𝓽𝓪𝔂⁷

𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬.

[singularity4joon]

ꫂ❁𝓽𝓪𝔂 =⸝⸝your frequent Ultraviolence & Mono listener 🙈

⋮your fav joon bias :3 ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷʳᶦᵗᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʲᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵃᵉ

⌗ — ✎ - ,, nsfw! fics made for u to pop in your music, lay back, imagine, and enjoy ⪩. .⪨

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i make art too ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 🎨

[singularity4joon]

hey. so, since this is social media, and no one knows who i am in real life, so imma get this off my chest.

total vent, cause i hate speaking of these things personally (i never do this), feel free to completely ignore this post, or read if you really want to.

i’m just emotional bc of this whole bts situation, so imma type some of my feelings away (and tonight will be for my social anxiety… yay). that everyone thinks i’m okay. an once in a while experience, i just lie awake at night and feel… empty. social media as a whole right now is draining, and i literally just deleted tik tok a couple weeks ago??? i always feel wrong and so out of place and just there that i just wonder what im doing with myself. why am i so exhausted and shy to do anything? would i be seen as more if i don’t tremble at the thought of being watched by many? where returning to my classmates is hell, it even haunts my dreams, and i lay awake at the edge of night and scare myself with the thought of what the next day might come. would i have to speak in front of others? would i be forced to partake in a group activity that i don’t even want to do? should doing something as simple as boring kids games with my friends frighten me with the fact that people would see me vulnerable? that, at the age of 13, i would use my own health issues as an advantage to get myself out from playing KICKBALL during gym because i was too terrified to stand in front of the class? even if i was in the field, i was terrified. i couldn’t catch the ball, some boy yelled at me, and it still haunts my mind many years later? that, i get called lazy by my peers bc i don’t want to do anything with them, but how do i explain that it’s the anxiety keeping me chained? that stepping out of that bubble sends me into a silent panic that i endure alone because i can’t speak up about any of my pain?

anyways, my babiesss, have a good day or night. i love you all so much, genuinely. xoxo

[vanilladeer333]

[singularity4joon]

oh how the vast majority of my fics are bc i love spacing out while listening to my playlists. music is my everything, my light and joy. thank you music for existing, for i wouldn’t have a better cause

[singularity4joon]

white feather hawk tail deer hunter 👀

[singularity4joon]

bossa nova reverie.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ | virgin! taehyung x fem! reader |

wc: 5664

summary : he’s the shy jazz singer at your local bar, and you just so happen to become intoxicatingly infatuated with him and his hands.

warnings: porn with no plot, fast burn, multiple orgasmic taehyung, pathetic taehyung, sub taehyung, soft dom reader, shy taehyung, fingering, finger sucking/ and or licking, taehyung starts crying, male overstimulation, devotion, harsh and foul languages, smut of course, fluff,

a/n: coming from someone who’s deeply in love with his hands, you bet i’ve been dying to write this for some time now. funny enough, though, i’m down for making the male dom’s but idk… shy men really do something to my heart. so, here goes my girls who know what they want and get it. hard.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ ─ Your friends told you to come for the "experience" to "get out of the house", to "just hangout with us for tonight, we really want you."

You agreed. You remember the look on their face as you nodded, with brows drawn together and lips barely titled downwards in a worrisome frown - you knew it all, you knew they thought you were being hesitant.

But, truth be told, you were itching to go out.

Work had aten your ass lately, and it had barely left you any time to relax your feet no matter how bad the arches ached. Your eyes burned late at night, begging for a rest and to feel the satisfaction of slumber and no more drowning in the blue light of your computer screen.

You had this weekend off, much to your delight. You knew it would be best lie down, to feel that rest you've been craving for weeks on end. But that same body of yours itched to socialize. To go out and stain your tastebuds with liquor and laugh so hard with your friends your stomach turned taut.

Your body is ruined anyways. Going against rest wouldn't do it any harm.

"I'm fine," you had reassured them. They still looked hesitant, and your eyes were still basking in faint, dark circles. "I've been praying to go out soon. If I don't show up, that's loser activity from me."

"Meet us at Nova's at nine," They gave you a faint smile before walking away.

Multiple hours later, when the sky had bled into soft pinks and purples, you changed into a quick, short dress and stepped out of your apartment into the busy nighttime streets. Distant car honks and chatters had echoed off the tall buildings and you let yourself smile, ready to finally relieve the weighted stress that's pressing down your shoulders for these past few weeks.

By the time you pushed open the heavy wooden doors of Nova's, smooth jazz was already vibrating through the soles of your shoes, thrumming a low beat that drowned out the last remnants of work static in your brain.

Your friends were already stalked out at the bar, a stampede of empty glasses and bright grins cut through the dim, amber-lit haze. You noticed Maya first, who was shouting to get another shot from the overworked bartender.

"She actually decided to come!" Celine shouted, pulling you down onto the tall, leather stool and immediately thrusted a heavy crystal glass beaded with condensation into your hands. "My girl, are you okay? Not too tired?"

"I am just happy I can head out with you guys," you giggled, reaching out to take a quick sip from your glass. The alcohol burned the edges of your throat and you hummed in delight. The heavy weight on your shoulders had lift for just a fraction, traded for the chatter of your friends and the hazy, smoke-kissed air of the club.

For the next hour, you let yourself drown in it. You laughed until your ribs ached, your eyes watering as you got into a kindhearted argument with Maya about your work. Your exhaustion was still there, sadly so, but the liquor and your nice friends numbed the edges.

Around ten, the ambient chatter of the main room began to shift. The loud, overplayed music abruptly faded out, replaced by a low murmur from the crowd near the stage. A lukewarm halo casted over the small stage cornered by a brick wall. A sleek grand piano sat waiting in the center, its polished surface catching the amber glow.

Celine grabbed your arm, nails slightly digging into your skin as her bright eyes glistened under the lights. "Oh, you're going to love this! The music is changing to a simple playlist to a live hearing!"

You raised a brow. "Is that so?"

"Ah, it's Taehyung Kim," the bartender, a man in his early thirties smirked from behind the counter. He shook a mixture of liquor in his metal tumbler, the sound of ice swirling cutting through your attention. "He comes here a lot on the weekends. Dude has an amazing voice, I'll tell you that."

Faint clapping came from the small crowd ahead of the stage, caused by the appearnce of a tall, blonde man you had never seen before. His cheeks were stained coral, the flush flowing down the sharp of his neck as he sat himself down on a couch, clutching his microphone hard enough his knuckles were ghostly. A few background singers walked in after him, taking a seat behind his fidgetly presence.

The overhead amber light caught the soft, fluffy strands of his blonde hair, highlighting the delicate slope of his nose and the faint and nervous tremor in his long fingers as they hovered over his bobbing lap. His bottom lip sat bitten between his mouth, the corners of his flesh tilted into a slight downward.

Soft, uneven eyes flickered to the smiling crew behind him and he gave a small nod before opening the heart shape of his lips. The bone in his throat bobbed, almost like he was nervous, as he started to hum along to the jazzy undertones under his voice.

He sounded deep and velvety, a voice dropped down of honey from heaven itself. You almost felt like you could feel his voice in your body, settling straight in your marrow.

But what truly captured your gaze, or, what held it captive - was his hands.

Long, elegant fingers gripped onto the obsidian of his microphone with a combination of immense strength and agonizing gentleness. The veins on the back of his hands stood out sharply under the amber stage lights, tracing the subtle tension in his frame. For someone who looked so scared and shy, he sung very well.

You found yourself crossing one leg over the other, leaning over the wood of the bar until your elbows were pressed into the cool. You were completely transfixed by the way his hands just... existed, and how such an art fit so well on a defined look of all of him.

Beside you, Celine nudged your shoulder, whispering something into your ear, but her voice was nothing more than simple, ignorable noise.

When the song finally drifted into a soft, lingering silence, the club shifted into applause. Taehyung immediately shrank back, his shoulders curving inward as he offered a small and adorably awkward bow, quickly pulling his hands into his lap like they burned him.

His signing went on and on.

And you the realization that you not only wanted him, but his hands... had churned your stomach, on and on.

But when he eventually ended his stage, the background singers bowing and him smiling shyly at the crowd, you had already one goal echoing through your mind.

Feel those fingers.

Barely any time had passed before you watched, heart beating widely as he vanished behind the curtains. You turned toward your friends, gathering your purse to the side of your body.

"I'm gonna head out, might be back." You said to them with a smile. "I'm going shy boy hunting."

They smiled back at you like they knew exactly who you were looking for. "Go ahead. Have fun."

You slipped away from the tall stool you sat on, navigating your way through the back booths and headed towards the narrow corridor where he disappeared.

The air back there was cooler. Flickering lights sat above the empty room, glistening off a row of instruments that sat untouched. You were sure the place would've been empty if you hadn't spot a faint, scared glimpse of movement.

Blonde hair caught your vision and you noticed him, humming quietly under his breath as he packed up his microphone and wallet in a tan, cheap crochet bag covered in music note stitchings. The last of his backup singers disappeared out the back door, leaving a sliver of moonlight until the door sealed shut.

When you walked closer, Taehyung froze instantly, his long, delicate fingers hovering over the strap of his crochet bag as if he had been caught doing something forbidden.

Slowly, he turned around, his wide, doe-like eyes blinking in the dim light. The flush on his cheeks returned instantly, spreading down his neck, and he pressed his back slightly against the edge of the table as if looking for a way to melt into the brick wall behind him.

"O-Oh," he mumbled and you almost melted right there. His voice was even softer up close. He looked down, his gaze nervously tracing the floor between you before looking back. "The show's over. If you're looking for the exit, or the bar, it's back that way."

You glanced down at his hands, dragged a bottom lip between your teeth, before looking back at his avoidant eyes.

"No, No, I'm not looking for that." You took a slow step forward, not missing the way his breath hitched. "I was actually interested in you, believe it or not."

His eyes flickered up to meet yours.

"I like your hands."

And boom, his blush immediately got ten times worse. You watched as his underlip slightly trembled, almost as fast as his slender fingers.

"What?"

"And your face too. Don't get me wrong, you're very adorable."

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing sharply as his large, expressive hands instantly clenched into awkward fists at his sides, as if he suddenly didn't know what to do with them now that they weren't safely hidden.

"You..." He stammered, his soft voice cracking just a fraction on the single syllable. "I... thank you."

You wondered if he wanted to bolt or melt into the floorboards.

"I mean it... Taehyung," and the mention of his name made him choke on his spit. "I listened to you out there. You completely owned that room. The least I can do is be honest about why I followed you."

"That's... nice," He ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair, messing the strands up even further, his fingers trembling ever so slightly against his scalp. "Not like I don't get compliments, I do get compliments. A-a lot, but still, it's a nice thing to hear. That was nice. And sweet. Thank you."

You took a step closer, closing the safe boundary he kept between the two of you. The sweet scent of his cologne - something woody and rain kissed - drifted over you, completely intoxicating.

"O-Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't even asked your name," he said quietly, looking down at you. "That was rude of me.."

"Y/n," you kept yourself calm, even though your insides were blazing up a needy storm. "And you're not being rude. There's no need to worry."

His lashes fluttered down, the soft hairs setting softly against the high bone of his cheek. He swallowed hard, so hard you could hear the faint click.

"...Pretty name," he whispered. "Very."

His eyes couldn't stay on one spot. To your shoulders, the ground, line of instruments, and back to your eyes - you realized then that he was avoiding one spot; the thin of your dress over your breasts. Nipples aching through the fabric, needy for the man who acted like a scared mouse under your gaze.

You hummed and took a step closer.

"I'm sorry. I knew to keep myself braless just in case someone like you showed up," you murmured. "And look where we are..."

He choked. Loudly.

"Y-You... ah-"

"You can look at them, Y'know. You don't have to be respectful, I don't care at all. I want your pretty eyes on me at all times, Taehyung."

Pupils trembling, lashes barely hanging onto a droplet of a salty, desperate tear - his gaze settled down to your dress as you took a step closer.

"Do you like them?" You asked.

He hummed, realized he did, then froze. "I-I didn't... I don't-"

"You're hard, Taehyung."

His hands shot down, knuckles ghostly white as he tugged the brown bagginess of his shirt over his jeans. His shirt just barely reached the edge of the visible lump pulsing in his pants before he gave up with a small cry.

"I'm sorry-"

You reached out, your hands sliding up to gently cup his face. His skin was warm, and you felt him instantly freeze up under your touch, his breath hitching hard in his throat.

"I'm very intrigued by you, Taehyung, do you know that?" You hummed, sliding the pad of your thumb against the coral flush. "Maybe more than intrigued..."

He was shaking.

"You can move away, hon. I won't ever stop you."

"Oh, ah-" he shuddered, lips slightly smiling at the permission you had handed him. But he hadn't moved. Not even a single inch. "I'm... ah, okay. I don't... want- to."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Good. I have a deal for you, hun, and before I speak about it - you should know I wouldn't be disappointed at all if you decline. Okay? A simple no and everything will be fine."

The bone his his throat bobbed.

Your other hand reached out, snaking around his neck. Your arms were now fully straddling his flushed head as he looked down at you, trembling like he were to die.

"Let me feel your hands, and I'll let you do whatever you want to me." You said gently, raising yourself on your toes to cause your breath to fan over his cheek. "You like the idea, hm?"

You watched as his body gave a full reaction, body freezing in a tense so hard it was as if he were electrocuted. He blushed even harder, pupils slightly dilating.

"Oh... that's..."

"A no?"

"No-" he said quickly, then choked. "No, as in no to your no. I... it's an acceptation, actually. As long as it's okay with you, ah, but I might be... embarrassing."

His long, sensitive fingers - the same ones that had just commanded an entire room of strangers - hovered uncertainly at his sides before one of his hands came up, instinctively resting over your wrist as if to anchor himself.

You felt your stomach churn, along with a squeeze in your frantic heart. "You're cute."

Taehyung let out a shaky, disbelieving breath, a nervous little huff that ended in a quiet laugh.

"Can I... kiss you?" You asked, curling your fingers in to glide your nail against his cheek.

Taehyung froze completely, the air leaving his lungs in a harsh gasp. His wide eyes darted from your lips straight up to your gaze, searching for any hint of hesitation. You felt him grow hot under you, along with a thunder hammering in his chest.

Instead of answering with words, his hands - which had been hovering uncertainly at your wrists - slid upward, his long, trembling fingers tangling into the hair at the nape of your neck like an anchor.

"Okay..." he fluttered his eyes shut. "Y-Yes.”

Your grasp around his head tightened as you titled your head up further, lips parting as you collided them against his trembling flesh. He was completely frozen, yet a warm and cinnamon tasting sweetness that had your body swaying on your own toes, completely breathless.

You hummed into his mouth, sliding your tongue into his mouth to glide against his, all raw and clumsily, leaving the shaking man to whimper quietly under your grasp. You smirked against him, inching yourself closer until you were pressed right against his frame.

That's when you felt him.

The erection you saw moments earlier, just this time poking roughly into your lower stomach, the roughness of his needs twitching under you in a harsh jolt, and yet another whimper had placed into your mouth.

You moaned a soft noise into the kiss, your fingers tightening against his jaw to pull him even closer, his cock sliding against your body. He gave a full body shudder, one you almost believed was painful for him, until his hands reached out again to hold gently around your waist.

You pulled away, lips glistening under the flickering light.

"Sit down on that couch."

He didn't give a single second to spare. He gave you a tiny nod before scrambling over toward the black, leather couch, sinking his body onto the cushion with a nervous sigh. You followed after him, sound of your heels clinking against the tile almost beating over the sound of his heavy, frantic breathing.

You pried his legs open, heat swallowing your senses as you reached out to grab ahold of his trembly hands. Your thumb brushed over the strongest vein, the hard edges of his skin blurring the corners of your vision.

"Has anyone ever told you that you've got the most desirable hands?" You titled your head, inching his tense fingers to your face. "Or begged to be fingered? To feel your slim fingers slide into their body? To have your trembles play with every single nerve?"

He lowered his head until a curtain of his fluffy blonde hair swept over his asymmetrical, doe eyes, completely shielding himself from the desire you kept swarm in your gaze. His ears were beat red, desire or embarrassment.

"N-No," he admitted. "I've never..."

"Fingered?" You concluded.

He nodded. Faintly.

"Have you ever had sex, hon?" You dropped his left hand onto your cheek, bathing in the way his skin felt against yours.

He shook his head, his eyes sewn shut.

"Hm... why?"

He shrugged, his fingers kneading absentmindedly against your cheek. "Too... shy."

"And yet you can sing on stage?"

"It's... different," he replied, his voice breaking in the last syllable. "Really different."

"Can you tell me so?" You asked, tilting your head closer to his grasp as you brought the pad of his fingers to the swell of your lip. He gasped, the sound quiet when your tongue brushed against the honey of his skin.

"O-Oh, well... - what are you-" he whimpered, hips locking into nothing when you slid his index finger into your mouth, his digit stretching past the flesh of your cheek.

You slightly hollowed your cheeks in, urging him to continue.

"R-Right. Ah, when it comes to intimacy... it feels like an act where you share your most vulnerable moments with someone-"

You slid his middle finger past your lips, tongue swirling around the point where you felt a part of his vein throb just as hard as the erection beating in his pants.

"...And most women, they like it when the men... w-well... I guess are the opposite of me."

You slid his fingers down further until he felt the softness of the edge of your tongue. You gagged around his hand, and he flinched, ready to back away but you held his hand in place.

"...And on stage... I guess, stage is just a mask of who someone is. On stage, I-I can take a deep breath in, sing, and earn money to keep me eating-"

A slight nibble to his skin. An intake of his breath.

"...I can show my best talents to others even when my insides are being burned apart."

You hummed, removing his fingers from you with a wet plop. You watched him watch his fingers, taut skin shuddering under the glistening lights as you pulled out the thick of his thumb.

"Press down on my tongue, okay?" You said softly, keeping your eyes fixed on his as you slid his thumb past your lips.

As you expected, his motion was shaky when he applied pressure to your throat, but it was perfect in the most lewd way it had you moaning against his hand. Your tongue swirled where he applied his weight, hollowing your cheeks in until it took the breath away from your throat.

He replied with a low vibrancy noise, a sob mixed with a whimper, that had swam through the air and settled like honey onto your skin. His ears were bright red and you never so badly wanted to nibble the color away.

You set a simple, slow motion sucking on his finger, skin tightening under you. His breathing became irregular, but still soft and comfortable enough to lead you to keep going.

He closed his eyes, leaning his body back further against the couch cushion. You moved further between his legs, fully hard erection dangerously close to your stomach as you stared up at him with half-hooded eyes, tracking your gaze on the constellation of moles over his skin.

"Open your eyes," you stopped sucking to breathe, other hand inching closer to his abdomen. "Look straight into my eyes and I'll rub your cock, okay? Do you want that?"

His eyes fluttered open, lashes fluttering like broken wings. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the couch cushions dipping under his weight as he leaned back further, his chest heaving harshly.

Your hand inched closer across the taut skin of his abdomen, and you watched his throat bob as he swallowed hard. "Keep looking at me."

Your fingers finally reached the straining fabric of his pants, cupping the hard length of his cock through the material and feeling it twitch and throb under your palm. He was overly hard already, the outline thick and insistent with a damp spot of precum soaking through as you rubbed slowly.

His hips jerked involuntarily, a soft whimper escaping his lips that vibrated through the air like the earlier sob, and you pressed your stomach closer, letting the head of his erection nudge against your skin.

His eyes stayed fixed on yours, though they were wavered with shy hesitation, pupils dilating as you increased the pressure just enough to make him gasp.

His thighs clenched around you, free hand that wasn't thrusting into your mouth clenching the leather cushion beside him until the leather creaked.

"Does that feel good?" You whispered, leaning in to breathe his words over his fingers glistening with your saliva.

Your other hand worked to drag his zipper down with agonizing slowness.

The sound of the metal teeth parting filled the space between you, occupied with his nervous gasping. Your hand slipped inside, skin meeting the heat of his cock. He let out a choked moan that made your own pussy clench in anticipation.

"I want you to finger me first," you ordered.

His eyes grew wide, the single freckle in his eye glistening under unshed tears. "W-What? I-I don't know h-how..."

"And I will guide you through," you said softly, leaning in to kiss a vein on his hand. "You remember the deal, don't you? It includes me feeling your hands in me, not in my mouth."

"It won't please you... I-I don't know what to do-"

"It will. Taehyung." Your eyes narrowed. "It really will. Trust me."

"M'kay," he nodded, eyes glistening. "I'll... do it."

"Good boy," you said softly, inching your body upwards so you were straddling his lap. Erection slid past your thigh and he gasped, hips bucking until the damp of your panties glide against his tan jeans.

You brought his hand down your silky dress, leaving his finger pads soft against your skin when you inched it down to your heat. You placed your hand over his, forcing him to palm you through the dampness.

"Hook your fingers around the fabric," you ordered and he did, slender fingers moving in a hesitancy, gasping loudly when he made contact with your bare pussy. Your arousal coaxed his fingers just like how you wanted, mixing through his fingers like he'd done this before. "Glide your middle finger through my pussy."

He swallowed hard, whole body shaking but eyes undeniably determined as he slowly glide his digit up your folds. You gasped and arched your body closer to his hand in a slow, desperate hump.

"That good," you said breathlessly, lips parted. "Reach up further, do you feel that? My throbbing mess. I need you to rub it, okay? Rub it until you can see me spiraling for you, hon."

He nodded, staring straight at you as his fingers stopped right at your clit, applying a hard enough pressure to leave you moaning into the air. Arousal drenched in the tip of his finger, he listened to your instructions and started to rub slow, agonizing circles.

"This good?" He asked, his voice quivering.

"Perfect," you whimpered, buckling your hips harder against his hand. "Continue that."

And he did, fingers far from steady but pressured enough to blur the corners of your vision with a white, hot flash.

His cock jerked violently in your grip, pulling you down harder onto his exploring touch. Your wet sounds echoed in the air as you got his fingers wet completely, his cock throbbing hard like it might burst completely.

His fingers faltered for a second under the slick pressure of your clit, but you rocked your hips down further to force that trembling finger to grind against the swollen nub.

"Push it in," you breathed, voice ragged as you tightened your fist around the base of his cock and giving it a slow, twisting stroke that milked him through. "Slide your middle finger into my cunt, Taehyung - feel how tight and wet I am for you."

His breath stopped, eyes locked on yours with a mix of terror and hunger, and he obeyed. He thrust the single finger up until the tip reached your entrance with a plop.

