arms, from shoulder to wrist, as you continued brushing your hair.

You giggled softly, cheeks flushing with that familiar shyness even after all this time.

“Jungkook…” you murmured, breathy. “You ought to distract me.”

“Good,” he whispered against your skin, kissing the curve of your shoulder. “I have missed you all day. I need my darling.”

He dropped to his knees behind you with a quiet clink of armor, bowing his head in his familiar, devoted way. You turned to face him, running your fingers through his raven hair, then tracing the sharp line of his jaw and the faint scars that remained on his face.

You saddened for a moment, remembering the brutality he had endured.

But he looked up at you with such pure worship that it took your breath away. To him, you were more than a princess. you were his salvation, the very source of life that had healed him.

You pulled him closer, and he rose, lifting you effortlessly into his arms and carrying you to the grand bed.

The knight laid you down gently, then began to worship you with slow, reverent hands. He unlaced your nightgown with painstaking care, peeling the silk away until you were bare before him. His mouth found your breasts immediately, sucking softly on one sensitive nipple, then the other, drinking the sweet milk that flowed for him with deep, grateful groans.

You moaned softly, fingers threading through his hair as he fed from you, his tongue swirling, lips sealed tight around your peak. He drank like a man who had been starving for you, savoring every drop as if it were the very essence of life itself.

Sir Jungkook groaned deeply against your breast, the sound vibrating through your chest as he drank almost desperately. His large hand cradled the soft weight of your breast, squeezing gently to draw more from you while his other hand stroked your side with reverent tenderness.

“So sweet,” he whispered against your skin, voice hoarse and worshipful. “You give me life, my petal. You heal what war tried to break.”

You whimpered, arching into his mouth, overwhelmed by the intimate, sacred act, fresh heat blooming between your thighs.

When he finally released your nipple with a wet pop, his lips glistening, he looked up at you with dark, adoring eyes.

“You are my salvation,” he murmured, kissing the valley between your breasts before moving lower. “The mother of my child. The light that brought me home.”

When he finally moved lower, he spread your thighs with firm hands and settled between them. He looked up at you once, eyes dark with devotion, before lowering his mouth to your core.

He worshipped your flower, seeking nectar with slow, deep licks that made your back arch, followed by gentle suction on your swollen clit. His tongue delved inside you, tasting every inch, groaning at your sweetness as if it were the most sacred thing he had ever known.

You whimpered and moaned, hips rolling against his handsome face as pleasure built in waves. He was relentless yet tender, bringing you to the edge again and again before letting you tip over.

When you finally begged for him, voice trembling with need, Sir Jungkook rose above you like a knight before his altar.

He did not rush. Instead, he sat back on his heels, dark eyes drinking in every inch of your bare, flushed body with such raw hunger that it made your skin burn. You felt vulnerable and impossibly desired under that gaze. A shy, breathless giggle escaped your lips as heat flooded your cheeks.

Sir Jungkook reached out with one large, calloused hand and traced a single finger slowly down your body, from the delicate line of your throat, between your heaving breasts, over the soft curve of your belly, and down to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The touch ever so feather light, yet it left fire in its wake.

“You are a goddess made flesh,” he whispered, voice hoarse with awe. “And I am but a mortal who has been granted the honor of kneeling at your feet.”

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to your thigh in a gesture of pure worship, eyes closed, breath warm against your skin as if he were praying to the only deity he had ever believed in.

Then he moved over you, settling between your spread thighs. His thick cock pressed against your entrance, hot and heavy. He looked into your eyes as he slowly pushed inside, inch by thick, stretching inch, filling you so completely that your mouth fell open in a silent cry.

You dug your nails into his back as he began to move, first slow and loving, then harder, deeper, claiming you with every thrust.

“I love you,” he groaned against your neck, hips snapping forward. “I love you more than life itself.”

When you came, it was with his name on your lips and tears of overwhelming pleasure in your eyes. Jungkook followed moments later, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a low, broken groan, filling you with pulse after pulse of his release.

In the quiet that followed, with the knight’s arms still wrapped around you and the weight of the world momentarily forgotten, it was strangely easy to remember the day he had first knelt before the throne.

The impenetrable knight clad in steel, sworn to protect a princess draped in silk. and protect you he would, as though it had been carved into the marrow of every breath he would draw, for eternity.

editing thid in a few hours. thankyou so much for reading!! comments and reblogs are very much appreciated mwah love you all 🫶💋

[ggukiebar]

sex tape | j.jk

pairing: videographer jungkook x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 12.7k

summary: looking for a decent job, you stumbled upon jungkook’s job posting on instagram, what could go wrong?

warnings: playfuldom!jungkook x fem reader, explicit sexual content, clit rubbing, pussy eating, edging, spitting, degradation, dirty talk, multiple positions, detailed smut, jk is very playful in a degrading way, oral sex, camera sex, pussy slapping, choking, praising, usage of slut, cum eating, marking, multiple orgasms, rough sex, crying, overstimulation, fingering, nipple spitting, penetrative sex, creampie.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂˚₊┈┈୨୧┈┈‧₊˚⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂

“How about being a barista again? There’s a job opening at Moonlit Cafe down the street,” Hari suggested while you sat hunched over your laptop, endlessly browsing through job postings.

You were still a student, graduating next year with bills clawing at your throat. When college started, you wanted independence so badly it ached beneath your skin. An apartment near the university. Your own keys. Your own groceries. Your own life.

Your parents had offered to cover everything without hesitation, gentle and loving as always, but guilt settled heavily in your chest whenever you thought about it. They were already paying your tuition fees. You wanted them to live comfortably too, without worrying about whether their daughter had enough money for rent or food. So you smiled and told them not to worry, drained your savings account for the apartment, and picked up multiple part-time jobs just to prove to yourself that you could survive on your own.

And for a while, you did.

The first two years of college went smoothly enough. You found decent jobs, saved enough money to live comfortably, and even bought yourself a flat-screen TV after months of careful budgeting. Your days blurred into exhausting routines—classes in the morning, shifts at the coffee shop at night, and weekends spent organizing shelves as a bookstore assistant.

You were tired all the time, but it was a satisfying kind of tired. The kind that made you feel accomplished. 

Independent. Adult.

Until the coffee shop let you go.

Budget cuts, they said apologetically, avoiding your eyes while handing you the notice. Part-time workers were the first to go.

You still had the bookstore job, but the pay barely stretched far enough to cover groceries, let alone rent, electricity, and university expenses. Asking your parents for help would’ve been easy—too easy—but stubbornness rooted itself deep inside you. There were thousands of job postings online. Surely one of them would take you.

Only they never called back.

Two months had passed, and your savings were bleeding out faster than you could stop them. Every day followed the same suffocating routine: school, assignments, cheap instant dinners, and hours of doom-scrolling through applications until your vision blurred from the brightness of your screen.

You groaned quietly, rubbing your tired eyes before glancing over at Hari, who sat cross-legged beside you on the couch with a milk tea in hand. She had shown up at your apartment earlier carrying takeout bags and your favorite boba, worry written plainly across her face after noticing how little you’d been eating lately.

“I already applied there,” you muttered with a pout, dragging your gaze back to the laptop. “But they want someone full-time.”

Hari sighed dramatically, setting her drink down on the coffee table. “You seriously need to rest. You’ve been staring at that thing for hours.”

Before you could protest, she grabbed your boba and pushed it into your hands. The cold plastic pressed against your palms pleasantly.

“Drink,” she ordered. “And let me do the scrolling before you spiral into another existential crisis.”

A laugh bubbled out of her as she pulled the laptop from your lap, and despite the anxiety twisting endlessly inside your chest, you felt your shoulders loosen just a little.

You pouted lightly, sipping your boba while Hari busied herself with your laptop. Your brows slowly furrowed when you noticed her opening tab after tab with alarming confidence.

“Why are you on Facebook?” you asked with a quiet chuckle, watching her click somewhere else before another page loaded. “And now Twitter? Instagram too?”

Hari rolled her eyes dramatically, her face illuminated by the screen’s pale glow. “Because the jobs on LinkedIn are painfully boring,” she scoffed. “There are tons of part-time job offers on social media. I swear I saw one yesterday.”

She narrowed her eyes at the laptop suspiciously, scrolling with the intensity of a detective solving a murder case.

A laugh escaped you as you leaned against her shoulder, chewing on the tapioca pearls you had missed more than you cared to admit. You’d been saving every spare dollar lately, cutting out small comforts one by one until even buying boba started to feel irresponsible.

“But you don’t even know if those are legit,” you pointed out, tilting your head at her. “The sites I applied to are safer from scams and stuff.”

“I know,” Hari replied instantly. “That’s why we’re looking for jobs with a pay-first policy if it’s online.” She clicked onto another account before adding casually, “And if it’s onsite, we’ll bring a gun in case things go wrong or something.”

You burst out laughing at that, nearly choking on your drink.

“Hari!”

“What?” she laughed too, grinning shamelessly. “I’m just being prepared.”

You shook your head at her usual nonsense, warmth blooming faintly in your chest despite the stress that had been suffocating you for weeks now. Hari always had a way of dragging you out of your own head, even if only for a little while.

The apartment suddenly felt less heavy with her around.

You were honestly relieved that semester break had finally arrived. One whole month without classes. No early morning lectures. No deadlines. No professors piling work onto your shoulders.

But instead of resting like a normal person, you had thrown yourself deeper into job hunting.

Hari hated that.

As your closest friend, she had spent the last week trying to convince you to take a break—to go shopping with the girls, take an out-of-town trip, do literally anything that didn’t involve staring at job applications until three in the morning.

You declined every single invitation.

Your friends understood your situation, but they also thought you were driving yourself insane. Which, honestly, you probably were.

That was exactly why Hari showed up tonight carrying your favorite food and overpriced boba tea, determined to drag you away from your spiral. She kept trying to tempt you into going on a girls’ trip with them, insisting that one weekend away wouldn’t kill you.

But every time you thought about relaxing, all you could picture were your bills piling quietly on the kitchen counter. So instead, you stayed curled up on the couch beside her, stubbornly searching for a job you desperately needed.

Hari was beginning to look almost as desperate as you. Maybe not for herself, but for you—for the way your shoulders had slowly grown heavier these past few months, for the exhaustion permanently shadowing your eyes. She wanted you to land a job already so you could finally breathe again without worrying about rent and unpaid bills swallowing you whole.

Which was exactly why she was now doom-scrolling through Twitter with frightening determination.

“I really don’t think you’re gonna find a job there,” you muttered skeptically, watching her open an alarming amount of random threads. “Most of those look like scams.”

“Wait, wait—look at this!”

Hari suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to the screen, quickly setting her milk tea down beside her like she was preparing for something serious.

Her eyes widened.

“Okay, this one actually looks promising.”

You leaned in slightly as she read aloud.

mnijungkook on ig posted: i’m looking for someone who can take insanely good videos and photos [of me]. i’ll somehow figure out the equipment myself..! please somehow reach out to me! lol, looking for someone to film for me, seriously. and if you’re good at editing too? let’s go on tour together

“There are so many likes and retweets,” Hari said immediately, already opening another tab to search for the original Instagram post. “This has to be legit.”

The second you recognized the username, you nearly choked on your drink.

Laughter burst out of you uncontrollably, your shoulders shaking as you clutched the cup tighter. Hari blinked at you in confusion while your eyes watered from laughing too hard.

“Hari,” you wheezed out, “That’s Jungkook.”

She stared blankly. “Huh? The boss?”

Another laugh escaped you.

Hari genuinely knew almost nothing about K-pop or Korean artists in general, and moments like this always reminded you just how different the two of you were.

Meanwhile, you had once been painfully obsessed.

You used to stay up until dawn watching livestreams, memorizing lyrics, collecting photocards you definitely couldn’t afford, and keeping up with every tiny update posted online. Back then, being a fan felt like a second full-time job.

But life eventually became busier.

School consumed your mornings, work consumed your nights, and somewhere in between surviving deadlines and paying bills, your fangirl phase quietly faded into the background. You still listened to their music almost daily, still smiled whenever one of their songs shuffled into your playlist, but you no longer kept up with every post or appearance the way you once did.

You guessed you had simply grown up.

Even so, seeing Jungkook casually asking for a videographer and editor on Instagram felt surreal enough to make you laugh all over again.

Not updated enough to know that Jungkook was apparently posting job offers on Instagram now. Or that he was even on tour.

“No,” you laughed, shaking your head as you finally calmed down a little. “That’s Jungkook. From BTS. They’re, like… insanely famous, Hari. This is probably some kind of joke or publicity thing.”

Hari’s brows knitted together in confusion before realization slowly dawned across her face. She clicked onto the Instagram profile, eyes widening at the blue verification check and the terrifying number of followers sitting beneath his username.

Nearly thirty million.

“Ohhh, BTS,” she murmured thoughtfully. “Wait—I think I’ve seen him before.” She squinted at one of the photos. “Wasn’t he in a Calvin Klein ad or something?”

You snorted. “Yeah. That’s him.”

Honestly, you expected her to laugh it off after realizing who posted it. Maybe call the idea ridiculous and move on to another job listing.

Instead, Hari clicked onto his Instagram story again with alarming seriousness.

“That means…” she trailed off.

“It’s probably a joke,” you interrupted immediately.

“This is good pay,” she said at the exact same time, eyes practically glittering now.

Before you could stop her, she pressed the reply button beneath the story.

Your lips parted slightly. You genuinely couldn’t tell if she was being serious or completely delusional right now. Probably both. But either way, you let her continue typing because there was absolutely no chance Jungkook himself would ever see it.

He probably received thousands of messages every minute. Millions, even.

The thought alone felt ridiculous.

“Whatever,” you muttered with a helpless chuckle, giving up entirely. “I’m heating up the rice bowl.”

Hari waved you off distractedly, already multitasking between your laptop and her phone like this had suddenly become her personal mission.

You shook your head fondly before standing from the couch, grabbing the takeout container she bought earlier. The apartment filled with the quiet hum of the microwave a moment later, warm light spilling across the tiny kitchen while Hari continued aggressively applying for a job that definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent was never going to happen.

-

You woke up to the shrill sound of your alarm, already preparing yourself for another long day of job hunting.

Hari went home late last night after spending an absurd amount of time DMing Jungkook and scrolling through social media for more “opportunities,” as she called them. Somewhere between laughing at ridiculous job listings and sharing takeout on your couch, the two of you ended up watching an old Disney movie to help you relax.

She still tried convincing you to go on the girls’ out-of-town trip. You still refused.

No matter how badly you wanted a break, your priorities were painfully clear right now. You needed stability first. A stable paycheck. A stable life. Then maybe you could afford to breathe.

After showering, you made yourself a decent cup of coffee and opened your laptop with a tired sigh, mentally preparing to send out another batch of applications that probably wouldn’t get answered.

Then your phone buzzed beside you. An Instagram notification lit up the screen.

You snorted softly to yourself. “This must be Jungkook,” you joked under your breath, absentmindedly opening the app.

What the fuck.

Your heart nearly stopped when you saw the message sitting in your inbox. The coffee suddenly tasted bitter in your mouth.

What the actual fuck?

“Hari!” you practically shrieked the second she answered your call. “Fuck! I don’t even edit videos! I only know basic stuff! I can’t even record properly without my hands shaking!”

You paced around your apartment while panicking into the phone, one hand gripping your hair as you reread the messages over and over again in disbelief.

Sometime after you went to the kitchen last night, Hari had apparently taken it upon herself to completely ruin your life.

She sent Jungkook your entire curriculum vitae.

Not only that—she also wrote and attached a full cover letter explaining why he should hire you.

The realization alone nearly made you pass out.

And when you discovered she had changed your insta profile picture into a formal-looking one while you weren’t paying attention?

You almost laughed and cried at the same time.

It genuinely looked like you had desperately prepared for this opportunity your entire life.

Your eyes skimmed through the cover letter again, horror slowly mixing with something embarrassingly emotional. Hari had written your entire backstory in there—about struggling financially, balancing school and work, trying to stay independent despite everything.

And then she started lying. Blatantly.

Apparently, according to Hari, you were “highly skilled in video editing” with “experience in cinematography.”

Cinematography my ass.

“Hehe… well,” Hari giggled shamelessly through the phone, completely unbothered by your spiraling. Noise echoed behind her, voices and music blending together enough for you to realize she was already with the girls on their trip. “You have to fake a few things to get accepted sometimes, right?”

“Ugh, I can’t do this!” you cried dramatically, pacing back and forth around your apartment while gripping your phone tightly. “I literally don’t know anything about filming! And what if he sues me for faking my skills? He’s famous and influential, Hari!”

Your eyes darted back toward your laptop sitting open on the table, Jungkook’s message glowing on the screen like a ticking time bomb ready to ruin your entire life.

Hari only laughed harder through the call.

“Girl, just try!” she said between giggles. “Watch a tutorial on YouTube or something. Besides…” her tone suddenly turned suspiciously persuasive, “It’s really good pay.”

“Hari!” you screamed again, horrified.

“God, I still can’t believe he actually replied to you,” she continued teasingly. “You must’ve impressed him with your amazing cinematography skills.”

You groaned so loudly you nearly scared yourself.

The worst part was that she wasn’t wrong about the pay.

Your eyes had nearly bulged out of your skull when you saw the amount attached to the offer. There were so many zeros that your brain genuinely short-circuited for a moment.

That was exactly why you couldn’t let it go.

Out of everyone who probably replied to his story, Jungkook somehow answered you. 

You. The probability alone felt absurd.

Thousands of people would kill for this opportunity right now, and meanwhile you were pacing around your apartment like you were preparing for a court trial instead of a job offer.

At first, the teenage fangirl buried deep inside you nearly exploded from excitement. The situation dragged you back to years ago—staying up until four in the morning streaming music videos, binge-watching funny compilations, memorizing choreography you could never actually dance, spending money you absolutely shouldn’t have spent on albums and photocards.

Back then, BTS had practically consumed your life. But time passed.

Somewhere between work shifts, college deadlines, and trying to survive adulthood, you slowly stopped keeping up with them. You still listened to the music, of course, but you no longer knew where they were, what they were doing, or how much they had changed over the years.

Curiosity eventually got the better of you. So you stalked Jungkook’s Instagram a little.

And oh.

Oh, he had changed.

A full sleeve of tattoos now wrapped around his right arm, dark ink decorating skin that used to be bare. Silver piercings glinted against his face in ways that somehow suited him unfairly well. His frame had broadened too, shoulders stronger, body lean and built with the kind of maturity that made him almost unrecognizable from the boy you remembered.

You were used to soft brown hair, oversized hoodies, black skinny jeans, clean arms, and those wide doe-like eyes that made the entire internet lose their minds.

Now he looked mature. Sharper. More dangerous somehow.

A man instead of a boy. And annoyingly enough, it looked really good on him.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself, finally realizing you’d been staring at a motorcycle video he posted for far too long.

You immediately locked your phone and pressed it dramatically against your forehead.

“I cannot fangirl right now or I’m seriously gonna lose it.”

Hari kept telling you to just go for it. “You literally have a whole month off from school,” she argued over the phone while you spiraled for the hundredth time. “This is basically the perfect sideline job.”

Sideline job. As if working for Jungkook of BTS was equivalent to tutoring kids after class.

Your stomach twisted anxiously as you stared at the message again. Every second that passed made you feel like the opportunity was slipping farther away. With the amount of people probably flooding his inbox right now, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t change his mind the moment someone actually qualified replied to him.

Your eyes skimmed over his message again, pulse quickening embarrassingly fast.

mnijungkook: hey, i saw your cv ㅎㅎ you really didn’t have to explain everything, but i’m glad you did. i can tell you’re being genuine about this. even without samples, the way you talked about cinematography/editing made me feel like you actually care about it and pay attention to details. sometimes that matters more to me than someone trying too hard to look “professional”

also i get the whole semester break thing. a month is still enough time to try something fun and see if we work well together

don’t stress too much about equipment either because i barely know what i’m doing there yet lol

for payment, don’t worry. if you end up coming with me, i’ll make sure you’re paid well — probably around $20-30k usd for the month depending on the schedule + travel and hotel covered. 

send me your contact info? we can talk more properly :))

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“I am not passionate about cinematography,” you nearly whimpered to yourself, dropping your face into your hands. “To hell with cinematography.”

The amount of lies in Hari’s cover letter was genuinely evil.

And now Jungkook thought you were some hidden creative genius with an artistic eye and a deep love for filmmaking when in reality you barely knew how to stabilize a phone camera.

You felt sick.

But then your eyes drifted back to the payment offer. Twenty to thirty thousand dollars. Travel covered. Hotels covered. Your bank account practically screamed at you to shut up and take the opportunity.

So with trembling fingers and the overwhelming sensation that you were actively ruining your own life, you began typing a reply. A reply that dug your grave even deeper.

You agreed with him. You agreed that you were a “good editor.”

You added your contact details while simultaneously praying that YouTube tutorials could somehow transform you into a professional videographer overnight.

Your fingers hovered above the send button before you forced yourself to press it.

You: thank you so much for even considering me :D i really do believe i’m a good editor, especially when it comes to making things feel natural and cinematic instead of overdone. 

i’d genuinely love to work for you if you’ll have me. i’m willing to learn fast, adjust to whatever style you want, and work hard during the whole month of my semester break.

my contact details are below, thank you so much!

The message was sent instantly.

You stared at the screen in silence afterward, horror slowly settling into every inch of your body.

Yeah. You were doomed.

-

“Wow, what the hell.” Your eyes widened the second you stepped into the hotel room Jungkook had booked for you.

The past few days had moved so fast it almost gave you whiplash. After you sent your contact details, Jungkook immediately messaged you about schedules, filming dates, locations, and travel arrangements as if hiring strangers from Instagram was a completely normal thing for him to do.

Everything had already been prepared before you could even panic properly.

Your plane ticket? Booked.

Hotel room? Paid for.

Transportation? Arranged.

Food allowance? Included.

All you had to do was pack your bags and somehow learn how to film and edit professionally before embarrassing yourself on an international scale.

Easy.

“I am so spoiled,” you muttered in disbelief, slowly stepping farther into the room. It was huge.

Bigger than huge, honestly. The hotel suite looked almost the size of your apartment back home, warm lighting spilling across polished floors and neatly arranged furniture that looked far too expensive for you to even breathe near.

Then your attention landed on the large table sitting near the windows. And your soul nearly left your body.

Equipment. So much fucking equipment.

Two massive black cameras rested neatly beside a smaller handheld one. There was an iPad, a laptop, tripods, microphones, chargers, lighting equipment, and cables so intimidating they looked like they belonged inside a spaceship instead of a filming setup.

Your luggage slipped from your fingers onto the floor with a dull thud as you walked toward the table cautiously, like the devices might explode if you touched them incorrectly.

Your eyes widened even more.

For the past several days, you have been desperately teaching yourself how to edit videos and film cinematic shots. Watching tutorials until sunrise. Memorizing transitions. Learning random camera terms you barely understood.

But you had been practicing with your phone. Your fucking phone.

Meanwhile these cameras looked expensive enough to pay your rent for the next ten years.

You carefully picked one up with both hands, terrified you’d somehow damage it through sheer incompetence alone.

Honestly, you were still shocked Jungkook never asked for samples of your work.

If he had, your career would’ve ended immediately.

The only thing you could’ve shown him was a mediocre CapCut edit with dramatic black-and-white filters slapped over it to make it look “cinematic.”

You groaned loudly, dropping your forehead against the edge of the table.

“Oh my God,” you whispered into the expensive wood. “I’m actually a fraud.”

You nearly lost balance holding the enormous camera in your hands, quickly tightening your grip before your entire future shattered onto the hotel floor in high definition. “Woah, this is heavy.”

Your eyes stayed locked on the equipment nervously as you adjusted the strap around your wrist, trying your best to look like someone who actually knew what they were doing. Because if Jungkook realized how painfully inexperienced you were, he might personally send you back to your country on the next available flight.

You wouldn’t even blame him. The past few nights had been brutal.

You barely slept at all, surviving almost entirely on instant noodles, caffeine, and pure fear while desperately teaching yourself editing techniques through YouTube tutorials. Your laptop had become an extension of your body at this point, constantly running sample footage you filmed around your apartment just so you could practice transitions, lighting adjustments, stabilization, and color grading.

You even studied Jungkook’s editing style specifically.

The pacing of his vlogs.

The soft cinematic filters.

The random zoom-ins.

The casual, natural feeling of the clips.

You analyzed everything like your life depended on it because technically, your rent kind of did. You were getting paid for this. A ridiculous amount, too.

And there was absolutely no way you could afford getting exposed now.

“Okay…” you muttered slowly while fiddling with the camera settings. “This is kinda… easy?”

You said it more like a question than a statement. Still, you forced yourself to keep going.

You searched up tutorials for the exact camera model, watched setup guides, practiced adjusting focus and lighting, and filmed random clips around the room like an aspiring film student fighting for survival.

At some point, you even started taking artistic shots of your coffee cup near the hotel window. For practice, obviously.

Tomorrow was your first official filming day.

According to the schedule Jungkook emailed you earlier, you’d be accompanying him to a golf activity before the concert. He wanted behind-the-scenes footage for the fans—small moments throughout the day, casual interactions, preparations before performing.

And apparently that was only the beginning. Over the next few days, you’d also be filming soundchecks, backstage moments, errands, workouts, rehearsals, and random snippets of his daily routine while on tour.

Basically, your entire existence now revolves around documenting Jungkook’s life aesthetically.

No pressure.

You used his latest vlog as your main reference while practicing, pausing every few seconds to study angles and editing choices carefully. Honestly, the style itself wasn’t impossible to recreate. It leaned more natural than overly polished, which helped calm your nerves slightly.

The problem was you. You weren’t skilled.

And the more you thought about his expectations, the more your stomach twisted itself into knots.

But backing out wasn’t an option anymore.

Not after the cover letter.

Not after the hotel.

Not after the plane ticket.

Definitely not after seeing the paycheck.

So instead of panicking yourself into quitting, you threw every ounce of energy into learning. Practicing. Training.

Like you were preparing for the Olympics instead of secretly faking your way into being Jungkook’s videographer.

You almost had a heart attack when your phone suddenly buzzed while you were testing the cameras.

The heavy device nearly slipped straight out of your hands as Jungkook’s name flashed across the screen.

Your pulse instantly skyrocketed.

Jungkook: hey, i left all the equipment on the table in your hotel room because i had to leave early for rehearsal. camera batteries are charging already, memory cards are inside the small black case, and i think i accidentally tangled all the wires together so… good luck with that honestly ㅎㅎ

there’s also a pass hanging on the chair for backstage access. don’t lose it or my manager’s gonna kill me lol

take your time checking everything first before we head out tomorrow. and if anything’s confusing just call me :))

You stared at the message for a moment longer than necessary, a smile unconsciously pulling at your lips.

His personality somehow translated perfectly even through text messages alone—easygoing, playful, ridiculously approachable despite being one of the biggest celebrities in the world.

It reminded you exactly why he used to be your ultimate bias years ago. There was something naturally charming about him. Something warm.

You quickly typed a reply before you could overthink it too much.

You: yes! i am checking them out hehe.. the batteries are currently charging, the cards are safe, and i’m currently fighting for my life trying to untangle these wires hahaha

good luck with rehearsal!! see you tomorrow!

The second you pressed send, immediate regret flooded your body. You stared at your message in horror.

Why did I sound like that?

Your cheeks burned violently as you reread the multiple “hehe’s” and unnecessary laughter typed into the conversation like a teenager texting her crush for the first time.

You physically covered your face with your hands.

“Oh my God,” you groaned into your palms. It wasn’t like you were trying to flirt. 

Or maybe… just a little bit.

Which honestly made the situation infinitely worse.

You used to be an incredibly dedicated ARMY once upon a time, and frankly, this entire situation was making your heart malfunction.

Working for Jungkook.

Texting Jungkook.

Meeting Jungkook.

It all felt unreal in the most dangerous way possible.

But you forced yourself to set the fangirl part aside before it completely consumed you. You needed to stay professional. Calm. Composed.

Otherwise, you were genuinely convinced you’d suffer a stroke before filming a single decent piece of content for him.

So instead of spiraling, you spent the entire night practicing.

Testing the cameras.

Learning the settings.

Adjusting lighting.

Checking the microphones repeatedly to make sure the audio sounded clean.

You edited random sample clips until your eyes burned from exhaustion, determined to familiarize yourself with the equipment enough to at least fake confidence tomorrow.

And somehow, by pure fear-driven determination alone, morning arrived faster than expected.

You woke up early to practice filming one last time before leaving, moving around the hotel room with nervous energy buzzing beneath your skin. You were oddly dedicated now—almost desperate—to prove that hiring you wasn’t a mistake.

After showering, you dressed carefully in clothes that screamed “professional videographer” despite the fact that you absolutely were not one.

A black long-sleeved polo, dark slacks and black shoes. You even tied your hair back neatly, staring at yourself in the mirror afterward like you were about to infiltrate the FBI instead of filming golf content.

A knock sounded at your hotel door.

“Good day, Ms. Y/N. Are you ready?”

You immediately straightened up before opening it, greeted by one of the bodyguards Jungkook assigned to escort you. His black shades reflected your visibly nervous expression back at you.

“Yes,” you answered quickly, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Before leaving, you double-checked everything one last time—the batteries, memory cards, laptop, chargers—making sure nothing important was missing before following the bodyguard downstairs.

Outside, a sleek black car waited for you.

Your heartbeat quickened the moment you stepped inside.

You were scheduled to arrive an hour earlier than Jungkook so you could prepare the equipment and set everything up properly before filming started. Which meant you had an entire hour alone to panic in peace. 

The ride itself was painfully quiet. Only the soft hum of the air conditioner filled the car while city lights blurred past the tinted windows. Your hands rested stiffly over your bag, fingers nervously tapping against the expensive camera inside while your thoughts spiraled endlessly.

You swallowed hard. “I can do this,” you whispered quietly to yourself.

Though honestly, you sounded unconvinced. The moment the golf course entrance came into view, your stomach twisted so violently you almost gagged.

Oh God. This was actually happening.

The bodyguard escorted you inside shortly after, guiding you toward the smaller private golf area before leaving you alone to prepare your setup.

The silence that followed felt enormous.

You slowly placed the equipment down, inhaling deeply as the morning breeze brushed against your face. The golf course stretched beautifully beneath the early sunlight, calm and expensive and intimidating all at once.

And somewhere in the middle of unpacking tripods with trembling hands, one horrifying realization settled heavily into your chest.

Soon, Jungkook was going to arrive.

You looked around quietly, taking in the golf course while trying to calm the violent beating of your heart.

The place felt tucked away from the rest of the world somehow—small, peaceful, almost unreal in its stillness. Unlike the massive championship courses you usually saw online, this one felt more intimate. The holes were laid out closer together across smooth fairways trimmed so perfectly they looked like green velvet beneath the morning sun.

Small sand bunkers curved around the landscape, soft hills rolling gently beneath clean white flags planted in the distance.

No screaming crowds. No cameras flashing endlessly. Just the distant rustling of trees, the muted hum of golf carts somewhere farther away, and every now and then, the satisfying thunk of a golf club striking a ball cleanly through the air.

Though, it would’ve been relaxing if you weren’t moments away from throwing up from anxiety.

Your hands were already sweaty as you unpacked the equipment carefully, trying not to look like you had absolutely no clue what you were doing. You adjusted the camera repeatedly, searching for decent angles while silently thanking every higher power possible that there weren’t many people around.

Only a few locals occupied the course, minding their own business.

Good.

Less witnesses for your downfall.

You became so focused on testing camera movements and practicing steady shots that you completely failed to notice someone approaching behind you.

It wasn’t until you angled the camera upward during practice that your soul nearly exited your body.

Jungkook stood directly in frame, smiling right into the lens. Your heart stopped.

“Hi,” he greeted warmly, amusement flickering across his face as he glanced at the camera in your hands. “Looks like you’re having fun already.”

A black sports bag rested beside your equipment now, meaning he must’ve walked over while you were too busy pretending to be a professional filmmaker to notice.

Your eyes widened instantly. “Oh my God—”

You almost tripped over your own feet while hurriedly lowering the camera, panic rushing through your body all at once.

“I was just, um—checking the angles,” you explained nervously, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so awkward. “Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N.”

You quickly wiped your damp palms against your slacks before offering your hand to him politely.

Up close, he somehow looked even more unreal. Tall, broad-shouldered, with beautiful tattoos curling around his arm, silver piercings catching the sunlight softly whenever he smiled.

And unfortunately for your sanity, he was even more handsome in person. Ridiculously so. The kind of handsome that made it difficult to think properly when he looked at you for too long.

He chuckled softly before taking your hand in his. His grip was warm. 

Your brain short-circuited immediately.

Dressed in a fitted white polo shirt and black Nike shorts, a black cap resting low over his dark hair in a way that somehow made him look both ridiculously expensive and effortlessly casual at the same time.

The shirt did absolutely nothing to hide how built he was.

You could see the outline of his muscles beneath the fabric every time he moved, his shoulders broad enough to almost completely block the sunlight from where you stood.

“Hello,” he said warmly, shaking your hand once. “I’m Jungkook. Nice to meet you too.” Your cheeks instantly burned.

Seeing him through a screen was one thing. Seeing him in person felt entirely different.

He was so much more charismatic up close it almost irritated you. His bunny teeth peeked out whenever he smiled, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners while he spoke in that easy, friendly tone that made it impossible not to relax around him.

His entire aura felt bright somehow. Light. Dangerously charming.

You were absolutely screwed.

“I’ll leave the filming techniques up to you,” he continued casually, walking over toward the cooler nearby. “Feel free to film me however you want. No pressure.”

No pressure.

As if your nervous system wasn’t already collapsing in on itself.

He grabbed a cold bottle of water before offering another one toward you naturally, like this entire situation wasn’t surreal at all.

“Thank you,” you answered quickly, taking the bottle before immediately setting it aside again. “Uh—I’ll start filming now!”

You lifted the camera again with almost aggressive determination, eager to gather as much footage as possible. More clips meant more editing options later. More editing options meant a smaller chance of exposing yourself as a complete fraud.

Jungkook raised an amused brow at your sudden seriousness, his gaze briefly traveled over your outfit before returning to your face.

“You sure?” he asked lightly. “You don’t wanna eat first? I still have to stretch and stuff anyway.”

You shook your head immediately. “Nope.”

Your grip tightened around the camera slightly. “I wanna include behind-the-scenes snippets too, so…” you explained, trying your best to sound professional despite your racing heart. “This would actually be good footage.”

The determination in your voice made Jungkook smile again. And for some reason, that tiny look of approval made your stomach flip harder than it should have.

Jungkook chuckled softly. “Alright,” he said easily. “Just tell me if you need specific details or angles.”

Then he walked toward the side of the golf course to begin stretching.

You immediately followed after him with the camera clutched in your hands exactly the way you practiced all night, quickly pressing record before your nerves could stop you.

At first, things seemed to be going surprisingly well. You filmed everything.

His warm-ups were slow, deliberate—like he was already in control of everything around him.

The way he adjusted his gloves with quiet precision. The subtle flex of his arms as he set up his iron, muscles shifting beneath fabric like something effortless and practiced. The clean, confident swing of the club cutting through air before striking the ball with a sharp, satisfying sound. The soft crunch of grass beneath his shoes as he shifted his stance, grounding himself between each shot.

Then the stillness between it all.

Him sitting down beneath the shade, momentarily retreating from the sun. Him lifting a bottle of water to his lips, throat moving as he drank, the back of his hand brushing sweat away from his neck without much thought.

You practically documented his entire existence.

At one point, you even almost followed him toward the restroom before your brain caught up with your body at the last second.

You genuinely thought you were doing an amazing job.

From your perspective, more footage meant more options later during editing. You didn’t want to miss a single moment that could potentially look cinematic or useful.

But from Jungkook’s perspective… It was a little concerning.

At first, he simply watched quietly. He noticed the small mistakes immediately—the way you held the camera too stiffly sometimes, the awkward adjustments of the lens, the shaky transitions between movements.

Still, he tried convincing himself that maybe you were just getting comfortable with the equipment. Maybe you simply needed time.

But as the day continued, realization slowly settled in. Especially when he caught you aggressively zooming into completely unnecessary details before quickly rotating the lens too fast, creating footage that would probably look dizzying when played back.

Beginner.

The word settled into his thoughts almost instantly. You followed him everywhere with unwavering focus, constantly checking the framing, adjusting settings, filming from different angles even when your hands visibly started struggling beneath the camera’s weight.

By the time he returned from the restroom later that afternoon, he paused slightly at the sight of you near the equipment table.

You were rotating your shoulders carefully with a tired grimace, trying to ease the soreness from carrying the camera all day. Sweat clung lightly against your forehead beneath the heat of the sun, and your fingers looked faintly red from gripping the equipment for hours.

Still, the moment you noticed him approaching again, you instinctively reached for the camera.

“I think you have enough footage for today,” Jungkook said quietly before you could pick it up again.

His voice carried something firmer now. Your hands froze mid-motion.

You blinked at him in confusion. “Huh?” you asked, adjusting your grip on the camera. “But you’re not done yet.”

He was still in the middle of playing. There were still shots left, more footage you could take, more angles you could practice.

But instead of continuing, Jungkook simply placed the iron back onto the rack with a quiet sigh.

Something about his body language had changed. Subtle, but noticeable.

The playful brightness from earlier dimmed slightly, exhaustion settling into the slope of his shoulders as he rubbed the back of his neck.

And suddenly, anxiety crept beneath your skin.

Was he disappointed?

The answer was yes. Not angry—he wasn’t angry. But disappointed enough to realize the truth little by little throughout the day.

You don’t have any clue on what you were doing.

The way you handled the camera, the inconsistent framing, the random zoom-ins, the awkward adjustments every few seconds—it was painfully obvious that you were inexperienced.

And for a brief moment, ugly thoughts crossed his mind despite himself.

He trusted you.

Even without polished sample reels or impressive portfolios, he still chose to trust you. Your cover letter had been painfully sincere, especially the part about wanting independence. Wanting to do things on your own so you wouldn’t burden your parents. Wanting to make them proud. Wanting to stand on your own feet.

That part stayed with him longer than it should have.

A lot of people sent him impressive applications. High-quality edits. Cinematic videos. Professional portfolios crafted carefully to catch his attention. Thousands of direct messages flooded his account constantly, most of them blending together into meaningless noise after a while.

But yours stood out somehow.

Maybe it was the formal profile picture that made him laugh- looked strangely earnest among the endless stream of unserious messages. Maybe it was the desperation hidden between your carefully written sentences. Or maybe it was simply because your letter resonated with him more than he expected it to.

He understood that kind of desperation.

That overwhelming need to prove yourself to the world.

He had been independent from a young age too, forced to grow up far earlier than most people ever had to. He knew what it felt like to carry pressure so heavy it started shaping the person you became.

But still—

Maybe you lied just to get close to him.

Maybe you wanted the money.

Maybe you were just another person trying to take advantage of him somehow.

God knew he had already met far too many people like that.

But every time those thoughts surfaced, they disappeared almost instantly the second he looked at you again.

Because you were trying so hard. Too hard, honestly.

The determination written across your face all day felt painfully genuine, from the way you followed him around with aching arms to the sweat gathering near your forehead while you forced yourself to keep filming despite your obvious exhaustion.

You looked less like a manipulative opportunist and more like someone desperately trying not to fail.

Still, disappointment lingered quietly beneath his ribs. A dull ache he couldn’t quite shake away no matter how sincere you looked trying to impress him.

And instead of sending you home immediately, another thought slowly crept into his mind.

Something dangerous.

Something mean.

Something dirty enough to make his pulse slow.

He wanted to punish you for it.

Not enough to truly hurt you—never that—but enough to make you understand exactly what happened when you lied to him. Enough to leave you breathless beneath the weight of his attention, overwhelmed by the consequences of trying to fool him so boldly.

Jungkook had always been competitive for a reason.

He hated losing, hated being made a fool of.

And now that you had managed to slip past his guard so easily, there was no way he was letting you walk away untouched by it.

Oh, he was going to have so much fun with you.

“I wanna film something,” he finally said instead, voice quieter now. More serious.

Your breath caught slightly at the sudden change in tone. The warmth from earlier had faded into something calmer. Harder to read.

“Oh,” you answered softly, momentarily caught off guard. “Okay! What kind of content?”

You quickly stood up and began fixing the equipment into your bags, noticing him grab his car keys from beside his sports bag.

“You’ll see,” he said simply, before turning toward the exit.

Your own brows furrowed in confusion. The schedule he sent clearly stated golf content for today. Nothing else.

Still, you followed him quietly anyway. When he told you to ride with him instead of the escort vehicle, your confusion deepened even more, though you didn’t question it aloud. Maybe he wanted driving footage or some cinematic clips for the vlog.

That had to be it.

Your heart thumped nervously as you climbed into his car beside him, immediately noticing how sleek and absurdly expensive the interior looked. The soft scent of fresh mint lingered in the air, clean and comforting somehow.

The realization that you were sitting inside Jungkook’s car with Jungkook himself nearly made your soul leave your body.

Your hands instinctively reached toward the camera bag.

“No,” Jungkook chuckled softly the moment he noticed. “You’re not gonna film here, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl.

Your entire brain stopped functioning. Heat rushed violently into your cheeks as you slowly pulled your hands away from the bag.

“Oh,” you answered weakly. “Okay…”

You bit your lip afterward, turning slightly toward the window to hide your expression while curiosity twisted tighter inside your chest.

Where exactly was he taking you?

The moment you saw the familiar hotel building come into view through the windshield, confusion settled deeper into your chest.

You followed Jungkook quietly through the lobby, nerves buzzing beneath your skin with every step.

He had gone strangely quiet after golf. Still calm, still composed—but not as bright as before. The easy smiles disappeared, replaced by something heavier lingering beneath his expression, and it made your stomach tighten painfully.

“Uhm…” you started carefully while standing beside him inside the elevator. “Are you gonna get a few more cameras or something?”

The elevator doors slid shut. Jungkook glanced at you briefly, his doe eyes half-lidded in a way that made your throat suddenly feel dry.

“Take a guess.”

Your heartbeat stumbled. Something about his tone made nervousness crawl violently through your body. And when the elevator finally opened onto your floor, Jungkook grabbed your wrist without warning.

You gasped softly, he dragged you out impatiently, long strides carrying the two of you quickly down the hallway toward your hotel room. His grip wasn’t painful, but firm enough to make your pulse race uncontrollably beneath your skin.

By the time you stopped in front of your door, your mind was already spiraling. Jungkook looked down at you expectantly, his pupils dilated, still holding your wrist while waiting for you to unlock the room.

Did he figure it out? The thought struck so hard your chest physically tightened.

Your fingers trembled slightly while pulling out the keycard. Guilt flooded your system all at once, thick and suffocating.

You were scared.

Scared he’d yell at you. Scared he’d confiscate the equipment. Scared he’d have you booked on the next flight home before you even had a chance to explain yourself.

Completely unaware of the way his dark, playful mind worked. Completely unaware of how badly he wanted to punish you.

“Jungkook, I—”

But the words died immediately when he walked past you instead.

He took the camera bag from your hands and moved straight toward the table, pulling out the camera you used earlier before checking the rest of the equipment you left behind.

You blinked in confusion. Huh?

Jungkook grabbed another camera calmly before setting up one of the tripods with practiced ease. The way his fingers moved across the equipment was fast and precise, adjusting settings effortlessly while rotating the camera into position like second nature. His shoulders flexed beneath the white polo each time he lifted the tripod, veins bulging faintly along his tattooed forearms while he fixed the lighting behind it.

Your lips parted slightly without meaning to. He looked ridiculously good doing something as simple as setting up cameras.

“W-What are you doing?” you stammered, confused.

Jungkook glanced back at you over his shoulder while tightening something near the tripod head.

“Sit on the bed for me.”

Your stomach flipped violently. “H-Huh? I mean okay,” you answered quietly, swallowing hard before slowly moving toward the bed.

You sat carefully near the edge while watching him continue adjusting the setup.

With one hand alone, Jungkook lifted the heavy tripod effortlessly and positioned it directly in front of the bed, angling the camera downward toward where you sat.

The veins along his arms flexed again beneath the strain.

Your throat went completely dry. The room suddenly felt much smaller than before.

Hotter too.

You watched silently as he grabbed another tripod, this time placing it to the right side of the bed. Both cameras pointed directly at you now. And for some reason, the sight made your heartbeat pound harder than ever before.

He looked through the camera lens carefully, head tilting slightly as he adjusted the angle. “Lay down on the bed.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “What—”

“Lay down.” he commanded sharply.

This time, his tone came out firmer. Serious. Leaving absolutely no room for argument.

And somehow, the way he looked at you through the camera lens sent a sharp shiver crawling down your spine.

To your own horror, excitement slowly started mixing with the fear curling inside your stomach.

You almost wanted to slap yourself for it.

You swallowed hard before slowly slipping your shoes off, awkwardly climbing farther onto the bed until your back rested against the headboard.

Every movement suddenly felt painfully self-aware beneath the cameras pointed directly at you.

Jungkook poked the inside of his cheek thoughtfully while studying the frame through the viewfinder, eventually stepping forward again to move the tripod closer.

Before you could shift yourself lower against the mattress, he suddenly walked toward you instead. Your breath hitched the second he crouched down in front of you holding the clip-on microphone.

He leaned in close enough for you to catch the faint scent of mint lingering on him.

“You forgot these earlier,” he said lightly, though there was something mocking beneath the softness of his voice now.

“Oh,” you answered weakly. “Uhm… I was in a rush, so…” Your cheeks burned instantly from embarrassment. 

Of course you forgot the microphones!

Jungkook raised a brow slowly. “You were in a rush?” he repeated with a quiet chuckle before standing back up again.

Then he walked toward the table and grabbed the smaller digital camcorder, casually aiming it toward you.

The amount of cameras pointed at you now made your stomach twist uncomfortably. Instinctively, you tried sitting up straighter, but Jungkook stopped you immediately.

“Stay still,” he said calmly. “I wanna test the cameras.”

“Test the cameras?”

“I think you need a little demo, baby.” Your heartbeat stopped. “You weren’t doing a very good job earlier.” The teasing mockery in his tone hit you like a truck.

And suddenly everything crashed down at once. Your eyes widened in horror.

Fuck. 

He knew.

Of course he knew!

Heat rushed violently into your face and neck, humiliation crawling across your entire body so intensely it almost hurt. Your chest tightened painfully while tears burned behind your eyes before you could stop them.

You looked away instinctively, shame flooding every inch of you.

God, this was so embarrassing.

