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Chocolate Milk 🐨
Ongoing fics
A Bond Made of Love 7️⃣🔞 by @purpleyoonn 💗
Long Way Home 🐰 by @sparklingchim 💗
hell is empty 🐰🐯🔞 by @aquagustd💗
I'm Not Yours 🐯 by @amourtae 💗
How To Sell Sunshine 7️⃣ by @alpacaparkaseok
The Way Of A Criminal 7️⃣ by @agustdakasuga
Lights, Camera & Action! 🐰 by @imsadstuff
Queen of Ice 🐰🔞 by @readyplayerhobi
No Fun 🐰🔞 by @bonny-kookoo
Hello Stranger 🐱 by @bonny-kookoo
Am I Cool Yet 🐰 by @bonny-kookoo
Can I Have a Hug? 7️⃣ by @minniepetals 💗
the platonic collection 🐹🔞 by @joheunsaram💗
not quite the same 🐰 by @whitesparrows97
how many 🐰🔞 by @yoon-kooks
Lost 🐰 by @bangtanficsforyou
Find the Flame 🐰🔞 by @minniesvenus
My Bestfriend Taehyung 🐯🔞 by @bebejungkook 💗
Stubborn Hugs 🐨 by @eternal-mikrokosmos 💗
Ongoing SMAUS
academic validation 🐰 by @jungkookschin
papercuts 🐰 by @strawbearytae
always, i’ll care 🐰 by @sunflowercds
What's Wrong With Manager Kim 🐱 by @jboofan
why we broke up by 🐰 by @jjeongukkie
Love You First 🐯 by @gentletaes
Just One Day 🐨 by @hobiheavenly
Feelings 🐰 by @bts-reveries
Summer 🐱 by @thottae
Safety Net 🐨 by @n4mina
perfect now 🐯 by @sftykth
When I’m with you 🐰 by @lachimolala7 🆕
Recently Completed
📝- written fic,📱- SMAU
"I thought you'd kill me by now" 7️⃣📝 by @minniepetals
All I Need Is Me 🐨📱 by @yonkimint
Just Friends 🐰📝 by @thottae
now we're even 🐰📱 by @smaubts
To Read
Love to Hate 🐰🔞 by @kpopfanfictrash 📝
Feelings 🐰 by @bts-reveries 📱
Other Fic Recs
(will fix in the future)
Search for #bts fic #bts fic rec #fav fic #to read on my blog 💕
Note: a lot of these are jungkook fics despite me being namseok biased,, and thats because most of the fics i find are jk fics lol i wish there were more for namseok especially but because i think they usually have the best stories but yeah i love them all anyway OT7 forever ♡♡
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.
hi everyone ! so i love reading bts fics, and angsty ones just hit the right spot like whew break my heart will ya !! anw, here are some fic recs that are super angsty (some have a happy ending and some don't)
idealizations concerning real life relations by @venusiangguk (jk x reader, fuckboy!jk x hopeless romantic!oc, fluff, smut, angst) - icrlr girlies rise up 😔✊🏽 this hit close to home so i really fuck w this fic yall, i like re-reading the angsty parts from time to time bc we stupid like that; will break your heart x100 this ain't for the faint of heart
the boy with galaxies in his eyes by @oddinary4bts (jk x female tattoo artist reader, fwb to lovers, idol!au, angst, smut, fluff) - besties its 52k words this got me crying till 4am likeee i don't usually cry while reading fics but this one got me fr... will break your heart then mend it back again don't worry ! abt two people who have been hurt in the past and are afraid to love again
colour me in (series; ongoing) by @taegularities (jk x reader, fwb, fake dating, college!au, fluff, smut, angst) - lykkk where do i even begin w this series i am hooked !!! and the writing is top tier.. as u can see i like the fwb trope a lot :D
4-7-8 (series; completed) by @jiminrings (jk x actress!reader, angst, fluff, they are married) - ohhhh hell the issue of this is - is it ok to be friends with your ex? 🤨 really angsty and this made me tear up
heartburn (series; completed) by ms jiminrings again (jimin x reader, ANGST, emotional cheating) - will literally give you heartburn so be prepared
full stop (series; ongoing) by @1oserjk (jk x ex wife!reader, they have a kid, angst, fluff ??) - about a divorced couple co-parenting and there's a lot of yearning and angst in between; hasn't been updated in like 3 years so if you're not up for that then that's okay, but it's such a good read and i still think abt this series a lot !!
pick & roll | la lakers by @xpeachesncream (nba player!jk x reader, fuckboy!jk, brother's best friend, angst, smut) - another fwb au are we surprised 😃 this hurt so good and it got me screaming at jk by the end of the fic
the love after (series; completed) by @ahundredtimesover (werewolf au, beta!jk x human!reader, angst, fluff, smut) - werewolf au !! also so refreshing to see jk as a beta instead of an alpha, really suits him, one quote to describe this series, "love heals all wounds"
Pairings: Actor!Jeongguk x Actress!Reader
Genre: nothing personal universe, enemies to lovers, fake dating
Word Count: 5.1k+ words
Summary: Letting Jeongguk see you in such a pitiful state was the least of your concerns now. You were just grateful you were alive and well, and that he was there to comfort and protect you.
( nothing personal series ) / ( masterlist )
Warnings: panic attacks, attempted assault
Chapter 3: Edging
Jeongguk was more than excited about owning his first-ever dog. However, he didn’t really know much about Doberman puppies nor did he have any idea how to take care of a pet as a first-time owner. Luckily for him, he can freely bombard you with questions, and with a few nudges here and there, he finally got you to agree and teach him how to slowly be a good owner.
“Do you have a routine of your own?” He nodded, “Then dogs are like that, too. You have set up their routines.”
He blinked briefly then shrugged, “I can just throw a ball and call it a day.”
Defeatedly sighing, seeing how hopeless it would be for him, you shook your head, “I meant waking up in the morning to walk and feed them, allotting your weekends for their bath, and so on.”
His mouth formed into an ‘o’ as he nodded with full understanding, “Okay, I think I got it.”
You don’t know how it happened or why it happened, but you found yourself agreeing to drop by his house every now and then.
In your defense, you wanted to make sure Bam settled comfortably in his new owner’s home, and you wanted to be more than certain that Jeongguk will definitely take good care of him. You’ve been sponsoring Bam’s treatments for the past 5 months prior to his adoption, and it would help you sleep better if he was well-taken care of.
The first time you visited his house, you figured it didn't look like he stayed for too long. Understandably so, he had a lot of shoots and tapings he needed to go to, so his home is practically inside a suitcase or his car. The only places in the house you assumed he frequented were his kitchen, his bedroom, and his personal gym.
Every time you visited, you always made sure to leave sticky notes as reminders in the most obscure places. On your first visit, you stuck a note on his toothbrush that wrote, ‘Brush Bam’s teeth with dog toothpaste.’ Three days after that, you left one under his toilet seat that wrote, ‘Time for Bam’s bath!’ And the latest one that you left on his forehead while he was asleep wrote, ‘Take Bam out for a walk.’ Jeongguk felt as though they were easter eggs for him to find, but looked forward to finding them.
A few weeks into being a fur dad, you had to commend Jeongguk for being a fast learner. Admittedly, Bam’s presence was making it easier for the both of you to have something to bond over other than rile each other up with sarcasm or death glares.
“I never asked you this, but what made you adopt him?” You threw the ball across his spacious living room. Both of you sat side by side and cross-legged on the carpeted floors.
“I don’t know. We were so alike in a sense where he was an unwanted pup, but now, someone wants him,” he took the ball and gave Bam a treat while chuckling. “Good boy,” Bam enjoyed getting unlimited pets from his new owner.
You snorted as you watched him throw the ball again, “How is that comparable to you?”
He shrugged, “I’m not everybody’s cup of tea. At least my agency still wants me…for now.”
Your smile faltered as silence enveloped the space both of you were in. You didn’t know how your presence in his life could benefit him and his image, but regardless, you felt satisfied knowing you were of help to him or anyone in that matter.
Breaking the awkward air, you asked, “Have you found any of my notes?”
“Yeah, I found one inside my blender this morning, but my favorite has got to be the one you froze in my ice tray,” he chuckled. He had to thank you for a lot of things, but he will never find the courage to do that. He watched your heavy lids flutter, then glanced over his wall clock, “It’s getting late now.”
You glanced at your watch and gasped when you found out that it’s already past ten, “No wonder I’m getting sleepy.”
His palms comfortably rested on his sides with legs sprawled, he scrunched his nose as he nodded at your adorable reaction. Gently, he tapped on your thigh, “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”
The rare domesticated moments that you shared with him were far better than the first few days of the setup. It must have been that getting a dog brought out the softer side of him. You also noted how he had grown to be more responsible now compared to the first time you had met him. If anything, the changes you saw were nothing but positive.
You were certain that even after the contract is over, you and Jeongguk could remain friends.
You, unfortunately, had to park your car outside his house, given that his garage was full of his other barely used cars. On the way to your car, he held the small of your back as he opened your door for you. Usually, he would go on his own way and forget that you were with him. These days, he seems to be more mindful of what he does when he’s with you.
His hand protected the top of your head as you slid yourself inside, “Thanks for helping me out with Bam.”
You giggled, “Call me if you need anything.”
He nodded and closed your door, then headed back to his porch to watch you leave. As soon as you adjusted your rearview mirror, a stranger in a hoodie smiled back at you. You sat there frozen, unable to pace your heartbeat properly. He just sat there comfortably in the backseat with a shit-eating grin. How he broke inside your car, let alone in this neighborhood, you didn’t know.
“Hello, Y/N,” he darkly chimed, making your thoughts scattered.
“W-what do you want,” you mumbled.
“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t bite,” he hissed, slowly inching close to you, “Unless you want me to.”
You mentally wanted to hit yourself for tinting your windows. When you glanced over at Jeongguk, he was still standing there with arms crossed, waiting for you to drive away. You shut your eyes tightly, hoping he would find something was off as to why you haven’t left yet.
“I bet you’re tight as a virgin,” he whispered in your ear.
Out of sheer panic, you slammed your fist on the steering wheel, making a loud honking noise that washed Jeongguk with so much distress. He didn’t exactly know why, but his body just moved on its own, legs rushing towards your car.
With so much haste, he opened your door to carefully pull you out, “Y/N, hey, it’s me. Open–” As soon as his gaze lifted over your shoulder, the stranger welcomed him with the same dark grin, “Son of a bitch!”
He gently set you aside, however, your legs gave out and you collapsed to the concrete.
With so much adrenaline coursing through him, he quickly opened the other door and dragged the stranger out of your car by the collar, “What the fuck do you want from her, huh?”
The stranger chuckled, “I just wanna have a taste, man.”
Jeongguk shot out a straight punch to his jaw, making a dull cracking sound as the man fell back to the ground. He then pulled him by his clothes again, straddling him for a better angle for his punches to land on.
“You think I’d let your musty hands touch her?” He landed a strong hit right in the man’s eyes that welled up in tears from the pain of his strike. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead as he breathed heavily, “All she’s been doing is edge me. You think she’d fuck someone like you?”
He threw another punch at his worn-out form, then spat on his face degradingly, “Fuck you.”
Your stalker could barely move and only groaned out his pains as he lay on the concrete. Jeongguk pulled out his phone to call the police, “Officer Lee? Yes, this is Jeon Jeongguk. Sorry for calling at this hour, I think I impaled my girlfriend’s stalker,” He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tilted his head back, “Can you check if he’s still alive?–Oh, okay. Ah, I see–yeah, I don’t really care if you lock me up. We both know I’d throw a good house party in a cell.”
On the corner, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to console your panic to subside. When his eyes landed on you, another wave of worry washed over him, making him end the call abruptly. He paced his strides, then crouched to your level.
“Y/N, it’s okay, he won’t hurt you anymore,” the back of his finger gently brushed your arm, afraid that even the slightest of his touch might worsen your panic.
Slowly peeling your eyes open, you looked at him through pools of tears, “J-Jeongguk?”
You didn’t know what came over you when you wrapped your arms around his neck as you sobbed uncontrollably, your weight shifting towards him that knocked his balance out. As both of you sat on the cold concrete, his arms snaked around you as he soothed the back of your head.
“I’m here, I got you,” he hushed ever so tenderly.
You buried your face in the crook of his neck, but he didn’t mind it at all. Instead, he pulled you in closer and held you tighter. From afar, both of you and the guy he had just injured looked like a scene from an action film. And like a damsel in distress, you found solace in his warm embrace.
It has been a while since Jeongguk’s alert heightened like this. The last time he did was back when he had a fight with his own abusive father, who beat him up when he didn’t land the role in one of the movies his dad eyed him for. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t fit the character the writers had envisioned, but he still tried just so he could satisfy him.
In no time, the police and ambulance rushed outside of his home. You were still shaken, but thanks to him, you had slightly calmed down. For sure, this experience will cause you a lot of sleepless nights and for your anxiety to worsen even more. Letting Jeongguk see you in such a pitiful state was the least of your concerns now. You were just grateful you were alive and well, and that he was there to comfort and protect you.
On the other hand, Jeongguk wasn’t sure if it was police protocol to call his manager whenever something related to him had happened or was it just because it was him who called. Regardless, he felt relieved to see Namjoon’s displeased face amongst the crowd of rescuers and officers.
“What did you do this time?” Namjoon coldly stared down at him as he towered over the both of you.
“The sick fuck deserved it,” his chuckles vibrated against your skin.
“I swear to god, if he comes after your ass in court, I can’t save you this time,” Jeongguk gulped, seeing how Namjoon really meant it this time.
Slowly turn your head, Namjoon’s gaze fell on your drained frame, “Jeongguk s-saved me.” Although you were extremely exhausted from crying, you mumbled, “P-please don’t get mad at him. It wasn’t his fault.”
Namjoon glanced over at Jeongguk with brows shot up, to which the artist nodded his head, vouching that what you had said was true. All Namjoon could do was sigh. At least this time, though he was still in the wrong for causing injuries, Jeongguk finally did something right.
“Ms. Shin Y/N?” Office Lee softly called, “I’m Officer Lee Hanbin of Seoul Police Station. We’d like to ask you a few questions regarding the incident for the police report.”
Jeongguk’s agitation grew, “Can’t you see she’s still shaken?”
Office Lee frowned, “Sorry, Mr. Jeon. It’s protocol.”
You timidly nodded your head, “I-It’s okay–uhm–what do you need?”
“Are you sure, Ms. Shin?” Again, you nodded. The officer felt bad for pushing, but it is what it is with work, “Could you recount what exactly happened before Mr. Jeon and Mr. Choi’s altercation?”
Your grip on Jeongguk’s shirt tightened, and so, his hand ran up and down your arm to comfort you, “I–uh–I was about to head home after spending time with my b-boyfriend and our new dog when…out of nowhere, Mister–uh–Choi caught me off guard in my car.” You took a deep breath before going on, “He didn’t t-touch me or anything because I panicked, and Jeongguk must’ve sensed something was wrong.”
“And then?” The officer carefully asked.
“I…I’m sorry I don’t remember the rest. My mind goes blank during a panic attack,” you bit your lip in embarrassment.
Office Lee sighed with a lowered head, “Mr. Jeon, do you by any chance have CCTV installed?”
Jeongguk nodded, “Yeah, we can go check the footage inside.”
Jeongguk gently lifted you to stand up, and without removing his arms around you, he slowly guided you to walk back inside his house. He took a glance at your stalker’s body being carried inside the ambulance. His brows knitted together, feeling as though he could have punched him harder after knowing that you were triggered because of him.
“He’s still alive, don’t worry,” The officer reassured him with a tap on his shoulder.
“I don’t know if I want that or not, but okay,” he tried to humor.
The officers and Namjoon watched the whole scene unfold. On the other side of the room, Jeongguk had securely wrapped you comfortably in his fleece blanket and had made you a cup of hot tea ready for you to drink that sat on top of the coffee table.
They saw how Jeongguk made sure you got inside your car safely, and how he rushed to get you out. Later on in the footage, they watched how the altercation happened from start to finish. The remaining hours left were just Jeongguk embracing you as he mumbled things against your hair.
Namjoon groaned over the fact that he had to take a few pictures and send it to the publicist. If he had a better option, he wouldn’t do it out of respect for what you had been through. But then again, if the agency lets go of Jeongguk, it would also mean for him to pack his things in a box.
“Thank you for your cooperation. We’ve got everything we needed,” Officer Kim and his team politely bowed and left.
Namjoon apologetically looked at both of your worn-out figures that were slumped over the couch, “I’ll get going now. It’s best for Y/N to stay here for the night until she feels better.”
Jeongguk sighed, “Thanks, hyung. Don’t worry.”
Namjoon was already halfway out the door when he turned his heel and called out for Jeongguk, “I’m glad you did the right thing.”
Jeongguk chuckled lowly as soon as the door clicked close. His brows rose when Bam wagged his tail at you; The puppy must’ve sensed your dejection that he waddled his tiny paws to see what was wrong.