Your walls fluttered greedily around the feeling, clenching hot and slick as he sank knuckle deep, the stretch making your thighs quake on each side of his lap.

You moaned low in your throat, grinding down to take him deeper. "That's it - curl it, feel that spongy spot inside? Make me feel good."

You stroked a long pull on his cock, the veins tensing with every deliberate twist you gave him. He whimpered, hips jerking upward so the head of his dick nudged against the underside of your hand, leaving a sticky trail of precum across your skin.

"Oh god - it's so warm... so fucking wet," he gasped, voice cracking as he curled the finger experimentally, rubbing against your inner walls in a clumsy but eager rhythm.

Your strokes sped up just a fraction, working his leaking cock as his finger pumped in and out of your pussy.

"Add another," you urged, burying your face into his neck as you guided his free hand to your hip for leverage. "Two fingers. Stretch me while you rub my clit with your thumb."

He hummed in the same gasp as a whimper, the second finger sliding in with a delicious burn. Your thighs tightened, mind reeling, his thumb reaching out to circle around your swollen throb.

And he begun to curl his two fingers inside of you along with the torturous rubbing he gave your clit. You bit into his neck with a cry, rolling your hips forward to chase the burning stretch his fingers had gave you.

"That's it," you gasped, fastening the desperate hump of your hips. "Continue that, ah-"

"Oh-" he choked, buckling his cock harder into the pump of your fist. "I-I can't."

"Can't what?"

"I don't... know," he stuttered, lower lips quivering. "I've never felt this... good. F-Fuck."

You kept your hips at a fast motion, lips open as you chased the tight knot forming tight in your lower stomach. Your legs shook against his, who was too whimpering like crazy.

His head fell back against the couch, a single tear rolling down his cheek. And before you could know, a loud noise came from his mouth along with the spill of hot, thick fluid webbing through your fingers.

The feeling had your body locking, hips jerking with one single last thrust. The knot tore roughly, electrocuting shockwaves throughout your whole frame as a load of your come soaked through your panties and his fingers.

You crawled off his lap but continued your harsh twists and pumps all over the trembling thickness of his cock. His body convulsed again, a bead of sweat crawling down his temple as yet another release jerked out of his cock.

You brought your lips to his length, tongue out to gather his release and swallow down the desperate airway of your throat. His arousal trailed down your chin and down the valley of your breast, mixing with the coldness of the room.

"A-ah, Y/n-" he cried out, tears spilling out his cheeks when you flickered your tongue over the swollen head. He was squirming under your touch, unable to stay still as your mouth sunk down his weight full. "N-No, Y-Yes, I... o-oh, please..."

He was sobbing under you.

You continued to taste him, his fluids staining your throat as you curled your tongue around the hard edge of his veins. He cried and whimpered louder and louder, his cock twitching in a warning for yet another third release.

You hollowed your cheeks in, bobbing your head up and down before placing a salty kiss to his head. "I-I can't..." he warned before crying out, his cock giving a harsh jolt as yet another load swallowed down your throat.

You backed away from his length, a line of saliva mixed with arousal snapping between your mouth until it fell on your chin. You watched him cry with soft eyes, sticking your tongue out to lick the salt off your lips.

"Can you take more, hon? Or do you want to stop?"

His eyes closed roughly for a second, a small hiccup coming from him, before opening again. He looked back into your eyes, cheeks stained with tears.

"What do y-you mean?"

You reached out to grab ahold of his hands, sliding the rough palms under your dress until they were cupping over your breasts.

"Do you want me to continue by riding your thick cock? Fucking you and taking away your virginity?"

He shuddered, then nodded. Fastly.

"I want more," he admitted.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. Again.

"I need to hear you fully say it."

"I want to feel you. Please. I want you to ride me, be my first ever e-experience."

"Good," you smiled, placing a lingering kiss on his sweaty temple as you pushed your panties down your thighs, his hands still squeezing your breasts. You hovered yourself until his tip touched the mess of your entrance, leaving the both of you mewling until you lowered down.

The stretch was immaculate. It burned and pained, but everything about him inside of you felt perfect. You rolled yourself further down, chasing the way he whimpered and twitched inside of you, the hard of his cock swelling until every inch in you was burned.

"Fuck, stretch me perfectly, hon," you placed your hands over his, prompting him to give a tiny squeeze to your breast. And once he was settled, cock fully hard inside of you again, that's when you started to give a slow roll of your hips.

Slow, deliberate at first. A friction that was good enough to leave him crying again, but not too harsh to send him over the edge.

The feel of him inside of you made every feeling of your nerves twist and pull. Your thighs and face were on fire, along with the heat of his hands kneading your breast, thump reaching out to twist and pull at your nipple.

You fastened your pace, every harsh bounce stabbing a moan from your throat. He was sobbing but held you tighter, pushing you down impossibly harder onto his cock. The swollen head battered against your cervix in a relentless pace that made your inner walls flutter and spasm.

"Fuck, Taehyung, your cock feels like heaven," you moaned, voice ragged as you leaned forward to grind your clit against the base of his length while his hands clung desperately to your breasts.

Lean fingers sunk into the soft flesh as his thumbs rolled and pinched your stiff nipples, twisting just enough to draw sharp gasps from your lips while his own mouth hung open in a silent gasp of overwhelming sensation. He whimpered beneath you, hips rolling up to meet every bounce desperately to make him go deeper.

"It's too good," he spluttered, tears staining the loose collar of his shirt. "F-Fuck. Ah-"

Your hips rolled in sync with one another, rhythm tight to chase the sensation the both of you were drowning hard under. His cock swelled deeper and deeper, a warning that he might finish with every single bounce of your body.

And as the sensation went on and his inability to keep himself still, you knew all too well you were both close to finishing. You sped up your paste so you could finish before him, painful knot trembling your thighs finally breaking as hot strings coated all around him a sudden wave of you cries.

The feeling sent him over the edge and his rolls had gone sloppy, mouth a whimpering mess, and you rolled yourself off of him before he could finish in you. You ended it off by kissing him on the jolting tip, a new, fresh wave of come splashing all over your lips once again.

You licked him clean until he grew soft under you.

Breath still ragged, face still flowing like a vulnerable river of tears - Taehyung stared at you with half hooded eyes as you kissed him through everything.

What was going to happen after this?

You didn't know. You weren't one to do one night stands, and he definitely wasn't one to be doing that either.

But, you watched as his shoulders served as a shell for his flushed face again, hiding under his shyness like he hadn't just gave the last free part of him to you.

"I... uh-" he started but couldn't bring himself to talk.

"Are you free tomorrow?" You asked, gently zipping his jeans back over his ruined length.

He swallowed a hard click, then nodded.

"Good. Five at the restaurant just next door...I'll see you then?"

"Okay," he smiled, an adorable boxy scrunch of his cheeks that had you swooning all over again. "See you then."

[singularity4joon]

BURNOUT || JJK

racer! jk x fem! reader

★ previous parts ↣ 1, 2, 3, 4

wc: 2900 (sorry 💔 )

His devotion to you isn't because of your pretty curves or how the neon lights shine beautiful casts off your skin, it's an obsession that keeps him breathing. An obsession that makes his hallucinations freeze. An obsession where his mind is so spiritually connected to your soul that he starts to feel everything in you. His body moves to yours in a way that helps your benefit. You're petrified of him, just like anyone else. But when will that terror turn into curiosity? When will that curiosity turn into love?

warnings: motion sickness, reader pukes, harsh languages, harsh jk, violence, near death, mature themes

a/n: hey, i’m sorry this is such a quick chapter. i intended to write more but if you hadn’t seen my post, you wouldn’t know that i’ve been HEAVILY sick. i wanted to get something out for you, so enjoy this quick, chaotic chapter :) … so, he doesn't know how to handle things well. he doesn't know what breaks people or glues them together. he just knows what's right and wrong for him. expect major yearning in the next couple chapters, though 😘

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ ─ "I can't believe you!"

A sudden grip on your arm stuttered your words into a choke. You glanced over your shoulder to see Namjoon, smiling weakly at you.

"It's okay," two dimples came your way and you almost gave in right there. "Nothing bad will happen. You can trust him on this, alright?"

"She doesn't need any pep talk, she's fine," Jeongguk flicked his wrist which had motioned Namjoon quickly to push you into the car. You struggled against him, heel digging deep to the ground but his strength had gotten the best of you. "It's not bad at all."

"This better be fun or I'll slap you," you pointed a finger at Jeongguk, who was also entering the drivers space. You ignored Namjoon behind you, who gave a small shoulder squeeze before reaching out to grab ahold of a red, heavy jacket.

He slid it into the window, watching silently as you eyed it down warily. "Put it on, it's fire resistance if that helps you."

With a defeated sigh, you slipped the heavy leather over your shoulders, the thickness of the fabric bunching around you. It smelt like burnt rubber and at the moment, you swore you were gonna puke.

"Check the harness," Jeongguk insisted as he reached across the console and to you.

"Don't you dare, Stalker." you snapped, swatting his hand away before he could get close to touching you, though your fingers fumbled clumsily with the thick straps until you finally managed to click the metal buckle into place across your chest.

By the time you were done, Namjoon had rounded around the car to peak through Jeongguks rolled down window. He tapped the edge, gathering the youngest attention.

"What." Jeongguk sneaked a glance at him.

"That girl never does this shit, and you know that. Take it easy on the curves." Namjoon warned him, looking at you for a split of a second before back to Jeongguk. "Newcomers get very motion sick or anxious, we were all like that at one place."

"Mhm," Jeongguk hummed, keeping his eyes away from Namjoon as he turned the engine into ignition, until it was vibrating under you, the sound rocketing straight through your chest and rattling the teeth in your skull.

Namjoons word had tightened your anxiousness in a burden you've never felt before. Not only that, but the oversized racing jacket Namjoon had forced you into felt like a weighted blanket, trapping the heat and making your skin prickle with nervous sweat.

Without a backward glance at the mechanic, Jeongguk slammed his foot down on the clutch, shifted into first with a brutal crunch, and shot out of the garage bay doors like a bullet fired from a gun. You instantly reached out to grab ahold of the side car door, feeling your body instantly press back into the seat.

The arena outside passed by in a blur, an insanely fast motion that you were lucky enough to never seen before, until now. It was sickening, dizzying so much it had your stomach churning.

"What the hell is your problem!?" You screamed at him, your voice barely even tearing past the loud shriek of the engine beneath you. Your nails dug into the leather handle, palms sweating so heavily your hands slightly slipped against it.

Jeongguk didn't answer. He didn't even look your way.

You looked back at him, the irritation in you growing with fear as you noticed how calm he looked. Jaw slightly clenched, he had one arm gripped on the shifter and the other wrestling the steering wheel. He didn't look dead like how others and you claimed he usually is to be - more like he finally was alive. Breathing normally.

A sharp corner appeared on the track and you barely had enough time to brace yourself before he sharply turned to it, drifting so hard the car almost grind against the tracks outer walls. You felt the insides in your body move along with the car, the gravity's pressure pushing you right against the car door.

"Can you fucking slow down?" And when he didn't answer you, you clutched the door even harder, your bones now trembling under the force of what felt like hands pulling on them until the marrows snapped. "Get me out of this car, Psycho!"

He did respond this time. Not in words, although that's what you were hoping for, even if it were to be a shout or growl. But instead, what came was a tick of his muscle in his temple and the acceleration of the gas pedal. He had it pushed completely on the ground, and by that point your body was in the middle of a sandwich made of car seat and air that reeked of burning rubber.

"I told you to not call me psycho," another sharp curve, another screech from your lungs. It was a turn of violence that felt less like driving and more like an act of war.

Your entire body slammed sideways, the heavy passenger door acting as the only thing keeping you from spiraling right then and there. The force squeezed every ounce of air from your lungs until your vision blurred at the edges.

"I seriously truly hate your ugly, fucking guts," you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut. "I'm going no to throw up, I swear to God! Jeongguk If you don't slow down right now—"

The car jerked violently as he yanked the wheel again, correcting into a straightaway only to immediately slam back down on the accelerator.

"You think this is a game with that 'Psycho' word?" he snarled, his voice cutting through the scream of the engine like a blade. "You think you can just sit there and spit that word at me like I'm some fucking monster you found bleeding in an alley?"

Another sharp curve materialized out of the dark, and instead of braking, Jeongguk threw the car into a hard, aggressive drift. Sparks showered into the air as the outer edge of the car grazed the barrier, a metallic scrape that shrieked against your eardrums.

You let out a bloodcurdling scream, your hands flying up to grip the roll cage above your head as your body was violently thrown back against the seat.

"And are you upset I'm telling the truth!?" You heaved with a sob, terror breaking past your anger. "Get me out of this vehicle you psychotic piece of shit!"

"You think I'm crazy?" he snapped, his chest heaving under his jacket as he threw the car into yet another vicious, blinding turn.

"I do!"

The moment the words left your mouth, the car jerked into a violent, sudden stop. Your body shot forward, leather seatbelt choking into the skin on your neck as you braced the fly to the dashboard.

Only for his hand to shoot out across the console, his large hand catching you squarely by the chest and shoving you hard back against the seat just as your face was an inch away from shattering against the glass.

The force of the stop threw up a sudden cloud of smoke and dust, the thickness crawling around the windows and the smell completely filling the cabin.

You were seconds away from dying and he had saved you... while being the lead cause to that death.

The thought terrified you in the silence that rung through the car. Only the tick of the cooling engine and small tears escaping your throat was enough to tell you that this was all real. This just happened and it's not a dream.

Your hands shook uncontrollably, your fingers clawing at the heavy safety belt cutting deep into your collarbone as your chest heaved in violent waves.

You were alive.

The windshield was intact.

But your entire nervous system was completely, utterly shattered.

Jeongguk didn't move his hand.

His large palm remained pressed flat against the thick fabric over your chest with his long fingers splayed wide. You could feel his frantic heartbeat through his wrist - or perhaps, it was your own.

Slowly, you forced your tear-blurred eyes upward.

Jeongguk was staring straight at you.

"You think I'm crazy," he whispered.

"Let me out," you sobbed, your voice breaking entirely as the last bit of your fight turned into pure terror.

You couldve died.

You pushed weakly against his massive shoulder, desperate for air, desperate for space, desperate to just be anywhere else on earth. "Please, Jeongguk. Let me out of the car."

He didn't say anything, just watched you silently with those eyes you now hate so much as you managed to finally drag a full, shaky breath down your lungs.

Without a single word of warning, his hand dropped from your chest, his foot slammed back down onto the gas pedal, and the car roared back into life.

Your body sunk back into the seat and you shot your arms out, gripping just as hard as your chest was heaving. You didn't scream this time... you couldn't.

Your throat felt completely raw.

You stared blindly through the windshield, tears hot and stinging against your eyelashes and every passing second felt like an eternity.

The car only seemed to go faster and faster. The race track seemed endless.

But just as quickly as it was to begin, the roaring of the engine began to die down. You watched through your blurry vision as the familiar silhouette of Namjoon's garage came into view. You were never so grateful to see a place stained with grease.

Jeongguk didn't even bother to pull in gently. He slammed on the brakes, not as hard as the other time, but enough to give your body a tiny jolt forward.

The engine fell silent.

"Holy shit!" Then came Namjoon's cheers, running out of the open doors with a cellular object dancing in his waving hands. "You beat your record, Ghost! The hell!"

Ignoring Namjoon's cheers, you shoved the passenger door open with your shoulder, the heavy metal swinging wide with a clatter. And the second the opening was wide enough, you scrambled out of the car.

Your legs were trembling so violently they barely supported your weight, your heels skidding against the gravel as you stumbled away from the vehicle.

You didn't make it more than a few yards past the last edge of the garage before your stomach violently churned.

You collapsed forward with your hands braced against your knees, and before you could process the bitter bile rising up your throat - you had thrown up. Puking so violently your throat ached.

The suffocating realization that you had come so close to pain finally tore through your defenses, leaving you heaving in the cold night air.

Once you were done, everything was silent. You choked, lifting a trembling hand to wipe at the corner of your mouth, the motion sickness still wobbling at the edges of your vision. You closed your eyes in great hopes to have it all fade away.

You were just crouching there, waiting for the nausea to pass, for the world to stop spinning, and wishing with every broken piece of your heart that you had never ever collided with Jeon Jeongguk.

Once everything settled back down, you were able to distinct the sound of Jeongguk and Namjoon having a small conversation in the garage. Sounds of tools working echoed in the air, along with a sterness soaking in Namjoons voice.

You couldn't pick up all that came from their mouths, but a few lingers of "Hallucinations" and "Shouldn't have done that" rung in your reddened ears.

With a growl, you tore the heavy racer coat off your shoulders, letting the cool air treat the sweat beading all throughout your frame.

Genuinely, how could things lead this way?

You were at work. Tired, yes, but your day was good. You were wishing to relax at home, to take a nice shower, to feel good - only for all of that to be ruined by a man who's a pained stain in your life.

You scrambled back to your feet, using your clammy palms to swipe off the graven that had stuck to your knees, they burned from the impact but you didn't care. You had only one idea in mind and before running back home, you knew you needed to get it done.

Tucking the jacket under your arms, you raced back toward the entrance of the garage where their conversation had grew more distinctable for you. The warm lights of his garage sent a sudden, throbbing pain to your temple and the sight of Jeongguk didn't want to make you scream so badly ever before.

"How the fuck does a person make hallucinations freeze, Ghost? Tell me that. How the fuck is that possible." Namjoon cursed, running his hand through his short, buzzed hair as if he were going through a crisis. His eyes flickered to you, and before he could speak up, Jeongguk had cut him off.

"I don't know. It just happens. Im scared of that fact too."

You watched as Namjoon's mouth parted in slight shock as you marched straight toward the pair, yanking the heavy racing jacket from under your arm and shoved it harshly against his chest.

"Take your damn jacket," you hissed, voice slightly shaking.

Namjoon instinctively caught the fabric, stumbling back half a step against his workbench as his brow raised at the fury radiating off you.

"Jeongguk, what the fuck did you do?" You heard Namjoon whisper as you whipped around to face Jeongguk, looking him dead in the lifeless eyes.

You didn't hesitate, no second for him to breathe, speak, or pull you back - you brought your hand back and slapped it hard across his cheek.

Jeongguk's head snapped sideways from the force of the blow. He didn't flinch away or raise a hand to stop you. He just stood there, completely emotionless as his face turned back to look at you.

You watched as his jaw clenched, a bright angry mark of hand blooming fiercely across his sharp cheekbone, a complete contrast to his pale skin.

You were centimeters away from being chest to chest with him, your hands curled tightly at your sides, and your entire body trembled so violently you could barely stand.

You wanted to bury yourself. To smack him until he cried as hard as you were. Just anything to take the feeling blooming inside of you away.

"You are a sick, selfish, psychotic piece of shit!" You screamed, the raw sound tearing from your thorny throat. "You think you can just terrorize my workplace, drag me out here, and use me as your own emotional crutch so you could do whatever the hell you were aiming for?! You could've killed us! You didn't care if I died, if I threw up, and certainly that I was crying! Just because you 'broke your record'"?

Jeongguk's dark, consuming eyes bored into yours. The red mark on his face throbbed, yet his expression was completely blank. A dangerous, unnerving void that made the hair on the back of your arms stand up.

"I would never kill you-"

"Right, asshole, because you just so happened to hold me before I went flying out of the windshield." Hot tears spilled down your lashes and tracked down your flushed cheeks. "If you ever, ever, come near me again, I won't just slap you. I'd love to make you a real, cozy home in the closest asylum."

You watched as his face drained through twenty, immediate different emotions, beofre settling on pure rage. A thick vein at his temple began to throb, matching the erratic pulse of a predator backed into a corner.

"An asylum?" Jeongguk repeated, his growl vibrating straight through the floorboards. "You think this is a joke? You think I'm out of my fucking mind-"

Before the rest of the sentence could tear past his teeth, he surged forward with rage, crossing the distance between you in a heartbeat. His massive hand shot out, fingers clenching into the fabric of your shirt with enough force to send you doubling over, pulling you until you slammed against his frame.

"You don't know a damn thing about what you do to me. You don't know what goes through my mind."

Namjoon reached out to hold Jeongguk back by his chest, setting you free until you stumbled back from the force.

"Don't you fucking dare say anything, she already thinks you're insane enough," Namjoon barked. "Stand down, Ghost. Look at me. Stand down."

"I hope you can find the day where you use your mind correctly," trembling from head to toe, you turned on your heel. "And start to think before you ruin everything you touch."

You bolted out of the garage, leaving the raging roar of their voices behind you in the dark.

tags : ̗̀➛ @champagneeeemamiiii @jksbluved @seokvrn @bjoriis @cliosunshine @bunniesprinkles @somewhereinmymemorysblog @kapopm @dandelionlattesblog please ask in comments or dm to be tagged 🤍

[singularity4joon]

to everyone following BURNOUT, I apologize because of the very slow update for the next chapter. I am currently very sick, but just now starting to heal :) Once I get my energy up, I can start working on writing it. Thank u.. xoxo

[singularity4joon]

here to deliver the sweetest kisses for my favorite girl ! <3

and i’m here receiving kisses from my favorite author 🥹 love u sweetie, i hope everything’s going well!

[gukcnt]

ANNOUNCEMENT

hello my sweet loves! i have an important announcement that i'd love to share with y'all, after thinking about it for quite a while, i've finally decided to open a patreon

nyla

Patreon is empowering a new generation of creators. Support and engage with artists and creators as they live out their passions!

WHAT IS PATREON?

for those of you who aren't familiar with patreon, it's a membership platform where creators can share extra content with people who choose to support their work through a monthly subscription, think of it as a little bonus space outside of tumblr where i can share writing progress, spoilers, sneak peeks and other exclusive content with those who'd like to support what i do

NOTHING WILL BE CHANGED HERE ON TUMBLR

before anything else, i wanna reassure everyone that nothing is changing here on tumblr, all of my main fics, series and oneshots will continue to be posted here completely free just as they always have been, patreon is an optional way for anyone who wants to support my writing while receiving few extra content in return

WHAT CAN YOU EXPECT IF YOU DECIDE TO BECOME A PAID MEMBER ON PATREON?

there are two tiers for you to choose from :

➥ TIER 1 — behind the scenes [ LITTLE HAVEN ] ($4)

[ this tier is perfect if you'd like a closer look into my writing process and everything happening behind the scenes. ]

members in this tier will receive :

extra spoilers and longer teasers from my current ongoing fic as i'm writing

behind the scenes writing updates and little glimpses into what i'm currently working on

occasional updates and teasers for upcoming fics

polls where you'll be able to help me choose my future fics and other fun decisions!