“J-Jungkook, please,” you stammered quickly, panic slipping into your voice. “I’m not trying to scam you or anything, it’s just that—”

He stepped closer until his knees brushed against the edge of the bed.

And somehow, that almost satisfied look on his face made your stomach twist even more.

You looked so shy. So cornered. Like a poor little thing unknowingly walking straight into his hands.

His gaze lingered on you with dangerous amusement, as though you had already become his favorite test subject for the cameras.

Dark lazy eyes dragged slowly across your body, taking their time, shamelessly roaming over every inch of you while his imagination sparked vividly to life. You could almost see the thoughts forming behind his eyes—every filthy thing he wanted to do to you, every position he wanted to bend you into, every sound he wanted to force out of your mouth while the cameras kept recording.

And somehow, what excited him even more was the thought of filming it all. Editing it afterward. Watching you fall apart for him frame by frame.

“Shh,” he murmured softly. “It’s okay.”

Your watery eyes lifted toward him immediately. “I’ll teach you how to film, hmm?” he said mockingly.

“W-What?” Your lips parted in disbelief.

Jungkook tilted his head slightly, dark eyes fixed on yours with an unreadable expression.

“Gonna show you the right angles, baby,” he cooed. “What do you think?” He smiled without humor.

The contrast made you shiver. “B-But…”

“Will you cooperate with me?” he asked, voice smooth and almost condescending, like he was speaking to a child. His fingers tapped lightly against one of the cameras beside him. “We wouldn’t want these cameras to go to waste, would we?”

Your throat tightened. Part of you wanted to disappear completely. To book the next flight home, apologize profusely, and somehow repay every expense he wasted on you.

But another part of you—the younger version buried deep inside your chest, the girl who once stayed up all night watching his videos and smiling at her screen—couldn’t let go of this moment.

Because despite everything, Jungkook still hadn’t thrown you out.

He wasn’t yelling at you.

He was giving you another chance.

And maybe that meant you still had an opportunity to prove yourself.

Thousands of people probably wanted your position right now. Yet somehow, he was still here. Patient enough to teach you himself.

Completely unaware of how dangerous that patience actually was.

Because the lessons Jungkook had in mind were nothing like the ones you were expecting.

So slowly, you nodded.

Hope flickered weakly beneath your embarrassment while your thoughts tangled themselves around one desperate need: to impress him somehow.

“Okay,” you whispered nervously. “I—I learn fast when someone’s teaching me and…”

Jungkook raised a thick brow at you. “Pretty girl’s a fast learner, huh?”

Your cheeks immediately reddened again. You nodded shyly despite the obvious teasing in his tone, unconsciously pouting a little from embarrassment.

His eyes went down to your lips, eyes darkening. “Can you count the cameras for me?” he asked a bit impatiently.

You glanced around quickly toward the setup.

The two cameras mounted on tripods.

The camcorder in his hand.

“There’s three,” you answered softly.

Jungkook chuckled under his breath. “Good job, baby.” he slowly lifted the camcorder higher, zooming the lens closer toward your face.

“Now look here.”

You shyly looked into the camera lens, your cheeks dusted with pink beneath the warm lights.

The way Jungkook stared at you through the camcorder made you shrink into yourself slightly, suddenly aware of every little movement you made on the bed.

He tilted his head slowly. “So pretty.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Heat crawled up your neck as you shifted uncomfortably against the mattress, fingers curling slightly into the sheets. The entire situation suddenly felt strangely intimate, and for a second your thoughts drifted somewhere dangerous before you quickly forced yourself to focus again.

This is just a demo.

He’s teaching you.

Nothing else.

“Open the first few buttons of your top,” he said, voice quieter now as he continued looking at you through the camcorder.

Your eyes widened instantly.

Did I hear that right?

“W-What?” you nearly choked out, pulse quickening embarrassingly fast despite how badly this entire situation could end for you.

And somehow, against all logic, excitement started curling through your stomach.

“Need you to cooperate, baby,” he answered smoothly. “Come on, do a nice show for me.”

The teasing edge in his tone made your stomach twist nervously.

You hesitated for a moment before slowly bringing your shaky fingers toward your top, feeling painfully aware of the cameras pointed at you from different angles.

Jungkook watched carefully through the lens, adjusting the focus ring slightly while observing the framing.

“That’s it.” he encouraged.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, fingers trembling as you slowly undid the first few buttons of your blouse. Heat crawled up the back of your neck, burning the tips of your ears as the reality of the situation settled deeper beneath your skin.

He’s filming a sex tape.

You were so fucking stupid because instead of panicking properly, instead of running or completely losing your mind, you were following him blindly. Worse—you were getting excited.

Fuck, you should’ve been crashing out right now.

But the way he looked at you— God.

It felt like he wanted to devour you whole. His dark eyes dragged over every inch of exposed skin with quiet hunger, liquid heat pulsed embarrassingly between the gap of your thighs before you could stop it.

“Open your eyes baby, stare at the camera.” he said firmly, an obvious edge underneath it.

You slowly opened your eyes. Your cheeks were already burning, breath uneven as you finished unbuttoning the last one, revealing just enough of your chest to make your thoughts scatter. The camera lens felt heavier now, more invasive, like it was watching you breathe, waiting for you to make the wrong move.

“Hmm…touch your breasts baby, give it a nice squeeze for me.” he whispered, still holding the camcorder, directing it with the ease of someone who knew exactly what every angle captured.

Completely under his control, you obeyed, your hands moving hesitantly at first before you held yourself through the fabric, giving a light squeeze that made your breath hitch. You bit down on your lower lip, trying to stay steady, trying to keep your eyes locked on the camera like he told you, even as your vision softened at the edges and your body betrayed your focus.

The room felt smaller now. Heavier.

You were getting so wet.

Jungkook let out a low groan, eyes still fixed through the lens.

“Remove your top, wanna see your pretty nipples.”

Your ears burned red at the filthy undertone. With shaky hands, you slowly pulled your top off, revealing the white lace bra beneath. The delicate fabric hugged the soft swell of your breasts perfectly, and the moment Jungkook’s eyes settled on them through the camera lens, another wave of heat rushed through your body.

You slowly tugged at the first strap, then the second, freeing your breasts as your nipples hardened, flushed and sensitive against the cool air.

“That’s it,” he instructed, voice steady. “Roll those pretty nipples for me.”

You obeyed, pinching them gently before rolling them between your fingers. Your lips parted at the rush of sensation that followed, breath catching as your panties got more stickier with your arousal.

When your gaze dropped, you noticed the strain in his black shorts—the obvious tent pressing against the fabric. A shiver ran down your spine at the realization that despite his composed, professional expression as he filmed you, he wasn’t unaffected.

He groaned, zooming in on how you were rolling and pinching your nipples, his cock throbbing at the sight, precum leaking from its mushroom tip.

“Bring your hand to your mouth,” he ordered, directing the camera at your face. “Now, spit on it.”

You whimpered. Like a good girl, you gathered your saliva and spat thickly onto your palms, showing it to him after.

He bit his lower lip, his cock getting so hard from your submissiveness. “Good girl, now rub it on your nipples—make it nice and wet for me,” he rasped.

You rubbed the spit on your breast, the warm, sticky fluid on your nipples feeling so raw and dirty, spreading the saliva messily as he watched you through the lens with hooded eyes.

You were getting so horny, the dirty act turning you on so much that you could feel your panties sticking to your core.

“Look at you,” he chuckled, slowly reaching toward you. “I bet you’re so wet right now.”

You looked so pretty—your neatly done hair now slightly disheveled, cheeks flushed from all the things he’d been instructing you to do, pebbled nipples glistening under the camera lights. Your legs trembled slightly, aching to be touched, your lips parting every now and then as your breath turned uneven, eyes hazy and unfocused.

The sight made Jungkook’s cock throb painfully hard.

His pretty little doll.

He handed you the camcorder. “Hold this, baby. Show them who’s making you this wet.”

With shaky hands and glossy eyes, you took the camera and tried to point it toward him, your eyes rolling back when he removed his white polo shirt and black shorts, leaving him in his gray Calvin Klein boxers.

You whimpered as you could see the outline of his huge cock, precum leaking at the tip, wetting the center of the cloth.

“Your angle is wrong,” he raised a brow, noticing how your shaky hands were failing a bit at holding the camera properly.

You panicked. “I’m sorry,” you rushed out, trying to straighten it, ignoring the painful pulses between your legs—your body begging to be touched.

He chuckled, leaning over you. “It’s okay, baby. That’s why we have another camera.”

His hands came up to your cheeks, gently holding and angling your face to the right so you could look toward the second camera set up by the side of the bed. “I bet you’d look so good getting fucked from that angle,” he whispered.

His grip on your cheeks tightened slightly, squishing them just enough as the camera captured everything—the way your eyes fluttered, the way your nipples hardened under his gaze, the way your legs shifted restlessly, searching for any kind of friction.

You gasped loudly when his free hand went down to cup your pussy through your pants, your eyes rolling back as he felt the wetness through the fabric.

“Fuck, let me see how wet you are, yeah?”

With one hand, he unzipped your pants, pulling them down in one forceful motion while his other hand remained on your cheeks, keeping your gaze fixed on the camera. Your other hand trembled as it tried to capture what he was doing below.

“Capture this, baby,” he breathed, guiding your hand holding the camcorder to angle it downward, towards your wet pussy.

You almost dropped the camera when he suddenly slapped your cunt, your panties nearly see-through from how wet they were with your arousal.

“Jungkook~” you whimpered.

He sat up and held both of your legs, spreading them wider until your ankles were almost on either side of the bed.

“You’re so wet, I can see your cute little slit through your panties baby.” He chuckled, leaning down and hollowing his cheeks to spit right above your clothed clit, making it even messier.

You whimpered, your toes curling at the sensation, gripping the camcorder tightly as you felt him crouch down, spreading his spit over your panties. His warm tongue then licked along your pussy through the fabric, slotting between your folds, the wet material pressing inside your slit.

“Make sure the camera can see how good I’m gonna eat this pussy.” He whispered while looking at you, flipping your panties to the side and groaning when he saw how wet and pink you were, his jaw slackening as he took almost your whole pussy into his warm mouth.

It was so wet and messy, and you could see him through the mini screen of the camcorder, maintaining direct eye contact with the lens while eating you out, making sure to pull back your hood so the camera could capture how his lips would wrapped around your swollen clit.

He suctioned around it, spreading more spit, sucking as if his life depended on it, then moved down to gather your juices before sliding his hot tongue inside you, coaxing more from you. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, showing you how he drank every bit of your wetness.

“That feels so g-good.” You moaned, trying to zoom in on how his tongue played with your folds.

He hummed, the vibrations making you twitch in pleasure.

“Yeah? This feels good?” he asked, sucking harshly on your clit as your eyes rolled back, your release building up fast. Your pussy throbbed, your clit growing more sensitive with every passing second.

“I’m gonna-’’

You moaned loudly when he buried his face deeper, never letting go of your throbbing clit, his head moving from side to side as he groaned low against you. When he finally let go of your clit, you gasped as he gathered a thick amount of saliva, hollowing his cheeks to spit harshly down on you, then leaning back in with his tongue out to spread it in slow, kitten-like licks.

When he looked up again at the lens, you exploded, your orgasm so intense you could feel your pussy pulsating so hard you almost saw stars.

‘’Stop, please!” You whined, overstimulated as he kept licking your cunt, your legs shaking from the oversensitivity.

His chin and nose were soaked, his lips slightly red and pouty, his dark locks messy, and his pupils dilated. You gasped when he suddenly removed his boxers; his cock was hard and pretty, curving slightly upward, decorated with thick veins and a red, swollen mushroom tip.

Jungkook took the camera and angled it towards you, wide glossy eyes looking up at him weakly.

“Say… thank you for making me cum, Jungkook.” He breathed, his other hand gripping his cock as he spread the precum along his shaft.

“Thank you for m-making me cum, Jungkook.” You croaked, your legs still trembling from your intense orgasm.

He smiled proudly. “My smart girl, very good at following instructions,” he praised, placing the camcorder down beside you and angling it so it could capture how his mouth leaned down to suck your nipples, while his free hand squeezed and rolled the other bud between his fingers.

“Jungkook—” you moaned as his tongue twirled and sucked around your breast, just like he had done to your clit—messy and pouty with saliva.

He bit your nipple playfully, earning a soft whimper from you, his tattooed hand reaching down to cup your swollen pussy.

You gasped when he inserted his middle finger, your walls tightening around the intrusion.

“You’re so tight and warm.” He murmured against your nipple, letting it go with a soft pop before moving to suck on the other one.

You whimpered, your pussy growing wetter from the way he sucked and played with your nipples, the pad of his middle finger brushing against your spongy spot, making you writhe in pleasure.

“Please- too much.” You moaned, his middle finger going so deep that his knuckles were hitting your ass, his finger curling in a “come here” motion inside you, rubbing your spot deliciously as your tight hole produced more juices, the feeling of your previous release being pushed inside you making you tremble.

He let go of your nipple and leaned in immediately, pouty lips capturing yours in a hungry kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, messy and demanding, tangling with yours as the kiss deepened and turned overwhelming.

At the same time, his other hand moved up to your throat, fingers wrapping gently around the column of your neck, giving it a light squeeze as he held you in place.

Your lips parted in response, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue deeper, exploring every corner of your mouth, sucking on your tongue and swallowing your whines and protests.

His hard cock pressed against your inner thigh, impossibly close to your wet pussy, grinding lightly as he shifted. You could feel his precum, warm and slick, and the firm pressure of his mushroom tip against your skin made you bite back a shaky breath, a mix of pleasure and nerves twisting together inside you.

Your walls tightened around his finger, making it almost impossible for him to move it from how tightly your pussy gripped him.

He groaned, biting your lip and nudging your thighs wider with his legs, inserting another finger and making you gasp from the mix of pain and pleasure. He swallowed your moans, almost bruising your tongue from the way he was kissing you, the air in your lungs growing limited every time he squeezed your throat.

“Shh, behave for the camera.” he whispered, his thumb caressing your throat while his middle and ring fingers rubbed your spongy spot in slow circles.

Tears fell from your eyes, the overstimulation and edging making you cry from pain. You had already come, but you wanted to cum again so badly, your pussy aching and throbbing for another release, his fingers brushing your g-spot in a teasing, ticklish way, making you shake and move your legs in protest.

“Let me cum again, please, please…” you pleaded, fat tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.

He gripped your throat a little tighter, making you gasp for air. “Aww, you wanna come again?” he cooed.

You nodded desperately, moving your hips to meet his fingers. “Yes, please.”

He chuckled at you. “So polite.” he said, lazily grabbing the camcorder from the side and angling it down towards your spent pussy. “Spread wide, baby.”

You immediately held your ankles, making yourself completely open for him, desperate for release, your body aching from denied pleasure.

He angled the camera at your twitching hole, filming how your wetness dripped down the sheets. He held his hard cock, spitting down onto his shaft and pumping it a few times before angling himself towards your wet cunt.

You gasped loudly when his blunt head entered your hole, biting your lip harshly at the foreign intrusion, the stretch nearly overwhelming you from his swollen mushroom tip alone.

“So big…” you whimpered, holding your ankles tightly as a new wave of tears gathered in your eyes.

Your breath hitched, trembling as you tried to adjust, the sensation stealing every coherent thought from your mind.

Jungkook cursed under his breath, zooming in on your wet cunt to capture how your walls were sucking him in.

“Your pussy looks so good on camera baby, so tight and pretty.” He grunted, pushing halfway in and earning a loud moan from you.

His bangs stuck to his forehead, his lip ring catching the light as he bit down on his lower lip. His broad chest rose and fell heavily, veins tracing along his neck, flushed and taut with effort. Even like this, he held the camera with unnerving steadiness, like nothing about the moment could shake his focus.

So steady and professional at producing sex tapes.

When he bottomed out, you almost fainted, the stretch overwhelming—painful yet intoxicating—as he pressed fully against you. His balls settled deep, his pelvis flush with yours, the soft trim of hair brushing your clit each time he rolled his hips.

He groaned harshly. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, his jaw clenching as your walls enveloped him.

“Relax, baby—you’re gripping me,” he groaned weakly, this time angling the camera toward your face.

You whimpered, trying to cover your face with your small hands, but he caught both of your wrists and pinned them above your head. His sudden hard thrusts made your body bounce slightly with every movement, leaving you breathless.

“Don’t be shy, baby—show your pretty face to the camera,” he drawled lazily, angling it towards your flushed expression.

“Show them how good I’m making you feel.” He grunted, rolling his hips against you. The curve of his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly, buried so deep that he barely pulled out at all—only circling his hips, grinding in a way that made it feel like he wanted to push even further. The sensation drew a sharp arch through your back.

His gaze stayed locked on you through the screen, lips parted, breath uneven—like he was caught between control and losing it. The way your pussy gripped him made his cock throb, his expression darkening with something possessive and unspoken. 

“Look at you, whimpering like a pretty little slut.” he said in a condescending tone.

“I-I’m not a slut.” You pouted, your walls tightening around him at his degrading tone.

He raised a brow. “Oh really? You think a lot of people won’t agree once I upload this?”

Your eyes widened, panic flashing across your flushed face as his thrusts turned harsher and sloppier, the rhythm giving away how close he was getting. You were almost impressed that he was still managing to keep the camera steady.

“N-No, you are not gonna do that,” you panicked, your eyes wide and glossy, your small hands trying to push the camera away.

He grunted, his cock throbbing as he felt your pussy tighten around him. He shifted just enough to avoid the camera when you reached for it, tightening his grip around both your wrists so you couldn’t move.

“You like that, huh? Come on, pretty—let me film you properly.” He snapped his hips harder, angling the lens toward you while your bodies met in sharp, rhythmic collisions.

The friction made your breath hitch, your clit brushing against his pubic hair in a way that sent jolts of pleasure racing through your body. His grip tightened around the camcorder, breathing uneven as he watched you come apart through the screen, completely drunk on the sounds you were making for him.

“Moan louder.” he commanded.

You moaned loudly, your chest rising and falling as his harsh movements made your body react against him. His eyes rolled back slightly from the way you kept pulsating around him, every drag sending him deeper into overstimulation.

He bit his lip. “My dirty girl, getting fucked on film.” he rasped.

Then, abruptly, he let go of the camcorder and set it aside.

A soft sound escaped him as he pulled out, the sudden emptiness making you whimper. Before you could fully register it, he was already moving you—pulling your body forward and repositioning you in front of him.

He settled behind you, guiding you into place so that you were now facing the cameras on the tripod, your body fully on display while his broad chest and hard cock pressed close from behind.

“You see those two cameras baby?’’ he whispered behind your ear, spreading your legs wide.

“Yes.” you replied weakly.

You gasped loudly when he entered you from behind, your body settling against his lap as his thighs kept your legs spread wide, positioning you so the camera could clearly capture the way he entered you.

“Smile for them baby, need some footage from this angle.’’ He cooed softly, thrusting his hips upward while his other arm circled around your waist to keep you steady.

You moaned, trembling so badly when you saw how the lights caught both of your bodies—the glittering sheen of sweat, your smudged makeup, and his tattooed colored arms all captured in high definition under the harsh glow.

"My pretty pretty girl, should I post this? show them how I fuck?" he murmured against your skin before pressing a kiss to your cheek, his tongue brushing lightly over the dampness left behind by your earlier tears.

The tenderness of it contrasted so badly with the hunger in his voice that it made your breath hitch. His hand cradled your face carefully, thumb stroking beneath your eye as though he was soothing you and provoking you at the same time, and the way he looked at you through half-lidded eyes made heat rush straight to your chest.

He suddenly grabbed the clip-on mic from your necklace, your eyes widening as you realized he was angling it downward—towards where his cock met your pussy.

“Need to test the mic baby, let the viewers hear how much of a nasty slut you are.”

The mic was so close that every sound was picked up clearly—the wet, obscene squelches echoing as he pushed and pulled inside you, the way he dragged against your tight heat sounding even more intense through the recording. The noise alone felt almost sinful in how loud and wet it was.

“I bet they can hear how tight your pussy is.” he grunted, putting the mic closer to your cunt.

He could feel how slick everything had become, wetting his balls each time he pushed, your arousal makes each movement messier.

“Gonna cum, oh gosh.” You moaned, your body growing hypersensitive as your clit throbbed with the pressure of an approaching orgasm.

He grabbed both of your cheeks when he noticed your head starting to fall back from pleasure, forcing you to look straight at the camera in front of you. “Be a good girl and look at the lens, don’t want my content to be bad quality.’’

His other hand clipped the mic back onto your necklace before sliding down again, rubbing slow circles over your clit. You moaned loudly, your back arching as your orgasm edged closer and closer.

“Cum for me baby, show them your cute little juices.” 

Your legs were shaking when you finally reached your orgasm, your clit throbbing so intensely, your limbs giving out as your body hit its peak. Your swollen bud pulsed uncontrollably in fast, erratic heart beats, your walls clenching around his cock as he was still thrusting inside you.

Your eyes rolled back into your head when you felt your orgasm stretch further from his deep thrusts, his mushroom tip brushing against your g-spot and dragging you straight into another wave. You came again, consecutively, your body twitching as overstimulation took over, your legs instinctively trying to close.

"J-Jungkook I can't anymore."

Jungkook forced your legs to stay open, his index and middle fingers spreading your pussy lips apart for the camera, showing how your clit pulsed beneath the warm lights while his cock remained buried deep inside you.

''Mhm.. spit on your clit baby, make it extra wet before I use you." he whispered.

You squirmed, obediently leaning down as his fingers kept you spread open. With trembling breaths, you gathered saliva on your tongue before letting it drip down onto your clit, both cameras capturing the filthy sight in sharp detail.

A low curse slipped past Jungkook’s lips at the view, his grip tightening instinctively as he watched you, completely consumed by the way you willingly put yourself on display for him.

He quickly flipped your body down to chase his own pleasure, entering you again and sloppily thrusting into your wet used walls, pushing your cum deeper and deeper inside you. You were so weak, your heart still racing as you weakly reached for the camcorder to film him.

When he saw what you were doing, he groaned harshly, his grip on your hips tightening so hard it bordered on bruising as he held you down.

“My smart girl, you learned well huh?” He praised you, thrusting fast and hard, the camcorder shaking in your grip as you tried to capture his deep strokes.

"Your little brain functioning well with my cock deep inside you.'' he muttered darkly, thumb brushing against your cheek as he watched your expression unravel for him.

“A-Am I doing a good job?” you asked softly, biting your lip as you adjusted the camera to capture his face this time.

He let out a low growl in response, movements losing their rhythm slightly as pleasure started pulling him apart at the edges. “Uh-huh,” he breathed heavily. “You can be my personal little porn star. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

A loud moan escaped you at the thought, heat rushing instantly to your cheeks as you tightened your grip on the camcorder, suddenly far too eager to keep filming him.

“Gonna fuck you anytime I want,” he breathed, dilated eyes locked on you through the lens. “Film it however I like.”

With a harsh final thrust, he came inside you, grunting as he pushed through the last of it, staying buried as he finished, his body still tense with the release. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, warm cum spilling and pooling, some of it leaking out and staining the sheets beneath you while he stayed balls deep.

The camcorder slipped from your grip, forgotten as you breathed heavily beneath him. You were completely spent, still sensitive as his hips gave a few slow, instinctive movements, as if trying to push his cum deeper despite his softening cock.

“Jungkook?” you asked weakly, fingers absentmindedly playing with the soft ruffles of his hair.

“Hmm?” he hummed against your neck, lips pressing lazy kisses there, his cock still buried deep inside you. The red recording lights on the cameras kept blinking steadily in the background.

“A-Are you really gonna post this?” you bit your lip, glancing back at the two large cameras perched on the tripod.

Jungkook let out a quiet chuckle, teeth grazing your skin in a teasing bite. “Mhm. I still need to edit it though.”

“Jungkook!” you squealed, panicking again.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and sharp with need, still carrying that lingering haze of desire. “Do you even know how to edit?” he asked, eyes squinting in playful doubt.

Your eyes widened. “I can edit,” you insisted quickly. “I learned a few things… I kinda know the basics.” Your voice softened at the end, almost uncertain.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he slowly pulled out, earning a shaky breath from you before he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness.

“Hmm. Okay…” he murmured softly, lifting the camcorder slightly between you. “Edit this video for me, then.”

“What, r-really?” you blinked, surprised that he was letting you work for him.

“Uh-huh,” he said casually. “Then we’ll see if I have to keep you or not.”

You pouted instantly at that, but he was already shifting away from you, looking at the camcorder and checking the footage with the ease of someone far too experienced at this.

The screen’s glow reflected faintly against his handsome face as he replayed a few clips, brows slightly furrowed in concentration. Even now, completely relaxed, he somehow still looked annoyingly professional.

“Okay…” you mumbled softly, a little disappointment slipping into your voice before you could hide it.

He noticed immediately. Of course he did.

A smirk pulled at his lips as he lifted the camcorder slightly, teasing you with it. “Make sure you include your pretty moans, baby,” he drawled. “Or else we’ll have to retake this again.”

He stood up then, completely unbothered, removing the cameras from their tripods like the decision had already been made long before you realized it.

Retake.

Oh. He was definitely keeping you.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂˚₊┈┈୨୧┈┈‧₊˚⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂

© 2026 ggukiebar, all rights reserved

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[pinkpantherbby]

when the lights go out:

synopsis: an unexpected collaboration with jungkook was the last thing you wanted. he’s frustrating, impossible to read, and somehow always finds a way to get under your skin. but as your resentment slowly transforms into something far more dangerous, you begin to realize there’s more to him than you’ve ever been able to understand.

genre/warnings: jungkook x f!reader, idols au, explicit sexual content (mdni), smut, reader is a brat, forced proximity, perfectionism, alcohol consumption, f! masturbation, kissing, teasing, neck kissing, hickeys, marking, oral sex (m! receiving), cum eating, nipple play, a little dry humping, rough sex, obsession, orgasm (m! and f! receiving), overstimulation, squirting, unprotected sex (don’t do it pls)

w/c: 23.4k

a/n: sorry i haven’t updated in so long, i’ve been really busy lol, anyway thank you so much for 200 followers! this fanfic is my way of saying thank you, so i hope you enjoy!

the speakers of the dance studio were blasting music loudly—your group’s latest song buzzed around all over the room, thumping in every corner. it was late at night, and you had lost the track of how many times you had practiced that song.

the other four members of your group had left the studio long ago—it was just you and the melody echoing under the harsh, white lights in the black-walled room. you looked at your reflection in the big mirror hanging on the wall, making sure all of your movements were impeccable

it wasn’t weird to see yourself staying late in the studio, dancing until your body was completely numb and the only thing you remembered was the counting—it wasn’t a secret to anyone that you were a perfectionist.

you’ve been in this industry for years now, your fans have grown up with you and know every detail of you, so you couldn’t dare to disappoint them—given that you have such a loyal fan base you had to give them something back in exchange, right?

and that was never failing to give a perfect performance to them, you left your heart and soul in the stage. despite already having what people call natural talent, the fear of not being good enough and never reaching your full potential is constantly haunting you.

the song finally came to an end, the last move a pose thrown to a crowd that wasn’t there—tonight, the only one you were trying to impress was yourself. you were left panting, your heart beating rapidly and you basically couldn’t feel your legs anymore

you slowly walked to where your bag was and grabbed your bottle of water, finishing it in a matter of seconds. exhaustion filled every inch of your soul; all you wanted was simply go to your apartment, take a shower and go to bed.

you packed your things more than ready to leave, but as soon as you opened the studio door to step out of the room, you bumped into someone—your manager

“god… you scared me” you said as you pulled away from her after your soul left your body for a second, it wasn’t common to come across with someone at the building so late at night

“sorry, i’ve been calling you for hours and couldn’t find you, you need to come with me now.” she rushed with a serious expression on her face

“i apologize, i was practicing and had my phone on silent… is everything okay?” you asked slightly nervous.

“yeah… just come with me” she replied as she began to stomp away, you following from behind

both of you walked down the long hallways in complete silence, there was something unsettling hanging in the air—what could possibly be happening? and was this so serious they couldn’t wait until tomorrow to say it? it was the middle of the night and all you wanted to do was just go to your house, but of course something urgent had to pop out…

you were now standing in front of the ceo’s office, the sight of the dark door with his name printed in it only making you more nervous. your manager opened the door, and your eyes met with the last person you wanted to see at that moment

jeon jungkook.

jungkook was lazily sitting in a chair, his chin resting in his hand. next to him, was his manager as the ceo sat at his desk in front of all of the people present in the room

you looked at your manager in confusion, and all she did was nod her head at you repeating that everything was fine. you turned around and jungkook respectfully stood up and bowed at you, with you following after

“is everything alright…?” you asked while being absolutely lost about what was happening

“yes, everything is fine. we just called you to talk about what would you think about doing a collaboration” the ceo said with a calm voice

when he spoke, you noticed how tired he looked—at least more tired than usual, with dark baggy eyes hanging in his face.

“what? with who?” you asked even more confused than before

“well… with jungkook of course” the ceo answered you

everyone in the room was looking at you waiting for an answer. was this some kind of nightmare or what? you tried to keep it as a secret, but jungkook wasn’t your favorite person in the world to be real…

yes, he was an amazing artist and such a nice person too—actually you and him have plenty of things in common; both of you are the youngest of your group, main vocals and dancers too. most of the people would think you would have a nice relationship with him, but not precisely.

since the first day you met him, when both of you were still young and had no clue in the world, there was something in him that you didn’t like. it was the way he made everything look so effortless, like all the hours you spent practicing until your body became numb were useless, it seemed so easy for him

jungkook flashed that perfect smile through things without breaking a sweat. the way he danced the hardest choreographies without missing a single step while singing like an angel at the same time, would always get on your nerves

there was a fine line between admiration and a bit of jealousy of what you felt towards him, a weird mixture of respect and rejection. he was one of the most talented people out there and you could admit that without a doubt, but you hated the way he always made you feel small

it would be an honor to collaborate with jungkook if you didn’t compare yourself with him so much, and the worst part is that comparing yourself with someone else from a male group was completely ridiculous.

to make things better, it’s very well known by everyone that there is quite a big community of fans that ship you with jungkook—even though you have never had a proper conversation with him, it only took a single glance from you two to make fans go insane

people said there was a lot of tension between you and him, but it isn’t the one they think. they even make theories and speculations about you and jungkook having a secret relationship, and that only makes your dislike to him grow even more.

seriously, whose idea was this?

“you both are one of the best vocalists i’ve ever heard and would make such a good combination, the fans would go crazy and the views would be through the roof” the ceo kept speaking

jungkook just nodded his head at him and looked stupidly unbothered. you, on the other hand, were in absolute shock and about to blow up in anger—you prayed this wasn’t obvious on your face.

“well, what do you think?” they asked you and you genuinely had no idea about what to say. the ceo had a point; fans have been begging for a collaboration between you and jungkook for years and you did make a good combination, but you just don’t get along with him and that could be a problem

“umm, i should talk about this with my manager, right? i would love to but i already have a ton of work and it would be a bit complicated…” you explained hoping they would immediately cancel this project

“but she told us your schedule is pretty open, you only have your group projects and some other events, right?” jungkook added, you glared at him with dark eyes; you didn’t want to be mean, but wasn’t it obvious you didn’t want to do this at all?

a minute of tension lingered in the air, jungkook was looking at you with a calm expression plastered on his stupid face, almost as if he knew how much this bothered you

“oh yeah… i forgot.” you lied while you looked at him deeply in his eyes “well then, let’s do this” you agreed hesitantly with a clear fake smile

“great! you only have to sign a few papers and it will be all done” the ceo said as he handed both of you a pen and a pile of files to sign, this night couldn’t really get any better.

after what felt like an eternity, you finished signing all the papers with a storm of doubts clouding your mind. there was something so weird in all of this—what were jungkook, his manager and the ceo doing at the building so late at night? and why did this happen so quickly? usually it takes months to organize a collaboration between idols as famous you and jungkook, but all of this happened in the blink of an eye and in the middle of the night.

“done, now may i be excused?” you said handing the papers back to the ceo with a blank expression

“of course, have a good night!” he wished you as you stood up to finally leave that goddamn room

how could he wish you a “good night” after having probably the worst night of your life? this was the most out of hand thing that has ever happened you and minutes before, when you were dancing at your studio, you could have never guessed what was coming

as soon as you stepped out of the room, you began walking to the exit of the building and called your best friend who was also a member of your group, hyeri. the phone rang a couple times before she answered.

“girl, do you have any idea what time it is?” she spoke with a raspy voice, you had clearly interrupted her sleep but that didn’t matter for you now

“hyeri, i’m literally going to cry” you said as you grabbed the bridge of your nose in frustration

“what’s wrong? how many times have i told you you shouldn’t push yourself too hard and stay up so late practicing?” she asked worried, the sleepiness in her voice fading instantly

“no… it’s not about that” you clarified “i have a collaboration”

“oh. but that’s good, right? did you mean you were about to cry of excitement or what?” hyeri replied slightly confused

“no, it’s not good. i have a collaboration with fucking jungkook…” you confessed as you finally left the building

suddenly there was just pure silence, you didn’t even hear her breathing anymore. maybe you accidentally hung up

“hyeri? are you still the-“ you didn’t even get to finish the sentence when you heard an uncontrollable laughter on the other side of the phone, she was laughing at you when you were literally on the verge of ending your career just to avoid working with jungkook

“you think this is funny?” you asked a bit angry annoyed at her, you already had enough with all that had happened with jungkook and she has the audacity to laugh at you?

“i’m sorry…” she managed to say between her loud laugh “i’m so sorry…”

“hyeri, take a damn breath and then talk please” you said serious

“it’s just that, it’s a little funny to see how crazy jungkook drives you” she explained you while taking a breath “please don’t get mad at me”

“jungkook doesn’t drive me crazy. i just…

really don’t want to work with him” you defend yourself trying to sound honest but failing miserably “and don’t you think it’s weird? they told me just now, in the middle of the night and we already signed the papers!”

“well, i don’t agree about the jungkook thing, but there is something weird about this… why did it happen so fast?” hyeri wondered just as confused as you were

“right! what the hell is everyone’s problem? like me and jungkook have never had a full conversation ever, and now i have to do a fucking song with him?” you were venting to your friend as you were walking to your car until someone touched your arm

you jumped in surprise, almost dropping your phone and when you turned around, you met with the last person you wanted to see. jungkook was right in front of you with that usual look he had in his eyes, sweet but annoying for you

“sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you” he quickly apologized while you ended the call with your friend

“what do you want?” you asked completely avoiding eye contact with him, you thought if you looked at him you might actually snap in anger

“i just wanted to ask you which days we can meet to start with our song” jungkook explained you “i think we should meet on-“

“i’m sorry, but i don’t really have time for this now, can’t you just text me which days work better for you?” you rushed trying to end this conversation as soon as possible, plus you actually didn’t have the energy for this

“oh sure, i don’t have your number though” he said calmly “you can write it here” jungkook handed you his phone confidently

you wrote your number swiftly, sliding your fingers through the screen as he kept looking at you with his dark, brown eyes. you wondered why was he staring at you so much, but didn’t have the energy to confront him.

“done.” you returned his phone with annoyance

“thank you, i’ll text you later” he answered with a soft smile as you entered your car without even saying goodbye, you just wanted to go home and never see his face again—even though you would have to see it more often now

you started your car and drove away immediately, leaving jungkook standing there alone. you honestly didn’t care about it at the moment.

…

you had finally gotten to your sweet home, you left your shoes on the entrance and went to the bathroom, you desperately needed a warm shower. before stepping in the shower, you grabbed your phone to explain to hyeri why you had hung up out of nowhere when you noticed you had one message from a new number “jungkook”

“good night :)”

could this man just leave you alone for once?

“i didn’t give you my number for this” you replied dryly

“sorry” he simply wrote

“night.” you answered because you felt a little bad for being so mean, but not enough for wishing jungkook a good night.

you turned off your phone and threw it somewhere in the vanity and finally hopped on the shower, having your well deserved warm shower for once

as the hot water ran down your aching body due to the extra hours of practice you had, the pain slowly faded away—but now you had a new worry.

you slid your fingers through your face in frustration. there were thousands of other artists or groups who would die to even have an interaction with jungkook, why did you have to do a whole song with him? you could already imagine all the rumors and comments people would make when the company announces this

and let’s not get started about the fact that you now have to work with one of the persons you compare yourself with.

even though you would rather do anything other than this, you would have to cope with it and end this as quickly as possible.

the next morning you woke up in the worst mood ever, and were seriously considering in begging the ceo to cancel the collaboration with jungkook even though both of you had already signed all the papers

but your pride would never let you do that, because that would mean he had won. you were being harsh, rude, and probably dramatic—but you weren’t a quitter.

so you got out of bed, determined to not give up. you sent a text to jungkook saying that you could meet up every day; after all, the more time you spend working together, the faster this will end. he just answered with a simple

“great, should we start today?”

he did seem very excited to work with you, didn’t it bother him the way you treated him last night? you just agreed with a short reply.

…

“so, what do you want this song to be about?” you asked jungkook with a dry tone in your voice

he was sitting calmly in a chair next to yours, wearing his usual black hoodie and a pair of grey sweatpants that suited him perfectly. that’s another thing you despised about jungkook—he could throw the first thing he found and would still look stunning

he had his hoodie rolled up to his forearms, letting you see part of his tatted arm on full display. you traced every single tattoo with your eyes, completely forgetting that he was still there and you were staring a little creepily at him

“love” jungkook spoke out of nowhere

“excuse me?” you said confused, that word sounded particularly different when it came out from his pierced lips

“i’m talking about the song, what do you think about love?” he explained you while he leaned back in his chair, slightly spreading his legs to get more comfortable

you shifted in your place at the question “i don’t know, i’ve been making a lot of love songs lately” you replied trying to sound as confident as possible

“yeah, but not with me” jungkook shot back in a lower voice

the room suddenly felt smaller and the air thicker, you had never noticed how stubborn he could be. for a second too long, he was staring deeply into you with something unreadable in his eyes

“fine, what kind of love?” you said while rolling your eyes a bit, you didn’t really have the energy to question him

“hmm, i was thinking about forbidden love” jungkook suggested with a grin plastered across his face

“forbidden love, huh? i don’t think it’s bad…” you told him as you looked away from his eyes to think about it

“i’ll take that as a compliment” he giggled softly at your comment

“i just said that because i’ve never made a song about that before.” you clarified “so, any ideas for this forbidden love song?”

“actually, i have some” jungkook said “i want to talk about a love that even though is wrong—it burns in silence, where the looks speak louder than words and when it’s so addictive… you can’t stop it”

you were suddenly aware of the short distance between you two—jungkook was now so close your elbows were brushing faintly and you could smell his strong yet fresh masculine scent

“that can be a little problematic… don’t you think?” you murmured softly, feeling your skin burning and heart beating faster nervously

“you know i like trouble” jungkook spoke in an even lower voice, husky and deep at the same time

“i don’t really know you, jungkook…” you said while looking at his darkened eyes without backing off, when in reality you were on the edge of breaking

“well this is a perfect chance to get to know me, right?”

“umm, i think i need some fresh air… could you excuse me for a second?” you muttered, somehow trying to hide how tense you felt from him.

you didn’t even give time for him to say something before opening the door and literally bolting out of the room, face colored a bright shade of red and sweaty hands

your heart was racing as you rested your hands on your hips with frustration, walking side to side trying to brush your panic away. you two had only had a simple conversation, so you couldn’t find an explanation for the sudden raise of heat in your body—maybe you had a fever?

unexpectedly, the door cracked behind you with jungkook’s tall frame stepping out. your nervousness must have been painfully obvious, because at the first sight of your flustered face, his eyes widened instantly with concern

“are you okay…? you look a little flustered” jungkook read you as if you were a simple book, studying you from head to toe

“yes, i’m perfectly fine…” you rushed way too quickly “it’s just that i’m hot…”

“you’re hot?” jungkook asked with that classic teasing grin of his

your jaw clenched with annoyance as you glared at him “not like that, jungkook. i mean i’m boiling, i don’t know what’s wrong with me”

“oh, maybe you have a fever” he said as his smile instantly faded away to be replaced with a worried expression

without a warning, the back of his hand was getting closer to your forehead, clearly an attempt to take your temperature. as if it was second nature, you pushed his hand away a bit too harshly—if you were already like this just by a simple talk, you didn’t want to know what would happen if he touched you.

“please don’t touch me… i think i have to leave” you blurted out somehow feeling worse “i’ll text you later to keep talking about the song, see you” you added while walking away, leaving him standing there all alone once again.

desperate for advice, you drove all the way to your best friend’s house—but as soon as you got there and she opened the door, you knew that wouldn’t happen. because she laughed at your face, again.

“what the hell happened to you? you look so flushed” hyeri giggled at your expression as if it was something funny

“jungkook happened to me, and quit making fun of me.” you explained while stepping inside her apartment

“don’t worry, i would be like that too if i had to work with him” finally your friend was comforting you for once and for all

“right?! i don’t mean to be rude, but sometimes he can really be a pain in the ass”

“no i don’t mean that” hyeri looked at you confused “i mean he’s too handsome to not be blushing all the time like you”

you paused for a moment, turning around while glaring her with a piercing look. a minute of silence that felt more like an eternity followed

“you know, you are really starting to piss me off.” you warned her

“but it’s the truth! there’s nothing wrong with having a crush on him…” she defended herself

“but i don’t have a crush on him, i don’t know where you are taking that from!” you said widening your eyes with irritation “i came here for you to help me and you are only making things worse…”

“alright, i’m sorry. but seriously, what other explanation could there be for you to be like this only by talking to jungkook?” hyeri asked you

“i don’t know, maybe he just made me nervous… i would feel like this if anyone else got as close as he did today, right?” you replied while really stopping and thinking about it

“right.” she said suspiciously sarcastic “but for now i think you should go home and relax a bit, you are clearly too overwhelmed to deal with this”

“yeah, i’ll just talk to jungkook later i guess…”

…

despite not wanting to do any of this, you would never dare to put no effort into your work, especially when your fans had been begging for this for such a long time—plus you have never made a song about a prohibited romance

so that’s how now you were sitting in your desk chair with your notebook open, where you wrote all your lyrics and concept ideas. the page was filled with crossed-out lines, odd sketches and messy, almost unreadable handwriting—mirroring the chaos in your mind.

you took your time with your song, even coming up with some lines for it. you wrote it carefully, building it piece by piece mindfully. as you worked through your ideas slowly, you were shaping it so it would fit jungkook’s style too. you just felt completely lost when it came to the title, nearly tearing your hair out trying to think about it

you leaned back in your chair, running your hands over your face while taking a deep breath in frustration

you couldn’t help but overthink about it, because for some reason the thought of jungkook disliking your ideas made your chest heavy. the fact that you didn’t like him didn’t mean you didn’t want to do your best.

you kept staring at the page, absentmindedly dragging your pen across it, doodling a line. that’s how all of this felt, as if there was a line between you and jungkook that didn’t allow you to reach your full potential, one you couldn’t cross even if you wanted to…

you froze for a second. that was it… a line, a redline. it fit the song perfectly, a love where there’s a redline you can’t cross even if it’s the only thing you want in the whole world

as if by magic, you felt a sudden burst of inspiration—the lyrics written by your hand almost effortlessly, the words just flowing out of you naturally while you pictured the choreography all at the same time. you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel a bit of excitement now.

before you knew it, you already had a whole draft of your song. you smiled softly while looking at your work, you felt proud of it and that wasn’t something common for you at all

now all you had to do was just show it to jungkook and hopefully he’ll like it and won’t dismiss the hours of effort you poured into it.

you grabbed your phone to send him a text saying that you finished writing a sketch for the song, and to your surprise, he had already sent you a message

“hey, let me know if you’re okay, you looked pretty tense earlier”

my god, were you seriously that obvious? you could feel your face heating again while you remembered your very particular interaction with him moments before

“yeah, i’m fine. i don’t really know what got to me” you replied, not even a second after jungkook had already read your text and started typing

“that’s good to hear, but i really wished we had spent more time together to keep talking about the song” he texted back

you didn’t pay much mind to what he said except for the song thing, not wasting any more time to tell him you already had some ideas for it

“speaking about the song, i have some ideas for it written in my notebook and would like to show them to you”

“that’s great! i didn’t know you could write lyrics that fast, you’re good at this” jungkook complimented you

“so when can we meet again so i’ll show the to you?” you replied completely ignoring his praising

“is tomorrow morning good for you?” jungkook asked you

“sure, i guess i’ll see you then” you answered

“good, see you tomorrow :)” he sent you and you caught yourself scoffing at his text, you just thought it was curious how unbothered he seemed to be towards your dry texting and mean attitude, was he like this with everyone?

maybe you were just discovering new sides of him you had never taken the time to notice—not that you wanted to make some time for that anyway. but getting to know him a little better was intriguing in someway. it felt like you wanted to know every single detail about his personality, except that you would probably dislike him even more, because he is jungkook after all…

…

the next morning you finally woke up after turning off all of the alarms you had set, getting out of bed with the last one. you squinted your eyes still half-asleep, why did you accept to meet up so early? you couldn’t even think straight at this time of the day but you still agreed to it with no second thought.

lazily dragging your feet against the cold floor, you walked slowly to the kitchen. you couldn’t start your day without your daily warm cup of coffee, with such an unhinged amount of sugar that all you tasted was its sweetness

you poured a little milk in your favorite mug, warming it up in the microwave to the perfect temperature. everything was ready, you just needed the coffee. but when you opened the cabinet, you were surprised to find that you had no coffee left.

you had been so clouded with all the sudden work you had with jungkook, you hadn’t remembered to restock the most important thing in your life. now you were left with just a simple cup of milk and an empty stomach, and of course you were already running late because of all the alarms you had ignored

it seems like you would have to go through your morning without your beloved coffee

running to the bathroom, you got ready as quick as you possibly could. you packed the notebook into your bag while you brushed your teeth at the same time.

you drove to the building like a maniac to get there dangerously fast. you hated people who were always late, so you didn’t want to be like that with someone—even if it was jungkook

“sorry, did i keep you waiting for too long…?” you spoke almost breathlessly when you finally got there because you had run all the way to the studio

“morning, don’t worry i got here just a couple of minutes ago” jungkook greeted you with his usual kind smile, the metal in his lip piercings shining under the light

“good, should we get started?” you asked as you took a seat in a chair near his

“yeah, before that i bought you some coffee” he said as he handed you a cup “if you are usually grumpy, i don’t want to find out how you are in the mornings” jungkook joked

you just looked him in the eye for a second, it was as if he had known that was exactly what you needed beforehand

“i don’t find that funny, but thank you” you fumbled a bit stunned by the coincidence

you wasted no time in taking a sip of it, and as soon as you tasted the warm foam in your mouth, you realized that somehow he had gotten your order exactly right. he must have noticed your confused expression because he chuckled a bit at your face

“how did you know this is how i like my coffee?” you asked with your brows furrowed in confusion

“i don’t know, a hunch maybe” he replied not taking his big brown eyes off you for a second

a soft laugh escaped your lips without you even realizing, and for a moment, you saw a spark light up in jungkook’s eyes. this was probably the first time he got to hear your laugh in his life, so he must be a little surprised.

