what are the odds that you'd appear?

Of-course the news and clips went WILDFIRE among not just ARMY, quite frankly the entire world and even other fandoms. But since it was still a mystery comparable to the Bermuda Triangle that the members still weren't responding to the question about who you were dating.

All the same, the lives and your caring nature just fueled different parts of the same theory. Since the reveal of your relationship to your said 'lover' in BTS, you'd become HEAVILY involved into lives, mostly using hand gestures or typing out responses on your phone to respond.

Not to mention the numerous occasions of subtle but deep care which ARMYs just could NOT brush off as simple 'friendship' with other members if you were only dating one of them.

Besides, you seem to be living the time of your life, who cares if you left ARMY in confusion on who you're dating?

It was around 2 or 3 in the morning, right after a BIG social event where they'd won their award so..despite how late it was, all the members were clearly awake.

And of-course, Jeongguk being himself chose the late time to go live with ARMYs.

Jeongguk was holding the camera with his cheeks flushed as if changing into his night-clothes had been workout while his hair was also damp. So he likely just took a shower. Despite the quick shower, some glitter was still speckled on his forehead.

But he was clearly with the other members since you could hear some low chattering and shuffling in the background alongside noises of the TV, utensils, etc.

He shifted a pile of clothes or lifted different things to look for your usual origami bear mask that he had made. It was so he could film more carefully and also freely without worrying if any reflective surface was showing your face or if he ended up angling the camera a certain way.

He pouted, "Yah, ARMY..we should schedule lives more carefully, I can't find their mask–" he huffed, pushing the door to someone's room, "Yah, hyung. Did you see their mask?" he asked, stepping and looking at the camera for a second to fix his pout and face, only to likely receive a disagreement response because he groaned after facing the said hyung.

He gently pushed a few blankets, before groaning petulantly and whining, "I can't finddd itt!" he huffed, just as Seokjin stepped close, undoing his tie, "Hm, hyung will help. What's wrong?" he asked softly.

Jeongguk stared, his round eyes blinking in frustration and annoyance, which made Seokjin grin a little, "What's wrong, Jeongguk-ah?"

"Mask." Jeongguk huffed. Seokjin chuckled a little, helping him dig around for the mask too. How can one lose such a big origami bear mask? No idea. But after a bit of bickering, they found the mask. Jeongguk grinned, showing it to the camera a little,

"Oooh!" He said, rushing and skipping over, "I got the mask!" he said brightly, "Did you?" Taehyung asked brightly. Before Jeongguk was hurriedly putting it on your head, as you sighed out heavily. Your hand still held a napkin holding onto the handle of the pot you were stirring with the other hand. Whatever was in it was boiling now. Taehyung and Jeongguk now stood in a cluster, Taehyung's chin hooked on your shoulder, cheek nuzzled against your neck while he watched.

It wasn't long before Jimin joined too, his face squished for all of them to appear in the live. You silently blew on a spoonful, taking a sip of whatever mysterious drink you happened to brew. You smacked your lips for a few second to let the taste simmer, the bear mask was ridiculous to eat through.

But this was 'Bearie V-taetae mask 7.1:8' (as named by BTS), a new model..which was basically the same origami bear mask with just a big mouth for you to eat through. Even then, you spilt a little..which you expected, "Ah, bear ma'am. You spilt some on your mouth!~" Jimin said flirtingly while trying to wipe it clean.

You stared at him , letting he maknae line laugh to themselves while they called you 'bear ma'am for the next provoking minutes. Before you were turning back to the pot, taking another spoonful and blowing at it. Taehyung decided to taste it this time, Jeongguk and Jimin's eyes watching the bubbling pot.

"There's lavender in here, is it?" Jimin pointed out while Jeongguk smiled, "It's like baby milk, but spicy." He said. You watched Taehyung who grimaced, his face jerking into a grimace before he fixed it, "...What's this?!" He said, trying to not laugh.

You turned away, stifling your own while Jeongguk and Jimin turned back to you two.

"Is it good-is it..? Is it good?" Jimin asked watching you and Taehyung laugh, "Wait-no!" Tae held up his hand, covering his mouth before walking off, while Jimin tried to get you to feed him a spoonful. You did as told, liking the disgust on Tae's face and wanting it transferred to the third youngest too.

Jimin jerked his head back after tasting it, hurrying to spit it out. "It's Namjoon's medicinal tea!" Jeongguk exclaimed brightly after smelling it. To not feel left out, he also got a spoonful. He grimaced a little, but decided it was fine. "Is it for him?" Jeongguk asked to confirm. You nodded.

This was..Ayurveda or something your grandma told you to make, she'd personally hand measured all ingredients and told you the recipe. Namjoon's insomnia had gotten worse and this was your granny's solution.

You tend to not go against her. She has a fierce aim with her slippers.

You will let Namjoon be tortured by this medicinal 'tea', not even sure if it's tea though.