➥ TIER 2 — early access + exclusive content [ NYLA'S SPECIAL CORNER <3 ] ($9)

[ this tier includes everything from tier 1 along with even more exclusive content for those who'd like access to absolutely everything. ]

members in this tier will receive :

early access to excerpts from my ongoing fic

full oneshots and new chapters one week before they're posted publicly for free on tumblr

occasional exclusive bonus content related to my fics including extra scenes or drabbles and other special surprises

priority consideration for suggestions and requests, while i cant guarantee every idea will be written, requests from this tier will receive priority and we can discuss ideas together!

NEW CONTENT AVAILABLE ON PATREON AS OF NOW !

if you choose to become a member or wanna make a one time purchase, you can unlock and enjoy the following content :

➥ quietly yours — jungkook oneshot (early access) : sexting part 1 from the actual oneshot is now available.

QUIETLY YOURS (JUNGKOOK ONESHOT) SEXTING PT. 1 | nyla

QUIETLY YOURS (JUNGKOOK ONESHOT) SEXTING PT. 1 by nyla on Patreon. Join nyla's community for exclusive content and updates.

➥ bound by vows — jungkook series : chapter 15 teaser is now available.

BOUND BY VOWS (CHAPTER 15) TEASER | nyla

“you're beautiful like this...” jungkook whispers almost breathlessly, watching you tip your face up again, letting more water slide across

every new content i post on patreon will also be announced here on tumblr so you'll always know when something new is available and won't miss out! i'm still new to patreon and learning as i go but if any of y'all run into issues while becoming a member or purchasing something, please dm me and i'll do my best to help you out

FEW MORE NOTES

lastly i just wanna say that subscribing is completely optional so please only join if you're able to and want to, every membership and purchase helps support the efforts and hours that go into writing every fic i share, if you're unable to subscribe don't feel pressured in any way, i appreciate every reblog, comment, asks and messages, they mean the world to me and i'm incredibly thankful for each and every one of you, opening a patreon is something i've been considering for a while... not because i wanna lock my works away but because i wanted to create another space where i can share a little more with those who choose to support me, whether you choose to join my patreon or continue reading on tumblr, wattpad or ao3, i'm really appreciative and grateful for you being here and for supporting my writing, i really hope you'll enjoy this new space and i can't wait to share even more with you guys <3

i love y'all so much *kisses and hugs*

➥ [ 💌 ] : shoutout to @taejinkook96 for becoming the very first member of nyla's special corner, i love you endlessly! and to @luvismenu thank you so much for helping me create this space luvi my angel !

[singularity4joon]

NEURON | JHS

|dancer! jhs x dancer! reader|

summary: He’s the best dance in Neuron, and you just happen to end up in a tie with him. That’s it. Nothing else - no more dance offs or congratulations - just lingering eyes that make you thrive for the whole two months you’ve only been there. But one thing leads to another and you realize after he has his lips on your neck at you’ve craved him nightly.

warnings: a quick/short one for u's which is a request from my bsf and a gift for 150 followers on tumblr (yayyy), fast burn, barely any foreplay, breast play, sex with protection, mutual pinning, teeny amount of jealousy, soft dom hoseok, harsh language, possible grammar/typo mistakes ... enjoy!

wc: 4880

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ ─ Flashes of baggy clothing waved through the midnight air, the cling of human body that synchronized with the upbeat hiphop music shaking the grounds below.

You moved with your own precision. Eyes closed and your arms wrapped around the lines of your stomach where your sports bra failed to reach - it was as if you were in your own world and didn't have racks of eyes on you.

You found Neuron not too long ago.

Moving to a city that was way to far for your liking - where the usual stretch of dirt and trees faded into long lines of industrial buildings or how hoards of sheep turned into hoards of people - you wondered just what could make you enjoy a place like this.

And one day, hands clutching a soda you bought from a convenience store that already knew your name although being a new visitor of two weeks, your ears perked up at the sound of cheers and vibrations so harsh it froze you in your place with pure curiosity.

You stepped towards the invisible pull which in that case had been the speakers and stopped once your toes reached the edge of a staircase. Opening up was a full open space completely scattered with a litter of frames moving in a beauty of harmonization.

But that crowd was nothing compared to the one next to it.

Formed in an almost perfect circle, a large group of people sung and cheered while orbiting a total of two dancers in the middle, something your brain immediately recognized as a dance off.

You wedged into the back of the crowd, your soda forgotten in your hand as you watched the two figures at the center. It wasn't just dancing, more like a war of movement, each beat of the song serving as a blade in their sparring.

One of them - the one with the dark, windswept hair and an impossibly sharp jawline that contrasted to his smooth movement - moved with a fluidity that crawled on the supernatural. It was Hoseok, although you hadn't known yet at the time.

The crowd erupted into a roar as he transitioned into a floor-level sequence, his limbs spinning in a blur of controled aggression. His opponent scrambled to keep but, but the difference was clear.

Hoseok was playing a different game entirely.

"Damn, Jay," the opponent heaved as he ran his fingers through his drenched, blue hair. He was sweating precisely and although looked like he was seconds away from the brink of pure exhaustion- he offered Hoseok a tight smile. "You got me again."

Hoseok stood up abruptly, a thin sheet of sweat glistening on his skin as he shook the other guy's hand. His lips were slightly parted, cheeks flushed as if he were too tired. But he stayed put. Continued the long streak he held of staying like a man who held power with a body that defied physics.

Your lips curled up into a smile.

You've always had a thing for dancing after all.

Setting your soda down onto the tile, you ushered past the waves of people with half-assed apologizes while your body seemed to beam at the idea of his eyes landing on you. Of him, that absolute menace of a dancer, to lock eyes with you as you moved right along with him.

Hoseok was still catching his breath, his chest rising and falling in sharp movements, when you stepped onto the center tile.

He didn't more or blink, just watched you with a slow tilt in his head. A dangerous curiosity replaced the competitive edge that had been there only seconds before.

"And you are?" His voice was calm as if his lungs weren't grasping for what air he had left. He approached you, frame towering over yours with eyes that only made your jaw clench. "I'm afraid I haven't seen these pretty legs before."

"I'm someone who's bored," you replied, stripping your shirt over your shoulders until the streetlamps ahead had soaked raw into your shoulders. "And I'm guessing you are Jay?"

His eyes flickered to your sports bra, your lips, then finally back to your eyes. "That's what they call me here. But you... you can call me Hoseok."

"Hoseok," you repeated with a slow muse. "Wanna dance off?"

"I see why not," a slow grin adjoined his lips.

You flashed a smile back at him as you paced towards the middle of the circle and he followed, chin up until he was only a few steps right ahead of you.

The song started.

You stood still for a second, soaking down the beats per minute and if a slow or intense choreo would fit better. And he was too, gently bopping his head to the rythym with the skill you knew all too well he had.

You moved your body once you got a simple hint of the vibration. You left your movements fluid and sharp, mirroring the energy he gave which you absorbed from the shadows.

Hoseok's eyes narrowed just as a low and appreciative hum vibrated in his throat. Without breaking eye contact, he surged back into motion.

He moved closer, entering your space, his shadow falling over you as he circled around you. Everytime you extended an arm, he caught the movement, spiraling into a rotation that kept both of you locked in a tight loop.

He was so close to you, watching. You could smell his scent - dark and musky, mixed with the sweaty exhaustion that gave his cheeks a warm coral. You spun, your hair whipping across your face. And as you looked up, you found him inches away with movements that were ever so hypnotizing.

The crowd cheered with every motion and the intensity of the eye contact the two of you didn't dare to break.

It dragged on and on, both of you getting exhausted. He was a bit drowsy with the motion, being the fact that he had been out here for hours and you only four minutes at that moment.

You could feel the tremor in your own thighs, the fire in your lungs, but neither of you stopped. It was as if the music was a siren's song, completely pulling into the orbit and who would be the first to corrupt it.

"Enough, enough," someone had called from the crowd, waving his hands around as someone else had paused the music. "It's a tie. You both loose."

"I like the mentality that we both win better," Hoseok chuckled as he dropped his sweaty palms to his thighs, harsh exhales shaking his shoulders. "Right... hey, I still haven't gotten your name yet."

You, who was also as totaled as him - turned your head to the side to meet his eyes. You didn't miss the way his irises trailed down the curve of your neckbone to swell of breasts in a coax of glistening sweat.

"Y/n," you breathed, feeling your lungs burn with ever part of your lips. Before he could even gather up a response, you stepped past him to grab your soda. You unscrewed the lid, sweat from your palms mixing with the condensation on the outer layer, and brought the bottle to your lips.

"Well, shit... wanna join Neuron?" The man who ordered for you and Hoseok to stop just moments ago stepped into your space. "You're pretty good."

You shrugged. "Sure. This seems fun."

"Perfect." He smirked.

But now, back to the present, you danced along to an addictive song playing on the speakers, the instrumental enough to have your mind wondering and skin itching. You had your eyes locked on a metal pole where you spotted the blur of your reflection where you had woven almost perfectly to your taste.

But you weren't looking at yourself.

You could hear his laughter from miles away without even trying.

Damn Hoseok, you've been in the crew for about a couple months now and still the only time you had the chance to go against him was that important, first day. You guys still held eye contact. You felt his gaze lingering sometimes too... and if the day was going special enough for you- he'd say something through his flushed, glistening lips.

You barely knew him, and yet you felt anger bubbling in your cheeks as you listened to him laugh around easily with another girl from Neuron, Kira. They sat on the curb of the stairs, Hoseok's leg outstretched way past hers as they shared sweet rainbow candy from the same tiny plastic bag.

Kira laughed again, the effortless sound cutting through the street like a knife that currently sat stabbed in your stomach, twisting that knot even tighter. You adjusted the hem of your top, tearing your eyes away from the metal pole's twisted reflection just in time to see him lean over to toss a stray piece of candy into his mouth with that smiley, infuriating movements he possessed.

You turned sharply on your heels once the song ended, making your way toward a darker part of the open space. You told yourself that the two months here was evident for your rush of adrenaline, movements, release of a rhythm - not for the way Hoseok had such a thing to him that drew you hypnotized.

Yet, every time he spared a glance toward you, your pulse had stuttered completely contrasted to your logic.

A shadow walked toward you, completely cutting through the flickering streetlights from above. You quickly recognized that scent- the sweet yet musky cologne. You sighed and turned to look back at him.

His lips lifted just a fraction, just barely enough to beat how he looked around Kira. It twisted something into your heart. You glanced back to where he just sat, only to notice Kira had moved to dance with another group of dancers.

"You've been glaring at that pole other there for five minutes," his low, gravelly voice murmured right beside your ear, sending a sudden shiver straight down your spine.

"I wasn't glaring," you lied, your voice tight as you crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to let him see how easily he could rattle your composure. "Some of us actually came here to dance, Hoseok. Not to sit on the stairs and socialize, eating candy."

"Hm," he hummed along with a slow smirk overshadowing his smile. "Can't a guy enjoy his candy?"

"Nope," you said sarcastically as you reached down to grab ahold of your bag. From the corner of your eye, you noticed he watched every movement come from you with eyes you struggled to decipher. "It's really late, I'm out. Goodnight."

You stepped away before anymore else could happen. Your shoes scrunched down gravel as you traced your earlier steps back to your car. You were exhausted and wanted to linger under your warm showerhead until you were too tired to stand.

Once you reached your car, you fumbled into your purse to pull out the keys. Your footsteps stilled, only to have your ears perk at the noise of a lingering stop of footsteps.

"You're not very smart."

You quickly glanced back at him using your whole body, drawing your eyebrows together as you gathered a scoff at him following you as if it were a fun hobby. "What are you doing?"

"Following you," he said.

"Are you out of your mind? Leave." You breathed out, watching as his lips trailed down the column of your neck .

Before you could mutter again, he collided into your space with only two strides, large hands reaching out to grasp around your arms. You gasped, the sound swallowed by the moonlight as his face inched down dangerously close to your neck.

"Why are you acting like I hadn't seen your eyes, hm?" You felt his breath fan against your damp skin, heightening the hit wave of tangles that coursed through your veins.

His touch was electric. Something that you didn't know you craved for until now, completely drowning in the way calloused palms had felt against yourself. You bit down a noise - moan? Scoff? Groan? Whatever it was, you knew it was best to keep down.

"I think you're thinking too hard." You deadpanned although everything in you was being torn at by a dangerous thread- the feel of him, no doubt.

"Oh yeah?" He smirked, his lips just barely dragging against your skin as he raised his head to look at you in the eyes.

Your heels stumbled back, hitting against the cool metal of your car without any thought. He quickly swallowed your orbit again, tightening the grip of his hands.

"What's with this sudden attraction...?" You panted, hands reaching out to grip onto the damp of his dark, soft waves.

"Sudden?" He let out a small laugh, his breath hitting the curve of your neck so suddenly that you gasped. "It's not sudden, baby. Just watching you eye Kira like you wanted her dead gave me all the confirmation I needed."

His other hand removed the grip from your arms only to go up, long fingers tangling painfully yet perfectly into your hair, forcing your head back to expose the line of your throat. He lips brushed your jawline, a soft friction raced down your whole spine.

"You've been watching me for two months," he whispered, his teeth grazing as he moved desperately higher up your face. "And I've been going out of my mind trying to ignore the way you look at me."

"Hoseok-"

He cut you off by pressing his lips against yours, immediate groans ripping from his frame as he pushed you harder against the car. A noise came from you, coaxing your lips as your fingers gripped tighter in his hair.

"So good," he pulled away only to pant, then returned back to your lips. His tongue dragged your bottom lip, teeth dangerously close to yours as his buds had savored the taste of your flesh.

You suddenly felt it. His weight, dangerously hard pressing into your lower stomach. Your vision splotched white although your eyes were closed, your hips absentmindedly rolling up to grind against his thigh.

He pulled back, lip glistening under the moonlight as those desperate eyes met yours. "Get in the car," he ordered and you were quick to comply, scrambling into the backseat with a mind so fuzzed you didn't even want to think about any consequences.

He followed after you, slamming the door shut, only to crawl his body right over you. His legs trapped you together, heat burning into your revealed skin as he deliberately pressed his length down onto the heave of your stomach.

You ground against him instinctively, chasing the pleasure and feeling the fabric between the two of you doing little to hide of rock-hard he was getting by the millisecond. Both both moaning into eachother, minds so fuzzy with want and need and it felt so perfect and right. His hands trailed down your body, feeling every single inch of your sweated skin.

You pushed his chest away from you for a tad bit to allow your fingers to work around his tight shirt to throw off his head. He let you do so, locking his bulge harder against your clothed cunt, pleasure racking through you, while the pale streetlights casted perfectly onto his sharp body.

"Fuck, Hoseok-" You whispered to him, which caused his whole body to shudder along with the chase of a hard grind right up against you. You immediately were silenced in words, replaced with a loud pitch moan.

"You're so fucking beautiful it hurts," He growled into the air, watching your face scrunch as he held down on your hips, forcing you tighter against his slow grinds. "... It shatters me."

And although clothes disappointingly were present, it did nothing to swallow down the intense throb in the slickness pooling in between your blazing thighs.

It didnt didn't take long before he dipped down to trail hot kisses down your cheek, sucking gently at the sensitive spot behind your ear earning a gasp ripping from your prickly throat that mixed well with a breathless cry. He hummed in satisfaction when your legs gripped around him tighter, while the insides of your thighs were on fire.

"Hmph, s-so good." Your hands couldn't stay on a single place of his body, from his hair and to gripping his shoulders- You just couldn't get enough of it. You realized but then, you could never ever get enough of him in general.

His fingers gently twirled around your hair, tucking away behind your neck to tilt his plump lips closer into the hard throb of your neck. His free hand cracked under your shirt, resting under the swell of the breast as he nipped harshly into your collarbone.

"You're so needy already," his words sent vibrations into your whole electrified frame. Your body jolted underneath him in a shudder of desire- proving his point. "Want me to fuck you perfect?"

You were growing needier by the second, mind swaying while he grind harder against your stomach. You rocked your trembly hips upward to meet his thrusts, the timing so perfect and amazing you were so sure the thin of your panties were completely pooled in your own needy slick.

His fingers curled into the hem of your shirt, pleading dark eyes clawing to you, asking permission- gently- although the touch of his lips sucking and biting on your skin earlier was anywhere but close to gentle.

You nodded quickly, never taking your eyes off from the lean lines on his stomach as he pulled your bra over your head, sending a small kiss between your breasts, the cool air hitting your goosebumbed, revealed skin once he threw your bra behind him. His mouth fell agape, his eyes darkening into something predatory when his gaze found the sight of your bare tits, nipples hardened from the arousal thundering in every part of your veins.

The sight caused a low and guttural growl to crawl from his throat, diving his face into your right breast while his hand fondled with the other. He captured a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard with his tongue swirling over the sensitive bud with wet and sloppy strokes. The sensation was electric, racks of pleasure shooting between your legs as you shot your hands out to grip his hair again.

"J-Jay... Hoseok," You tugged gently on a few strands of his hair while he slowed down, feeling yourself grow more inpatient by the second his hands touched you with teeth grazing the edge enough just to sting.

Whining, arching, and clawing right up into his skin certainly was a sign of that, so painfully obvious.

"Hm?" he growled breathlessly against your swell, dragging his other hand slowly down your churning stomach to hand go down under your skirt, pressing his palm up to your drenched laced panties, the wet and throbbing touch it created caused him to growl- a hot, vulgar sound that shoots right through your thighs and to your head. "Fuck-"

And in one fast and single motion, he rolled your skirt down your knees and hooked your drenched panties away. You were now lying there, fully naked on display while his eyes struggled to stay focused on one place.

He removed his mouth from your tits with a plop, his lips red and swollen as his hooded eyes gazed down on your body strongly. He kissed you again, tongue thrusting into your mouth like he was fucking it. You buckled your hips harder against his erection, both mewling.

He leaned down, about ready to dive his head between your legs- but you stopped him, gripping his hair with fingers that trembled so much from your arousal you were almost feeling vulnerable. No, you were vulnerable.

"Stop, Hoseok," You whimpered. "I just want you to take those stupid pants off and fuck me hard and dumb. Please, I really really need to feel you so bad."

He watched, eyes glistening in amusement as you scrambled up to your knees. Fingers trembling while you worked with his belt, he chuckled- the sound so deep and mewl, only just having your stomach clench and eyelashes flutter up to him in need.

"Hoseok, stop laying back and do something or else i'll be the one to fuck you instead." You spat as your hand came down to cup his hard cock under his sweats. It twitched right under your touch, hot, thick, and completely amused.

And with that in a final motion, he pushed you back away from him so he could shove his clothes down his legs with a growl. You watched as his large cock spring free, hard and throbbing while he hissed. He reached out and unwrapped a foil condom, gliding it over his stride.

He sores your legs open wider with his thigh, his eyes dark with want and need while his fingers traced up your inner thighs where you were aching for him the most.

You barely had any time to register anything until he slowly but smoothly slid inside of you. The stretch big, every vein and inch of his cock sliding through your slick walls, the feeling so intense that you clenched around him, letting out a pleasured scream, both from pain and the utter heaven the jolt brought you. He slid back out of you, feeling the print slide out against your glow.

"Is that what you wanted to feel so bad, huh?" He spat while he fondled his cock into his hand. You shook, watching with heavy breathes as he lined himself up to your hole- gentler this time with a warning.

He slid himself up and down your puffy cunt, leaving you whimpering and reaching out to dig your fingernails into his fair skin. The sensation was overwhelming-a deep, pounding fullness that made you cry out "Y-Yes."

He entered you again after those words left your tight throat, this time much more careful. His print swallowed you whole, stretching you into an oblivion while you cried and strangled. You were being impaled, legs widening as your moans and whines got louder and louder. He hooked your legs higher towards your ear, giving him deeper room where his tip bruised the part that made you relish and scream the most from arousal.

"Fuck, so tight and perfect. Your pussy really was made for me, huh?" His thumb came down to your swollen clit, pressing hard pressure with a small circle. Your hips buckled right into him, just the tip of his cock hitting something deep inside as you did so.

You shook your fuzzy head, biting down on your lip so hard you believed it was close to draw blood. You were feeling every inch of him- the way his cock throbbed inside of you, stretching you so wide it burned pleasurably. "So big, hurts."

It felt like you were being split open, the pressure so big and nothing like you ever felt before. You could feel everything so much clearer now, in your bones and heartbeat as he kissed your sweaty stomach.

"You wanted this, hm? Just breathe." He didn't move his hips forward, but his thumb continued to move slowly against your folds. "Tell me when you're ready."

You nodded, totally at a loss of words although your mouth was hung open.

He started slow, the first thrust having your eyes roll into the back of your head while you felt yourself clench perfectly around him. It punched every ounce of air out of your lungs, his thrusts hitting so deep your whole body shuddered around his cock.

Then the second came, harder this time but still slow. You dug your fingers harder into his flesh, red trails coaxing his sweaty skin, watching as he hissed under you with guilt in you but you were devoid of the ability to unlatch your nails from out of him.

He rolled his hips and everything felt just so real and perfect. It was as if you were dreaming but you knew a dream could never ever feel this good.

His hands moved to your hips, pressing your body harder into his cock as he began to up his pace. Skin slapping against skin, wetness filling the car louder than bombs. And before you knew it, pain was getting replaced by pleasure and joy.

"O-Oh, yes- s-shit," You choked out, breasts heaving as your nails scratched further down the tight muscles that lined his back. "Harder."

Upon hearing your words, he quickened. His pace having his hips slamming against yours in a brutal and bruising force. You felt the coil of pleasure tightening in your core, building toward an explosive release that you knew would shatter you both.

"God, look at you. You have no fucking clue how much I needed to feel your hot pussy clench around me, does so much wonders than my stupid hand." He rasped, upping his pace at a torturous, heavy speed.

"Oh, I n-needed this so bad, Hobi..." You said as his fingers came to cup your chin, forcing your head to tilt up to meet his eyes. You wish you could be locked as this forever, your only view being his face as he moved and fucked so deep into your cunt.

"Fuck, call me that again."

"Hobi," You strangled out as you closed your eyes because eye contact became too much to handle. He groaned, pressing your stomach hard as he upped his pace. He was now at his fastest, tilting your hips into the air while the tip of his cock bruised a specific hidden part deep inside of you.

Hs leaned down, head pressed up against yours while he continued his hard pacing, you cried and moaned while he hissed and groaned - the noises producing from his mouth intertwined with your needs was enough to have your stomach clench into a tight knot.