“I should’ve taught you how to bite,” he gently lifted the puppy up, who quickly sniffed the both of you. “Y/N’s a bit sad. Mind cheering her up?”
The puppy merrily crossed from Jeongguk’s arms to get to you. You lifted your arms up slightly to welcome him in your lap, delicately running your fingers through his fur as you giggled, “Thanks, Bam.” You then peeked at Jeongguk through your lashes, “Thank you for being a protective boyfriend…and sorry for edging you.”
Jeongguk rolled his eyes, trying to stop a smirk from forming, “Do you ever shut up?”
Now that your adrenaline had dropped, you felt your body feel heavy as drowsiness finally took over you. Sensing that you were about to fall asleep, Jeongguk gently laid your head on his shoulder as his cheek rested on your head.
“Good night, Y/N and Bam,” he softly whispered as he also drifted to a deep slumber.
A bitter punishment for Shin Y/N’s stalker
An altercation between Y/N’s boyfriend, Jeon Jeongguk, and her stalker that was later identified as Choi Jin-ki, happened last night in the actor’s Yongsan-gu home tonight. Police have reported that Jeongguk had to protect Y/N from the stalker who broke into her car.
Hoseok spat out his coffee and hurriedly looked for Yoongi’s name in his contacts list. As soon as he found his name, he tapped on it, fuming in anger. It didn’t take long for him to have his call picked up.
“Is this about the article?” Yoongi greeted him flatly.
Hoseok grunted, trying to keep his frustration at a low, “Yoongi, didn’t I tell you that if something wrong happens to Y/N, I’m pulling her out of this deal?”
Yoongi lips set in a grim line, “You can’t do that, that would be breaching the contract both of you signed.”
Hoseok’s gears ground, “If I have to pay for it myself, then I will”
“How noble of you,” Yoongi chuckled, “Have you seen the comments?”
Hoseok’s brows furrowed as he scrolled through the comments under the article. Surprisingly, the public found Jeongguk’s actions justifiable. More comments flooded in from outraged women who found it alarming that celebrities like you aren’t safe from harassment.
“She’s safe with Jeongguk, isn’t that enough?” He remained silent, listening to Yoongi’s low chuckles over the phone, “Listen, if anything, things are going great. You don’t have to worry about them falling in love or anything. My boy doesn’t even know what the word means, and your girl’s too career-oriented to care about it.”
Hoseok sighed, “This is the last time we’re doing this, Yoongi. I mean it.”
This very same instance felt like the past had repeated itself. Three years ago, Hoseok agreed to partner one of his talents with Yoongi’s, which obviously, didn’t end very well for the two artists. It would be a surprise to know that NDA contracts contained bizarre conditions, one of them having to fake a marriage.
Hoseok still blames himself for contributing to his talent’s misery, so this time, he promises to be more protective of you, and never let go through the same path to turmoil.
Jeongguk rubbed his eyes at the sunlight that hit his face warmly. Blinking a few times, his vision finally adjusts to the empty spot where you slept. On his forehead, you stuck your note that read: Mr. Jung picked me up. Thank you x
A small smile grazes on his lips at the memory of how serene you looked while sleeping. His hazy memory flashbacked to the slope of your nose and thought it was cute. Then to your lips that looked soft, and how your soft-spoken voice sounded angelic – You were angelic to him…only when you’re asleep, that is. At least you got your much-deserved rest after a long night.
“Rough night?” His head instantly whips to the familiar voice. Sitting across the couch both of you had slept was his ‘favorite’ half-brother, smiling at him through his eyes as he sipped on his coffee. “Must’ve been a fun one, too.”
Glaring at his brother with squinted eyes, he modulated his voice almost in a whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming over?”
Jimin chuckled and nodded to where his younger brother’s phone was placed, “I did. Check your phone.”
Carefully peeling himself away from the couch, Jeongguk reached for his phone and scrolled through countless messages and missed calls from his agent, boss, and brother, making his brows furrowed in wonder as to why the endless buzzing didn’t wake up either of you.
“If I’m not mistaken, I called you over 109 times and left 80 messages,” Jimin adds.
“Fuck, the agency called,” he groaned in frustration, resting his elbows on his knees as he hung his head low.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all covered,” Jeongguk lifted his head at Jimin’s assurance. “I always do.” His gaze falls to the floor.
Jimin was always there to cover for him even when they were kids. He is the best brother anyone could ever wish for. Back in the times when he was still a rising child star, Jimin was always there to extend his full support and never missed a single go-see with him. Accompanying a kid when you’re a kid yourself is tough, but his brother always made it a point to never let it show it.
As they grew older and Jeongguk’s rise to fame, their once close bond grew further and further. Even when he’s been getting movies and series left and right, his father still compares them with each other – how Jimin had such a bright future ahead of him, and how he’s undeniably the smartest bulb in the shed and Jeongguk was not. The feeling of being inadequate made him resent the only person who cared for him.
If it weren’t for Jeongguk’s hefty income, Jimin wouldn’t have finished college and his parents wouldn’t have started a small business of their own. Sometimes he wished his father never remarried Jimin’s mother, then maybe things would’ve been a lot better. But then again, if none of that happened, he’d never have anyone like him growing up.
Everything he does is for Jeongguk and his welfare. If it weren’t for him being a celebrity, Jimin wouldn’t have taken up Public Relations as a major. Knowing it might come in handy in the long haul, he did. All for his brother. But Jeongguk doesn’t know that.
Jimin’s way of looking after him is cleaning up his mess from afar. That way he’s still his hyung – and that he did wonderfully. From switching the perspectives after Jeongguk’s bar altercation in Gangnam, penning generic emotional reasons he could think at the top of his head, to more indecencies that grew bigger over time, he managed it all under control.
“How was it last night?” Jimin’s eyes fell on his slumped figure and the mess that was a pool of pillows and Jeongguk’s favorite blanket. ‘His favorite blanket?’ His brows rose, silently looking at his younger brother knowing it must’ve been very stressful for him to pull it out.
“Fucking terrible. She almost got assaulted,” he groaned at the memory. “It’s good I was there before anything bad happened.”
Jimin smiles at him fondly, “I never thought I’d see the day where you change.”
Jeongguk lifted a brow, “What do you mean?”
Jimin shrugs and picks up Bam as he relaxes in his seat, “You got a dog, which has always been your dream, and you care.”
“I don’t wanna sound fake deep and shit, but that bastard scared her, alright? She was shaking violently when I held her and–” Jeongguk stops mid-sentence, realizing he was defending himself too much. “–and…and what about it? I need her for my image clean-up, and so does she for her career. Isn’t this what we signed up for?” he retorts further, making Jimin sigh.
Not wanting to bear any more emotional interrogation, he stands up and walks to the kitchen, “Catch me with a bowl of cereal if you need anything else from me.”
Jimin’s eyes followed Jeongguk as he disappeared. Scratching the dog’s head lovingly, he coos with a soft voice, “Your dad’s too dense, isn’t he?” The puppy whimpers and rubs its head further in his hands, making him chuckle with delight, “Right? Such a thick-skulled brat.”
Care. That was a word that no one could associate with the name Jeon Jeongguk and all he could think about on the way to grab his breakfast.
He is the most reckless person the nation had ever seen and looked like he didn’t bat a single lash for his own welfare. Ironically, that was something he was slowly developing – he cared for you, although he hasn’t come around to the full realization yet. On the other hand, Jimin has always been quick to catch on to things and seems to be enjoying the slow change in his brother. After all, baby steps are still considered progress.
It’s funny how Jeongguk spent a good 30 minutes trying to look for your notes like a madman until his hunger finally took over. Settling himself comfortably with his bowl of cereal, he zones out briefly. ‘I’m really about to get fired and lose all my shit, and I barely even care.’ It wasn’t a surprising realization and he was okay with the outcome, though part of him worried about it.
Catching himself in an aimless trance once again, he blinks until he finally spots your note in the dishwasher – scratch that, it wasn’t only a note, you also left cash, making him squint his eyes further to make sure he was seeing correctly. Once he walked up to it and it took out, his forehead creased.
“Chew your food properly, Jeongguk.” Jimin snickers as he enters the kitchen, knowing how his brother still had food in his mouth. Looking at the few dollar bills and a note on his brother’s hand, he raises his eyebrows at him, “What’s that? Child support for Bam?”
Jeongguk looks at him seriously, still chewing his cereal, “That’s not a bad idea. Think we could add that to the contract?”
“You can’t be serious,” he only shrugged at Jimin and went back to his seat. Maybe his hopes of his brother changing for the better were too soon. “You’re filthy rich, you don’t need any kind of financial support.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate freebies and discounts,” he ignores his older brother’s grunts and continues to eat.
Propping himself a seat, Jimin sighs tiredly, “You’re impossible”
“I’ve been told countless times.” While Jimin’s face fell to a frown, Jeongguk hummed as he scrolled through the online news, “How do you consider this as a clean-up?”
Jimin rolled his eyes at his brother, who flashed his phone right in his face, “I’m not sure by how much your reading comprehension is, but if you read the article thoroughly, you’ll notice how I saved your ass by leaning it towards you being the protective boyfriend.” Jeongguk scoffs at how his deed is seen as heroic when anyone with morals would do the same. “Look at the other articles, people are calling you the knight in sleeve tattoos.”
He thinks it’s absurd to be painted as such, so he just hums at every key Jimin pointed out. Crazy how everyone instantly forgot how much they hated his existence. There is an old proverb that goes something along the lines of a child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth – and that he did. Jeongguk wreaked havoc, not for all the pent-up anger, but the slightest bit of care anyone gave him.
Whether it was good or bad, he didn’t mind as long as he was looked after. Though now, Jeongguk couldn’t give a single fuck of what anyone thought of him anymore even if he tried. It’s like he just woke up and stopped feeling the need to want any sort of attention.
“You know, it’s such a sight to see you handling the situation better than everyone expected,” Jeongguk nonchalantly looked at his older brother. “More so, it was of you to look after Y/N after what had happened.”
He clicked his tongue, “Come on, hyung. You’d do the same thing if something happened to someone you knew.”
“Right.” Jimin would definitely get back at anyone who dares to hurt his brother. Scanning his younger brother’s features, he wondered if he was okay, “Were you hurt? Any bruises and scratches?”
Jeongguk smirked, “On the creepy bastard? A lot.”
“Not your first time, though,” Jimin says matter of fact.
And there was silence.
None of them didn’t know how to talk to each other anymore other than work. Jimin always kept an eye on him while Jeongguk kept everyone on their toes. A simple ‘how was your day’ also meant it would be followed up with a ‘how do you keep fucking things up?’ As the years went by, Jimin no longer felt like his brother – he somehow demoted himself to a distant relative.
Breaking the silence, Jimin clears his throat, “How are your parents doing?”
Lifting a brow at him, never in a million years would Jeongguk hear his brother ask such a question, “You mean our parents? Enjoying the fruits of my labor, what else do you think?” He chuckled, knowing full well where Jimin was coming from. “You know, they wouldn’t rely on me if you didn’t cut off communication.”
Jimin frowns at him, “I know, I'm sorry.”
Not wanting to talk about family matters at the same table as him, Jeongguk stands up to bring his dishes to the sink, “It's fine, hyung. I’d do the same if I were in your shoes.”
“And you’ve been trying to do it too,” he froze in the middle of his washing. That’s all he ever wanted – run away from the shackles of his tiger dad and be as free as his brother.
He blinks, still wrapping his head around Jimin’s short answer because it was the truth. “I– yes... badly.”
“Understandable,” Jimin nods.
Jeongguk’s rebellion started in adolescence. The feeling of being left out and missing a huge chunk of his childhood and teenage years grew immensely as the years went by. He had begged his parents to enroll him in a regular school but they always reasoned that homeschooled was better for him, given that his tapings were hectic.
On-screen, he is the confident person they all wanted to see from him. When the cameras stop rolling, he couldn’t even strike a proper conversation that was not about himself or his work. He didn’t know how to blend in with people from all walks of life, all he knew was to act. Act that he’s completely fine with his life, act that the most mundane of things regular people did never made him jealous, and act as if he is playing a lifelong character for as long as he lives.
“I have pudding in the fridge if you want one,” he tries to change the topic and Jimin knows this.
“Cool.” Jimin shrugged.
Jeongguk squinted his eyes, a smirk slowly forming on his lips, “The chocolate ones.”
“Oh fuck,” Jimin’s eyes grew wider, and hurriedly ran to the refrigerator.
It’s the little interactions like these that bring back the fond memories they both shared growing up – bonding over chocolate was one of many. He smirks as he watches his brother take out two cups of pudding all at once.
Aaahh some character development 🥺🥺 and theyre getting closer !! And jikook also slowly mending their relationship 🥺 that stalker thing is so fricking scary pls so glad jk was there 😭
RATING/GENRE: 18+, college AU, Established relationship, smut, angstt, fluff
WC: 20k
WARNINGS: a cringy nickname, sorry, not sorry, babes, manhandling, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, unprotected sex, jk is kinda toxic but he's working on it, make up sex, JEALOUSY, Jisung is kinda toxic too, Jennie being iconic, talk about potential cheating, Oc finally setting boundaries (as she should)
SYNOPSIS: Jisung still has feelings for you, even though he'll never admit it. So when he starts dating someone who looks way too much like you, and then shows up unannounced on the same day that Jungkook does, well, let's just say Jungkook is done playing games.
💞💭Quick reminder that comments and asks help the author stay motivated💞💭
AN: This was a bit challenging to write. It's okay though, we all have those moments of struggle. Just a quick note, the angst in this one definitely sets a darker tone for their relationship. So, it might not be all sunshine and rainbows from here on out, but that's what makes it interesting, right?
"Look what you've done"
"I'm a motherfuckin' starboy"
Jungkook was good at sex. We're talking 3 orgasms minimum by just foreplay. The guy could fuck you into the next day and after he'd even have stamina for another round.
But he was more than just that.
The way his lips parted as he moved in a sensual rhythm was downright mesmerizing.
You couldn't help but get lost in the moment everytime he explored every inch of your body with a passion and intensity that left you breathless. The chemistry between the two of you was undeniable, and you knew that this was it, Jungkook was it for you.
Now, when we talk about Jungkook, it's not just about his charm and good looks, but also the way he carries himself in all situations. His presence is so reassuring that you instantly feel at ease around him. Whether you are in a crowded room or a quiet coffee shop, Jungkook has a way of making you feel comfortable and taken care of.
It's not just a physical attraction, but a deeper emotional connection that he creates with you every time your eyes meet.
The current situation, though..., yeah, it's a bad example of your relationship, and it is difficult to imagine things getting any worse than they are right now.
“You're blowing this way out of proportion. That was from 4 months ago! Jisung told me he's moved on from that incident and he's even dating a girl now,” you say as you turn to scowl at him, hastily pacing around your apartment.
“I don't understand why you're making such a big deal out of this,” you finish with a huff, deciding to lean against the kitchen counter and cross your arms.
Jungkook, clad in a black leather jacket and baggy jeans, fidgets with the silver hoop piercing his lower lip, his eyes scanning your face with a hint of amusement. After a brief moment of observation, he finally opens his mouth to respond to you.
His frustration was palpable, his voice rising with a mix of anger and desperation. "He's sending you shirtless photos of himself! How can you say this is nothing?" he repeated, emphasizing each word as if trying to drive home a point. For him, it was clear that this sort of behaviour was unacceptable, especially from someone who wasn't him.
He had always been a protective boyfriend, but in situations like these, his jealousy often got the best of him. And yet, despite his anger, a small part of him couldn't help but wonder if he was in the wrong, if maybe his protective instincts were causing him to see things that weren't there.
Rolling your eyes, you take a deep breath to calm your rising irritation.
“He was just showing off the new tattoo he got on his chest. There's nothing for you to worry about. Jisung and I are just friends, and you getting jealous over nothing is really annoying.”
You push off from the counter, the cool marble sending shivers down your arms, and stride over to Jungkook, your heart racing with anticipation. As you approach him, you can feel your palms start to sweat, and you take a deep breath to steady yourself. You place your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt, as you peer up at him imploringly.
You can see the indecision in his eyes, but you know that you need to convince him. You start to speak, your words tumbling out in a rush. “Please stop worrying over this. You know you're the only one for me.”
You can see the emotions playing across his face, and you know that you are getting through to him. Finally, he nods, and you feel a surge of relief and joy flood through you.
At your words, the tension seems to seep out of Jungkoon's shoulders. He pulls you into his embrace, resting his chin on the top of your head.
“I'm sorry. I just don't want to lose you.” His words are muffled but you can hear the hint of vulnerability in his tone. Your heart softens, and you wrap your arms around his waist.
“You won't lose me. I'm yours, and yours alone.”
Jungkook's words were laden with a sense of defeat as he spoke, "I know that." He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts that plagued him. He clenched his fists, his frustration obvious. "But how can I not be jealous when he literally told you he loved you just a few months back?"