Silently you shook a bit more of the drink with some jaggery powder to cut out the bitterness and substitute sugar a little bit. While Jeongguk and Jimin piled on your side, Taehyung's chin hooked on your shoulder, his face hidden by Jimin's shaggy hair as they silently kept whispering,

"..Is it from the drain? Did you just pretend to cook it?", "..Wahh, it's so bitter. Bitter melon is sugar compared to this." Jimin whispering, laughing silently as Jeongguk nodded with his smile, eyes squeezed shut tightly to calm his stifling laugh.

"Hyung will get better with this, though." Taehyung added as jeongguk nodded. Jimin gently held up a finger, "Wait-so—", "We can add sugar in it?" One asked to which you nodded, "Listen! Listenn!" Jimin interjected before smiling, "We shall all pour ourselves a cup so Namjoon-hyung won't be alone in this, hm?"

"You just want us to go in a coma." Jeongguk whispered, Taehyung gently hit his shoulder, chuckling, "Yah, he's your elder. We can handle coma for hyung." Before he pulled your bear-faced figure against him tightly.

And then there was 'The Hot Ones', which the boys attended and had practically threatened HYBE to delay their album if you weren't to attend their activities. So you also happened to attend the interview.

Sean Evans was extremely kind with his greetings to all of you and especially accommodating for you. He had gently cut down his team to have only the most essential people around in less numbers for you to be openly around the boys.

Since you were practically inseparable from them.

Sean Evans smiled, sitting as the boys fixed their positions. The crew putting down ten wings per person for them to try. Bottles of milk and a cooler box with ice-cream sat beside you. The crew was bubbly and it was bright while they were fixing the camera and lights.

"I love that top." One of the girls said brightly to you, you nodded back, fixing the bear mask which had become more or less priority to carry around now. You responded with a muffled, "Thanks, your hair is to DIE for!!"

"You can speak through it?" Another asked, gently fixing the folded and rounded ears of the bear mask. "It's hollow under this, aside from some cushioning." You responded again. "Ah." the girls nodded in understanding.

A bit of bright chattering and compliments later, the cameras were preparing to roll as Jimin motioned to you to silently ask 'you comfy?'. You gave him a thumbs up, just as the crew began—

"1, 2...3!"

Sean cleared his throat, before immediately began when given the light, "Hey, what's going on everybody? For 'First We Feast', I'm Sean Evans and you're watching 'Hot Ones'. It's the show with hot questions and even Hotter Wings. And today we're joined by BTS!" He motioned around the table.

The members all smiled or nodded politely, "They're defining Global Force and Pop Music, the first group since the Beatles." Sean explained with professionalism in his voice, "They have three number one albums in a single year, and at long last, the return is finally here with their new album, Arirang"

You silently picked at your nails, listening to him rule out his introduction cleanly and precisely, "Along with the new single swim and an 82 date World Tour to follow. We're thrilled to have you all in the biggest table this studio has ever seen. BTS, welcome to the show."

RM began speaking first, his eyes covered by shades. His demeanor cool, collected and calm compared to how just this morning he'd end up coming to your room to sleep because he was too 'lonely' in his own. Of-course you let him in your room, but still—

"Hey, we are—" he said as all the members said in unison, "BTS!" and immediately, nearly 5 out of the 7 of them leaned to sniff at the wings.

"And not just them, we have a new participant behind the cameras as well," Sean motioned to you with a smile. You waved quickly just as the camera panned to you as blinding speed,

"We have...?" Sean motioned with a confused but warm grin, wondering how to address you. You were going to write it down, but the members beat you to it with responses and bright repeatitions of—"Bear ma'am!", "Ms. Tata Bearie!!", "Bear Ms."

Sean chuckled a little, "Adorable name. Is it your government name, ma'am?" he asked teasingly, tilting his hand. You snorted under your breath, stuck between shaking and nodding your head with a hand motioned which said 'somewhat'. According to ARMY, your 'true government' name was 'Ms Mama bearie Bangtan Tata ma'am.'

But you weren't going to admit that.

"Oh..Is that only the half name?" Sean asked, Jeongguk brightly spoke up, "Ms Tata Bearie ma'am, that's-That's the name ARMY calls!" he said as the members chuckle.

"Well, we welcome you to our studio as well, Ms Bearie." Sean smiled as the members clapped and let out a little whoop, before the camera turned back to the members to let you get privacy, "This is a big selection of wings, 80 wings on the table. Let's see how many will come off!"

Sean began asking them a few questions right off the bat about the album and how they believed Arirang would be acknowledged by not just ARMY but music lovers as a whole ("ARMYs will love it!!"). Followed by who'd the members think would handle the spice well—

"Jimin and Jeongguk would be the ones handling this well," Yoongi spoke in Korean as others nodded, "You seem happy we're going to be hurt." Taehyung pointed at you with a pout.

You nodded with a sly look, as sly as it could get with the mask anyway. "You can remove the mask, it's fine." One of the crew members assured, "Thanks. I'm boiling in here." You mumbled, removing the mask gently, holding it on your lap. A few small, theatrical gasps from the crew who sat beside you before tiny clapping made the scene more welcoming as the interview began.