You could feel him, so harsh into your stomach, so claiming and his. You loved it all. A wet squelch of your juices coating him with every withdrawal and thrust, making his pounding easier and more intoxicating.

He leaned down to press small kisses all over your scrunching face as if he wasn't destroying so deep into you it hurt so bad in a good way. You were squirming, going crazy just for him to swallow it all up.

“You take me so good,” he whispered sweet nothings into your cheeks along with a bundle of curses, your legs falling down to curl around his waist as he continued to thrust so deeply. The sensation had your back arching into him, gasping so loudly it had your pussy clenching around him because that's what it was made for.

The feeling was beyond anything you've ever felt before and you knew at that instant that you could never get enough of it, you would yearn and whine to feel this every night again until your end.

"Hobi," he thrust harder. "- I'm going to come."

He licked down your throat, the action alone having the knot breaking. "Be a good girl and release, gorgeous."

Your orgasm crept up on you and grew ever so tight, so deep and harsh when you felt the sudden coil in your core snap. Your legs shook, making Hoseok hiss loudly as he fucked you through it.

"Fuck, your face," It felt as if stars were shooting in your vision, along with sick hearts. Hoseok chased his own orgasm, watching you with intense eyes as you grew slack against him. "Come all around this cock, hm? Make me know how much you love to be fucked."

Your vision blurred with stars, back arching off of the seats of his car while he gripped your ass. He pushed you harder into him, with enough force that his thrusts had became less controlled and sloppy.

He moaned out your name while finishing up his last uneven and broken pumps right into you. Your body felt so overwhelmed from how good this felt, and you liked it that way.

He backed away from you just then, and with a final thrust deep into his own hand- he finished hard into the condom. Just the sight, him jerking as he groaned and hissed your name was yet having you drenched in your thighs once again.

You were completely spent, eyes closed and chest heaving while he continued to kiss down your revealed body. He was practically on the same position, going feral.

The cars windows were completely fogged, moonlight barely reaching into the darkness. You felt sore, spent, but everything was something you knew you’d replay in your head over and over again every night.

Every restraint you both had carried for two months dissolved completely in the heat of the confined space, turning the quiet car into a breathless space of everything you hadn’t even realized you felt.

[singularity4joon]

hi .. im new here .. kinda nervous..

hey lovieee! your account looks gorgeous, i’m such a huge sucker for cool graphics 💕 i hope everything’s going well

[singularity4joon]

BURNOUT | JJK

racer! jk x fem! reader

★ previous parts ↣ 1 , 2 , 3

wc: 8795

His devotion to you isn't because of your pretty curves or how the neon lights shine beautiful casts off your skin, it's an obsession that keeps him breathing. An obsession that makes his hallucinations freeze. An obsession where his mind is so spiritually connected to your soul that he starts to feel everything in you. His body moves to yours in a way that helps your benefit. You're petrified of him, just like anyone else. But when will that terror turn into curiosity? When will that curiosity turn into love?

warnings: male self pleasuring, breaking and entering, stealing of possessions, heavy language, stalking, mentions of crashes,

A/n: hey lovies! i apologize this ends with a tiny cliff hanger (if you squint). on wattpad, i usually divide two chapter and in here it’s one together. problem is, im going through tiny writers block rn and you’ve already been waiting just long enough for this part to come out so the next will continue just as you expect it to be. another quick note, no one’s realized yet but there’s a difference between red and (red), anyone who knows what it means wins a cookie! and plspls, if you have wattpad can u go and vote (that star) and hopefully comment? 🥹 the community there isn’t as strong as it is here. interactions make my day. anyways…. enjoy!

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ ─ It was the twisted, unremovable thought of the fact that you wore (red) again.

It swallowed Jeongguk's mind like an illness, taking full churn of his insides until he felt completely at unease. But no matter how empty his guts felt, he never wanted that memory of you to leave his mind.

He wanted to drown in that fact. If reality was a sentence where he couldn't have you, then maybe, just maybe a drowning memory of velvet could be something he would live the rest of his whole life believing in.

He could still see the way the soft, crimson colored sweater had pooled around the curve in your shoulders. It was uninvited, a memory he didn't want to think about, but still, he loved it.

His hands lay empty. He wanted to clutch at his hair, maybe even his heart. Because being like this, completely stranded made his mind go absolute haywire. Red danced in his vision, distortion of gray threatening to choke him until he was calling your name.

Calling your name.

He liked the way the delivery had sat perfectly on his tongue. How it felt weighted.

How, if he were to speak your name around you, two lines would form between your crooked eyebrows. Your breath would hitch, most likely, the sound landing perfectly to his ears. Would he see your lips part? Would he cry?

No, he doesn't cry.

But he does.

He does until his throat is a light shade of red, raw and torn until his mouth tastes metallic. Until his eyes burn. The edge of his irses feeling scratchy and he'd have to hold his hands down via the weight of his trembly body so he wouldn't reach up to claw frantically at himself.

But, he shouldn't cry.

His mother said so. Men say so. The taut image he upholded onto himself because he didn't know how other to breathe properly around others say so.

The soft duvet curled around his thighs where he pressed himself against his bed, and yet he couldn't feel it.

He couldn't feel anything except for the sickening pull of the color red spinning in circles behind his eyelids.

It was a sickness, he believed. A fever that had no cure, blooming hot and bright in the center of his chest where his heart was supposed to beat.

His fingers curled around the edge of his duvet, pulling the fluffy weight higher over his shoulders. The recent scabs that torn at his knuckles threatened to split open once more. He wanted them to.

He wanted the sharp stinging bite of pain to break through the overwhelming fog that was wrapping around his brain.

What would it feel like to reach out to you? To test the reality of you? If he were to see if you would turn to dust or if you were warm and actual solid breathing mass of beauty?

A twitch to his right shoulder came, so sharp it left his lips parting in a small ache.

He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his palms flat against his thighs, holding his own weight down with a white knuckles force. He forced his fingers to uncurl, and to fight the clawing need to drag his nails down his arms until the skin broke.

He had to keep the illusion of control.

He wouldn't be likeable.

If they saw, people would churn their face and quickly glance away.

Never come back again.

He felt alone. Suffocated. He couldn't breathe properly and he was afraid seeing you or the (red) on you would calm him down. He needs to watch the rise and fall in your chest. He needs to see your face.

He needs you.

He should stop. He doesn't like that he's doing this - crawling out of his bed so he could stand at your window. It's sick. Inhumane. Something he's been labeled as ever since the accident came forward.

But his legs moved before his brain could. Those stubborn legs, the wobbly ache in them doing something so stupid the rest of his life could be ruined more with just one pair of eyes. Because, the rational broken piece in his mind screamed at him to turn the car off. To crawl back onto the mattress and let the static burn him to pieces.

This was everything the paddock whispers accused him of being - a volatile shadow haunting the edge's of a girls life who wanted nothing to do with his madness.

But, he was turning his key into his car, feeling the roar of the engine vibrate under him until the idea of seeing you again allowded his airways to open for just a heartbeat.

He doesn't remember how he memorized his way to your house. Every turn and passing of marked signs sat etched under his eyelids. Etched completely, with a knife, a twisted thing that would keep your route sat in him forever.

He was a disease taking a route.

A route he would walk in his sleep until his heart finally gave out in the dark and the dark velvety petals of Chocolate Cosmos bloomed over whatever was left of him.

Familiar neighborhoods blurred past the windshield just as the tightness in his throat began to ease just a bit. The suffocating panic eased, replaced by an aching void that only one specific image could fill.

He didn't just want to see you. He needed to.

He needed to see the irritation flash across your features, to hear your voice snap at him, to anchor himself to the breathing reality of your existence before he completely unraveled.

He parked by a lone curb a few houses down from yours. A curb that sat soaked in the shadows, the lean trees above letting his car go unnoticed just like the rest of him.

He sat still for a moment, his fingers tapping on his steering wheel without any thought.

Taking a hallow breath in, he stepped out of his vehicle and locked it behind him. His black shoes crunched over the gravel, each step ringing in his ears but his veins felt satisfied with the fact that he'll see you again. It was only two days and he felt as if he were gone feral.

He stepped onto your yard, frame still lingering under shadows as he let his eyes fall immediately over towards your bedroom window.

The window seemed dead.

It reflected the pale, washed out blue of the morning sky. It held no warmth through the panes or a shifting silhouette to suggest you were pacing, sleeping, doing any necessary things that altered his life motives.

Jeongguk stilled at the edge of a flowerpot, the satisfaction humming in his body quickly stalled, turning sluggish and cold.

He waited. Five breaths.

The house was silent.

You weren't there.

No no no no no.

His chest hardened into a painful knot as he stepped closer toward your window. He needed the sound of your voice through the pane, or a vision of you doing whatever.

Without you anchoring him down, the space around him began to dissolve, making the edges of reality blurring back into that terrifying distortion.

He breathed your name, his voice sounding broken even to his own ears.

His hand braced onto the ledge of your window.

He looked harder, eyes narrowing as if his heart hadn't physically pained him so hard his knees almost gave out. He peered through the sliver of open curtain, fingers tightening when everything in your room sat untouched.

He can't be alone.

His biceps flexed without any thought, muscles quick to contract together to pull the sill up slightly until a small wince sung in the damp, morning air.

He didn't care for anything. Not the risk. Not the jagged edges of the wood biting, threatening to sliver into his palms. Not the sickness of what he was doing.

His head was deafening, tearing at his edges so hard he believed he couldn't make it through the day unless something you was in his vicinity.

With a low, strained exhale, he forced the window up just enough.

His broad shoulders brushed against the frame as he pulled himself over the window, dropping soundlessly onto the plush carpet of your bedroom.

The air hit him first.

A scent of you. Rain soaked cherries, a soft lingering mix that had his lips parting with a small noise. It felt physical. As if he were to be punched.

He caught himself at the edge of your dresser as his knees buckled, his fingers gripping the polished wood hardly.

He closed his eyes, sucking in a shuddering breath of your air.

He was feeling calm. Relaxed. But he knew he couldn't be here for long.

So, when he opened his eyes - he glanced right at your neatly made bed. Your desk was scattered with loose papers and a half-empty glass of water.

He stepped away from the window, his feet sinking silently into the rug.

He needed something.

A piece of you to take back into the dark with him, something to hold onto when the space between now and the next time he saw you became too wide to cross.

His gaze swept over your room until landing at a bookshelf. It held many books, ranging from romance to horror - just as expected. But he noticed it, a small flash of red.

He stepped closer.

A hairtie? Scrunchie? He didn't know what to call it, but he knew even something as humane as this, he needed to hold it immediately. To taste it. To keep it wrapped around him until he felt seen.

His fingers brushed along the frayed edges and touched the fabric. It was soft, worn cotton that seemed to call out to him like he needed it.

It smelled like you.

It felt like how he imagined your skin felt.

Without a single second of hesitation, he hooked it around his fingers and curled them around the (red). He brought it to his face until his heart beat normally, until he felt real. Until he was satisfied enough to leave your room.

He was a violation. A sick, twisted anchor thrown out into a stormy sea.

He felt right.

Alive.

He dropped out of your window before anyone could notice a ghost had came. He closed it shut, the click echoing through his ears before stepping back to his car.

The moment he swung the door of his car open and tumbled into the drivers seat, locking it shut to the outside world, the dam broke.

He didn't start the engine or check his surroundings. He just sat there in the silence of his car, his chest heaving as his body trembled with an electric heat that had nothing to do with the panic he'd done.

Slowly, his right hand came up from his jacket pocket.

Nestled against his palm was the scrunchie he had just took from you. The velvet brushed against his skin, tightening his nerves to a max as he caught his breath.

Jeongguk stared down at it. His pupils were blown wide, swallowing nearly the entire of iris until his eyes looked like bruised ink.

(Red).

The velvet had tangled in your hair. It rested against the nape of your neck. It brushed the skin he spent days memorizing.

Just thinking about this, a small gasp coming from him, the tightness in his chest shifted lower. It coiled into a hot, demanding ache that made his stomach drop and his eyes water.

No, he shouldn't be.

He just broke two completely inhumane rules. He can't break another. He can't spiral. He can't let him do this to himself.

A choked, guttural sound broke from his throat, half-choked on a laugh that sounded dangerously close to a sob.

He closed his eyes, inhaling so deeply his lungs burned. He imagined the weight of your hair, the slope of your shoulders, and the exact moment those soft lips would part to hiss his name in anger.

He's breaking. He's turning into a flushed mess of a monster feeling a throb coarse through his veins whole.

It was painful. Tempting. A throbbing pressure that had his mouth watering with a sudden need to grasp and tug at the single last ounce of dignity he felt he had today.

He shouldn't.

He can't do this-

His palm trailed down his abdomen, almost deliberately as if that could keep him sane. Like it was your hand feeling skin against skin (red) pedicured nails slightly digging trails into the tan of his skin.

He pressed hard against rigid press of his jeans. He was hard and heavy against his own touch, a desperation coming through him that his vision swam.

"Fuck," he rasped, stopping his actions for a small moment only to continue lowering his trembly palm. His head fell back, the lower pain gathering more tempting as his lips fell open in a soft plea.

He gripped the steering wheel with his free hand, the velvet dangling from his fingers as if it could absorb you into his bloodstream.

Thoughts, just as evil as the ones directed at his filthiness, had erupted into his mind.

If you were touching him. If you had the weight of your palms sliding up and down his skin as he tensed under you, everything in him calm yet so far from sane as he hovered over you. If you allowed him to touch - would you sneer at him? Call him Ghost or Psycho? What about Jeongguk?

Would you sneer? Would you look at him with a mix of defiance and awe, finally admitting that you were just as trapped as he was?

What if you had your fingers threading through his hair? He could imagine that you felt the softness through your fingers curves while he marked and inhaled the rain scent on your neck. If he moved up and you slightly down and pressed your lips together, his tongue coming out to swipe at the cherry scent staining your lips.

The thought made his lips buck slightly against the seat, a sharp groan coming from his chest as a shiver crawled up his spine.

He shouldn't reach for the fly of his pants. He needs to stop. You're real. He's crossing boundaries if he were to ever go deeper.

His hand slid down with no hesitation, the friction of his skin against the painful mess down below caused his breath to fully stutter. He felt numb, completely stripped raw except for the feeling he felt jolt in his cock. The temptation. A rough need.

His hand brushed at his base, feeling the thick edge in him, just a small interaction buckling his hips forward with a small cry of your name.

His cheeks were burning. His thighs were trembling with a desperate, pain of heat. The sheer intoxication, white blurring in his vision - drove him to the edge, no bone in his body caring about the fact that he was in his car alone.

He just needed you.

Even if the you in that moment were his hands.

His eyes closed again, the electrifying image of you in (red) lingering behind his eyelids. How the dress you wore when he first saw you, that beautiful body hugging fabric, left very little to imagine.

He didn't care for that fact. He knew he couldn't imagine the intimate parts in you to his expectations. Because he knew, for a fact, that whatever your body was like under all of the fabric was way over his imagination. A complete beauty that is so intense that no mind could recreate.

The though had his thumb reaching out to press deliberately onto his tip, the movement sending a wave of heat down his spine. It caused his lips to quiver, his heart beating so fast in his chest that he felt his ribs vibrating with every thump.

"Stop," he whispered but his thumb collected a bead of precum, hesitating, before sliding his wetness down his length. His stomach churned tightly, a high rack of pleasure blooming under his abdomen.

Every frantic breath he dragged into his lungs tasted like copper and velvet. The scent of your shampoo clung to your hairtie, rain soaked cherries, and a sudden urge to bite into anything cherry flavored slapped him right onto his flushed face.

He curled his fingers down, wrapping completely around the base of his cock. It twitched under him, completely heavy and feral, and even the movement had him trembling.

He started slow, almost like he was torturing himself over it. His thighs tightened around his fist, humping lazily into his grip.

His other hand moved from the wheel to the car door, his grip completely white knuckled while his head fell back. He could feel his deep swallow against his throat. He could feel the pump in his hand. He could practically feel you as his mind churned toward (red) on your face.

He needs you. You'll push him away. He can take that. He'll take anything aslong as you knew about his devotion.

He tightened the hold of his hand, thumb reaching out again to fiddle with his head. The leather seat creaked under his shifting weight as his hips rolled forward, fucking into his own hands with lazy thrusts.

Sweat beaded along his hairline and slid down his temple as the tinted windows fogged with his own struggles, completely trapping him in his own suffocating hell of his own making. His muscles tensed as he worked faster on himself, the head of his cock punching up into his own palms. And his lips parted, throat unable to conceal any noises.

The feeling had him completely intoxicated, mind squeezing as his thumb wiped against over the crown, spreading the mess down the throb of his veins. He worked restlessly on himself, setting a ruthless pace as he couldn't help but breathe your name over and over again.

He imagined flipping you onto your back in the passenger seat, yanking your legs apart so he could bury his face between them first. His tongue would glide through your wet folds before lining himself up and driving his full cock into your tight, fluttering heat.

His teeth dragged over his bottom lip before biting down harshly, the stinging pain highlighting every nerve trembling through him until he tasted metallic.

"Please," his other hand curled on himself, fingernails stabbing into his palms. The sting felt good. The sting kept him tethered. He panted, his mind dizzying as he felt his body tip over the edge at the churn of his fist.

What if it was your mouth insertad of his hand? If he could feel the weight of him press down on the soft of your tongue, the warmth swallowing his thick cock alone. Your hand would take the rest of him, the space you couldn't reach, and pump and churn until he finished inside your mouth.

Would you still be scoffing at him?

Would you roll your eyes at him as you swallowed his arousal?

He strangled his twitching cock tighter as he choked out your name again, your name dragging over his vocal cords like glass and a violent shiver racked through his broad frame, his biceps locking rigid, every muscle in his body bowing upward as the climax hit him in a hit wave.

A choked, ragged cry ripped from his chest as his release tore through him, hot and heavy, spilling out of him and webbing between his fingers.

He glanced down at his lap, his vision slightly blurred at the edge as the sight of the wet patch on his jeans made his stomach hurt.

He let himself breathe for a minute, only the heavy, sticky heat between his legs and a metallic taste of blood lingering on the tip of his tongue.

His eyes flickered to your red scrunchie that he kept clenched the whole time, the fabric ruined, glistening with his own desired sweat.

He jerked off to a hairtie.

A sound came from his lips, dangerously close to the noises he stuttered when he fucked himself over. His body felt exhausted and hollowed out, but the static in his mind was gone.

Replaced.

Completely filled by the shape of you.

A dark, twisted smile touched the corners of his bruised lips.

He wasn't being healthy towards you. He did a complete act of devotion.

But yet he loved it.

You saw him everywhere.

You knew it wasn't a coincidence. Far from that, actually.

Of course, it started when you had saw him at the restaurant with Hoseok and Renee a couple days back. And what you had thought was a coincidence back then, viewing at it now - it was a slow shift where he had bled into your routine.

Like on Tuesday evening at the twenty four hour grocery store three blocks from your apartment. You remembered the distant smell of cheap bleach lingering off the products as you stood in the baking isle, debating on two different brands of flour.

But then, a heavy drop at the pit of your stomach had hit you, along with the strange prickly heat at the nape of your neck.

You had turned your head slowly, your eyes scanning past the display of sugar bags.

He was standing two isles over. He wore a heavy black hoodie with a cool enough design of gemstoned cobwebs glistening throughout the fabric. The hood was pulled up over his shoulders, masking his face, but you knew all too well it was him just from the way he stood. How his shoulders seemed to carry a lot that you couldn't wrap your mind around.

He was looking at the products. Inked hand reaching out to pull at a pack of cherry flavored sodas, yet his movements were sluggish. Almost hesitant.

And when his head had moved toward your direction, you quickly glanced away.

You knew he was staring at you at that moment. You could feel the feeling in you tighten, along with the prickle on the back of your neck. You thought that just maybe after a few seconds, you'd feel him look away.

He hadn't.

You looked back at him and he didn't even blink.

He looked different from the last time you saw him - when he thought he was alone spiraling in his tent.

His eyes looked worse.

He almost seemed guilty, but living on an edge where his body thrived for that guilt.

Like the guilt kept him breathing.

Before you could force your legs to move, he turned on his heel and disappeared down the end of the aisle.

And gosh, your nightly walks terrified you.

Usually you popped your headphones on and let a songs melody fill your senses and float your feet into the midnight, but that day you felt different. You wanted to listen to crickets sing or focus on the distant yellow flash of fireflies.

You had taken to walking the quiet residential blocks around your building after dinner to feel the cool night breeze rustle through the heavy oak trees.

But the comfort of the darkness dissolved the second you caught movement across the street.

Under the dim glow of a tall, flickering street lamp, a broad silhouette sat crouched next to a stray animal.

You recognized those tattoos.

He had his hand on a purring cat, fingers threading through the fluffy gray furs. His other hand was buried in the deep of his red jacket, his dark hair falling forward as he watched you pass.

The cat was stirring, meowing in joy, even rubbing its head against his bone, but he seemed to be focused on your footsteps.

You swore under your breath just as you quickened your pace, your shoes slapping too hardly against the concrete meanwhile your frantic heart had patched that pace.

When you dared to glance back over your shoulder half a block later, the space was empty, no Jeongguk or cat - but the lingering sense of being hunted followed you all the way to your front door.

It escalated on Thursday at the gym.

You actually had your headphones that time. Shallow breaths came from your chest as you focused on your squats, a heavy weight pressed up to your chest. The underside of your thighs burned with every raise of your knees but you knew not to care.

You wanted to get a good butt anyways.

The vibrations of a loud rap had vibrated your skull but it had kept you running. Your sets finished much to your joy and with sweaty palms, you had put everything back while rubbing your body off with a feathery towel using your other hand. Hoseok had gone swimming a building over and him being the one to drive you, you figured you should finish before he could.

You made your way to the women's locker room, song still loud- the sole reason why you had collided into something hard. You quickly recognized it as a person so you slipped your headphones off, flickered your eyes up as you parted your lips to apologize.

Devastating eyes met yours, the apology forming out of you leaving as quickly as it was for a hard clench of your jaw, the muscle under your flesh ticking.

You could've screamed. You could've hit him with a weight. Reveal the truth to everyone there that he had way too many interactions with you to be passed off as something normal.

But you didn't.

You clenched your pink gym bag tighter, feeling your sore arms scream in pain, and quickly stepped past the broad of his frame before a single word could settle between the two of you.

You felt his eyes as you scrambled away.

And you certainly felt the intensity radiating off of him for the rest of the evening.