“anyways, yesterday i wrote some ideas for the song in my notebook” you continued as you took it out of your bag “tell me what you think”

jungkook kept looking at you as if your laugh had hypnotized him and put him in some kind of trance. his brown eyes sparkled while you handed him your notebook—but he remained completely stiff, without even seeming to blink

you coughed lightly to drift his attention back to earth. he quickly snapped out of it and grabbed the notebook as he apologized. jungkook’s eyes were now focused on the lyrics you had written in a burst of inspiration yesterday, they scanned the words with curiosity in them

but when his brows furrowed just a bit, you immediately noticed it. the thought of him not liking your ideas and tossing them out, invaded your mind once again. you didn’t even know why this affected you so much, you didn’t even want to do this at the beginning.

you could feel your heartbeat rising in nervous anticipation, he was probably just really focused and nothing weird…

not even a minute after, jungkook pressed his tongue against his cheek while he leaned back in his chair. doubts about everything you had written hit you like a wave, you unconsciously started biting your nails as he

kept reading.

“is everything alright…?” you blurted out not being able to hold your uneasiness anymore

he took a second too long to answer, an uncomfortable silence lingering in the air “yeah… it’s just-“

“if you don’t like it, it’s fine. i can rewrite or think of another concept” you rushed just to avoid hearing jungkook say something you didn’t want to hear from him

“no, it’s not that” he clarified as a scoff escaped his lips “this is so good, i’m impressed”

“wait, seriously?” you asked confused

“seriously. i had written some stuff too, but i think this is just on a whole other level” he explained as he kept analyzing the lyrics you had scribbled

“it’s just a draft anyway” you said trying your best to hide your excitement at his compliment

“but the concept you worked on is perfect for the song, a redline is exactly what i wanted to talk about” jungkook said brightly “and the lyrics are amazing too…” he added almost as if he couldn’t believe his eyes

all you could do was sit there, completely stunned by his comments “i also have some ideas for the choreography, if you want to hear them”

“of course” jungkook replied with a kind smile

“well, i was thinking that since the song is about a line that can’t be crossed, it would be a good idea if in the choreography we get really close but never actually touch”

“that’s interesting…” he said while he slightly tilted his head up thinking “it would be as if there literally was an invisible line between us, it would build so much tension”

“exactly, what do you think?” you asked jungkook, a bit eagerly because he understood your idea

“i think you are really smart.” he confessed with a serious yet honest expression “i don’t know how you came up with all of this in just one day, it’s perfect”

“it’s not that big… just something that popped up in my mind” you answered with your cheeks tinged a faint shade of red. by this point you didn’t even care how obviously flushed you looked

“no really, most people don’t get what i want to talk about in my songs, but you understood it immediately” jungkook spoke with sincerity as he smiled

all you could do was simply look at him with bright eyes, you felt so happy one of the persons you admired the most was complimenting you like this—it almost felt unreal. you felt something funny in your stomach and your rapid heart rate was beginning to be something to worry about

jungkook stared at you too; his smile making his cheeks round while his big brown eyes sparkled, causing him to look ridiculously cute. him being this close allowed you to see tiny details of his that people couldn’t notice; the scar on his cheek, the tiny moles all over his skin and his soft, plump lips that looked even prettier when you were this close

“are you okay?” he interrupted your daydreaming without a warning, you couldn’t recall when he stopped looking at you

“yeah, absolutely—i was just thinking that… we may be a good team…” you lied awfully obvious

“wow… i didn’t know you had a kind side” he joked, completely ruining the moment

you sank into your chair with your usual attitude returning. all he did was simply laugh at you as if your face was the funniest thing he’d ever seen, what the hell was wrong with him? one moment he can be the kindest man you’ve met, and the next, the most insufferable one.

that’s how the following days went—blurry and exhausting rehearsals, studio sessions, long hours spent analyzing lyrics and melodies. your schedule was practically consumed by jungkook

but somewhere between glances that lasted longer than necessary in the studio mirror, and quiet moments sitting side by side, things started to shift in an unusual way—you were actually enjoying this…

you realized this one night that you had stayed late practicing once again, just like the one you found out you would have to work with jungkook. you walked alone through the building’s long hallways, the only thing on your mind being just your comfy bed, when you suddenly heard loud music coming from far away

you could recognize it anywhere, that melody could wake you up from a coma; it was the redline instrumental. you followed the music with curiosity, and when you got to the room where it came from, you weren’t really surprised.

the door was slightly open, but it was enough to let you see jungkook dancing just like you had been a couple minutes ago. he was putting so much energy into it and was so focused he didn’t even notice when you cracked the door open to have a better view

his skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, causing his dark hair to stick to his face and soaked shirt clinging to his very toned body. you could admire every muscle in his huge back and all the veins in his forearms with so much detail it should be illegal.

and let’s not get started with how he dances; every movement he does appeared to be perfectly calculated and unrealistically precise, he made every step seem so swift and beautiful. you were hypnotized by the way he moved

“enjoying the view?” jungkook pulled you out of your own world with his classic teasing tone

“i was just watching how you dance” you quickly explained yourself a little embarrassed

“so, how do i dance?” he asked already knowing the answer, he just wanted to hear it from you

“i didn’t know you stayed practicing until late, thought i was the only one” you ignored his question with no shame at all

“i always do” jungkook replied as he grabbed his bottle of water and took a long sip, you were mesmerized by the way his adam’s apple bobbed with every swallow “are you nervous?” he asked all of a sudden, you must have been staring a bit creepily for him to ask that

“you think you make me nervous?” you chuckled at his delusion, even though he did in fact make you nervous

“i’m talking about the collab announcement in a few days.” jungkook clarified with a knowing smirk, almost as if he knew how hard it was for you to concentrate with him looking like that

“oh. well not really, what would i be nervous about?” you said feeling a little humiliated after you terribly misunderstood his question

“c’mon, you know people love to ship us”

you widened your eyes and felt your blood boiling under your skin after hearing him say that. of course you knew your fans shipped you with jungkook—it was one of the things that annoyed the most about him, even though it wasn’t even his fault. it was just weird him saying that right in front of you, he seemed really aware of the rumors anyway…

“people love to talk, and they will always no matter what. so no, i’m not that nervous” he nodded in agreement at your thoughts about it

“don’t you think it’s weird that they paired us for a collab anyway? i mean everyone knows about the ship thing” you asked wanting to know what his opinion was

“not really. you said it the other day, we are a good team” jungkook replied calmly with a soft smile on his face, and even though you didn’t like to admit this, he was right.

you and him were a perfect couple (for singing, of course). every rehearsal ended with people looking for too long even after it had ended long time ago, it was how naturally perfect you performed as a duo

your voices sound heavenly whenever you sang in unison. they contrasted fantastically; different enough to stand out but similar enough to blend together too. and both of you moved like you had practiced together for years, matching each other’s movements even in the hardest parts of the choreography.

it was nothing but pure chemistry

“i guess so…” you confessed, thinking that what you had said as a lie a couple days ago, may actually be true “but anyways, i have to go, i’m dead on my feet”

“yeah, me too” he added as he packed his stuff ready to leave too. you turned around to walk away, not before pausing for a moment and looking over your shoulder to see him one more time

“good night” you simply said with a gentle smile, jungkook looked astonished at your kind gesture. it was kinda funny how surprised he reacted to the most simple things you did, his eyes would visibly widen and lit up with a cute brightness—you knew he really noticed how much your attitude changed

before giving him time to get out of his trance you walked away, leaving him frozen in place with his mouth slightly open. you had to hold back a laugh because of how stunned he looked just by you saying “good night”

later that night, when you were peacefully laying in bed, your mind kept drifting back to jungkook. you couldn’t help but think how maybe you and him had more similarities than differences

when you saw him dancing all alone in the practice room, sweat clinging to his body and heavy breathing, he reminded you a little of yourself. you had always thought it didn’t take much effort for jungkook to be as perfect as he was, but now that you were working with him, you realized you were terribly wrong.

you had spent so much time trying to find every kind of flaw and excuses to be annoyed by him, you had never stopped to actually get to know him a little better. after spending almost every day with him, now you could say that jungkook wasn’t as effortlessly perfect as you thought, he worked so hard for it just like you

he was hardworking yet kindhearted at the same time, pouring his heart into everything he did but never losing his passion—and all of this only made that funny feeling in your stomach grow even more intense

…

a few days had passed, and today was finally the day redline would be announced, precisely at midnight. the company had been teasing the song for weeks before the official announcement dropped

the campaign was almost cruel for the fans; first it was mysterious countdowns with no explanation, then short glitchy clips of you and jungkook’s blurred silhouettes dancing under flashing red lights, and lastly, a ten second clip of just a black screen with heavy breathing sounds of both of you in the background, a red light flashing occasionally in it

without even actually revealing that much, the fans were already going mad. they tried to connect the dots and find out what this whole thing was about, even trying to predict the song name, concept and who would be in it—you and jungkook giggled watching all of this, a collaboration between you two seemed so impossible for them, nobody had guessed anything right.

now he was sitting next to you, late at night waiting for the final announcement to drop. you felt your heart racing with anticipation and none of you could sit still—you didn’t know who was more excited for this, you and jungkook or your fans

when the clock hit 00:00, it finally dropped—it wasn’t even a trailer, it was just a poster of you and jungkook facing each other, staring deeply into the other’s eyes. your names were at the bottom, the release date above them, and the title redline written vertically between you and him. red lighting enhanced both of your features, making everything look sharp yet intense.

within seconds the internet lost its mind. every possible platform was flooded with reactions, edits and desperate countdowns. it didn’t take long for hashtags about the song to climb on the trending charts, it was almost impossible to scroll through any social media without your names being everywhere. everyone was sent into chaos in the best way possible

you smiled to your phone as you processed all of this, the brightest smile plastered on your face as all the staff cheered happily while cracking open bottles of soju to celebrate. you were so overwhelmed with excitement, you didn’t even notice jungkook wasn’t looking at the screens or even smiling, he was just looking at you

it was as if nothing else mattered at the moment, he simply stared at you with his big brown eyes, they were glowing as always but with something strange in them… he was particularly quiet, a faint smile rested on his lips while his eyes seemed to be locked on you.

“isn’t this beautiful? everyone is so excited!” you exclaimed without taking your eyes off your screen, stunned by the instant blow-up

“yeah…” jungkook answered in a calm voice with a hint of happiness, you were so amazed you didn’t notice the way he kept looking at you.

eventually the celebration died down little by little, staff members leaving one by one until only you and jungkook remained in the dimly lit room, empty bottles of alcohol decorating the table. you threw yourself onto the couch where he was already laying after saying goodbye to your manager

you hadn’t drunk that much, but it was enough to make you just a little tipsy. your cheeks and ears were painted with a soft pink and your eyes felt a bit heavy. you turned your head to look at jungkook but he was already staring at you

“what’s wrong with you? you are being weirder than usual…” you blurted out as you shamelessly got closer to him. you had been so busy thanking everyone and celebrating you hadn’t talked to him almost all night, and now you were starting to notice there was something off

“weirder than usual, huh?” jungkook answered with a smirk “don’t worry, it’s nothing” he assured as he looked away from you for a second

“c’mon you can tell me, i’m good at keeping secrets” you insisted, moving slightly in front of him so your eyes could meet again

“really?” he asked with clear curiosity and you nodded proudly in response, making him chuckle a little “that’s great then.”

“why?” you said furrowing your brows in confusion

“there’s no fun in telling you now” jungkook told you as he got even closer to your face, the distance between you being so short you could feel his breathing against your skin

“you are so boring, you know that jungkook?” you joked as you pulled away, personally offended he didn’t want to spill the tea

“oh yeah? we’ll see about that” he said while pulling away from you “anyways, you want a ride?”

“what…?” you asked a little surprised

“to your house, you seem a bit drunk to drive” he clarified with a soft laugh escaping his lips, you didn’t know if he was doing that on purpose or if your mind was just too dirty

“right…” you said embarrassed “but don’t worry, i can just call my driver and-“

“but i want to take you home” jungkook kept going. you were about to decline his offer once again, but how could you say no to those big puppy eyes?

“i mean if you really want to, sure” you accepted while he smiled brightly in victory.

and that’s how you ended up in jungkook’s car, you were far too tired and buzzed to realize how this might look to anyone else. the ride to your apartment was strangely quiet yet peaceful at the same time

the city lights passed in blurry colors through the car windows, the only sound being the soft music playing in the background. neither of you seemed in a hurry to speak, but it wasn’t awkward at all, in fact you felt really comfortable with his presence.

every now and then, you could feel jungkook looking up and down at you before focusing back on the road again. it’s not as if you weren’t staring at him too… it was impossible not to—especially when his jaw tightened slightly as he drove skillfully through the streets, the way the veins in his forearm showed when he grabbed the steering wheel particularly hard, and how he lazily steered with just one hand

“okay, now you are the one being weird” he broke the silence all of a sudden

“excuse me? for what?” you asked, placing a hand on your chest dramatically in fake offense

“you won’t stop staring at me, it’s like you want to burn a hole through me” jungkook chuckled

“maybe i want to” you joked “but i’m just zoning out, plus you are staring at me too”

“it’s not my fault that you are pretty” he shot back

you completely froze at his comment. like anyone else you liked when people called you pretty and you were actually used to it—but it felt completely different when jungkook said it. the weird feeling you had a couple days ago returned, and stronger than before.

you felt so hot you had to take off your hoodie, your face turned a bright shade of red and butterflies filled your stomach as if by magic. you suddenly felt dizzy and flattered in the best way possible

“thank you…” that was the first time you thanked him for a compliment

“is it the first time you’ve ever been called pretty or what?” he teased after seeing your bright eyes and flushed face

“no, it’s just that it’s different when it comes from you, jungkook…” the alcohol still running through your system betrayed you. it loosened you up enough to spill things you were never planning to say out loud, especially to him

“oh yeah, and why is that?” he asked raising an eyebrow curiously

“well…” you stared at him deeply as you swallowed nervously “you kinda make me nervous, i don’t know”

there was a moment of silence, and when you took a better look at his face, it was painfully obvious he was holding back the biggest laugh of his life. when his eyes accidentally met with your confused face, he burst out laughing.

“don’t laugh at me!” you demanded slightly annoyed

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry…” jungkook repeated, trying his best to stop, but your face was making it really hard “it’s just that i didn’t expect that”

“it wasn’t even that funny.” you sank into the car seat “and you know what? since i told you a secret, you should tell me yours!”

“i already told you that there’s no fun in telling you now” he reminded you

“so you are hiding a secret from me, huh?” you said, narrowing your eyes suspiciously

“i’m not answering any more questions, tipsy” he smiled seeing you were even more annoyed “now get out and go get some sleep”

you turned around to find that you had arrived to your place, you didn’t know exactly when to be honest

“this doesn’t end here, jungkook.” you threatened him as you got out of his car

“yeah, whatever you say” he replied with a chuckle

“thanks for the ride, see you tomorrow” you smiled at him and walked away from his car to enter your building. he waited until you got inside safely, and eventually you heard the car engine driving away.

when you were finally at your apartment, you closed the door and slid down against it until you were sitting on the floor. you let out a deep, shaky breath with a bright smile plastered on your face

it was ridiculous how over the moon you felt just by him calling you pretty, but it wasn’t just that—it was the way he said it too, that husky voice paired with his dark gaze, and the way he played with his lip piercings when he said it… you were actually on the verge of losing it

your body felt warm in the best way possible, and without realizing it you were already pressing your thighs together just at the thought of his raspy voice saying those words.

before you knew it, your hand was sliding all the way down to your already dampened panties, you hadn’t even done anything and your cunt was dripping wet just by thinking of jungkook

you knew it was wrong, that you shouldn’t do this… but you couldn’t leave yourself like this. you started playing with your clit through the thin lace fabric, circling it in slow but steady motions. you didn’t even care you were still on the floor, you were far too gone to do something about it

the friction of the fabric against your hot core, only made you grow more desperate for real touch. you didn’t waste any time in pulling your panties to the side and spreading your thighs to get a better access

at this point you were so turned on your blood was boiling and your nipples perked up in an instant. you were switching better pinching your clit and dragging your fingers against it in a rougher way, you felt in heaven

you ran your fingers against your entrance only to find you were basically dripping all over the floor, you had never been so wet, especially for a person. you slid your middle finger into it easily due to how worked up you were

a whimper escaped your mouth when you shoved a second finger and began thrusting them in and out in painfully slow motions to drive yourself to the edge. you threw your head back in pleasure while your own squelching sounds filled the room

you started shoving your digits faster into your needy pussy, and loud moans came out of you while your face somehow got even more red with arousal took over every inch of your body.

even though your thighs were shaking and your back arched in search for more pleasure, you still didn’t have enough. your fingers couldn’t reach that sweet spot in your gummy walls that made you see stars

your mind couldn’t help but drift back to jungkook. you thought of the way his long, tatted fingers looked when he grabbed the steering wheel, they would probably hit every right spot inside of you

you curled your fingers even more in hopes of at least brushing that special spot, but it was useless. tears welled up in your eyes in frustration as you pushed your fingers even faster, desperate to relieve that thirst of pleasure

suddenly, the thought of jungkook calling you pretty invaded your head and that was enough to make your legs shake. you kept recalling the way his voice lowered when he said it and how he couldn’t keep his deep eyes off you

“j-jungkook, please…” you moaned as if he was there to help you

you used your other hand to pinch your perky nipples while you kept chanting his name as a prayer. a familiar knot formed in your lower belly and you used that hand to pinch your clit again instead, your moans and shaking body were now uncontrollable

when you pinched your clit specifically hard applying the perfect amount of pressure into it, that knot suddenly unraveled without a warning and you came undone in a matter of seconds—a shocking wave of pleasure hitting all your body, making your toes curl while you gushed your juices into your own hand.

you were left panting with a light sheen covering your skin, you had done this a thousand times but it was never this intense. you got up and with your trembling body you went to bed, you felt exhausted after such a rush.

…

the sound of your phone ringing woke you up from your deep sleep, you blinked awake to grab it only to find that hyeri was calling you. as soon as you picked up, she was basically screaming into your ear.

“girl, congratulations! i can’t believe you actually did it, i was starting to think you would give up!” she spoke excitedly on the other side of the line

you grabbed the bridge of your nose, slightly annoyed “huh? congratulations for what?” you asked confused in a sleepy voice

“um, for the announcement of your collaboration with jungkook?” hyeri said in a sarcastic tone

as soon as you heard his name flashbacks of what you did yesterday flooded your mind, you froze in place unable to form a single word as you remembered every detail—the way you kept repeating his name, how your thighs trembled and the intensity of your orgasm. post-nut clarity hit you a little late, and you were just now realizing what you had done

you masturbated to jungkook. and not even jungkook himself, but just to the thought of him.

“…are you there?” your best friend suddenly asked

“yeah, sorry it’s just that i was sleeping” you said, quickly shaking yourself out of your thoughts “thank you so much hyeri!”

“so, how are things with jungkook? is he still giving you butterflies?” she joked

you choked when you heard her say that, if she only knew what kind of butterflies he gave you last night…

“oh, well things are definitely better. i don’t think he’s as bad as i thought” you replied trying your best not to sound nervous

“i knew it, you love him” hyeri said with confidence, knowing damn well she was getting on your nerves with her comment

“and i hate you, you know that?” you shot back sharply, of course you didn’t mean it but she was about to drive you insane

“you didn’t deny it!” she kept going while completely ignoring your annoyance

“cut it out. anyways, i have to go to practice. see you soon” you said trying to end this conversation before she teased you even more

“good luck with your boyfriend!” hyeri joked and hung up quickly before you could even say something back. you just knew she was grinning with satisfaction on the other side.

you ran your hands over your face with frustration, you couldn’t believe the effect jungkook had on you. you felt a mix of shame and guilty, but you would be lying if you said that wasn’t one of the best orgasms you’d ever had. all of this created a weird mix of emotions inside of you

you hopped in the shower, trying to wash all of that away and then get ready for practice. when you were about to get out and be on your way, you couldn’t find the black hoodie you were wearing yesterday. it was your favorite one and you wore it any chance you had.

you looked for it everywhere—in your closet, in the pile of clothes you had in your room and even under your bed, but nothing. that’s when you remembered, you had taken it off last night at jungkook’s car, but you weren’t completely sure

so you just got out and drove to the building, you would ask him if you had left it in his car by accident, and then he would give it back to you, all set!

when you entered the practice room, the first person you saw was jungkook. your eyes lit up when you spotted him, warming up calmly in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror

“hey! i was gonna ask you if i left my hoodie in your car yesterday. it’s a black one with-“

“no.” he responded dryly, contrasting with his usual happy energy

you went quiet for a second because of his sudden seriousness “oh, okay. it’s just that it’s my favorite, you know? when i couldn’t find it this morning i almost went crazy, but it’s probably somewhere in my room” you kept talking trying to make a conversation with him

he didn’t even blink, a blank expression was all you could see on his face—there was definitely something going on.

“is everything okay? you seem quiet…” you asked a little worried

“yeah, i’m just trying to focus right here” he snapped without even looking at you

“oh… okay, i guess i’ll just leave then” you murmured, while your heart sank and a knot formed in your throat. why was he suddenly being like this? have you said something that hurt him?

without warning, the music of your song began playing loudly, blasting in every corner of the room. you didn’t even have time to prepare yourself before having to run to your place, right in front of jungkook, ending up face to face with him.

he looked at you for the first time that morning, there was something dark and unreadable in his gaze that was a bit unsettling. when the first beat hit, you both stepped forward slowly, following the music with your steps

you stopped right before touching him, there was a short distance between you, but it was enough for you to feel his breath against your face. the second beat came, and you circled jungkook slowly yet measured. you reached your hand painfully close to his muscular shoulders when you were at his back, but never actually touching him

you noticed he was really tense, his whole back was completely stiff as you kept walking behind him. when you circled around his body completely, you ended up with your back facing him—and now came your favorite step.

you got down on your knees tantalizingly slow while his big hands ghosted your soft skin, his fingertips being so close to your waist it gave you shivers. without breaking eye contact, you slid your hands down your body once you were on the floor

you were still trying to figure out what was wrong with him. somehow his eyes were even darker now, making him look powerful and fearful, but in your eyes he just looked dangerously tempting

then you whipped your head all the way around, to rise from your knees and turn quickly so you and jungkook were facing each other again. the thing is that you got a little distracted trying to understand what was going on with him, you didn’t measure your steps correctly, and ended up with all your body pressing into jungkook’s

“stop the music” he said loudly and sharply “you got the steps wrong.”

“i know, sorry…” you apologized a bit embarrassed while you pulled away from his strong chest

“let’s start over again” jungkook demanded with a deep sigh, he was obviously annoyed

what the hell was wrong with him? he was usually really patient when someone made a mistake, he would be so nice and repeat things a thousand times if necessary without hesitation. maybe he just had a bad day or something…

but now you would get it right so you don’t bother him anymore. from the top, one more time—step forward, stop right before touching him, circle his body, get on your knees, and get up while you spin to meet his face again

this time you did it impeccably, every step in time and you were perfectly close yet distanced from jungkook’s body; or at least that’s what you thought.

“you are too close, again.” he spoke in a demanding tone

“but we are supposed to be close but not touching each other at the same time, remember?” you explained a bit confused by his comment

“you are still too close” jungkook shot back “let’s repeat it” he ordered while you nodded your head in response

for the third time, you repeated all the steps patiently. you didn’t know why jungkook had that attitude today, but you didn’t want to annoy him even more. when you did the spin once again, you ended in a perfectly measured distance from him—not too close but you could still feel his heavy breathing from there

“now you are too far away.” he added. you looked at him in disbelief, you were completely sure you had gotten it right this time

“so, first i was too close but now i’m too far away?” you asked while crossing your arms to your chest

“that’s what i said” he snapped back

that’s how the whole morning went, a back and forth between ‘too close’ or ‘too far’. by this point your patience was wearing thin and jungkook’s tone was only getting worse each passing minute. by the ninth time he corrected you, you had officially reached your limit

“too close again” he simply said, you noticed a particular spark in his eyes that made you feel he was doing this on purpose

“i’m not even touching you” you replied visibly annoyed. by this point the tension in the air was so thick, not only you and jungkook noticed it, but the whole staff too

“that doesn’t take away that you are too close.” he kept discussing

you took a deep breath, you had tried to be patient, you really did—but he was making it so hard for you “are you fucking with me, jungkook?” you whispered into his ear so only he could hear you

“i don’t know, am i? or are you just doing the choreography wrong?” he shot back, flashing an insufferable grin while he slightly kneeled down to whisper into your ear too.

“i’m not doing it wrong, you are just being a bitch for no reason” you shot back

“hmm, i think you are a bit too worked up to get this right” he said in that same deep, husky voice he used on you last night “let’s take a break, okay?” he told everyone with a gentle smile

he didn’t even give you time to say something back. he just left you in the middle of the room, fuming while you breathed heavily with anger. what the hell did he mean by ‘worked up’?

you could feel rage taking over every inch of your mind—your blood boiling in anger, the knot in your throat and your stomach tightening with fury, were impossible to control. you didn’t know what you had done for him to treat you like this, literally your whole attitude towards him changed because you were actually starting to like him (and a little bit too much)

you weren’t that mean, dry and rude girl to jungkook anymore. but the second you decide to give him a chance, he showed you one more time what a fucking idiot he can be.

and what you hated the most of this, was how much it affected you. since when jungkook has this effect on you? why did you even care about the way he treated you? he’s such an asshole, one that somehow still gets to you.

you had spent the whole day practicing that goddamn dance, it was all just an endless discussion between you and jungkook about you rushing the steps, lacking energy, not being in sync with him, or any other ridiculous excuse he found to simply correct you

the amount of years you had spent in this industry, allowed you to know you weren’t wrong. he was just trying to get into your head for whatever reason, and you were getting tired of it.

you had lost track of how many times you had repeated the choreography by this time, but what you knew really well, was that this time you definitely killed it. every movement perfectly measured, all the steps were at its time, and your energy was so strong you even impressed yourself

when the music stopped, both of you were left panting and covered in sweat. your faces were inches apart, your breaths mingling with a tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. you looked at jungkook deep in the eyes—giving him a challenging glare, knowing damn well you had just crushed it perfectly

“so, how did i do?” you asked confidently, with a defiant tone

“you are still not getting it” he responded while giving you an insufferable smirk “but don’t get too crazy, we still have time to practice even though we are wasting time”

you had to use the little self control you had left to not give him a big, fat slap in his stupid handsome face “are you kidding me? i did everything perfectly right” you said instead

“yeah, you didn’t. but you just asked for my opinion after all.” jungkook answered while he rolled the sleeves of his hoodie, leaving his tattoos on full display for you

you zoned out for a moment looking at his veiny forearms, staring for a second too long at his long fingers. flashbacks of what you did last night flooded your mind—the way you wondered how deep his fingers could go inside you, how you panted his name as if he was the one giving you pleasure, and how when you reached your climax the only thing in your head was jungkook.

“i hate you…” you whispered in a low voice that was barely audible, your face getting flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration

without even knowing if he heard you or not, you grabbed your things with fury and stormed out of the room with loud stomps. jungkook just stood there, looking at you as you walked away—he had never seen you so angry, not even the night when the collaboration was announced to you.

you spent the rest of day trying to find a reason of why was jungkook treating you that way—you hadn’t been mean to him lately, to be honest you’ve been too kind for your liking, so why was he being so rude? but after hours of deep reflection and criticism; you came to the conclusion that jungkook is simply a bitch for no reason, and you would never try to get along with him ever again.

…

the following weeks were terribly hard, you had to be next to jungkook all day, every single day because you were filming the music video. you had spent so much time with him you were actually starting to feel sick. the second your eyes locked with his, your stomach did a little flip with a mix of hate and nervousness

the worst thing is that his attitude came back to normal, he wasn’t as rude as the other day, but you wouldn’t forget the way he treated you that easily. he would try talking to you like usual as if nothing happened, you didn’t even answer him or blink an eye when he spoke. you just stared at him with a scarily blank face, to make it clear he had made a big mistake.

you were now sitting in the makeup chair in front of the mirror, the bright white lights around it giving you an unbearable headache. the makeup artist was giving your skin the final touches, making sure your blush and foundation looked perfect, while the hairdresser applied an insane amount of hairspray to you

you were wearing a matching, dark red leather set—a tight-fitting top that hugged your cleavage perfectly with a slightly too short fitting shorts, paired with knee high boots to match. the staff had already finished working with you so you went to the set, wishing to finish this as quick as possible.

it had been twenty minutes, and jungkook didn’t arrive at the set. your patience was starting to wear thin while you breathed heavily in annoyance. everyone was waiting for him; the red lights were turned on, the set fully ready and the cameras ready to roll

you couldn’t hold it anymore, so you went to look for jungkook yourself. the last thing you wanted to do was talk to him, but he was holding up the shooting for way longer than necessary, someone had to do something about it.

the heels of your boots clacked loudly while you stomped across the floor, looking for his dressing room. as soon as you found it, you were about to knock on the door with all your strength, but you ended up accidentally overhearing a conversation between jungkook and his hairstylist

“so, how are things with her?” his hairdresser asked naturally

you froze in place, you couldn’t help but wonder if they were talking about you. even though it was morally questionable, you pressed your ear to the door to listen a little more

“things are good” jungkook said while he let out a chuckle “she has an attitude, but nothing i can’t handle”

oh he better not be speaking about you, how could he dare to say you had an ‘attitude’ when a couple of days before, he was being an absolute asshole to you? without a second thought, you banged the door harshly with your fists. there was a moment of silence before jungkook opened the door with an unbothered expression, almost as if he had already known it was you behind it

“can you hurry the fuck up? everyone is waiting for you” you ordered angrily

he looked you up and down with wide eyes “you look really pretty…” he said with a soft grin

“i don’t remember asking for your opinion” you answered dryly, trying to pretend your stomach didn’t just flip the same way as that night “now please get done with whatever you are doing, and go to the set”

you didn’t give him time to say something back, before you walked away from him while fuming. did he really think he would get away with this just by calling you pretty again? well he was wrong, you didn’t have time to deal with his bullshit.

jungkook had finally gotten to the set, and for once and for all you could start filming the music video. you were now filming a part where your back was almost pressed to his chest—he had to trace your figure with his hands without touching you, all while you slowly swung your hips from side to side, and slightly tilted your head back so you ended up looking at his face

everything was decorated with red lighting, making both of your bodies look completely red under it. the cameras were on you as you tilted your head towards his face, and you were now realizing how close he actually was. you could see his face in full detail—his big round eyes, now looked sharper and darker due to the lighting, while his lip piercings shined, reflecting the red lights in them

you ran out of breath for a second, his lips were just an inch away from yours, and you could feel his fingertips ghosting dangerously close to your waist.

“wait” the staff interrupted while they cut the cameras “we need more chemistry, make it more charged” they explained

the thing that bothered you, was that you and jungkook used to have chemistry a couple days before—people were left mesmerized when they watched you two practice, it was as if you had been together for years. but that was before he treated you like shit the other day

he made you feel completely lost; one day he was a jerk to you, and the other he’s back to normal, even calling you pretty again. you took a deep breath, and got back to work, letting the staff know you were ready for one more shot.

you needed to get done with this quickly, you couldn’t stand jungkook’s presence anymore. you knew you needed that chemistry you felt once to come back, and you were willing to anything to get it back at least for a second

so when the cameras rolled again, your mind traveled back to that night—the night when you couldn’t hold it together anymore, and you fingered yourself to the thought of him. you felt dirty afterwards, but you didn’t regret it at all, not when you came so hard

you repeated the same shot again, slowly moving your hips from left to right while looking at him, as he traced your body with his big hands. except this time, you were thinking about how you shoved your fingers in your entrance at a fast pace imagining it was him instead, and the way you moaned his name shamelessly

your eyes locked with his, you could feel his rapid breathing from the previous dancing against your skin, giving you shivers from head to toe. jungkook’s jaw tightened for a second when your eyes drifted to his lips, and you could sense his breath hitching for a moment

“alright, that was perfect!” the staff yelled out “let’s take a short break and come back in a couple minutes”

you quickly got away from jungkook’s body as you walked to your dressing room. you could hear another pair of steps following you from behind, contrasting with the loud clicking of your heels. you stopped for a second as you slowly turned your head to see who it was, of course it had to be him

“what do you want now?” you asked with annoyance, rolling your eyes at him

“i just wanted to say you did a great job back there” jungkook smiled gently, was it really that hard for him to realize you didn’t want to talk to him?

you glared at him for a second before turning around and kept walking, completely ignoring his compliment. of course he didn’t give up though, he kept following you from behind, with his eyes hopeful for an answer

“aren’t you gonna answer me?” he asked while stepping in front of you on purpose, blocking your way

“i don’t want to talk to you jungkook, what part of that don’t you understand?” you snapped “now get out of my way” you said walking past him

you were now reaching for the dressing room’s doorknob and cracking it open, when suddenly he placed his tatted hand over yours and pushed the door shut

“what the fuck are you do-“

“why are you being like this with me?” jungkook asked with his classic puppy eyes, while he cornered you against the door

“are you kidding me? i should be the one asking that.” by this point, he was so close to you, all of his body was pressing against yours; making you feel pinned in an interesting way

“but what did i do? please, just tell me please” he begged, you had never seen him this desperate for something before, his duality was really impressive

“i won’t explain it to you. you should know by yourself what you did” you shot back, trying to push him away but it was useless. hitting his buffed chest was like hitting on a rock, he didn’t move back an inch even though you used all your strength

“i’ll do anything, but please just tell me what did i do wrong…” he pleaded backing away just a bit from you

a minute of silence lingered, “anything?” you asked

“anything.” he reassured

“well then just fucking leave me alone.” you demanded as you quickly turned around and got inside the room, locking it. you pressed your back against the door and slid down to it until you were on the floor, just like you did that night. jungkook stayed behind for a couple of seconds, before you heard him walk away

you knew he wasn’t dumb, he obviously knew what he had done—so why was he still asking you? it was as if he was doing this on purpose just to drive you insane, and if so, it was working.

…

weeks had passed, your song had finally been released, and saying the internet had lost its mind was an understatement—the music video blew up overnight, thousands of people going crazy over it on every platform, the song getting millions of streams in a matter of hours, and your names were trending everywhere. it was a worldwide sensation

but sadly, you couldn’t enjoy it properly. you were incredibly grateful for your fans’ support, yet the days dragged on, each one feeling longer than the last. being around jungkook was unavoidable—a chaos of interviews, rehearsals, and shows; it was as if there was no escape. even though he hadn’t been rude to you again, you couldn’t stand the mere sight of him. you wouldn’t easily forgive him for treating you like that when you thought things were getting better

despite your feelings, you forced yourself to act normal and smile for the cameras. you felt dishonest and fake, but you didn’t want your fans to get disappointed to know you couldn’t stand the man you supposedly had ‘chemistry’ with.

you already knew this would happen, but not this bad—the dating rumors had gotten worse and out of hand, people dissected every interaction between you trying to find any excuse to ship you, they speculated about a secret relationship, and made up theories about the most nonsense things you’ve ever heard

but the worst part of everything, was definitely the interviews, having to nod and laugh to play along made you rethink every single choice you had made in your life. you were now sitting beside him in an uncomfortable chair under bright lights, while the interviewer asked you questions that made your stomach tighten, because you were so afraid of saying the wrong thing

“you two have insane chemistry—or did you have to work on it?” the man sitting in front of you asked

you thought to yourself for a couple of seconds, choosing the perfect answer

“well, i’ve never worked with jungkook before—so when we got to work together was when i actually got to know him, i guess the chemistry is just something that grew between us along the way” you answered with a soft yet fake smile on your face

“in my case, i’ve always felt a special connection to her, so when they told us we would work together i was really happy” jungkook added “i guess i’ve always felt some kind of chemistry between us”

if you weren’t in front of thousands of cameras, you would have glared at him with a frightening expression on your face, what the hell was he making up?

“that’s beautiful!” the interviewer said with a bright smile “and you guys look really close in the video… are you actually like that off camera?”

“umm, working together demands a lot of time from us, you know? so even when we aren’t on camera, we spend a lot of time together. i guess in some way we are close then.” you replied, professionally hiding your annoyance

“that’s right” jungkook said “we are together most of the time because of our work, so we are close in a way. but i would like to get closer to her in other ways”

the hell did he mean by ‘other ways’? he was being especially weird today…

the interviewer nodded along “and what’s something that surprised you about working together?”

“i was really surprised by his duality.” you replied while looking at him deeply in the eyes “one moment he can be a person, and the other one he can show you a side of his you have never seen before” you continued with slight rudeness in your voice, one only he could notice

jungkook looked at you confused for a second before answering the question “uhh, i guess i was surprised by her talent. don’t get me wrong, i already knew she was a very talented woman, but you really get to know it when you work with her.”

“good, to end this—if you had to describe each other in one word, what word would it be?”

that was a hard question, you could describe him in many words; such as annoying, insufferable, irritating, handsome, hot…

“that’s a tough one” jungkook answered before you “it’s hard to describe her in just one word, but i would say challenging…”

you raised an eyebrow a little bothered by his choice “if i had to describe jungkook in one word, for sure i’d say intense” you remarked the word with a special tone

“that’s interesting” the interviewer said “well that’s it for today, thank you so much for joining us today!” he continued as you both greeted him as well

when the cameras stopped recording, the interviewer came up to both of you and stopped in front of you for a moment, while you looked at him a bit confused. without warning, he grabbed you by the wrist and kissed the back of your hand

“it was a real pleasure to meet you, i hope we see each other again” he spoke in a low voice

you were left completely stunned and a bit disturbed, there was no need to kiss your hand, he could’ve shaken it or something else. you were visibly uncomfortable—your shoulders had gone stiff and you froze with surprise. without warning, jungkook suddenly grabbed the man’s shoulder firmly and whispered something to his ear you didn’t get to hear

“sorry, i shouldn’t have done that…” he apologized with a trembling voice, you were curious to know what jungkook had said for him to apologize so quickly

you just walked away from the situation, still feeling uneasy with all of it. you could hear jungkook stomping angrily behind you. you turned around to look at him, and he was fuming, somehow he was more annoyed by the situation than you

“and why are you so angry?” you asked as you stepped out of the building, waiting for your driver to come pick you up

“i just don’t like people disrespecting you.” he responded, pressing his tongue against his cheek with rage

he was ridiculous. literally just a couple of weeks ago he had disrespected you too, or at least he made you feel like it “you’re unbelievable…” you scoffed

your driver had finally arrived, and you quickly got in the tinted-window car, feeling unbelievably frustrated and tired of everything. jungkook just stood there, with his usual big, puppy eyes that made you rethink how mean you were being to him.

as soon as you got in the car, you let out a big, deep sigh. your mind was filled with doubts—why was jungkook so angry about this? why was he so mean the other day? and why did you care so much about it? you had never really liked him, but he wasn’t a big part of your life, now he seems to be the only thing you can think about

his adorable big eyes, his charming smile, the way his face would light up whenever you entered the room, his tattoos, that cute scar on his cheek, his voice and his laugh, was the only thing in your head, and you hated it. you hated him for confusing you, for his unpredictable personality, but especially hated him for the effect he had on you

because this shouldn’t affect you this much, you shouldn’t care so much about him, but you did. you just wanted all of this to be over, you needed a break from everything, you craved peace. but sadly, this was far from ending—you still had to perform at the most important awards show, and of course win it

the pressure of it was eating your soul alive, but that didn’t really matter now. all you could do was lean your head against the window, watching the city blur past as the car moved; knowing that in a few days you’d have to be back under blinding lights, smiling for the cameras, and performing like nothing was wrong again, everything next to him, of course

your fans would be watching, cheering, and believing in you—it was something you couldn’t afford to mess up over him, you had to keep it professional at all costs.

…

jungkook and you hadn’t had a proper conversation since the interview day. you wanted to apologize for your behavior to him, because your relationship being like this might affect your performance in the awards show, but your pride didn’t allow you to. what did you have to apologize for anyway? he was the one who treated you wrong

plus, your interactions with him would end soon—your relationship with jungkook was merely for work, nothing else. so as soon as you perform at the show and win the song of the year award, you would cut him off completely and never talk to him ever again.

all you could do for now was practice for your performance and mentally prepare yourself for it. it was late at night and you didn’t even know what time it was. all you knew was that you had to get the choreography perfect this time

your breaths came out uneven as you pushed through it one more time, your body aching, limbs heavy, and sweat clinging to your skin like a second layer. your muscles didn’t even burn anymore, all you felt was numbness. the studio felt too big, too empty, every step echoing back at you while the pressure in your chest tightened, refusing to ease

most of the lights had already been turned off, leaving only a single one above you, creating a dim glow that barely followed your movements. it was only you, the darkness and the melody of your song—or that’s what you thought.

when the song finally came to an end, you spotted someone staring at you through the mirror. you knew perfectly well who it was without seeing his face, his presence was unmistakable to you

“how long have you been watching me?” you asked, still looking at his reflection

“actually, for a long time.” jungkook said while his frame emerged from the darkness, letting you see him fully “you know? i noticed that when you are really focused on something, you don’t notice what’s going on around you…”

“what is that even supposed to mean?” you asked with annoyance, as he got closer to you, ending up face to face with you

“it means that you’re so focused on working and being perfect, you don’t notice me” he explained with a low voice

you let out a chuckle “oh trust me, i do notice you jungkook. more than i would like to admit” you said as you turned around to get back to practicing again

“oh yeah?” he said in a playful tone “is that why you’re always so angry at me?” he asked while he positioned himself to practice with you too

“i’m always angry at you because you’re an idiot.” you shot back. redline began playing in the background once again, both of you dancing in unison

“i’m smarter than you think” jungkook said, for some reason it almost sounded like a warning

“oh my god stop, you’re gonna make me laugh” you spoke in a sarcastic tone. you were now practicing the step that had sparked your hatred for jungkook—the spin where you had to get up quickly.

when you did it, your eyes met his, they had something especially dark in them tonight. “too far away.” he simply said, with that insufferable grin on his face

“fuck…” you breathed “are you still with that shit? i’m perfectly close to you” you explained as you rested your hands on your hips with frustration

“no seriously, you are too far away from me.” he insisted, there was something weird in the way those words came out of his mouth “let’s do it again, i’ll show you”

you gave him a deadly stare before returning to your position to do it all over again, just because you wanted to give a perfect performance to your fans, not because he was right.

when the sound started playing in the studio one more time, you repeated the choreography again normally, until the spin. while you were raising your body to end up face to face with jungkook again, you felt his big hands grab you firmly by the waist and pull you closer to his body, yet not quite touching each other

“you are supposed to be right here” he said in a low, husky voice that made your legs tremble

you suddenly felt hyper aware of how close you were to him. you could feel the heat radiating off his strong body, his long fingers touching your skin, and his pierced lips just an inch away from yours. you couldn’t help but drift your eyes towards them—they looked really tempting tonight, perfectly plush and tinged with a light shade of red

when you realized you were staring too much at them, you quickly returned your attention back to his eyes. but he wasn’t looking at you either, he was staring at your lips too; as if he was craving something he shouldn’t. jungkook’s eyes returned to yours, and there was a moment of silence hanging in the air

your heart was beating impossibly fast, your skin was burning and the butterflies in your stomach came back, as if you knew what was coming.

without warning, his hands moved from your waist to your jaw, tracing your soft skin with his fingertips torturously slow, letting you feel every touch. jungkook held your head with both of his hands, he looked down at your lips once again and got closer to them; so close you could feel the coldness of the metal in his piercings, but still not kissing you

you couldn’t hold it together anymore, and you pressed your lips to his in a gentle, shy kiss that contrasted with the strong tension between you. his lips were soft and plump, the feeling of them in yours gave you tingles everywhere in your body. you suddenly pulled back from the kiss, looking at him a bit afraid of what you had just done

without wasting a second, jungkook pulled you into a kiss again. your breath caught when his lips met yours again, this time with more certainty but still gently. the kiss deepened slowly and passionately, your lips moving softly against his, as if both of you were memorizing the feeling

one of his hands came up to rest lightly against one of your flushed cheeks, keeping you close, and that simple touch sent a warm shiver down your spine. you melted into him before you could stop yourself, your lips responding in the same tender rhythm, unhurried and sweet

as you matched his pace without even realizing it, your hands instinctively found his shirt, gripping lightly while you leaned into him. you didn’t even have time to think before jungkook immediately deepened the kiss, and when you tugged his shirt harder, he let out a soft exhale into the kiss. the sound alone was enough to make your thighs press together unconsciously, as if it was by second nature

the kiss was escalating in a heated make-out session, and when he was about to get his tongue into your mouth, the sound of the studio door creaking open made you both pull back and jump

“what are you both still doing practicing at this time?” your manager asked “tomorrow is the award show and you need to have energy for it, go to sleep” she said a bit annoyed

“sorry…” you and jungkook apologized at the same time, still a little out of breath because of the kiss

when she stepped out of the room you looked at him with wide eyes, you could still feel his lips ghosting against yours. you had many questions that needed to be answered, you felt dizzy and confused, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it a bit too much

“i guess i’ll see you tomorrow…” jungkook said trying to catch his breath

“y-yeah” you mumbled with your legs still shaking a little “see you…” you blurted out while you grabbed your stuff and walked out of the studio rapidly.

that night you couldn’t sleep—it wasn’t because of the nervousness you felt for the awards, you didn’t even feel nervous at all, it was because of what had just happened with jungkook. it all happened so fast, you didn’t even have time to process what was going on before you were making out as if it was your last day on earth

you would’ve never guessed this would happen, sure you admit that jungkook had always been handsome to you, but so much that you would end up kissing him the night before the most important awards show?

he didn’t let you catch a break before doing something that left you like this—confused yet aching for more of it, you needed more of him. but sadly, you had to ignore the hot throbbing feeling down there, because even though you resented your manager a bit for interrupting you and him, she was right and you needed to get some rest for tomorrow. you didn’t have time to satisfy your own desires, you would deal with them tomorrow (hopefully with jungkook).