It's understandable that Jungkook feels this way. After all, romantic feelings are complicated, and it can be difficult to control emotions, especially when one's heart is on the line.
You bury your head in his neck, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. As he hums, you can't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. His arm reaches around your waist, holding you close, and you can feel your heart rate slow down. You find yourself wishing that you could stay in this moment forever.
You whisper to him, "I'm never gonna leave you," and you can feel him smile against your skin. "Never," he responds.
"What's up fuckers?" Taehyung singsang as he enters Jungkook's apartment, separating the both of you as you stare at him. You were surprised to see Taehyung there, as you had not seen him in days.
"How did you-" you start, turning to look at Jungkook in question. Jungkook just sighs and looks at Taehyung deadly in the eyes. You could tell that Jungkook was upset at the interruption, as the two of you were in the middle of discussing something important.
Taehyung seems to sense the tension and quickly tries to make amends. "Sorry, man. I didn't mean to interrupt anything important. I just wanted to catch up with you guys."
Jungkook's expression softens slightly, but he still seems annoyed. "It's fine, Taehyung. Just give us a few minutes to finish up here."
As Jungkook's arms find your waist, pulling you closer, he gives you a long, passionate kiss. The feeling of his lip piercing against your lips adds an extra thrill.
"Done"
After breaking the kiss, Jungkook turns to grab a drink from the kitchen while you walk over to where Tae is sitting on the couch. You can feel your cheeks flush as you sit down next to him, still feeling the warmth of Jungkook's embrace.
You take the opportunity to ask Taehyung what he's been up to lately. He launches into a long story about his recent trip to Daegu, describing all the things he did there with his family like celebrate his younger brothers brithday. You listen intently, smiling at the older boy.
-
“and then I took her out on a date, you know that sushi place I took you for your birthday” Jisung says over the phone as you work on your chemistry homework, smiling to yourself remembering your 17 birthday party that you celebrated with him. Back then you didn't have many friends, him being the exception.
You and Jisung have been friends since kindergarten, and still, you remember the first day you met him in 2th grade when he offered to help you carry your backpack. Since then, you two have been inseparable. You've shared many experiences together, including your 17th birthday party at the sushi place that Jisung took his date to. It's amazing how time flies, and now Jisung is finally dating someone.
Amidst your chemistry homework, you take a few minutes to chat with Jisung about his date and catch up on each other's lives. You tease him about his imaginary girlfriend from 7th grade, and he laughs it off, happy to finally have someone real in his life.
"Anyway, enough about me," Jisung laughs, settling back against his pillow. "How are you and Jungkook?" he asks, peering at you through the phone screen. You let out a contented sigh at the mention of your boyfriend's name, placing your pen down on the desk beside you.
"We're doing really well," you say, feeling a warm glow spread through you. "In fact, we've been talking about moving in together." You pause, letting the words sink in. "It's a big step, but we're both really excited about it. We've been looking at apartments and trying to figure out what we want in a new place. It's kind of overwhelming, but in a good way... you know?"
Jisung nods approvingly, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'm really happy to hear that things are coming together for you guys," he says. "It's great to see you guys lile this." You smile back, feeling a sense of pride in your relationship with Jungkook.
You close your notebook and lay down on the bed next to a sleeping Jungkook. "I really appreciate your support, Jisung," you say, feeling a rush of gratitude. "It means a lot to have someone who supports me." With that, you bid Jisung goodbye and promise to talk to him tomorrow, sending him off with a warm "love ya." As you curl up next to Jungkook and drift off to sleep.
After ending the call, Jisung leaned back on his bed and let out a sad sigh. He loves hearing from you, but it's always hard to say goodbye. He couldn't help but feel a bit lonely after the call ended, wishing that you could spend more time together.
Despite the distance, Jisung always tries to make the most out of your conversations, cherishing every moment you get to talk. "I love you too Y/n", he said after ending the call.
"Y/n?" Jungkook's sleepy voice broke the silence as he woke up a little after you climbed into bed with him. You were snuggled up next to him, playing with his hair. "Hm?" You hummed in response, looking into his eyes, which slowly opened to look at you. "I just wanted to say that I love you." he murmured, leaning into your touch.
You smiled back at him, feeling your heart swell with happiness. As you drifted back to sleep, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace and contentment, knowing that you were loved and cherished by someone as special as Jungkook.
-
“We have to leave in 10 minutes Kook- ah!” You moan as he mercilessly pounds into you, his breath heavy as his lips connect to your neck, leaving bruises all over. Despite your protests, he continues, the lust in his eyes and the strength of his grip on you intensifying. Your mind begins to race with thoughts of the consequences of being late to the apartment tour you had today, but your body betrays you as you become more and more consumed by the pleasure he is giving you.
"It's fine, I know the owner of the place, we're fine if we're late," he groans, landing a slap on your ass as he keeps on fucking you against the shower wall. You feel his hot breath on your neck as he whispers into your ear, "You know, I've been thinking about this all day." He chuckled, "the way your body feels against mine, the way you moan with pleasure, it's like a drug to me. And I can't get enough of it."
You can't help but feel a shiver run down your spine at the intensity of his words. As he pounds into you, you try to keep your thoughts from wandering, but it's no use.
As you find a hold on the wall, feeling his dick filling you up in all the right places, you couldn't help but think of all the times you had been in this exact position. You knew he was big enough to make it hurt a little, but that was just part of the pleasure. And when you finally reached that climax, it was always so good that you couldn't help but moan out loud.
As you moaned out his name and felt your body start to tremble with pleasure, you knew that this was just the beginning.
When you grip onto his hair, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You moan out his name, and he responds by thrusting harder and faster. Finally, you feel it - that intense rush of pleasure that sends you over the edge. Your body convulses as you come, and he follows soon after, groaning your name as he spills his seed inside of you.
As you both come down from your high, you can't help but smile. This was exactly what you needed - a moment to forget about everything else and just focus on each other.
After a few minutes of kissing, you take a deep breath and say "We need to leave". Grabbing a towel to dry yourself off and head to your closet, you get dressed.
Jungkook, who came over in his own clothes, starts getting dressed too and as he puts on his shirt, he smiles and says "I can't wait until we live together so I won't have to leave clothes at your place anymore". You smile back at him, feeling happy and excited at the thought of sharing your life with him. "Me too"
-
"So the apartment is located on the 20th floor. You can find the elevator directly in the center of the lobby." The saleswoman, likely in her mid-40s, directs her speech primarily towards Jungkook rather than you, as she explains.
She continues, speaking in a familiar tone, "You'll have a stunning view of the city from up here. It's an ideal place to live, especially for someone of your youth." Again, she smiles in a way that seems more like a smirk, gazing at Jungkook - your boyfriend. Her obvious favoritism towards him elicits an annoyed eye roll from you.
You had only ended up being around 10 minutes late to the showing, but in that short time, she has already formed a preference for Jungkook as she speaks to him as if he's the only one possibly buying the apartment.
While her bias is irritating, you remain focused on evaluating the apartment itself. After all, you and Jungkook had agreed to make this decision together based on your shared priorities. Her opinion has no bearing on whether or not this 20th floor unit with its enviable city views is the right choice for the two of you. But it is.
Jungkook gently hums as he wraps his arm around your waist, glancing down at his expensive designer watch before meeting your gaze with a soft smile. "My girlfriend absolutely adores studying by the window, so this place would be perfect for her," Jungkook explains, emphasizing the fact that the two of you were in a relationship, even if it had been obvious right from the start.
"I see," the woman whose name you had forgotten murmurs with a nod, leading the two of you over to the entrance and holding the door open.
You find yourself gazing upon a spacious and charming entrance, decorated with a few silk flowers that give the space a warm and welcoming feel.
“Woah” you gasp in awe, captivated by the bright and warm ambiance of the apartment. “I already adore it,” you exclaim as you turn to face Jungkook, who is still clinging to you affectionately. “You like it?” Jungkook scrunches his nose up, rubbing it against your hair as he lets out a contented sigh.
The woman clears her throat to gain your attention, ushering you further inside as she shows off a spacious and stunning kitchen and living room. You had viewed a couple of apartments prior to this one, but you just knew in your heart that this was the place you were meant to call home.
A wave of excitement washes over you at the prospect of decorating this place and filling it with joy and laughter alongside the love of your life. You spin around to face Jungkook once more, throwing your arms around his neck as you pepper his face with grateful kisses. “It’s perfect,” you whisper against his lips, your heart overflowing with happiness. Jungkook simply smiles into the kiss, holding you closer as the real estate agent looks on with an annoyed expression, undoubtedly wishing she was you. But who could blame her? Jungkook was perfect.
“Great,” she interrupted your blissful moment together, sauntering closer and retrieving some official-looking documents from her folder to hand over to Jungkook, since as the responsible and financially stable one in your relationship, he would be covering the rent payments until you were able to land a steady job that provided a sufficient income.
“You have 30 days to review and sign these,” she stated matter-of-factly, briefly glancing over at you, though your attention was fully captured by the stunning view of the city skyline from the apartment’s large windows.
Jungkook took the papers and nodded, his face betraying no hint of concern over the financial burden and responsibility he was about to shoulder. His expression remained as radiant as always in your presence. For a fleeting moment, you felt a pang of guilt over your current lack of income and financial instability. But Jungkook, perceptive as always, seemed to sense your worries and reached out to gently squeeze your hand, a silent reassurance of his love and support.
Picking up a call, the real estate agent hurriedly explained that she had to leave for another appointment but to just lock up the house when you were done viewing it.
“This is insane,” you muttered against Jungkook’s shoulder, kissing it lightly. “I can’t believe we’re actually...” you paused, struggling to find the right words.
“Becoming real adults?” Jungkook finished your sentence, pulling you into an embrace.
As the reality of it all started to sink in, a mix of emotions flooded over you. Excitement at this next step in our relationship, nervousness about such a huge life decision, but most of all, a deep affection for the man by your side who had been with you through all the ups and downs of the past few months.
“Do you think we’re really ready for this?” you asked softly, your anxiety getting the better of you.
“As ready as we’ll ever be,” he replied, gently squeezing your hip. “We’ve got this, Baby.”
His reassurance calmed your anxiety, and as you wandered through the empty house, you began to picture filling it with memories over time; Movie nights on the couch, lazy Sunday mornings making breakfast at 10—maybe even the pitter-patter of tiny feet someday.
-
“Can you believe we only have a couple months of school left?” Jennie exclaims as she collapses onto your bed, a wide grin spreading across her face.
“I know, it’s crazy to think this is all almost over,” you reply absentmindedly, still focused on reviewing your chemistry notes in preparation for the midterm exam tomorrow.
“We have to plan a massive party for when we’re finally done with this whole degree,” Jennie continues. “Like a whole night of bar-hopping and getting completely smashed. We deserve it after all the hard work we’ve put in over the years.”
Raising a brow, you turn to her. "You mean that I've been putting into it? All you ever did was copy my notes. " You laugh.
Shaking her head and laughing, she nods defeated "whatever you always got free food when we went to lunch together, so it's only fair"
"...so the party?" She asks again, wiggling her brows
You nod in agreement, “Definitely. Let’s plan something big to celebrate us finally earning our degrees. Maybe we can get the group together and rent one of those party buses to take us around the city?”
Jennie’s eyes light up. “Yes, that would be perfect! A night of debauchery with all our friends before we head off into the ‘real world.’ This is going to be iconic!”
Her enthusiasm is contagious, and you can’t help but smile. But for now, you have to focus on the present, like the pile of notes in front of you and the looming midterm that could make or break your chemistry grade this semester. The party can wait, you tell yourself, but it certainly will be a night to remember.
The incessant ringing of your phone shatters your intense concentration as you feel your pen slip from your grasp and clatter onto the table. Glancing down, you notice the caller ID reads "Jungkook" chuckling softly to yourself. You press the green button and put the call on speaker, eager to hear his beautiful voice.
"Babe, what's up?" You ask, leaning back into the plush cushions of the chair.
"Hey prettiest girl in the entire world," he answers without missing a beat, eliciting a laugh from you and an exaggerated gag from Jennie in the background.
Your best friend shakes her head in amusement and mouths "you two are gross" before returning to her phone.
Grinning, you reply, "Aren't you just the sweetest? To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" You smirk to yourself
Jungkook's honeyed tone flows from the speaker like music to your ears. "Can't I just call to hear the sound of my girlfriend's lovely voice?"
"You're too smooth for your own good," you tease. "But really, what's going on?"
"Well," he begins, a hint of sheepishness seeping into his voice, "The guys and I were wondering if you and Jennie wanted to grab dinner with us tonight?"
Your heart swells at the invitation. It's the little things like this that make you fall even deeper in love with him.
"We'd love to!" Jennie exclaims from your bed. "Just tell us where and when."
The smile is evident in Jungkook's reply. "Great! We were thinking that new Korean BBQ place at 7. Does that work?"
"It's perfect," Jennie assures him. "We'll see you then-"
“Hey wait-” you say quickly, trying to stop Jennie in her tracks before she agrees even more and make you feel even guiltier for saying no. “Jungkook, I really can't today. You know I have my midterm exam in chem tomorrow, and I haven't even started studying until today. I'm so behind, and if I don't do well on this test, I'll fail the class.” You sigh, feeling torn between spending time with your boyfriend and doing well in your classes. “I'm sorry, I really can't mess this one up. My GPA is suffering enough as it is this semester.”
Jungkook frowns, though you can't see, clearly disappointed, but you can tell he also understands. As much as he hates you stressing over your grades, he knows how important your education is to you and would never want you to jeopardize that. “I get it, don't worry about it,” he says, "We can get dinner this weekend to celebrate after you ace that test, okay?”
You smile gratefully. “Thank you for understanding. I'll make it up to you, I promise!”
"I love you"
"Love you"
The call ends with a contented sigh. You turn to Jennie, who is watching you with a knowing look.
"You two are gross," she teases, but the fondness in her tone gives her away.
"Oh hush," you laugh, gathering your things. "Let me study now"
-
“Y/n I'm bored” Jennie speaks up after two hours of silence as you try to memorise as much chemistry as you could. “Me too, this chemistry studying is really dragging on,” you sigh, stretching your back and rolling your neck after what feels like an eternity hunched over your textbook and notes.
“Should we take a break and order some food? What about sushi? I'm kinda hungry and could really use a change of scenery,” she proposes, making you nod enthusiastically. “Sushi sounds amazing right now, and you're absolutely right, I could use a mental break from all this chemistry cramming. As long as you're paying,” you point a finger at her teasingly with a wry grin.
She laughs and playfully swats your hand away. “Fine, I'll pay for the sushi this time, but you're treating me to froyo tomorrow!”
Your stomach rumbles loudly in anticipation and you smile, already daydreaming about the spicy tuna rolls and seaweed salad you're about to devour. “You've got yourself a deal. Now let's close these chemistry books and get some food, I'm starving!” you exclaim, hastily packing up your study materials.
As the two of you wait for your food, Jennie tilts her head down at her phone, causing you to frown in concern.
"What's up?" you ask, peeking down at her phone when she turns it to show you. On the screen is a picture from Jisung's Instagram - it shows him with a girl, and the caption reads "🫶🫶".
"Who is that?" Jennie asks, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"That's probably the girl he's been spending so much time with lately," you respond with a grin, pleased that things seem to have finally fallen into place for your closest friend. Jisung hadn't called you in a couple of days, so this girl was likely the reason for his radio silence.
At first, you were a bit concerned that she might not reciprocate his feelings or treat him well, but after listening to Jisung talk so much about her, your worries faded. It was clear that they shared something great, and you were overjoyed at the thought of your friend finding someone who made him happy.
Jennie appears to consider this for a moment before nodding slowly. "Strange," she then says, shaking her head as she continues scrolling through her phone.
"What's strange?" you ask.
"Just..." she starts, biting her lip. "Don't you think she looks a lot like you?"
You pause, studying the photo more closely. Now that Jennie mentions it, there is something familiar about the girl's features - her hair, her smile, the shape of her face.
A sense of unease starts to creep over you as the implications of the resemblance dawn on you. Could Jisung's interest in this girl have something to do with his feelings for you that he told you have had faded? You push the thought away, not wanting to read too much into a simple photo on Instagram.
"I'm sure it's just a coincidence," you say lightly, though you can't ignore the seed of doubt that has been planted. "Jisung and I are just friends - he's free to date whoever he wants."
The thought kept swirling through your mind all night, and you knew that if you told Jungkook about Jisung's new girlfriend looking like well... you he would completely lose it.
“This is such a mess,” you groan, tossing and turning in your bed as you struggle to fall asleep. You had your most important midterm exam tomorrow and if that stress wasn't already keeping you awake, Jisung's Instagram post was certainly doing the trick now.
You debated whether you should warn Jungkook about the uncanny resemblance between you and Jisung's new flame. While you knew it might cause some temporary discomfort, you also didn't want him to be caught off guard if he happened to see a photo of the two of them together.