Sean and the members chuckled, silently clapping like it was the biggest shock. You smiled, quickly thanking the crew with a bow, but the studio had promised your face wouldn't be recorded and your voice would either be muted or lowered.

The interview began quite politely and nicely. Namjoon hummed as they all ate the first wing with bright hums and grins, "It's good!" Hoseok said, trying to coax you to try the wing. "아니, 괜찮아 [no, I'm fine]," you said firmly, staring at him with distrust. Hoseok smirked, extending it even more to you, even though you were around six or so feet apart,

"..I'm not eating that."

And as if to throw you under the bus too— "Ms. Bearie can also handle spice a lot!" Taehyung pointed at you as RM looked at the second youngest,

"Oh yeah. They have an insane spice tolerance. Like insane–" Namjoon pointed at you. You striked a peace sign over your mask's eyes, "Really?" Sean asked, "Well then, we'll let you in on the fun too. A few bites of wings there and there so we can judge."

You groaned, crawling up before walking to the table and leaning over. Your back facing the camera as Hoseok held a hand under your mouth and his hand while you took a big bite of his first wing, "Hm–"

"It's sweet, 네 [yes?]" Taehyung asked accusingly, "It's not spicy." Jeongguk pouted while Tae glared at him for a second. You chewed, but nodded, "It's good, right?–See!" Hoseok said, wiping your mouth as you sat back in the tiny chair they provided you.

You handled your spice well and you lived up to the hype created by the members of your spice tolerance. You handled it pretty gracefully. Sean had ended up sharing one of his wings with you too.

Jeongguk gently tore a piece of his fourth wing to feed you, "So..While we get an insight into an artist's outlook on the creative processes." Sean said, "Is it alright if we ask about your outlook on their process as someone who's—I'm guessing—not from the music industry?"

You paused, chewing at the sudden question while covering your mouth. You sat beside the camera, your tiny foldable chair and your bear mask on your lap, "Well..it's intimidating," you said simply. The members stared at you curiously, like you practically hung stars.

"It's intimidating but extremely impressive with how precise, how concise and creative an artist makes his song. While, despite the 'fun' while making it. It is no different from a job which uses a lot of calculations." You responded.

"An artist' work, especially one of a music artist like the boys." You motioned to the members, all of whim visibly shifted and perked up. Sean nodded, "It's equally complex with how they create it. Which pitch they need, the vocal range, the music, which sound fits..the genre. All of it."

"That's a good insight from —i'm guessing—someone who isn't at all a part of the music industry aside from as a listener?" Sean asked. You nodded, "mhm. The most I've ever done is sometimes provide a vocal or specific sound." You said. Sean nodded, while everyone tried to reel in the spice.

"Do we really intimidate you?" Jeongguk asked in Korean, round eyes concerned, "We're sorry. I didn't know you felt intimidated by us," Taehyung added. Jimin nodded while Yoongi gently looked at you with worry too.

"Not like that. It's intimidating like you feel inexperienced in a new space," you explained gently, shaking your head while Sean silently continued to listen.

"I guess, we can understand. I saw a bit of the documentary, they all looked so intimidating while making the music." Sean replied, chuckling with you. Yoongi hummed, "Just stay with us in our studio, you won't feel so intimidated if you also know about it all." He told you.

Like your discomfort was the biggest thorn in their side,

Like your discomfort was uncomfy for even them to witness or experience. As long as you're happy and comfortable in life, they'd be happy to listen to you or be beside you.

And even then, ARMY couldn't tell how to tell who's your actual boyfriend or who's just a very good friend.

Jeongguk sat silently, stretching his legs in the club room they had reserved for a night to celebrate the release of their album, which would be occuring in a matter of hours, actually.

Arirang was already highly pre-booked, photoshoots done and their days were half-spent exercising, practicing or shooting for something. And this was one of the last days in LA, you'd promised you'd joined and you kept your promises!

You sat dresses as to what the boys called 'A 30s, Shanghai mafia boss woman' look. You take it as a compliment. But gods is it hard to not hit them for their behavior somedays. Stockings and high-heels big enough to crush a boy's skull. Yoongi clearly loved those.

Like Taehyung gently-but so-offensively burying his hands in your hair and curls you'd spent an entire day styling just for this. His large palms gently carded through your hair, pulling the perfect curls apart in front of your eyes, crushing your spirit while Jimin laughed.

"You're gonna get beaten, stop." Hoseok said with a hum, pouring a bit more whiskey in your cup while you glared at Tae, who sheepishly laughed and pulled his hands away while Hoseok, Jeongguk and Jimin laughed. Yoongi gently reached over to fix your hair a bit.

"I'm sorry, should I run to get you something for your hair?" Taehyung asked gently, holding your hand, kissing the back of it incessantly. Like it was no big deal to do something so tedious for such a simple problem.