But now, here you were, feeling safe at your own work, until you hadn't.

You stood at the kitchen, humming quietly under your breath as you cashed in a bill a family of five had left behind. The hum of the kitchen was a steady background noise with clinking of ceramic plates, sizzling of Italian meats, and the evening rush raising.

For the first time in a while, the constant prickling sensation of being watched had faded. Here, in what somehow felt like a second home to you - you felt safe. Untouchable.

Polished nails tapping at the screen, you cashed out the bill with a sigh of relief. Ten more minutes and you could finally shred your apron, slide on your huge jacket, and head home to lock your door against the world.

Then, the heavy swing doors of the kitchen parted, and Julia stepped through.

Julia, one of your coworkers whose name didn't sit well in anyone's mouth - she was sharp tongued, sassy, she seemed to take all the oxygen in the room by simply being there. It was rare to not see an eye roll come her way.

You didn't really have a reason to hate on her. She hadn't come after you yet, after all.

But today seemed to be the first.

She walked right up to you, eyebrows pulled together and a look of confusion pinched at the corners of her mouth as she untied her work blouse.

"Hey," she muttered, tossing the damp cloth onto the stainless-steel prep table beside you. "Table four needs to be transferred.”

You didn't look up immediately, your fingers still lingering on the sticky plastic of the screen. "Transfer it to Sarah. It's almost my cut time, Ju-"

"Sarah wouldn't work," Julia interrupted, dropping her voice as she leaned against the counter to invade your space in a way it made you pause. "I'm telling you to take it. Right now."

You finally turned your head, a flicker of annoyance tightening your jaw. "Why? What's wrong with table four?"

She looked at you like you had just grown a second head. "I don't know. Some guy. He just walked in five minutes ago, sat dead center in the back booth, and didn't even look at the menu. When I went over to take his drink order, he didn't blink once. Just stared right through me with these... God, I don't even know... tired eyes? Bastard was looking at me like I was garbage for breathing his air.

You raised a brow at her.

"I tried to give him the water," Julia continued, "and he just shook his head, didn't say a single word until I asked what he wanted. And then - and I swear on my fucking life I'm not making this up - he looked past my shoulder, straight at the hostess station, and asked where you were."

Oh how safety suddenly felt mikes away. It couldn't be him, right? The thought sent blood rushing to your ears.

She grabbed your arm, her nails digging a little too hard into your skin. "Now that i'm thinking about it, I realize who he is! He's a racer! An underground one, Y/n. I kid you not, i've heard some fucked up shit about him. I'm not going back out there. You want him? Take him. I'm clocking out."

Before you could rip out a single word, Julia whipped off her apron by tossing it onto the nearest stool, and practically bolted toward the back exit.

It was obvious who was waiting for you.

You knew if you weren't to wait on him, he would just follow you again until you noticed him.

Slowly, you adjusted yourself so you hadn't gone off as a coward, and pushed the heavy swinging doors open.

Soft jazz music played over the speakers as if everything in you wasn't on a complete haywire. The air was thick with the usual mozzarella, crushed garlic, and toasted pine nuts, mixed with that dread highlighting every single nerve in your end.

You reached the back corner of the room, table four, and even before you raised your eyes to look at him, you felt the gravity of his stare locking onto you. It was heavy, suffocating, and entirely inescapable.

You stopped at the edge of the booth, your hands curling tightly around your order pad.

Jeongguk looked devastatingly out of place amidst the cozy, familyfriendly Italian decor.

Again was the look of pure guilt threshing across his gaze. If it weren't for the darkness in his eyes or the coldness radiating off of him that had others coward in fear- you would've thought his brain was going through something completely suffocating.

And right as you locked eyes with his, you knew all to fuck off that usual formal politeness a waitress is expected to hold. Your jaw clenched instead, eyes narrowing.

"What the fuck, Jeongguk?" You spat.

He didn't answer, just watched calmly as you pressed your palms onto the porcelain table, nails digging into the wood.

"Do you have a problem? With me? With yourself? Why do I keep on seeing you everywhere, huh? Why ask to switch for me when there's dozens other waitresses who need a table."

"Don't flatter yourself," he grumbled, finally reaching out to open the untouched leather menu. "Got anything cherry flavored?"

You stared down at him, your chest heaving under your work blouse. You were standing here confronting a man who looked like he had just crawled out of a nightmare, a man who had haunted your street and gym and he was treating this so... casually.

"Are you serious?" You scoffed, removing your hands away from the table to cross your arms over your chest. "You..."

"You're being informal..." he muttered, not glancing up.

If only you could slap that beautifully sculpted face of his.

"...I just wanted to see you," he admitted. "Either you dine me, or I take you out instead... your shift is over soon anyways. Maybe driving, or to the beach, or wherever the hell you want to go, as long as you're looking at me instead of looking like you're about to run."

Your breath caught. "Are you out of your mind? Why would I want to do that?"

Jeongguk's jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched violently in his cheek. He finally closed the menu, the leather slapping against the wood with a dull thud that made you jump. "I'll continue to show up here every day until you decide to go out with me, or the cops come. Whatever comes first."

"What's your problem with me?"

He tilted his head up to catch the glint of your eyes, the piercing in his lip highlighting under the warm light ahead. He stayed silent for a moment, like he was deep in thought.

"I've been thinking about you and your voice," he murmured, his voice doing a great scrape to your nervous system. "I've been sitting in the dark, going completely out of my fucking mind, listening to pain until I feel like I'm rotting from the inside out. And the second I think of you, everything is calm."

Your eyebrows drawn together, a line forming between your eyebrows that Jeongguk's eyes lingered on. That little pinch, the formation of skin that you always give him whenever he was near. Annoyance. A look that he spent sleepless hours tracing behind his eyelids.

"So what is it?" He asked. "Want to go on a drive?"

"No way, I know you'll fucking skin my guts," you replied, smacking your order pad harshly onto the wooden table. The whack echoed sharply in the small booth, your move of frustration making the silverware by his water clatter.

A small, barely even audiable chuckle came from him. "Why would I do tha-"

"What do you want to eat, Jeongguk." You snapped before he could finish, narrowing your eyes. "You're my last table before I finally get to leave this place. Please make this easy on me."

"If you accept my invitation, you'll leave quicker."

"No, Jeongguk," you hissed through gritted teeth, your heart hammering against your ribs like he actually were to be skinning you alive. "I take your order, I put it in the kitchen, I bring you your food, and then I go home. Alone."

You watched as his eyes slightly softened in the hard edges, his dark agony back to swallowing his pupils. You almost felt bad for the sight you were staring back at, but that's something for another day.

"I just want to be with you," he said. "Is that too much to ask?"

Every instinct screamed at you to step back, to walk away, to let the manager deal with him or hide in the kitchen until he finally gave up and left.

Instead, your shoulders dropped.

"You're so..." You let out a long shuddering breath. You couldn't even grab the right words to describe how you viewed him. Psychotic? Yes. Crazy? Maybe. Sad? Definitely. "If I do this, if I get my coat and walk out that front door with you... you'll leave me alone?"

You watched as his lips slightly parted, a slow breath hitching from his throat. "...Okay."

"I'm off in ten," you muttered, already regretting your decision. "Are you hungry, though? You can't be starving."

"I'm fine," he said while standing up from the booth, his frame quick to tower over yours. You could feel his body heat along with his smell- warm, musky, dark in an intoxicating way it had you turning on your heels before another would could be exchanged between the two of you.

You stepped back into the kitchen, logging out of your schedule with a relieved sigh that disappeared when every single beat in your chest reminded you of what unbelievable thing you just singed up for much to your stupidity.

Ten minutes passed soon enough and you were already set to saying your goodbyes to your coworkers, smile tight while stepping out of the glass doors. Your heels crunched softly against the gravel path of the garden beds that bordered the parking lot.

And there he was.

Seeing him right away, that figure you can't escape sitting on a tall rock near the gardens edge. His thigh bobbed restlessly, cigarette fumes burning a small red from between his fingers.

It reminded you of what you saw in his tent.

As the crunch of your footsteps approached him, his leg bobbing stopped instantly.

Jeongguk's head snapped up. His dark and consuming eyes locked onto yours through the passing of smoke, the red ember glowing between his fingers before he raised it to his lips to take one slow, deep drag.

"If you ever try to do anything to me tonight, I will stab you in the dick with my highheel." You threatened, arms wrapping around yourself to block yourself off from the sudden drop of temperature.

"Okay." With a flick of his wrist, he pressed the glowing orange cherry against the side of the rock, crushing the ember out with a hiss. He then tossed the butt aside, sliding off the rock casually.

He buried his hands into the deep of his pocket, showing an agonizing restraint that felt more dangerous than any advance.

"I won't do anything to you unless you ask me to."

"Which will never happen," you rolled your eyes, stepping forward to fall in step beside him. His car unlocked with a loud beep, the red glow lighting up the space in the dim parking lot.

A terrifyingly fond smile broke across Jeongguk's face- which was a rare, unguarded thing that made the breath catch painfully in your throat. He opened the passenger door before walking to the drivers seat.

"Less than an hour," you demanded, slouching down in the leather comfort, the cold biting against your bare skin. "I want to sleep."

"For someone who acts like they hate me, you surely do come around a lot." He said quietly, his hand turning into the key until his engine roared, the vibrations rattling under you. 

His words cuased your head to snap quickly sideways to look at him, catching the way the moonlight had sat perfectly on the round of his nose. "I think you're getting this wrong. You're the one that comes around a lot."

"I do." He admitted. "But you have your fair share of times."

"What? Like when I confronted you for touching my things? Or now when you came to my work and if I hadn't complied to whatever the hell you're doing with me right now, I know I would've seen your ass in the morning somewhere strange? Is there another instance? I don't think so, Ghost boy."

He shifted the car into gear, the tires scrunching against the gravel of the lot as he pulled out onto the road. A humorless chuckle came from him, barely audible yet raspy, and you wondered just why the hell you couldn't bring yourself to stay away from him.

"I didn't tend to believe what Vante would say," his eyes quickly glanced over to you, rocking through your frame, then back to the dark road. "Until he predicted my crash. He's a nutcase as terrible as me, yet everything he says is true."

"And this conversation is going where...?" You tilted your head. Even if the words he was saying sounded somewhat interesting, you had no clue who this 'Vante' was and if Jeongguk was just manipulating something twisted into you.

"You might hate me at first, but it will be soon until you don't."

"You think that because your mind says so or because this Vante fucker had said so?"

"Both."

"You're weird."

"You're highly defensive for something that's supposedly not true."

You felt your skin prickle because, yes, he was the follower.

But you hate to admit that sometimes you'd crave to see those eyes of his.

"You are a miserable bastard hiding in the shadows," you shot at him as you stared out the passenger window, watching the blurred shapes of trees race past in the dark.

"Maybe," he conceded easily with no bite to it or no defensive snap.

Just that quiet, devastating surrender.

You didn't reply. You knew you couldn't. Because under the irritation you set for the man and the irrational fear, you knew you were curious.

Even if you wanted to open the door and roll out onto the pavement, something in you wanted to stay. To see what was up with him. For why, just why was he viewed as a monster while looking like he felt every single emotion eat him alive.

Silence stretched in the car. The road wound deeper into the woods, leaving the streetlights behind until the world outside was swallowed by a blanket of black. The moon cut silver beams through the windshield, casting ethereal shadows across Jeongguk's face every time you dared to glance his way.

"Where are we even going?" You finally whispered.

"Around," his grip tightened on the wheel, the rubber slightly shifting with his white knuckled grip.

"Why so?"

"I wanted to know how it feels to drive normally again," he shrugged, the car turning softly down a drive that connected back to the city. "It's... nice."

A full body shudder crawled down the stiff of your spine. Another side eye glanced his way, along with a slow, unsteady breath coming from your throat.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Whatever you think it means," there was something about his voice, like guarded yet a dark of sinister, that made your nails curl into your palms. "Like what you said yourself - i'm a psycho."

"I didn't mean it. I was just pissed at that moment."

"You did," He rasped. "Don't go easy on me. I'm used to it."

You glanced back at his dashboard, not wanting to make things even worse for yourself by opening your mouth again. Nails digging to a stinging pain into your dermis, you took the silence shimmering between the two of you to examine every detail of his car inch by inch.

"Chocolate Cosmos?" You breathed once you caught the side of a small, red flower blooming from the vent sitting across from you.

The deep red petals almost looked like a shade of midnight from the darkness swallowing the night.  They were velvety, a thin layer of a lighter color coating the skin until the middle where the flowers bud had turned to an actual charcoal black with the exception of litters of a lighter red - or rather pink.

"That's what they're called?"

"Mhm," you hummed, hesitating for a split of a second before reaching out to press your finger pads gently onto the velvet. Dampness soaked your tips and you smiled at the softness. "They're supposed really rare, I think."

"Rare?" He repeated, his index finger now drumming lightly against the wheel in almost the same motion his leg was bopping earlier.

"Native to Mexico but went extinct to the wild, they survived by cloning."

"They grow around me all the time, though," he said quietly, motioning his drumming hand to his vent. "Just look at that."

"And you're lying again."

"I'm not," he huffed. "They even grow where I crashed a few years back. Seokjin has people keep an eye at them everyday to keep bitches from tearing the root out of the ground. He likes them too."

"Like...? What do you mean by that?"

"In the cracks."

"Bullshit."

"How come you never believe a thing I say?" He shook his head.

"Because you're a stalker, why else?" You dropped your hand from the flower to fold over the other on your lap. "Why would I trust a shadow?"

"Good thing we're going to the arena," he snapped, turning his car down a road you were all too familiar with by now. "I can show you the proof."

"I just want to go home," you turned your body almost fully in the seat to narrow your eyes at his side profile that looked absolutely unreal under the lights as he inched closer to the neon strobes of the arena. "It's late. My feet hurt."

"That's too bad, isn't it?" He pulled into a lot, turning his key in the knob until the engine vibration had died out from under you. You decided right then at that moment, it had marked your last ounce of sanity.

"Fuc-"

"Step out. Don't wanna get locked in here," he interrupted you, reaching out to unbuckle your seatbelt with a click until it harshly retreated back to the car ceiling with a springing motion so fast it had you flinch.

His fingers just barely brushed against your thigh- gladly covered with fabric- but still not gladly enough to stop a tightening feeling to ripple through you. Your teeth chattered, your head gave a very tiny spin.

You stepped out before you could sink in whatever the hell you just felt, your heels crunching back into the gravel as you followed behind his retreating, broad frame. It was lifeless in the arena, although still throbbing as if it were a nightclub, only a few cleanup crew were around to bow to Jeongguk as he stepped past. An act of fear, no doubt.

He led you down the pit where you would've been blocked off it were a normal time of the day. Lines of dismantled vehicles lined the far back corner, and you eyed them with a tilted a head, wondering how crashes happened and just how injured could the poor drivers be.

One tiny gray vehicle showcased a dent on the rear, the metal crunching together to tear at the wires. Glass shattered all around the vehicle along with scratched paint on the edges.

And just as you opened your mouth to ask Jeongguk what happened to that driver- he stopped dead in his tracks, which sent you to slam right into his back with a force that had you grunting into the soft fabric of his shirt.

"You have a little thing to running into me, don't you?"

You shot your hands out, catching safe footing again and stepped back with your heels digging into the ground until you were at a far enough distance from him that made you comfortable enough to breathe. You looked up at him, brow raising.

"I was looking at that gray car," you admitted.

"Oh, Yoonki's," and just like he hadn't spoken those two words, the topic changed entirely and he pointed down to the chipped concrete under the both of your feet. "Look."

Reluctantly, you let out a sharp huff of annoyance and shifted your weight, stepping closer - not too close, keeping a safe boundary between you- and peered down at the floor.

At first, all you saw was dirt, a discarded zip-tie, and the dark shadow of Jeongguk's frame cast by the distant overhead lights of the arena. But as your eyes adjusted to the gloom, a sudden patch of color caught your attention.

A cluster of tiny, impossibly delicate flowers was pushing straight up through the fractured concrete.

You froze, the breath catching in your throat as your eyes widened slightly to snap your gaze from the flowers up to Jeongguk's face.

"How?"

He shrugged.

Before you could process the weirdness of it all, Jeongguk turned on his heel, his boots screeching the concrete as he motioned you to follow. "Come on. That's not why we're here.

You didn't want to move. You wanted to anchor yourself to the floor and stay away from stepping even further into his world. But there was a pull settling in your chest, one too strong that had you wishing to scream until your lungs burned. It dragged you forward past the rows of dismantled frames and shattered glass until the concrete floor led to a heavy steel door marked with faded wanting stripes.

Jeongguk pushed it open.

A wave of warmth mixed with a smell of coffee, iron, and tools had washed over you.

You blinked under the surprisingly warm interior, stepping past him into an open reach of a garage. Heavy duty tool chests lined the walls, gleaming wrenches, a skeleton of a vintage engine - it was all hung precisely.

You liked it here. It was so different from the thrashing place just outside. It was somewhat relaxing, and you wondered just how likable the owner of the garage is.

"Car is ready, Ghost," a deep voice called out from behind Jeongguks racing car. A sense of familiarity washed through you until the man stepped out, and you realized immediately who it was.

Sharp, almond eyes met yours. The man was fairly tall with lean muscle yet the bones of his frame gave him a presence that had him bigger than others. Bleached buzzed hair waved slightly under the overhead fan and you recognized him immediately as the mechanic from the other day.

"Oh, it's you," he breathed your thoughts.

"Namjoon," Jeongguk greeted, taking a step closer. "I think... tonight's practice will be different from the others."

"Oh?" Namjoon raised a brow? "How so?" Then a slim, veiny finger pointed toward your direction. "Cause of her?"

Jeongguk gave a very faint, admitting nod. If you would've blinked, you would've missed it. His action had your stomach churning and a sudden need to bolt out of the place immediately.

"The things I see alters my performance," Jeongguk walked over toward a red helmet, his hands almost swallowing the protective barrier whole as he rolled it around. "But when i'm with her... they freeze."

"Oh shit?" Namjoon let out a low whistle. the wet rag he held dropped completely from his fingers and landed with a soft thud on the concrete floor.

Jeongguk glanced back at you again, who was staring at him like you had full plans to drive your heel into his guts.

Meanwhile, he looked at you like you were a kind of holy relic.

An anchor.

The only thing standing between him and the edge of a cliff.

"So you're saying that you want this girl out with you?" Namjoons voice dropped. "And what will happen if you screw up? Decapitate her from the speed? Are you thinking?"

You looked between the two of them, heart beating widely. Every word they exchanged felt like a trap closing tighter around your ankles.

"I crashed once because the red got in my way, Nam." Jeongguk replied way too fast for your comfort. "But when she's near, everything's gone. Fine. Do you know what the means? Do you know just how much better my stats could be if I just do this one practice round when there's no pain in my head?"

Namjoon sighed, pushing off the workbench and running a grease-stained hand over his short hair. He looked at you, his gaze surprisingly gentle, devoid of the predatory intensity that radiated off Jeongguk.

"Give her your gear for her safety." He shook his head, reaching into Jeongguks car to pull out cushions onto the passenger side.

"What is this?" You snapped, stepping right up to Jeongguk, who seemed too busy fixing the tightness on his helmet. "Are you out of your absolute minds? I am not getting into that car. You said you were taking me home! You said—"

"I told you I needed you," Jeongguk interrupted, dropping his voice dangerously low.

"You did not!"

He stopped adjusting the strap of his helmet and lifted his head, his dark and burning eyes locking onto yours with terrifying clarity. "It's just one practice round."

"Just put it on," Namjoon said, his voice cutting through the suffocating tension with tired deadpan. "If he's telling the truth and his head clears up out there, you'll be out of here in ten minutes. If you fight him on this, you'll be stuck here all night while he tears the track apart with a split skull. Pick your poison."

"Namjoon," you stared back at him. "That lying bastard said he'll only take me on a drive. Not to a track where my life is at risk, have you seen him drive? No thanks."

"Yeah," Jeongguk muttered. "I did tell you I was taking you on a ride."

He pushed the helmet over your head.

"I'm doing just that."

tags : ̗̀➛ @champagneeeemamiiii @jksbluved @seokvrn @bjoriis @cliosunshine @bunniesprinkles @somewhereinmymemorysblog @kapopm @dandelionlattesblog please ask in comments or dm to be tagged 🤍

[bambihobii]

(っ'-')っ)`-' ) . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

[singularity4joon]

ohhhhu cause this is PERFECT burnout vibes 😵‍💫

[singularity4joon]

BURNOUT | JJK

racer! jk x fem! reader

part three

★ previous parts ↣ 1 , 2 ,

wc: 7895

His devotion to you isn't because of your pretty curves or how the neon lights shine beautiful casts off your skin, it's an obsession that keeps him breathing. An obsession that makes his hallucinations freeze. An obsession where his mind is so spiritually connected to your soul that he starts to feel everything in you. His body moves to yours in a way that helps your benefit. You're petrified of him, just like anyone else. But when will that terror turn into curiosity? When will that curiosity turn into love?

warnings: small panic, heavy language, smoking, parental problems, graphic tendencies, self harm, lack of self

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ ─ "What the actual fuck is wrong with you?"

Hoseoks voice rung at the back of Jeongguk's deteriorating mind.

Jeongguk didn't argue when Hoseok pulled both you and Renee out of the restaurant, and he certainty didn't reach for you although his hands trembled.

He just watched, almost devastatingly so, as Hoseok rambled apologizes as he ushered the both of you into Renee's car where you sat in silence afterwards.

He wanted to abandon the very last logistical string holding his mind together and put his legs at work. He wanted to sprint towards you until he's scattered to pieces or had the grounded scent of your (red) wrapped around his fingertips.

Hoseok was screaming at him but he wasn't listening.

Just watched, his jaw clenched as the headlights of Renee's car rolled until it was a faint of nothingness. Until the red came back. Until his breathing was gone and he was trapped again, in that suffocating deathly grip that completely tugged at his nerve strings whole.

Oh how he wanted to apologize and scream and beg and hold your hand until he was calm again.

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?"

Again, the memory of Hoseok's voice didn't dare to push away again.

"Please," he breathed, reaching out to brush the pad of his thumb over the delicate cherry blossoms stitching into leather. "Stop. I'm sorry."

Apologizing to your brain but you fail to act as such when you're with real people. Is there a problem with you? Do you even know how to interact correctly without being a total psycho?

Your wallet, although an object that barely passed any heavy weight, felt like it was physically pushing his hands downwards. Your phone wasn't even that far from him, either. His eyes flickered to his bedside table where your phone sat - almost dead- and completely untouched.