After what seemed like hours of debating the issue in your mind, you finally came to the conclusion that it would probably be better coming from you than through a surprise encounter on social media.
Picking up your phone, you see the time 2am blinking on the screen. Shit, there went your hopes of getting a full 8 hours of sweet, uninterrupted sleep tonight. Whatever this was, it seemed more important now. Taking a deep breath, you dialled his number with slightly trembling fingers, not even knowing where to begin.
After a few rings, you heard his raspy, sleepy voice answer, “Hello? Y/n?” He had probably been fast asleep, and you just woke him up. Guilt started to creep in, but you pushed it aside, knowing you needed to talk to him.
“Kook,” you replied softly, biting your lip nervously. There was a brief pause before he spoke again, his voice laced with concern. “Baby? What's wrong? Did something happen?”
You hesitated, unsure of how to explain the turmoil of emotions swirling within you. “I- yes and no?” you answered lamely. “I mean, nothing happened exactly, but I just...I couldn't sleep, and I kept thinking about us, and I just really needed to hear your voice.”
After some reflection, you came to the realization that it was unfair to jump to conclusions about Jisung's girlfriend based on one photo. Perhaps she simply looked similar to you in that one instance, and there could be a multitude of reasons for that resemblance.
“Oh baby, it's okay,” he soothed gently. “I'm here now. Talk to me.” His words comforted you and you felt the anxiety that had been building up start to fade away, grateful as always for his presence in your life.
You sigh, feeling the weight of the past two days without seeing your boyfriend. As you play with your hair, you try to shake off the feeling of longing that has been growing within you. Jungkook has finished his degree, so he has not been on campus much lately, leaving you feeling disconnected and alone. "I miss seeing you," you say, trying to convey the depth of your emotions. "It's been hard juggling all my classes, especially chemistry. It's really kicking my butt." You pause, trying to gauge Jungkook's reaction. "And," you ad hesitantly, "I miss your face?"
Jungkook laughs on the other end of the phone, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you, even as you continue to yearn for his presence. As the conversation continues, you try to keep your emotions in check, not wanting to appear too needy or desperate for his attention. At the same time, you know that you need to express your feelings and let him know how much he means to you.
Jungkook hangs up for a second, leaving you feeling confused and wondering if you had said or done something wrong. But your confusion is short-lived as he calls you back, this time on FaceTime so you can see him.
You can't help but notice how messy his hair is and how his eyes are barely open. But as soon as he speaks, your heart skips a beat. His deep, raspy voice fills your ears, and you feel your cheeks flush with a warm blush. "Hi baby," he says, his lips parting into a smile. You can't help but smile back, feeling your heart flutter at the sound of his voice. "Hi," you reply, your own voice filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
As you sit there in silence playing with the hem of your shirt, he looks at you with a concerned expression. After a few moments, he speaks up and says, "I feel like there's something more on your mind."
You let out a sigh, still avoiding eye contact, and reply, "It's nothing, just me being me." However, deep down, you know there is more to it than that.
“you don't have to tell me now baby, you wanna hang out tomorrow? Maybe we can start looking for furniture for our new place” he says as he tries to make you feel comfortable despite his absence. He knows that finals can be overwhelming, but he wants to be there for you every step of the way.
You smile at him through the phone and nod, “sounds good, I'd like that”. You're grateful to have him by your side during this exciting and nerve-wracking time. As you hang up the phone, you start to think about all the possibilities that come with having your own place. You can finally decorate it the way you want and create a space that truly feels like home. Maybe you can look up some inspiration online or visit some local furniture stores to get an idea of what you want. You feel a wave of excitement wash over you as you look forward to starting this new chapter in your life with the person you love.
-
Jungkook's strong fists relentlessly pounded the punching bag, his muscles rippling with each powerful strike. As he exhaled deeply, beads of sweat formed on his forehead, an obvious display to the intensity of his morning workout routine. After sending you a quick and encouraging "good luck ❤️" text, he had made his way to the gym to start his day.
With his shirt off, his toned abs were on full display, the results of his dedicated commitment to fitness. It was clear that Jungkook was determined to maintain his peak physical condition, no matter what challenges or exhausting workouts he had to do.
While Taehyung was lost in his own thoughts, running on the treadmill. Jungkook's mind was preoccupied with something else, however, as he couldn't help but think about the phone call he received from you the previous night at 2am. He felt like he might be reading too much into it, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something important was on your mind that night.
Taehyung noticed that Jungkook was more tense than usual, especially with the boxing, and decided to ask him about it. "What's gotten you so worked up today?" he asked. Jungkook cracked his knuckles and shrugged. "I don't know, man. Maybe I'm just overthinking things, but that phone call from Y/n has been on my mind."
Taehyung could relate to what his friend was feeling. "Jihyo does that too sometimes. Girl gets lonely," he said, trying to put things into perspective for Jungkook.
Jungkook nodded, but he still couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. He hit the punching bag a few more times before taking a break to hydrate. "I just wish I knew what she really wanted to say," he said, taking a sip of water from his bottle.
Taehyung patted his friend's back in a comforting manner. "Don't worry too much about it, man. You can always ask her about it next time you talk," he said, trying to reassure Jungkook.
Nodding in agreement, Jungkook quickly grabs his towel and heads to the shower, relishing in the feeling of warm water cascading down his back.
After getting dressed and packing his bag, he bids Taehyung goodbye and heads out into the bustling city streets.
He was currently doing an internship at his dad's company and couldn't afford to miss any days. The internship was an important opportunity for him to gain practical experience and develop key skills that would help him succeed in his future career.
Every day, he arrived early and stayed late, taking on additional tasks and responsibilities whenever he could, which also led to not being able to see you as often as he wanted.
Despite the challenges and sacrifices that he would have to make along the way, he was determined to succeed. He knew that his hard work and dedication would pay off in the end, and that he would be able to provide for not only you but also for a potential future family.
It was this vision that kept him pushing forward, working tirelessly to achieve his dreams, just like he always did.
While he had originally studied photography and excelled in his studies, he couldn't help but feel drawn to the idea of taking over his father's company when the time was right. After all, he had grown up watching his father build the business from the ground up, and he felt that he had the skills and passion needed to carry on the company.
And you were proud of him for pursuing both the things he loved the most in live besides you.
-
"How was it? Did everything you studied for come in the exam?" As you walk out of the exam hall, Jennie bombards you with a flurry of questions.
“Great, everything I studied for came was in the exam, and I'm just-” You breathe out about to tell her that you're happy when you suddenly look behind her and see… “Jisung?”
“You're Jisung?” Jennie asks you with a raised brow. You shake your head and turn her around. “No, Jisung,” you say, pointing at your best friend who is just a few feet away from you.
Jennie furrows her brow, looking perplexed. You can see she's struggling to make sense of the situation. "Damn, what the heck?" she finally blurts out.
As you stand there in shock, your mind begins to race. As you continue to ponder, you notice Jisung turning to look in your direction. His eyes widen with recognition as he calls out your name, "y/n!"
You take a deep breath and prepare yourself for whatever comes next.
Running over to you, he gives you a big hug. “Surprise!” he exclaims and you hug him back and feel a rush of nostalgia.
"Jisung, oh my god, what are you doing here?" you ask, surprised and happy to see him.
"Well, I couldn't miss my best friend's last final, huh?" he responds, holding out a bundle of flowers towards you.
You can't help but feel touched by Jisung's thoughtfulness. As you take the flowers from him, you smile.
"Thank you so much, Jisung. You really didn't have to do this," you say, hugging him again, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you.
"Well, well, well, you again, huh?" Jennie says, her protectiveness over you becoming the better of her as she crosses her arms and scoffs. "This was supposed to be our moment," she pouts, disappointed that you are talking to Jisung instead of her. You laugh. "dont mind her, Jisung. You know how Jennie gets."
You and Jennie have been close friends for years, ever since you met. She's always been fiercely protective of you and sometimes gets jealous when you give attention to someone else.
As you chat with Jisung, you can see Jennie getting more and more annoyed, but you know not to take her to serious as she tends to exaggerate a lot.
Either way you decide to change the subject to something that will interest her more than you and Jisung talking about the newest One Piece episode. "Hey Jennie, did I tell you about-"
"Y/n"
As you turned around at the sound of Jungkook's voice, you were not entirely sure what to expect. After all, he didn't sound too happy, despite the fact that he was carrying a beautiful bouquet of flowers.
When your eyes finally met his, you could see that he was clearly upset.
"Congratulations, bunny," he said, his voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. You could tell that he was trying to put on a brave face, but it wasn't convincing.
Despite his seemingly sour mood, you were grateful for the flowers. They were a beautiful mix of colors and scents, your favourites.
As you took in the sight of the flowers, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. You knew that Jisung had also given you the same gift.
“Kook” you smile, surprised he came all the way here to surprise you for finishing your finals but now he seemed more focused on the guy who had asked you out on your camping trip 8 months ago. You noticed that Jungkook's hands were clenched tightly into fists as he glared at the other guy. You had no idea that he would react like this. After all, you had fought about this before.
“The fuck is he doing here? And why did he give you flowers?" He clenches his jaw as he talks to you, still looking at a seemingly tense Jisung. "Wasn't one punch enough to show you that she's mine?” Jungkook sounded clearly upset, his voice rising in anger. You tried to calm him down, reassuring him that Jisung was just a friend. But Jungkook wasn't having any of it.
"Dude, relax, she's still my friend. I wanted to surprise her-"
“Is this why you called me last night? You knew he was here?” His words were harsh towards you, completely ignoring Jisung, you could feel the tension rising between you. "No, Jungkook, I didn't." You tried to explain that you had no idea that he was going to be there and that you just wanted to celebrate with him. But Jungkook was too angry to listen.
“You're ridiculous,” Jennie scoffed, urging you closer to her and away from both guys. “She didn't know he was coming. What the fuck is wrong with you and your stupid temper?” she asked, looking at Jungkook. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you stood awkwardly between them.
"She's my girlfriend, I shouldn't have to worry about someone else making moves towards her," he argued.
Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion hit you. You were tired of the constant drama and bickering between him and Jisung.
"Jungkook" you look at your boyfriend in disapproval "you're being an ass"
“And, Jennie,” you clear your throat, “It's fine.” You walked towards Jungkook as you took his hand "ill catch up with you guys later, Jisung," you smile at him sympathetically. "Go stay at Taes for today, okay?".
You could feel Jennie's eyes on your back, but you didn't turn around. You needed some time to process everything that had just happened.
As you walked away with Jungkook, you felt a mixture of emotions swirling inside of you. On one hand, you were grateful for his presence and the comfort it brought you. On the other hand, you were frustrated with the situation and needed some space to clear your head.
You knew that you didn't want to talk to him just yet, but you also knew that you couldn't ignore the issue at hand. As you squeezed his hand tightly, you hoped he would understand the complexity of your feelings and give you the time and space you needed to calm down and gather your thoughts.
Maybe it was time to have a serious talk with Jisung and Jungkook. You couldn't keep pretending that everything was okay when it clearly wasn't. But for now, you just wanted some peace and quiet.
-
Sitting in Jungkooks Audi, the two of you don't talk. The radio plays some pop tunes as you stare out the window. You feel the cool breeze on your skin, and you notice the trees swaying in the wind.
"I thought we'd talked about this." You speak up as you hold the bouquet of flowers on your lap, feeling the softness of the petals. "Why won't you trust me"
You wish he would open up to you more and tell you what's on his mind. You turn your head towards him and notice his profile. He looks so handsome, with his chiselled jawline and piercing gaze, playing with his lip piercing as he drove. You wonder what he's thinking.
Taking a deep breath, you try to calm your racing breath.
"He's the problem," After a few minutes of silence, Jungkook finally spoke up, his voice low and tense. "I can't have him anywhere near you if he still feels the way he does"
You opened your mouth to speak, but Jungkook cut you off. "Don't tell me it's not true," he said, his eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the road. "I may not have all the answers, but I'm not naive. I know what he feels and I won't let anything or anyone close to you..." You could sense the intensity in his voice and knew that he was speaking from the heart. "...Take you away from me." He finches.
Despite the tension in the car, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his protectiveness and his unwavering commitment to your safety and well-being. "He won't" you try to reassure him.
Jungkook doesn't speak to you for the rest of the ride.
-
“Sorry about yesterday” you pout, picking at the cupcake as you sit in some café with Jisung.
After what happened yesterday with Jungkook, you felt the need to apologize both for him and for yourself. “You know how he can get, but it's not an excuse to-”. Sighing, Jisung chuckles, “y/n” he places a hand on yours, making you slightly uncomfortable as you retreat your hand. “Don't even worry about it, I know he can get aggressive”. His choice of words makes you frown. Sure, Jungkook wasn't a man of many words, but it still sounded a bit harsh. “Jungkook tends to act before thinking,” you defend your boyfriend. “I think he just needs some time to learn to control his emotions better.”
As you continue talking with Jisung, you start to feel more comfortable and open up about other things. “Let's talk about you and… I think you never told me her name,” you chuckle, trying to steer the conversation away from Jungkook. “Oh! You mean Yuqi? Yeah, she's great.” Jisung nervously laughs.
"How long have you known her, huh?" you ask your friend, eager to hear more about his relationship with this mystery woman. You take a sip of your coffee and lean in, waiting for him to answer. "And how did you meet? I need all the details," you add with a playful wink.
Your friend smirks and takes a moment to collect his thoughts. "Well," he begins, "we actually met through a mutual friend." You can't help but smile at the familiarity of the situation. "Oh my god, just like me and Jungkook!" you exclaim. It's interesting to think about how some of the strongest bonds can be formed through chance encounters rather than childhood friendships.
As Jisung continues to recount the story of how he met Yuqi, you listen intently and ask questions to keep the conversation flowing. You learn about their first date, their shared interests, and their first kiss. The more you hear, the more you realize that somehow, this girl is a lot like you in a lot of aspects and it doesn't exactly creep you out per se but it still leaves a funny feeling behind.
“It was good catching up with you, Jisung. Let's do it again soon.” Jisung smiles and nods as you both stand up to leave. As you walk out of the café, you immediately call Jennie to tell her everything.
-
“Your head is everywhere but with me” Namjoon spoke up as he sat down on your couch. You had been feeling really down lately due to your fight with Jungkook.
“I'm sorry, me and Jungkook had a fight and-” you sigh “it's just a lot, you know how he gets when he sees Jisung”. Namjoon listened intently and then offered some wise words, "It's natural to get jealous sometimes, but you and Jungkook need to trust each other and communicate your feelings." You nodded, knowing that he was right.
Namjoon's father was an interior designer, giving him a good knowledge on the subject. He had kindly offered you guys to help with the decorating as well as furnishing back when you told him that you were moving in together.
As he began sketching out the layout, he explained how the placement of furniture can affect the flow and functionality of a space. He also showed you examples on colour schemes and lighting to create a cohesive and inviting atmosphere.
“Yeah I heard he came to surprise you”. You laugh “who Jisung or Jungkook? Cause they both seemed to have the same plan.”
Namjoon rolled his eyes, happy to see you in good spirits again. He offered some advice like he always did. "I think both you and Jisung had the right to celebrate your last final," he started, "but I do think it was a bit strange for him to bring you flowers, especially if it's not something you guys have been doing for years. It kind of sends mixed signals, you know? After all, he's not your boyfriend - Jungkook is. But then again, maybe Jisung just wanted to do something nice for you as a friend."
Namjoon paused, then added, "Have you talked to Jungkook about how you feel?" He waited patiently as you thought about it, ready to offer more advice if needed. Nodding you sigh, “we've fought about it once or twice before, but it was never as serious as this, I mean-” you shrug, “Jungkook knows he's the one for me, I literally can't look at any other men let alone people in general and feel the same way I do for Jungkook.”
As you take another sip of your soda, you recall the early days of your relationship with Jungkook. You remember how you had an instant connection with him - the kind of connection that people dream about. You never thought you could feel that way about someone until you met Jungkook. You smile at the memory, but then your thoughts turn back to the present.
“I think there's something more to Jungkook's dislike for Jisung,” you say, trying to put your thoughts into words. “It's not just a simple case of not liking someone. There's something deeper there, something that he's not telling me.”
You lean back in your chair, lost in thought. You wonder if there's anything you can do to help Jungkook open up to you. You know that he's not the type to talk about his feelings, but maybe if he knew how much it was affecting you, he would be more willing to share.
Namjoon nods, listening intently. “I think you're right,” he says. “There's definitely something going on with Jungkook. But I think the best thing you can do right now is to give him some space. Let him work through his feelings on his own, and when he's ready, he'll come to you.”
You nod, grateful for the advice. As you and Namjoon continue to talk, you feel a weight lifted off your shoulders. You know that you still have a lot to figure out, but for now, you're content to just take things one day at a time.
-
"...when he's ready, he'll come to you...”