…

you were sitting in the makeup chair once again, a multitude of people working on your hair, getting your makeup ready for it to look flawless, and stylists fixing your long dark red dress for it to fit perfectly. you felt nervous, really nervous

your stomach was all in knots, your heart raced and you were breathing heavily, your whole body gave away your panic. but you weren’t nervous because of the performance going wrong or losing, because after so much practice you knew you’d do well, you were nervous because of jungkook

you hadn’t seen him in all day, you hadn’t spoken to him either. you were worried that the kiss had been a mistake for him, when it wasn’t for you. you knew it was wrong to catch feelings for him, and even worse kissing him, but to be honest you didn’t feel any guilt

you couldn’t deny you had enjoyed it a bit too much, and if you did your body betrayed you—the way your legs trembled, how you pressed your thighs together, how flustered you had gotten, and how wet you had gotten the moment his lips touched yours, gave you away completely.

you were done getting ready, and now it was time to get going. your manager called for you, and before you could overthink it any further, you were already being guided out of the dressing room

the ride to the venue felt shorter than you wanted, your mind was just too busy replaying every moment from the night before. you kept telling yourself to focus, to stop thinking about him, but you accepted your fate the moment you looked at him for the first time that day.

when the car finally came to a stop, the noise outside was already overwhelming. voices, cameras, people yelling your name, it all blended into one loud, chaotic buzz. the door opened, and for a split second you hesitated, then you stepped out with your heels clacking loudly into the floor

flashes immediately went off one after another, you forced a composed expression, offering a small smile to the paparazzi as you walked forward. you posed when needed, turning your head to the sounds of your name being called. you had done this a thousand times, it all came effortlessly and automatically, yet your heart felt nothing but calm

you tried to focus on the cameras, on the people, on anything that wasn’t him, but your heart wouldn’t stop racing. and when your eyes drifted to the side, there he was

jungkook was stepping out of his car with his eyes locked on yours. for a moment, everything else faded into the background—all the noise, screams and bright lights, faded away and all you could see, was him.

he gave you one of his charming smiles while he walked towards you. he grabbed you gently by the waist before whispering in your ear “you are supposed to be looking at the cameras” in a low raspy voice that sent shivers down your spine

you listened to him and grabbed him by the shoulder to pose for them, people went insane at this point. they wouldn’t stop screaming your names, and taking thousands of pictures of you with flashes almost blinding your eyes

without realizing it, you felt more calm in his presence. the second he grabbed you by the waist and looked at you, all your panic disappeared into relief for a moment, because you knew he was there to hold you.

after giving your autograph to some people and posing for the cameras, you finally entered the event. you spotted many familiar faces and friends who you immediately went to greet. as you talked to them, your nerves calmed down progressively. until jungkook joined the conversation too

you felt a swing of panic and calm in your body every time you saw him; you couldn’t even focus on whatever you were talking about anymore

“you guys have so much chemistry, it’s as if you truly liked each other! how do you do it?” one of your friends suddenly asked

there was a moment of silence in the air the moment those words came out of her mouth, ‘truly liked each other’. oh, how you wished you could tell her the truth, but even you didn’t fully know it

“well… it’s just professionalism, i guess” you said the first thing that came to your mind “you just learn how to do it” you added. your hands were sweaty, your throat dry and your skin burned as you spoke

when your gaze drifted back to him, jungkook was looking at you playfully as if he was enjoying this, as if seeing you this nervous was the most hilarious thing he had ever seen. you gave him a death glare for him to stop grinning, but it only made it worse.

minutes later, your manager came over to you and jungkook telling you to go backstage and get ready for the show. you had an outfit change waiting—you stepped out of the dressing room wrapped in an oversized red fur coat, the plush fabric draping over your frame and brushing softly against your thighs, paired with matching fur boots

underneath it all and hidden from the public, was a dark red leather set—a fitted corset that sculpted your torso and a mini skirt that hugged your hips perfectly. your hands were covered in fingerless leather gloves that reached just below your forearms, adding a touch of sharpness

from the outside, you looked simply covered by the fur, but you knew exactly what was underneath. and when the right moment would come, all it would take was a simple movement. you would let the coat slip off your shoulders deliberately, revealing everything at once, creating an abrupt yet bold shift.

you met with jungkook once again behind the stage, as soon as you stepped into the room, his jaw immediately dropped and words wouldn’t even come out of his mouth—and he hadn’t seen anything yet

“you look beautiful…” he blurted out with wide eyes, as he looked you up and down repeatedly

“thank you.” you murmured dryly. of course he noticed there was something wrong with you; it was the way you bit your lips unconsciously, how you fidgeted with the fur of your coat, and the way your leg was shaking uncontrollably that gave you away

“what’s wrong?” jungkook asked with concern while he grabbed you by the shoulder, a casual yet comforting touch

“sorry, i’m just really nervous…” you confessed as you looked at him, afraid of something going wrong

“don’t be.” he simply ordered “we have been practicing for months, especially you. and from yesterday’s rehearsal, i can assure you that we will do really good” he said, reminding you of what happened last night

you got flustered in a matter of seconds just at the thought of yesterday’s kiss, but he had a point after all “i hate to admit this, but i guess you are right” you agreed without hesitation

jungkook gave you a bright smile, feeling victorious. “you know, i almost couldn’t hold my laugh when your friend said ‘you guys have so much chemistry, it’s as if you truly liked each other’” he joked imitating your friend’s innocent tone

“stop!” you demanded hitting his arm gently, but you had to confess it was kinda funny

“what? i’m just trying to calm your nerves down” he giggled.

the sudden sound of your names and song being yelled out by a speaker let you know that it was showtime. both of you walked rapidly to your positions in the stage—the lights were turned off, all you could feel was jungkook’s presence in front of you, and somehow that reassured that everything was okay

when bright red lights lit up the whole stage, revealing you and jungkook, people immediately started screaming like crazy. redline began playing, and it was officially time to give everything you’ve got. you followed the steps to perfection, walking forward to him slowly but steadily, both of you singing your lines in unison

you could hear fans singing along with passion even through your in-ear monitors, and that gave you all the confidence you needed. the second step followed, you circled around jungkook sensually, threatening to touch him but never doing it

you could feel the heat radiating off his body even without touching him, you could see his adam’s apple bobbing as he sang angelically, and sweat beginning to cling onto his skin—but you had to keep your focus on the song.

the part was coming, the famous spin. you knew you had to put all your energy into it, so when you were getting on your knees before doing it, you took a deep breath. as you inhaled, you thought of all the feelings jungkook gave you—that night, all the anger and annoyance he made you feel once, transformed into something you couldn’t quite name or understand

you remembered the night when the ceo unexpectedly announced this collaboration, the first weeks you worked together when you couldn’t stand him, when by simply giving you your favorite coffee order your whole opinion about him changed, the night when he gave you a ride home and what you had done after, when he was mean to you next day for no reason, the filming of the music video, when he defended you in the interview, when you kissed

and that’s when you thought, it wasn’t so bad at all.

so you did it. you got up and turned around in the blink of an eye using all your energy, and you ended up in the perfect distance, the same jungkook had taught you yesterday. and that’s when the big moment came, you threw your fur coat somewhere far away on the stage, revealing the bold and shameless outfit underneath

the roar of the crowd echoed all over the building in a wild thunderous scream. you smiled to yourself when you looked at jungkook’s face, he was so stunned it was hard to describe—his jaw was practically on the floor, he was so wide-eyed making them look bigger than usual, and how they sparkled was as if there were literal stars in them.

the show followed charged with electrifying energy, intensity, and an unmatched atmosphere of the crowd. and when it came to an end, the public went impossibly crazier. they were all screaming your names to the top of their lungs, crying their eyes out with overwhelming, and cheering both of you up with their support

you smiled at each other, knowing that everything had been absolutely perfect. both of you bowed to the crowd with gratitude, before returning to your seats as they were about to announce the winners.

jungkook was sitting next to you, you were both breathing heavily still trying to recover from the performance as they announced different winners. you clapped cheerfully with a smile on your face while minutes passed, until it was time for your category. the presenter tapped on the microphone before speaking

“and the song of the year award goes to…” she said, letting silence linger for more intrigue and excitement

you closed your eyes in nervousness as you took a deep sigh to calm you down. without warning, you felt a big warm hand wrapping around yours, and when you opened your eyes you found the tattoos that you’d recognize in another life. jungkook was holding your hand firmly as he stared deeply into your eyes, he looked really calm and unbothered, almost as if he knew for a fact what would happen

“redline!” the presenter announced with a loud yell as she smiled after opening the award envelope

you looked surprised at jungkook almost as if you couldn’t believe this was happening, the audience celebrated with loud cheers, applause, and screams. he got up from his seat calmly and offered you his hand to help you get up too. you took it without hesitation as you both walked to the stage to receive the award, he didn’t let go of your hand at any moment.

the presenter gave each of you a hug as she congratulated you, and when the heavy golden trophy touched your hands, you felt glorious and proud of yourself and jungkook. he handed you the microphone to speak first with a smile plastered on his face

“oh wow…” you breathed “firstly, good evening to everyone, i’m so grateful to be here today receiving this amazing award. thank you so much to everyone and our fans for giving us the opportunity to win this, we wouldn’t be anything without you guys. this award isn’t only ours, it’s yours too” you thanked everyone with the biggest smile on your face

“but mostly, i wanted to thank jungkook” you admitted as the crowd cooed in unison “you’re an amazing person, thank you so much for letting me work with you, but especially for being so patient with me and helping me at any time i needed to without a doubt. it was such an honor to work with you” you confessed without hesitation now as you looked at him with bright eyes

“well, thank you to all of our fans out there that helped us win this, we appreciate every single one of you infinitely and truly, this award is yours too” jungkook followed you “and i wanted to say, you’re an amazing woman to work with and to have as a friend too” he joked knowing you were the only person there who would understand

“i admire you a lot and think that you are a fantastic artist, without you none of this would’ve been possible.” he said staring deeply into your eyes with a vulnerable look “i hope we can work together many times again in the future, and that our relationship remains at all costs” he confessed making your flustered once again.

when you finished giving your speech and thanking everyone, both of you got off the stage with everyone still cheering and clapping for you. you felt overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude, but you had a new problem now—you and jungkook were invited to the after party, and you knew he wasn’t going to let you walk that easily away tonight.

…

you entered the party wearing a sparkling ruby-red mini dress, the sequins catching the colorful lights and shining under them with every step you took. heads slowly turned in your direction as people still greeted and congratulated your win

the music was loud, buzzing in every corner with flashing lights filling the room. you spotted your friends standing by the bar, the sound of their laughter blending with the music as they sipped their drinks together

as soon as you walked to them, they squealed in excitement for you, filling the room with a loud wave of screams. in a matter of seconds, you were being tightly hugged by them as they cheered you up, telling you how much you and him deserved this.

“okayyy, now it’s time to celebrate!” hyeri smiled with a devilish smile as she pulled out a bottle of alcohol to take shots. on any other day you’d have kindly declined her offer because of how much of a lightweight you are, but you know what? winning the song of the year award with someone like jungkook doesn’t happen every day, so you have every right to celebrate with just a couple of shots, right?

the thing is that of course it wasn’t just ‘a couple of shots’, you and your friends had washed down the whole bottle in what felt like a matter of seconds, and it was already showing on you—a lazy warmth spreading all over your body, your head felt light and dizzy as if it was spinning on its own, your cheeks getting more flushed with every second that passed, and you were laughing hysterically at things that weren’t even funny

for a moment you had no worries, nothing seemed to be so big, and a strange feeling of calmness reminded you of him, the man that has been driving you insane for the last months. you hadn’t seen him in the party yet, but you could feel his presence, you could sense jungkook’s piercing gaze focused on you.

you began scanning the room with your eyes in search of him. you quickly found him, it was impossible for him to go unnoticed that night—jungkook stood out in any room he entered simply by his presence, but that night he looked especially attractive. the black shirt hanging loose on his buff chest, with the first three buttons unbuttoned, the long sleeve tattoo threatening to appear. he was playing with a half-full glass of whiskey on the rocks, already staring at you with sharp eyes

your eyes locked for a second, and just by him looking at you, you could already feel a heat pooling between your thighs. jungkook signaled you to come over to him with a simple gesture of his head, but somehow that made him look even hotter. you obeyed and walked towards him without hesitation, not breaking eye contact at any moment.

“i was looking for you” you said in a lower tone, whispering in his ear for him to hear you clearly

“started to miss me?” he teased with that classic playful smirk of his

you just chuckled in response “why did you call me?” you asked curiously

jungkook went silent for a second, playing with his lip piercings as he looked at your lips shamelessly “what? i can’t talk to you now?” he joked, drifting his gaze back to your eyes

“i don’t really think you just want to talk to me” you shot back as you stared at his lips too boldly

“oh yeah? and what do you think i want to do?” he asked with a grin, you could sense the change in his voice from calm to husky when you played along with him

“i don’t know, what you want to do, jungkook?” you turned the question back to him even more playfully, saying his name in an innocent tone, knowing damn well what you were doing

he took a deep breath as he pressed his tongue into his cheek, you enjoyed a bit too much teasing him like this “let’s get out of here, now.” he demanded

“but why? the party just started” you said pretending to be confused, trying to pretend you didn’t want to get the hell out of there too

jungkook got closer to your face, so close you could feel his heavy breathing against your skin. he lowered his face even more, his lips now brushing gently against your jaw, the coldness of the metal in them making you shiver

“please…” he whispered in your ear with a low yet deep voice, sending shivers down your spine

how could you say no to him when he asked so nicely? you just gave his lips a second glance, that was enough for you two to leave the party immediately and drive to jungkook’s place.

as you entered the big dark building of his house, you could feel your stomach tightening with anticipation and your heart racing with every step you took. a man had never made you this nervous, but of course he was the exception to everything

when you stepped into his living room, you looked around it in wonder and curiosity. his house looked exactly like him—the interior covered in deep black shades, furniture covered in dark leather, with dim lighting barely illuminating the room. the entire house carried his masculine yet fresh scent, making you feel overwhelmed with it in the best way possible

your gaze drifted to the coffee table resting in front of the black couch, your eyes widened with a mix of surprise and confusion when you saw it. you would recognize it anywhere; your favorite black hoodie was perfectly folded on top of the table so naturally as if you had left it there yourself.

“excuse me, what the fuck is this doing here?” you asked while turning around to meet jungkook again, as you held up the hoodie slightly waving it into his face

“what? it’s just your hoodie” he responded calmly as he threw himself into the couch, spreading his legs unbothered

“it’s not just my hoodie,” you clarified furrowing your eyes “it’s my favorite one, and when i asked you if you’d seen it you said no.”

“uh huh, so?” he breathed, you couldn’t believe he was actually doing this

“you lied!” you demanded “why would you say you haven’t seen it when you literally have it in your house perfectly folded?” you asked confused and slightly annoyed

“you forgot it in my house that night, and when i wanted to give it back to you… i think you were a little busy” jungkook remarked the last word with a playful tone

you were about to keep arguing with him, when you understood what he meant by ‘busy’. memories of that night came flooding back, he was talking about the night he gave you a ride to your house and then you fingered to the thought of him. you knew you had left your hoodie in his car, but how could he know what you did? was it possible that…?

“i really didn’t want to interrupt, you know?” he continued “as soon as i realized you had left your hoodie in my car, i was about to knock on your door to give it back to you, when i heard you.”

he had heard you, jungkook had fucking heard you fingering yourself. and not only that—you were moaning his name like crazy too

“i can see by your face that you’re worried if i heard you moaning my name, and yes i did” he answered your question before you even said it

you have never felt something similar—heat rushed to your face so fast you felt suffocated, your stomach twisting painfully as the embarrassment hit you like a wave so intense you could barely breathe or think. you wanted the floor to swallow you whole, you needed to disappear and never return again.

“don’t feel so bad” jungkook said with fake sympathy as your blood boiled with shame

you walked towards him, ending up between his spread legs with your arms crossed as a shield “why do you do this…?” was all you could manage to say

“do what?” he asked, pretending he didn’t know damn well what he was doing

“you drive me fucking insane jungkook” you whispered “first they told us we are making a collaboration together and you are suddenly the nicest person ever, second you drive me home and invade my privacy by basically spying on me, the next day you lie and be rude to me for no reason, but the next week you are back to normal again and then we fucking kiss?” you lectured him. you weren’t angry at all, you just wanted a logical explanation for his actions

“you still don’t get it, do you?” he simply said with a dark look in his eyes

“get what? please just tell me, why are you like this?” you asked desperately, not really caring about leaving your pride to the side just to get an answer

“let me give you some hints” jungkook spoke in a low voice. without warning, he suddenly pulled you into his lap, his hand resting casually in your thigh occasionally drawing lazy circles that were enough to make your pussy throb with need

“one night, i saw you practicing your group’s song with all your strength without even caring it was late. i had been checking you out for years but never had the courage to ask you out or something because i knew you didn’t like me” he started explaining

“the way you moved your hips to the rhythm of the music, how you threw your hair back, and how you were so focused you didn’t even notice me watching you, drove me insane” jungkook whispered in your ear with a raspy voice “that’s when i decided i was tired of you hating me. i didn’t even care it was the middle of the night, and i called the ceo to arrange a collaboration with you as soon as possible. i almost got fired for you, you know?”

you could feel your heart beating faster with every word that came out of his mouth, but things were starting to make sense—that’s why the ceo looked so tired that night… as his hand slowly slid up while he played with the hem of your dress, he kept confessing the things that had always been in plain sight, but you were too busy hating on him to notice

“that night you were so mad it was cute—how your brows furrowed and you made a little pout, trying to hide it but failing miserably…” jungkook kept speaking calmly as if his hand wasn’t about to get to the hem of your panties, his long fingers barely brushed your inner thighs but it was enough for you to get wet in anticipation

“was this what you were hiding?” you asked trying to sound relaxed, trying to keep your composure because he knew he was teasing you; but you wouldn’t show it, at least not now

“good girl, you are starting to get it” he whispered in your ear, letting his lips brush the curve of your jaw. you had to hold back a whimper when the first two words came out his mouth, you’ve always thought you didn’t like being called that, but jungkook only proved you wrong every single time

“and that night after giving you a ride home, i was about to knock on your door to give you back your hoodie—but suddenly i heard a weird sound coming from the other side” he explained as you got impossibly flushed “i pressed my ear to the door to check if i wasn’t going crazy, and you were actually moaning my name, shamelessly”

you couldn’t handle the embarrassment you felt at the moment knowing that he heard you moaning his name loud and clear, so you just looked down to the floor trying to avoid his piercing gaze

jungkook suddenly began pressing soft kisses into your neck as he whispered “don’t get shy on me now, i would be lying if i said i didn’t stay by the door listening to you being so desperate for me, i was so hard i was about to break the door for you to help me…”

knowing that your neediness and perversion wasn’t one sided and he felt it too, you didn’t even bother to hold back your whimpers anymore. his soft pecks turned into sloppy, open-mouthed kisses into your soft neck skin, leaving faint red marks on it

“i was surprised too, judging by your attitude, i thought that making you fall for me was going to be almost impossible” jungkook murmured against your skin “you’ve always had a weakness for me, right?”

“y-yes…” you muttered, he didn’t waste any time on sliding his hand to your hot center, playing with your wet entrance with his middle and ring finger against the fabric of your panties

“the next day, i already knew i could move forward—i knew pissing you off on purpose would really get on your nerves and make you think about me all day” he spoke casually while he circled your dripping pussy, occasionally catching your clit with his fingers and giving it a gentle pinch

your whimpers transformed into shameless moans, just like the ones he heard that night “so that day i made you repeat the same steps of the choreography, over and over again, even though you were doing them perfectly” he confessed “do you remember which steps were?”

you were now realizing how perverse and cruel jungkook could be, not that it bothered you anyway… you tried to form a word, but with the way he was pressing your clit with his thumb while he played with your pussy against your ruined panties, the friction of the fabric in your wet center making everything feel even better, made it hard for you to focus

he pressed a few more kisses to your neck as an encouragement for you to speak “i had to… i had to get on my knees and then get up” you managed to say with your own moans interrupting you

“good, now why do you think i made you repeat that step?” jungkook kept asking you questions as if you weren’t about to lose your sanity

you just weren’t able to say something back with the overwhelming pleasure you felt, spreading all over your body to your fingertips “answer me.” he ordered only to give your pussy a light slap that made you jump in response

you used the little energy you had left to think about an answer, and that’s when you went over the words you said ‘get on my knees’. it suddenly clicked—jungkook made you repeat that step over and over, because he wanted to see you on your knees

“because you wanted to see me on my knees…?” you said hoping it was the right answer

“what a smart girl you are, right?” he cooed as he grabbed you by your jaw and turned your head to make you look at him again “now why don’t you get on your knees and suck my dick, hm?” he said in a low husky voice.

as if it was by second nature, you got on your knees in the blink of an eye, ending up between his thighs. you looked up at him, and he seemed even more powerful like this, jungkook was looking at you with sharp eyes, impatient for you to do something. you looked down again, and you were met with his throbbing, thick bulge. it was staining against his black pants, and it looked big even like this

by this point, you were practically salivating at the sight of it, and you didn’t waste any time in unbuckling his belt and letting his cock spring free. you gulped when your eyes met with his big, thick and veiny dick. the angry shade of pink head was already licking pearls of precum with anticipation, throbbing with need

you took a deep breath before pressing a few kisses to it, switching between kitten licks too. jungkook furrowed his brows as a soft whimper escaped his mouth, in response you traced every single vein in his shaft to tease him even more.

you finally took him in your mouth when his thighs were slightly shaking with desperation, and he was big, almost too big. you didn’t even put all of him in you, and you could already feel his thick head hitting the back of your throat. you slid your hand up and down with what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, while with the other one you softly massaged his balls

jungkook wouldn’t let his eyes off of you as you took him in your mouth, the sight of you made him even harder “you look so pretty like this… taking all of me while on your knees” he said in a deep voice

that encouraged you to take all of him in your mouth, so you widened your jaw even more as you relaxed your throat to take him properly. you looked up at him when you lowered your head all the way, ending with the tip of your nose brushing the base of his dick, and he completely lost it

jungkook let out a shameless, loud moan when he felt his cock slide even deeper into your hot throat. he pushed his head back as he lounged on the couch with both of his arms stretched across the backrest. you could see his adam’s apple moving as he moaned and groaned boldly

you began swirling your tongue around his dick while you hollowed your cheeks for him to go even more crazy, but you wouldn’t have guessed he would go insane. he stopped holding himself back because he tried to be careful and gentle, but you were making this so hard

he grabbed you by the back of your head and started pushing your head even deeper, completely controlling your movements. the room was filled with gagging, and slurping sounds while jungkook fucked your face uncontrollably. the weird thing was that you were actually enjoying this.

all of this was sick—him making you go crazy for weeks on purpose only to use your throat like this then, was making your pussy drip with arousal so much you were ruining your lace panties. you squeezed his thigh a little to hold yourself because of his harsh thrusts in your throat. you pressed your thighs together trying to relieve some of the pleasure you needed while you kept taking him with no hesitation

“look at you… turns out you didn’t have such a strong attitude at all, all you needed was for that pretty mouth of yours to be filled with my dick, right?” jungkook said while he breathed heavily, thrusting his hips impossibly closer to your mouth

you hummed a lazy response, and the vibrations of your voice in your throat made him feel even better. you could taste the saltiness of his precum in your tongue as he kept thrusting with no mercy. you looked up at jungkook and batted your lashes prettily at him, your eyes looked so innocent for what you were doing, gagging on his cock with a mix of his pre and spit sliding down your throat

the simple sight of that was enough to make him cum. he pulled you by the hair harshly, causing a loud pop sound when his dick left your mouth. he gave himself a few more strokes with his hand as he held you in place, squelching sounds mixed with your heavy breathing echoed all over the room

you sticked your tongue out, and that was all he needed. hot, white spurts of his cum shot out of his tip ending in your tongue, part of it even on your face. jungkook was groaning and moaning like crazy as he furrowed his eyes, when his high ended you swallowed all of his seed without breaking eye contact; feeling the salty aftertaste on your tongue, savoring it with enjoyment, and that was more than enough to get him rock hard over again. this was going to be a long night for you…

without giving you time to process, jungkook lifted you up effortlessly and laid you down on the couch before literally ripping your dress off you. you gasped in surprise when you were only left in your black lingerie set, he looked at you with a dark hungry gaze, one that you’ve never seen before

he followed your figure with his eyes, and now, he could finally touch you. he traced your waist with his fingertips as he cupped one of your boobs with the other hand. you let out a sound between a whimper and a sigh that made him lose his mind. he quickly unclasped your bra to free your aching breasts

your nipples hardened at the sudden feeling of chill air, and jungkook seemed to be hypnotized by them. you grabbed him by his shirt, signaled that you wanted to see his bare torso too. he let out a chuckle because of how needy you were for him, and he didn’t waste any time in slowly unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his naked body as well.

his beefy chest, ripped torso and strong biceps, all decorated with tattoos put you in a trance, you couldn’t get your eyes off him. without warning, jungkook latched one of your perky nipples into his mouth, gently sucking on it as he played with the other one

you let out a loud moan without shame while you grabbed him by the back of his hair, slightly tugging at it. he was on top of you, caging you in his body, making you feel completely helpless and under his control in the best way possible

he let go of one of your nipples to suck on the other one and pinch it too, paying attention to both of your boobs. when he slightly bit one; his teeth grazing against the soft skin of your nipple, your back arched in pleasure, ending up with your clothed pussy pressing against his fully hard cock.

both of you moaned by the friction, the vibrations from jungkook’s groan in your nipple making you shiver. you kept rocking your hips against his dick in desperation for more pleasure, it was as if you couldn’t get enough of each other. the feeling of the cold metal of his lip piercing against your soft skin, made you get even more desperate for him—you couldn’t handle it anymore, you needed him inside of you

“please…” you managed to murmur as you pulled his hair even harder, showing him how desperate you were

“please what?” jungkook asked pulling back from your nipple, even though he knew really well what you needed, he just wanted for those words to come out of your mouth

“j-just” he gently bit your perky nipple again and slightly tugged it to make you moan again, not letting you finish your sentence “just fuck me jungkook, please…” you finally said as you looked at him with pleading eyes

he couldn’t say no to you when you were like this—completely ruined and carried away by the moment, your body full of his marks and humping your pussy against him like a bitch in heat.

jungkook slowly slid your panties down through your legs, leaving your dripping cunt on full display for him. he finally aligned his cock to your entrance, and when you thought he was about to get inside you, he just rubbed his head against your pussy. you were on the verge of losing it, and he was still teasing you

“jungkook, i swear that if-“ he didn’t give you time to finish before pushing his dick all the way in with one deep thrust. you let out a pornographic moan while he groaned at the feeling of your gummy, syrupy walls sucking him in

he gave you some time for you to get used to his size, he was so deep you could feel him in your tummy. you reached for his broad shoulders to hold yourself and let out a sound between a whimper and a moan. when you felt his dick throbbing inside of you, you immediately rocked your hips again, and that was the sign for him that he could start moving.

he started with slow, steady movements, letting you feel all of him in detail. you swore you could see stars every time his tip brushed that special spot in your walls. the room was filled with moans, groans and the sound of skin on skin slapping. but still, none of this was enough for you

you needed jungkook to ruin you, to leave you feeling him for weeks, to make your throat go sore for all the moaning and screaming, you needed him to fuck you so hard the only thing you remember is his name.

“can you go any slower?” you teased him with a challenging look in your eyes. he stopped for a second before locking eyes with you, and something definitely changed in him that moment—his gaze became hungrier, darker and filled with lust

“oh really?” he said trying to catch his breath “i’m going to fuck every bit of that brattiness off you.” when those words came out of his mouth, your pussy clenched with anticipation, causing him to groan

jungkook picked up an animalistic, rough pace, so quick your moans came out uneven and the couch moved with his rhythm. a light sheen of sweat was starting to cover both of your bodies while you became a moaning, messy thing.

he suddenly grabbed one of your legs and hooked it over his tatted shoulder, allowing him to go even deeper, so deep you could feel his thick head kissing your cervix every time he got all the way in. he occasionally pressed some soft kisses to the soft skin of your leg, contrasting with the roughness of his thrusts

he was balls-deep into you, and you could feel his dick all the way in your guts. tiny beads of precum came out of his tip, gushing into your pussy, creating a messy mix of your juices that dripped out of your entrance. your head felt all fuzzy and you were already cockdrunk, not even able to form a sentence and all you could do was moan his name like a prayer

a familiar knot was starting to form deep down in your belly, and jungkook noticed because of the way your stomach visibly tightened; but this only made him go even more feral and pick up his pace impossibly faster, so fast you thought you would break his couch

his eyes were now filled with lust—he suddenly moved his hands from your waist to your clit, pinching and circling it with the perfect amount of pressure. tears began welling up in your eyes while you scratched his shoulder with your nails, leaving marks that encouraged him even more to wreck you

you could feel that knot tightening with every mean thrust of his, and you were now completely lost in the pleasure—not even caring about how loud you were, how flustered you looked, or how tears wouldn’t stop sliding down your cheeks with overstimulation, making your makeup look completely ruined with runny mascara.

but when he suddenly leaned in to lick a long strip to your cleavage to your jaw, tracing your throat with the tip of his tongue, only to press an open mouthed kiss to your cheek and whisper “you’re perfect” in a voice so raspy that it made your walls clench, it was just too much. all your body trembled while you moaned his name to the top of your lungs; as that knot in your stomach came undone, sudden gushes of your juices coming out suddenly and drenching all of his chest and part of his face too

your walls hugged him so tight jungkook’s orgasm busted too, filling your entrance with thick, hot, white loads of his cum, so much part of it dripped off you even when he was still inside of you. he collapsed on top of you, hiding his face in the curve of your neck while both of you desperately tried to catch your breath, without pulling out of you just yet.

after some minutes of peaceful silence you couldn’t help but ask him “so you like me…?”

with a shy look in your eyes even after all of what you’ve just done

jungkook looked up at you, and went silent for a second “i’m obsessed with you” he simply confessed with no shame at all, and you could feel him getting hard again inside your walls. this night wasn’t even close to ending…

[shawtuzi]

SUGA! HONEY! LOVE! ft. min yoongi

a/n: was struggling so hard to think of a title and then this kali uchis song came on

synopsis: after almost a year of dating your super nonchalant bf drops an even more nonchalant L bomb

cw include: black fem!reader in mind when writing this, super fluffy like they love each other sm, pet names used (baby, pretty girl, cutie, babe), fondling, some nasty kissing, crotchless panties are involved somewhere in here, body worship, oral f!receiving, fingering, softdom!yoongi, he gets kinda mean tho, yoongi wears a chain and he has long hair hehe, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, riding, squirting, creampie, some dirty talk, lots of praise, cock warming, aftercare!! wc: 8.1k

“did you enjoy dinner?”

“yes, it was so yummy. thank you for treating me, honey.”

yoongi looked over at you, and gave you a small, barely noticeable smile. he brought your hand that was interlocked with his up his lips, pressing a kiss to the soft, glittery skin.

tonight was your nine month anniversary. not quite one year, but close enough to where he wanted to treat you to something special.

the night started off with him surprising you with a small, bow shaped diamond necklace that hung prettily on a gold chain. he had noticed your slow transition from silver to gold jewelry, and thought the necklace would make a beautiful addition to your growing collection.

you were ecstatic. brown eyes gone completely glossy the second he opened the small box that had pandora printed on the front.

you wore it to the extra fancy restaurant he took you to, of course. the jewelry sat so prettily on your collarbone, it was impossible to not feel like the most special girl in the room, and that was exactly what yoongi wanted.

he wanted you to feel beautiful, expensive, untouchable—because his girl deserved nothing but the absolute best.

“m’so glad you had a nice time. you were definitely the prettiest girl in the room tonight,” he spoke softly, bringing heat to your cheeks. “but honestly, you’re the prettiest girl anywhere we go.”

you squeezed his hand softly, a small whine bubbling in your throat. “yoon, you got me blushing over here. quit itttt,” you giggled, making his grin grow wider.

although he was good at hiding it, your laugh made his heart skip a beat every time he heard it. think of the most melodic sound you’ve ever heard, and then triple it . . . that’s what your laugh sounded like to him.

the rest of the walk to his car was silent, besides the clicking of your heels against the pavement.

you glanced over at yoongi for the umpteenth time that night, your lower belly twisting at the sight of his shoulder length hair blowing gently in the light breeze. you wanted to reach out and touch it, caress it, twirl the soft, black locs around your fingers without a care in the world—but that would have to wait, unfortunately.

yoongi wasn’t the biggest fan of pda, which you totally respected! in fact, it just made you even more excited for when you got to have him all to yourself, in the coziness of your apartment.

“you’re staring very hard,” you heard him say with the slightest bit of humor in his tone. you were quick to stare at anything but him, your lips curling into an embarrassed smile.

“sorry . . . just look so handsome tonight, i can’t help but stare. especially at—”

“my hair?”

you chortled, head tipping down in a bashful nod. “mm, yes. m’so happy you’ve let it grow out. this length suits you very well.”

“i’ve been getting that a lot. you americans and your love for nice hair is funny.” this made you laugh once more, and before you could say anything else, you had finally approached his 2024 hyundai palisade.

a small gasp flew past your plush, glossy lips when he gently pushed you against the passenger door, his hands finding purchase on the thickness of your hips.

“y-yoon—”

he let out a noise between a hum and a purr, button nose brushing against your jawline. “i know, i know. wines gotten a little to my head,” he spoke lowly, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your lips. “m’still good to drive though, of course.”

his lips captured yours in a slow, sweet kiss. he could feel the stickiness of your gloss cling to his lips, but he didn’t mind in the slightest.

when he pulled away you were quick to chase after him with a low whine. “come back,” you pouted, manicured fingers tugging him impossibly close by his leather jacket.

you were pushing your luck, and you knew it, but at the same time it wouldn’t hurt to see how far you could take this.

your hands cupped his warm cheeks, thumbs running over the apples of them. his skin was soft to the touch due to years of the same skin routine, not once missing a day, nor night.

“what are you doing?” he mused, giving you that gummy smile that had you weak in the knees every time you saw it.

your hand moved from his cheeks to his hair, nails massaging his scalp ever so gently. you were messing up the style he spent a good twenty minutes perfecting, but once again, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“i don’t know, i just . . . i don’t know,” you giggled, smushing your forehead against his. a feeling bubbled in your stomach. a feeling of pure adoration for the man before you. a feeling of love.

you two have yet to utter the three words to one another, and that was okay in your book. you didn’t see the rush to say it, and neither did he.

yoongi kissed your lips one, two, three times. each one longer than the last. he could feel the need radiating off of you, and he wanted to help you satiate that need, but not here.

he needed to have you to himself in the privacy of your home. he needed to take his time with you, and be able to touch and kiss every bit of your skin with no need to rush himself.

“i love you so much, (❤︎).”

“w-what?”

he didn’t laugh or crack a smile. his face was deadly serious, and it made you nervous yet so, so excited.

“i said, i love you. so much. more than anything in this world.“

he said it so casually, like saying those three words hadn’t been ripping at him the past three months. he was honestly quite proud of himself for not passing out the second he confessed his love.

your lips parted, then shut. before you knew it, your vision was blurry, and your chin was trembling from the wave of emotions that hit you ever so suddenly. “i don’t . . . i don’t know what to say, yoon.”

yoongis lips lifted into a small smile, “say you love me back, duh.”

you broke into a teary smile, salty droplets slowly making their way down your highlighted cheeks. “o-oh, right. of course. *sniffle* i love you, yoongi. so very much.”

it was silent for a few moments. the two of you completely wrapped up in one another as you nudged noses, and kissed each other followed by small giggles.

you were being so fucking cute right now that if you both could see yourselves, you’d be gagging.

“c’mon. let’s head home, and end this anniversary the right way. gonna touch you until the clock hits midnight, and even then, i won’t stop.”

you surprised yourself by letting out a small moan, multiple shivers running down your back at his sudden foul language. it was definitely a rare occurrence for him to speak to you like this outside of the bedroom, and you were loving every second.

you looked up at him through your freshly done lashes, and batted them, “is that a promise?”

a beat passed, and then another.

yoongi didn’t say a word, and with little to no strength, he maneuvered your body to the side just enough for him to open the passenger door. “get in.”

your cunt pulsed at how low his tone had gotten, and he could also tell it had an effect on you. how cute.

without a word you got in the car, and just when yoongi was about to shut the door, you pulled him in for another bruising kiss. you were feeling a bit bashful before, being so exposed and all, but now that you had something to shield yourself, you had no problem locking lips with your man.

yoongi used his free to cup the back of your neck, deepening the kiss even more. you could taste the wine he had not even twenty minutes ago on his tongue. it was a tart taste, with a hidden sweetness that had you moaning into his mouth.

yoongi could feel his temperature rising, the jeans he was wearing now suddenly feeling too tight. he gripped your jaw with a heavy hand, earning a low whimper from you.

“behave.”

he loosened his grip, and with a final kiss to your slightly swollen lips, he shut the door. your heart pounded against your ribcage, and for a second it felt like you could feel that same beat in your pussy.

your thighs clenched together as yoongi silently got in the car. his expression was calm and composed, like you weren’t just sucking his tongue into your mouth a few minutes prior.

when his scorching hot hand made contact with the cool skin of your thigh, you were quick to grab it with both hands, fiddling with his fingers and rings to calm the pounding in your chest.

he noticed this, and it had him raising a thick brow.

“what are you so nervous about, hm?” he asked, glancing over at you as he put the car in drive.

mine by beyoncé began to play, resuming from when you were previously in the car. your heart clenched, the song not helping the yearning you held for him in your heart . . . or your lower half.

“i just can’t wait to get home,” you said so quietly, he almost didn’t hear you.

“and why is that?”

you were quiet once again, a small pout forming on your lips. “ . . . you know why, yoon.”

yoongi chuckled, giving the inside of your thigh a tender squeeze. “i know, pretty girl. just teasing.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” you mumbled, eyes flicking to the diamond, cuban link chain that sat prettily on his neck. you couldn’t wait to have it dangle over your face as he fucked you.

the remainder of the ride was silent, and yoongis hand stayed glued to your thigh the entire time.

“home sweet home,” he muttered running a veiny hand through his slightly tousled hair. by the time he looked over at you, you were already halfway out of the car. “aish, someone’s in a hurry,” he chuckled, giving you a playful stare as you opened his door for him.

“yes, yes, i am! move your ass before i start stripping right here!” your fingers teasingly pulled at the straps of your dress, and this had yoongi swallowing hard, his hands nearly shaking as he pulled the keys out of the ignition.

the second, and i mean the second you entered your apartment, you were dragging yoongi to your plush, pink couch. he didn’t even get to protest as you pushed him down on the soft cushions, your lips immediately capturing his in a heated kiss. you sloppily found your way in his lap, your dress riding up to the tops of your thighs.

“baby—”

“hush. wanna do it right here, right now,” you panted against his lips, lower half shallowly grinding into his.

yoongi didn’t protest, thankfully. his soft hands grabbed two handfuls of your ass, kneading the flesh gently before swatting it.

“you always like me on top anyway, right?”

this made yoongi smile because yes, he did enjoy having you on top more than anything. but just because he was below you didn’t mean he didn’t hold all the power. the pace of your bounces were controlled by him, along with how hard you went, and if you were allowed to touch at your neglected clit or not.

he liked to make you work for your nut.

“mm, i do . . . but you need to have a little patience, pretty girl,” he purred, hands finding purchase on the curves of your hips.

“b-but—”

“but nothing,” he pressed a kiss to your jaw, and then your neck. “i haven’t gotten to appreciate your body, or taste you yet. how could we ever skip over such a crucial part of love making?”

and just like that, the raging fire in your stomach was tamed to a small blaze.

“ah, m’sorry. don’t know what came over me,” you whispered, wiping the remnants from the kiss off your lips with the back of your hand.

yoongi shook his head, and kissed your pout away. “no need to be sorry, baby. tonight is a special night in more ways than one, i can understand why you’re so eager.”

you honestly could’ve cried with how sweetly he was speaking to you. so gentle. so understanding.

“what are you thinking about? talk to me.”

your eyes that were previously staring at your bare thighs flicked up to his, and you were immediately put to ease.

“i . . . i love you, yoongi. thank you for loving me just as much.”

a hand cradled your cheek, and you nuzzled into the warm touch, lashes fluttering shut. you reminded him so much of a kitten, which was funny because you always commented on how much he reminded you of a stand-offish black cat.

“i love you more, (❤︎). never wanna love anyone else, but you, ever.” his thumb ran over the apple of your cheek, and then the curves of your cupids bow. you were absolutely mesmerizing.

“mm, really?”

“yes, really.”

“even if i was . . . like—a worm? even if an evil witch turnt me into a worm, you’d still love me?”

there he went again giving you that gummy smile that had your heart thumping. “yes, baby. even if an evil witch turned you into a worm. i’d carry you around with me all day, and build you a terrarium filled with the prettiest flowers. you’d be the most spoiled worm ever.”

you kissed him once, twice, thrice, and then he was patting your thigh—a silent signal for you to get up. you stood up on wobbly legs, mentally cursing at yourself for not even bothering to take your heels off before trying to jump yoongis bones.

“here, let me,” he mumbled, long fingers already beginning to undo the straps of your heels. being the gentleman he was, he held your hand as you stepped out of them, and snatched them up in one hand before you could even think to bend down.

he stood up, lips curling into a small smirk at the way you were quick to wrap your arms around his slim waist. “go to the room, and strip. i’ll be in there soon.”

this had you pouting, head tilting back so dramatically it had yoongi chuckling. “pleaseee don’t be long,” you sighed, tightening your hold around him. “seriously, hurry.”

and with that, you tipsily walked to your room, the scent of cinnamon apples from a candle you had lit earlier wafting into your nose.

your room was nice and toasty, making you not even hesitate to slip the straps of your dress off your shoulders. it fell to the floor with a small, barely audible thump, and your panties usually would be next to go, but tonight was different.

for the sake of your anniversary, you decided to try out a new kind of garment; crotchless panties.

it was a cute little lacy, lilac number—something yoongi would definitely love to see you in. it cupped your pussy perfectly, leaving nothing to the imagination.

you glanced at the door, ears perking up to hear what yoongi was doing. you heard bustling in the kitchen, and hummed quietly before tiptoeing over to the the mirror hung on your wall.

your head cocked to the side, eyes trailing down your almost naked body. your skin still slightly glistened from layers, upon layers of raw shea butter you applied before the date, and your pussy looked soaked with need.

with a shallow breath, you ran your hands over your breasts, and then your tummy, and finally over where you needed to be touched most.

yoongi needed to hurry his ass up.

just as you finished your thought, you heard footsteps approaching.

“sorry for takin’ so long pretty, i wanted to warm up . . . this . . . this, um—this towel, because you know things might, um, er—”

“babe, are you okay? you strokin’ out on me?” you giggled, hands covering your mouth to conceal your laughter.

yoongi was completely stuck. yes, he’s seen you naked countless of times, and it never gets old, but these panties? these crotchless panties??

they just changed everything.

“come . . come here. now, please.”

you took slow steps towards him, feeling incredibly small under his intense stare. when you stopped in front of him, he suddenly dropped to his knees making you gasp.

“y-yoon! what’re you doing, honey?” you tried to hide the nervousness in your laugh, but it was no use with the way he was nosing at your pussy.

the sound of a sniffle pierced your ear, and you felt as if your entire body had been set ablaze. your cheeks were so hot it made you feel lightheaded!

“don’t be a perv.”

“i’m not, i’m just smelling you. no harm in that.”

his warm hands massaged the backs of your silky thighs, careful to make sure you didn’t fall. “why are you acting so embarrassed, hm? nothin’ i haven’t seen before.”

your lips parted in a tiny scoff, “i . . i know that.”

“good. now go lay down on this, please. i’m feeling rather impatient now that i’ve seen . . . these,” his finger tugged on the waistband of your panties, “i need to have you now.” he released the fabric, letting it snap back against your heated skin.

you let out a small ‘mhm’, and with a soft pat to your ass, yoongi sent you on your way.

one thing about your sweet boyfriend? he didn’t like mess. now this kinda mess he didn’t mind too much, but still, a towel was definitely needed.

the reason he was taking so long before was because he was warming it up for you. he’d done that one time, and ever since then, you just had to have your towel warmed if you guys were using one. he had you spoiled completely rotten.

you let out a small sigh as you laid on your bed, the warmth from the fluffy towel sending goosebumps all across your lower half. a small my melody plushie was used to keep your head propped, giving you a nice view of the space between your thighs.

“you okay? not uncomfortable or anything?” he spoke softly, kneeling once more at the edge of your bed. as he slung your thighs over his shoulders, you replied with a soft ‘yes’.

yoongi started off by pressing petal soft kisses to the insides of your thighs, making sure not an inch of your vanilla scented skin went untouched. his eyes were on yours the entire time, not once breaking contact.

“these are really pretty. this color . . it’s beautiful.”

“t-thank you,” your thigh twitched when he nosed at your slicked clit, “they—mm, they show more skin t-than i thought.”

his tongue poked out, giving your slit an experimental lick. you gasped, hips jerking when he dragged the fat of his tongue over your pussy. it was soft, hot, everything that you had been looking forward to.

“you like that?” he hummed, circling the tip of his tongue over your clit. you shuddered, and brought a hand down to latch onto his hair. it felt like silk between your fingers. you wanted to tug and yank on it until he was moaning into your pussy out of pleasure.

you scratched lightly at his scalp, “yeah, i-i like it.”

his tongue circled your entrance, and you twitched. “so sweet, baby,” you heard him say from below. you internally melted at the pet name, a whimper bubbling in your throat.

he kitten licked at your clit, careful not to go to slow or too fast, and fuck up your nearing orgasm. he had your entire body mapped, every like and dislike engraved permanently into his mind.

“can you put a finger in? p-please?” you weren’t necessarily looking at yoongi as you requested more from him, something he taught you to do when you first became sexually active, but since it was your anniversary, he’d let it slide.

yoongi pulled away only an inch, earning a high pitched mewl from you. his lips parted, and a second later, a warm glob of spit fell onto your clit.

“think you can take two?”

he held two fingers up, and used those same fingers to tap at your glistening folds.

“o-ohh,” your brows scrunched together in a pout, “yes, i think so.”

he sucked the two digits between his lips, coating them in spit before prodding them at your tight entrance. you felt his free hand lace its fingers with yours, and that calmed you immensely, allowing yoongi to push his fingers in a little further.

his fingers curled up, and you moaned, your hips bucking up only slightly.

yoongi groaned seeing the way your pussy sucked his fingers in, gripping them so tightly as if he’d ever leaving you hanging.

orgasm denial was an interesting kink to try, yes, but yoongi didn’t find very much pleasure in denying you of your own. he’s determined always and forever to make you cum as many times as your body will let you.