Some expensive fur coat Yoongi had bought you a while back for the promotion in your job hung loosely over you like the only layer keeping you safe from their hungry jaws.

You silently slid against the wall and arm-rest of the couch in a relaxing manner, the dark and dimmed lights and the music thumping was just making the sight more alluring. Your thigh hooked on the side, simple black heel dangling brightly with a thin anklet.

Black stockings enveloping and squeezing the plump flesh perfectly. Almost enough to look edible.

None of the members said anything, but the way they just stared made it clear..

You were too pretty for your own good tonight.

Especially when Jeongguk silently removed his jacket to cover his lap subtly. Yeah..the other members may have not noticed it, but you surely did.

"Nervous?" You cooed at the maknae, who nervously blinked. His hyungs watching with almost keen and animalistic interest. Jeongguk groaned silently when you stroked his cheek,

"Who wouldn't be when someone so pretty is so close to them?" He said. Namjoon silently fixed his sunglasses, the top few buttons undone to show off his chests, now littered with a few lipstick marks from an earlier endeavor.

You smiled, twirling as Taehyung gently pulled on a curl, watching it spring back in shape with an amused chuckle. "How long did it take you to get ready tonight?" His hands rubbing your waist and hip.

Seokjin just mindlessly trying to not ogle you and your thighs, while Yoongi is no better. Jimin's palms itching to pull you back, right into his lap. "We're huge fans of you." Hoseok hums, tilting his head with a playful grin.

"So pretty!" Jeongguk smiled brightly but shyly, leaning back and holding the pillow tighter on his own lap, groaning lowly.

It is thrilling and exhilarating having some of the strongest, most beloved, popular men under your fingers. "Next time, wear the top I bought you." Jimin whispered, voice shaky and cracking. But all the same, he leaned close when you pressed a kiss to his right cheek,

"Mhm?" You whispered, immediately as he sat back heavily as if his knees buckled.

The air around you drink you in like you were oxygen itself in this dim yet neon and sharply lit lighted club room. Personally reserved and smell hazy. The atmosphere only thickens when you stand up, standing in the middle and gently placing a hand on Yoongi's bare neck. A little and dulled bite-mark decorating it.

His eyes seem to devour your body, his hands rubbing the back of your thighs, squeezing occasionally.

"Which dress' do you all like the best?" you asked, wondering what to wear specially next just for the seven boys who stare at you like you're heaven or some goddess.

"The black one we gifted you after the reunion." Taehyung and Jeongguk said in unison, "By a fucking landslide.." Hoseok ends.

"It's the tight latex, isn't it?"

"It's you too, baby." Namjoon ends, grabbing your wrist and placing it on his collar where you stroked and gently graze your nails, making him groan, "Fucking step on us or something, baby." He adds, desperation in his voice.

Seokjin's hand gently rubbed your ribs, teasingly rubbing your under-breast. His thumb swiping on the flesh gently, daringly. It provoked the others to get more daring just as their eldest.

Your hips swayed gently when you were pulled back to sit on a member—Hoseok's lap. His hands squeezed your hips, while Jimin scoffed. Yoongi clicked his tongue, which made Hoseok smirk, "You're too late. You should've been smarter." Hoseok said to his slightly disgruntled members.

You giggled, leaning back against his chest, your back against his chest while his hands practically groped your thighs and hips, when you gently pulled down your fur coat. Letting your low-cut top be your adornment, your cleavage pretty much the reason there was almost an audible groan from just about all seven of them.

Jeongguk even ends up whimpering a little, "Don't tell me you're gonna cry." You teased, gently extending your glass of whiskey upto his lips. Gently tilting his head back while you poured the alcohol in his mouth, making him swallow the bitter liquid with a small whimper.

The burn ran through his throat while the boys sighed out, shifting closer while Hoseok gently kissed and trailed licks down your neck, "We might, actually.."

"You're just into ruining men, isn't that it?" Yoongi remarked, sliding down onto his knees till he practically sat infront of you, on his knees, gently spreading your legs to stand between your thighs,

"We might as well get our eyes cut out if you don't want to see us cry." Taehyung added softly. "Anything for you," Seokjin whispers, shifting on the other side.

Eyes salivating over you with cloyingly affection and lust, but arms which held you were more than just gentle and fond. You almost couldn't help how you tugged Yoongi ahead by hooking your thigh over his shoulder, your foot digging in his back to push him ahead. Until his cheek stayed smushed against your upper thigh on your skirt.

"Come on, just us..?" Namjoon whispered, standing up and removing his tie, "Yeah, we deserve rewards too. We worked so hard on the album!" Jeongguk mumbled, almost shyly.

"...Yeah. We even wrote you a song!" Hoseok grinned, "Please, you're so pretty." Jimin whispered. Jeongguk still stayed, wiping his mouth. But eyes trailed hungry.

© rxliia 2026 I do not give permission to modify, translate, copy or repost ANY of my works. Reblogs are very much welcome!