It had been two days since the incident, and things between you and Jungkook were the same as Friday. You tried talking about your new apartment to break the silence, but it didn't seem to help. Jungkook didn't say more than "looks good" or "sure why not" when you showed him furniture you'd picked out with Namjoon the other day.
As usual, he was not good at expressing his feelings, and the lack of communication did not come as a surprise to you. Nevertheless, you had faith in your relationship, at least until now. As you stood in the shower, the warm water cascading down your body, you couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment. You were using the expensive Molton Brown shower gel that Jungkook had gifted you for your birthday, which only made you think about him more.
Speaking of Jungkook, he was currently outside your room, probably waiting for you to just lay beside him until you two fell asleep.
It was evident that he didn't like being apart from you for too long, and he was acting like a sad puppy who wanted nothing more than comfort from his owner - you, his girlfriend. You wondered what he was thinking, whether he regretted what happened or not. You also wondered when he would ever take the initiative to talk to you and patch things up. In the meantime, you couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness, hoping that things would go back to how they were before.
"Y/n," Jungkook said as he knocked on the door. You recognized the sweet sound of your boyfriend's voice, but you knew deep down that everything was not fine. This was not the first time he had given you the silent treatment. In fact, it was a recurring pattern in your relationship. Jungkook had a tendency to shut down and refuse to communicate when he was upset, leaving you feeling frustrated and unsure of what to do.
Usually, you'd start thinking that everything was fine again and that he'd calmed down, but no. Although he was speaking softly, you could tell that there was still an underlying tension.
Jungkook never gave you the silent treatment, he rather gave you the ‘I don't want to talk to you but if you leave me or ignore me ill be sad’ treatment.
You sat there, waiting for him to say something else, hoping that he would open up and share what exactly was bothering beside the obvious. You tried to think of ways to make him feel more comfortable and at ease so that he would be more willing to talk to you. Maybe you could make him a cup of tea or suggest watching a show he liked.
As you dried up with your towel, your mind also wandered to happier times with Jungkook. You thought about the first time you met and how he had made you laugh with his flirty jokes. You remembered the time when you went on the yearly road trip together for the first time before you officially started dating, and all the fun you had exploring new places together.
These memories brought a smile to your face, and you hoped that everything would work out eventually.
After taking a long and relaxing shower, you step out of the bathroom with only your towel wrapped around your body. As you enter your bedroom, you find Jungkook already lying in your bed, dressed only in his comfortable boxershorts and ready to sleep. You can't help but feel a pang of excitement as you catch a glimpse of his toned physique glistening under the moonlight.
Despite having seen him shirtless on numerous occasions, you still can't seem to get used to the sight of him. Every time he's around without a shirt, it's like he's just stepped out of a fashion magazine. His tattoos only add to his appeal, making him all the more irresistible to you. Ugh, how you wished you could just climb on him and-
As he turns to face you, you notice a playful glint in his eyes, and you can't help but feel drawn to him. You know you shouldn't be doing this, especially when you're fighting, but somehow, it feels right.
Climbing into bed next to him after putting on a shirt and panties, you feel his warmth envelop you as you snuggle up against him. The night is young, after all.
-
You moaned in pleasure, "shit! Oh my-" feeling the intensity of the moment as you bounced on top of Jungkook dick. Though you were both still upset with each other, the raw passion between you two was just undeniable.
His big eyes stared right at you, a mix of emotions flickering across his face. You could feel the heat rising between you both, the air filled with anticipation and desire. Every movement you made was met with a soft gasp or a low groan from him, his hands gripping onto your hips as he held you close the gap between your bodies.
As the minutes passed, the tension began to build, the pleasure almost becoming unbearable. Your body started to feel like it was on fire, as you grinded your hips, stimulating your clit by rubbing it against his pelvis. You were soon lost in the moment again, as he finally spoke up, his voice low and raspy.
"Fuck," he said, his hand squeezing your ass, as he noticed himself getting close. You felt a rush of excitement, knowing that you were the reason for his pleasure. He was practically melting beneath you, his body writhing with pleasure as he got closer and closer to the edge.
"I'm so sorry," he moaned, leaning up to kiss your neck and cheek. "I'm such a loser, I'm so sorry." You stopped in your tracks, staring at him in surprise. "Is this really what took you to speak up? Sex?" you asked, your eyebrows raised.
As you looked into his eyes, you could see the vulnerability and insecurity that he was trying to hide. You leaned in to kiss him, wrapping your arms around him as you whispered sweet nothings into his ear.
As the tension in the room dissipated, your bodies drew closer and your breathing began to sync. You felt a sense of intimacy and connection that you hadn't experienced before. It was as if a new level of trust had been established between you, one that went beyond mere words. In that moment, you realized that sometimes, physical intimacy can be the most powerful way to feel truly connected to someone you love.
-
"Mornin', bunny," Jungkook groans into your neck, both of you still naked from last night's events, snuggling closer into his embrace, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours.
You giggle as you look back on the previous night. You remember how he had kissed you so passionately afterwards, his hands running all over your body as he made you his own once again.
"Kook," you whine, playfully running your fingers through his hair.
"I love you, you know," he sighs, squeezing your hip. "I should show it more often, but I love you." You smile at him, feeling your heart swell with affection.
You sit up and take a moment to look at him before touching his lip piercing lightly, feeling the cold metal against your fingertips. You smile and play with it for a bit before leaning in to plant a kiss on his mouth. As you pull away, you can't help but tease him, "I know you're hiding something from me, Jungkook. You can't fool me that easily." You pause for a moment, looking into his eyes before continuing, "I just need to know what it is. We're in this together and if there's anything that could affect us, we need to talk about it."
Jungkook's expression turns serious, and he takes a deep breath before speaking. "I've been thinking a lot about our future together," he admits. "I just really need to know that you and Jisung-" he clears his throat. "I need to know that you don't feel the same way about him."
When your boyfriend asks about your feelings towards your best friend, it felt like a bomb has been dropped on you. The surge of emotions that ensues were overwhelming, as you try to sort through your thoughts and feelings. You couldn't believe that he would think that, after all that you two have been through together, that you would still have any romantic feelings for your best friend.
You tried to keep your cool and not get mad, because you understand that this is a sensitive topic for him. His parents are divorced, and he probably doesn't want to commit to someone who doesn't have the same level of commitment to the relationship as he does. But at the same time, you can't help but feel hurt and a little bit betrayed that he would even ask you something like that.
Staying calm, you take a deep breath and ask him, "How could you even think that? I mean, don't my actions speak louder than words? Didn't the love that I showed you last night provide enough evidence?" You try to hold back tears as you speak.
Jungkook quickly realizes his mistake and apologizes, "Baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It was a stupid question. I need to learn to think before I speak."
You appreciate his apology, but you still feel hurt and confused. "It's fine, maybe -" You start, sitting closer to him. "Maybe..."
Jungkook raises a brow, taking your chin in his hand as he makes you look at him "baby" he whispered
"Maybe I should go talk to Jisung and tell him that things aren't like before, I talked to Namjoon, and he thinks that he's overstepping too sometimes"
You smile. "Would that make you feel any better?" You ask, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Do you want me to talk to him?"
-
Relationships are complex and dynamic, with ups and downs, peaks and valleys, and ebbs and flows. Imperfection is an escapable part of any relationship, which can be challenging but ultimately rewarding.
Currently, you are experiencing a low point in your relationship with Jungkook. While you have made some progress in resolving issues, there are still unresolved concerns that need to be addressed.
By talking to Jisung and setting boundaries, you are taking a step in the right direction towards strengthening your relationship with Jungkook.
It is also important to recognize that your relationships is not one-sided and that Jungkook, too, had to make sacrifices that he initially did not like either. Like that time you'd asked him to unfollow a shit ton of girls on Instagram, and that wasn't because you were jealous but it just matter of factly did not make sense to you that he followed past hookups.
So now it was your turn to set boundaries to take the next step in your relationship with Jungkook; tell Jisung to back the fuck off like Jungkook would say.
“Y/n!” Jisung waved at you as you walk in the park, looking for the spot where you told Jisung to meet up. You feel the warmth of the sun on your skin and enjoy the fresh air. As you walk around, you notice the colorful flowers and the sounds of birds singing. Jisung looks great, and you tell him so. He thanks you and returns the compliment before you two start walking around.
“So what was it that you wanted to talk about? Are you leaving town huh? You sounded so serious over the phone,” he jokes, making you laugh. You appreciate his sense of humor, but you know that this is a serious matter.
“Listen, you know how Jungkook and I are moving together, right?” you ask, and Jisung nods. “What's up? Do you regret it?” he asks, making you once again laugh. “No, no! Absolutely not!”
“But, uh,” you shrug, “Listen, I feel like we've just been a bit too comfortable recently, and I think we need to set some boundaries with one another.
"Since the two of us are in relationships now, I don't think it's fair to Jungkook or Yuqi that we're so affectionate with each other. What do you think?"
"One option could be to limit physical displays of affection in their presence and focus on other means like conversation or shared activities." You say, watching Jisung nod as you continue "we could also, i dont know... we could try to include our partners in our hangouts and double dates whenever any of us is in town"
Jisung nods again, his mood seemingly confused.
"Ultimately," you state enthusiastically, "the goal should be to find a balance that works for everyone involved and ensures that all parties feel respected and valued in the friendship." It felt like you were reading right out of a wikihow post, but in reality, you'd been preparing really well for this conversation like you were studying for a test.
"So?" you ask, turning to face Jisung. "Do you think we can just keep the hugging and whatnot to a minimum?" Jisung shrugs, forcing a smile. "I guess so," he says quietly.
You can't help but feel a bit disappointed. You love hugging your friends and showing them affection, but you understand why Jungkook might be upset about that stuff. After all, both you and Jisung are trying to maintain a friendly relationship.
You can't help but feel grateful for Jisung's company. He's always been a good listener, and he never judges you for your quirks and idiosyncrasies. You hope that your friendship with him can continue to grow and flourish, even if it means keeping the hugging to a minimum.
As you part ways, you can't resist giving him a quick wave and a smile. "See you soon," you say, already looking forward to your next hangout.
-
You take a deep breath and inhale the aroma that fills the air. It smells so good that you can't help but moan in delight. "Uh smells nice," you say to Jungkook as you take off your jacket and place your things down. You notice that he is busy in the kitchen, but you can't tell what he's doing. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you ask him if he's cooking. He shakes his head and replies, "No, but my mom did. She made us some food, and I'm just heating it up."
You can't help but feel grateful to Jungkook's mom for preparing such a delicious meal for you every now and then. "I love your mom," you say to him, unable to contain your excitement. You lean in and kiss his cheek, feeling content and happy with the warmth of the food and the company of your boyfriend.
Jungkook greets you with a smile "babyyy",
As you playfully tease him, "kookieee" he starts to whine, but you silence him with a sweet kiss. You feel his arms wrap around you, and you can't help but feel butterflies.
As you both sit down on the couch with your plates, he pulls you close to him. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he starts to hum in contents, making you laugh. "What's up, huh?"
Jungkook's grin widens as he gets up to get something from his room, making you place down both plates on the table and wait for him to eat.
Coming back, he shows you the signed apartment papers. "Guess what," he winks, but doesn't wait for your guess. "No way," you speak in disbelief. "You did it, oh my god," you squeak.
You can't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. After you spend hours planning out the new apartment, from furniture to decor, it was finally the time to start moving in soon. Jungkook suggests a cosy reading corner while you insist on a large, bright kitchen.
“were moving in together” he states “were moving in together.” you agree.
synopsis: Jimin is the kind of best friend who shows you what best friends are supposed to be. He would do anything for you. He has done everything for you. In college, he was there for every study session and date breakdown. Now, he continues to support you, from every embarrassing moment to every emotional one. So, though it’s weird that you’ve waited this long to tell him that you want to have a baby, you don’t think it’s weird that you want it to be with him. And you already know he’s going to say yes.
c/w, themes, & more info: fic page | Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Discussion of Abortion, Casual Sex, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Drunk Sex, One Night Stands, Miscarriage, Pregnant Sex, Dildos, Vibrators, Ass Play
Just to prove that she's got MY drafts, let me tell you some things:
Size matters is an AU where Idol Jungkook has a short girlfriend who gets made fun of by staff who claims she'd had sex with him before. She teases mc for not being able to 'take him', which leads to relationship angst. The staff never had sex with him though. It's a smut shot I wrote.
Motion sickness deals with best friend Yoongi who watches mc's relationships all fall apart for numerous reasons, such as lack of attention, lack of intimacy, or emotional neglect. But because he's the best friend he believes there's lines he shouldn't cross- until she spills to him how unloved and unattractive she feels since her ex couldn't 'get it up' and blamed her for it. It was intended to be a smut shot, ended up being more plot than smut though. Unfinished, her claim of being 20% is a bit low though, cut me some slack here luv.
Saccharine is a fic about sugar daddy Jungkook who owns a clothing brand and is also known Tobe brand ambassador etc yadayada. He finds mc because she's a friend of Jin's and proposes a sugar daddy-esque situation to her simply because he's fearful of approaching anyone the traditional way as he's already divorced twice. 40% is pretty generous for only having given you what, 600 words? Or did you actually start writing for once?
Moon of claiming is a 12k fic I wrote over the course of several MONTHS focusing on medieval-kind of werewolf kook and mc. They can shift between forms and go on a pilgrimage to find their mate and start or join groups/packs. There's a scene where Jungkook makes a wooden bracelet for her as an offering made out of both wood from the woods he comes from and wood from her pack's.
Just to spite anything you post in the future. I'll be sure to post more spoilers if you continue to claim anything about 'being in the process of writing'. Don't fuck with me luv. ♡
Summary: In hopes of clearing his name of all the misdemeanors he had done, Jeongguk's PR team thinks it’ll be a good stunt to date someone like you, who had the public's good side and who’s willing to co-star with him on a movie. It’s so unfortunate that your agent agreed to this.
Pairings: Actor!Jeongguk x Actress!Reader
Genre: enemies to lovers, fake dating, kinda slow burn
Status: ongoing
warnings: holy trinity (s/f/a), starts with angsty jk, dom!jk, sub!reader who hates her manager's idea, koo is bigger than oc (should be fun), edging, sexual tension, panic attacks, violence, attempted assault, sexual innuendo, mutual pinning + tags are specified in each chapter.
index
PROLOGUE
01: THE STAR & THE UNDERDOG (6.9k+ words)
02: DRIVE SAFE (5.9k+ words)
03: EDGING (5.1k+ words)
04: THREE-TWO-ONE 🔞 (6.7k+ words)
05: SEXTAPE 🔞 ()
06: WHATEVER THIS IS 🔞 ()
07: THE BREAKUP 🔞 ()
08: POSTSCRIPT ()
I Fell In Love With A Girl Group Stan | Masterlist | ♞ | | ♚ || ♛ || ♜ || ✆ |
Summary: Going to a BTS concert with her best friend was an anxiety attack waiting to happen because she only knew a handful of their songs and felt like an intruder but she didn’t want her to go alone. She made two mistakes. Number one, not changing her lockscreen from Irene to something else and number two, wearing a Red Velvet lanyard. When her friend wins a raffle to meet them, everything changes for her and the youngest member; especially when her alarm starts playing Bad Boy in the middle of her sentence.
“Love does not appear with any warning signs. You fall into it as if pushed from a high diving board. No time to think about what’s happening. It’s inevitable. An event you can’t control. A crazy, heart-stopping, roller-coaster ride that just has to take its course.”
— Press play: Never Falling - Catila | Never Forget You - Zara Larsson | Go - Caleb Cruise | Lovers in The Night - Seori | Reminder - Corey Nyell | Calling - Sidi | Motion Picture Soundtrack - Shallou | You & I - Mira | Overthinking - offonoff | Nights2Long - Ayelle | Toward The Pain - Joel Ansett | Because It Mattered - Dutch Melrose
where you sort of hooked up with one of the school’s biggest fuckboys but end up leaving him hanging and never contacting him because…well…why not? somehow the universe brought you two together and now you’re left with dealing with him because he apparently caught feelings for you.
; pairing: flirty/smartass!y/n x fuckboy!yoongi
; warnings: ass grabbing, ass slapping, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, cock warming, blowjobs, breastplay, mention of sex toys, mention of masturbation, usage of mature words, some dirty talk, jealous yoongi (my fave hehe)
; genre: smut (18+), pwp (?)
; wc: 11k+ (the most i’ve ever written 🤯 sorry hehe)
a/n: fuck fuckboys or fuck a fuckboy? 🫣 honestly really wanted to write something for that pic of yoongi (jeeeesus😮💨) and thought “yeah i think he should be a fuckboy or something” lol…also peep the namaikizakari pic heheh—one of my favorite mangas!! 🫶
-
He led you to his bedroom in his currently empty but shared apartment he lived in, your soft hand in his.