He gently walked over, passing the couch that sat perfectly clean and plain, and grabbed ahold of his charger. He unplugged his own phone and put the wire into your port.

He took a step back with the same movement he reached for a breath.

His index finger fidgeting restlessly, a hard moment of nail against loose skin until blood beaded. A painful sting he didn't even dare to flinch to.

His eyes flickered outside, past his barely drawn open curtains and watched as moonlight stained the following surfaces outside the sill. The city outside was bright and open, like always, no matter the time of the day.

He usually just sat there, still as his everyday statue of dread, eyes tracing the stretch of architectural buildings until the sun peeked over the horizon. Until his eyes flickered with frustration on why? When his conscious his screaming at him by screaming : why don't you sleep, Jeongguk? You need sleep. Sleep until your eyes are calm and not itchy and gone the blurs-

He took a sigh in, his lungs burning as he forced himself, stiffly, to crawl under his bedsheets. His heavy duvet wrapped around him almost like a hug but it felt still so foreign to one. It didn't bring the human amount of warmth, it didn't taste like cherries, and hell it didn't stare at him with fear.

It simply... wasn't you.

Your wallet stayed clenched in his hands.

He was tired.

His eyelids could barely stay open and his limbs gave a persistent, throbbing ache.

The wallet was as if it were a brick of cold reality. He held it against his chest, leather tingling his skin as he curled around it.

Pathetic.

He was simply being pathetic.

He closed his eyes, but the darkness behind his lids were worse. It was filled with the image of you - your silhouette when you wore that (red) robe, or that pretty dress tonight at the dinner. How you called him rude with eyes that stormed in a mix of fear and anger.

He hadn't meant to yell or scare you as much as he had. Or, maybe he had.

Maybe he just wanted to make sure you felt him.

That you understood that he was here to stay. He didn't want to ever leave your orbit. That no matter how much you might hate him, he could never hate you.

After-all, you made him feel real, like he actually could breathe.

He gripped the wallet tighter, his knuckles white, his nails digging into the soft material.

It was way too quiet in his room.

He missed hearing you hum over your speakers. He missed the way the scent of rain-soaked cherries sounded like mystical garden chimes colliding together. He missed the way the humidity in your yard made his skin feel real.

He just missed feeling alive.

And feeling alive meant dreaming. But what if he didn't want to dream? His dreams were looped nightmares where he was always driving, always searching, always just one turn away to breathing normally.

Only to have the road end in a cliff side of gray nothingness.

He hoped for the memory of your face—the way your eyes had locked onto his and how your voice had almost trembled when you called him a psycho.

He tucked the wallet under his chin, that being the closest things to you at that moment.

And fell asleep.

The burn felt good. The smoke crawling down his throat and grasping onto his lungs brought a satisfaction to Jeongguk. It always brought him to ease at days like this.

Sitting on a rock edge, thousands of cars whirring past and citizens shouting and talking as if this was a normal everyday basis for them. As if the loud of the crowd didn't make Jeongguk feel itchy.

It was a parade. A children's one at most, a simple event where families came to pick up the candy the floats had tossed out onto the streets.

He watched as a red bunny danced at the other end of the street, the fake costume smile wide, as the man behind the mask offered a group of children cotton candy.

"Not only had I ordered you to stop smoking, you're also doing it in a place infested with children," the same voice that haunted him every day called out from his side. "I thought I raised you better than this."

Jeongguk looked over to meet his mother's gaze. He dropped the stick to the ground, the back of his heel stomping out the remnants roughly until the red embers faded into the sidewalk.

"You said you wanted to see me," he muttered.

He would be lying if he said he didn't have a problem with meeting her at such a short notice. He didn't enjoy the time they spent together, and why the hell would she pick a place like this? She knew how much crowds had affected him.

And seriously, for the first time in a while, he actually had a decent sleep.

...With your belongings in his arms but that's a memory that's best to push away as if nothing happened.

"I don't want to be here." He concluded.

"It's not just a parade, darling. We're here to walk around as a mother and son tends to do on days like this. We can visit the stands and buy some treats. It was your choice to wait right here where the little ones played, not mine."

"You only want to be with me when there's crowds nearby," Jeongguk whispered while standing up from the ledge. With a sigh, he joined his mother's side. "Never alone. Never one on one."

"Oh, you," she scowled, giving the back of his head a playful smack before continuing down the streets. "You're thinking too hard. Have you finally started to watch some television? If you are, these movies are playing with your brain."

"No." He replied, swaying his body to make it through the colony of pedestrians without feeling the brush of their skin against his. His mother didn't wait, just bumped into a few people until they made it into a clearing where the noise dulled into a manageable roar.

Only then did she turn, her posture stiff, her eyes scanning him with that blank face with the same discipline she's held for him since the crash.

To her, he wasn't a world class driver.

A disappointment. A ticking time bomb of erratic behavior and anti-social tendencies.

"You look like a corpse," she noted, reaching out to straighten the collar of his jacket with a rough yank. "Dark circles, shaky hands. Are you on drugs? Is this what racing nonsense has led you to?"

Jeongguk pulled away, his jaw now tight. "I'm not on anything."

"Maybe you should watch movies, then you'll be a normal person."

"I can't focus on movies," he spoke the truth, his hands tightening into fists as he flickered his eyes away from hers. He looked at the venus nearby, looking at the merchandise as if they were interesting.

"Then you're loosing your mind," she countered, and in the corner of his eye he saw her lip curling in a way that made his stomach turn. "Ever since that crash you had... what? Two years back? You isolate yourself, you stop speaking, you stare at people like you're waiting for them to rot. It's all repulsive. You know how I feel when people whisper about me behind my back? Saying I have a psycho for a son?"

He felt a familiar prickle of rage beneath his skin. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, his fingers finding the edge of his lighter. "I'm not loosing it. I'm just... tired of the red."

"Yeah," she let out a bitter laugh. "What red, Jeongguk? Tell me."

"The flashes," he stared back at her, his vision blurring. "But... not all red. I like her red."

"Okay, I'm done," she huffed, turning around on her heels and not even waiting for him to follow. "This conversation is over. We're gonna go look around and shop like everything's normal. You're normal. Okay?"

"Sorry," he mumbled, walking after her.

His mother marched toward the row of vendor tents with her head held up high. To Jeongguk, she seemed to be performing the role of the well-adjusted mother for anyone who happened to be watching. Everytime a passerby glanced her way, her expression smoothed into a polite smile, while Jeongguk just kept his gaze fixed on the back of her designer coat.

The air changed from the scent of sweaty kid to fried dough and sugar. "Look at these," his mother called out.

She gestured toward a stall overflowing with fresh produce and sweets, something entirely different from the junk food stalls further down the line.

Jeongguk stood behind her, his posture hunched in an attempt to make himself as small as possible. He didn't care about the fruit. He wanted to go home. He wanted to sleep and cry and-

Cherries.

A crystal bowl held dark and glistening cherries, their stems long and delicate. They looked delicious as the scent hit him - a sugary, intoxicating wave of you.

His breath hitched.

His mother looked back at him. "What? You want those? Since when did you like cherries?"

He was already reaching for his wallet, but she stopped him before he could even continue. "Lemme pay, dear."

She turned back to the worker, her smile wide as she pulled out her purse instead. "These look marvelous, I'll take a bag of these. Jeongguk likes fruit, don't you?"

She paid the vendor, a thin paper bag crinkled in her hand as she turned back to him.

The sight was jarring that Jeongguk felt a flash of irrational panic. It was as if she had stolen a piece of you, as if she had reached into his private world and plucked the only thing that kept him tethered to the ground.

"Here," she said, thrusting the bag toward him. "Take them. Stop looking like you're waiting to fall."

Jeongguk hesitated, his hand trembling as he reached out to take the beg. The paper felt warm under his hands although he was trembling. He pulled one out- a single dark cherry.

He didn't eat it, just held it. Staring hard at the deep, blood-red hue, the same color of the (red) robe of yours that had never left his mind. The color of the secrets he kept in the dark, or otherwise known the color of the only thing in his life that wasn't dissolving.

"Well?" She pursed her lips, completely impatient. "Are you going to eat it? Make sure you spit the pit out, I know you've never eaten much cherries before."

"I'm not hungry," he said quietly, dropping the fruit back into the bag.

"You're unbelievable," she hissed, leaning in close enough that the sharp scent of her perfume collided with the sweet of the cherries. "Make sure to eat those later, okay? You've become skinnier. I don't like it."

"Okay," he breathed, dropping his hand down to his side.

Jeongguk followed after that for hours after that. He surely was bored, his ears burning with every word his mom had thrown his way. But soon enough, the sun had dipped below the horizon as he was back outside your window again.

The brown paper bag was ruined under the grip of his hands, his fingers leaving lined crumbles and marks into the holder for your cherries. He told himself he shouldn't be standing here. He wished to be home all day, after all. But here he was, standing here like it was sanctuary.

He was simply numb. He didn't feel anything except for the heavy thumping of his own heart- a measure he had long ago synced to the quiet flickers of your household.

Your house was dark, except for the faint warm glow bleeding from your flower candle warmer. He watched that light like he was alive solely for that. It was the only thing that held any meaning, the only gravity in his universe.

He pulled out a cherry, the skin cool, and held it up to the moonlight. He planned to stare at it until he saw a flicker of real movements come from your bedroom.

You were there. With a book tucked under your arm, you yelled back at Renee who shouted something to you from halfway across the house. You closed the door with a small sigh and padded toward your bed.

His limbs, which had ached with a throb all day, finally began to settle. He felt like he was exhaling a breath he'd been holding for twenty-four hours.

He wanted to rest his hand against the pane to see if the glass would vibrate, if it would sing back to him.

But, his eyes flickered down to his feet.

He had brought your belongings with him.

He didn't want to let them go. They kept him feel relaxed, the touch alone even brought him a slumber he'd craved for years until his body collapsed as if the idea of it being yours was enough to feel. To go against the laws his anatomy kept held in him.

With a sigh that pained his whole psyche, he bent down to gather your things into his hands. He stepped toward your front porch, steps painfully slow with a hopeless attempt to savor how it felt to have you in his grasp.

Your porch light flickered on from his motion, the sudden brightness causing him to flinch. He grabbed hard onto your railing, focusing on the (red) of your outdoor couch cushions to keep him calm.

To not get angry. To scream. To punish himself for letting go of his sanity this quickly although he promised you he'd give your things back.

Your front door unlocked with an echoing click, the noise trembling his bones as he quickly glanced up to look at the receiver.

Renee stood under the threshold, hands on her hips and brow slightly raised.

"Here for an apology, Ghost?" She tilted her head, her long hair brushing over the dip of her shoulder. Jeongguk didn't look. Just past her as if you were to magically appear like the two of you were bound.

You are bound.

You stop everything for him.

There's no other way.

"I need to speak to Y/n," he muttered, straightening out his spine in a smooth, gentle movement. "I got her stuff back."

Her lips fell slightly agape. "Like, her... wallet? And phone?"

He nodded.

Her posture shifted, her bravado faltering as she caught the intensity in his eyes. She took a half-step back, her hand lingering on the doorframe, her smile replaced by a genuine, creeping unease.

"She's in her room, Jeongguk," Renee said, her voice dropping.

She seemed to realize, in that second, that the man standing before her wasn't really there— at least, not in the way reality was understood.

"Look, I don't know why you're doing this. Seeing you at the restaurant was already enough and now you're at our house. Why couldn't you just leave it in the mailbox or something?"

He stepped closer, just an inch. "Because... I want to see her."

His words seemed to brush Renee aside without any thought, clearing a path through the doorway that he felt he was entitled to walk through.

"Just give them to me. I'll give them to her."

"No."

"Ghost-"

"Either you bring her out here to me or i'll go in there myself." He snapped. "You're lucky i'm giving you an option."

"Are you serious?" She scoffed.

He didn't answer.

She looked back inside, then at him. "If I go get her," she replied, her voice barely audible. "You stay right there. You don't take one more step into here. You promise me, okay?"

"I don't do promises," he said, his voice flat.

"Well, that's good. Because the cops will surely love you," she snapped before storming back inside and Jeongguk watched as her frame retreated into the dark, his heart now back into that erratic rhythm.

And when you finally reached the door, the air in the foyer seemed to drop in temperature. He didn't move as you stepped closer. He only watched.

His gaze was weighted. He traced the line of your throat, the rise and fall of your chest, the fake smile tugging at your lips. He looked at you with a hunger that was agonizingly raw, the kind of stare that made you feel like you were the only real thing in his entire fragmented world.

"Y/n," he rasped.

"You love to show up randomly, don't you?" You said, watching the way his shoulders dropped with somewhat relief. "Is that your favorite thing to do? What is it, I was just about to sleep."

He didn't move toward you although every instinct in his body was telling otherwise. He reached out his hands, grasping your things like he was a searching for them for years on end and they were holy relics.

"I told you I'd give them back to you," he said quietly, his voice vibrating through all of your skin. "I... I kept them safe."

You took a shaky step forward, stopping just short of the doorframe. You looked at his hands— at the raw, ghostly white knuckles, the way his fingers were slightly trembling— and then up at his face.

It would've been easy to claim that he looked like he was out of reality. But hard if you noted there was any substances at play. He looked clean, absolutely sober, and yet, he looked dead.

"Ghost," you knew that nickname fit him all too well, the word barely escaping your throat. "Why? You actually looked for them?"

He was close enough now that you could feel the feverish heat radiating off him. He took a deep breath in, his gaze dropping to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

His expression shifted into something so desperately lonely it made your breath hitch.

"Well... I... don't know."

He dropped your things into your hands.

He does know. Oh, he really fucking knew. The static was just too much and too loud when you weren't in his vision. He would feel like a monster if he didn't give his religion her own things.

"It would be disobeying," he concluded. "I comply to your rules."

"I don't have any rules?" You crooked your head confusingly, dropping your hands to your sides. "But, thanks for my things. It... I didn't expect i'd get these back anytime soon."

"Everyone has rules," he murmured, his gaze drifting over your features as if he were memorizing a map. "And I follow your rules. I have to. It's the only way the world doesn't... shatter."

He sounded so dangerously sure of yourself that a hot, rough shiver crawled up your back.

"You're really weird, you know that?" You mused.

"Weird?" He repeated as a dry laugh came through him, his gaze dropping to disgust. "Of course you think i'm weird. Is that what you call it when someone actually pays attention? When someone does what you're too blind to do yourself?"

"Oh, okay. Fuck you too-"

"Don't talk to me about weird," he muttered, his voice dropping to a harsh, final growl. "You're the one who lost your life in a parking lot, and yet here you are, acting like you're the one in control."

"I think you have a problem," you rolled your eyes as you turned away from him, walking back into the cold of your house where Renee was watching with raised brows. "Thanks for my things, I guess. I'll be at the arena tomorrow night. I better see you win, cause then it'll be a reasonable excuse for your attitude."

Right as you slammed the door in his face, a slow smile cracked onto his lips.

"See you," he muttered to nothing before walking away.

Your phone was charged.

The screen was lit so dim that it barely reached to cast onto your face, and the battery logo filled to the brim as if it weren't close to being dead the night you had lost it. It felt smooth, clean, almost like it was gently sanitized with shaky fingers.

You didn't want to sound like you were loosing it or creating a reality where he hadn't terrified you, but holding your phone felt like you were holding him.

Reaching. Definitely reaching.

With a deep sigh, you plopped your phone down face first onto your mattress. Hands now free, you reached over to grab ahold of your wallet.

Running the pad of your thumb over the blossom stitchings, feeling every rugged bump and crevasse, you let your eyes examine the thing as if you were expecting to find something.

And of course, you had.

It was something so tiny that if you didn't have such a nervous habit to observing everything to the rotten bone, it would've gone unnoticed.

It was a stitching for the bud of the blossom that had failed from the shakiness of the craftsperson, no doubt. It was less than a millimeter in length yet it was something you noticed a week into having the wallet. No one else noticed the fail. It was left brush aside for them but a mystery to you.

You'd question yourself if you should fix it.

It wasn't necessary, not at all. For ethereal designs like these, it craved for the eyes and or validation of others, if it was something noticeable it would be a burden to those same eyes but yet it wasn't. Only you discovered it and the imperfect play in it had only pained you.

Fixing it would have been the waste of your time. Useless.

But now, staring down at the patchwork, that simple mistake had been covered.

A thread, just a bit thinner than the rest, had placed itself in that tiny open space that made the wallet perfect.

You of course didn't do it.

"Ghost," you scowled, your voice devoid of any tenderness you thought was reasonable to hold, and skidded your thumb over to rub gently onto the fix.

You imagined how he worked on it.

Hands still as a statue, a picture he implanted for the public eye and yet you knew it was a cover for how his bones trembled. The moonlight taut on the deep ink on his hand as he wove a needle through the leather.

Just to make it right for you.

Did he do it after a race? Would he still be in his red jacket with sweat lining his skin, adrenaline roughly escaping his bones as he worked on his items? What if he was in his house in the middle of the day, dressed in sweats with half open eyes like he had just woken from a nap?

Either way, why are you thinking about this?

You dropped the wallet to your bed as if the leather had physically burned you. You stood up, your legs feelings at unease as you reached for your closet. You brought out two choices, the fabric soft against your touch as you draped them over the edge of your bed.

A shoulderless red knitted sweater over a black skirt or a simple white flowery dress.

Red is Jeongguk's color- it was your dirty conscious. A reminder that made your chest squeeze and your throat to turn dry. You remembered falling asleep and waking up to his barely put together voice comment how you weren't wearing red in a low rasp. He looked pained but commented how it felt right to him.

It's just a color. You might be reaching.

Would it also be reaching if you claimed you felt physically pulled to wear the red?

That a weight settled onto your bones but disappeared whenever your eyes scratched toward the white dress? A wash of dread that was felt in the same churn of disappointment?

It was always a fact to follow a womans tuition, afterall.

With a broken sound that failed to stay locked in your throat, you reached for the red top and quickly changed into your outfit. Your footing was light as you entered Renee's car and drove to the arena.

The place was tightly packed just how you imagined it to be, a sea of watchers ramming through you and Renee as she peered heavily over the ledge to look for the familiar racer dressed in orange.

Just as she screamed for Hoseok, you slid past the walls to find the restricted heavy-mesh barrier leading to the tents. Your fingers brushed against the edge of your wallet, on the fixed stitch. The proof that his own hands held where you were holding, working on it as if it could mean something.

It infuriated you. It terrified you even more.

Pushing past a cluster of mechanics arguing over data, you slipped to the lines of tents you remember all too well stumbling there the night he had drove you home.

The tent you recollected being the closest to your dismay but too exhausted to note how dead it looked compared to the other racers. No sponsors or the cheering entourage the other racers had. His was just... there.

Taking a deep breath in, you raised the flap to walk inside.

And there he was.

Jeongguk sat backward on a metal folding chair. His thighs straddled it, his foreamrs resting heavily against the backseat that you could see his muscle and pop of veins. His chin rest over the ledge in a bow of his head, dark wavy hair falling over to shadow his face.

He wore his red racing suit unzipped to the waist, the black undershirt beneath was damp with sweat, clinging to the sharp panes of his chest. In his hand, he was dangling a dark red cherry, twisting the stem lazily as it twirled underneath his fingers.

The sight almost knocked you off your feet but you swallowed, taking yet another slow step forward.

You realized then that there was another man there.

A personal cloud of silver hair rested like a curtain over his eyebrows. His eyes were set in a worry, almost glistening as he stared at Jeongguk who didn't even seem to be paying attention to the words he was saying. He held a stethoscope in the small of his hands, thumb absentmindedly brushing over the chestpiece.

"You're claiming Hoseok as false?"

Not only was the doctors voice so angelic, a deliver of monotone that had your heart melting, the name that came from his lips made your brow raise.

Hoseok?

"Jeongguk, he came to me. He said he's worried about you. I will take that man to heart, especially after I literally saw you breathing unnormally after your last race-"

Hoseok was worried for Jeongguk.

"I'm fine."

"I'm never going to believe you ever again after the shit you pulled last time you claimed you were fine. Now, stop slumping on that stupid chair, twisting that wierdass cherry and just let me care for you."

"No." Jeongguk muttered as he slowly lifted his head.

His dark eyes, rimmed with exhaustion from his focused intensity, locked onto yours.

For a split of a second, something vulnerable, raw, flashed in the depths of his pupils, like a drowning man suddenly catching sight of land.

His gaze fell down to your red sweater.

He seemed to physically, and roughly, hitch away that vulnerability with something darker.

"Leave."

His delivery was just as rough as the race your heart had under your chest. You came to smack his attitude and yet you found yourself with parting lips, feet taking a few steps back immedietly.

"Oh, sorry-" you started but it was his voice that had cut you off.

"No." He dropped the cherry, the waxy surface slightly bouncing on the straw that covered the floor before rolling to the tip of his boots. His hands tightened. "Jimin."

You watched as the plush lips of the doctor fell subtly, his eyes glancing to you, to Jeongguk, then back to you. With a sigh, he gathered his black bag and stepped away from the couch you had slept on nights prior.

"I'm just trying to see you." He sneered angrily, running his fingers through the silver of his hair. "Pushing away the only one who cares for you isn't gonna help anything on your part. Come to me when you realize you need more than fucking help, Jeongguk."

He stepped past you, not even glancing your way as his shoulder gently brushed your own. The tent flap swayed under him, the only noise that was brave enough to brake the silence coursing between the two of you.

Jeongguks jaw locked, a hard, ugly muscle ticking in his cheek. He stood up so fast the metal chair screeched against the dirt floor, tipping backward and clattering loudly into the straw.

"What are you doing?" He breathed. "Did you loose something else? Need me to drive you home?"

"No," you copied the same look he gave you - a furrow of your brows and the clench of his jaw- and threw your wallet down to the space sitting between the two of you. "Explain this, Ghost."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his split knuckles curling into tight fists at his sides. He looked away, his jaw working as if he were fighting back a violent wave of nausea or frustration.

"Your wallet."

"What- no?" You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you took a step closer to him. "Of course it's my fucking wallet."

"Then I don't see a problem." He deadpanned, already moving to turn around to God knows where.

"Wait-"

He stopped immediately.

"You know what I mean." You said, your voice shaking slightly, though you forced the words out past the dry knot in your throat. "That thread wasn't there before you returned it. It was... it was imperfect."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he sneered, his tone dripping with cold denial, though the tremor in his fingers betrayed every single lie. "It was damaged when you dropped it. I gave it back. End of story."