“greedy girl,” you heard him chuckle before he was pushing his fingers in allll the way to the knuckle.

his fingers brushed against that sensitive spot deep inside you that had you whining, and that had you crying out, your back arching into nothing. it was always so easy for him to find your g-spot, especially with those long fingers of his.

“mm, fuck, yoon.” your voice was breathy and whiny, already on the verge of sounding fucked out.

you squeezed his hand roughly when he sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue caressing the swollen button softly, but quickly.

he could suddenly feel the smoothness of your thighs against his cheeks, the action smushing his face further into your cunt.

“spread your—mmph, spread your legs,” you heard him utter into your pussy, and without a second thought, your hands were hooking into the backs of your knees, and spreading your thighs as wide as they would go.

the rhythm of his tongue and fingers had your head ringing, an endless stream of essence dripping from your drooling pussy.

“yoongi, i’m—!”

“i know, baby, i feel it. cum f’me.”

one last suckle to your clit had you cumming all over yoongis tongue with a loud cry. your walls pulsed around his fingers as they fucked into you, milking your orgasm for all it was worth. his fingers rubbed against your g-spot, and that’s when tears began to prick at your lash line.

those skilled fingers of his that played guitar for hours on end always left you a shaky, teary mess.

“i can’t, i can’tttt,” you squealed out, wrapping a hand around his wrist. yoongi slurped at your pussy so loud it had you pouting in embarrassment, but at least his fingers had stopped their brutal pace.

“that was good,” he pressed a kiss to your trembling thigh, “amazing as always, baby.”

your eyes fluttered shut, the pout on your lips not budging. “thank you, yoon . .”

“you’re welcome, cutie.”

you heard some shuffling, and suddenly felt something cold brush against your collarbone. your chest puffed up in a deep inhale, the familiar spicy, woodsy scent of yoongis cologne hitting your nose.

you slowly peeked one eye open, and then the other. yoongi was hovering over you with an amused look. he looked as if he wanted to say something, but was holding himself back.

his eyes flicked over to your hand that tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, careful and gentle as ever.

“watcha doin’?”

“i’m just . . looking,” he adjusted himself, slotting his lower half perfectly against yours. you could feel the print in his pants against your thigh, and this only had you feeling more impatient.

you grinned, head cocking slightly to the side, “and do you like what you see?”

his laugh vibrated against your skin as he pressed kisses all along your shoulder and neck. “you already know i do.”

after some long, slow kisses and cute banter, you were finally able to get yoongi to shed a few layers of clothes. you sat on the edge of your bed, legs swinging back and forth without a care in world while yoongi rid himself of his jacket and button up.

your pupils were almost completely blown out, a dopey smile creeping onto your lips.

“do you like what you see?” you heard him chuckle, parroting your words right back at you. you let out a small laugh, and you were about to reply, but then the clink of his belt caught your attention. you watched intently as his veiny hands pulled the belt from the loops of his jeans.

“yes . . . i do,” you looked up, already to find his feline-like eyes staring right back down at you. you remained having eye contact while yoongi undid the button and zipper; which was quite a while since yoongi did it agonizingly slow.

his jeans sat low on his hips, giving you a nice view of his briefs. “you want it?” he asked lowly, giving the print in his jeans a not so subtle palm. he used that same hand to cup your jaw, his thumb resting gently on your bottom lip.

“mhm.”

“hah—my fuckin’ god.”

yoongis head fell back against the mountain of pillows stacked against your headboard, his mouth dropping in a particularly loud moan.

he was completely at your mercy, limbs turnt to nothing but jello due to you riding him like a fucking bunny. your ass clapped against his thighs in quick, sloppy bounces. the idea of going slow never even crossed your mind! once you were on top of him, he was yours for the taking.

you’ve already came two times just from riding him, and you were showing zero signs in stopping. this was bad for yoongi. he was entirely too close to cumming—which was not apart of his plan for how this was supposed to go down.

“f-fucking slow down, (❤︎),” he growled out, slamming his hands against your ass. he grabbed two handfuls of the plush skin, and pulled you close, slowing your movements as much as possible.

he felt a puff of hot air against his neck, followed by a whine, “but why?”

he met you halfway with a thrust, a loud squelching noise echoing throughout the room. he shuddered, nostrils flaring as he tried to piece together a sentence.

“why not? hm, baby? what’s. the. rush.” the last three words of his sentence were punctuated by three thrusts, each one knocking the wind out of you.

“because i wanna *hiccup* w-wanna cum againnn,” you sniffled, head drooping onto his shoulder.

yoongi tsked, veiny hands wrapping around both your wrists. he had them pinned behind your back in an iron grip, and lucky for him, you didn’t protest or struggle against his hold.

“now go slow before i cuff you.”

your whines and sniffles came to a halt at the mention of being cuffed. now that would be no good.

yoongi was gentle with you. always has been, and always will be, but when you disobeyed him and acted like a spoiled brat? best believe you were punished accordingly.

“i’ll go slow for you, yoon,” you said to him, voice barely above a whisper.

your hips lifted, leaving about half of his dick inside you before you slowly slid back down. the thick veins that ran along the side of his base rubbed so deliciously against the walls of your cunt, but it just wasn’t enough :(

“keep your hands here,” you heard yoongi mutter into your hair, releasing his tight hold on your wrists. you obeyed keeping your hands snug against the small of your back while yoongis hands found purchase on your hips. he guided your movements, careful not to go too fast and give you the wrong the idea.

he pulled you even closer, the new position allowing your clit to rub against his abdomen.

your head tilted back when you felt his hot mouth clamp around your nipple, soft tongue gliding over the bud in sloppy circles. after a few moments, he kissed his way over to the opposite breast giving it the same treatment.

your hand twitched, nearly dragging itself into yoongis hair, but you fought the urge. “don’t—mm, don’t stop, please.”

“i won’t, i promise,” he spoke into your skin, using one of his hands to tweak at your abandoned nipple. “fuck yourself on me. slow.”

you let out a small moan and nodded, your feet planting into the bed to resume the slow, steady pace he set for you. “can i move my hands? please? m’not very stable like this.”

yoongi let out a low hum, and you moaned in relief, your hands grasping onto his shoulders so tightly it had him wincing. the pain was soon subsided by the feeling of your warmth enveloping him over, and over, and over again.

your pussy was creaming his dick sooo much that there was surely a mess to be cleaned afterwards, but for once, yoongi didn’t care—in fact he wanted you to get even messier.

“ah, yoongi.”

“hm?”

“feels like m’gonna cum again.”

he released your nipple with a lewd pop, and fell back into the pillows. his hand reached between your bodies, and rubbed sloppily at your clit. you stuttered between bounces, your cunt clenching around his cock tighter and tighter as your orgasm neared.

yoongis feet planted into the bed, and with shallow thrusts, he met your slow, uncoordinated bounces. “o-oh fuck—”

you were cut off by his hand wrapping around your throat, ring clad fingers squeezing softly. “yoongi,” you all but sobbed, tummy clenching when you felt that coil in your lower belly begin to unravel.

“fuck, honey. you’re getting my dick so wet—you cumming?” he groaned out, earning a high pitched moan from you.

suddenly, your bounces came to a complete halt, and your thighs were pressing together, your orgasm hitting you like a semi. “d-don’t stop, yoon!” you pleaded, wrapping your hand around the wrist that was toying with your clit.

yoongi was working his ass off. one hand rubbed at your swollen button while the other continuously squeezed at your neck, all while he proceeded to fuck into you like his life depended on it. his feline-like eyes flicked to where you both met, and fuck.

his cock was completely coated in your essence, gleaming underneath the orange hue from the light in the corner of the room. his pelvis was smeared with your slick, and he could only assume his balls looked the exact same way.

after milking your orgasm for an extra minute or two, you fell into yoongis chest with a soft thud. his arms were quick to wrap around your trembling form, nimble fingers tracing random shapes and lines into the small of your back.

“think you can handle some more? m’not quite done with you yet,” you heard your boyfriend chuckle, his hand tenderly squeezing your side.

you lifted your head, tired eyes locking with yoongis. his cheeks were completely flushed, and his hair was a mess, strands sticking in all different directions. your eyes trailed to the diamond chain sitting prettily on his collarbone, and that was when you remembered you wanted to see that same chain dangling over your face while he plowed into you.

you were as sensitive as can be, and maybe on the verge of passing out, but this was your anniversary! you had to go all out.

“y-yeah, let’s go again,” you whispered, kiss bitten lips pressing gently against his chest. you felt his cock stir inside you, the thick muscle twitching against your sensitive walls.

yoongi managed to flip you both over, a small smirk creeping onto his lips when you squealed.

“ugh, you’re such an ass. you could’ve given me a warning,” you giggled, wrapping your legs around his slim waist. yoongis hand trailed up the silkiness of your thigh, tickling it ever so softly just so he could hear you laugh again.

“where’s the fun in warning you?” he smirked, pressing a kiss to your pouty lips.

“shut up . . ” you murmured, tangling your fingers in his soft locs. your lips slotted against his perfectly in another kiss. yoongi took this opportunity to sheath himself inside you once again, earning a whimper from you against his lips.

his balls felt so heavy, begging for release, but yoongi wanted to drag this out for as long as possible. as far as he was concerned, you two were the only people on earth right now.

“good fuckin’ pussy,” you him slur into your ear, followed by a sloppy kiss to the side of your head. all you could do was moan in response, and pull him closer.

yoongi settled for shallow, deep thrusts—just barely pulling out before slamming back inside you with a grunt each time. “fuck, baby, you’re gripping my dick so good,” he moaned out, using one hand to push your left knee forward. this angle gave him a clear view of his cock bullying into your creamy pussy, and it took every ounce of self restraint he had not to cum inside you right then and there.

his back tensed when your nails ran over the soft ridges of his abs—one of, if not, his most sensitive spot. his nose nudged yours, “mm, baby—”

he felt a jolt at his neck, and suddenly his lips were on yours again. you had his chain clutched in your hand while the other cradled his face, like he was the most precious thing you’ve ever had in your grasp.

“you feel—hah, you f-feel so nice. love when you fuck me like this.” your whines and moans went straight into his ear and down to his dick, not a beat missed as you both talked each other through it.

“love you s’much—you and this pussy. always treating me so good—shitttt, i’m close.”

yoongi pushed your other leg back, driving his dick even deeper into your drooling entrance. “ho—fuck!” you squealed, shaky hands wrapping around your ankles to keep your legs in place. “p-please touch me, yoon.”

yoongi ran his tongue over his lips, the faint taste of sweat coating his tongue. his hands ran over the backs of your thighs, and then cupped your breasts, thumbs swiping over your stiff nipples. his hips never stopped moving, your headboard banging against the wall with every thrust.

“such a pretty girl. m’the luckiest man alive, aren’t i?”

and he was.

in all of yoongis twenty-seven years on this earth, you were by far one of the best things that has ever happened to him. your smile, your gentle nature, your cooking, the way you both shared a passion for music—your cooking.

with all these things and more, he was shocked he didn’t say those three words sooner.

“shit, yoongi, i’m gonna cum—i’m gonna—mmph!”

yoongi smushed his lips into yours in an open mouth kiss, swallowing up every moan and cry you had to offer. two of his fingers reached between your bodies, and rubbed at your clit.

at this point you were too fucked out to even kiss him back! while your lips stayed stretched open in a drawn out moan, yoongi continued to lick into your mouth. you were partially brought back to reality when he sucked your tongue into his mouth.

a searing pleasure began to spread all across your lower half, and with a choked sob, your essence was hitting yoongis abdomen in short, messy spurts. yoongi let out a grunt and pulled out, three of his fingers now messily rubbing against your pussy.

he didn’t quite know what he was doing, granted you’ve never cum this hard before, but rubbing your clit into nothingness seemed like the best choice.

your entire body tensed, back arching into yoongis warm chest. your orgasm seemed to be never ending, and even when it did, your thighs continued to tremble from the aftershocks.

yoongi sat back on his knees, chest heaving with a crazed look in his usually grounded eyes. his cock leaked pathetically against his tummy, pre smearing all along the pale skin.

“fuck . . ” he murmured, giving his dick a few pumps with the same hand that was covered in your cum. your thigh twitched when he squeezed the sensitive flesh, “you’ve never done that before.”

all you could do was whine in response. there was a pressure on your tummy that didn’t subside after you came, almost as if you still had more to give!

a finger tapped at your cheek, and then your lips. “hey, you still with me? do we need to stop?”

suddenly yoongis forehead was nearly touching yours, his hair forming a curtain over your faces. he smelt of his cologne, but now the smell of sex and sweat had intertwined with it. it was an enticing scent, and it had you wanting him more than ever.

your body was completely spent, and you were sure if you came again you’d pass out, but yoongi still needed to finish—and tonight you wanted him to finish inside you more than anything. you wanted to feel his warm cum flood your tummy, and then keep it there with his cock while he held you and kissed you to sleep.

“lets keep going,” you spoke softly, voice now gone raspy from all your screaming, “want you to finish inside me really bad. been thinking about it all night.”

he hissed when your hand wrapped around the throbbing base of his cock, giving it an experimental squeeze before slowly running your palm over the tip.

yoongi let out a dreamy sigh, pink lips brushing against yours. “that sounds nice.”

your lips captured his in a kiss, the action keeping him occupied as you slowly eased his cock into your slicked cunt. he slid in with ease, stopping only till he physically couldn’t go any further.

your eyes squeezed shut, legs lazily wrapping around his waist once more. “you’re so deep, honey,” you sighed, drool covered lips pressing against the spot between his neck and collarbone.

yoongi whined, yes whined, and slammed one of his hands against the bed while the other hiked your leg further up his back. he wanted to be as close as possible.

“f-fuck, i love you so much.”

you gasped when his cock hit a particularly deep spot, that pressure in your tummy growing more and more by the minute. “i love you—ngh, l-love you more, yoongi. s’much!”

yoongi shuddered, stomach clenching and unclenching. he was close, extremely close. he just needed a little—

“hah, can’t wait to be your wife, and have you fuck me like this every night.”

marriage was something that was discussed only a handful of times since you got together with yoongi. not because he didn’t want to or wasn’t ready—it was the exact opposite. you on the other hand had your worries, but that was okay with yoongi. he wasn’t in a rush, and neither were you.

but right now? the idea of becoming mrs. min and giving him little brats to chase after sounded like heaven on earth.

and apparently it did to yoongi too, because suddenly his entire body went slack, and he was moaning right into your shoulder. he humped into you with need, hands running over every inch of your body that he could touch.

the warmth that flooded your tummy triggered your own orgasm, and with a bite to yoongis shoulder, you were creaming his cock for the sixth? seventh time that night? who was even counting anymore.

each time you made a sound, yoongi would match it in a slightly whiner tone. he had read somewhere that after a woman orgasms, her pussy clings to you in ways unimaginable, but he didn’t expect it to feel this fucking good.

your walls felt like velvet around him, clinging to him and milking his orgasm for all it was worth—which was quite a bit.

your orgasm was less messy this time around, but it was still all the more powerful than the ones before. all you could remember was a ringing in your ears before everything went black.

“ . . come on. come back to me, baby.”

yoongi could feel you stir in his arms, small whines getting caught in your throat from having your slumber disturbed.

you regained your senses one by one, until you finally pieced together that you were laying on yoongis warm chest with a white, fluffy blanket covering you both.

“mm,” your head nuzzled into his chest, and then lifted up, “how long have i been asleep?”

yoongi cupped your jaw, internally cooing when you rested your weight on it. your eyes were practically formed into hearts as he stroked your heated skin. “not long—maybe a half hour? you kinda passed out mid orgasm, so i bundled us up to make you more comfortable. m’glad you woke up though, i don’t want us to stay like this for too long, and you get a uti, or something.”

you made a confused noise, eyebrows pulling together, “stay like wha—?”

after moving your hips not even an inch, you felt it.

yoongis cock was still snugly nestled inside you, and you could only assume he kept his cum plugged up inside of you.

“ngh, d-don’t move around too much, yeah?” he sighed, smile faltering only slightly. your body was totally spent, and the last thing yoongi wanted to do was fuck up your zen by getting hard.

your head tilted in a curt nod, lips pressing against the smooth skin of his palm. “i hope me passing out didn’t freak you out too much. i’ve never, um, came that hard before if you couldn’t tell,” you grinned, cheeks heating up.

“ooo, don’t say stuff like that, cutie. you’re gonna ruin my ego,” yoongi smirked, titling your chin up to give you a slow, deep kiss. he pulled away, but just barely, your lips still brushing together.

drowsiness was slowly starting to take over your exhausted form, when suddenly you remembered—you still didn’t give yoongi his anniversary gift!

“oh my goodness—i almost forgot,” you grunted, pulling open your beside drawer to retrieve his gift.

yoongis eyebrows lifted in amusement when you pulled out a stack of envelopes, all held together by baby pink, polka dotted ribbon. the envelope at the top of the stack read ‘number one ❤︎’ which was written in, of course, pink pen.

yoongi carefully took them from you, “and what might these be?”

your arms folded on top of his chest, chin now resting on your hands. you batted your pretty lashes up at him, eyes damn near sparkling, “your gift, duh.”

his fingers skimmed along the sides, and with gentle fingers he undid the ribbon. as he examined them he noticed each envelope looked like the first, and they, coincidentally, ended at twenty seven.

“letters?”

you smiled, hard. the hardest he’s seen you smile all night. “maybeeee . . . guess you’re gonna have to open them one day at a time, and see.”

“aish, baby. this is so fucking cute,” he chuckled, index finger already swiping against the fold on the envelope. just as he was about to pull the letter out, you made a noise between a squeak and a choke. “what the—”

“don’t read it now! it’s embarrassing! i wrote some reallyyyy cheesy stuff in the first one . . . and the second one . . and, um, the third one. basically all twenty seven, so you cannot read any of them in front of me, or i’m gonna die m’kay?”

“okie, cutie.”

he was totally gonna read the first one the second you fell asleep.

his nose nudged against yours softly, “let’s get you cleaned up, and ready for bed, yeah?”

you smiled, letting out a small hum. “yes, please.”

it took some time, and a lot of praise, but yoongi was eventually able to slide himself out of the warmth of your pussy, leaving you stretched and whiny. your nose scrunched up at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you in small globs.

“i’m gonna clean up real quick, and then i’ll come back for you okay? don’t fall asleep on me,” he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

as yoongi exited your room, he couldn’t help but stop and admire himself in your mirror. he looked like the definition of sex.

his hair was tousled beyond belief, and his chest was littered with hickeys and scratches, but the eye catcher out of everything was his glistening cock. he was completely covered in your essence, and as he cleaned himself up in the bathroom he almost hated to see it go.

you were halfway between being awake and losing consciousness when yoongi returned back to your room, washcloth and water in hand.

“hey, you still with me? m’gonna wipe you off now, don’t squirm too much,” he spoke lowly, pressing the warm washcloth against your thigh. he slowly ran it over the insides of your thighs, your lower tummy, and finally your cunt, going extra slow over your swollen folds.

“she always looks so pretty after we’re done,” he muttered, teeth catching onto his bottom lip. you let out a low whine, and smiled bashfully, your thighs closing out of instinct. “don’t be a perv.”

“you sure do love calling me that,” you heard him chuckle, his body now hovering over yours, naked chest to naked chest. “now what will your pre bedtime sweet treat be tonight, hm?”

ah, he knew you all too well. it was amazing.

“i have some chocolate covered strawberries in the pink tupperware next to the bag of lemons . . grab those, and hand me a big shirt before you go. you know where they are,” you grinned, fingers running along his soft jawline.

“i’ll take these while i’m at it.” and suddenly, you felt a tug at the crotchless panties you had yet to take off. yoongi slowly slid the garment down your thighs, and tossed them aside, leaving you in all your bare glory. “you want panties?”

“mm, no thank you. i wanna go bare tonight in case i might need you again,” you smirked, resting your pretty, white painted toes on his chest.

yoongi let out a long sigh, and pressed a sweet kiss to your ankle. “considering you quite literally passed out not too long ago, i would be careful with my words. i could definitely go another round again.” his eyes bore into yours, like he was silently challenging you.

you felt very small under his stare, and instead of teasing him further, you surrendered. “yeah, yeah, whatever. shirt, pleaseeee. i’m getting cold, see?” your hands cupped your breasts, showing off your pebbled nipples.

you were truly going to be the death of this man, and you didn’t even know it.

silently, yoongi retrieved a shirt from your closet and tossed it to you. “i’m gonna grab your strawberries. be right back, princess.”

while yoongi grabbed you your sweet treat, you got comfy in bed, a black satin scarf now secured around your hair. you snuggled into the oversized hello kitty plushie yoongi had bought you not too long ago, and turned on your latest movie fixation: gone girl.

it wasn’t long before yoongi was joining you in bed, and helping you indulge in the strawberries. you made small talk, but eventually you got tired, and before you knew it, you were falling asleep on yoongis chest, small snores escaping past your parted lips.

“cute . . ” he mumbled, setting the empty container on the bedside table. his eyes flickered to the stack of letters he had yet to get into, his lips creeping into a small grin.

the first letter was, thankfully, already opened from earlier, so he wouldn’t have to worry about waking you up with any noise. he slowly pulled the letter from the envelope, eyes skimming over the pink printed paper.

dear, yoongi (my sweet honeybun)

after a lot of thought about what to get you, i figured what better gift than twenty seven letters of reasons why i love you! oh yeah, i guess i should also confess that i’m madly in love with you . . . like sooo in love, i can’t even think straight. i know we’ve only been together nine months, but i don’t know, i feel like this is it! you’re what i’ve been waiting all these years for, and i can’t imagine myself making memories with anyone else. you’ve loved and cared for me in ways i didn’t even know were possible, and for that i will forever be eternally grateful to you. you are the black cat to my doe, so different but kinda similar in some ways. i love you so much, and i hope you enjoy your gift, my sweet kitty.

love, (❤︎)

a droplet of water hit the paper, and then another. “mm?” yoongi swiped a finger under his eye, and sure enough, he was shedding tears! and to think there was still twenty six more to be read.

he looked down at your sleeping form, peaceful as ever as your chest slowly rose and fell. he lips connected with your forehead, staying there until his neck was beginning to cramp up.

“i love you so much, my sweet girl.”

[gimmethatagustd]

i wanna see some ass | myg

When the other girls stripped their tops off, you’d done it, too. You weren’t sure why. Maybe because your stomach twisted in on itself while you watched Yoongi sit on the edge of the bed with his legs spread wide. His sharp eyes gazed at the other girls with a predatory look that made you shiver harder than the vodka in your collarbones. Maybe you’d wanted him to look at you like that.

Relationship: Yoongi x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Concerts, Groupies, Rapper Yoongi, groupie with benefits, Alcohol, Marijuana, Vaginal Fingering

Word Count: 1,028

A/N: Spotify drabble~

Soundtrack: Jack Harlow - I WANNA SEE SOME ASS

“C’mere, hold still.” 

You held your breath as Seokjin poured vodka into the dip of your clavicle, the cool liquid making goosebumps spread down your arms. 

When the other girls stripped their tops off, you’d done it, too. You weren’t sure why. Maybe because your stomach twisted in on itself while you watched Yoongi sit on the edge of the bed with his legs spread wide. His sharp eyes gazed at the other girls with a predatory look that made you shiver harder than the vodka in your collarbones. Maybe you’d wanted him to look at you like that. 

Yoongi’s tongue licked across the seam of the blunt he’d just rolled at the same time you felt Seokjin’s tongue run along your neck. When he reached the base, his plush lips covered your shoulder. It was an odd sensation, Seokjin sucking the vodka from your clavicle. He swirled his tongue around your wet skin and you knew it would still be sticky later. 

“Hyung,” Yoongi grunted, smoke unfurling from his nostrils. One of the girls held her mouth open, chin tilted toward Yoongi. He grabbed the back of her head to pull her closer and blew the remaining smoke from his mouth into hers. It was careless and wasteful; he hardly let her lips touch his before he was turning back to Seokjin. 

“Hyung.” 

Seokjin detached his mouth from your neck. “What?” 

“Share.” 

The older man snorted and gave you a little push that had you stumbling forward on shaky legs. You shouldn’t have had so many shots, but you wanted to keep up and everyone else here seemed to have a higher tolerance than you. The hotel room was big; you’d never been in a suite like it before. Even though you shouldn’t have been surprised you were. You’d followed the other girls when they left the afterparty, ushered by Yoongi and his entourage into discrete black cars that took you to their hotel. There was his manager, Seokjin, now sucking on a new girl’s neck. Jungkook was another rapper who opened for Yoongi. He had two girls flanking him, the three of them lounging on one of the couches. They took turns kissing; it was so wet and sloppy you could see tongue and practically hear the smacking sounds their lips made over the music playing from the Bluetooth speakers. Jungkook’s performance had been cool, but you’d really only come for Yoongi. 

“Princess,” Yoongi murmured with a sleepy drawl in between hits. He reached for your hand, exchanging with Seokjin his blunt for you. “You like the show?” 

“Of course,” you insisted, letting him pull you into his lap on the bed. His large hands immediately ran up the back of your thighs to push up your skirt until he could palm the bare skin of your ass. You found yourself pushing against his grip and shivering when you felt his fingers tease at the waistband of your thong. 

“I’m glad we ran into you. After all your DMs, I was hoping we would.” He leaned forward to kiss your chest, trailing kisses down until he was sucking a mark into the tops of your tits. 

Your hands flew up to tangle in his platinum-blonde hair, but the mention of the messages you’d sent Yoongi on Instagram made you immediately shift to hide your face in your hands. 

“Oh god, I’m sorry. It’s so embarrassing.” You were drunk when you tried to sext the rapper the night before his concert. 

“It was fucking hot.” One of his hands slid around to rest on the inside of your thigh. 

“I’m sure you get that a lot.” Your breathing came out shaky as one of Yoongi’s hands slipped between your thighs, the other still palming your ass. 

“I do, but never from girls with an ass as great as yours.” 

You squeezed his shoulders when he pulled your thong to the side to lightly trail his finger along your clit. His bloodshot eyes flicked up to look into yours as he slid his finger inside of you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away, even after he began pumping in and out of you. It was embarrassing how wet you were getting from such a simple action, enough that Yoongi was soon easily slipping another finger inside you. The hand on your ass pulled you forward and back, forcing you to grind into him as he fucked you with his fingers. 

“Y-Yoongi.” 

“Yeah?” His response was breathy and his lips fell open with the utterance. When he noticed you were looking at his lips, he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, shooting you the gummy smile you’d always wanted to see in real life. 

A high-pitch squeal and Seokjin’s laughter snapped you out of your daze. You scooted closer to Yoongi’s waist and sat further down on his lap, pushing his fingers deeper inside you. 

“They can see,” you whispered in a small panic that made your heart thud in your throat. 

“They’ve seen worse.” 

Yoongi slipped a third finger inside you. He pressed hard against your front wall and began pumping against it hard enough to make your thighs jiggle. You pressed your face into the top of his head, hoping to use his hair to muffle your moans. 

“This isn’t my room.” You could feel him grin against your throat. “Wanna take you to mine. Fuck you real good, that cool with you, princess?” 

The cocky raspiness of his voice, paired with the feeling of his teeth grazing against your collarbone where Seokjin had sucked vodka from you, made you cum so abruptly you gasped in shock. 

“Gah, Yoongi-yah! What did I tell you about-” 

Yoongi glared at his manager from around your body. You couldn’t tell, but you were sure he was giving him a dirty look. 

“We’re leaving.”

Yoongi wrapped his arms beneath your thighs and stood up, keeping you held against his chest. You were thankful; you probably wouldn’t be able to walk anyway.

The girls draped over Jungkook’s body looked up long enough to wave you goodbye, knowing twinkles in their eyes. You may have gotten more than you bargained for.

[itsvminkook]

JIMIN vogue korea

[kittenan]

A Love Written in Politics

Pairing: Politician!Kim Namjoon x Fashion_Designer!Reader Genre: Political marriage of convenience, Arrange Marriage AU, slow-burn, jealousy, obsession , possessive smut, yearning (both sides) Rating: 18+ | Minors DNI Word count: ~14k [Ik!! Again it's a long one but I hope y'all like it.] Warnings: Arranged marriage [Arranged by him], age gap (3 years), power play, dirty talk, marking, size kink, praise kink, dom-sub-switch dynamic, wall sex (little rough), car sex (jealousy fuelled sex), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (refrain IRL), angst, fluff, and Namjoon being completely unhinged for his wife. A/n: Honestly... I’m not from a political background, and I definitely don’t know how politics works in every country. So if something feels a little unrealistic or not perfectly accurate… Kindly ignore it and enjoy the drama. [MASTERLIST]

You were seven when you learned your father hugged like a politician.

Quick. Calculated. For cameras only.

After the flash, he would straighten his suit, pat your head like you were a puppy, and walk away without looking back.

To everyone else you were “the Minister’s daughter.” To your father you weren’t even that. You were… “just an investment.” A future bargaining chip.

Only Chairman Kim ever treated you like a kid.

Every Saturday afternoon, he showed up for tea with your father while discussing politics. He always brought you strawberry candies in golden wrapper.

“For you, little princess,” he’d say, tapping your head, handing you candies while you smiled brightly.

His son always stood behind him. Tall. Quiet. Too serious for a kid.

Kim Namjoon.

You didn’t pay attention to him at first. But at nine, you noticed him properly for the very first time. He was twelve, wearing a navy suit, hair neatly combed. He looked like a tiny adult who had forgotten how to be a child.

You were sitting under the grand staircase with a sketchbook, drawing princess dresses made of candy wrappers.

He walked past.

Then stopped. and looked down at you.

You froze with your pencil mid-air.

He didn’t smile. Didn’t even say a word. He just stared at you for five quiet seconds... long enough for your heartbeat to learn something new, then kept walking.

That night, you tried to draw him.

It was terrible. His head was huge, his body tiny. But you kept the drawing with you like a treasure anyway.

You didn’t know he stopped at the top of the staircase that day, looking back over his shoulder, wondering why a little girl designing candy wrapper dresses felt more alive than the whole house.

National Foundation Day.

It was your first grown-up banquet. You wore a yellow silk sundress embroidered with daisies. Your mother said it made you look “too bright.” Your father said nothing.

Namjoon was also here. He was twenty-one now. Taller... Sharper... Even more handsome in a way that hurt to look at. You saw him from across the ballroom. He was talking to a senator, but your heart already tripped over itself.

When he finally stood alone by the balcony doors, you took a deep breath, lifted your dress slightly so you wouldn’t trip, and walked toward him.

“Hi, Oppa,” you said, trying to sound casual and not like you’d practiced that exact greeting fifty times in the mirror.

He turned.

His eyes skimmed down your yellow sundress… then immediately lifted back to your face.

Too fast. Too controlled.

“Hello,” he said gently, voice and smile polite but distant.

You hated how cold it sounded.

Still, you tried.

“I, um… I saw your speech last week,” you said. “It was really, really good.”

He blinked at you like he wasn’t expecting genuine praise.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Then... “Excuse me.” He stepped around you and walked away.

You stood there alone, gripping your glass so tight your fingers ached.

But.. what you didn’t see was, Namjoon slipped behind a marble pillar twenty feet away, leaned his forehead against the cold stone and whispered under his breath, “…Why did she have to wear yellow? Why did she have to look so bright and cute?”

He stayed there until he calmed his breathing.

Because you were eighteen. And he was twenty one. And he wanted things he absolutely should not want.

At nineteen, you left your hometown to chase your bachelor’s degree—finally free from the suffocating walls of politics and expectations. You ran as far away as your world allowed. Your mother supported your dream.

Into color palettes. Into soft fabrics.

Into a life where people chose you because you made things beautiful, not because you fit into a political chessboard.

Your father fought you for years.

“This career is useless,” he scolded. “You’re embarrassing me.” “Come back and try to join politics.”

You didn’t. You kept sketching. Kept sewing. Kept breathing in a world full of art, not strategies. But when Autumn Festival came around, you had no choice but to return home.

And after a full day of polite smiles, fake compliments, and your father’s constant reminders of “behave,” you needed air. You needed space. You needed escape.

So you slipped away the first chance you got. Straight to the National Assembly library... your secret escape since childhood.

Quiet. Dusty. Safe.

A place where no one asked you to be perfect. A place where you could breathe again. A place filled with old books that smelled like freedom.

You didn’t expect him to be there.

Namjoon was twenty-two, round glasses perched on his nose, surrounded by policy reports. He looked annoyingly attractive in that serious, bookish way.

You hesitated before walking to his table.

“Hi... I didn't expect you here,” you said, softly.

He looked up. And for a second, his expression softened like sunlight touching snow. “You’re home for Chuseok,” he said. It was not a question... cause he already knew.

You nodded. “My house is too loud. I needed to hide.”

He smiled a little at that. “Same.”

You sat across from him.

You talked for forty minutes. Softly. Comfortably. About nothing and everything.

You: “Do you ever get tired of all the grey suits?” Him: “Grey is safe.” You: “Safe is boring.” Him, after a long pause: “…Some of us don’t get to pick exciting.”

At one point, you reached for his pen—even though you had three of your own. Your fingers brushed. He sucked in a sharp breath and pulled his hand back like you’d burned him.

You pretended not to notice.

When you left, he watched you walk all the way to the door. And when the library finally closed, he was still staring at the spot where your fingers had touched his.

Few months later, chairman Kim passed away unexpectedly, it felt like all the color drained from Namjoon’s world.

At the funeral, he stood expressionless. Those deep, thoughtful eyes carried a grief so restrained it almost hurt to look at him. He bowed and thanked guests, all robotic and polite.

It was the first time you saw Namjoon truly break.

You placed a single strawberry candy on the funeral wreath—one he used to give you every weekends.

Namjoon stared at it for a long moment.

When he looked up at you, his eyes were red, his voice rough.

“…Thank you,” he whispered.

You wanted to hug him so badly your chest hurt. But you didn’t. You walked away before you cried.

After that, something hardened inside him. He returned to politics sharper, colder, impossibly composed. He became ice who forgot how to melt.

You approached him once at a diplomatic dinner months later. You wore a dress you designed yourself—lavender silk, soft draping, delicate straps.

Your heart was fluttering like always.

“Oppa… you look thinner,” you said quietly.

“I’m fine.” He replied.

Short. Cold. Clipped.

His eyes flicked away the moment your friend approached.

It hurt. You told yourself he didn’t care. Didn’t feel anything. Never did. But you never knew he went home that night and punched a wall, furious at himself for reacting to you that way.

After that, you stopped trying to get close. He always stepped back anyway. Always kept his distance. Always refused warmth.

To you, it looked like indifference.

But in truth, he kept his distance because you made him feel things... dangerous, irrational things, and in politics, feelings were fatal.

Senior year felt like breathing after holding your lungs tight for ten years. Semester exams were done. Your brain was empty. Your heart finally felt light.

And that night… you wanted to forget everything.

The silver slip dress you wore clung to your skin like moonlight made of silk. You didn’t dress for anyone. You dressed for yourself... for freedom.

“Come on, babe, don’t overthink. Just dance tonight,” your friend Hyejin yelled over the music, pulling you to the center of the crowded Gangnam club.

The bass hit your body first.

The peach soju washed away the last bit of doubt. And the moment you started moving, everything—politics, your father, expectations, Kim Namjoon—blurred into nothing.

Jimin, your classmate, spun you around with a grin.

“You look dangerous tonight,” he joked, laughing.

You rolled your eyes. “Please, I look like someone who needs sleep.”

He laughed louder and pulled you closer. “Lets have fun and just dance before real life crushes you.”

You giggled, letting him guide you. Just harmless fun. Just dancing.

His hands slipped lower on your waist.

You didn’t notice... didn't care... cause he was just a friend. But someone else did.

Namjoon had not planned to stay.

He only came to discuss a campaign donation. He wore a black suit jacket undone, shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled to his elbows. He looked like sin in human form.

He lifted his whisky glass. He was mid-sip when he saw you.

And the world… stopped.

One of the donors said, “Assemblyman Kim, shall we go over the proposal—?”

“Hold on,” Namjoon said without looking away.

Because there you were. Shining... Laughing... Dancing with another man. You spun, silver dress flashing under neon lights. Jimin’s hands settled on your waist.

Namjoon’s fingers tightened around the glass.

He whispered under his breath, “No… absolutely not.”

His jaw flexed. His shoulders locked. He shouldn’t look. He tried not to look. But he failed.

Jimin leaned in close, lips brushing your ear.

“You’re seriously glowing tonight,” he shouted.

You laughed, warm and drunk. “It’s just glitter! Hyejin dumped half a bottle on me!”

He grinned. “Well, it's working and you are shining.”

You smiled back without thinking.

Namjoon saw that smile. And the way Jimin’s chest pressed to your back and how naturally you leaned into the touch. His heart slammed inside his ribs.

One donor asked, “Kim Namjoon-ssi? Are you listening?”

“No,” he said honestly, eyes locked on the dance floor.

“Namjoon-ssi, about the contribution—”

“Not now,” he said, voice clipped, icy.

He barely heard himself. All he heard was the blood roaring in his ears, one thought slamming over and over.

She’s mine. Why is he touching her? Why is she letting him touch her? Why wasn’t I there first?

Your laughter floated up to the balcony.

Something in him snapped.

Namjoon didn’t let them finish. He stood so fast his chair scraped loud across the marble floor. “Excuse me,” he said sharply. He didn’t wait for an answer.

He was breathing too hard. He reached the middle of the staircase and stopped. His chest hurt with how badly he wanted to drag you away from that boy.

He wanted to storm across the floor. He wanted to pull you into him. He wanted the whole club to see who you belonged to. But then another thought punched him.

She still thinks you don’t want her. She still thinks you’ve never looked at her that way.

He squeezed the railing until the metal groaned.

“Not like this,” he whispered. “Not drunk. Not in a club. Not when she doesn't know.”

He forced himself to turn around. Forced himself to walk back up. Forced himself to finish his drink. The glass cracked in his hand before he even realized he was squeezing it that hard.

Blood dripped down his palm, warm and slow.

He was too busy staring at the back of your silver dress in his mind.

Too busy remembering the very first time he wanted to kiss you—in that stupid yellow sundress years ago. Too busy losing the last bit of restraint he had left.

He left early.

He didn’t trust himself to stay.

Not when he knew exactly how good you’d feel pinned against the wall. Not when he knew exactly how easy it would be to claim your mouth and whisper, “I never stopped wanting you.”

He sat in his car for a long moment, hands shaking on the steering wheel. Then he whispered into the dark. “I’m done waiting.”

Meanwhile, You… You danced until your heels hurt and your hair stuck to your neck. Jimin offered to walk you home.

You shook your head. “I’m fine! Taxi is enough.”

He ruffled your hair. “Your loss.”

You laughed and waved goodbye.

You fell into bed at 4 a.m., cheeks flushed, heartbeat warm, mind airy.

And you didn’t think about Namjoon even once. Because you still believed he didn’t want you. You had no idea that the man you thought was cold and uninterested…

…just walked away because he was terrified he’d kiss you in the middle of a crowded club.

Terrified he’d finally lose control.

And deeply unaware that his control was already gone.

The dining room in your family’s official residence was always cold, even in summer.

Crystal chandelier, long mahogany table, portraits of presidents staring down like they were judging the food.

You were twenty-one, home for the weekend from university, wearing an oversized cream sweater and soft linen pants, hair still damp from the shower.

Your father sat at the head of the table, tie loosened for once but jaw locked tight. The staff brought the food in, quietly as always, never making eye contact. He didn’t let them finish.

He put his phone on the table—flat, heavy, decisive. “We need to talk about your future.”

You paused mid-bite, chopsticks hovering. “My… future?”

You tried to smile. Failed. “Dad, I already told you and mom. I got that internship in Paris. Remember? The eco-fashion collective? They only choose seven people in the whole...”

“I’m not talking about hobbies,” he interrupted, dismissing your dream with one flick of his hand.

You froze. “Hobbies?”

Your chest pinched. “Dad, it’s not a hobby, it’s my—”

“A marriage proposal has come for you and you will marry Assemblyman Choi’s son,” he continued, calm and cold. “Next month. You can finish rest of your last semester from here. I know attendance isn’t mandatory for this semester.”

The words slammed into you like a fist. Your chopsticks slipped and clattered onto the bowl. The sound echoed far too loudly.

“…What?” you whispered.

Your father didn’t flinch. “It’s already arranged. The Chois are powerful allies. This is a good match.”

“No.” You pushed your chair back. “Dad, absolutely not. Minhyuk is—”

“A respectable young man,” he cut in.

“A creep!” Your voice cracked. “He hits on my friends! Last month at the gala he cornered Ji-eun—”

“Rumors,” he snapped. “Girls exaggerate.”

Your jaw dropped. You felt sick.

“Dad, he’s a walking scandal. He literally bragged about cheating on his ex because she was ‘too clingy.’ I’m not marrying a man like that—”

“You will,” he said, slamming his palm on the table.

The glasses jumped. So did you.

“Because I said so.”

“Why won’t you listen to me?” Tears piled hot behind your eyes. “I’m building something. Fashion is important to me. I’m actually good at it—my professor said my designs could get into Seoul Fashion Week...”

“Enough.” His voice boomed. “Stop embarrassing yourself with glitter and fabric scraps. You have my name. That means something. And you will honor it.”

Your throat burned.

“Is that all I am to you?” Your voice trembled. “A tool? A deal? A pretty bargain chip?”

He didn’t deny it. He didn’t even hesitate.

“You are a disgrace to this family! Wasting your time on useless creative fields... drawing dresses like some starving artist! Do you know how many doors my name opens? And you throw it away for fabric scraps and glitter?”

Tears stung your eyes, hot and angry. “It’s not useless! It’s my life! You never even asked what I want!”

“What you want?” He stood too, towering over the table, face red.

“You want to embarrass me? Parading around in those ridiculous clothes, partying with those artsy nobodies? No daughter of mine will live like that. You will marry Minhyuk. You will smile at events. You will give me grandchildren who will carry this legacy. End of discussion. Or I pull every penny of your tuition, your apartment, your precious little fabric budget. You’ll be on the street by Monday.”

You went still. Absolutely still.

“Dad…” Your voice was barely air. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” he said simply. “And I will.”

Then he buttoned his jacket.

“Dinner is over.”

He walked out, door slamming behind him so violently the chandelier trembled. You sat back down slowly, shoulders trembling, tears falling silently into your lap.

You whispered into the empty room, “I hate you… I hate you so much.”

The staff pretended not to hear. But everyone did.

Namjoon’s office was dim, lit only by a desk lamp as he reviewed policies. He’d been working for hours; exhaustion clung to him like smoke.

His chief of staff entered quietly.

“Sir… there’s news. I think you should know.”

Namjoon didn’t look up. “What is it?”

The chief hesitated. “Minister Park just informed Chairman Choi… that his daughter agreed to marry Minhyuk.”

Namjoon’s pen froze mid-sentence.

“…What?” His voice was so low, it barely counted as a word.

“They’re planning the wedding for next month.” Chief replied.

Namjoon slowly lowered his pen, staring at nothing. “She agreed?” he repeated, like he needed confirmation.

“He says so...” The chief nodded, but continued, “... but I heard she was threatened too.”

Snap...

The pen broke clean in half in Namjoon’s hand. Ink bled over his skin, but he didn’t feel it. Namjoon stood abruptly, grabbing his coat.

“Sir... where are you—?”

“Get the car.”

“Sir?”

“Now.” He roared.

He drove faster than he should have through the quiet streets of Seoul. Every muscle in his body was tight. His grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled. His jaw was locked so hard it ached.

She agreed? Did she really? I can't believe it... I know her father force her? Does she think she has no choice?

His heart hammered.

He couldn’t let this happen. He wouldn’t. He knew your father might have forced you or threatened you.

You were his... No one can dare to touch you... He couldn’t even finish the thought without losing control of the car. He reached your father’s residence in minutes. Security let him in without question.

Your father looked up from his brandy as Namjoon entered unannounced.

“Namjoon,” he said calmly, “it’s very late.”

Namjoon didn’t bow... Didn’t sit... Didn’t even breathe properly.

“I’m here to discuss about your daughter.”

Your father smirked faintly. “You heard the news.”

“I did.” Namjoon stepped closer. “And I’m here to tell you something.”

Your father raised an eyebrow. Namjoon’s voice was steady, but beneath the calm was something dangerous.

“She will not marry Choi Minhyuk.” He pause a beat. “She will marry me.”

The amused expression disappeared from your father’s face. “You’re serious.”

Namjoon’s chest rose and fell once. “Completely.”

Your father set his glass down slowly. “Namjoon… you are an excellent young man. Too excellent for someone like her. You can easily aim for someone from a stronger political family.”

Namjoon’s jaw flexed. “I’m not asking.”

Your father stiffened. “…What did you say?”

Namjoon stepped directly in front of the desk, lowering his voice.

“I’m telling you. I will marry her... Not Choi... No one else... Only Me.”

Your father narrowed his eyes. “And why should I agree to this sudden… demand?”

Namjoon leaned forward, palms flat on the desk. “Because I’m the only man in this country who can give you what Choi never will... stability. Power. Control.”

Your father blinked.

Namjoon continued, tone razor-sharp. “Choi Minhyuk will embarrass you within a year. His scandals will drag your legacy through the dirt. But with me? Your family name becomes untouchable. I don’t lose. I don’t slip. I don’t fail. Tie your daughter to me, and your future is secure.”

Your father stared at him for a long, heavy moment. Then he slowly reached for his phone. “Prepare the marriage documents for Kim Namjoon,” he said into it. “Have them sent to his office by morning.”

Namjoon straightened.

Your father looked up. “The wedding announcement will be next week.”

Namjoon nodded once. “Thank you, Minister.”

He turned to leave, but paused at the doorway. “One more thing.”

Your father looked up again.

Namjoon’s voice dropped to a quiet, deadly softness.

“If you ever threaten her tuition, her career, or her freedom again, I will personally make sure you spend the rest of your career counting paper clips in a provincial office. Do we understand each other?”

A flicker of fear crossed your father’s face. “…We understand each other.”

“Good.” Namjoon left.

Outside, in the cold night air, he leaned against his car, finally letting the breath he’d been holding escape.

His hands were still stained with broken pen ink.

He closed his eyes, head falling back.

He’d waited eight long years to claim you... Eight years of distance, of control, of swallowing every feeling.