The two of you had just gone back from the bar, the two of you slightly tipsy—more him than you. You didn’t drink much compared to him. You knew your limits and you made sure that you stayed away from being severely, passed out drunk. To keep things short, you both had shitty days and you both just wanted to let it all out with a little one night stand—no biggy, right? But who would've thought that you would be doing a quick fuck with the one an only Min Yoongi, a fairly popular boy at your university who’s only interested in just fucking without any feelings. You could probably answer your statement, actually: the man is just down to fuck anyone he sees. You’ve heard it everywhere—all the little chitter chatter about him that goes around the school—he’s a man who doesn’t want to settle with one person. He wants a quick fuck, but never twice with the same person, and afterwards he won’t do anything else but sleep and ignore you as you leave.
He guides you over to his bed, making you sit on the edge while he goes ahead and locks the door from behind.
It’s not everyday where you get this sort of chance, so before you gave into coming to his place to hook up with him, you decided that you wanted to toy with him a bit—have him remember who you are.
He walks slowly over to you, scanning your body up and down as he licks his dry lips.
“Mm, so what’s your plan?” You hum, looking up at the tall man who stood in front of you. He’s bringing up a hand to twirl the loose strand of your long hair around his finger.
He smirks, removing his finger from your hair and taking his thumb and index finger to hold your chin.
“I figured it was kind of obvious with what’s going on, no?”
You snort at his remark, gently grabbing his arm by the wrist to pull his hand away from yours.
“I’m well aware of the game you play, Min, and obviously I’m completely up for it. But how about we change it up a little—let me take control this time?” You bat your long eyelashes at him, giving him a sweet and innocent look on your face. You release your grip around him, brushing your fingers up and down his forearm before placing your hands back in your lap.
Yoongi scoffs with a smile on his face, amused with your offer.
“Sure, princess. But if it gets bad, I’m gonna take over.”
You place a hand on his stomach, gently pushing down on him to get him to move back, which he does. You stand up in front of him, spin the two of you around and push him over again to make him sit on the edge of the bed.
“Alright,” you hum, now looking down at him.
His hands instinctively reach out to you to caress your curves, but you’re quick to give him light slaps to his hands to prevent him from doing so.
“We’ll go over some rules—one of them being no touching unless I say so. Two, I don’t like to kiss on the lips if I’m just doing a one night stand—.”
“—Pfft,” he cuts you off, “that’s stupid. But you’re willing to have sex?”
“I think kisses are more intimate and they deserve to be used in a place where feelings are there.”
He thinks to himself for a second, quietly considering your comment.
“I guess you can think that way, princess.”
You roll your eyes at him, removing your black leather blazer to reveal the little black cropped tank top and your short black miniskirt a little better.
God, he was drooling over you. Every curve of you looked absolutely delicious—he had to touch you but, of course, he wasn’t allowed to. He was even able to see your hardened and pierced tits through your shirt, which made him chuckle a bit. He was too excited to see them.
“No bra? Is that all for me?” He grins, licking his lips again.
You lean over, your face coming closer to his as you ignore his words. He was ready for you to just plant one on him, so he instinctively closed his eyes. You place your head on the side of his, lightly giggling at him.
“Cute,” you mumbled near his ear, making him immediately open his eyes, all embarrassed. Your hand slides into the front pocket of his button up shirt, taking out a large handkerchief. You pull away, looking back at him with a cheeky smile. “I was surprised to see that you had one of these in your pocket. It’ll be handy for today.”
Yoongi raises his eyebrow at you, unable to put one and one together.
“Last rule is that you’ll be blind folded until I say so. If any rules are broken, I’ll stop and leave.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Should I just get going now?”
His dark eyes scan you up and down again, undressing you in his mind. You stood there in your all black outfit, playing with the long handkerchief by loosely wrapping it around your hands. You looked heavenly, it was screwing up his thoughts.
“Fuck,” he swears under his breath.
Something in him was also telling him to give this a try—see if he’s into it or not. It wouldn’t hurt to try, would it?
“I’ll play along with your little game, princess.”
“Great,” you hum with a smile on your face.
—
It didn’t end the way the two of you (possibly him more) wanted it to be.
Spoiler alert—you ended up leaving him while you were in the middle of teasing him, your hand wrapped around his long and hard cock, making him desperate for more of your touch.
Of course he was absolutely furious with you leaving him without having the chance to get to his release or even fuck you. You didn’t care, though. It wasn’t your problem anyways. He broke the rules and you left just like that—exactly what you told him before you started.
You kind of already expected Yoongi to slip and end the night short. All he wants is his dick to be wet—and you didn’t want to fall into that trick of his. Instead, he fell right into your trap—all left with blue balls and not a single taste of you.
You kind of already expected Yoongi to slip and end the night short. All he wants is his dick to be wet—and you didn’t want to fall into that trick of his. Instead, he fell right into your trap—all left with blue balls and not a single taste of you.
You kind of already expected Yoongi to slip and end the night short. All he wants is his dick to be wet—and you didn’t want to fall into that trick of his. Instead, he fell right into your trap—all left with blue balls and not a single taste of you.
You kind of already expected Yoongi to slip and end the night short. All he wants is his dick to be wet—and you didn’t want to fall into that trick of his. Instead, he fell right into your trap—all left with blue balls and not a single taste of you.
Now, it’s not like you hate him or anything. It’s more like you wanted to teach him a little lesson. This whole thing was never planned ahead, of course—you just got lucky enough to come in contact with him on one of those rare days where you actually decided to go out for a drink.
You internally laugh to yourself, barely focusing on what you’re doing behind your laptop.
“Y/n, how about we take this get together to my apartment? I can feel myself trying to fall asleep. I’ve been awake since 5 in the morning.”
You look over to the boy, watching him rub his eyes with the back of his hands and then stretching afterwards.
You chuckle at him, agreeing with his idea before the two of you start packing up and heading out of your school library.
The universe is actually pretty crazy. Or perhaps you’re just really lucky because who would’ve thought you’d be here again in the same apartment that you were in a while ago. However this time you’re here with Yoongi’s roommate, Hoseok—your classmate that you’ll be working on a project with.
You’re carefully scanning the place again as you enter, not being able to recognize a thing in the living room since you barely had a chance to look around the last time.
“Don’t worry, no one’s here right now. I think my roommate is out right now.”
You nod your head, somewhat hoping that you get to leave before Yoongi makes it back home.
“Make yourself at home, y/n! Don’t be shy! Grab some water if you want. I’m just going to use the restroom real quick!” He doesn’t let you answer as he scurries over down the hallway. Dropping your stuff down on the couch, you make your way towards the kitchen.
You were opening each cabinet one by one, in search of some cups. Honestly, you couldn’t care less if they were glass, plastic, or paper at this point since you still weren’t able to find any. Hoseok wasn’t that descriptive—matter of fact he didn’t really tell you—where things were, so it just looks like you're ransacking his kitchen.
Squatting down, you look in the cabinets of their kitchen island. Rummaging through things until you find the stupid cups.
“Hoseok, what’re you makin’?”
You froze in your stance, the two glass cups in your hands. The voice you heard was definitely not your classmate’s. It was lower, a bit gravelly as if they just woke up. This was most definitely the one and only Min Yoongi. Of course, the universe made you lucky enough to meet him again.
You muster up the courage, mentally slapping yourself to gain some more confidence to face him again. You slowly stood up, placing the glass cups on the countertop.
He looks up at you with a raised eyebrow, rubbing his eyes again to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things.
A lopsided smile grows on his face, as he moves closer to rest his arms on the counter.
“Back for a redo? Did you miss me or something?”
You snort, amused with the words that came out of his mouth. He definitely didn’t learn anything with your so-called “experiment”. Since you were already in this position, you made a quick decision to keep toying with him until he’s at his limit.
“Of course not. I’m here for your roommate.”
His sleepy eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, his neck slightly extended forward.
“My roommate? Hoseok? You’re about to go fuck that guy right now?”
Before you could answer, you were immediately cut off. The two of your heads both looking over to see the owner of that voice.
“Ah! Hyung! You’re home?!” He’s looking at Yoongi, to you, and back to the boy as he mentally took in the situation. “I see you’re already introducing yourself to y/n! She’s in my biology class. I’ve got a project to do with her.”
You couldn’t tell if the air around you guys was awkward, uncomfortable, or very tense. Honestly, it didn’t bother you at all that you were seeing Yoongi again for a second time—more like it just caught you off guard that you were actually lucky to see him for a second time.
Yoongi takes a glance over at you again and then back at Hoseok, silently observing the two of you.
“Yeah,” he pauses, “I skipped class ‘cuz I wanted to sleep.”
The other boy nods to acknowledge his words and the room goes quiet again. You clear your throat to break up the silence and make way to the water dispenser to fill up your cup.
“Are you thirsty Hoseok? I’ll bring some water to the table if you want me to.”
“Ah, no I’m fine,” his voice sounded like it was getting further as he spun around to go sit back down in front of the coffee table.
“I’ll take a cup.” You hear the other boy’s low voice even closer to you than before, so you glance over your shoulder to see him now standing behind you, body leaned against the island of the kitchen.
Turning around with one full glass in your hand and the other on the counter, you shoot him a quick smile and ignore his request before you walk past him to head over to Hoseok. He scoffs, his eyes following your body and then his whole body turns to watch you sit your pretty ass right next to Hoseok—all giggly and shit.
-
Standing behind the kitchen island became his favorite place to be at whenever you came over. He pretends to be on his phone or laptop, clean a little bit, or even cook up a little snack and eat it there. If it’s not already obvious, Yoongi was solely there to see you. (And monitor whatever was going on between you and Hoseok.)
There has been zero progression between the two of you within the past few days and he was growing impatient. The way Hoseok has been having you all to himself was pissing him off. Were you really going to fuck his friend? But why not him? Why’d you have to play games with him and leave him high and dry with no care in the world?
It was also pissing him off that you weren’t all over him like how other girls are with him. I mean—you made it pretty clear to him that you knew what kind of guy he is and how you didn’t really want much to do with him. I guess seeing the attention being only on Hoseok made him a bit…jealous…
..Yeah
…he was jealous…
That’s something he rarely feels.
Hoseok takes another bathroom break which gives Yoongi the chance to steal you away and get the ball going between the two of you. He quickly grabs his math textbook, a piece of paper, and a pencil from his desk in his room and sits right next to you on the couch with the sides of your thighs and arms both touching each other. Your head immediately turns to him, watching his movements with a raised eyebrow. He puts his textbook on top of Hoseok’s, flipping to a random page and points at a problem.
“Teach me how to do this,” Yoongi mumbles, eyes only on you and not whatever he was pointing at.
You look at him, a little thrown off. You glance over at the book and quickly scan the text, trying to see if you could actually help him at all.
“Calculus? You’re in calculus?”
He silently nods his head, patiently waiting for you to do something.
“I’m not really the best at math, but I can tell you what I know and maybe you could try to put things together with your knowledge?” You didn’t even bother to look up at him, pulling the textbook more towards you so that you could read the problem again.
All you did was talk him through the problem and explain what some things are, but none of it managed to stay in his brain when all he was focusing on was your voice. God, he could listen to you for hours.
He was scribbling stuff on his paper, working out the problem as you softly spoke to him.
“Ah, hyung—! You’re working on homework?!”
You immediately stood up from your spot, moving over to the side a bit to give Yoongi some space until you felt a grip around your wrist. You feel him pull you back down, making you sit right next to him with the side of your body touching his.
“You’re fine where you’re sitting,” he says in a low voice, head leaning closer to your ear.
Hoseok observes the two of you, getting a gist of what’s going on. He doesn’t sit down next to you like you thought he would, instead he starts walking away again, leaving you confused.
“I forgot—I have to make a phone call real quick.”
“Since when do you make phone calls?” You retort.
“Y/n, I’m a busy man. Don’t worry about it.” His eyes go from you to Yoongi, wiggling his eyebrows at him. You turn to look at Yoongi, watching the way he glares at Hoseok.
Yoongi blankly stared at him, not giving a fuck about whatever Hoseok this or Hoseok that has to do. He turns to look at you again once the other boy is out of the room.
“Could you quit looking at Hoseok like that?”
“Like what?”
“You know already.”
You scoff with a laugh.
“Yoongi, be more specific with me. I can’t read your mind.”
“You give him the prettiest smile while batting those long eyelashes of yours—he’s gonna fall for you and I don’t want that shit to happen.”
The pout in his voice is noticeable, you found it cute.
“Why don’t you want it to happen? Didn’t I tell you I was coming for him next?”
He clenches his jaw, a firm line on his lips. Hearing that just pissed him off even more. Of course he would never want that. He wants you to himself, even though he can’t explain why he wants you so badly.
“You should be going for me. Not Hoseok.”
You force a fake smile on your face, placing a hand on his bicep. You gently rub your hand up and down before letting it sneak up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. Your fingertips play with the ends of his long hair, slightly massaging the back of his head—doing all this just to tease him again.
“Yoongi, I’m not going to be one of your easy picks. You can look for another girl who can fulfill your needs.”
You’re about to remove your hand away from him until he grabs your arm and places it right on top of his shoulder where it rested before.
“I don’t want “another girl”, princess. My eyes are set on you.”
“All you want me to do is to get your dick wet and then you’ll just toss me like every other girl you've hooked up with,” you scoff.
“But if I don’t plan on doing that to you, then what?”
“You want a gold star for finally not thinking like a little fuckboy? Finally being a decent human being?”
He rolls his eyes, annoyed with the fact you were right. He is an asshole and he’s known to be that type of asshole. But he wasn’t going to be that asshole to you.
“Yoongi, how the hell am I supposed to trust you?”
“I can prove to you that I’m serious about you.”
“How can you be so serious about me when all we’ve done is hang out with each other once for a semi-hookup?”
“I guess you can call it love at first sight, doll,” he’s lazily smirking at you, a sight that makes you feel a little tingly inside.
You scoff again, hiding the little smile you had on your face from his stupid silly words. “Yoongi, you probably say that to every other girl just to convince them to hook up with you.”
“Alright, since you think all I do is think about sex, let's start by making it not about sex. I’ll go two weeks without masturbating or fucking any other women—which should be easy because all I want is you.”
There he goes again. He’s way too good at poking at your heart, making you feel something. God, you felt stupid but you can’t help but react that way.
You slowly move your arm off of his shoulder and slide your hand over to his chest, taking your index finger to play with the string of his hoodie by wrapping it around your finger.
“Make it four weeks.”
He’s taking one of his hands and gently sliding it over the side of your waist, caressing that area by moving his hand up and down.
“When did that hook up between us happen again?”
You furrow your eyebrows, thrown off by him asking this at this moment.
“2 weeks ago, I think?”
He’s smiling, leaning his head over to the side of yours, his breath tickling your ear.
“I’ve got two weeks left then, princess. You can ask Hoseok to confirm it if you want.”
You stare at him with a puzzled face when he pulls away from you.
“Hoseok knows when you jerk off?”
He lets out a low laugh, one of those throaty ones. You watch him as he smiles big with his teeth and gums all out.
“No—,” he chuckles, “he doesn’t. He knows that I haven’t been with anyone since I met up with you. I can confirm for myself that I haven’t jerked off at all these past 2 weeks—if that’s what you’re more worried about.”
You gently shove him away by the shoulders, annoyed by his teasing. But his grip around your waist tightens, and he’s pulling you closer to him.
“Alright, go ahead then.”
“Atta’, girl,” he hums, “but know that if I want something, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that I get it.”
-
To be completely honest (and kind of stupid to admit), you didn’t expect him to last this long. Hoseok knew about the deal that was going on and he always brought up the fact that Yoongi hadn’t been going out or seeing anyone whenever he saw you in class—kinda funny, right? He only had a day left and you were sure you were going to lose.
Now, instead of accepting defeat, wouldn’t it be better to spice things up before you could come to terms with losing?
You were chuckling to yourself as you took pictures of yourself as you laid in bed. You pressed your arms together, making your breasts look larger in your plain black bra. You couldn’t leave out the matching black, lacey thong you had on too, so you took a couple snaps from the front and the back. Soon enough, you were already pressing the red button on your phone screen. Legs spread out as you teased yourself on the outside of your panties, creating a little wet spot.
Sent.
You take another clip of you massaging your breasts, slowly pulling down on your bra to reveal your hardened and pierced nipples. You gently flick your nipples with the tips of your finger nails, grazing against them ever so lightly, making sure your video clearly captures your little whimpers.
Sent.
From your bedside drawer, you took out your pink dildo, recording another clip of you sucking on just the tip of it before bringing your head lower to lick a stripe from the bottom and back to the tip. Holding the toy by the base, you release the tip with a little ‘pop’, bringing that hand to slowly move it up and down.
Sent.
You knew he had to fold. He just had to do something. I mean, not to be so full of yourself or whatever, how else would someone react if they received explicit videos and pictures from a person they liked?
This just had to be one of your greatest plans. You were sure that Yoongi was going to lose. He just has to text you any second now—or even tomorrow morning. With that being said, you were able to sleep comfortably for the night.
.