"Don't lie to me," you stepped closer, ignoring the voice in your head screaming at you to run. "Okay, yeah, you gave my things back which was nice- but this? You fixed it, touched my things. Hell, you even charged and cleaned my phone! Why are you doing this?"

"What am I doing?"

"If you were trying to be nice- I get it. But please... it's an invasion of my privacy. It made me... uncomfortable."

He stopped inches away, his breathing ragged, his dark eyes burning into yours with a terrifying, desperate heat.

"I didn't do it for you," he hissed, his voice dropping to a snarl, though the lie was entirely transparent in the way his gaze devoured every inch of your face, drinking in the red of your sweater like a starving man. "I did it because looking at a broken line makes the world spin too fast. I fixed it for me. So stop looking at me like I'm some kind of monster."

"A monster?" You repeated in a humorless, dry laugh. "I don't think you're a monster, but..." You started but stop.

"But?" He tilted his head, taking a step closer.

"But you're..." You faltered, the air in the cramped tent suddenly tasting thin. Your gaze dropped to the raw, split skin of his knuckles, then flicked up to his unblinking eyes and entirely too intense. "You're intense."

And when he didn't answer, you continued.

"You show up where I am, you take my things, and you fix them like... like you have some kind of right to my life. I don't even know you, Jeongguk."

You don't know me.

The thought tasted like ash.

Because, hell, you might not know him but he surely knows you.

He knew the precise slope of your collarbone, the exact sound of your footsteps on your bedroom floors, and how your cherry perfume lingered in the fabric of his car seat hours after you left.

He felt like he knew you better than anyone else in this world. But he couldn't say that.

"You don't need to know me," he broke eye contact first, glancing back down at your red then looking over his shoulder at the glaring lights in the distance. "You shouldn't even be looking at me. Everyone out there..." He gestured vaguely toward the bustling paddock with a jerk of his chin. "They look at the car, they look at the track record. They don't look here."

"Because you push everyone away," you pointed out. "That doctor seemed really honest for his cares, and i'm almost positive Hoseok sees you more than a colleague."

"I like being alone. End of story."

"Do you?" You raised a brow. "You don't look like it."

"I thought you said you didn't know me, yet you're acting like you can read my mind." He said quietly as he zipped his red uniform over his torso, the sound sharp in the air between you. "I don't get why you can't understand that I fucking like to be alone, okay? Use that mind. Hear my words."

You opened your lips to respond but the harsh flatter of the tent flap had stopped you. A man walked in covered in grease and black cap framing his short ashy hair and a cigarette pressed between his rounded lips.

"Your car's ready. You're racing today, Ghost. No excuses."

"Y/n, leave your things here." Jeongguk said quietly, reaching out to place his red cap onto his head. "Theres a man running around that I don't trust. You're a target in his eyes, but he won't grab your things if they're here."

Jeongguk didn't even glance to both you and the man as he walked away, the broad of his back disappearing down your sight until it was just you and the supposed mechanic alone.

"You a bitch?" He asked, removing his cigarette to take a better look at you.

"What?"

"Sorry," he let out a small huff, adjusting his footing to lean slightly more to the side. "Lemme rephrase- is he fucking you?"

"Oh," you scrunched your nose, skin suddenly crawling at his words. "That's... no."

"You're not tangling with him?"

"I'm not tangled up with him," you insisted. "He just... returned something of mine. That's all."

He tossed his cigarette into a metal bucket of water, the hiss loud in the cramped tent. "I feel like I've seen you before. Are you sure?"

"Well, i'm sure I've never seen you," you replied, threading your hair through your fingers as you walked towards the tent exit. "Please excuse me."

You didn't even know why you had obeyed in keeping your wallet in Jeongguk's place. If anything, you should've just ignored his order but something in you, something painful, had nagged you to listen.

Screams swallowed the stadium whole, the anger turning into engagement as a chorus of 'Ghost' had bled through the walls so thick it rattled the teeth in your skull.

"I'm sure he's thrilled to hear that," you mumbled sarcastically as you walked back toward the stands. You noticed Hoseok was back, still thrill in adrenaline as he shook Renee with a sweaty hug.

You waved at the two of them and sat down onto the cold of the bleachers and just then, the starter flag dropped.

In the fraction of a second, the track exploded into motion. Tires shriked, burning rubber filled the night air with a choking tang, and the cars surged forward like a pack of metal beasts.

From the very first turn, it was obvious why they called him the Ghost.

While the other drivers fought for position and steadiness, weaving defensively and taking cautious lines through the tight turns. Jeongguk was without a douby different. He drove with a terrifying dismissal for his own survival.

His car drifted sideways at the northern curve, the rear bumper missing the concrete barrier by mere inches. He carved through the pack, squeezing his car into impossible gaps between rival racers who scrambled out of his way.

It wasn't like he was racing to win. The sight tasted bitter in your mouth, like he was racing in a need to tear the track apart from the inside out.

You were almost... curious.

Curious on how this was the man who looked like he was falling apart and only one thing - an out of reach thing you can't figure out what- was the only thing holding him together.

Curious on how someone like him came to be.

He took the lead on the second lap, cutting off the rival vehicle aggressively that it had the audience next to you gasping.

No hesitation was apparent at all in his movements.

No second guessing.

Just something raw, dark and so suffocating that you could feel all the way up in the stands.

"Ghost!" You heard someone scream from behind you, delivery harsh and yet the engines bolting past your section of bleachers had dominated over his voice.

And as the neon lights swayed, vibrant purples turning into a flashing maroon— his tracks had visibly gotten more intense. If you thought he was frantic before, you surely don't know how to label his actions now.

The red strobes seemed to blend into the edge of his car, giving you an illusion where he seemed nothing but a cryptid figment of your imagination. You would've thought that he weren't a person if he didn't sit on the edge of tongues daily. He was real... strangely so.

And as the race went on, so did the constant flashing of cameras and rugged cheerings. Renee walked back in forth on getting snacks for you and Hoseok to chew on, the bitter yet salty taste of the fries lingered in your mouth, meanwhile your ear closest to Hoseok had rung from his loud antics.

But soon enough, the checkered flag had dropped in a blur of black and white, the roar of the stadium impossibly louder. Down on the infield, the red car- Jeongguk's-  cut a violent arc into the pit lane, tires smoking as it slammed to a halt.

Renee and Hoseok were still shouting along with the mindless euphoria of the crowd. But Renee was gathering her things and you took that as a chance to go back to his tent to grab yours.

"I'll be right back," you muttered to Renee, slipping past her knees before she could turn around.

You walked in the same steps you did just more than an hour before, a deep part in your mind hoping that a certain someone wouldn't be there so fast and you could quickly grab your things and go .

Who was this dude he didn't trust anyways? Sure, you had your eyes on Jeongguk's car the whole time but still, you kept an eye out. You didn't see anything suspicious or out of the ordinary, nothing that set off alarm bells in you.

But the idea on why you set your stuff there anyways was something best to push off aside for now. Maybe you'll keep the memory for when you can't sleep at night and your conscious begs to gnaw on something until exhaustion gets the best of you. Or you could save it during work when you're waiting tables and you get too lost in your orbit to realize customers are waiting for you.

Whatever it is, now is not the time. Jeongguk is not the time.

Concrete turned into dirt and straw and you passed the barrier without anyone stopping you much to your joy. The lights in Jeongguk's tents were off and considering how much later in the night it was, the thing looked like an out of distance horror sight. The air here was still thick with a metallic reek of hot breaks and spent fuel.

You slowed your pace as you approached, relenting, telling yourself that you're only here to pick up the things - not to satisfy the sudden aching need to see him again, to know what he looked like when the adrenaline crashed... not at all.

The front flap was pulled halfway down.

Once you entered it, you realized it was a narrow window into the quiet chaos inside.

He wasn't screaming nor hyperventilating.

He was bleeding.

Alone in the interior, still wearing his racing suit with the top half stripped down and hanging loosely at his waist, Jeongguk had his back to the opening as you watched him stare down at his hands.

One hand was a total mess, an outcome by a man who spent the whole race scratching at his skin. Blood stained down the path of edges, trailing at the indent of his wrist where the crimson dripped slowly onto the ground with a rhythmatic plopping noise.

His other hand was calm like it hadn't just torn away at it's own partner. The tatted one, the murderous one, lifted up to grab a single cigarette sitting on his metal table. Steady. Controlled.

He was so curious, a human who you couldn't wrap your mind around and in a way that you absolutely despised, you wanted to capture him. To know what he is. To know why. To know if he is a somebody that you could never find another of to hold onto.

"Jeongguk," you called out, your voice barely hanging by a thread.

You expected a full head turn. A look of anger. Those empty eyes to stare back at you as he yelled to leave.

But what came was no response.

"Jeongguk, I came to get my things-" you had started but the words choked when his hand, now free from the cigarette, moved back down to give yet another slow, desperate scratch to his bloodied hand. "Are you okay?"

Why are you asking? You should just leave him alone. Let him bleed. Keep it a secret that you had seen him like this, a complete spiral and you couldn't figure out as to why.

What's wrong with him?

"Can you hear me?" You spoke again.

And he moved. A jagged, harsh movement that wasn't aimed toward you. He didn't turn around or lunge backwards to you - he only just let out a breath, whole frame working together, that exhaled the smoke from his lips.

"Okay.." you let out a low whistle, not knowing what to do or say as you slowly stepped toward the place where you left the wallet.

You were close to him now, so close you could smell the musky scent to him mixed with the crimson and sweat, and feel the hot and sheer velocity of his mind. He should definitely sense you by now, maybe even see you in his vision, yet he hadn't.

He was locked. Entirely trapped behind his own ribs, blind and deaf to the world outside his narrow tunnel of panic.

You kept your footsteps impossibly light, your shoes giving a tiny click as you edged past the metal worktable.

Just watching him made your chest tighten, a strange ache mirroring the raw red marks marring his forearm.

Your wallet rested on the edge of a plastic crate near his tool chest, right where you kept it earlier. And you reached out, fingers brushing against the worn leather. He was close, so close you were millimeters away from touching him.

You snatched it up, sliding it quickly into the pocket of your black skirt, fully intending to slip back into the noise of the arena before he could snap back into reality.

You should leave immediately. Every rational thought in your brain screamed at you to walk away and pretend you had never seen the undergrounds most volatile racer like this.

But instead, your gaze dropped back to him.

He had stopped his slow scratch and now his bloodied hands were pressed hard against his forehead. His fingers tangled roughly into his damp raven hair as he tried to physically anchor his skull.

A low sound came from his throat - half a groan, half a suppressed curse- as his shoulders gave a slight tremble.

"Damn it," he whispered to the floor. "Stay fucking still."

You took an involuntary halfstep toward him, your hand hovering in the air before you caught yourself and letting it drop to your side.

You didn't belong here, you easily concluded.

You barely knew him, he was a stranger who crossed lines.

A curious one at most.

One that had you wanting to solve every cracked puzzle in him.

Your phone vibrated in your hand, forcing you to rip your gaze away from the back of his head. It was a text from Renee, saying she was ready to leave and maybe that was your excuse to leave his tent.

You let him lose himself alone.

"You're strange," you whispered to him but you knew the message disintegrated into the air, fading before it could reach his pierced ears and then you turned, heart racing as you knew for certain this interaction wasn't going to leave your head.

Nowhere near that.

But now, you knew that you'll come back here more than you'd like to admit. And maybe next time, pushing aside your fear - you'll let him know that you saw him.

tags : ̗̀➛ @champagneeeemamiiii @jksbluved @seokvrn @bjoriis @cliosunshine please ask in comments or dm to be tagged 🤍

[gukcnt]

nyla!! are you able to recommend me bts fics of the maknae line?

i haven't done much reading recently but i'd definitely recommend some of my favorite writers, they're all so talented! i'm sure you'll find something you adore from them because all of their works are masterpieces so you should absolutely check them out and show them all the love they deserve!

[ @ggukiebar @luvismenu @jeonlarity @jeonette @perfectlyoongi @koosette @cupidsbling @singularity4joon @wintrbears @jungkoode @jungkoostar @spideyjimin @kookied ] <3

[singularity4joon]

BURNOUT | JJK

racer! jk x fem! reader

part two

wc: 6731

★ part one here

His devotion to you isn't because of your pretty curves or how the neon lights shine beautiful casts off your skin, it's an obsession that keeps him breathing. An obsession that makes his hallucinations freeze. An obsession where his mind is so spiritually connected to your soul that he starts to feel everything in you. His body moves to yours in a way that helps your benefit. You're petrified of him, just like anyone else. But when will that terror turn into curiosity? When will that curiosity turn into love?

warnings: minor stalking, self hate/dread, obsessive tendencies, small worship, reader tends to forgive easily, small acts of violence, jeongguk lowkey is starting to haunt the reader, harsh languages, small second hand embarrassment at the end, mentions of jeongguk’s trauma with his family,

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ ─ Two heavy glass doors whirred past Jeongguk as he stepped past the threshold, his breathing tight.

The lights ahead shone a deep, lukewarm gold, a cast that reflected off the dark of his jacket leather. Light jazz music played ahead and if Jeongguk focused a little two hard - his throat tightening - he could hear his unsteady breathing over the hum of the speakers.

Cling. A guard dressed in head to toe charcoal gray suit, a man Jeongguk layed eyes on countless times before, stepped past him with a slow, tiny step. It was the approval that lead to the burn of despair or the smooth of joy.

Cling. The first thing Jeongguk saw was two, slim fingers hitting deliberately slow on a crystal glass. The hands belonged to a figure, one staring straight ahead so only the broad of his back was shown. He could barely makeout a small flicker of blonde hair - a maid on her knees, withered cloth sweeping over and over a polished shoe until the rythym of squeak flooded his mind.

Cling. Kim Seokjin's voice - the soft honey delivery with yet hard edges - spoke lowly. His metallic rings continued to hit the crystal with a cling. "Ghost.."

"Sir," the statue facade fell over Jeongguk's actions, his body calm as he bent his back forward into a bow. A movement that was nowhere near last night. A movement that screams foreign to the violent burst of shivers that kept his body awake until the hallucinations tripled.

"No need to bow for me, boy," Seokjin muttered, motioning the polishing maid away with the flick of his wrists. "I've seen your face enough to respect you. What is it? Why come so early? You should be training.."

"I need to see the surveillance from last time I raced," Jeongguk said, keeping his voice flat but the edges were laced with a hint of urgency. A plead lingering on his tongue, stale like salt.

Seokjin didn't answer or turn around. He took a sip of his amber colored drink, the surface clinging again... a sound that seemed to mimic the absolute race storming in Jeongguk's heart.

Seokjin turned around with a faint smile.

He was devastatingly handsome, framed by perfectly styled hair. He held the eyes that knew they owned grounds racers bled on. The same eyes Jeongguk remembered boring down at him the night of the crash.

"Surveillance?" he repeated. "You're an unpredictable boy, I'll tell you that. Usually when people come they ask for sponsors, hell even plead on their knees. They know I don't like them. You know I like you though, right?"

He wanted to scream. To shatter the crystal in Seokjin's hand. To demand the footage that would show him exactly where your life had intersected with his, but he forced himself to stay the statue.

Control Control Control

he had to remind himself.

"It's personal," he breathed out instead.

Seokjin laughed yet it failed to reach his eyes. He set the glass down calmly and stood up to pace ahead of Jeongguk. He stepped just mere inches away, invading his space. An act of a casual arrogant man who feared nothing.

"Personal? Damn, I didn't know you had personal things to you." Seokjin mused. "Everyone thinks your sole purpose is to wake up, talk crazy, and dominate the circuit with a high chance to scream in a nervous breakdown afterwards. That's your utility and yet your asking for something from me?"

Seokjin's hand came up, gripping Jeongguk's collar until he felt a thick, hot and violent bile rise in his throat. "My best man better not turn sloppy on me. You're my robot, you're my creation. You exist because my venue is the only place where you feel real. And now? Now you're going around asking for personal matters? If you turn back into your old you, boy, I swear to god if you've become fascinated to something useless-"

Before Seokjin - or even Jeongguk - could process anything, the tip of Jeongguk's knee went smashing into Seokjin's abdoment with such a force, it sent him bending over with a wheeze.

"Not useless!" Jeongguk screamed, every single nerve in his body immedietly locking into a high, white fueled numbness. "She's everything! S-She's real!"

"You are so fucking lucky I want you to stay here," Seokjin growled as he smoothed himself out, the side of his temple popping with a thick vein. But he stayed calm. He knew how to interact correctly, not like the heaving boy ahead of him.

He walked behind his massive desk and sat down, his leather chair creaking in the silence. He tapped his fingers on the desk, the sound rhythmic yet maddening to Jeongguk.

"Why do you want the footage?" Seokjin asked, his voice suddenly sharp and curious. He was weighing the request, not out of kindness but a desire to see how this could go.

"She lost her things," Jeongguk said quickly. "I promised to return them."

He reached for a remote on his desk and pressed a button. A wall monitor blinked to life, showing a grainy view of the parking lot from two nights ago.

"Fine," Seokjin muttered, his fingers flying over the console. "Find your girl's belongings. But remember, Ghost—when you start caring about things that don't belong to District 19, you become a liability. And I don't keep liability's on my payroll."

Jeongguk's breathing came ragged as he stepped toward the screen. He watched the smoky playback, eyes tracing the sea of people until he found you.

You, dressed in a casual work fit of blue, yet it stained onto him like he was torn cloth and you red wine. He watched how steady you were in a barricade of grey to him. How his breathing turned slower the more he watched you, and how he was white knuckled watching you smile at Renee and Hoseok.

Oh how you were such a perfect existence. He would've believed you weren't real if it weren't for your frame on the footage. For Hoseok wrapping his arms around you like you were solid. Breathing. So right.

He was so focused on your sole existence that he couldn't feel Seokjin's gaze burn the back of his mullet. He couldn't feel the gaze of Seokjin's cold yet detached pity.

He didn't understand that Jeongguk was looking at just a woman.

He was looking at the only reason he hadn't completely drifted off the edge of the earth.

Jeongguk's fist slamming hard onto the wooden table, clattering nearby cups, snapped Seokjin out of his thought.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Vante," Jeongguk snapped.

Seokjin turned his head slightly so the screen could reach his view again. Just under the static, he saw it - a photographer Seokjin knew too well, manbun flowing under the breeze as he sneakily grasped your belongings.

"Won't you look at that," Seokjin purred. "She exists in Vante's world. So I guess she really is special."

Jeongguk didn't answer him. He turned and walked out of the office, his back stiff as his heart matched the frantic pounds his feet echoed off the corridors. He turned down the halls and into the arena, ignoring the shouts of guards as his eyes snapped around the building.

He moved like a ghost, cause he was. Just a soulless fragment hunting for the remnants of your reality. And may heaven help anyone who got in his way.

A pale bandana caught his eye followed by a face carved from a greek god himself. A flicker of oreo - raven and cream - strands falling loose from where it was tied into a precise bun.

A camera flash came then, a full body shudder tearing from Jeongguk, then the photographer removed the device from his face with a tainted smirk.

"Looking for something?" Another flash of his camera. "Gonna tear me into shreds? I told you, fate is something that's bound to terrorize you soon. I was just so... bored. I wanted to make it come faster, so I did. I shouldn't be punched, I did your soul a favor."

"You." Jeongguk voice came as a gutteral, inhumane sound. He crossed the distance between them with a blur. "Give. It. Back."

Vante just stood there, leaning against a pilar with no signs of regret - no flinch or stance adjustment. His smirk was obscene as if he hadn't known what hurricane was brewing in Jeongguk's mind.

"you're so dramatic, Ghost," Vante hummed as he brought the camera up to his eye level. Not to capture a shot, but to cradle it as if it were his prized possesion."You walk through life like you're already a memory, yet you're so desperate to get these back. Why? You think a wallet and a phone will keep you anchored?"

"Enough," Jeongguk snarled, his jagged shadow falling over Vante. "Give me her things back. Now."

Vante sighed, a sound of disappointment and tilted his head slightly.

An action of someone who saw things.

A casual head tilt a playful dog gave when it's eye fell onto something interesting. Entertaining.

"I knew you'd do this," Vante breathed, taking a step back from Jeongguk although no fear ran through his veins. He was as still as Jeongguk dared to be in the spotlight - a gem statue with cracked edges. "You told her you'd fetch her things with the idea of, wow, so this is how I can see her again. A, wow, I can walk on her yard with a reasonable excuse without her looking at me crazy like she already has. You might've not thought it yet, Ghost, but that truth lies deep in your bones."

Jeongguk took a step closer.

"Just hand me the things," Jeongguk ordered. "Do it before Seokjin realizes he should kick me out."

A small, bitter laugh fell from the artists throat. "You still dont get it, don't you? I didn't take her things for the thrill of theft. I took them to see what'd you do. I wanted to see if you-"

Vante took a step closer to poke the pulse point into Jeongguk's throat.

"-Mr Ghost has a pulse or if you'd drift away in that car of yours until you're faded into nothing. My camera has always been real for tradegy, but a gamble for fate. But now, watching you tremble so humane, I feel thrilled. It's worked. My fate is right."

"Give. Them. Back." Jeongguk threatened, his voice dropping enough to make the air feel heavy.

The red in his vision came yet again, bleeding into the edges of the arena and the shadows deepening. He felt the familiar urge to just let go, to let the world dissolve.

But he locked his focus on Vante's throat. The pulse beating steadily beneath the tan of his skin.

Vante laughed, the echo short as he reached into the side pocket of his camera bag. He pulled out a dark brown wallet laced with Cherry Blossoms and a phone with a similar glowy, lenghty design.

He held them out just close to Jeongguk's reach. "You want them? Go ahead, take them."

Jeongguk snatched the items from his hand, his fingers brushing Vante's cold skin. He clutched your items until his knuckles throbbed a phantom white.

"Smells like cherries," Vante commented. "And laced with Cherry Blossoms. Have you ever tasted cherries on a cold, rainy day? Would you think about tasting one when you juggle between if she's real or if you've imagined her to keep yourself from walking into the path of a speeding car?"

"She is real," Jeongguk replied, his eyes burning into Vante's. "She is more real than you and the air I am breathing. You don't get to touch her things. You don't get to talk about her."

"Possessive already?" Vante cooed.

Jeongguk turned with not another word, items clutched tightly in his hand as he began to walk away. He could feel Vante's gaze burn into his back, that click of the camera that captured his retreat and obsession.

It didn't matter.

He was focused, moving, and grasping something he needed.

He made his way out of the arena, suddenly feeling anchored with your things brushing against his palm.