Now? You were finally, undeniably his.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, heart pounding.

“I’m coming for you,” he whispered to the night.

“And this time… I’m not stepping back.”

The hallways smelled like polished wood and ambition.

You didn’t call ahead. You didn’t care that his secretary tried to stop you. You shoved past her, heels clicking like gunshots on the marble, coat half-on, hair wild from the wind outside. You pushed the heavy oak door open so hard it banged against the wall.

Namjoon was standing at the window, phone pressed to his ear, back straight, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up. He ended the call without turning.

“I wondered how long it would take you to find me,” he said, calm, almost too calm.

You slammed the door behind you. Your hands trembled.

“How dare you,” you said, voice shaking with anger. “How dare you walk into my life like you own it and decide who I marry!”

He finally turned, slowly, eyes unreadable.

“I didn’t decide anything,” he said. Calm. Infuriatingly calm. “Your father did. I just changed the name on the contract.”

Your feet pounded across the floor until you were standing right in front of him, barely an inch apart.

“Who the hell asked you to play hero, Kim Namjoon?” you spat, chest heaving.

He looked down at you, jaw tight. “You preferred Choi Minhyuk?”

The name tasted like poison.

“I prefer no one!” you said. “I want to finish my degree, open my own studio, live my life... my way!”

He chuckled, low and sharp. “And you think your father was going to let you do that?” His eyes darkened. “He would have sold you to the highest bidder the second you walked across that stage. I know it. You know it.”

Your hands flew to his chest, shoving, angry, desperate.

He didn’t budge. Not an inch.

Instead, in a move so fast it stole your breath, he caught your wrists and yanked you toward him. You stumbled, crashing into him, palms flat against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat thundering beneath your fingers.

Your faces were inches apart. His breath brushed your lips... warm, faintly minty, with a rich undertone of coffee that made your stomach clench.

You hated how good he smelled.

You hated how your anger faltered for a split second, leaving your body betraying your mind.

“You should be thanking me,” he said, voice low, rough.

“Thanking you?” you spat, trying to pull away. He didn’t let go. “For what?”

“For saving you from him.” He glanced at your chest, then up at your eyes. “Choi Minhyuk would have destroyed you. Made you quit your passion, smiled at cameras while crying alone in bathrooms. I’ve seen what he does. I’ve seen the bruises he leaves on hearts like yours.”

Your stomach sank.

Namjoon’s voice dropped even lower. “I will never lay a hand on you in anger. I will never ask you to be less than you are.”

He leaned in until his forehead almost touched yours. “With me, you graduate. You design. You travel to Paris, Milan, New York, wherever the hell you want. You keep your name on the label. You keep your freedom.”

His grip loosened, but he didn't let go. “You’ll just have my last name too.”

You trembled. Rage mixed with something hotter, something dangerous.

“And what do you get out of this, Namjoon?” you whispered. “A political boost? Bragging rights? Or… a pretty little trophy wife?”

His jaw flexed.

He let go of one wrist to cup your face, thumb brushing over your cheekbone like you were fragile glass. “I get to sleep peacefully at night knowing that you are safe and no one else is touching you.”

The words landed between you, raw and sharp. You sucked in a breath. He saw it, eyes darkening.

Then he stepped back, regaining control.

Cold, smooth control that had nothing to do with kindness.

“Two days,” he said. “Think about it.”

He walked back to his desk. He didn’t glance at you again. You left, shaking, slamming the door behind you.

You drove to your mother’s apartment, the one your father pretended didn’t exist after the divorce. She opened the door in loose silk pajamas, hair falling around her face, eyes tired but alert.

You collapsed into her arms, crying like a child.

When the story spilled out, she didn’t flinch.

She poured chamomile tea, sat you on the couch.

“I married your father because I had no choice. I was young and scared,” she said quietly. “I thought love would grow. It didn’t. Every year, I got smaller.”

She held your hands. “Namjoon… that boy has watched you since you were sixteen. He’s never smiled much, but his eyes… they were always on you. Keeping you safe. Waiting.”

You swallowed hard. “He… he doesn’t even like me.”

“He’s in love with you,” your mother corrected gently.

“He’s giving you a door your father wants to slam shut forever. Take it, baby. You can always choose whatever destination you want later through that door.”

Next Morning, you walked into his office again. The secretary didn’t even try to stop you this time. He was at his desk, pen in hand, signing papers. He looked up as you closed the door softly.

Hands shaking, you forced your voice steady. “I have conditions.”

He leaned back, eyes never leaving yours. “Name them.”

“I finish my degree, my internship. No interference.”

“Done.”

“I keep my studio, my brand, my name on every label.”

“Done.”

“I am not a doll. I will not quit my life to smile next to you at banquets.”

He stood, crossed the desk until he was in front of you. “I don’t want a doll. I want you. Safe and peaceful.”

Your throat tightened. “One more,” you whispered.

He waited.

“If you ever try to control me the way he does—”

“I won’t,” he said, voice steady, eyes locking with yours.

You exhaled, relief, fear, and something wild all at once. “Then… yes.”

For the first time, Kim Namjoon smiled.

A real smile, like he’d been holding his breath for years.

“Thank you,” he said, voice rough.

“You won’t regret this,” he murmured, softer.

You lifted your chin. “I’d better not.”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “Welcome home, Mrs. Kim.”

You rolled your eyes, heart thundering for a completely different reason. “Technically I’m not Mrs. Anything yet.”

“Give it one month,” he whispered, stepping closer. Close enough that stepping back wasn’t an option anymore.

And for the first time, you didn’t even try to.

The wedding had been quick.

Too quick.

A blur of black suits, white flowers, and your father’s satisfied nods. Nothing warm, nothing soft... just contracts, handshakes, and a single fleeting glance from Namjoon that left your stomach twisting for reasons you couldn’t name yet.

Moving into his penthouse felt like stepping into another world... luxury that almost hurt your eyes, marble floors that echoed every step, and a quiet so deep it was suffocating.

You unpacked in your separate room, the one at the far end of the hall. He had his own, just a few doors away. That night you lay in that big bed and stared at the ceiling until dawn.

You came down the stairs at 9:15 a.m., legs bare in those tiny silk shorts, drowning in your oversized hoodie. You were still sleepy, still warm, still looking like trouble.

He was already at the kitchen island in fresh suit, sleeves rolled up, black coffee steaming beside a tablet full of boring government stuff.

He heard your footsteps. He looked up once... just once, and his eyes stopped dead on your legs.

A quick inhale. A tiny freeze in his action.

Then he ripped his gaze back to the screen like his life depended on it. You shrugged and pretended not to notice.

You grabbed a bowl and poured cereal. The clinking sounded like a loud gunshot in the silent kitchen.

Still, you tried.

“Good morning,” you said softly.

He didn’t look up. Not even a little.

“Morning,” he answered, voice low, careful… like if he looked at you again he would do something stupid.

You sat down three stools away, dramatically... like a queen claiming her territory.

Then… silence. Awkward, heavy, warm silence.

You stared at him. Then at his shoulders. Then at the tiny muscle twitching in his jaw. You lasted forty-three seconds.

“Do you always eat alone?” you blurted, poking at your cereal like it offended you.

He finally glanced at you—this controlled, composed look with eyes that were way too soft for someone pretending not to care.

“I’m used to it,” he said. Not coldly but honestly.

You huffed, stirring your cereal aggressively. “Yeah, well… you have a wife now. So get unused to it.”

His mouth twitched. The closest thing to a smile he’s allowed himself at 9 a.m.

“Noted,” he murmured, voice warm this time.

You tried not to smile.

He tried not to stare at your legs again. Both of you failed.

Soon, he finished his coffee, slipped into his blazer, and paused by the front door. “I’ll be late,” he said. “Long session at the Assembly.”

You nodded, sipping your coffee. “Come home safe.”

He froze for half a second—like the words did something to him, but then he nodded, voice lower now.

“I will.” And then he was gone.

You didn’t see him again for 18 hours, but the warm echo of that tiny, hard-won smile stayed with you the whole day.

It was 6:12 a.m., another morning at house where silence lived more louder than the conversations you two ever had.

It was way too early for your brain to function, but cravings don’t care about sleep schedules. You stood on your toes, tiny cotton shorts riding up your thighs as you reached, struggling—for the top-shelf.

You didn’t hear him come in.

But you felt him first.

A warm breath hit the back of your neck... soft, slow, like he was tasting the moment. You stiffened, fingers curling on the cabinet edge.

And then his bare chest—still faintly damp from his early gym session, pressed against your back.

Hard muscle. Hot skin.

A silent, dangerous wall of him.

He reached past you, arm brushing your cheek, body pinning you to the counter without even touching you intentionally. Your breath caught. He didn’t move away.

For five heavy, stretched-out seconds, the whole world narrowed to heat radiating from his body, your pounding heartbeat, and the thin layer of your shirt separating your spine from his chest.

He spoke low, voice rough with sleep and sweat. “This shelf is too high for you.”

Your throat tightened. “I'll manage.”

He didn’t answer right away.

He just lowered the cereal box… slowly… setting it on the counter with deliberate care.

His knuckles skimmed your hip on the way down.

A soft graze. Barely a touch.

But your breath hitched like he’d put his hand under your shirt.

His chest finally pulled away from your back, and you exhaled without knowing you’d been holding anything in.

You turned to face him.

He was already halfway across the kitchen, shoulders stiff, jaw flexing so hard you saw the muscle jump near his cheek. Like he was holding something back. Like touching you, even accidentally, was a test he barely passed.

You opened your mouth to say something but he didn’t look back.

Just tossed over his shoulder, voice low. “You shouldn’t have to struggle for basic things.”

Then he disappeared into his room.

The next morning, you shuffled into the kitchen, hair messy, eyes half-shut and froze.

Everything... Every single thing, was rearranged.

The cereal. The snacks. The spices. The ladles. The jars. All placed lower. All placed where you could reach without stretching.

You blinked, stunned. “This wasn’t like this yesterday…”

You heard his voice behind you, softer this time but with the same deep rumble. “You don’t have to struggle for anything in this house.”

You turned.

He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching you with those unreadable eyes.

“Why did you…? And when...?” you asked.

His jaw flexed again before he admitted, quietly, “Because I didn’t like seeing you struggle.”

Your heart did a stupid flip.

Every morning started the same way and night ended the same way.

Maybe it was the brush of his fingers against yours when he handed you a glass, the touch so light it felt like an accident but lasted just a second too long.

Maybe it was a care and love hidden under those tiny acts and moments. Or maybe it was the way your eyes met in the dim hallway, his gaze sliding down to your mouth, yours flickering to his collarbone, silence stretching warm and unbearable between you.

Someone always looked away first, pretending nothing had happened… even though you both felt it.

That unfinished moment followed you to your separate rooms, settling under your skin, making the air heavier the next morning. Nothing was ever resolved.

Nothing was ever said.

And every night the tension just… lived there, growing thicker, waiting for one of you to finally stop walking away.

It was supposed to be a quick phone call.

Instead, your father’s voice sliced you open like it always did. “Three months married and not even a single public appearance! Do you want people to talk? Do you want to embarrass me again? And along with me Namjoon too!”

Your throat tightened. “Dad, I’m finishing my degree... I need to submit my designs...”

“Nonsense. Namjoon is being polite, but that doesn't mean you will take advantage of it. He is gonna run for Mayor soon and he needs a proper wife beside him. Get your priorities straight.” He hung up before you could breathe.

You sank onto the cold marble floor of the hallway, hugging your knees, trying to swallow the knot in your chest, but the tears came anyway, hot and unstoppable.

You didn’t even hear footsteps.

Just a sudden shadow falling across you.

“Hey…” Namjoon’s voice dipped low, gentle in a way that cut deeper. “Hey. What happened?”

You shook your head, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “It’s nothing. I’m just… being... dramatic.”

He dropped to his knees in front of you so fast it startled you.

“No.” He took your shaking hands, prying them away from your face. “You don’t cry like this unless someone hurt you.”

Your lips parted, breath trembling. “I... I talked to my father.”

Namjoon went still.

His jaw flexed once. Twice. Something dark moved behind his eyes.

“What did he say?” His voice was so calm it was dangerous.

“That I’m… embarrassing him... and you too. That I’m not being a proper wife. That I should forget my stupid degree and—” Your voice cracked.

His thumb brushed a tear off your cheek.

Then another.

Then the next.

“Live your life the way you want,” he whispered, inching closer. “I’ll handle everything else.”

You swallowed, a sob escaping before you could hold it back.

He cupped your face with both hands—warm, large, steady. Your breaths tangled. His forehead almost touched yours.

You could feel his heartbeat.

Fast. Hard. Uncontrolled.

For a moment, you thought he’d kiss you. His eyes flicked to your lips but he stopped himself. Pulled back like your lips were fire.

His hands fell to his lap.

He looked away, breathing unevenly.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t…”

You didn’t understand what he meant cause he never completed the sentence. You only knew your chest hurt when he stood up and helped you to your feet, careful not to touch you too long.

“Let me take care of my campaigns,” he said gently. “You focus on your dreams.”

You nodded, thinking he was just being kind.

He walked away with fists clenched, jaw locked, like he was punishing himself for wanting you too much.

A week later, you were hunched over your laptop in the living room, surrounded by fabric swatches and sketches. Your leg bounced restlessly, your teeth worrying your bottom lip.

You didn’t hear him come in until he spoke. “You’re overthinking.”

You jumped. “Uh... I’m working.”

“Torturing yourself isn’t the same thing,” he replied calmly, sliding his hands into his pockets as he walked closer.

You glared. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” His voice was unshakeably gentle. “Tell me what you are struggling with. Tell me what you need.”

You shook your head. “Materials. But the supplier is out. And the backup is too expensive. And the design idea is good but I can’t finalize it because the fabric isn’t right and—”

“Okay.” He stopped in front of you, lowering his voice. “Slow down. Which materials?”

You blinked, surprisingly.

He listened as you rambled, your hands moving animatedly, describing textures, cuts, colors, structure.

He didn’t interrupt. Not once.

He looked at you like the world’s gone quiet and you’re the only thing worth hearing.

Hours later, when you stepped out of the bathroom after a shower, you noticed boxes stacked neatly by the wall.

Your heart stopped.

Everything you mentioned. Even the items you said were “impossible to get at very short notice.”

You found him in the hallway, sleeves rolled up, opening the last box.

“You did all this?” you whispered.

“I told you,” he said without looking up, “I’ll handle everything else. And I hate seeing you struggle.”

The next morning, he led you to a door you had never opened.

Inside?

A full studio. Your dream studio.

Tailored exactly to the way you work.

You turned to him, stunned. “Namjoon… this is—this is too much.”

“No,” he said, meeting your eyes steadily. “It’s not enough.”

You swallowed hard.

He stepped closer, gaze gentle. “You deserve space to build your future. You’re not supposed to fit your dreams into a corner of the living room.”

Your chest tightened. “You made this… for me?”

“I made it because I like watching you work,” he said, then immediately looked away like he didn’t mean to be that honest. “It—uh—it’s important to you. That’s all.”

But you heard it.

Two weeks later, everything had blown up—posters everywhere, meetings stacked on meetings until he was nothing but a shadow passing through the house. You hardly saw him anymore... except in the quiet hours of the morning.

And the day he officially filed his candidacy, you dressed him in the first suit you’d finished for him.

A midnight–navy wool-silk… smooth, rich, beautiful with hand-stitched lapels. A thin silver pinstripe that showed only when he moved.

He looked unreal in it. But you pretended you weren’t staring.

He stood in the center of your studio like a perfectly-behaved mannequin, while you circled him with pins in your teeth and your heart somewhere in your throat.

“Arms up,” you said, tapping his elbow.

He lifted them instantly. No hesitation. No argument. Just complete obedience to your soft little command.

You pretended it didn’t affect you.

He watched you in the studio mirror, eyes following every move you made.

Your palm slid over his shoulder, smoothing the fabric. You stepped closer, fingertips smoothing down the length of his bicep, then flattening the jacket across his chest.

His chest was warm. His heartbeat was fast.

You tried to pretend you didn’t notice.

“Is it too tight here?” you asked softly, pressing your hand over his heart to check the fit.

A low sound escaped him... half-laugh, half something else. His eyes flicked to yours in the mirror.

“If it were any looser,” he said, “I’d look like I borrowed my father’s suit.”

You smiled under your breath and moved behind him to check the vents. Your hands skimmed lightly along his waist to adjust the back seam.

He inhaled sharply—so sharply that you felt it through the fabric.

“Stop moving,” you scolded, nudging him with your knee.

“Believe me,” he muttered, “I’m trying.”

You stepped to his front again, reaching for the tie you dyed yourself—a deep burgundy that warmed against his skin. You slid it under his collar, your knuckles brushing his throat.

He swallowed. You felt everything.

“Hold still,” you whispered.

He didn’t. He swayed almost imperceptibly closer.

You tied the knot slowly, adjusting it until it sat perfectly. Your hand smoothed down the tie, down the firm line of his chest… and lingered over his heart again without meaning to.

Your voice dropped. “There. You look…”

You swallowed the rest.

He turned his head, meeting your eyes through the mirror like the way a man does when he’s trying very hard not to cross a line.

“How do I look?” he asked, voice deep and rough.

You let out a shaky breath. “Like you’re going to win.”

His eyes dropped immediately to your mouth. “And if I do win?”

You stepped back a tiny bit—barely an inch. “Then the city gets a mayor who dresses well.”

He gave a soft, humorless laugh, like it hurt him. “That’s all?”

Your fingers were still brushing his chest, even though you were trying to drag them away. His heartbeat was wild under your palm—louder, faster, like he was afraid you’d hear everything he’d been holding back.

“Mhmm...,” you said quietly.

He closed his eyes for a second, breathing like he needed to calm himself, then stepped back with visible effort. His hands clenched at his sides.

“One more month,” he told himself in mind, almost like a promise. “Just one more month…”

He left before you could say anything further, afraid he’d grab you, afraid he’d kiss you, afraid he’d ruin the careful control he’d been holding onto.

You watched him on the television from your new studio—half-finished sketches on the table, fabric scissors forgotten in your hand.

He stepped onto the stage for his first town-hall speech wearing the suit you made for him.

Under the bright lights, the midnight navy shimmered. Every turn caught the silver pinstripe. The burgundy tie glowed against his throat.

He looked powerful... Confident... And heartbreakingly handsome.

A reporter leaned forward. “Mr. Kim, your suit looks fantastic today. It's different than what you usually wear. May we ask who designed it?”

He smiled—small, soft, secret.

“My wife,” he said.

Those two words hit you harder than the studio lights above you. You felt your breath catch, your chest tighten, your heart race against your ribs.

He said it with pride. With ownership.

With something warm and protective in his voice that made your knees weak.

You pressed a hand to your chest as he continued speaking on screen, his voice steady and strong. But all you could hear was the smile in his voice when he said it.

My wife.

You’d promised one night for yourself before finals took over everything. Just one night to forget the weight on your shoulders. One night to laugh with the friends who pulled you out of the suffocating world of politics and lit up your college days.

One last night before all of you drifted toward your own futures.

So you went out with your friends to a rooftop bar in Itaewon—fairy lights hanging above you, cheap cocktails in plastic cups, music loud enough that your overthinking finally shut up for a few hours.

Jungkook, your playful, chaotic friend, offered to drive you home when your cab cancelled. At 2:13 a.m., his matte-black Jeep stopped in front of the entrance to the penthouse.

You leaned over the console to side-hug him, laughing at something stupid he had said. “Thanks for the ride, Kook. Seriously.”

He hugged you back briefly and grinned. “Anytime. Text me when you’re alive tomorrow.”

You hopped out, still giggling, hair messy, heels dangling from your fingers.

You didn’t know someone else had watched the entire thing.

Namjoon had been pacing the living room for two full hours, phone in hand, pretending he wasn’t waiting for you. He saw the hug. He saw you smiling. He saw another man’s hands around you.

And something inside him burned.

The moment Jungkook’s car drove off, you stepped inside—humming softly, completely unaware of the storm brewing for you.

You stopped dead.

Namjoon stood in the dark living room, facing the window, the city lights outlining his tall frame. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly wild like he had been dragging his fingers through it.

His voice cut through the darkness like a knife. “You should have told me you’d be late.”

Your heart jumped. “God, Namjoon. Don’t stand in the dark like that. It’s creepy.”

“I wasn’t trying to scare you,” he said without turning. “I was waiting.”

“For what?” you asked, dropping your heels by the door.

“For you,” he said simply.

You blinked. “I texted you. You didn’t reply.”

He finally turned toward you. His eyes were sharp. “I was in a strategy meeting until 11.”

You let out a breath. “Okay… then what’s the problem?”

He stepped forward. Slowly. Controlled.

But his jaw was tight, and you saw the muscle tick.

“The problem,” he said softly, “is coming home and watching some guy put his hands on my wife.”

Your lips parted. “Jungkook just hugged me. He was driving me home...”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It DOES matter. He’s my friend!”

“I don’t care,” Namjoon growled, taking another step. “I don’t care about him. I care that his hands were on you. I care that you were laughing in his car. I care that you didn’t tell me you’d be with him that late.”

You stared at him, stunned.

Then a sharp, humorless laugh escaped you.

“You don’t get to be jealous,” you said. “You don’t even TOUCH me, Namjoon. You barely LOOK at me. You treat me like a roommate you’re forced to live with—”

His voice cracked open, raw and ragged. “Because I’m trying not to ruin you before you graduate.”

The room fell silent. You swallowed, the anger melting into hurt.

“Then why... why do you act like you don’t want me?” Your voice shook. “Every time I get close, you step away. We sleep in separate rooms. You treat me like I’m made of glass. You don’t even love me. You’re just stuck with me. So why the hell do you care who drops me home?”

Something inside him broke. You could feel it.

He moved faster than you could process.

In two strides, he had you caged against the wall, his hands on either side of your head, chest rising and falling, breath shaking.

He wasn’t touching you. But the air between you felt electric.

His voice was low, furious, trembling. “You think I don’t want you?”

Your breath stopped.

He leaned closer, lips almost brushing your cheek.

“I have wanted you,” he whispered, “since you were sixteen and I was nineteen. And it was wrong. It was illegal. And I hated myself every single day for it.”

Your eyes widened, heart slamming against your ribs.

He continued, voice breaking, “I married you because the thought of another men breathing near you made me want to burn the world down. I married you so no one else ever would.”

His forehead pressed gently against yours. His whole body shook with restraint.

“I count the hours until your graduation,” he murmured, “because if I touch you now... if I kiss you now—I’m afraid I won’t let you leave that bed for days.”

Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer until your lips hovered an inch from his.

“Then stop being fucking coward,” you whispered.

“I’m twenty-two. I’ve been yours on paper for three months and yours in every way that matters. So fucking show me. I’m not a kid anymore.”

His breath hitched. His grip tightened on the wall. His eyes dropped to your lips like he was starving.

And that was the moment... everything snapped inside him.

He made a sound you’d never heard from him before—half-groan, half-growl, like something wild had finally been let out of its cage.

Then his mouth crashed onto yours. There was nothing soft about it.

No pause. No hesitation.

Just years of hunger slamming into you all at once.

His lips were hot, desperate, almost angry with how long he’d held himself back. Your teeth bumped, your tongues tangled, breath mixing in messy gasps that tasted like whiskey, jealousy, and every held-back fantasy he’d buried for years.

You moaned into him... high, needy—and he swallowed the sound like he’d been starving for it. His hand slid into your hair, fingers curling tight, controlling your head with an ease that sent heat pooling between your legs.

The other hand grabbed your thigh, hauled it up around his hip, dragging you flush against the thick, hard heat straining against his slacks.

His hips rolled, rough and frustrated.

“Fuck…” he breathed against your lips, voice torn open. “Feel that? That’s what you’ve been doing to me for years, sweetheart. Every damn day.”

You couldn’t even speak.

Your hands were shaking as you grabbed at his shirt, popping buttons, pushing fabric aside until your palms met his bare chest.

Hot. Solid. Trembling.

His heart hammered so hard you felt it against your fingers.

He groaned—a deep, broken sound, and dropped his mouth to your neck. The first kiss was hot. The second was harder. Then he sucked, teeth dragging, leaving a mark that made your knees almost give out.

“Tell me to stop,” he gasped against your skin. He was breathing like he’d run miles. “If you say stop, I swear to God I will. But this is the last time I’m asking you. Last chance, baby...”

“Don’t you dare,” you panted, nails dragging down his back hard enough to make him hiss. “Don’t you fucking dare stop.”

Something in him snapped clean in half.

He spun you so fast you gasped, your back hitting the wall as his body pressed into yours from behind. His mouth found the nape of your neck, kissing, biting, breathing you in like he’d been drowning in restraint.

His hands slid under your cropped sweater, warm palms gliding over your stomach, up your ribs, until they cupped your breasts completely. He groaned into your skin as his thumbs brushed your nipples through the lace—slow first, then firmer when he felt you shaking.

“God,” he whispered, voice shaking, “I dreamed about this. I dreamed about touching you like this. You don’t even know what you do to me.”

You arched back, grinding against the hard line of his cock. He cursed—low, filthy, helpless.

“Baby…” he rasped, forehead pressed to your shoulder, breath hot on your skin. “If you do that again, I’m gonna lose every bit of control I have left.”

You did it again.

And he broke all over you.

“These clothes,” he snarled, yanking your sweater over your head, bra following in one impatient tug. Cool air hit your skin and then his mouth was on your shoulder, your spine, licking a hot path downward as he dropped to his knees behind you.

He spun you so fast the room tilted, hands rough on your hips as he folded you forward, palms slamming flat against the wall for balance. Your skirt was already bunched at your waist, panties dangling uselessly around one ankle now.

Cool air kissed your soaked skin for half a second, and then his mouth was on you, no warning, no mercy.

“OW... FUCK... Namjoon—”

He groaned, deep and guttural, the sound vibrating straight through your core. “Fuck, you taste better than I dreamed,” he rasped, voice muffled against you. “So fucking sweet.”

Another long, deliberate lick, slower this time, flattening his tongue so he could feel every shudder that rolled through you. When he reached your clit he circled it once, twice, then sucked it between his lips, hard.

Your knees buckled.

You would’ve hit the floor if his hands weren’t gripping your hips like iron.

“Stay right there,” he ordered, voice wrecked. “Legs open. Let me eat this pretty pussy the way I’ve been dying to for months.”

He spread you wider with his thumbs, exposing you completely, and dove back in. This time his tongue speared inside you, thrusting deep, curling, fucking into you like he couldn’t get far enough.

You felt the wet drag of it, the obscene sounds of him drinking you down echoing off the walls.

“Namjoon... oh god—”

You whimpered, pushing back against his face shamelessly.

He moaned again, louder, the vibration making you clench around nothing. “That’s it,” he growled. “Fuck yourself on my tongue. Show me how bad you wanted this.”

You did, rocking back, chasing his mouth.

He let you for three desperate strokes, then took control again, tongue flicking fast over your clit, relentless, before sucking it hard enough that stars burst behind your eyes.

“Gonna make you come so hard you forget your own name,” he promised, words slurred against your slick folds. “Then I’m gonna do it again with my cock.”

Two fingers pushed inside you without warning, curling hard, and you cried out, palms slapping the wall for balance.

“So wet,” he growled, voice muffled against your skin. “Been wet for me for months, haven’t you?”

“Yes—fuck—yes—” You clenched around his fingers so hard.

“Come for me, baby,” he demanded, voice raw. “Come all over my face, right now, let me taste it...”

The orgasm crashed over you so hard you screamed, thighs clamping around his head, hips jerking helplessly as wave after wave tore through you.

He didn’t stop, just kept licking, gentler now, drawing it out until you were sobbing from overstimulation, pushing weakly at his forehead.

Only then did he pull back, lips shiny, eyes black with lust, your wetness glistening on his chin. He stood slowly, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip like he was savoring the taste.

“Turn around,” he said, voice hoarse. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

He made you stand in one motion, spinning you again to face him. His belt clinked open, zipper rasping down. You reached for him desperately, fingers wrapping around his cock... hot, thick, leaking—and he hissed, head falling back.

Your back hit the wall again as he lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. The head of his cock nudged your entrance, slick and burning.

“Look at me,” he demanded, voice shaking.

You did.

His eyes were wild, pupils blown, lips swollen from your kisses. Sweat glistened at his temple.

“I love you,” he said, raw and reverent. “I love you so much it’s fucking killing me.”

Then he pushed in... one long, slow, devastating thrust that stretched you open and seated him to the hilt. You both froze, trembling, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other’s air.

He didn’t move yet.

Just held you there, buried deep, pulsing inside you.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he whispered against your mouth.

“I’m yours,” you breathed. “Always was.”

His control snapped a second time.

He pulled back and slammed inside again, hard enough that your moan cracked in half.

“Fuck—” you sobbed, head banging back against the wall.

Namjoon didn’t give you time to breathe.

He set a punishing rhythm, hips snapping forward with wet, filthy slaps of skin on skin, the wall trembling behind you with every relentless drive. Each stroke dragged the ridge of his cock over that spot inside you that made your vision spark white, made your toes curl.

Your nails raked down his shoulders, carved burning lines across his back, and he hissed through his teeth, fucking you harder.

“Like that?” he growled against your ear, voice ragged. “You want it rough, baby? Been dreaming about splitting this tight little pussy open for years.”

“Yes—yes... Fuck... harder—” you chanted, barely sane.

He shoved one hand between your sweat-slick bodies, fingers finding your clit, swollen and slick, and started rubbing fast, merciless circles that matched the brutal pace of his cock.

“Listen to you,” he rasped, breath scorching your throat. “Listen to how wet you are for me. Can hear it every time I fuck into you—soaked down my balls, dripping on the floor.”

The obscene sound of it filled the room... slick, rhythmic, filthy, mixed with your broken moans and his low, animal groans.

“Namjoon—please—”

“Please what?” He slowed just enough to grind deep, rolling his hips so the head of his cock pressed hard against your wall, making you see stars. “Tell me what you need.”

You clawed at his back again, legs shaking around his waist. “Make me come... want to come on your cock... please—”

He snarled, snapped his hips faster, fingers working your clit in tight, ruthless circles. “Gonna give you everything,” he promised, voice cracking. “Gonna fill this pussy up so good you’ll feel me for days. Every time you move tomorrow you’ll remember who you belong to.”

The pressure coiled viciously tight, your walls fluttering around him.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, dark and filthy. “Squeeze me... fuck... milk my cock, baby, show me how much you love this—”

His fingers pressed harder, rubbing side-to-side now, fast and perfect, and you shattered.

The orgasm hit you sooner than earlier, ripping a scream from your throat as you clenched around him, vision whiting out.

He followed seconds later, burying his face in your neck, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you with a broken groan of your name.

You stayed locked together, shaking, sweat-slick, his cock still twitching deep inside you, your legs trembling around his waist.

After a long moment he lifted his head, eyes soft now, almost scared.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, thumb brushing your cheek. “I lost it. Did I hurt you?”

You laughed, breathless and wrecked. “You better do that again in approximately five minutes.”

Relief flooded his face.

He kissed you slow this time, tender, like he was memorising the taste. “Bedroom,” he murmured against your lips. “Now. I’m nowhere near done proving how much I love you.”

He carried you there without pulling out, your bodies still joined, and kicked the door shut behind you.

Neither of you slept that night.

The gala felt unreal.

It was Namjoon’s first major campaign event after your graduation, and he stood in the centre of the room in the deep wine-coloured suit you had made with your own hands. The silk lapels caught the light every time he moved.

He looked powerful. He looked calm.

He looked like the future of the city.

And he looked like yours.

You stood half a step behind him in your backless blood red dress, silk flowing around your legs like spilled wine. The diamond choker around your throat glimmered with each breath.

Namjoon had clasped it himself before you left, his fingers warm on your skin, his lips brushing the nape of your neck as he whispered, “Perfect.”

You had felt warm and proud and so unbelievably happy.

Until she arrived.

Councilwoman Lee Soojin.

Young. Elegant. Confident. And very aware of her beauty.

She moved through the crowd like she owned the floor, eyes locked on Namjoon before she even reached him.

“Mayor-to-be,” she said in a silky voice, placing her hand on his forearm like it was a habit. “You absolutely must tell me who designed this suit. It should be illegal to look this good.”

Her fingers travelled along the lapel, far too close to his throat.

You felt heat rise in your chest.

Namjoon stiffened almost instantly. His smile froze into something polite and cold.

“My wife designed it,” he said, turning slightly so he could gesture toward you. He said it calmly, proudly, like there was never any question.

Soojin’s gaze flicked to you... one quick, dismissive glance, before she turned back to him as if you were decoration.

“Well,” she said with a soft laugh, “she must have measured every inch of you very carefully. It fits you perfectly.”

Your hand tightened around your champagne flute.

Namjoon’s jaw tightened in the way you knew meant he was seconds from snapping.

You stepped forward before he could.

“Every inch,” you said sweetly, letting your voice glide like honey over steel. “Twice, actually.”

Soojin blinked, startled.

You slid your arm through Namjoon’s, pressing your palm firmly against his chest. “Enjoy your evening, Councilwoman.”

She stepped back. Her smile finally cracked.

He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. But his heart was slamming against your palm like a drum.

He stayed silent the entire walk to the car.

The drive through Gangnam was a slow burn.

Neon lights flashed across the windshield, slicing across the tense air between you. The city looked alive outside, but inside the car everything was quiet and heavy.

Namjoon drove himself tonight.

No driver. No witnesses. No escape.

You sat with your arms crossed, face turned toward the window, trying not to show how furious and jealous and stupidly, painfully in love you felt.

He kept glancing at you.

Once. Twice. Every few seconds.

“Baby—” he tried.

“Don’t,” you said sharply.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking wrecked. “I didn’t like how her hand...”

“I said don’t.”

Your cheeks were flushed, chest rising and falling, your lipstick bitten off from how hard your teeth dug into your lip.

And Namjoon?

He looked like he was seconds away from either apologising or pulling over and kissing the breath out of you.

At the next red light, he reached over... slowly, as if not to startle you. His hand brushed the seatbelt strap across your chest… sliding down to adjust it.

Completely innocent. Until it wasn’t.

His knuckles grazed the soft swell of your breast. His hand paused.

Your breath caught.

His fingers stayed there—just barely—but enough to make your entire body tighten.

“Namjoon,” you warned, voice low, trembling.

He didn’t respond. Didn’t move his hand. Didn’t even blink.

Green light.

He jerked his hand back and accelerated, jaw clenched so tight you could see the strain in his neck.

Next red light.

You unbuckled your seatbelt.

His head whipped toward you instantly. “Baby… what are you—”

You didn’t wait.

You climbed onto his lap in one smooth, furious motion. Silk sliding, your dress riding up, knees pressing into the narrow space between the seat and the console.

His hands snapped to your waist on instinct, eyes wide, breath gone.

“Drive,” you ordered when lights turned green, voice shaking with possessiveness, like you ruled the whole damn city.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. His body reacted before his mind did, hardening against you inside his suit pants.

“B-Baby…” he breathed.

You rolled your hips once—a slow, deliberate grind that made him choke.

His head fell back against the seat with a thud. “F-Fuck...”

“You’re mine,” you whispered, lips brushing his ear. “How dare she flirt with you? No one touches you. No one leans in like that. No one puts their hands on what belongs to me.”

You bit his earlobe... hard enough to make his breath shatter. He jolted, hips bucking up helplessly.

“Say it,” you demanded softly. “Say you’re mine.”

His answer came without hesitation, voice raw.

“I’m yours... Babe,” he rasped. “Only yours. Always. I swear... no one else even exists to me.”

You started grinding.

Slow, deliberate, filthy circles that dragged the soaked lace of your panties over the thick line straining his trousers.

The friction was perfect, maddening, every roll of your hips grinding your clit against the rigid line of him until your breath came in sharp little gasps.

Namjoon’s head fell back against the headrest with a thud, throat bared, Adam’s apple working as a broken sound tore out of him, half groan, half prayer.

“Fuck… just like that,” he rasped, voice shredded.

“Keep moving on me, baby. Make me feel who I belong to.”

You leaned in, lips brushing the frantic pulse hammering under his jaw. “Gonna leave marks,” you whispered, tongue flicking out to taste the salt on his skin. “So tomorrow, when she sees you again, she’ll see my marks all over you.”

His answering growl was feral. “Do it. Mark me so deep I feel you for days. Want the whole fucking world to know I’m taken.”

You didn’t hesitate.

You latched onto the spot just below his ear, sucked hard, teeth scraping, tongue soothing the sting.

Then lower, yanked his collar aside with impatient fingers, buttons straining, and sealed your mouth over his pulse. You sucked until you felt the skin give, until the hickey swelled hot and purple under your tongue.

His cock jerked against your clit, a fresh flood of wetness soaking through your panties onto his trousers.

You pulled back just enough to admire your work, lips swollen, eyes glittering. “Sensitive here, husband?” you purred, tracing the fresh bruise with your thumb.

He laughed, breathless, wrecked. “Only when it’s you.”

You rewarded him by grinding down in one slow, torturous circle, dragging the lace seam right over the head of his cock. His hips snapped up to meet you, chasing the pressure.

“Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth. “You’re soaked. I can feel you through my suit. Gonna ruin these trousers, baby?”

“Good... I can design 10 more,” you whispered, nails raking down his chest, catching on the buttons.

His hands slid from your hips to your ass, fingers digging in, spreading you wider so you could feel every inch of him.

“Take whatever you want,” he said, voice raw and desperate. “Use me. I’m yours, every part of me, fucking take it.”

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He jerked the wheel, turned into a narrow service alley behind closed boutiques, cut the engine.

City sounds disappeared.

Only your breathing and the soft tick of cooling metal. He stared at you... eyes black, chest heaving. You didn’t wait.

You finally attacked his mouth, teeth scraping, tongue sliding deep, pure, feral possession. He met you with the same violence, one hand fisting your hair, the other already shoving under the silk of your dress, fingers sinking into the bare skin of your thigh.

“Fuck,” he snarled against your lips, “do it. Take me. Right here.”

Your hands dropped to his belt... metal clinking, leather whipping free. You tore the zipper down, reached inside, wrapped your fingers around him.

He was scorching.

Thick, pulsing, slick with precum that smeared over your palm as you pulled him free.

“F-Fuck—” His head slammed back against the headrest.

“Look at you,” you whispered, stroking once, slow and firm, thumb circling the wet tip.

“So fucking hard for your wife.” You leaned in, voice poison-sweet. “Did you like her fingers on your arm, Namjoon? Did it feel good when she laughed while standing too close?”

“No,” he growled, hips already fucking into your fist, frantic. “Only want you. Only ever you. Swear to God...”

You squeezed, just hard enough to make him choke on the words.

“Then prove it.”

You shifted, shoved the soaked lace of your panties aside with trembling fingers, and lined him up.

Just the head. One cruel inch.

You sank down.

His groan was guttural, broken, hands flying to your hips like he was trying to stop himself from slamming you down the rest of the way.

“Wait... fuck... baby—”

You didn’t wait.

You took him in one slow, relentless glide until he was buried to the root, stretching you open, filling you so perfectly your vision blurred.

“Holy shit...” His voice cracked. “So tight... so fucking perfect—”

You rolled your hips once, slow and deep, clit grinding against the base of him.

“Mine,” you breathed against his mouth, starting to ride him in deliberate, punishing strokes. Every downward slide took him to the hilt... every upward drag tore a curse from his throat. “This cock is mine. This body is mine. These sounds—”

“Yours,” he panted, fingers bruising your ass as he guided you harder, faster. “All yours... fuck... take it, take everything—”

You found the angle that made you see stars and ground down, circling, owning.

He lost it.

One hand shot up, fisted the front of your dress, and ripped.

Silk tore with a sharp, satisfying sound. Cool air hit your skin and then his mouth was on your breast, hot and wet, sucking your nipple hard enough to make you cry out.

“N-Namjoon—Yes... Fuck!”

He growled around the sensitive peak, teeth grazing, tongue flicking, while his hips snapped up to meet every roll of yours. The car rocked violently, windows completely fogged.

“Say it again,” he rasped, switching to the other breast, leaving it swollen and shining. “Tell me who I belong to.”

“You’re mine,” you moaned, nails raking down his scalp, holding him to your chest. “Only mine. No one else gets this—no one else gets to hear you fall apart...”

He released your nipple with a wet pop, head falling back, throat exposed, sweat glistening in the hollow of his collarbone.

“Never,” he swore, voice shredded. “Never wanted anyone the way I want you. Fuck... look at me.”

You did.

His eyes were wild, wrecked, completely gone for you.

“I love you,” he said, raw and desperate, hips still driving up into you. “Love you so much it fucking hurts. Want you on me, in me, around me.. always—”

The words snapped the last thread of your control.

You slammed down hard, grinding in tight circles, clit dragging against him with every thrust. The pleasure coiled vicious and bright.

“Come inside me,” you ordered, voice trembling on the edge. “Right now. Want to feel you lose it while I’m wrapped around you.”

He groaned your name, hands forcing you down one final time as he erupted... hot, thick pulses flooding you, cock jerking deep inside as he came apart with a broken groan.

The feeling of him spilling pushed you over.

You shattered, walls clamping down, milking him through it, your own release crashing so hard your vision whited out.

The car was a haze of sex and shattered breathing.

You collapsed against his chest, both of you breathing hard, your heartbeats thumping in the same fast rhythm. His arms wrapped around you instantly, strong and warm, like he wanted to keep you pressed to him forever.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, kissing the warm skin there, brushing your lips over the marks you’d left in the heat of the moment. Your voice came out softer now, almost tender.

“No one touches you like that,” you whispered. “No one gets you like that. Only me. Understand?”

He let out a weak laugh... the kind that sounded breathless and almost shy, but so, so happy. “Understood, Mrs. Kim,” he murmured, and you felt his smile against your hair.

His fingers slid slowly down your spine, not rushing, just tracing you like he was memorizing every inch.

Then his lips brushed the top of your head.

“I love it when you’re jealous,” he confessed quietly. “I love knowing you want me just as much as I want you. It… does something to me.”

Your lips curved into a smile against his skin.

“Then get used to it,” you said softly.

He tipped your chin up with two fingers, guiding your face to his. His kiss was slow this time.... deep, sweet, almost fragile.

Like he was pouring his whole heart into it.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“Good,” he said softly. “Because I’ve been yours since the day you spilled acrylic paint on my shoes at sixteen just to get my attention.”

You froze.

Your mouth slowly opened.

“You… you knew I did that on purpose?”

He smiled—the soft, shy kind he never showed anyone else. “Baby… you looked up at me like I hung the moon. How could I not know?”

Your chest tightened, emotion swelling painfully.

After several long minutes of quiet breathing and soft touches, he whispered, “Stay still.”

You blinked up at him. “Why?”

He shrugged out of his blazer and wrapped it around you carefully, covering the torn front of your dress with slow, protective hands.

“Let’s go home,” he said gently, touching your cheek with the back of his hand.

And as he pulled the car back onto the road, both of you wrapped in each other’s warmth and outside, Seoul kept passing by in streaks of neon and streetlight.

Sunlight spilled gold across the sheets.

You were tangled in Namjoon’s arms, face buried in his neck, one of your legs thrown over his hip, his hand resting possessively on the curve of your ass like it belonged there... because it did.

He stirred first, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Baby,” he whispered, voice gravel-rough from sleep. “I have to get up. Assembly budget meeting at nine.”

You made a small, wounded sound and tightened your arms around his neck. “No. Stay… I wish we could stay like this the whole day.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest into yours. “You know we can’t. I have a meeting at the assembly…”

You nuzzled closer, lips brushing his throat. “Mhmm… just five minutes…”

He didn’t argue. He never could when you asked like that. Instead he rolled you both so you were fully on top of him, your hair spilling over his shoulders like silk.

His palms slid up your bare back, tracing lazy circles.

“Why so clingy today, Mrs. Kim?” he murmured, thumb brushing your spine. “What’s going on in that pretty head?”

You hesitated for too long.

He noticed instantly. His fingers stilled. His eyes searched your face.

“What happened?”

You lifted your head, biting your lip.

“I got the letter yesterday,” you whispered. “The internship… in Paris. Starting next week.”

The room went perfectly still. His arms locked around you tightly. “How long?” he asked, voice suddenly careful.

“Three months.”

He exhaled, long and slow, and stared at the ceiling.

You felt his heart hammer against your chest. Then, without a word, he reached for his phone on the nightstand. You watched, confused, as he dialled.

You blinked. “Joon… what are you doing?”

“Calling in sick,” he said simply, already dialling.

Your mouth fell open. “What?! You never call in sick... Wait... Stop—”

“Hyung,” he said into the phone the moment it was answered, “I’m not coming in. Fever. Cancel the meetings, reschedule everything. All of it. I’ll update you tomorrow.”

He hung up.

You stared at him. “You actually did that?”

He tossed the phone aside like it meant nothing and flipped you beneath him in one smooth, warm, authoritative motion.

His body hovered over yours. “Of course I did.”

“I can’t stop you from going,” he said, voice low, serious. “And I won’t. I told you the day we got married... I never want you as a trophy wife. I want you chasing every dream you have, even if it takes you across the world.”

He brushed your hair back, eyes fierce.

“But the next three months are going to be hell for me. Campaign, debates, polls… and you won’t be here. So today...” he kissed your forehead, your nose, your lips, “...today is ours. I’m not letting anyone else take a single second from us.”

You laughed through the sudden tears. “You really want me to go?”

He smiled... small, pained, proud.

“I’m proud of you,” he said fiercely.

“I want you to fly. And when you come back, I’ll be waiting exactly like this. Besides... his grin turned wicked, “...I’m going to wear the suits you designed for every single campaign stop. They’re my lucky charm and I'll feel you close.”

You leaned up and kissed him softly.

He kissed back slowly, deeply… then broke away to stare at you with an expression you’d never seen before.

“Can I tell you something? The things you never knew... The things that I kept hidden for so long under my cold personality.” he whispered.

You nodded.

He exhaled shakily. “I wanted to kiss you senseless years ago.”

Your brows furrowed. “When?”

His eyes softened as memory pulled at him. “That day you came to the banquet wearing that yellow sundress. You remember? You came to me and praised me for my speech…”

He shook his head, almost embarrassed. “You looked so bright I swear it hurt to look at you. All I could think was... if I kiss her right now, I won’t stop.”

Your heart thudded. “Namjoon…”

“And the library,” he continued, voice getting lower, warmer. “When you reached for the pen and your fingers brushed mine… later you walked away like nothing happened.”

You blinked. “But back then... I thought you were not into me—”

“No... that's not true.” he said. “I stared at my hand the entire damn night like a teenager. I didn’t sleep. I kept touching the spot where your fingers brushed.”