The uneasiness of Yoongi not texting you started to grow when you saw no new messages on your phone when you woke up. It continued to grow little by little as hours passed by—still no response coming from him.
You eventually gave up on the thought of you almost winning once the clock struck about 11:40 pm.
It was most definitely over for you.
You just had to accept it.
Maybe you might’ve gone a little overboard—or a little too confident in yourself. You really thought he would take the bait.
“Hoseok, give me a second. I think someone’s at my door.” You glance up from your paper to look at him on your propped up phone.
“At this time?” He asks, concerned for your safety.
You shrug, not really giving the situation a thought.
“I’ll keep you on facetime but I’m muting you. Just keep an eye out for me if I don’t show up on your screen after more than 5 minutes.” You’re already reaching over to tap on the mute button and getting up from the floor before you stride towards your door.
You figured that it was probably your neighbors or some student from school. The apartment complex was primarily made up of students, so you were sure it had to be a student knocking. Honestly, you were used to the noisiness coming from outside, the occasional parties, or the ding-dong ditching that a little knock on the door at this time doesn’t really bother you.
You were met with another view—in fact, an insanely rare view—that you would have never expected. Standing face to face in front of you—with your oversized big shirt and skimpy panties underneath—was the one and only Min Yoongi.
He looks you up and down, a smug look appearing on his face. You look up at him with a raised eyebrow, slightly scoffing before turning around to your phone to unmute it and leaving the boy at the door.
“Never mind, Hoseok, it was nobody. Just give me a minute.”
You immediately muted your phone again once you heard the door being locked and a little chuckle.
“A nobody—hm,” he hums.
He sticks his hands in his pockets, slowly making his way towards you as he takes a couple glances around your apartment. He stops and stands in front of you, leaving a couple feet in between.
“Yoongi, what the hell are you doing here?
“The photos and videos you sent me.”
You smiled, but quickly dropped it. A bit excited to hear him finally bring up the topic you’ve been waiting for.
“Oh? Shit—I must’ve sent them to you by accident. They were for someone else.” You watch as one of his eyebrows furrowed together, clearly concerned with what you just said.
“Who?”
“Hoseok, of course.” You knew by saying this he would go mad—and that’s what you wanted to see. You wanted to push his buttons, make him frustrated with you, and see what he would do.
“And the outfit? You’re wearing that while you’re on facetime with Hoseok?”
“Well, yeah—wouldn’t it be easier to give him a little show this way?” You say teasingly.
After that being said, his whole demeanor shifts. He’s clenching his teeth, causing his sharp jawline to be more defined. His eyes on you felt heavier, as if they were burning holes into your own. His flirty, teasing self that he usually had on him was gone. The change slightly scared you, but you didn’t want to show him that.
He was mad.
He never wanted to hear that come out of your mouth ever again.
“Guess so?” Is all he says.
“Did you like the pictures at least?”
“Did I like the pictures?” He repeats, his tone strong.
He scoffs again, chuckling right afterwards.
The two of you turn to your phone when you both hear Hoseok calling out for you. Taking the phone in your hand this time, you unmute to quickly apologize to him. Before you know it, a pair of arms are wrapped around your waist and a head is resting on your shoulder.
“She’s busy, call later,” Yoongi mumbles, glancing over at your phone. You were too stunned to say something, his actions completely catching you off guard.
“Hyung?! There you fucking are! You could’ve told me where you were heading to before running out like that—.” Yoongi quickly hits the ‘end’ button before the other boy could keep going. He’s taking your phone away from your hands and tosses it over somewhere on your couch before his arms find your waist again.
“I didn’t like the answer I heard earlier,” he hums.
“Which one?”
You let out a little yelp when you feel him gently sink his teeth on your shoulder.
“Don’t play stupid with me, doll. You already know.”
“Ah,” you laugh a little awkwardly, “suddenly I do remember what you’re talking about.”
He snorts, rolling his eyes at your comment with a smile on his face.
“Were they really for him? Because I feel like they couldn’t be.”
“Why couldn’t they?”
It’s quiet for a second as he thinks to himself.
“You drive me crazy, you know that? You and that little attitude of yours—just makes me want to fuck it right out of you.”
He lowers his head closer to your neck. His lips lightly brush against your skin before he slowly kisses a line down your neck.
“Doubt you could.”
You keep your composure. Internally screaming at yourself that none of this was phasing you.
Because it definitely wasn’t.
Well, it shouldn’t—at least.
“Yeah? Should I try?”
He released an arm from your waist, his hand already creeping up underneath your baggy shirt. The rough pad of his fingers caressing your soft skin.
Butterflies.
It’s all you could feel at this moment.
He’s too smooth at this—that dumb, experienced but fine asshole.
You shouldn’t.
You really shouldn’t.
It was a bad idea—I mean, does this man actually have a drop of interest in you?
You turn around while in his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck. You’re massaging the back of his head with a hand, then play with the ends of his long, black hair. His hands rest on your waist.
“Shouldn’t you be doing this with a girl that you genuinely like?”
He looks at you with a raised eyebrow again, a face filled with disbelief. He scoffs, but a light chuckle comes out of his mouth right afterwards.
“You just really like to rile me up, don’t ya, princess?” He lowly mumbles.
“Yoongi—!” You yelp, holding onto him tighter.
He’s hooking his hands underneath your thighs, lifting you up and carrying you over to lay you on the couch. You remove yourself from him, allowing him to hover himself above you.
“I don’t know how clear you want me to be, but I feel like I made it pretty clear that I’m serious about you.”
“You think that not jerking off or not hooking up with random girls for a whole month is really proof that you’d change just for me?”
“Well, wasn’t that the deal?”
“I mean I accepted it because I felt bad and it just seemed like you really wanted to prove something to me.”
“Yeah—because you won’t believe me that I’m actually into you.”
“This feels like something you’d say to every other girl you hook up with.”
“God—will you quit bringing up other girls?! I couldn’t care any less about them if I have you in front of me.”
Butterflies. It’s the stupid butterflies again.
“Shut up,” you mumble, turning your face away from him to avoid his gaze.
A quick pause of silence. Not enough time to collect your thoughts.
“What? Did I get your heart to skip a beat? Is that why you won’t look at me right now?”
Without saying anything, you shook your head with your head still facing the other way.
“Cute,” he chuckles, his breath hitting your face.
You feel the weight of him above you disappear. His hands were wrapped around your ankles, tugging them towards him as he sat near your feet.
“At least look at me when I eat you out.”
“Shut up,” your face grows a shade of red out of embarrassment.
He couldn’t help but keep the teasing smile on his face. Yoongi positions himself that allows him to place your legs over his shoulders. He slowly lifts up your t-shirt that’s covering your lower half, leaning more towards your core.
“Such pretty panties,” he hums, “just for me to see, huh?”
“No,” you say without glancing down at him, “it was for Hoseok.”
With no warning, Yoongi’s taking his thumb to rub circles on the outside of your panties and against your clit. You slightly gasp in surprise, mumbling a “Yoongi, wait” under your breath.
“Of course you would say that. You really make me want to fuck that brattiness out of you. Turn you into a girl who wants just me—my girl.”
Lowering his thumb to where your hole would be at, he brings his face to your covered core and tries to bite on your covered nub but instead gently grazes his teeth against it. He takes his tongue and flattens it against it, making the fabric even wetter than before.
You gasp, immediately covering your mouth with your hands to stop yourself. You felt a shiver run down your spine, shots of electricity on the places he touches.
“Hmm, was that little gasp from me or him?”
You already knew you wanted to keep messing with him, make him mad just for fun. But before you could answer he’s already pulling your baby pink skimpy panties to the side, licking a long stripe from your hole to your most sensitive part.
“Ah—Yoongi!” You yelp with an airy voice.
He’s pulling back, chuckling, very happy with your answer.
“So sweet, princess. I think I’m gonna be addicted.”
The boy goes back to your heat, mouth going straight to your clit. He’s sucking on it, swirling his tongue around it as he does so. You remove your hands from your face, quickly bringing them to his hair. Your fingers get tangled in his long, black hair as you tug on him to bring his face closer to you. Yoongi laps up your essence that flows out of you, coating a little bit of his chin. You’re whining as he sloppily kisses your clit, feeling how wet you are from the mixture of his saliva and your own wetness.
You yelp again once you feel Yoongi’s thick, long finger slowly enter your hole.
“It just slid right in. Fuck—you’re so wet, baby.”
He hums against your clit, thrusting his finger slowly in and out of you, causing you to groan in pleasure.
“Yoon..gi—please—,” you whine with a choke, already feeling yourself go blank.
He’s already adding a second finger, curling it upwards and picking up the pace as he thrusts them into you.
“Fuck—pleasepleaseplease!!”
You didn’t know what exactly you were begging for, and neither did he. But it got him chuckling when he heard your little pleads.
“Cum on my face, baby, and I’ll give you whatever you’re asking for.” He places a couple kisses onto your inner thigh before he dives back into your pussy.
Your eyes are rolling back, your whole body feeling warm. Yoongi doesn’t waste any time on sucking on your little sensitive bead. Your body speaks for itself as loud squelching noises and your whimpers fill the room. He can feel you tightening around him already, a sign he knew that you were about to come undone. He’s plunging his fingers into you, making sure you’re fully taking them in. The slurping sounds and grunts he makes get louder, but not as loud as you were.
“Ah! Yoongi—!” You cried, digging the heel of your foot to his back, which allowed you to raise your hips up. He’s immediately pushing you back down, his free hand wrapped around your thigh in an attempt to stop you from moving.
“Cum,” he says, humming into your core, then immediately flicking his tongue against your clit.
Something in you snaps—it was as if he was able to control you, your legs start to shake as you finally cum on his fingers. He helps you ride out your high, slowly thrusting his fingers into you and moving his face to your inner thigh to pepper kisses onto it again.
“Good girl,” he coos, removing his fingers and lifting your legs off his shoulders to set them on either side of him. He watches as your breathing evens and your eyes flutter open. He’s rubbing circles with his thumb on top of your thigh as he holds onto them, enjoying this small moment.
“Use me like how you used that toy of yours in the photos and videos you sent me. Show me how you play with yourself, baby.”
“You’re too bossy.”
“But you like it,” he’s smiling, sitting against the armrest of the couch on the other side.
You sit up, closing your legs and tugging your t-shirt to show some modesty.
“Mmm, I do. But I think you’d like it even more if I was the bossy one.”
“Alright,” he chuckles, “go ahead and be bossy, princess.”
You carefully get up with wobbly legs and stand in front of the boy, who immediately turns his whole body so that he’s seated properly. You get on your knees and then sit on your heels, looking up at him with innocent yet slightly fucked-out eyes.
“I won’t be blindfolding you this time. But there’s still going to be no touching, so put your hands under your thighs and keep them there.”
He’s rolling his eyes with a small scoff.
“Not this shit again. You’ll leave me like last time.”
You laugh, giving him a gentle slap to his thigh.
“So do you not want me to do what I did in that video I sent you?”
He’s already shoving his hands under his thighs, impatiently waiting for you to start.
You start to pull down his sweatpants, along with his boxers and he helps you by lifting his bottom up. There you’re met with his hardened cock, sprung up and against his lower torso. Your hand immediately goes to the base of it to gently squeeze him, your fingertips barely able to touch. You glance up at him, carefully watching his strained face that’s asking for more.
You move your head closer, leaning in more a bit to gather up the saliva in your mouth and spit onto the tip of his cock. You slide your hand up and down to spread it around. Finally, you take your tongue and press it against his slit, your touch instantly making him hiss. Wrapping your lips around just the tip, you suck on it and swirl your tongue around the shape of it. He was on the thicker side, but with a decent length. You were unsure if you would be able to actually fit him in your mouth (or even in you), but nevertheless you were determined to make cum even if you had to completely stuff him in your mouth.
Slowly, you push your head down on him. You begin to bob your head, taking him in little by little. Having him barely halfway in your mouth already verified that he was in fact pretty big. You used your hand to wrap around whatever else you couldn’t reach, pumping his cock at the same speed as your mouth.
“Fuck—,” he hissed, “don’t push yourself too hard, baby.” His teeth were clenched together, doing what he could to stop himself from groaning.
This was what he has been waiting for: to be intimate with you. It’s what he was anticipating at the beginning, but he feels that the wait for it was making this whole experience feel too damn good.
Yoongi’s throwing his head back, listening to the most vulgar sounds coming from you as you choked and gagged on his cock. He’s looking back at you, watching the way you took him in with tears running down your face.
What a fucking sight.
“Look at me, baby. Eyes on me,” his voice gruff.
You follow his directions, looking at him through your eyelashes and eyes all watery. Your eyebrows furrowed as you push yourself down on him more, a trail of saliva leaking out of the corner of your mouth.
“So pretty,” he grunts. The only thing that he was missing right now was his hands being all over you, but he wasn’t willing to take the risk and make things turn around like how it did the first time.
You pull away with a little ‘pop’, giving him a sweet and innocent smile before using the tip of your tongue to trace the long and bulging vein underneath his cock. Once you make it back to the tip, you stick out your flattened tongue. With your hand still on the base, you move his cock against your tongue, moving it side to side and then roughly hitting your tongue with just the tip before him in again. You hum around him and swirl your tongue around him as you quickly bob your head.
He lets out another strained groan, followed by a hushed mumble of your name. You wanted to get him to cum, to make himself lose control just like how he did earlier. However, giving him head and seeing the way he was right now was turning you on. You could feel yourself throbbing, selfishly wanting a little more. Yoongi, on the other hand, didn’t want to finish off in your mouth. He wanted to be inside you; he had to finish inside you.
“Fuck. I can’t do this.”
Yoongi quickly takes out his hands from under his thighs and removes you from him, halting your movements. Quickly, he stuffs himself back into his sweatpants. He’s lifting you up again, his arms under your thighs and his body pressed against yours. You hold him tightly around his neck, clinging on to him like you were a koala.
“Room. Tell me now.”
“The first door down the hallway on the right.”
He’s speeding his way down there, sitting down on the bed first while he is holding on to you. Yoongi lays back, scooting himself upwards so that his head is more on your pillows. He positions you to sit on his crotch, but you move back onto his thighs to prevent yourself from grinding on his hard-on.
He’s caressing your sides as the two of you look at each other, eyes filled with lust.
“Let me see you ride me like how you do with your dildo. I won’t touch you this time, I swear,” he’s putting his hands behind his head, “please, baby.”
He was desperate. Insanely desperate.
And he looks cute to you when he’s desperate. You couldn’t blame him for feeling that way because you were feeling the same. Without saying anything, you lift up your hips and hover above his thighs. You pull his hard cock back out of his pants, holding it up as you position yourself above it.
“Wait—condoms—damn it!” He mumbles, “I didn’t bring any because I wasn’t really expecting to go far.”
You watch him groan in frustration, clearly mad at himself.
“Fuck–sorry. I’ll go buy some. I think I saw a gas station down the road? Just–fuck–please don’t lock me out, y/n.”
He finally looks at you, eyes met. He looked desperate. Absolutely desperate.
You’re biting your bottom lip out of habit, quietly thinking to yourself. You let go of his cock, allowing it to hit his lower stomach. You place yourself on top of it, your wet, bare folds against the length of his cock.
“Am I going to be the last person you’ll ever be fucking?”
You move your hips, gently grinding yourself against him to rile him up a bit, causing him to swear under his breath.
“You’re the only girl I ever want to fuck.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes with a smile on your face.
“I better be.”
He’s chuckling now, a big lopsided smile plastered on him, and a little less tense.
You’re raising your hips again, grabbing his thick cock and placing it under you. With your panties pushed to the side, you drag the tip of his cock against your wet folds, causing you to clench around nothing. The excitement and nervousness was causing you to shake a little, and he was immediately able to notice it. He grabs you by your wrist, your eyes follow along his arm and fall onto his face.
“If you don’t want to do this, don’t force yourself, okay?” He’s looking at you, his eyes soft and concerned for you. A whole different side to him.
You smile at him, leaning over to place a kiss on his lips—completely forgetting your meaning behind kisses and catching him off guard.
“I want this as much as you do.”
He’s looking at you, nodding his head with a dazed look, questioning his whole existence.
Did this mean…? Or was it an accident?
He still shouldn’t try to initiate another kiss from you—what if you just leave him again?
…Right?
Before he could get his thoughts together, he was already feeling your pussy wrap around the top portion of his cock. You’re letting out a whine as you slowly ease yourself down on him, just like you would with your toy. Yoongi hisses at you tightly squeezing onto him—god it was making him go insane.
“Y-yoongi,” you gasp, “t-too bi-g!”
You stay still on top of him, squeezing onto him uncontrollably as you wait for yourself to get used to him. Having him inside you definitely confirmed he was on the thicker side; it immediately had you rolling your eyes back at how full it made you feel. Although you weren’t moving, you were a little noisy—little mumbles of swears and his name or airy whines. It turned him on a lot, and it took a lot in him to not take over right now.
“Good girl,” he grunts, eyes focused on the look at your face. “You take me in so good.”