It had been a bit of late July-August or something in 2025. BTS had recently returned from enlisting, the seven members were busy yet now PROPER content and messages were coming from members. A normal day, when a similar notification had hit every ARMYs screen or device they had with Weverse on it. BTS and Hybe Management had sent an important yet weirdly..vague announcement.

Most read it through and through and never got the correct point. Perhaps it was intentionally worded it that way or perhaps it was just a misunderstanding HYBE didn't fix. But BTS—or rather, one of it's members— were finally dating.

Or...something.

Hello. This is BIGHIT MUSIC. We would like to inform our fans that one of our dear members would like to reveal someone special to them in their life. Our member would like ARMY to be supportive of their endeavors and adventures and also understand their lover's place and importance in their life. The artist shall continue to work as hard as ever and still attend all activities regarding BTS and only hopes for open-mindedness from our fans with their flourishing new chapter in their life. Thank you.

The message was accompanied with a textbook definition of soft-launch with warm, intimate lighting. A gentle hug and kiss by the said member towards an anonymous figure. It practically shook the entire billion number populace of the fandom to the core. Members just got together and became seven after finishing their mandatory military service.

And this is the first news that comes out? ARMYs were left gagged in their own spots, staring at the picture. Trying to decipher not just the person in the photo, but also the meaning of life.

Except..ARMY, for the life of them, could not figure out which member it was. They could've understood meaning of life and death before guessing who the damn member was.

To them, it seemed as though the message was not naming said member as to give them their privacy in their own way and expected ARMY to figure out who the member was from the photo on their own. Yet there was no clue or figure to give them the space to find out who it was.

The hair colour was black and length was medium, body covered in a hoodie and face not shown..There weren't any noticeable moles like Taehyung's elephant arm moles or tattoos like Jeongguk's for them to even figure out or rule out.

So, it was weirdly criptic how the message did not name said 'member' who was dating.

But whoever member was dating the person. They become a proper constant since that announcement. BIGHIT music now publicly releasing clips and behind the scenes footages of the said lover in the background.

Clips edited the person same way they did with BTS members except a sticker would be covering them. But a lot of clips dating back to even 2016!

Such as the anonymous person sitting in the trunk of the company car in their raincoat while the music video for 'Save Me' was being recorded in absolutely miserable weather.

The setting was weirdly gentle.

With the anonymous lover—aka you—sitting with your feet folded underneath you while you sat facing Taehyung. Your palms rubbed Taehyung's palms in yours to warm them while he shivered. Yoongi sitting behind you, his mint hair the limelight of the ARMY's attention alongside the translated subtitle:

[And here is the parent of the seven, bullet-proof troops. Ms. Brown skin glory queen on a grey sky.]

Hm.. Funny.

This anonymous lover was clearly close with the members, each one of them, in-fact. Yoongi was silently picking at your hair, enjoying the touch of it. Your warmer, brown skin a deep contrast to Taehyung's paler one. The screenshot went viral within record time. Your hands wrapped around his, fingers laced from a half low-quality video.

Not just that, the entire thing was viral. But it didn't stop, not when there were multiple videos of the anonymous lover (you).

A Bangtan-Bomb from 2017.

2Seok stood infront of you while he was dancing to DNA. You sat with your knees pulled to your chest, your hoodie was one belonging to Namjoon. Seokjin was silently learning the choreo—a part of it, atleast—because he had missed it due to a regular dentist appointment. Funny.

You watched silently as Hoseok kept fixing Seokjin's position, chewing bubblegum and likely humming or singing out-loud to the song since your every time you sang, the was a low hum over to mute your voice or otherwise you didn't talk a lot.

"Yah, hyung! How long will we stay on this step, hurry up!" Hoseok huffed, stomping his foot. His glare was no joke while he again fixed Seokjin's position. Seokjin sighed softly, "Yeah-yeah..whatever," he mumbled. Mouthing something to you to which your sticker covered face giggled.

Namjoon's hoodie's hood pulled upto cover your hair, braided back tightly to stop it from getting tangled. Hoseok watched, counting loudly while he did the same step infront of the mirror infront of Seokjin, the 'correct' one while you and Seokjin watched.

Suddenly, you silently nudged in. And I say silently because your voice muted entirely.

But the crew had edited in subtitles for you, {"It's actually from the left."} You told Hoseok. He paused, turning to you, "Really..? Aish–sorry," Before he practiced the actually correct motions taught by the choreographer.

"5. 6. 7..8!" You started the music when Hoseok motioned to you, silently vibing on your own. When Seokjin messed up, CATASTROPHICALLY. He stood frozen, but you and Seokjin burst into laughter.

Which was fortunately (for some ARMYs and members themselves who rewatched those clips for fun) not muted, only the voice was lowered. Seokjin stepped to the side, while Hoseok stood glaring and covering his face with his hands. Seokjin grinned to you, gently stroking your cheek before turning to face Hoseok,

"Hobi-ah..Listen, sorry," he hummed. Hobi sighed, showing him a grin before the clip ended.