Your breath hitched.

He wasn’t done.

“And at my father’s funeral…” His voice cracked—the memory still sharp. “I saw you standing with that candy.”

You swallowed. “I... I wanted to hug you. But there were reporters and people—”

He shook his head. “Baby… I wanted to walk straight to you. Fall on my knees. Put my head in your lap and cry like a child. You were the only person I wanted that day.”

Your chest tightened with something fierce and tender.

“Joon… I promise... You will always have me by your side.”

You lifted your arms around his neck and pulled him down until your foreheads touched again.

“I love you,” you whispered.

His smile was pure devotion. “I love you more. Now come here...” He slid his hands down your sides, gripping your hips.

“...we have only one day to make up for ninety nights.”

Three Months Later... Jamsil Stadium.

Forty thousand people... Cameras everywhere... Screens lit up with Namjoon’s face. He stood at the podium, looking powerful, calm, every inch the man Seoul had placed its faith in.

“And together...” he said, voice rolling through the speakers like thunder, “...we will build a Seoul where—”

His breath caught.

Because he saw you.

You’d just arrived from Paris, suitcase still in the car, still wearing the cream coat you’d left in. Your hair was a little longer now, your eyes a little tired but glowing, and you stood at the very back of the VIP section.

His mouth opened, but no words came out.

The crowd went silent, confused.

Then he smiled. That helpless, warm, completely ruined by you smile. He cleared his throat, trying to recover.

His voice softened as he continued, almost trembling... “…a Seoul where every dream...” His eyes stayed on you. “...no matter how far it takes you… always finds its way home.”

He drew a steady breath and continued, voice rising with purpose— “A Seoul where every citizen has the chance to work with dignity, where passion and opportunity isn’t a privilege but a right, and where our growth is shared... not by a few, but by all.”

The crowd roared, moved by the promise. People didn’t know why the line hit so hard.

But you did. And he did.

The stadium erupted, forty thousand people screaming his name. He won by a landslide. But the only victory that mattered walked back into his life was wearing a cream coat and tired eyes.

That night, you barely stepped inside before the door of penthouse slammed shut behind you. Namjoon grabbed your face and kissed you so desperately it knocked the breath out of you... like he’d been starving for three months straight.

Your coat slipped off your shoulders and hit the floor.

You were laughing, breathing his name, tears slipping down your cheeks because you’d missed him so much it hurt.

His hands slid into your hair, gripping gently.

“God,” he breathed against your lips, “you’re really here. You’re really—”

You cupped his cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tear he tried to hide. “Of course I’m here,” you whispered. “Where else would I go?”

You kissed him again, harder. He broke into a messy laugh that almost sounded like a sob.

“You have no idea,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours, “how many nights I imagined this.” His mouth found your neck, your jaw, your lips again.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered, voice shaking.

He didn’t answer.

He just lifted you... effortlessly, and carried you down the hallway, kissing you the whole way like he was making up for every day you were gone.

He laid you on the bed with a tenderness that made your chest ache. Then he crawled over you, suit jacket already on the floor, shirt half-open, tie loose around his neck.

He cupped your face with both hands.

“You showed up,” he said softly, breath uneven. “You came back to me.”

“I’ll always come back to you,” you whispered, fingers brushing his cheeks. “You’re my home, Joon.”

His eyes went glossy. “Baby…”

His voice broke. “I thought I’d be strong... you know? If I keep myself busy with all these elections stuff, I thought I’d be fine while you were gone. But every night, I… damn, I missed you so much it hurt.”

You pulled him closer, your hands sliding into his hair. “I missed you too.”

He kissed you... slow, deep, like he was memorizing you all over again. When he finally pulled back, he hovered above you, chest rising fast.

“You’re the only person,” he said, touching your lips with his thumb, “who keeps me sane… but also makes me completely fucking insane at the same time.”

You laughed softly, eyes wet.

“Good,” you whispered. “Because I’m going to keep doing that for the rest of our lives.”

His smile... your favorite dimple smile... spread slowly, beautifully. “Promise?”

You hooked your finger around the front of his shirt and tugged him down until his weight settled on you just right, warm and solid and his. “Promise.”

He exhaled like you’d just given him air after months of living underwater.

Outside, the city celebrated its new mayor.

Inside the penthouse, the man himself only cared about the woman beneath him.

And somewhere between the city lights and the sound of his name on your lips, Seoul crowned its new king and queen.

Obsessed. In love. Unbreakable.

A/n: First of all… my brain was short-circuiting whole time while writing this story. Because let’s be honest... Namjoon as a political leader? We all know that man would look unfairly hot standing behind a podium, sleeves rolled up, addressing nation in his deep voice.

And the driving part? Yeah... well... I know, he doesn’t have a license in reality… but if he did? Lord have mercy on me.

Because the thought of him driving... One hand gripping the steering wheel… The other resting on your thigh… Eyes focused on the road with his clenched jaw... Ahhhhhhhh.... He’d look as dangerously sexy driving a car as he looks driving all of us abso-fucking-lutely insane.

Taglist: @3racha-agustd . @jeonjamiekim . @jinnieminie  . @minpdrecs . @this-most-assuredly-counts . @taolucha . @mytaegiheart . @dear-mono . @lilyficrec . @janeluvwonuuuu . @k-fan-fics . @iztrouble . @pikajooni . @namluvili . @alonahh . @paradise172 . @stay-tiny-things . @micdropitlikeitshot . @softhaes . @littlebluhellfire . @niqueesthings . @nocturnalsingularity . @syudoeslove . @namjoonbaby17-blog . @mar-lo-pap . @naesarang07 . @diame93 . @themwordsblog . @crizoosblog . @bts-fic-recs-mess . @nocturnalsingularity . @ninisficrecs . @lovingkoalaface . @afgbbf . @hiilovetata . @namjooniverse . @petersasteria. @orionsworld420. @amarawayne . @unknownbeknowst

[dontworrymochi]

i cried tears of joy while drawing this, future's truly gonna be ok ♥ i love him so much!

[ktownshizzle]

Pigments & Playlists | myg

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader ✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: Between makeup and music, you find the one person worth blurring the lines for. ✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: coworkers to lovers, idol au, older woman (by a few years), fluff, smut ✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings:  Undercut Yoongi! Undercut! Him being such an attentive thoughtful king, nothing major i think this is a pretty light read, cursing, jk being the annoying younger brother type, lots of makeup brands and seventeen references, MC has thirsty thots for yoongi but who can blame her, part two is where we will have the action (trust) but savor the cuteness of part one for now ✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 5.6k ✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: June 8, 2025 ✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Hello! I have been talking about this makeup noona fic for a while and it’s here. This is a two-shot (don’t y’all make me make it a series!) Thank you so much @tea4sykes for betareading.

Part Two | Yoongi Masterlist

You drag your Züca makeup trolley behind you, wheels gliding against the marble floors. Your phone is tucked between your ear and shoulder as you walk, eyes scanning for a sign, the one marking the next chapter of your career.

Wonwoo’s voice crackles in your ear.

“I’m gonna be fine… No, I’m not gonna have a new favorite… That’s impossible… Just focus on your training, okay?... Seriously? Bye, Wonwoo.”

You sigh, tap the end button, and slide your phone into your back pocket.

Ah, so this is what the 21st floor looks like.

The floor dedicated to the men who built the HYBE building from the ground up.

You laugh to yourself. Does this mean you made it, too? It kinda does, doesn’t it? 15 years doing makeup, five years with Seventeen. Specifically: Seungcheol’s unruly brows, Mingyu’s overzealous sweat glands, and Wonwoo’s refusal to exfoliate. You weren’t just part of the team—you were theirs. The noona they teased mercilessly, trusted absolutely, and sometimes trauma-bonded backstage while waiting for hair dryers to cool.

Now you’re here. Reassigned. Promoted, actually. You’re now the lead makeup artist of Bangtan Sonyeondan, with eight makeup artists and hair stylists in your team. The mission? Make BTS the prettiest fuckin’ boys in all of history. Maybe even prettier than Seventeen? Fat chance. You’re too biased with Sebong.

At the end of the hallway, you spot the door marked:   BTS.   Authorized Personnel Only.   No Cameras. 

And for you, there’s No Turning Back.

You take a breath. Pull your kit and push forward.

No one notices you at first. That’s fine. That’s how you like it. You don’t want to feel like the new kid, all awkward smiles and intros.

You set your kit down by the makeup mirrors and start laying out your brushes. Foundation. Concealer. Lip tints. Focus. Routine.

“Y/N-noona?”

Seokjin. The only one you’ve met before. He had a style consultation for his MV and you were basically asked to lead it as a sort of audition to this new role that you were considered for.

You spent hours scouring the internet for reference pics. But for you his visual was very straightforward. Matinee idol. Heart-achingly handsome, but still kinda attainable, if that even made sense. Full lips–you’re going to be playing this up as the focal point. Maybe dried fig or muted berry for pigment, just the lightest touch. He’s got thick, fluffy natural hair that you’ll need to tame with some lightweight products to push it back to a clean, slick leading man vibe.

“I don’t need botox anymore,” was what he famously said after an hour under your skillful hands. And the rest is history.

“Hello, Seokjin,” you nod.

“Have you met the rest of the members?”

“Haven’t had the pleasure.”

“It’s fine, they’re not important.”

“Yah!” Jimin shouts without looking, obviously eavesdropping. “Don’t talk shit about us, hyung. Hi, Y/N-noona.”

Jungkook glances up and strolls over, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Noona, I’m Jungkook. Wait—ohhhh. You’re Seventeen’s makeup noona?”

“You make it sound like I’m their property, but… yeah. Now yours, though.”

He giggles, bunny teeth on full display. “Mingyu’s like, in love with you.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking. Probably. Maybe. You don’t know.

“I should text him,” Jungkook adds, already reaching for his phone, laughing.

Your cheeks go warm immediately. Good thing you already wore blush—at least it hides some of the embarrassment burning through you.

Before you can figure out how to respond, one of the senior hair stylists calls your name from the next room.

Saved by the bell.

You mutter a quick excuse and step away, heart doing something it definitely shouldn’t be doing around these fine men you didn’t expect to affect you this much.

You pull up the sleeves of your black blazer, checking your makeup station one last time. You just finished your pre-production meeting  with your team, going through today’s run of show and the shoot concept one last time before it begins.

The pegs are taped up on one of the walls, one for each member. You’re confident you can pull this off–you cannot not. It’s your first damn day and you sure as hell want to prove your worth.

Thankfully, your team is not all new. Half of them have been with BTS for years, while the other half are just like you, reassigned, when a few of the long-standing makeup noonas stepped away—schedule conflicts, burnout, one just had a baby. So naturally, BTS’s glam rotation shifted. Jungkook, Jimin, and Yoongi needed new regular artists.

Your right hand woman and the most senior from the tenured makeup girls, Hyein suggested you take him. “He’s not high maintenance. Just likes it quick and consistent.” And since working on him might be quicker than the rest, you will always have time to do quick checks with your junior members.

That’s how you ended up with Yoongi.

And truthfully? You are kind of glad.

You’ve always thought his face was interesting. Not just in a “he photographs well” way. Because most of them do. But there’s something in his bone structure that keeps your eyes coming back. Sharp where you don’t expect. Soft in places that should be angular.

You spend some time studying his features through online references, as you have done with Jin, and as you always do with new artists you handle.

His eyes are slightly mismatched. One double lid, one monolid. Not obvious. It gives him this quiet asymmetry and you already plan to adjust his liner differently every time, because you want to work with it, not against it.

His skin is bright, borderline unfair. “Brighter than your future” as one Tiktok said. He has a few scattered freckles that only show up in certain light. 

Two scars on his forehead near his left brow and one just north of it, then there’s another tucked under his right eye. You don’t intend to cover them up unless he tells you to. If anything, you think this makes him look a little badass. Seems like that’s the persona he’s going for anyway.

His lips are a soft kind of full—not pouty, but plush. Tinted naturally pink like he’s always just bitten them. Shame how in older photos, his top lip shape seems to be blurred with concealer. None of that now that you’re in charge.

And then there’s his hair. Always changing. Sometimes blonde, once ginger, sometimes brown red, once, briefly, a mint shade that made him look like a faerie. Now it’s coal black, natural. Undercut.

The first time you meet Yoongi, he bows and says exactly four words. “Welcome to the team.”

Not the warmest of welcomes, but it’s fine. You think he doesn’t say them unkindly. Maybe he’s just one of those brooding, mysterious idols. Still waters run deep or whatever.

You nod back, introduce yourself.

He eases back into his chair and closes his eyes. For the entire time.

His skin is warm under your fingers. Breath even. Doesn’t flinch when you brush under his eyes, around his cherry nose. When you’re finished, you say so. He glances at his reflection once in the mirror, moves his face left then right, then at you.

“Thank you. I like it,” he says, then walks out.

Cool.

The second time, he beats you to the glam room. He’s in the chair already, in a fuzzy yellow cardigan, hair ruffled from outside. There’s a faint sheen of sweat still drying on his temple. He gives you a tiny nod when you enter.

“Hey. How’s it going?” Four words. Same as last time.

“I’m well,” you respond as you unzip your brush case and start setting up. 

Once you’re done, you pull out a portable bluetooth speaker from the bottom of your trunk. 

“Do you mind music?” you ask Yoongi, who’s busy with his phone.

He shakes his head. “Play what you want.”

You power up your speaker, scroll through your playlist, and hit shuffle to an old 2000s playlist–the music of your youth.

Midway through, you hear a faint sound. And as you push the silicone applicator to his lips, you feel the gentle vibration as he hums along to the second verse of “Iris” by the Goo Goo Dolls.

You don’t comment, but for some reason, this realization makes you happy. The chorus swells.

The next time you meet, he asks to pick the music. You don’t mind. In fact you’re curious what some acclaimed musical genius like him would listen to.

“Want my speaker?”

He shrugs.

You hand it over.

He scrolls for less than ten seconds before music clicks on.

Is that Ring Ding Ding?

You both pause. Look at each other. Then laugh.

“Respect,” you murmur, hiding your smile. 

“It’s a classic,” he says, solemn as a priest.

After that, you start talking. Just… little things. Safe things.

Mostly about music.

You find out he’s got strong opinions about snare sounds in 90s R&B. He then shifts the playlist to that.

He tells you about working with Tablo and and you don’t know how bright you’re lighting up until he teases you, “want me to get you an autograph or something?” You admit you’ve had a crush on him for years. “Like what do you mean he’s ivy league smart and hella goofy, too?”

Then, you tell him about your teenage boy band phase (it’s not just Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC, you were even into the more obscure ones from the UK). You also admit you mourned for Aaliyah and Left Eye.

He confesses he went through an intense BoA obsession and that he may still be in love with her—even tried to copy her hair for one of his concerts.

Things escalate when you both try to rap the second verse of “Nice & Slow.” You fumble spelling U-S-H-E-R five seconds in, and it all goes downhill from there.

“It’s the H!” he hoots. “He says it differently.” You realize he is right. Koreans have that extra syllable.

Somehow, between blending pigments and sharing playlists, something opens up between you.

It’s not fast. It’s not grand. But it’s happening.

One morning, your playlist shuffles itself into an old ache:  “Don’t Wanna Cry” by Seventeen. You freeze only for a second, at Wonwoo’s ulgo ship ji ana, but Yoongi notices.

You try to focus on the foundation you’re patting onto his cheek, but something twists in your chest.

“Missing your old team?” Yoongi asks.

“They’re my boys,” you say, kind of offhand. Kind of not.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, but you feel his eyes on you through the mirror. He doesn't look annoyed or anything. Just still. Like he’s filing the words somewhere he’ll come back to later and you’re not sure why that makes your throat feel tight.

He’s good at silence, Yoongi. Knows when not to push. But the space he leaves is always heavy. You don’t know what to do with it.

But Jungkook does.

The maknae is sitting in the next chair over, scrolling on his phone, waiting for his makeup artist. At the mention of Seventeen, he perks up instantly, like a dog hearing a treat bag.

“Tell me something Mingyu can do better than me,” he challenges.

You blink at him. “Excuse me?”

“Noona.” He throws in a dramatic sigh. “Be honest.”

You have no idea why Jungkook wants to make this a 1 v 1 showdown between him and Gyu, but you’ll play along. It’s cute.

You glance at Yoongi again. He’s looking down now, pretending he’s not listening as he scrolls his phone, but the corner of his mouth is doing that twitchy thing that says otherwise.

You smirk. “I mean… I liked both your Calvin Klein campaigns.”

Jungkook puts his phone down slowly, like he’s processing emotions. “He only got that gig after I enlisted.”

“He still looked good though,” you sing-song.

“I—wow.” He shakes his head. “You really gonna do me like this in front of hyung?”

You hold up a hand. “Didn’t say he was better.”

“But you implied it,” Jungkook fires back, boba eyes bulging out of its sockets. “What else?”

“I mean, Mingyu is pretty good in the kitchen.”

That does it.

“No way,” Jungkook says, leaning forward like he’s about to attack. “Now I have to invite you over. I’m making dinner. Full spread. Five courses. Hyung can come, too.”

Yoongi doesn’t look up. “Don’t drag me into your ego crisis.”

“I’m including you out of respect,” Jungkook grumbles. “And as the primary witness to this… whatever shit this is.”

You shrug. “A free meal’s a free meal.”

“I’m gonna blow your mind, noona.” He sinks back in his chair with a groan. “Fuckin’ Mingyu…”

You laugh, then glance at Yoongi again. He’s finally looking at you, quiet but engaged. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something just a little tighter around his eyes.

So, you’ve assimilated with the team well enough. Jin greets you with food. Tae compliments your hair quite frequently, offered to braid it once. Jimin tries to read your texts over your shoulder.

You laugh with them. You start to care for them. But you’ve become especially fond of Yoongi.

Maybe it’s the way he watches without crowding. Maybe it’s how he listens so carefully when you talk about songs you love. Maybe it’s the way he only speaks when he has something real to say.

Unlike the maknaes, you won’t see him bouncing off the walls. He doesn’t demand attention. But he holds it anyway.

And lately, you’ve started wondering what it would feel like to hold his.

You were about to grab coffee when some delivery guy arrives with a monstrous amount of packages. Laura Mercier. MAC. Make Up For Ever. Jung Saem Mool.

It’s a ridiculous haul—glass bottles clinking, compacts stacked like poker chips, a forest of lip tints and pencils all jammed into branded boxes. The Beauty Boondocks. Guess this is part of your life now and you’re loving it.

Working with the biggest group in the world means this. A constant courtship by brands desperate for one sliver of the BTS glow. One backstage photo of Taehyung swiping lip balm on, or Jungkook half-blurred with a concealer palette in the background, and that’s a million views and sold-out SKUs easy.

You’re on the floor of the glam room, crouched between piles of cardboard, trying to sort products by category and fighting the growing sense that you’ve just been buried alive by luxury capitalism.

Suddenly, Yoongi walks in, he pauses just beside the door.

“Wow,” he says. “This is what Jungkookie’s house looks like the day after he gets a free night.”

You look up, a brow arching. “Online shopping problem?”

“Massive,” he replies dryly, stepping over a few boxes. “Once he ordered five different bed mattresses.”

You’re a bit stunned. Partly because you did not expect anyone to show up, much less Yoongi. Secondly, Jungkook’s house must be huuuge?

“He does not have 5 bedrooms if that’s what you’re thinking. There was one in his living room for a while…”

Yoongi crouches beside one of the larger boxes, tilting his head to read the logo printed on the side.

“So what’s all this?”

“Makeup, hair products, tools, etcetera…” You gesture vaguely, hands full of crinkle paper and unopened mascara tubes. “Brand offerings. Welcome to the chaos. No thanks to you guys.”

He glances around, taking it in. “Why are you doing this alone?”

“Sera called in sick. Hyein’s sorting more stuff in another room. The rest are on a day off or are in Hobi’s LV shoot. Though honestly, nobody told me about this shipment.”

You expect him to leave it at that. But instead, he lowers himself to the floor, his long legs under him, and grabs a box cutter from a nearby table.

Wordlessly, he drags a new box closer, slices through the tape with smooth precision.

You blink. “What’re you doing?”

He doesn’t look up. “Trying to be useful to my noona.”

Wait.

My noona. My noona?!

It’s playful. Casual. Probably harmless. But something about the way he says it—low and almost offhand, like it comes naturally—snags in your chest. You’re crazy for thinking that it actually means anything else, but you can’t help consider it.

You don’t answer right away. You just stare at him like he’s an illusion: pale hoodie sleeves shoved up to the elbows, veins flexing against cardboard, hair fluffy and soft, devoid of any product.

He glances at you sideways. Sees the look on your face. Smirks. “What?”

“I’m just not used to idols volunteering to help unpack foundation samples,” you say, lips twitching, as you hold up a few NARS bottles and place them on the table.

“That’s because your boys aren’t me.”

Woah. Shots fired at Seventeen and you’re too stunned to speak. Plus, the way his eyes flick back to yours as he says it—yeah, he knows exactly what he’s implying.

Your heart thuds once in response and it’s deafening.

You return to your pile, doing your best to focus. “Well. If you’re going to help, I hope you’re not colorblind.”

“Am I getting judged?”

“Harshly.”

He chuckles.

Not a minute later he is already complaining why there are 30 different shades of pink. 

It’s late.

Rehearsals ran over, and most of the team’s already scattered. The greenroom is dim, half the lights shut off, stage outfits draped over chairs. Someone left a half-eaten protein bar on the counter. (It was Jimin.) You’re too tired to throw it out.

Yoongi’s the last one to be touched up before a promo shoot he’s doing solo. Naturally, you’re also the last one still working. You let the rest of your team pack up after their member completes their segments.

Yoongi sits in the chair wordlessly. You flick on the ring light and squint at him.

“You look exhausted,” you murmur, brushing a warm palm across his cheek to feel the texture.

He shrugs. “You look worse.”

Wha—?

“Gee. Thanks.” You crack a smile. “Asshole.” You say with no real bite.

You work in silence for a minute. You spray a serum over his face, get it to calm and cool. His skin is a bit warm, a little flushed from movement. 

Looking away, you stifle a yawn, lift your glasses and rub at your eye with your knuckle.

“You sleep at all these days?” he asks suddenly.

Your fingers start massaging the serum near his cheek and decide to tease him a bit. “Don’t talk to me. You said I look like shit.”

He smirks, but his tone is soft. “That’s not what I said.”

“I get some in,” you say lightly. “Here and there.”

He hums. Doesn’t press. But something about his tone makes you keep going.

“I wake up a lot,” you admit. “Not always bad dreams. Just… waking. Like something kicks me from inside.”

“Been happening long?”

You shrug like it’s nothing. 

“A while,” you say. “Started around the time…” you pause, study him. His eyes are so kind, the kind you’ll want to spill all your secrets to. “My previous relationship ended.”

He looks at you in the mirror. You glance down, blending gently near the corner of his eye.

“It’s stupid,” you murmur. “It’s not like I miss him. I just… guess my body hasn’t caught up yet.”

Yoongi stays quiet for a few breaths. “It’s not stupid.”

Your throat pulls tight, but you smile like it doesn’t matter. “Anyway. It’ll pass.”

You expect him to nod. To change the subject. You don’t expect what he says next.

“Call me.”

Your hand stills from dipping the brush on the powder pot. “What?”

He tilts his face up just enough to meet your eyes.

“When it happens,” he says. “When you wake up and it’s three or four in the morning just… call.”

You blink. Why did this feel so intimate all of a sudden?

“I’m always up anyway,” he shrugs, like it’s not a big deal, and you remember to breathe.

You search his face, looking for a joke, a smirk, anything sleazy, even. There’s really none. Just sincerity. Like he knows what you’re going through and wants to share your load.

“Okay,” you say quietly, willing your heart to stop pounding so loud.

He holds his palm out. You’re dumbstruck for a second before he tsks and says, “phone.”

Days after, you find a curious box in your kit. Quietly tucked between your brushes.

It says: Tae Pyeong Hwan and when you input it on Naver, it’s apparently a viral anti-anxiety drink.

There wasn’t any note. No name. But you know it’s him. And you don’t know what to feel.

You take a sachet and gulp. Willing it to work before you see him again and your heart does that flip flop thing it keeps doing when he’s around.

The first time you entertain the idea that Yoongi might be interested in you, you actually laughed. It’s not even because he’s an idol, or a billionaire, or a god among men. 

You know you’re a solid 8, maybe even an 8.5 on a good hair day. You’re established enough to have your own house and car. You’ve got enough industry connections and some seed money if you decide to start your own thing. You got it goin’ awn, okay?

You’re a catch for any man, BTS member or not.

But a younger man? Really, Y/N?!

It’s not like you're breaking the law. He’s literally 32. He’s grown. (And shit, you know he’s grown after being in a backstage quick-change with him.)

Unfortunately, try as you might, the attraction has already rooted itself in your brain. 

Are you going to do anything about it? Jury’s still out. HYBE contracts have made it clear that there’ll be no inter-office dating, but does anybody really follow that shit?

Jeon Jungkook’s apartment is ridiculously nice. Like stylish-in-a-way-that-costs-a-fuckton-of-money nice. You barely have one shoe off when he’s already tugging you in with a giant bunny grin, sliding along his hardwood floors with his silly toe-socks.

“Place looks great,” you say.

“You should see the noraebang room.”

“The what now?”

There’s a woman sitting on the couch, sipping wine with her feet tucked under her. She looks up with a soft smile, and Jungkook lights up all over again.

He gestures proudly. “This is Haeun, my girlfriend.”

“Hello, unnie.” She stands to greet you, and you immediately like her. She’s model-pretty, but not in an intimidating way. Choreographer, he tells you, for a rookie girl group. You’ve never seen her around the office, then again it’s a huge building. Interesting, a case of inter-office dating under Bang Si-Hyuk’s nose.

You’re halfway through complimenting her earrings when the door bell sounds.

Yoongi walks in and you swear the temperature in the room changes.

He’s wearing a soft cashmere cardigan in a warm, oat beige. It’s a deeper neckline than what you’ve seen him wear before and, uh, it’s gotten really warm right now.

You feel blood rushing on your cheeks as you take the expanse of creamy skin on his chest. The rest of the look: Brown slacks, clean sneakers, hair barely styled but he looks stupidly good anyway. His lips, a soft sheen to it, looks like a freshly swiped balm.

You know Jungkook prepped food but this is the kind of full-course meal you like… 

Yoongi pushes his shoes to the side, handing the host a bottle of wine. “Sorry, traffic.”

Jungkook claps him on the back. “Nah you’re good, hyung. You made it just in time. Noona’s here.” 

Yoongi stumbles forward with a tight-lipped grin to Jungkook’s shit-eating one. Did Jungkook just push Yoongi towards you? 

“Heeyyy,” you nod, smiling tightly.

Yoongi scratches the back of his neck, sits across you. “What time did you get here?”

“A few minutes ago.”

You glance to your side, and Haeun has vanished. You clear your throat, feeling 50 shades of awkward now that the object of your newest crush has arrived. You feel yourself blush as Yoongi unwittingly manspreads in front of you.

As you calculate ways you can potentially survive this night, Jungkook thankfully hollers from the other room, inviting the guests to settle in.

You sit at the dining table, Haeun beside Jungkook, Yoongi beside you. And it feels… a little like a double date. Is it? You don’t know. And you’re too afraid to ask. 

Yoongi pours you a glass of wine. 

The one he brought. 

The one you had mentioned once was your favorite.

Jungkook, dramatic as always, starts announcing each course like he’s hosting a cooking show.

Course one is an apple and walnut salad with this spicy-sweet sesame dressing. You take a bite and your eyes widen. “Okay, wait. This is actually good.”

Jungkook looks offended. “Rude?”

Course two is a creamy chestnut soup with bits of crispy pancetta. Haeun says she helped him chop things. You raise your glass to her.

Course three is grilled scallops with a yuzu butter glaze. Jungkook explains how long it took to get the sear right. You make appreciative noises, cos wow this shit’s actually fire. Yoongi hums in agreement.

When Jungkook and Haeun head to the kitchen to bring out the next course, Yoongi quietly plops another scallop on your plate.

You blink. “What are you doing?”

He starts drizzling it with sauce like a damn chef. 

“Serving you,” he says simply. “You seemed to like this one.”

“I did,” you say. “Shouldn’t I be doing that, though? I’m older.”

He looks at you then. Direct, but soft. Like he’s not even sure why you’re bringing up age right now, because it doesn’t matter. “I’m being a gentleman. Let me.”

You don’t know what to do with that. Where to look. How to sit still. All you can think is yeah, you’ll let him do anything to you at this point. And you’ll always say,

“Thank you.”

Course four is bulgogi tenderloin with a sweet garlicky glaze. Jungkook says the marinade was 30 hours minimum. Haeun nods like she’s heard that fact 20 times minimum. Okay, you kinda believe him because it was delectable.

Course five is a tangerine panna cotta. It wobbles beautifully. You groan after the first spoonful, and Yoongi actually reaches forward to pat his younger brother on the shoulder. It is that good.

“Okay. Fine,” you say, leaning back. “This wins.”

Jungkook beams. “Better than Mingyu?”

“Fuck Mingyu,” you lift your glass.  

“YES!!! Hear that, babe?” Jungkook yells in victory and actually picks Haeun up bridal style and spins her in a circle around the living room. She shrieks, laughing the whole time. 

You and Yoongi watch from the table, slightly tipsy and amused.

“They’re cute,” you murmur.

Yoongi smiles, eyes on them. “Yeah.”

“Seems that no one really follows that no dating rule in HYBE, no?”

“I do,” Yoongi notes with a shrug, and the high from the scrumptious dinner unceremoniously crashes. You’re suddenly uneasy, acidic.

“Ah,” you nod, picking up your wine glass and downing the last of it in one big gulp to push the lump in your throat. 

Play it cool. You’re a grown ass woman. Shit.

You excuse yourself, powder your nose, apply your jelly tint, and simultaneously, well, spiral. 

So Min Yoongi doesn’t shit where he eats. Okay. He apparently follows rules? Huh… Make it make sense, though? 

Why should you be so disappointed? Plenty of fish in the sea. Except when you’re pushing forty and you’re too damn tired to cast a net out.

You get back in the living room and have another round of drinks, except Yoongi who says he is driving. 

You guess it’s time to head home when you see Haeun stifle a yawn, but Jungkook convinces you to stay for a bit more, just enough for him to video call Mingyu and gloat. Between the boyish bickering and another glass of wine, you’re thankfully feeling a little floatier again.

Later, when you’re putting your shoes back on in the entryway, you glance over at Yoongi. He’s scrolling on his phone, one hand in his pocket.

Your phone pings. Kakao T. Your ride’s on the way.

“Thank you again for dinner,” you say to Jungkook. 

He nods, placing an arm around Haeun. “Anytime, noona.”

Yoongi looks up. “You booked a ride?”

“Yeah. Should be here soon.”

He slips his phone into his jacket.

“Cancel it. I’ll drive you home.”

You blink. “What?”

“It’s late. Let me take you,” he says, tone slightly commanding.

You want to say ‘yes, sir’ out loud. But you keep it together. Barely. And then of course, you cancel the ride.

Yoongi leads you to the parking garage. At some point you think you feel his hand ghosting your lower back.

The drive is quiet. He picks a playlist you both have listened to before. It’s a vibe. Music playing low. City lights reflecting off the dashboard. Yoongi’s hand rests on the wheel, rings catching in the glow. 

He smells good. The veins in his hands are flexing.

You try not to stare. Or breathe weird. 

When he pulls up to your place, he shifts into park but doesn’t unbuckle yet. You unclick your seatbelt slowly.

“You looked beautiful tonight.”

Your breath catches. Full stop.

You turn to say something—thank you, or you too, or kiss me now—but words get stuck in your throat He just smiles softly.

“Good night,” he says.

“Good night,” you parrot before you step out.

The air hits you different. Your hands feel weird. You feel like a teenager after a first date she’s not sure was a date, but definitely made her feel some type of way.

That night, when you dream, it’s his eyes. And when you wake up? You’re not sure if you want to see him again or never see him again just to keep the dream intact.

The studio is chaos in the best way. BooSeokSoon are doing what they do best: being loud, dramatic, and infectious.

You’re standing off to the side watching Yoongi line up with them, the camera propped up and ready, his face unreadable as always, but there’s a looseness to his shoulders that tells you he’s in the mood to play. (And that he took a shot of something before he went in.)

You pull a balm from your pouch and swipe it gently onto his lips before he steps into frame.

“Cherry again?” he asks.

You nod. “Your fanbase will thank me.”

He smirks. “Noted.”

And then they start.

BSS hits every beat like their entire career depends on this one Tiktok challenge. And Yoongi? He’s keeping up. Relaxed, slightly silly, effortlessly cute.

You still don’t get Tiktok honestly.

When the music cuts, you clap before you even realize it.

They check playback, talking over each other. You wipe the sweat that has formed in Yoongi’s temple with a dab of tissue. But, as everyone focuses on the phone, Yoongi looks over at you.

“Which take was better?”

Caught off guard, you stammer, “the uh-i think the second.”

He hums, then he tells the girl he likes the second clip. BSS agrees.

You look at the boys as they chorus agreement, but when you glance back at Yoongi, he nods once, slow and soft. That grin of his (the real one, not the camera one) edges onto his face. It says, Go ahead. I know you miss them.

And you do. 

Before you know it, Seungkwan is already crashing into your side.

“Noonaaaa,” he sings, throwing his arm around you. “Still pretty..”

Seokmin grins, pulling you into a side-hug. “We were just talking about you yesterday.”

“Don’t do it again. I had an awful coughing fit yesterday. Should have known it was you morons.”

“You’re still superstitious.” Soonyoung shakes his head.

The exchange is quick, familiar, a little chaotic. Just like always. But it feels good, like slipping into a jacket you forgot used to fit perfectly. A few more jokes, a photo, and they’re off. There’s someone yelling about dinner, someone else remembering they have a shoot in twenty minutes. 

The social media crew also left, as well as the hair stylist who has another thing in ten. You stay behind, gathering your things. 

Yoongi’s still here, too. He’s at the far end, wiping sweat from the back of his neck with a towel. He grabs his water bottle, takes a long drink, then walks to the wall. You follow suit since everybody has filed out.

Click. He cut the lights.

The room drops into soft shadows, lit only by a few glow strips along the floor.

He’s by the door, tilts his head as he waits for you.

You stop just in front of him. 

“Didn’t say goodbye to your boys,” he says with a slight tease at the end.

You shrug, “They know I’ll see them again.”

He hums. “You look happy.”

“I am.”

You think that’s the end of it. Because why would you be having a whole conversation with the lights out?

He shifts his weight forward, closing the distance between you by a step. Close enough that you can see the sheen of sweat drying along his temple. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his skin. Close enough that if you breathed just a little deeper, you'd catch his scent.

Then he leans in. And before you know it, you taste the cherry balm you swiped on his lips minutes before.

The kiss is so soft, so sweet. Just as quickly as it started though, he pulls away. You feel his breathy sigh caress your cheek as he whispers your name and mumbles, “Let’s go out.” 

But before you can form any response, he opens the door.

And, in fact, goes out.

WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?

Part Two >

A/N: Scream with meeeee! Idk. Isn’t it yoongi core to kiss, confess and yeet? I recently saw a video of when he met an american artist, he shook his hand, said i like you then looked awkwardly away. LMAO. 

Hope you had fun reading part 1! I’d appreciate feedback, like tell me any favorite scenes or what you wanna see more of.

Leave a note if you wanna be tagged on the next part :)

As always, thanks for reading you lovely, beautiful human xo

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Divider by: @/cafekitsune

[hobidreams]

Right Here, Right Now {M}

what if little Red wants to get eaten by the big bad wolves?

pairing: rapline x reader genre: smut, pwp, humor words: 8k contains: werewolf au, college au, massive 🍆s, knotting, oral (f & m), dirty talk, too much talk about bulges, a bit of a breeding kink, double penetration, humor, it’s me so they’re still kinda sweet, not actually a fairytale au a/n: my brain decided it was time to (temporarily) throw all plot out the window & indulge in some pure filth. i have no excuses. enjoy!!

Whoever invented sweatpants, specifically the light grey ones (Emile Camuset), can fuck right off. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Fuck right off. Because if it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be sitting here under your best friend’s arm, trying your best not to stare at the bulge that seems determined to steal your attention.

Keep reading

[trivia-yandere]

dilemma 2

"car sex looks so much easier in the movies." part one @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @investedreader @

warning: semi-public sex, car sex, dirty talk, drugdealer yoongi yas, smoking/"drug" use, mentions of drugs, guns, sexual enhancement pill, kissing, oral sex (f/m), fingering, nipple sucking, riding, creampie, unprotected sex, ass-slapping,

word count: 7.139

kinktober masterlist

“Each time I see you, you get something more bold.” the nail tech speaks as she carefully adds the clear coat onto your nails. “You always keep me on my toes. I never know what to expect.”

You giggle a bit with a curt nod to your head. “Would you believe me if I told you it wasn’t me choosing these designs?”

Yoongi had been the one to tell you all he wished for you to get - and you never went against it. He was the one paying for it. You recall one of the many times you and he were hanging out. He would always insist that you didn’t have to buy whenever you wanted weed, a perk that you didn’t wish to take advantage of. 

Yoongi understood that you were stubborn at times and instead decided that you two can smoke together and it wouldn’t be considered “free” if he was smoking it with you - as if you didn’t know he “accidently” left some behind for you whenever he left.

That, and it always ended with you and Yoongi fucking. You blamed it on you being high but you and him both understood that even sober would you be willing to fuck him. 

After a smoke session that soon lead to a fuck session, Yoongi had mentioned how your nails would look nice a light blue color and had offered to pay for it, no matter the cost. Him handing you $200 wasn’t what you expected - his excuse was he didn’t know how much nails cost.

Typical Yoongi response.

“Boyfriend?” she asks, eyes glancing up at you. “You always get designs and add bling.”

You lick your lip, unsure of how to respond.

Yoongi wasn’t your boyfriend - he never asked you. 

Sure you and he would often spend time together when you weren’t working and he wasn’t…doing whatever it was that he did. He never truly did tell you what he sells besides weed, but did you truly wish to know? Just like he said before - ignorance is bliss.

Yoongi and you would go places that could be considered dates - says your friends - and apparently acted like a couple. He would buy you things randomly, items he thought you’d enjoy and of course he does pay for your nails simply because he likes the way they look on you.

“Something like that.” was your response, unsure of what you were truly expected to respond with. 

There’s a ringing noise indicating that there’s a door opening. You raise your brow in confusion as it was already dark outside and the salon is closed and has been for over an hour now. You typically choose the later appointments at times and Yoongi would pick you up.  

“Ah, is this the boyfriend?”

Your head whips around to see Yoongi in the flesh. He steps closer, sauntering towards you with such a cool and nonchalant swag about him. Your heart jolts at just the sight of him, dressed casually; dark grassy colored shirt with light-washed gray jeans and his infamous Nikes that he wore that he had in nearly every color. 

Yoongi always wore jewelry, his wrist holding expensive gold bracelets and watches. His ears typically held little silver or gold hoops or the occasional diamond earrings. Witnessing him wearing a diamond studded chain around his neck, matched with another looser one that slightly sways as he walks. 

“Yoongi.” you say as he reaches you, your body warms at his sudden appearance. “I…I should be done soon. Were you waiting long?”

“Just stopping by. Have to make a quick stop before we go out to eat.” Yoongi shakes his head, dark eyes glancing down to your nails. “I like your nails. They’re nice.”

You couldn’t help but smile, looking at your nails with the design Yoongi picked out - full of different shining gems that he insisted you get, again, no matter the cost.

Yoongi goes through his pocket and grabs his wallet. He turns his eye to the nail tech who’s already watching in curiosity. Sometimes, not all, does Yoongi wear rings. They could be subtle, simple silver rings. Today, however, was not a subtle day. His index, middle, ring and pink display diamond-studded rings that say “SUGA”, and all you can do was snicker.

“Hopefully this is enough.” Yoongi says, handing her a wad of cash. You want to scoff at the insane amount of money he was handing her. “This is too much-” the nail tech widens her eyes a bit, looking between you and Yoongi. “It’s-”

“Fine.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders. “It’s fine. You can pocket the rest.” he assures, turning feline-like eyes to you. “You always do an amazing job.”

You have the urge to roll your eyes at him, but you cannot contain the soft smile that creeps onto your lips.

“You always show off like this?” the nail tech asks, placing your hand beneath the uv light. She wasn’t going to complain as you became her top client - always returning biweekly for a new set and leaving a hefty tip. Now she understands why - the man with diamond, sparkling jewelry.

“It’s pocket change..” Yoongi snorted. His hands, calloused and warm, grabs your dried ones and he leans down a bit to press a kiss onto your hand. He winks, the flirtatious Yoongi returning for just a moment before he nods his head at you. “I’ll pick you up no later than an hour.”

Yoongi’s car is parked directly in front of the salon, you and the nail tech watching as he gets into it and speeds off down the road. You haven’t realized you were holding your breath until you let it out.

“That’s…him.” you murmur, shaking your head. 

“That’s your man.” The tech nods her head in confirmation. “No doubt about it. You need to fuck him tonight.”

Your body heats up at her words and you begin to laugh nervously. Your nails are done now and you sit as she begins to clean her station, along with speaking with you.

“How long have you and him been together?”

“Not long…” you respond. “...I’ve known him forever. He would always sell me weed in college and I just never stopped going to him.”

“I knew it.” the tech gasps, her eyes widening as if you’ve told her the juiciest gossip ever. “At first, I was thinking… scammer! With all those rings on his hands and jewelry. Overall swag.” She stands up. “But a dealer sounds more accurate.”

You stand along with her. You were her last client of the day and she was preparing to close for the night. The evening sky displays such rich colors of purple, orange and pink all blending together perfectly. 

“Ugh, the sex has to be good.” she says with a shake of her head. “I have something that could make the experience better.”

You follow behind her as she grasps her purse and begins to stroll towards the salon doors. She turns off the lights behind you and begins to lock the doors.

“Better?” you furrow your brows. Sex with Yoongi was already amazing - he was the perfect type of pleaser that loved having his head between your legs.

However, you were curious about what she was trying to sell you.

“Girl,” she turns to you with a wicked smirk on her lips. The way she speaks to you is comfortable; like two close friends. “I have these pills. A little…enhancement. Not saying you need it. The way he looks at you…” she whistles, as if knowing that Yoongi can have you wet in seconds. “But…he’s a dealer, right? Meaning you and he always get high together?”

You nod your head hesitantly. 

“It'll be amazing. Trust me.” she proceeds to go through her purse and take out a small, square package. “Two of these and you’ll be ready for him in no time.”

She doesn’t even allow you much time to react before she’s shoving them in your hands. “In two weeks when I see you…tell me all about it.”

You aren’t sure what you expect to happen with the tiny, pink pills you took. It takes you a few minutes to walk down the street to the pharmacy to pick up your prescription and wait for another few minutes for them to be done with it. You decided that - why not. You decided to take it while you wait, chugging down a cup of water from the fountain.

You sit in the waiting area. It’s quiet, no one around in the pharmacy besides you and the pharmacist who appears to be taking his time filing your order; but you weren’t in much of a rush.

Your mind wanders to the pill and if it would truly work like she said it would, and if it did how would you react? It couldn’t be anything too strong that would have you wanting to tear Yoongi’s clothes off surely.

The door rings and you’re too occupied with your thoughts to care about who’s entering or the amount of footsteps. Of course, not until you hear a loud bang in the air, followed by several glass breaking. Your body instantly flinches, your heart pounding erratically. Your eyes are wide as you witness several men, all dressed in black clothing and masks covering their faces, point their guns right at the Pharmacist. The poor old man appears just as you knew you did - a deer caught in headlights and scared shitless.

“Stay there.” one man says to the Pharmacist, gun pointed right at him. “You don’t get paid enough to give a fuck about what we steal.”

There’s a total of five of them that you can see, three going behind the counter to shove different amounts of product in their bags while up front, there’s 1 guarding the door. You swallow thickly, your heart pounding outside your chest, your body trembling even more as the guy's head slowly turns towards you.

“Why are you here?”

As if on queue, several heads turn towards you as if just now realizing you were there. 

“I…I…”

“She wasn’t supposed to be here.” says one man behind the counter.

“I needed birth control.” you responded meekly, feeling your eyes begin to grow glossy.

“Don’t cry.” the man lowers his gun - that was aimed at the pharmacist - and shakes his head. “You can still get your birth control. Hand the girl her birth control.” he then raises it again, waving it towards the Pharmacist. “You weren’t supposed to see this…”

You’re unsure how to respond and decided that it was best not to. Your body is feeling different and your mind swears it’s playing tricks on you.

The door sounds once more and more footsteps make their way closer to you. You take a deep breath, eyes glancing at the men still shoving product into bags while the Pharmacist struggles to package your birth control.

“Y/N…”

That voice. 

Your head snaps towards Yoongi, whose eyes are watching you closely.

“I thought you were going home.” Yoongi murmurs, coming even closer to you. He doesn’t  acknowledge any of the men as he stands directly in front of you. 

“Y-Yoongi…?”

Your eyes blink several times, eyebrows knitting. 

“You weren’t supposed to be here…” Yoongi murmurs. “...when this happened.”

You’re silent for a moment to allow yourself to process his words. 

You glance around to the men who don’t appear to be bothered by you  -  a potential witness. You then turn your attention back to Yoongi.

“This is what you do?” you whisper, voice low and calm.

Yoongi inhales, his dark hues watching you closely. He’s not positive how you’re reacting to this. It’s as if your reaction changed from frightened to relaxed. 

“I’m not saying I do this.” Yoongi shrugs. “I am saying you weren’t supposed to be here. I’m sorry if you’re scared.” he’s truthful, you note, as this could be scary for anyone. “And I understand if this is the last time you want to see me.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, hyung.”

Yoongi closes his eyes a bit before turning to the man. He has a bag in his hands and he offers it to you. 

You look between the two before grasping it hesitantly. “Thank you.” you say, voice low and mind still attempting to process it all.

Yoongi knew these men, that was obvious. He wouldn’t be here without a mask if he hadn’t - nor would they all be so calm around him. Him being called hyung was just another confirmation. 

You sniffle a bit, the bag crinkling in your hands as you begin to stand. Yoongi is silent as he awaits your reaction - for you to run out of here and not look back. For you to demand him to leave you alone and never speak with you again. 

“Can you take me home?”

Yoongi feels his heart jolt a moment - there’s hope, isn't it? You felt comfortable enough to allow him to take you home. 