Your face felt hot, your mind was fogging up. The feeling of being stuffed was too good, but you were wanting something more. Your hips, as if you had no control over them, started to grind against Yoongi’s. You lean back, holding yourself up by placing your hands on top of Yoongi’s thighs. Your mouth hangs open as your hips move in circles.
“So pretty, baby,” he coos.
His eyes couldn’t leave at the view of your pussy sucking him in. It’s like you didn’t want him to ever remove himself from you. He takes his hand to move the front part of your panties to the side, exposing more of you. He brings his thumb to his tongue and gives it a little lick before bringing it back to you. He presses his thumb against your swollen and sensitive clit, drawing circles around it.
“Yoongi!” You squealed, your hips stuttering.
“Keep moving baby, you can do it.”
You’re begging for who knows what and mumbling his name in between. The sweetest moans and whimpers escaping your mouth was all music to his ears. He could listen to this all day.
The sight of you nearly losing yourself from his cock, how noisy you were from just barely grinding on him—Yoongi loved it all.
Fuck, he really loved it all.
He craved for more, though. This wasn’t enough.
“God, I can’t hold back. I’ve got to kiss you.”
He’s extending his arm out to you, placing his large hand behind your neck, pulling you closer to him. You press your body against him as you play on top of him. Your lips immediately find his. He’s kissing you with hesitation, afraid of you pulling back and ending it all. But your arms travel to its way to wrap around his neck, holding him close to you. It gave him the sense that you were okay with this. Both of his hands slither to the sides of your ass, gripping onto them as he spreads them apart and slaps your ass with a loud smack. His hands end up resting on the top of your ass, guiding you up and down as you bounced on his cock.
You’re groaning in pleasure, head going blank. He was kissing you as if he wanted to make sure he memorized every curve of your lip, the way your tongue felt as it was trying to fight for dominance with his, and how it felt too good to suck on your tongue to get a moan out of you.
He’s already pulling away, but your body didn’t want him to stop.
“Yoongi—,” you whimper with a pout on your lips, eyes glassy, “—more please.”
“More what, baby?”
“Just kiss me again, please–,” you whine.
He thought he was going absolutely insane.
Just those few words made his chest feel so heavy.
While keeping one hand on your ass, he takes the other and brings it to the back of your head, crashing your lips against each other. You keep yourself there, his hand moving back to your ass to help you move down on him as his hips continue to thrust upwards into you.
You’re moaning loud. Way too loud. And all he could do was swallow your moans—tongue exploring all over the inside of your mouth— or press his lips hard against yours. You part away from his lips, burying your face against the crevice of his neck.
“Yoongi—ah-,” you squeal, “fuck, please—!”
He’s chuckling at the way you weren’t making sense, mumbling anything that you could even spit out. It was cute—he was making you go dumb in the brain.
“You’re doing so good, baby—fuck,” his hold on your ass tightens, as he’s thrusting into you even harder.
He could feel your movements slowing, getting tired. It came to the point where you held your hips high while hovering over him, letting him thrust upwards as you’re leaning over and moaning into his neck.
With a couple more thrusts, he’s easily sliding out of you.
“Yoongiii—,” you whined, but he ignores it. Instead he’s sitting you two up, standing up and holding you up with his hands under your bottom, turning around and laying you on the bed this time. He pulls you down closer to the edge of the bed by your legs. You’re slowly pressing your legs together, missing him being in between you.
“Don’t leave,” you mumble softly with a pout on your lips. Your eyes glistening yet were filled with lust.
Yoongi’s eyes soften as he looks at you with adoration. He could feel his heart become fuller. And the urge to wrap his arms around you just to squeeze you tight become stronger.
Fuck—call him crazy because he must be really in love with you.
He had to make you his—it just felt right to have you.
He’s moving your legs to the side, allowing him to lean over and peck a soft kiss on your lips.
“I would never.”
Yoongi stands up straight, removing his hoodie and t-shirt to reveal his toned torso. He then sheds off his sweatpants and boxers, standing completely naked in front of you.
He’s tugging onto your panties, helping you remove them and tossing them somewhere in your room.
“This—,” he starts to push up your baggy shirt, “—off.”
You lift your arms and head up as he helps you get the shirt off of you, but your arms immediately fall on top of your breasts, covering them up.
His eyes roam around your body, taking mental photos for him to think about later.
“Don’t hide, baby,” he hums, taking his hands to pull your legs apart, exposing the lower part of your body. His hands go for yours, removing them from your breasts and pinning your hands above your head.
“Yoongi—!” You squeal.
“God, I’ve been waiting for these especially.”
He’s staring too hard at your perky, soft tits. A silver metal bar with two balls at the ends of it pierced right through both of your nipples. He knew you had them; he saw them right through your top the first time he met you. He just wanted to see it all underneath and in-person. Fuck, you were sexy. Too fucking sexy. Just looking at you makes him way too goddamn hard—he could probably just cum just like that. Even earlier with just your oversized t-shirt and your hair down, you were just as sexy.
He keeps one hand around your wrists and takes his free hand to your left breast, gently massaging it with your nipples in between his index and middle finger. He leans down to encase your hard nipple in his mouth, swirling his wet tongue around it, fiddling with the little piercing, before sucking on it.
You let out his name in an airy moan, arching your back instinctively. He releases you and moves his head higher, placing his lips on the soft skin of the upper part of your breasts, sucking and nibbling on it until it turns a nice shade of red.
“My pretty girl,” he’s mumbling against your skin.
He’s leaving a trail of kisses that lead to your other breast, switching hands so that he’s now groping the other breast he was just giving love to. Yoongi flattens his tongue against your nipple, allowing it to graze against it before he's using the tip of his tongue to draw circles around it. It seemed like it wasn’t much, but the sensations you were getting from it was just making you wetter. Your nipples were just so sensitive that your little moans and gasps were inevitable. Soon, he’s marking you up—a couple of love bites scattered around the flesh of your breasts.
“Yoongi—want your cock—please,” you mumble.
Pulling away, he looks at you—helpless and vulnerable underneath him. No bratty attitude or little unnecessary comments. Just you begging—wanting him and just him. It’s a sight he could definitely get used to.
He lets go of your wrists, but you keep them there. He’s grabbing his length, giving it a couple strokes before he runs the tip down your slit to collect your wetness, causing you to shiver.
“Anything for you, princess,”
He’s lining up himself in front of you, the tip slowly starting to sink in.
“Let me know if you want to stop–please. The last thing I want to do is hurt you,” he’s leaning over, head positioned next to your ear.
You nod your head, not trusting your mouth as he’s slowly sinking in. You’re scrunching your face, wincing a bit from still not being used to his size. He waits again for you to adjust again, making sure you’re doing okay.
He’s spreading your legs apart more, pushing your bent legs down to make more space. His hands rest on your waist, pulling back to slide himself out before going back in slowly. He was treating you as if you were fragile, his thrusts more gentle than how he was earlier. Despite how vocal you are with your little whimpers, it still wasn’t enough for you.
“Yoongi—more,” your eyes flutter open, “fuck me like I’m your slut.”
Your words threw him off, but it did manage to make him feel something.
He pulls all the way back and rams himself back into you with a hard thrust. You let out a loud moan of his name, eyes rolling back and closed shut. He keeps himself at a steady pace, making sure his thrusts are hard enough to get you to keep babbling nonsense.
“‘Like you’re my slut’, hm?” He’s chuckling, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip, tugging it gently. “Guess I forgot my baby likes being rough,” he starts to push him thumb into your mouth, your lips instantly wrapping around it.
“Suck.” He demands, and you do it shamelessly. Your hands go up to your breasts, cupping them underneath before massaging them.
He’s admiring the way you looked again—stuffed both ways. You’re making a mess around him and his thumb, while you were fondling your marked up tits, and your pussy just can’t help but keep sucking him right back in. Fuck. It’s heavenly.
“You look so pretty, princess. I want to be the only one who gets to see you this way.”
He’s snapping his hips harder, grunting with every move. He’s removing his thumb, but your mouth hangs wide open.
“Yoongi—fuck—ngh—!” You’re whining a lot, chanting his name as you beg for no reason.
“Yeah? Is my pretty slut going to cum?”
He brings his thumb to your clit, applying some pressure onto it before he starts rubbing it in circles. You were feeling lightheaded, vision blurry as tears started to form in your eyes. He thrusts into you as hard as he can, the sounds echoing off the walls.
“—Nnghh—Yoon—gi!” You choked.
He’s hovering over you, his free hand next to your head as it’s holding him up. Your thighs were almost pressed against your chest, sort of folding your body in half. This position allowed him to penetrate you even deeper, hitting you in all the right places.
“God!” He slams himself, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, “fuck!”
Yoongi quickens his speed with his thumb on your clit, making you clench tightly around him. He knew you were about to come. He’s already memorized your signals from earlier. You were on the brink of doing so, and he was just about at his limit too.
“‘m gonna fill you up with my cum,” he growls into your ear, “sluts like you like that, huh princess?”
“Please—!” You squeak, “want it so bad!”
Fuck—that does it.
He just couldn’t say no to you.
He’s standing up straight, hands back on your waist to hold you steady. If it was even possible, he was drilling into you even harder and faster. Eager to get the two of you to cum. You grip onto his muscular arms, fingernails digging into his skin, arching your back. Your panting becomes louder, but the obscene, wet squelching noises start to drown your moans. The knot inside you was about to come undone, you just couldn’t handle it anymore. With another moan of his name—and a couple other words—, you finally reach your high, cumming on his cock.
Yoongi could’ve sworn you mumbled a little ‘I love you’ as you came undone. Triggering him to not be able to hold it in anymore. He stutters in his movements, taking a couple long thrusts before he releases load, painting the insides of your walls white.
He gives you a couple weak thrusts, wanting to keep his cum deep in you before he removes himself. As he pulls out, he watches the mixture of you both slowly spill out of your abused hole. He’s running to grab a kleenex from on top of your dresser, cleaning up the mess you two have made.
Before he could even ask you if you were okay, you were fast asleep. You just couldn’t help it when your body was just so exhausted.
He’s chuckling at your sleeping figure, finding it cute that you fell asleep right after fucking.
—
Yoongi lifts up the notebook paper up to his face, squinting at the words scribbled onto it.
‘Thanks for the night. Went out for a little, so feel free to leave whenever. I’ll take care of cleaning :)!’
Fuck.
Fuck.
A ‘one-night-stand.’
Yoongi scoffs in disbelief.
He got played by you.
A quick fuck and that was just it.
He’s running his fingers through his dark, disheveled hair, hand moving down to rub his face. He groans into his palm, plain annoyed.
He’s quickly getting up, putting his sweats over his boxers as he searches for his hoodie.
Standing there near the edge of the bed, his eyes scan the room to see it nowhere to be found.
Perhaps you wore it out?
He's smiling to himself, the thought of that happening actually making him feel giddy.
He opts to just wear the shirt he was wearing underneath, dragging his feet across the floor as he heads over to open your bedroom door. It then finally hit him that he had the freedom to roam around your apartment, wait for you to come back home, or make an attempt at figuring out where you might’ve gone.
He entered the awfully quiet living room, your papers still scattered on your coffee table.
He could still smell the faint aroma of coffee that’s lingering in the room, as if someone just recently made a fresh cup of coffee—he knew you still had to be around here or that you had just barely left.
Yoongi’s looking around, checking to see if you’ve taken your keys with you—nope.
But you did leave the door to your balcony open.
Ah-ha…
And there you were.
Outside on the small balcony of your apartment, body against the railing. You were watching the calmness of the morning, or whatever that was out there, with a coffee mug in your hand. He’s walking up to you, admiring how tiny and cute you looked, drowning in his hoodie before pressing his back against yours. He wraps his toned arms around your shoulders. He takes his hand and cups your chin, tilting your head back so that you can see him upside down. Yoongi brings his sleepy face close to you, pressing a firm yet tired kiss against your lips. Your lips immediately reciprocate, feeling his hand that was on your chin slide down to your neck. He pulls away with a low groan—either because of you or that he's tired (probably a mix of both).
You tilt your head forward, looking back at the mellow street.
“Too much creamer,” he mumbles sleepily, licking his lips. He brings his head next to the side of yours, resting it on top of your shoulder. His breath hits against the side of your neck as he exhales.
You chuckle at his comment.
“Did I scare you?”
Yoongi’s quiet for a second, tightening his hold around you. He brushes his lips against the side of your neck, then leaves gentle kisses on the same spot.
“A little…but I am at your apartment, so I would’ve waited for you to come home.”
You’re smiling big.
Damn. He got you. He’s really got you smiling like a whole doofus. Guess you didn’t think this through.
“Ah—,” you groan with a laugh afterwards, bringing up your hands to push him away, “go home already.”
His hold loosens as you push your way free. He’s chuckling too as he watches you walk away all flustered and to the door. He’s quick to catch up with you, closing the door behind him as he enters. You don’t realize that Yoongi was still following you when you felt his arms wrap around your waist again once you set your coffee on the counter.
“There’s enough space for both of us here.”
“What makes you think I’d want you to stay here?”
He hums, resting his chin on top of your head.
“Mmm, weren’t you the one who told me that you loved me first?”
“It was in the heat of the moment.”
“Ah…,” he pauses, “and the kisses you were begging from me?”
“Also in the heat of the moment.”
Yoongi scoffs, turning you around so that you’re facing him. He’s bending down to pick you up with his hands under your thighs, sitting you on top of the counter. He leans in to kiss you slowly and you reciprocate, arms already wrapping around his neck.
When he pulls away, catching you with a little pout on your face which makes him chuckle.
“‘Heat of the moment’ my ass—you seemed to like that kiss and you’re giving me a look that’s telling me you want more, hm?”
You shook your head.
He leans in to peck your lips once, twice—a third time.
“Shouldn’t you be pushing me away since you don’t like me that way?”
You roll your eyes at him, shaking your head afterwards. A small pause of silence.
He wanted to hear you say it. Loud and clear.
“I do like…,” you mumble, trailing off. You turn your head away, looking over to the side.
“Louder for me, baby.” He takes his hand and brings your face to look at him again.
You sigh, rolling your eyes.
“You’re cute and all—,” you mumble, but quickly add on, “—but I want to get to know you more first.”
You watch the side of his lips slowly turn upwards. He’s smiling big, as if he finally won the gold medal in a marathon. Then he’s chuckling—both in relief and because of you being so cute.
‘Finally’ he thought. He’ll take what he can get.
“I told you baby,” he’s bringing his hands up to cup your face, a thumb caressing one of the sides of your cheek, “if I want something, I’m going to do whatever it takes to get it. Even if that means taking you out on a million dates to get you to be my girlfriend. That’s been my plan for the past few weeks.”
Rolling your eyes again with a smile. You pucker your lips, signaling for him to give you a quick kiss, which he does with no hesitation.
“You’re so annoying.”
With his hands still cupping your face, he squishes your face, your lips even more puckered which makes it hard for you to speak.
“I’m all yours, got that? I’m not going to have a one-time-thing with you.”
“You sure about that?”
“You really think I’d just let you go just like that?” He scoffs, with a smile. “You’re mine.” He’s removing his hands from your face, resting them on the sides of the counter top, trapping you in between.
“Okay, okay,” you snort with a chuckle, “d’you want breakfast at least?”
He’s eyeing you up and down, a small smirk on his face. You watch the tip of his tongue peak out, then licking his lips.
“Yoongi…,” you whine, “it’s too early,” you roll your eyes with a small smile on your face.
“It’s never too early, baby.” His hands move around to your waist, quickly embracing you into a tight hug, pulling you close to his body.
“Can’t you give me some more time to rest?”
He’s bringing his head to the side of your neck, lighting pressing his lips against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses from the base of your neck to below your earlobe.
“I’ve given you plenty,” he mumbles against your skin.
“God you really are annoying.”
“You still like me though.”
As if he already knew what you would say, he gently bites down on the spot on your neck that he's been stuck on, causing you to let out an airy yelp.
“—I didn’t say anything!”
“You were thinking about saying it.”
“How would you know?”
He’s laughing at your attitude—he found you so fucking cute. He’s resting his head on your shoulder, his breath hitting the side of your neck. He’s tightening his hold around you a little more, while you bring a hand to his head to comb your fingers through his hair and gently massage his scalp.
There’s a small pause of silence. It wasn’t awkward—in fact it felt comfortable between the two of you, almost as if it was needed. This was all sort of new to Yoongi, and he found himself liking this a little too much. Sharing the same bed, waking up to you still around and in his clothes, morning kisses, your little attitude that he enjoys poking at, and the warm and tingly feelings he gets when he’s wrapped around you.
Maybe this is what he needed in his life—someone to finally smack him around and hold him down. Make him work harder than usual to get what he wants—or not give him immediately what he wants. Someone who will switch things up and surprise him. It just so happens that out of everyone he’s hooked up with, you managed to do all of that—and now you even got him wrapped around your finger.