World is surprised you were not someone from Korea, which everyone assumed was the safest choice for BTS to choose as their lover. But asides from it, you clearly felt comfortable enough to give your own opinion into dancing infront of a man such as Hoseok, who was one of the best dancers alive.

Those were some big metaphorical balls you had.

Run BTS EP. 97: The Pajama Party.

The clips with you were not added in the final cut, obviously. But the clips released were rather entertaining. The members, after getting their tiny craft papers were starting to choose one. Jimin sat, but the Maknae line were staring at you.

The camera shifted a total 90 degrees to show you, in your digital sticker covered glory, sitting lazily on a chair beside the other staff members. A female member hanging off you and showing you something, the camera pointed straight at you.

[The owner of the Bangtan pets is on Instagram for her daily attention intake.]

Just as—

"Yah! Make her join us too!" Jeongguk pointed at you, pouting. Yoongi snorted, while Jimin and Taehyung joined in, "Yeah, make her join our pajama party!"

"You'd look nice!" Jimin coaxed. You silently waved your hands and shook your head. But Yoongi gently called, "Yah, c'mere." he motioned, motioning his fingers for you to come closer.

You hurried over as the staff grinned, one hurriedly running back to look for some nightclothes for you to choose from. You sat outside the camera frame as the director spoke,

"You have to, firstly, make paper airplanes!" The director said brightly. Seokjin leaned to grab a few papers from Jeongguk who was having a busy time looking for his ideal colour and passed one to you,

"Thank you." You mumbled, pausing until the director motioned, "Ready, go!" As everyone quickly began folding— "I want gold. Wait, what is this..? Hey–oh, ah..Silver," Jeongguk quickly flipped. [Flip, flip.]

before capturing the silver sheened paper and began folding.

You weren't sure how to, you hadn't made a paper airplane in a few years, so you overlooked Yoongi's, folding the same way he was.

"When you're done, hold the plane above your head–" the staff member didn't get to finish before Jin quickly held up his red plane, "Hai!"

"Okay, starting with Jin.." just as Yoongi held up his own, "Yoongi second." You counted silently.

You held up yours right after Taehyung did his. The staff gently put down three options infront of you. A babydoll nightgown which looked like it should be given back to 1940s. Adorable.

A black and pink co set with BT21 motifs and one was a modern hanbok style top and shorts. You watched as Seokjin stood on his knees, "I want the unicorn one."

"The unicorn one..? Why?!" Hoseok grimaced silently, but Jjan only landed his plane right on the onesie.

You got to go after Tae and you stood a few feet back. Just to annoy you, Jeongguk hurriedly got up, making you close your eyes and he made you turn before stopping you 'straight'. As in where the night-suits sat, you randomly threw one.

Jeongguk snorted when you supposed your airplane landed, "Nice one!" He lifted your hand and high-fived it before patting off to sit down and choose his own nightgown. You opened your eyes, landing on the 1940s style babydoll, you groaned. Mosquitoes were going to LOVE you..You also needed lotion to survive the night.

By the time you returned, you sure as hell weren't receiving the penalty. That's all for BTS.

Not just that, you were forced into the games too. Your thighs were red by the 'BTS' Animal Kingdom', you got a gentle mock kick by Seokjin to your butt when you made a different action than them during the second game.

You also had to do an ASMR. But those clips are for another day.

In the Soop. Season 1, Ep.. Something?

You stood on the side, silently fixing the sink-tap. Jimin and tae sat beside you diligently, while Taehyung held the phone light straight. Jimin was keenly watching, occasionally both of them bantering until you stopped them with a: 'YAH! Point the light straight!' like a stereotypical dad.

Taehyung snorted when you yelled the fifth time and threatened to leave his sink broken if he didn't hold the phone's torch light properly, "M'sorry, sorry. I'll save you a bigger portion of lunch today." He promises, a hand of noble honesty and promise to his chest. Jimin snorts, head buckling as he pulls his knees to his chest, "As if Jeongguk would leave any to save."

"He's growing–!" Taehyung defends, but still chuckles. You groaned, gently kicking him and he silently pointed it straight, "Right, we'll be quiet. Sorry."

Jimin gently took a hold of your foot, moving to sit while crossing his legs. He put your foot gently on top of his leg, stroking your ankle while watching you keenly, "Our savior, we wouldn't be able to bathe if you didn't have the skills of an appa."

"You bathe in the sink?"

BTS In the Soop. Season 2, Ep. 4

It was pretty late at night, you were silently braiding Yoongi's hair due to boredom. Namjoon was sleeping soundly with his head on your lap but his back was facing wherever the cameras were and his face was hidden. With his face shoved in your tummy, but he clearly sleeping. Jimin and J-hope were playing on the TV.

Your fingers pulled another section apart, silently braiding it delicately with his hair having overgrown and pale blonde. Your fingers tugged silently, J-hope hummed silently, absent-mindedly tapping on the controller, "They've really outdone themselves, it's so nice."