“Yes, baby.” Yoongi nods his head, murmuring his words so low. His voice is raspy and deep and his eyes are as dark as they always are and..

And you feel a thump between your legs, like a heartbeat.

You gulp.

The pill was working. In such a terrible time.

Slowly, you begin to stand, glancing away at the masked men for a moment.

“I’ll walk us out.” Yoongi offers, placing a hand around your waist and pulling you closer to him. You can smell his cologne - a mixture of citrus, wood and wood. It’s purely Yoongi and, once more, causes you to feel that familiar heartbeat between your legs.

“You were supposed to check to make sure no one was here.” you hear Yoongi’s voice behind you as you walk. His soft tone with you changes completely when he speaks to the men. 

“How are we supposed to know your girl would be here?” another voice sounds, just as annoyed as Yoongi was. “You said you’ll be out with her the whole night.”

Your body is heated at those words - Yoongi talks about you to his…friends? Associates? Fellow criminal dealers?

“Next time fucking check then!” Yoongi snaps, his hand on your waist as you walk past another mask man who opens the door for you.

The air is cool outside and it hits your warm body tenderly. You moan low at how good it feels, yet and still the thumping between your legs remains. 

Yoongi’s car is parked in an alley a few blocks away. It’s dark and the car is running. He presses a button on his car door and pulls it open. “Get in.” he mumbles, lightly patting your lower back. 

You proceed to do that and once inside, Yoongi closes the door. The rap music is low in his speakers and in a few moments he rounds the car entirely and gets inside the driver.

“Y/N,” Yoongi begins, releasing a sigh. “I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

You gently drop the paper bag onto the ground between your feet. You take a deep breath. “I’m not scared.” you respond.

Yoongi scoffs. You didn’t see the look on your face when he arrived. It infuriated him to see the glossy look in your eyes and if he could strangle each of them he would; Jungkook especially for attempting to reason with you with a gun in his hand and a mask covering his head. 

“I…” Yoongi places his hand onto your cheek. It causes you to hitch your breath. “...sell more than weed. You know that.” he murmurs, that voice again causes your body to react sinfully in a moment that you shouldn’t be. 

“I know.” you nod your head, gently leaning into Yoongi’s hand.

“Do you?” 

Yoongi’s thumb traces the outline of your lips.

“I would never hurt you.” Yoongi continues. “Do you know that? I’ll never put you in harm's way.”

You meet Yoongi’s eyes as they stare right through you. The car is dark and only a single street light in the alley illuminates slightly in the car. His chains sparkle on her neck along with the rings on his hands. 

“I can take you home, baby.” Yoongi hums, tilting his head a bit. He had to know the way you were looking at him right now. There wasn’t a way he thought that you just wanted to go home without you. “And if you don’t want to see me anymore…”

Yoongi doesn’t finish his sentence and instead awaits your response. 

“Who are they?”

Yoongi furrows one brow. “...My brothers.” he answers truthfully. “They can…be a bit dumb at times.”

“They know me.” you state, it wasn’t a question. 

Yoongi nods as his lips twitch upwards. “They know you.” he confirms. 

“I’m your girl?”

Your tone is teasing and there's a twinkle in your eyes; especially when your tongue pokes out to swipe at his thumb. 

“You are my girl.” Yoongi rasps, inhaling. “You know that.”

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

You wrap his thumb in your tongue, your eyes never moving from his; unblinking. You suck gently on it, wishing it was something else entirely.

“My girl…” Yoongi hisses. “I like your nails.”

Giggling, you release his thumb and shake your head. You reach your hand out and place it onto his thigh and dangerously close to his groin. You ponder if it was some type of kink Yoongi has

“Yeah?” you hum, nails tapping against him. “How much do you like it?”

Yoongi’s eyes lowers dangerously slow to your hand teasingly tapping the bulge in his jeans. Maybe it was a kink he had - he loved the way your nails appeared against him; when you’d wrap them around his cock. When you’d hold his face between your hands or rub it along his chest as the two of you would cuddle together. He enjoyed when you’d run your hands through his hair at times, though he had to pretend he didn’t because he, after all, was a man and not a soft one like you claimed once.

“So much…” Yoongi murmurs, tongue coating his lips. “...do you want to smoke?”

You tilt your head a bit, glancing up at Yoongi. It’s obvious you wanted to do something more than just smoke, but you decided to nod your head instead. Your mind wanders back to what your nail tech said, pondering if this pill mixed with a high would be any different.

You nod your head. 

In a way, this was a way for Yoongi to prepare himself to be able to deal with you and calm his own nerves. No one wasn’t expecting for you to be at the Pharmacy and eventually, he would explain what more he did outside of dealing weed. He didn’t want to literally show you and he still finds it surreal you’re handling it this smooth.

As always, Yoongi has everything pre-rolled for the two of you. He leans his seat back a bit and goes through his pockets for a lighter. He lights the joint before passing it to you.

“Do you do…this often?” you ask before placing it between your lips and taking a pull.

“I usually don't.” Yoongi shakes his head. “They do. I sell it.”

Smoke releases from your lips, your eyes zoning out for a moment to process his words. You supposed it made sense that Yoongi sold other stuff - and you’re sure this is still the tip of the iceberg. The fancy cars, expensive clothes and jewelry mixed with the amount of money he always gave you.

“We typically try to steer away from armed robbery but,” Yoongi shrugs. “business must go on, baby. We only steal from corporations, not small businesses.”

You take another pull and roll your eyes before passing it to Yoongi. “How “people over profit” you are.” you tease.   

Long fingers grasp the joint from you. Yoongi smoking has always looked hot to you and even now it just intensifies; maybe the pill was just having you crave Yoongi more. 

“Some people need medication for a cheaper price, others need it for other uses. I only supply them.” Yoongi releases the smoke from his nose, tilting his head as his eyes connect with yours. “Ya’ sure you okay?”

“I am.” you nod, offering a short smile.

“You look…” Yoongi can’t put his hands on it. High, sure, but you couldn’t be that high. You didn’t appear frightened anymore. Yet, that look in your eyes wasn't fear. “...hmm.”

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

You squeeze your legs a bit tighter as your eyes blink at Yoongi, never leaving his gaze. It clicks in his mind right then and there. You were horny - more than he’s ever seen before. The constant squeezing of your thighs, the slightly flushed look on your skin. 

“You want me to fuck you so bad.” Yoongi scoffs, a smirk forming onto his lips. 

You swallow, yet another jolt between your legs signaling that you indeed did want Yoongi to do just that. Your mouth begins to salivate at just the thought of having him deep in you, fucking you in such a disrespectful way that it’s nearly demeaning.

You let out a soft breath. 

“I do.” you admit, not wishing to hide it anymore. There was never any judgment with Yoongi and you find that you could always be truthful and open with him. He was a tease at times, but you never took it bad. “I took this pill.”

“Pill?” Yoongi raises a brow, taking another hit of the joint before passing it back to you. “What type of pill?”

You do the same as Yoongi, closing your eyes for a bit as the smoke hits your lungs. “Sexual enhancement, I suppose.” you shrug your shoulders. “Nail tech gave it to me. Told me to try it.”

Yoongi is intrigued now. Maybe this was what is causing your eyes to give him such longing, seductive stares. 

Yoongi licks his lips. “Hm.” he blinks. “How do you feel?”

You take a long hit of the blunt, your eyes staring right at him for a second too long, showing him just how you feel without truly saying another. 

“I want to suck your dick.” you say, releasing the smoke from your lips, hitting Yoongi directly in the face. “Now.”

Yoongi is nothing but a man. Of course he got hard by that - especially with how demanding you were. He wasn’t a highly dominant person and didn’t mind whenever you wanted to take control; same as of right now.

The blunt, now too small for your nails to grasp, is discarded and quickly, you push yourself towards Yoongi. Your lips connect with his hastily, hands going to touch the bulge in his jeans, gripping and rubbing it.

Yoongi swallows back his moans as he kisses your back, your tongue dancing with his own. Your hand manages to get inside his jeans and grasp his length tightly in your palm, causing Yoongi to gasp.

“That pill must be really fucking you up.” Yoongi grunts when you release his lips, saliva snapping the connection as you do. He offers you assistance in lowering his jeans so his cock can spring free.

“It is.” you say, your eyes not leaving his as you open your mouth and allow a trail of saliva to fall out slowly and onto the tip of his cock.

Yoongi groans, his eyes darkening at how slutty you looked. 

You lower yourself to wrap the tip in your tongue, allowing it to swirl. Your eyes close and instinctively, your back arches. You never enjoyed doing this before Yoongi, as you found that  no man was truly worth sticking their cock in your mouth. However, Yoongi was different and you acknowledge that. You enjoyed sucking his cock and hearing the sweet moans and words of encouragement. 

“Ah, shit.” Yoongi slams his head against the seat.  His eyes begin to flutter, finding it extremely difficult to leave his eyes open.

Yoongi’s cock is warm in your mouth, radiating the same heat as your tongue does. His tip hits the back of your throat almost playfully.

Yoongi tries his hardest to compose himself, but he cannot. Especially not when it comes to you. There’s only so much of his moans he can keep to himself before he releases them pathetically. One large hand places itself on top of your head while his pale cheeks flushes a dusty pink. Your hand tightens around the shaft of his cock so you could focus solely (for now) on sucking on the tip.

“You always look so beautiful.”

Yoongi’s eyes lazily flutter back open to watch the way you suckle onto his cock with such need. His hand slightly grips your hair, unable to take his low eyes away from the obscene sight of you. 

Your tongue runs past Yoongi’s slit, turning your head a bit just to look up at him. Dark, cloudy eyes meet his and he shivers visibly. The salty pre-cum hits your tongue and you giggle softly at the taste of it - but how couldn’t he? Everything about you was perfect to him - even outside of sex. 

You wanted Yoongi just as much as he wanted you. You wanted to see him crumble and shiver in your embrace. Yoongi was the type of man that gave you everything and didn’t expect anything in return - you wanted this moment to be about him; for however long he’d last.

You take Yoongi further into your mouth, opening wide and willingly. Your tongue lays flat as you bob your head up and down rapidly.

Yoongi, on the other hand, groans, his eyes rolling. His thighs shake just as the sound of your suckling groans louder. Car sex wasn’t usually his forte as it was a small space for two people - but he does find that it’s convenient. That and you were determined to not wait any longer than you needed to.

Your mouth is good for Yoongi. So warm and wet, pleasuring him greatly with qualified skills that he doesn’t realize himself that he’s thrusting into your mouth until he hears you groan on top of him. There’s saliva pooling out from the corner of your mouth and dripping down your chin. 

“That pill must be kicking your ass.” Yoongi grunts, roughly removing your lips from his wet cock. It springs out of your lips with a ‘pop’ and slaps you directly between your eyes, an act you weren’t bothered by in the slightest. “You want to do this now?” 

Yoongi licks his lips just as you nod your head erratically, an eager look in your eyes. He releases a short chuckle. “If that’s what you want…get in the back.” he nods his head to the empty back seat before fixing himself. His eyes survey his surroundings, the alley way as dark and quiet as it always was. His brothers had to be done by now.

Just as you scurry to the backseat, Yoongi opens the driver door to go back there as well. The car remains on, headlights off to not gain any unwanted attention. He sits in the back and locks the door before turning to you. 

“Car sex looks so much easier in the movies.” Yoongi murmurs, but he’s fond of this memory he would share with you. You and he would look back to how terrified (and horny) you were on this very day. “Take your clothes off.”

Your body flushes at the change in Yoongi’s voice, but your pussy continues to throb. You do as you’re told, kicking off your leggings and throwing your panties along with this. Yoongi continues to watch as each second passes and your naked flesh makes its appearance.

“Come.” Yoongi murmurs, reaching out for you. He clasps your chin to press a gentle kiss onto your wet lips, an act he always did. You always adored the contrast that was Min Yoongi, such a gentle man that could fuck you so disrespectfully if he wanted to. “Now lay back.”

Yoongi doesn’t wait for you to get situated before he’s already parting your legs.  After doing this with him many times, you cannot bring yourself to be embarrassed; especially not now. 

“You’re so wet.” Yoongi murmurs to himself, his eyes zoning between your legs as his mouth begins to salivate. 

Yoongi lowers himself, both hands digging into your thighs to keep them apart. He presses a simple kiss against your clit that causes your back to arch at how sensitive you truly were.

“S-Shit…!”

Yoongi wasn’t one to waste time. His tongue lays flat against your clit, his head bobbing back and forth in rhythm. There’s only a short tune of music in the background that completely dies down with the sound of your high-pitched moans. 

Yoongi loves being between your legs - it didn’t matter if it was his cock or his face. Your thighs are warm as they cage his head between them and he finds that he genuinely enjoys eating you out. Most men didn’t understand the act as much as he did. The sweet sounds of your moans are fixed with little words of encouragement. The way you’d squirm and beg for him to slow down - and he never did. It all drove him insane and wanting to give you more.

Yoongi’s eyes stare upwards at you. Your hands squeeze your breast while your eyes are snapped shut. You don’t hold in your moans; he doesn’t want you to. 

Yoongi’s tongue is always rough against your sensitive clit. It’s as though he’s forcing you to cum all over him, determined to taste your arousal that he causes. Maybe it’s an ego boost as a man to be able to cause a woman to cum so harshly. So much so that he doesn’t come up for air and continues to suckle on your swollen clit until you’re nearly begging for him to slow down.

It doesn’t help that Yoongi was an attractive man between your legs who enjoys watching you crumble for him. You learned the first few times to keep your eyes off of Yoongi while he was doing this for once you made eye contact, it was a wrap. He wouldn't break it, all the while his tongue would be buried deep between your legs.

“-fuck…”

Your thighs are quivering as Yoongi lifts himself from between your legs just as your high was about to come crashing over you. 

Of course, Yoongi wasn’t done with you. Your hole is clenching and unclenching with each passing second and Yoongi couldn’t help but want to bury his fingers deep inside of you.

Yoongi’s rings are cold as he inches his fingers inside of you. Again, your back arches once your walls feel his fingers inside of you.

“Let’s see how hard you can squirt in under three minutes.” 

Such mischief in his dark eyes, a smirk forming on his lips. He licks them, savoring the taste of your sweet arousal that’s now coating his long fingers. He releases a short sigh - how perfect you truly were for him. 

“Yoongi…” you squeal, warmth shooting throughout your entire body. His fingers are deep inside of you, wiggling teasingly as its own is determined to play with you.

“Yes, baby?” 

Yoongi knows what his voice does to you - he has to. It can be normal when you and he spoke, and like a flick of a switch, it’s deep. Husky and full of lust - much like now. 

You take a deep breath just as Yoongi takes his fingers out just to shove them back in  - you contemplate that it’s at least three of them inside of you, just enough to drive you crazier. His fingers scrape the inside of your clamping walls feverishly, your squelching pussy growing louder than your moans.

Your thighs tremble with the impact, having the need to shut because it was all too much and you’re beginning to blame the pill for just how aroused you were. It felt as if your body was a furnace with how hot you felt. Goosebumps clutter your skin entirely and just by the soppy sounds coming from between your legs, you’re positive that you’re soaked.

Yoongi, however, doesn’t mind how wet you are - or the fact that it’s smudging all over his seats entirely. His fingers continue to thrusting inside of you, pace never faltering. Your arousal paints his hand and wrist entirely. The man is astonished by just how more and more arousal continues to pool out of you.

“S-Stop…” you manage to grunt, your eyelids closing rather tightly. A weak hand goes to wrap around Yoongi’s wrist, but that doesn’t cause him to do as you tell him to.

“No.” was Yoongi’s response, hovering directly above you now, his face a few inches from yours. You looked completely out of it and he wasn’t making it any easier. “Squeezing around my fingers so tightly, baby, it’s okay. Just let go…”

Yoongi’s breath is warm against your cheek and his own warmth scatters right onto you. His cologne is even more present with how close he was; woody and musky and the familiarity of it all causes you to cry out - also because of how well he’s hitting a certain spot with such ease.

How you managed to lift your arm to wrap around Yoongi’s neck, you’re unsure. You felt rather weak beneath him, but you did so. Your lips find his instinct and you press a firm kiss against it just as you felt your high come before you.

Yoongi groans into the kiss as your thighs tremble as you were coming and just on time does he remove his fingers from your wet core to allow your arousal to fall freely, splashing against your seats on his car and coating your thighs.

Yoongi releases your lips to allow you to breathe. You gasp out, your hand holding onto Yoongi closely as you attempt to gather yourself pathetically. Your head is swirling, your mind flashing with different scenes and never truly focusing on one - was this the weed or the pill? You aren’t sure.

“You’re just so fucked out. It’s cute.” Yoongi chuckles with a shake of his head. He ponders on the pill you were given that could have you like this.

“Shut up.” you sigh, swallowing. Your throat is dry and you’re unsure the reason why. “I want you to cum in me.”

Yoongi snickers as he leans away from you to look at you just as you open your eyes. 

“You can’t possibly have the energy for that right now?” Yoongi teases, but his eyes are watching you closely, as if questioning if you truly did or not. 

“Take your dick out.” you say cooly, pushing yourself from your laying posting to now seat against his backseats.

Yoongi doesn’t fight with you and instead does as you tell him to. His jeans are pushed down to his knees and before he could react, you swing yourself on top of him.

You weren’t going to allow the cramped space to stop you from your goal. You’re determined to feel him fully, planting both feet on either side of it before positioning yourself directly above his cock. 

Yoongi lets out a short breath when you center his cock at your hole, his hands instantly meeting your hips. He then swallows as you begin to enter his cock inside of you.

So wet.

So warm.

So tight.

Yoongi squeezes your hips with shaky fingers when he feels like you sit directly on top of him. He shakes his head gently, his own thighs beginning to shake. 

“You looked just as fucked out.” you tease, licking your lips. You had no time to tease him, however, and instantly begin to lift your hips and crash it back down against him.

Your hands place themselves onto his shoulders as you begin to ride him, snapping your hips in rhythm. The care begins to shake slightly and anyone that may walk past would obviously know that a couple were fucking in here.

It doesn’t stop either of you, of course. 

Manicured nails dig into Yoongi’s shirt and you push your head back. His cock is deep inside of you, crashing against your sweet spot with each buckle of your hips. Your breast pounces directly into his face, so much so that he finds that he enjoys this position the most.

“You’re insatiable.” Yoongi groans, large hands sliding up to grip your breast into them. He open his mouth to send a kitten-like lick on both nipples, his tongue twirling around the hardened bud. 

You continue to bounce on Yoongi, using his cock to fuck yourself as you desire. Your stamina was running out - as you rarely rode him, only when he asked. However, the feeling of his cock deep inside of you causes you to ignore your shaking thighs and continue on.

Yoongi on the other hand is astonished by how long you’ve managed to do this, but he wasn’t complaining. You’re riding his cock as if it belongs to you; like a sex toy you put back inside the drawer when you’re done with. His hands are squeezing your body entirely, your walls clasping around his cock to milk him of everything he has.

“Slow,” Yoongi stops you mid thrust, panting. Both hands place themselves onto your ass as he halts you. “down.” he murmurs, pressing his forehead against your chest. 

Yoongi grunts when he feels you clench around him, his head lifting to look you in your eyes. You’re tired, he notes, but still so full of lust that you’re not going to stop until you’re satisfied. 

“‘wanna feel you cum in me.” you breath, grinding against his cock.

“Yeah?” 

Yoongi begins to thrust, taking control from you. He could never truly deny you what you wanted - even if it was going to kill him (metaphorically). Large hands squeeze your ass as he begins to thrust while keeping you in place. He pounds deep inside of you, tip of his cock reaching just where he needs to be to have you moaning loudly.

The car is humid now and the both of you are sweating. Wet skin slapping mixed with grunts and moans echoes throughout the car. It’s foggy and only partly due to your earlier activities.

“So beautiful for me.” Yoongi growls, tearing his eyes away from your pussy - that’s gripping him tightly and leaves a milky ring around his cock - to your fucked out face. “All for me, right?”

“All f-for you.” you say in agreement, hands squeezing his poor shirt that you’re sure it wouldn’t fit correctly anymore. “You always fuck me so good.”

Yoongi snickers . “You always take me so good.” he responds, right hand harshly slapping your ass, an act he knows you love. “Pussy was made for me. I waited too long to have it.” he admits.

You want to ask Yoongi what he means, but you’re unable to form words now that he flips you entirely, your back slapping right back into the (wet) seats. He presses your knees to your shoulders and begins to drill you even deeper and harder.

“Wanted to fuck you ever since I seen you at the bar.” Yoongi continues, eyes bow out as he reminisces about a time in your college days that you possibly forgot. “Wearing that short skirt and the low tight-fitted top…”

Your mind tries to rack back to the time but you’re truly unsure. You and your friends frequented the bar often and you always found Yoongi out and about, as well, as he was a dealer. 

Yoongi grunts, cock pounding deep inside of you that it would be alarming if he didn’t know how you adored being fucked.

“You don’t remember the way you put your hands on my chest? You were so drunk, giggling and calling me cute. I could’ve bent you over and fucked you right in front of everyone and you’d let me.” Yoongi spats, his dirty words only turning you on more.

Yoongi thinks back to those days years ago, how young and naive you were. How lucky you were that he wasn’t one to take advantage like others would’ve in your drunken state. How he began to pin after you silently, unsure how to truly speak to you outside of you contacting him first - either for weed or just to talk while you were drunk.

“I wanted you to fuck me for so long, too ” you can feel your insides squirm as you speak, his cock sloppily thrusting inside of you. You were going to cum so hard now. “Mission accomplished.”

Yoongi snickers and offers a few more sloppy thrusts. You and he could remember the old times and he’d embarrassingly admit more details about his feelings. As of right now, he was determined to cum in you.

Nails digging into your legs as he holds them in place, Yoongi releases deeply inside of you, cum shooting and painting your walls. Your eyes are closed tightly, chest heaving as you feel his warm seed pool in you. 

Yoongi doesn’t move from inside of you until he’s softening. His cum drips out of you when he does and it causes him to snicker.

“I’m so tired.” you murmur, eyes still closed and attempting to catch your breath. “And hungry.”

Lightly tapping your naked thigh, Yoongi speaks. “Side effects, baby. Where do you wanna eat?” You begin to open your eyes, looking towards Yoongi. He’s fixing himself up, pulling up his jeans and tightening his belt.

Yoongi turns his eyes to you and tilts his head. “What?”

“Why didn’t you say anything years ago?”

Yoongi leans back and shrugs his shoulders. You’re asking questions sooner than he expected. “What the fuck was I suppose to say? I didn’t want to come off as some creep.” he scoffs. “I knew your number, where you lived, where you went to school. I didn’t want to turn you off.”

“You wouldn’t have.” you cross your arms.

“You’re saying that because you find me attractive.” Yoongi waves you off. “If I was hideous you would’ve screamed bloody murder.”

You blink, but then begin to smirk. “True.” you murmur, finally having the strength to pull yourself up. “So…your brothers.” you begin. “They all do the same thing you do?”

“More or less.” answers Yoongi rather vaguely. “I’m sorry again. You weren’t supposed to be caught up in that.”

You blink a few times as Yoongi lifts a hand to touch your cheek. His eyes are sincere as he speaks to you and it causes a jolt in your heart this time .

“It’s cool.” you say, leaning into his hand. “If you were hideous, I would’ve screamed bloody murder.” you joke, causing Yoongi to laugh and you right along with him.

[joonsmagicshop-deactivated20241]

Stress Relief Series- MYG

 Summary: A couple weeks ago Taehyung asked a favor. For you to have sex with his bandmates to relieve some tension and stress. How can you say no to that.

Paring: Yoongi/Reader (Namjoon, Jin and Taehyung are mentioned)

Rating: M/18+

Word Count: 5k

Tags: smut, fingering, eating pussy, soft Yoongi, dom Yoongi, hand jobs, cum eating, dirty talk.

Authors Note: My sweet Yoongi.

In case you missed it

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Yoongi knew he should have changed the code on his door ages ago.

Maybe he would actually get work done if he did.

His fingers danced across the keyboard as he pulled his headphones tighter against his ears to block out the sound of his bandmates talking.

His shoulders were starting to hurt from being so slouched over a computer desk his eyes were dry and his patience was thin

So very thin.

Yoongi knew what his strengths were, making music was one of them but lately he felt as if he had just hit a wall and could not break through it. He was stuck, musically constipated as Hobi said, which caused everyone to break out into giggles and Yoongi to shoot Hobi a very lewd gesture causing everyone to burst into laughs again

Yoongi closed his eyes for a moment and tried his best to get in a happy calm mindset but he could still hear Taehyung and Namjoon teasing each other in the background and Jin munching away on something.

Yoongi had enough and he ripped his headphones and turned the chair around.

“Alright everyone out! You all are annoying and I can’t concentrate. I’m changing the passcode tomorrow so out. Now.” He demands as Namjoon and Tae stare at him in shock and Jin just kept eating.

“We aren’t even doing anything! You had your headphones in the whole time!” Tae argues as he shoots Yoongi his signature pout which usually works, but not today.

“I could still hear you and Namjoon chatting. Out! Seriously I can’t concentrate. And Jin stop eating and getting crumbs everywhere. Honestly” Yoongi grumbles as he crosses his arms and stares them all down.

“Yoongi you spend all your time here we feel like we haven’t seen you except at dance practice. We wanted to hang out with you.” Namjoon says standing up and coming to sit in the chair next to Yoongi, concern written all over his face.

Yoongi let out a sigh, he didn’t mean to make Namjoon concerned, he had enough to worry about as their leader.

“Yeah, Yoongi I just wanted to hang out with my favorite Hyung.” Tae pouts as Yoongi shoots him a small smile.

“Rude!” Jin calls out kicking Taehyung’s shin and Namjoon puts a hand over his heart fake offended.

“Laying it on thick to stay. Nice try but no. Out all of you.” Yoongi says as Taehyung and Jin grumble but gather their things.

“I’ll stay and help you with the song,” Namjoon responds as he grabs the spare headphones out of the desk drawer and scoots closer.

“Thank you Namjoon. Finally some help.” Yoongi complains as the other two roll their eyes.

“Wow, Yoongi you seem stressed…” Taehyung starts with a smirk and Yoongi knows where he is going with this.

He hasn’t forgotten the proposition Taehyung made to them a month and a half prior. He had just been so busy he hadn’t thought about it.

Well okay, he has thought about it but it’s usually after a long studio session or dance session very late at night when it would be rude to call upon a stranger, so Yoongi would let his hand wrap around his cock and imagine it was someone else. Those were the nights he slept the best.

“Yeah, Yoongi you might want to do something about that. If only there was someone to help.” Jin teased as they both refused to leave standing by the door with matching smirks.

“Did I not tell you to get out?” Yoongi shoots back as he stares them down giving them death glares.

“Okay, guys enough. We are all stressed out let’s not make it worse.” Namjoon says diplomatically as Yoongi feels his shoulders slump again.

“You don’t have to be you know. I gave you a way out…an option.” Taehyung reminds them with a wave of his cell phone which has Jin cracking up beside him.

“Enough. Out.” Yoongi demands as he points to the door.

Taehyung giggles and opens the door to leave but Jin doesn’t leave just yet, his hand hovering on the door as he adjusts his bag on his shoulder.

“Ah, Namjoon I forgot to thank you for going to that exhibit and ditching me for dinner. I had a fantastic night. You really missed out".” He says teasingly with a wink as Namjoon’s eyes go wide.

Taeyhung is hunched over in the hallway cackling like a maniac and Yoongi is very close to standing up and slamming the door in their faces.

“Jin…seriously,” Namjoon whines with disapproval in his voice.

When Taehyung first brought the idea forward it was obvious that Namjoon disapproved. He reminded them they were idols and they needed to be careful and this was a huge risk. Taehyung reminded them he had been with Y/N for months and nothing had happened and his career was still intact, leaving it open for each of them to decide individually.

It seems not everyone shared Namjoon’s worry.

“And just so you know, my face is still handsome when I’m fucking someone against a mirror.” Jin finishes with a satisfied smirk as Yoongi finally has enough and stands up to slam the door in his so-called handsome face.

Taehyung and Jin run down the hallway cacking like hyenas before Yoongi can catch them and when he does slam the door it’s not as satisfying.

He runs a hand down his tired face and marches back to his computer where Namjoon is still seated in shock.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks as he fiddles around to pull up the song he had been stuck on for the past couple of days, sincerely hoping Namjoon could help him or he might scrap the whole thing out of frustration.

“Yeah, I just… they went against my warning? The maknaes I understand... they are horny little monsters but Jin? He is the oldest and supposed to be responsible? What if something happens?” Namjoon frets.

“I’m sure it will be okay. Taehyung said he has been with Y/N for a while and nothing has happened. I mean Jin was the one to point her out to him in the first place…responsible my ass. Either way, it already has happened and time machines don’t exist. We have enough to worry about with this tour.” Yoongi points out as Namjoon fiddles in his seat.

“I’m calling a meeting,” Namjoon says pulling out his phone.

Yoongi stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Namjoon no. What’s a meeting going to do anyway? You tell them not to they are going to want to do it more. We should just leave it.” Yoongi says as Namjoon grumbles and puts his phone in his pocket.

“Let’s just focus on the song okay? Please? Or do I have to kick you out too?” Yoongi half jokes as he grabs his discarded headphones.

“Sorry, Hyung just…stressed out,” Namjoon admits as Yoongi nods and puts the headphones over his messy hair as they both get to work.

The thing about someone warning you not to do something…

It really does make you want to do it more.

This was one of those times Yoongi hated being right.

He and Namjoon worked on the song for a total of two hours and Namjoon did help him get over his creative block.

It was a good studio session and Yoongi was grateful for his friend.

However, Namjoon had plans with some friends at his house, and even though he offered an invite to Yoongi multiple times Yoongi declined.

He wanted to stay and work on the music some more despite Namjoon telling him he needed rest and to eat something.

“I’m going to text you every hour Yoongi and if you are not out of this studio by eleven I’m dragging you out,” Namjoon warns as he throws his helmet over his head and waves as he leaves.

The problem is that Yoongi had all these ideas when Namjoon was around. He felt the creative juices flowing.

Now that Namjoon is gone and he is alone everything feels wrong.

His sweater is too hot, his hair tickles his face, his eyes burn from staring at a screen for too long, his shoulders hurt, he feels itchy and irritable and he is hard, so painfully hard in his track pants it’s annoying him further.

“Namjoon no. What’s a meeting going to do anyway? You tell them not to they are going to want to do it more.”

Yoongi hates being right.

But since Jin mentioned it Yoongi has not been able to stop thinking about it. It had been ages since he had something to satisfy him other than his right hand and the thought was tempting. How amazing it would feel to slide into a tight wet pussy, how good it would feel to have someone moaning his name, taking his cock, taking care of him.

He can hear Namjoon’s panic in the back of his mind. What if something does go wrong?

However, his skin is prickling with heat and his stomach is swooping with need and just at the thought of fucking someone his cock is twitching and leaking in his track pants making his skin itch some more.

Maybe Taehyung was onto something after all.

Fuck it.

Yoongi grabs his phone from his desk with one hand and palms the head of his cock with the other. He wants to relieve at least some tension so he doesn’t blow his load the second he gets to you.

With his free hand, he types out a message.

And lucky for him it doesn’t take long for you to respond.

By the time you hear the knocking on the door, you have just gotten the food all laid on the table.

You smirk to yourself as you smooth down your shirt and open the door to see Min Yoongi standing there.

He shoots you a shy timid smile as you lead him in and right to the kitchen.

His eyes widen and you try not to laugh.

“What’s all this?” He asks blinking slowly as he takes in the dimmed lights and the takeout containers.

“Y/N you didn’t have to do this.” He says softly as you pour him a glass of water and gesture for him to sit down at the table.

“I didn’t do this. Taehyung did. Well I mean… he texted me and gave me the heads up you might reach out. When I told him you did he ordered all this food for us and said you were stuck in the studio today and probably didn’t eat. He got all your favorites… or at least that’s what he told me” You admit as you sit across from Yoongi and his eyes soften.

“He was being a menace today and I had to kick him and Jin out of my studio he really knows how to suck up,” Yoongi explains as you start to pile his plate high and he runs a hand through his hair.

“Yup, that sounds like Taehyung.” You tease as you give him his plate and work on making your own.

You pile on a little bit of everything and push your chair closer to Yoongi as you both eat.

Conversation flows freely and you find Yoongi very easy to talk to. He tells you a little bit about his day and asks you about yours.

The whole thing is very domestic for two people who just met twenty minutes ago.

Once dinner is finished you pack everything up and leave it in the fridge reminding yourself to make Yoongi take it home with him.

You turn around to see Yoongi who is sitting in the chair, arms crossed over his stomach and trying his best to keep his eyes open.

He just looks so exhausted.

“Come on Yoongi time for sleep.” You coo as his eyes slowly flutter open and a pink blush paints his cheeks.

“But- I didn’t come here just to eat and sleep, I wanna fuck you.” He says innocently as you bite back a smile and help him out of his chair.

He loops an arm around you and buries his face into your neck as you guide him to your bedroom and help him flop down on the bed.

“How about we sleep first, baby? You look two seconds away from passing out.” You say to him.

“I’m fine I promise.” He says pouting out his lower lip looking as cute as ever.

“Yoongi how about we take a little nap at least? You can’t keep your eyes open.” You push, and much to your surprise he doesn’t argue and instead climbs up the bed.

You giggle when he throws back the smallest corner of the comforter to slip under and once he gets himself situated he makes grabby hands towards you.

You throw back the covers and climb under so you are the little spoon and immediately Yoongi wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush to his body so your back is pushed up against his chest and his nose is pressed into your hair.

“Thank you Y/N. m’ sorry this probably isn’t what you expected. And I don’t usually cuddle with people I don’t know…m’ just so tired.” Yoongi admits in a small voice as you push yourself closer to him and rub your hands up and down his arms.

“Yoongi let me take care of you, you are clearly exhausted from working so hard Let’s both get some rest okay?” You say softly as you bring his hand up to kiss the back of it causing him to push himself closer to you.

You were unsure how long you had slept for, all you knew was Yoongi’s arms were wrapped tightly around you and his cock was hard and pressing into your backside.

You craned your neck to look out your window seeing the sky dark and littered with stars. You both must have slept for at least a couple of hours.

You put your head back on the pillow and were about to doze off again when Yoongi let out a breathy whimper against your back and ground his cock harder into your butt. His hands tightened around you and you could hear the soft pants and whines that were spilling from his mouth as you smiled.

His moans were getting more high-pitched as he ground harder into you and your hand came around to cup at his bulge but you stopped yourself.

You never went over rules or anything with Yoongi because after you ate you both fell into a food coma-type sleep.

You weren’t sure if it was okay to touch him and you didn’t want to do it without his permission.

The only thing you could do was wake him up and just as you were about to do so you felt something else against your backside.

A pulsing vibration from a phone which meant someone was calling him.

You shook his arm to wake him and looked over your shoulder to see his eyes blearily opening as his phone continued to vibrate against your hip.

“Mm, what time is it?” He asked voice husky with sleep which made your stomach swoop, his sleepy voice was so sexy.

“Yoongi your-” You said as he suddenly realized and his eyes nearly popped open as he shoved his hard cock away from your backside and started apologizing profusely.

“No not that! I think someone is calling you. Your phone!” You say as he sits up still slightly disoriented as the vibrating stops.

But just as it stops it starts again and Yoongi leans back to fish his phone from his pocket frowning when he sees the screen.

“Shit, it’s Namjoon.” He says shooting you a look.

“I can leave if you need some privacy.” You say already turning to get out of bed, but Yoongi stops you with a strong hand on your thigh as he stares you down.

“Stay. This will be quick.” He says taking the call and holding the phone up to his ear as you slip back under the blankets.

“Hello?” Yoongi says as you fiddle with the blanket and try to make yourself look busy. Even though Yoongi wanted you to stay you still felt like you were intruding on something you shouldn’t have

You can faintly hear Namjoons worried voice over the phone. How he tried to text Yoongi multiple times and got no response.

You are about to stand up and leave despite Yoongi’s wishes when his long fingers circle your wrist and you gasp and stare at him in shock when he brings it to his hard cock and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Are you sure?” You whisper not wanting to be picked up by Namjoon on the other line as he nods and you slowly start to apply pressure to his hard cock through the thin material of his track pants.

“Mhmm. I know Joon. Mhmm.” Yoongi drawls as Namjoon continues to talk and you continue to stroke his cock through his pants watching as his hips rut up into your hand and how his eyes are fluttering with every pass of your palm.

Without hesitation, you dip your fingers into his waistband and boxers and circle the base of his cock, a choked groan leaving his lips as you hear Namjoon stop his talking, and you eye Yoongi.

“Yeah I’m okay Namjoon, sorry I just woke up from a nap.” Yoongi admits as he mouths the word “move” to you.

You dance your fingers along his painfully hard shaft and when you reach the head of his cock you can feel him dripping all over your fingers.

You gather as much of it as you can before taking your hand out of his pants and holding your fingers up to his face so he can see for himself.

His eyes widen when you take your fingers and pop them in your mouth, licking and sucking at the juices.

“Namjoon listen I have to-go I gotta go,” Yoongi says as you can hear the muffled noises of Namjoon protesting on the other line.

“Yoongi where did you nap?” You can hear Namjoon ask as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean in, kissing at the exposed skin of his neck as he throws his head back and you hear a small thump from when it hits the headboard.

“Nam-J-oon I have to go-seriously,” Yoongi says voice cracking as you suck on his neck letting your tongue flick over his warm flesh.

“Min Yoongi you better not be doing what I think you're doing!” You hear Namjoon warn.

You lick a bold stripe up his neck from collarbone to earlobe as Yoongi hangs up on his friend and throws his phone across the room.

His hands are tight on your hips as you position yourself so you are straddling him, pushing your wet core into his throbbing cock as he grabs you and pulls you in for a bruising kiss.

His lips are soft as they push into yours. His hands stay tight on your hips and your heart is racing in your chest when he wastes no time slipping his tongue into your mouth.

The kiss is heated and laced with heat and passion that it makes your head spin. He shifts his hips to push his hard cock into you and you whine against him as your core throbs with need.

“Need you. Fuck need you so bad. I’ve been hard all day thinking about this.” He mutters against your lips as his hands tug at the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head.

You can faintly hear his phone vibrating on the floor and you pull back to stare at him.

“Namjoon again?” You ask as Yoongi doesn’t seem too bothered, he is preoccupied with exploring your body with his tongue and taking off your bra.

“Yoongi your phone.” You cry out when he finally gets the bra off and his lips attach to your nipple sucking harshly causing moans to spill from your mouth and your eyes to close as your hands tangle in his hair.

“Don’t give a shit about Namjoon right now. Need you so fucking bad. Let him break down the door it’s not gonna stop me from fucking you.” Yoongi growls as he thrusts his cock up against you again and you whine.

You rake your hands through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes as he stares up at you, lips still wrapped around your nipple and a grin on his face.

“Woke up so fucking hard, wish you didn’t wear pants so I could have just slipped it right in.” He admits as you groan and grind your wet pussy down on his lap.

“Gonna soak my pants, baby. Gotta take these off.” He says as he helps you off of him and crawls down the bed so he is between your legs.

Your eyes widen in shock when he pulls your pants down harshly and throws them on the floor, muffling the sound of his still-vibrating phone even more.

“You sure you don’t want to answer your phone?” You ask as Yoongi kisses up and down your legs, stealing your breath from your lungs.

“And miss the chance of eating you out to get yelled at by Namjoon. Not a fucking chance.” He growls as he slowly makes his way to your core.

He takes his sweet time kissing up your thighs as you moan and thrash on the bed. Your body is on fire with need and you feel your core throb with every swipe of his tongue on your legs and thighs.

“Yoongi… please.” You cry out as you prop yourself up on pillows to get a better view of him between your legs.

“Please what? Use your words” Yoongi demands looking smug between your legs as his fingers run along your upper thighs.

“Touch me.” You whisper holding your breath in anticipation.

“I am touching you love.” He teases.

“Min Yoongi I swear to god. Please.” You cry out as he finally dips his finger into your folds and collects your wetness bringing it up to your clit and making your head hit the pillow and your eyes roll back.

“Fuck baby your soaking my fingers. Needy little thing aren’t you? Did the other boys touch you or was it all just talk?” He hums as he rubs small slow circles on your clit causing you to arch your back.

“Needy? You were the one grinding your cock into me earlier.” You tease as he removes his fingers and gives you a hard stare.

“I can stop you know.” He teases back with a mischievous smile as you whine and push your hips up, desperate to get him back to where you need him most.

“That’s what I thought.” He muttered as he lay himself down on the bed and your eyes widened as he brought his face closer to your dipping center.

“Fuck Yoongi.” You moan as he flattens his tongue against your slit and licks it all up.

You cry out and fist the sheets desperate to hold onto something and to ground yourself as Yoongi flicks his tongue over your clit causing you to cry out.

Yoongi works you with your tongue until you are a screaming sobbing mess under him. You feel your orgasm fast approaching and he must feel it too as he shoves two fingers deep inside of you and begin to scissor them, stretching you out as he licks and sucks at your clit.

Right when he curls his fingers deep inside you your body lets go and you arch up from the bed, his name falling like a prayer from your lips as your pussy clamps around his digits and you cum all over them and all over him as his tongue is still buried between your legs and his hair is tickling your thighs.

You come down and slump on the bed breathing heavily as you desperately try to catch your breath. You watch as Yoongi gently closes your legs and crawls up the bed towards you, his eyes sparkling as he shoves his pants and boxers down to free his hard, leaking cock. He throws them somewhere in the room as you giggle.

“So much better holy shit almost came in my pants tasting you.” He admits as his hand circles his cock and he strokes it slowly, trying to ease some of the built-up tension as you watch.

Yoongi’s skilled hand strokes and tugs at his cock, he takes his time with it letting out soft whines and moans with every pass of his fingers against the aching shaft.

“Fuck Yoongi, so hot.” You whimper as you close your thighs tightly trying to ease some of the ache between them.

Yoongi’s eyes travel down your body as he smirks when he sees your thighs clenching.

“One orgasm isn’t enough?” He asks releasing his cock and letting it smack against his stomach.

He crawls on top of you and uses his hands to spread your legs.

Your breath hitches when he leans down to press a soft slow kiss to your mouth and you reach up to tangle your hands into his sweaty hair.

“Hold them open for me. Let me grab a condom.” He whispers as he shimmies down the bed to grab his pants and digs through the pile of clothes to find his discarded phone.

His mouth draws up into a smirk when he checks the screen.

“Five missed calls from Namjoon. World record I think.” He teases as he grabs a condom from his wallet and throws his phone back down on the pile.

He takes his time rolling the condom on his hard length and you roll over to flick on the bedroom lamp casting the room in a warm glow.

"Is everything okay with Namjoon?” You ask as Yoongi crawls on the bed and positions his cock at your entrance.

“Yeah, he’s just… You know he’s our leader and he is the responsible one out of us. He feels like what we are doing isn’t the most responsible thing and is just worried.” Yoongi admits as he pushes his hair back from his face and stares you down.

“Does he know I signed a NDA contract? I legally can’t say anything…at all… ever?” You ask as Yoongi slides his cock head against your entrance coating it in your juices.

“Yeah, Taehyung told us that part it’s just… Namjoon you know. He worries a lot.” Yoongi admits with a fond look on his face.

“Sounds like he’s stressed out.” You tease as Yoongi lets out a laugh and slowly pushes his cock head inside.

The stretch is delicious and you open your legs wider to welcome him. He takes his time inching inside of you until he is fully sheathed and he pushes his forehead against yours and you both breathe heavily.

“Jin and Taehyung joked about that this morning. Couldn’t stop thinking about it. That’s why I’m here. And fuck was it a great decision. You’re so tight for me darling.” He mumbles as he presses soft kisses against your temple.

“Did you get hard in the studio? Thinking about me? Thinking about this?” You purr as Yoongi closes his eyes and shifts his hips rocking into you gently.

“You have no idea. Was fine when I was working on the song, the second Namjoon left. Fuck. Couldn’t stop thinking about it. Felt like I was in heat. Needed this soaked pussy so bad.” Yoongi growls as you feel his cock twitch inside of you and you moan.

“Please tell me I can move. Please.” Yoongi begs and when you nod he grins wickedly down at you.

Yoongi pulls his cock most of the way out and grabs your legs. Before you can process it he has your legs thrown over his shoulder and starts to pound into you harshly.

You grip the blankets for support as Yoongi’s hard cock drags against your walls. He is fucking you with so much enthusiasm you feel like you might go right through the headboard.

Yoongi is moaning above you and is hitting that spot deep inside of you that has you crying out his name and gripping the sheets harder.

“Yoongi fuck, please. F-fuck feels so good.” You cry out as he reaches down to play with your clit, his skilled fingers rubbing it in a way that has your orgasm fast approaching.

“Baby girl you feel so good around me, pussy so good I want to scream.” He growls as he shifts his hips and slams into you harder causing your pussy to clench around him.

“Gonna cum princess, gonna cream my cock and make a mess for me,” Yoongi says as you nod frantically, your whole body tensing as you feel your high fast approaching.

“Yoongi right there fuck! Please!” You beg, not even sure what you are begging for.

Your orgasm rips through your body as you arch up from the bed and cry out his name. Your pussy clamps tightly against his cock as Yoongi bends forward to kiss you and you feel his cock twitch and empty into the condom, he can hardly thrust into you as you continue to ride out your high.

“so so good baby. You did so good.” he praises as his lips find yours and he gives you soft slow kisses, his hair falls over his face to tickle your cheeks and you grab at his shoulders desperate to feel more of him

Once you both come down Yoongi pulls out and throws the condom away. He positions himself down on the bed beside you. His hands come to scrape his hair away from his face as he stares at you with a dopey grin.

You lean in and press a small kiss to his cheek as you get up to get a towel and use the washroom.

Once you get yourself cleaned up you head back to the bedroom and let out a soft giggle. Yoongi is spread out on the bed and fast asleep. One hand is resting on his stomach and his hair is a mess and his lips are parted as he softly snores.

You inch over to the bed and use your warm washcloth to wipe around his soft cock, careful not to wake him.

Once finished you throw the covers over his body and grab a big tee shirt to sleep in as you curl up next to him.

His arms wrap around you and he buries his face in your hair. You hear a content sigh leave his lips.

Right as you are about to doze off you hear a phone vibrating again and you bite back a laugh as you snuggle into the covers and fall asleep.

TAGLIST

@take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d

@m00njinnie

@minghaosimp

@madebyjungkookie

@iammeandmeisiam

@allie-is-a-panda