He didn't know where to go next - well, he did, he knew exactly where he was going - but the reality of having your things felt like a drug. A fragment of your life, a piece of your world, now tucked securely against his heart.

He reached his car and slid into the seat. He pulled his car into drive while his other hand felt the leather of your wallet. Felling the texture, the imperfections, the truth of it.

He was going to give these back to you, not because he was feeling descent, but because he needed to see your reaction.

He needed to see the flicker of confusion.

The startle in your eyes.

The way your voice would sound when you realized he hadn't just driven you home - he had gone into the dark to claim your life.

Your belongings stayed clung into his hand as he descended down the route he forced himself to remember the night he drove you home. The same turn of wheels he thought about over and over again until his body was too exhausted to think. The roads that made his eyes burn.

By the time he had reached your house, his breathing had gone normal again.

He parked just at the curb - not into the driveway, he still felt too declined to do that - but close enough to make an appearance.

The engines thrum died, leaving the street in a silence so tight it felt like a held breath.

"They were in the lost," Jeongguk breathed, the lie slipping past his lips.

It was a preparation. A practice of his pitch he needed to keep the distance he knew he had to maintain.

With a shuddering breath, he stepped out, boots crunching the gravel below.

His lips were moving, soundless, but the weight of his rehearsed speech staining his throat. He clenched the wallet tighter, almost upset he was about to let it go.

Your silhouette stopped him dead on his tracks, one foot raised in the air.

Your house being a one story cozy embode - also at home for another girl he had just found out - gave a perfect sight of your bedroom window.

Red.

Red Red Red

Fluff of a (red) heavy robe hugged around the curves of your frame, catching the warm of a small lamp and turning it into something entirely divine. Your skin was glistening, most likely returning from a shower, as you brushed your wet hair out.

A small speaker sat ontop of the wooden bedside table near your duvets, a female singers voice a soft hum twirled out of a small crack of your window until it wrapped around him.

You were so close.

Just a seperation of a thin, glass panel.

He stopped breathing. He didn't even realize he was doing it, his lungs simply refusing to cycle, as if the air in your yard was too pure for him to ruin.

The wallet in his hands screamed for release, but his fingers were completely locked. He felt a sudden, maddening desire to keep it.

To keep the wallet, the phone, the physical proof of your life—tucked into his own jacket, right against his skin.

And he wasn't ready, despite the excuse to see you. A right to hover at your space.

His eyes tracked the slow motion as you brushed your hair.

He felt so so so calm.

Like everything stopped.

Like every atom froze from your brightness, the glow radiating from your frame. A glow of a star in a dead sky.

The (red) of your robe was like a siren's song pulling at the frayed edge of his mind. It whispered that he could step closer. Whispered that the glass was thin, a flimsy lock and he could easily enter and become the reason for the softness in your eyes.

He could replace the hum of the speaker. He could be the melody that made your skin flush.

He would've looked down at your things if he could.

He knew he can't peel his eyes from you no matter how right it is to do so.

To leave your things on your doorstep and not return.

He felt his body twitch so hard it rattled his teeth. He clamped his jaw shut, tight enough to taste copper. The weight of the options came down at him.

Return them

Don't

Be reasonable respect her, treat her like she is your goddess you have to obey.

Hold onto them for a bit longer. Treat the objects like she's a goddess you cant reach and this is the only shrine remotely close to her soul.

He should retreat he isn't.

He's a creature. Coming from the dark to be anchored to your lawn by the gravity of your existence.

He watched you move with the unhinged fixation that made his eyes ache, his mind cataloging the way your hair fell. The curve of your neck, skin to bone. The way you hummed along with the singer.

Was he loosing it?

No. He's always been lost.

He's always struggled to stay locked to reality.

This is just... him.

And you're being... you. A structure of beauty that almost sent him flying to his knees.

He was a broken, shivering man clutching your stolen items in his fist while watching you bathe in the golden light.

He needs to keep your things. Just for a night. Just until he got his ass together.

He'll just wait here. Watch the light until it died and he would memorize the way the (red) robe clung to your frame until the memory was a stain. A nice stain. A stain that kept his heart beating in the rythym of your own.

Ghost, the merciless driver that owned red and matte-black, stood here, just a shadow reaching for the sun.

Knowing full to well that if he got too close, he would burn.

Your eyes were like two heavy metal locks on your bedroom window. Completely trained on the raindrops tapping down the glass, you narrowed your eyes before blinking.

There was something so entirely twisted about the way the glass shone under the moonlight and how the barrier absorbed the reach of outside sounds.

As if it were staring right back at you.

Oh God, you were being so paranoid. You need to stop that mind of yours, call it quits and just relax for once.

A sigh came from you, but quickly disintegrated when your bedroom door slammed open.

"Hobi invited us to go out for dinner, c'mon," Renee announced, already frantically pulling her brush through her brown strands.

"Not after the last time I was with the pair of you," you scoffed, turning away.

"Y/n!" She groaned, stopping her frantic brushing to set the brush down on your dresser with a hard clank. "You're still mad about this? It's been three days. Hoseok and I have apologized countless times-"

"You knew I was exhausted yet you dragged me there," you replied, turning to your mirror to pull your hair back. "I came along because I wanted to do something nice. You left me there. I lost my things while you were busy probably dicking down that bastard."

"Listen, I saw him and he- I just couldn't- things started and we struggled to stop," she stepped over to grab ahold of your hands, thumbs curling around your wrists. "Please? I promise Hoseok's dick that I won't leave you again. He really likes you and I love you, we were hoping deep down for you to come."

Her touch was grounding, it really was.

But didn't quite settle the ease that had clung at the back of your neck all evening.

You sighed, anger still evident in your chest although you knew you've been wanting to eat out for a while now. You needed somewhere that wasn't the same Italian restaurant you worked your bones at for way many times a week.

A nice restaurant, even with the flaws of Renee.

"He likes me?" you repeated, your voice flat. "Hoseok barely knows me, Renee. He knows me because I'm your friend. Don't act like this is some get together because he begged for me to come. It's a pity invite."

"It's not!" She insisted, her eyes wide and earnest. "He thinks you're cool. You have this vibe, he said, that makes him like you. And... y'know, if you're close to me, you're gonna have to be close to him too."

"Who does he not like?"

"Trust me, a lot of people."

You gave her a knowing look.

"Come on," she frowned, giving your wrists a gentle tug. "It'll be just us three. No loud music or racing cars, no... whatever happened that night which made you suddenly hate me, just dinner! I'll even pay for you, okay? Please? If I leave you here alone, I'm going to spend the whole night being guilty and then I won't be able to enjoy the food."

She let go of your wrists and started tearing through your closet. She pulled out a black dress designed with darker blossoms and tossed it onto the bed. "Put this on. It's very pretty, ain't cherry blossoms your favorite flowers too...? You had them on your wallet and phone."

"Key word," you deadpanned, piking the silk up from your sheets. You examined it with a frown then gave in with a small, almost regretting shrug. "Had."

"Listen, I've been contacting District 19 everyday-"

"I know," you cut her off with a sigh, tucking the dress under your arm. "Give me twenty minutes. Renee, I swear if you ditch me again- I'll chop off Hoseoks dick so you won't have a reason to ditch me again. Got it?"

Renee beamed, a flash of genuine relief crossing her face. "Deal! Yay! I'll go heat up the car, you put on some music or something you've been quiet. Also, his dick might fix my problems. Cause then, maybe I won't be so attached to a man who doesn't actually care, whatever, see ya soon!"

You frowned for a quick second, her words almost breaking your heart. You forced yourself to push the thoughts away, though, by stepping into your bathroom to change.

Once the fabric clung around you, you stepped back out to grab your bag from from your dresser where Renee left her hairbrush. You let out yet another sigh as you slung it over your shoulder, then stepped outside.

The cool air hit your face, the back of your neck princkling again. You shook your head, forcing the sensation away as you hopped into the passenger seat where Renee was shuffling through her aux.

"Cha Cha by Freddie Dredd," she sung once you buckled yourself into the seat. "A beautiful song. Hey, since I dragged you along, do you have any requests? I'll play things for you!"

From the way she tapped her fingers on the steering wheel in sync with the dark beat, her head slightly bobbing - your mouth had become dry. "Requests?" You repeated. "No, this is good. Keep this on."

Your eyes flickered to the review mirror, empty rain slicked road behind you glowing from her headlights. You fixed your hair as she pulled out, fingers sledding through smooth strands like that could make you feel better about the weight pulling at you.

"Is the bass physically hitting you? You look at ease," she was bright yet unbothered as she swiped through her playlist with her thumb. "Ariana Grande? Gee, do you remember your Ariana Grande phase? I mean, she is a queen."

She interrupted herself by tapping 'ghostin" to play.

Your breath hitched but it was discreet enough for her bubbly self not to catch the sound.

You were so busy clawing at her that you forgot to inform her about the man that had eyes that swallowed all of nearby light.

"Ghost," you whispered, your stomach now feeling heavy.

"Huh?" Renee hummed, stealing a glance at you.

"Nothing," you offered her a smile before staring out the window again to the dark wooded patches of the outskirts. Woods faded into city lights and it was soon enough until she was pulling into a semi-crowded place sitting just at the edge of a sharp city corner.

"Oh my!" Hoseok's voice tore through everything. "She came! Woah!"

He was leaning out of his driver's window, face a mask of delight. He hopped out at the same time Renee had and you followed with a wary smile.

"I told you she'd come around!"

Hoseok stepped past her to grab ahold of your shoulders, fingers digging into your skin. He begun to shake you. "Renee told me you hated me, ach, it's a good thing that it looks like you don't. I'm sorry for leaving you guys behind. you see, I was looking for Ghost 'cause he needed me for a personal matter- but then I realized he was racing by then."

You forced a laugh, unhooking your purse to swing it over his neck.

"Hold that then I'll forgive you."

"Okay," he breathed. "Let's get inside. I already put our names in, good thing you came or that wouldve been embarrassing. Two instead of three.."

As you walked toward the entrance, the laughter of others and clinking of silverware boomed around you. The air was warm inside, packed, a smell of garlic and chili oil.

Hoseok led the way to a booth tucked toward the back.

It was easy to fall into conversation. You watched them and laughed at Hoseoks easy conversation. Renee leaned slightly into him, a connection you couldn't help but give a lopsided down smile at.

The waiter arrived and took your order for drinks.

The moment he left, Renee gasped.

"Is that Ghost?"

The laugher died in your throat, silenced as if someone had clamped a hand over your mouth.

Your heart didn't just skip a beat, it plummeted, hitting the floor of the booth with a sickening thud.

You didn't want to look. You didn't want the nightmare to breach the walls of this place which was supposed to be bright and loud. Safe.

Renee leaned further down the table, her polished nails tapping against the seal as she narrowed her eyes. Her head tilted, she hummed.

"It is! Hoseok, Y/n, look. Omigod, I guess he really is real outside of District 19."

You watched as Hoseok's eyes flickered to you for a quick second, his smile just faintly twitching into nothing.

"Oh," he breathed, then as if something twisted had clicked into his mind— he physically jolted. "OH! Y/n! Wanna go to the back with me, to uh, grab some... uh, just let's go outside real quick-"

"Why?" Renee frowned, tilting her head as she sat back down properly onto the vinyl booth. "What the fuck, Hoseok?"

"What-?"

She suddenly crossed her arms over her chest, the motion so sudden you could've missed it with the blink of your eyes.

"Hm... I think he looks lonely."

You looked over your shoulder, eyes snapping to him even if your mind was screaming at you to keep that restraint still. Tethered.

He sat alone at one of the booths tucked under an overhead floor, the structure casting a lengthy shadow over him and the wood. His hands were cupped over a cup of untouched cola, his eyes hooded as he stared down at the ascending bubbles.

The dark curls of his mullet fell over the sharp of his face, the strands completely blocking out the view of his empty eyes. Clad in a black crewneck with weighted jeans, he looked like a man who didn't belong in a place like this.

A place where everyone smiled.

Clothing was bright.

Never alone.

"Not just lonely... sad," Renee muttered, over dramatically clutching her palm to her chest, nails digging into her top. "Like, really sad. Should we invite him over!"

"No-" You started but Hoseok was quick to cut you off,

"I think the dude thrives in being lonely, trust me, I've tried to befriend him many times before." Hoseok said quickly, setting his glass of water down onto the table. "He respond in short sentences, and if there's an exception of anything longer— he's cursing you out. And not only that, I think he's going through something just lately. He's acting... I don't know. We should just, lie low, maybe wave but like–"

"Ghost!" Renee cheered.

"Renee!" Both you and Hoseok kicked her shin under the table. Hoseok shot you a confused glance before gasping. "Renee, Renee, Renee, what the hell?"

"He looks sad, okay?" She frowned, a small dimple pressing onto her chin. "Like... just look at the dude. He looks like he's trapped in a storm cloud and can't get out."

"You guys don't understand," Hoseok said urgently, his tone completely serious. "Well... Renee, you don't understand. He doesn't just do things like this unless he wants to. I've seen what he's like when he wants something, It's not good. We should just leave him be, like actually. Let him eat alone. Let him stare into a void at that cup."

"You're talking crazy," Renee replied, hoisting her palms onto the table to scoot herself out of the booth.

"No, Renee-" You started but before the words could fully land, she was already pacing down the aisle.

The overhead soft music suddenly felt distorted to you more and more as she approached him, the speakers calm delivery's turning into ragged screeches in your ears.

"Oh, fuck," Hoseok dropped his face down to his hands with a sigh.

You watched, heart a bird trapped in a cage as Renee's lips spoke gently to the mysterious man that held a shadow that completely swallowed the booth.

She used her thumb to point to you and Hoseok.

His eyes flickered to you for a split second.

His lips just barely curled into a faint smile.

Oh, why are you suddenly so nauseous?

It wasn't long until he was following Renee. His strides almost hesitant and short, a ragged comparison to her bubbly jumps and squeals of excitement. Hoseok groaned from across of you, his hands now suddenly fidgeting at his glass cup.

"Y/n, I think you should lea-"

Jeongguk stopped at the edge of the booth. He didn't look at Renee or glance to the chuckling nervously Hoseok. He looked down at you, his eyes dark, blown-out, and swirling with a mixture of rage and relief that made your head spin.

"Hoseokkkk," Renee beamed, grabbing ahold of Jeongguk's shoulders to push his body down to the empty space next to Hoseok. He plopped down with a small huff, the air immediately shifting into something more dangerously tense. "Your racing buddy is here."

Jeongguks head dipped just slightly, a movement that screamed far from interested. His hair swept over his eyes and for just a split of a second, you saw his irises already locking down on you.

You gulped and looked away.

Renee is smiling bright, completely unfazed by the tension. She sat down next to you, shoulders brushing yours while she's directly across from Hoseok.

"Ohhh, bud, hey there!" Hoseoks mask quickly slips on, a unfazed happiness while his hand reaches out to offer Jeongguk his food menu. "Didn't expect to see you here. Y'know, people never really see you outside of the arena. Why the change of heart?"

His didn't reach for the menu or look at Hoseoks outstretched hand. His gazed stayed lock on you as if the rest of his sight was ignoring the rest of the table entirely.

The silence he brought with him was utterly, disgustingly, absolute.

"I was hungry," he said quietly.

Hoseoks smile wavered just a hairline. He retracted the menu, nodding over and over again. "Right... cause, that makes sense."

Every instinct you possessed was screaming at you to stand up and run, but your legs felt like they were bolted to the floor.

"What's your favorite food, Ghost?" Renee asked, slightly leaning over the table to rest her head onto her hand. "I'm sure they'll have it here, this place has everything. They even have the Rigatoni and Ribeye pasta Y/n absolutely adores. Isn't it hard to find it elsewhere?"

"Huh?" You split your gaze away from Jeongguk, not even realizing you were absorbing every detail of the sprinkle of deep gold barely visible in his eyes. "Oh, yeah. It's such a nightmare. I'm sure this place is the only one that makes it good enough anyways."

"Rigatoni and Ribeye," he repeated, the words lingering on his tongue as if savoring the fact. "I like... whatever."

"Whatever?" Renee gasped, reaching out to snatch Hoseoks menu from his hands. "Perfect, then let me choose something for you to eat. Don't be afraid, I have absolutely the best taste in food, okay?"

"No," Jeongguk snapped then quietly let out a breath. "I'm not eating."

"You should eat something," Hoseok said at the same time you muttered, "Then why are you here?"

You couldn't help the question from coming out. Your skin prickled everywhere his gaze touched, it was maddening. It was as if he was consuming the space around you, observing every single flaw and perfection lining your skin.

"I can't stay away," he muttered.

"From here?" Renee tilted her head. "Well, I mean I guess everyone has a favorite comfort space. This is a cute place to just hangout at, I totally see your vision-"

Jeongguk looked back at you, "No."

An answer to Renee's question that turned your stomachs nausea into a sharp and twisted pain.

Hoseok frowned, his eyes darting between the two of you, sensing the shift in the atmosphere—the sudden, suffocating tension that seemed to center entirely on you.

Renee's lips opened to speak again, but the waiter had came over with a slight smile. "Oh, we have another guest," he said softly, crossing his hands ahead of him. "Is everyone here ready to order?"

"I'll have the Rigatoni and Ribeye," you said, your voice sounding thin and brittle.

You didn't dare look at Jeongguk. You knew he was staring at you—you could feel his gaze tracing the line of your collarbone, and the dip where skin met lips.

"And also a water, the cherry soda is too strong," you ended off your order with a beam.

"I'll take the same," Renee added, her enthusiasm still high for Jeongguks appearance though it was slightly faded from his blatant attitude. "And bring an extra plate for our friend here too, please. He doesn't wanna eat but I know he'll drool by just looking at our plates."

"I said I didnt-"

"And a hamburger for me," Hoseok cut off Jeongguk quickly, gathering the menus to hand them to the waiter.

The waiter scribbled then retreated quickly.

Hoseok cleared his throat, his fidgeting intensifying and took a long gulp of his water, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"So, Ghost... usually you're prepping for the Sunday races around this time. You're taking tonight off? Seems risky, with the season peaking and all."

Jeongguk looked down at his hands. "Yeah," he breathed. "Usually I am."

Jeongguk didn't even know what he was doing.

His mind was a complete mess. He remembered looking at you and breathing right but the moment you and Renee had left in her car he immediately felt burned like a pile of dismantled ash.

He told himself over and over again that he shouldn't. That no matter how much temptation shuddered through his bones, he needed to stay away. He can't follow.

But, he was already racing to his car by the time he realized his thoughts and actions are very two different stigma's.

He forced himself to continue staring at his hands. Crusted at the edges where his knuckles split raw, a flush pink that almost matched the delicate polish lining your nails. He remembered getting mad. He remembered slamming his fist somewhere and yet the scream and sounds of break was distant.

It was rough, violent, something he can't wrap his mind around.

His eyes flickered up to you.

You were gorgeous, soft, the only thing his mind could wrap around without any distortion.

Your perfume evaporated the booth whole. It coaxed the table cloth, the small flicker of the white candles, and sat right at the bump of his nose.

Cherries.

"I need cherries," he rasped.

Hoseok- who was in the middle of rambling about something completely out of his dictionary (like snakes), stopped his flow of words to look back at Jeongguk. His brows raised, almost confused.

"So you do know this is a fancy restaurant, right? They probably won't serve you plain cherries. Well... there's probably cherry flavored stuff like, cherry chicken? And, bud, I am so sorry but you already missed your opportunity to order, you kind of did say you didn't want to eat anything. But I'm sure you can go to the front and ask... are you even listening to me, or are you just staring at the wall? Or, wait, are you looking at Y/n? C'mon, bro, don't be a creep."

"Does your mouth ever stop?" Jeongguk looked back at Hoseok. "and your friend. Some people can't stand it."

"They invited you here, Ghost," you spoke despite the deep rooted fear churning in your stomach. "They offered to pay for your food which you didn't even try to thank them or even accept their offer. You're being a dick and staring at me like some psycho-"

Your words broke the protective seal that kept her words from crashing down onto him.

That voice that sounds the same through many years of adulthood but yet so devoid of the motherly warmth Jeongguk used to bathe in. It was cold, painful, a noise that drowned him so deep it was until his ears popped from the depths of the pressure alone.

"Everyone's calling you a psycho, boy. I can't have that... title be put under my name."

"Until you get your acts together, I can't have a psycho as a son."

"Can you see this, psycho? Can you see what you've done to your father and I or is it buried under your hallucinations?”

A bang echoed throughout the atleast what used to be a calm, somewhat relaxing dining space.

A connect of roughed palm to velvet cloth with the force of the slam hard enough to rattle the table and the remains of what sat of drinks in the crystal glasses.

The sound of his fist hit that table in a sickening, hollow thud that it shattered the restaurant's polite murmur instantly. Around you, conversations died mid-sentence.

The weight of stares.

"Psycho?" He repeated, a rough, almost bitter sound of laughter came out of his pierced lips that it personally stabbed you in the gut. "You think I'm a psycho for wanting to be near something normal? If you ever repeat those words to me ever again, I will show you a real fucking psycho."

"Jeongguk, stop," Hoseok said with a strained voice. "Just stop. You're making a scene."

"You're being incredibly rude," you managed to say, just about failing to keep your voice stable. "First you were unkind to me the other day and now you're being rude to my friends. It's their personality, I love them because of it. If you're going to act like this, just leave. Please."

Jeongguk's head tilted, a slow yet unnatural motion. The faint and cruel smile tugged at his lips again, twisting his features into something jagged and beautiful.

"Leave?" He repeated the word as if it were a foreign concept. "I never leave the things I want even if the pleads rot my brain. I was guilty, and even if I still am, I will continue to stay rooted. To stare. I'm not going anywhere."

"Jeongguk, I think we need to talk." Hoseok let out a small breath.

"No," Jeongguk said, his eyes drilling into you. "You brought her along and gave me the opening. Don't act surprised when I take it."

He didn't move although Hoseok let out a nervous chuckle.

He just sat there, a silent dare to anyone in the room - daring you - to try and move him.

tags : ̗̀➛ @champagneeeemamiiii @jksbluved @seokvrn please comment or dm to be tagged 🤍

[singularity4joon]

hey! I love your work sm, I was wondering if you’d do any Hobi oneshots? he’s been recking me recently and a smut with him would be feral 😵‍💫🤭

you bet i will hun! my personal friend is a heavy hobi biased so i had a plan to make one of him next anyways <3 i’ll probably get the 2nd chapter of BURNOUT published first then get it started (i already have a few plans in mind) 💕