"About the house, 네 [Yes]?" Jimin quickly answered back, before wincing a bit simultaneously as Hobi laughed, when Jimin's character on the video game lost points. Yoongi chuckled, "You're clicking too hard. Use the combo, yah!" he motioned to the TV.

Hobi hummed, pausing while they were restarting the game. His controller in his lap while he moved to pour himself some water, a faint barking was heard in the back of the clip. "Yah, Jeongguk-ah is playing out so late with Bam?" Yoongi asked softly, cheek squished against your shin while you separated another strand on his hair.

Silently and slowly braiding it, your fingers skillfully fast. You nodded gently, your damp curls bouncing lightly, "He wanted to workout and get some play-time in."

"Ah, makes sense."

"It's good that he's so dedicated," Jimin remarked gently while now opting to choose different power cards with his controller. "Mhm!" Hoseok nodded. Namjoon grumbled a little in his sleep when you bent over to pour yourself some water, his face slightly heating due to the cloth of your hoodie and body warmth.

You straightened back up, silently carding back the leader's hair and fixing his position lightly. "Sorry," you said, sipping before handing the rest of the glass to Yoongi for him to finish.

Off-handedly the conversation turned to the visuals of the game, "It's so nice. The pixels make the food in the game so clean and good." Jimin pointed out, "It's making me hungry, huh!" He paused before laughing brightly, leaning against Hoseok, who responded with— "No kidding."

"I know. But the game's starting, you two." You pointed out. With them fawning over the visuals and pixels, they almost ignored the game and lost before they got to play. Jimin and Hoseok got to play again and Yoongi moved off to the kitchen. You silently leaned back, watching Jimin and Hobi play.

Eyes scanning the brightly coloured pixels on the screen while both kept clicking the buttons on the controller. Warmth from Namjoon's face nice against your tummy and sounds of something sizzling from the kitchen. The buzzing so warmth, your eyes were attempting to shut down on their own and head falling back.

The clip's edited version just showed your stickered figure's head lolling back and forth a little so the sticker kept vibing and moving back and forth. [To sleep or not to Sleep? That is the Bangtan ma'am's question.]

Until Yoongi came out, holding a medium sized pot and putting it down. Three soft-boiled eggs in a tiny plate. In the pot was some green onion, imitation crab, shredded tuna, a little bit of sausages and tteokbokki or whatever left in the fridge mixed and cooked with Jjapaguri to make some small amount of Budae Jiggae for you, Jimin and Hoseok.

[Master Chef Mr. Min Suga is also a mind-reader and fulfills wishes!]

"Go to sleep full." Yoongi mumbled, pushing back your hair while also straightening you up to keep you awake. The braids now half undone in his hair and he only kept pulling them apart.

"Thanks, hyung.", "Thanks!"

"Mmm." You grumbled, shaking your head and still attempting to doze off. Hoseok silently paused the game, changing it to some movie and while it was starting. Hoseok cracked the eggs for all three of you, before wordlessly extending an egg to you. You silently opened your mouth, biting down and sitting up.

"Eat it from this side, I put the noddles in earlier." Yoongi motioned, using chopsticks to get some and extending it to you. "Woah, hyung. You really just keep on getting better!" Jimin remarks, quickly pulling his chair closer to the table while Hoseok fed him a rice-cake.

No choice in sleeping without some quick later second-dinner.

This was never even mentioning the other things. Lives, interviews, Run BTS!', MVs and others. The new lover had become quite a prominent figure and of-course ARMY was on it like bees on a honey. Wayy too surprised and way too confused, but still attempting to be supportive.

BTS seemed to care less. Eventually the constant sticker was replaced with a beautifully done origami bear mask made by Jeongguk.. It was a cure to bring never-ending laughter among the members to see you just do random shit with it on your face just so the editors would not have to place a sticker on your face constantly in every clip and everything else just so your face wouldn't be revealed.

"It's so nice, Jeongguk make it?" Seokjin asked while he bent over the grill, eating a piece silently while also turning over other pieces for the other members. You nodded, your mask bobbing while the six members laughed. Jimin smiled brightly, clapping his hands—"Cute!", "so cutee!" Tae remarked with his bright, boxy smile. Quickly standing up and moving his leg up and above his stool, V was bouncing and running over excitedly to you.

Yoongi was silently cutting the meat while J-hope was making the sauce, smiling brightly as he grabbed the phone to click pictures. Which is tradition

He gently held the bear mask, moving it around and then eventually spinning it on your head, "Can I remove it?" he asked. You gently removed it, knowing they could edit one clip atleast while Taehyung scanned it happily, Jimin and Hoseok also hurried over to watch it. Hobi quickly twirled it and tossed it in his arms like a basket ball.

"Jeongguk did good work on this!" He said thoughtfully and passed it to Namjoon who scanned it quickly before handing it over. You fit it back on your head, striked a pose and smile. "I like it!" you said brightly yourself. "It's cute," Seokjin nodded. "Come eat." Yoongi called, firmly but fondly.

You waddled over quickly, watching over his shoulder while Jin cut off a piece of the chicken for you. Picking it up using his chopsticks, he lifted it up and slightly over his shoulder while you quickly lifted the bear mask, "Thank you for the food," you whispered.

Quickly nipping it off with your teeth before tilting your head back and pulled the mask down, eating the chicken. Immediately you huffed and began silently clenched and unclenched your hands since the chicken was too hot. You grumbled, wincing and , "Hot-..hahfsh—hott!"

Namjoon handed you his can of coke while he watched your bear-haded self 'hafsha-hafsha' your way through hot food. Jin turned his head over his shoulder to look at you, now quietly chewing with your head lowered, "Is it too hot? 미안해 [sorry.]" Yoongi hummed softly. Namjoon silently chewed, "Be careful."

Taehyung laughed while watching you, "Everything they do is cute because of the mask." He remarked, pulling out his phone this time to click a picture or two again.

With the commotion, it drew out Jeongguk. Walking over, "What're you eating?" he asked as Jimin quickly cut a part and blew on it while handing it to Jeongguk. "Jeongguk-ah, you made the mask?" Hoseok asked. Jeongguk turned to you, mouth stuffed while he chewed and his brows furrowed in anger of the good food. You stood straight before striking a pose, immediately stroking him to cover his mouth while he laughed and tried to not choke on the meat.

He nodded, stifling his laugh and eyes screwed shut to gathering his bearings, "Good work, ah!" Namjoon patted Jeongguk's back. "But what's the need?" Jimin asked, curiously.

"ARMY kept asking to see their face." Taehyung informed. Seokjin tilted his head back, throwing till he could see you upside down, "You still don't want to show your face?"

You shook your head to responde. Namjoon chewed before gently trying to fish out the tiny bone he caught while speaking, "And editing every clip took a lot of time." Yoongi paused, brushing more sauce on each piece of chicken while making space for you beside him. You didn't sit, still a bit busy scanning the ingredients, "It can be dangerous too."

"Right–"

You gently banged on the table before motioning to something with your hands and body since you didn't want to make the editors work to constantly mute you too. None of them understood but all seven of them nodded, "Good thinking", "Awesome thoughts, Jagiya.", "That's such a good point.", "Hm."

You again leaned over the nearest member's shoulder, this time Jeongguk very carefully grabbed the longest, but thinnest piece he could get which wasn't a big piece actually. Gently pushing it through the miniscule cut out he mae over the origami snout of the mask.

You quickly bit it off, compelling him to pull the chopsticks back while laughing and the members began laughing. With Jeongguk's head thrown back against Jimin who smiled, "Smart."

Yoongi smiled, crossing his arms and leaning back while he poured you a glass of soju, "You'll be joining more often?"

"Mhm."

The seven members smiled brightly. Glad they had no need to answer and can act oblivious to how many questions there were by ARMY as to who you were dating. They can just enjoy the confusion they create while they themselves figure out who gets to date you publicly.

Is this like a situation where they love the woman so much, they're sharing her? Is that why the message was so cryptic?! Damn.. Girlie pulled all the strings.

Respect to the girl for hustle. But who is she even DATING!?

How does one gain this much rizz even with a bear sticker on their face and their voice never heard?! aahshdgufshgudkgifeai

Are we sure she's the lover and BTS is NOT the girlfriend?

I have no idea who she is dating. But if she is dating someone, the way she acts with the other members is inappropriate.

That's called a fandom cleanse. Fandom cleanse by a fem-dom.. Bad joke. Sorry..

Whichever BTS member's lover they are, her parents need to be thanked for not sleeping that night. Because that is the goddess of my dreams!

© rxliia 2026 I do not give permission to modify, translate, copy or repost ANY of my works. Reblogs are very much welcome!

the late afternoon sun streamed through the curtains.

you stood in the kitchen, barefoot, dressed in one of jungkook's oversized black t-shirts.

it hung loosely on your petite frame, carrying the lingering scent of his cologne—a comforting reminder of your husband.

as you busied yourself preparing his favorite dinner.

your hands moved with quiet confidence, slicing vegetables. the kitchen was a place where you poured your heart into every dish you made for jungkook.

tonight, you wanted everything to be just right.

earlier when he’d called you during his lunch break, his voice had been different, weary—a stark difference from his usual warmth.

he hadn’t said much, but you knew him enough to know that he had a rough day at work.

as his wife, you always wanted to create a warm home for him, a place where he could leave the world's burden behind and just focus on you.

be himself.

you hummed a small tune to yourself, focusing.

cooking for jungkook was your way of showing love, an act of devotion that spoke louder than words.

especially when your shyness sometimes held you back from being vocal about your love for him.

as the clock neared the timing of his arrival, you glanced at the front door, heart fluttering, but worry still laced your thoughts.

jungkook would be home soon.

and you wanted to be ready for him.

you smoothed the t-shirt over your thighs, you absolutely loved wearing his clothes—it felt like a piece of him was with you.

all the time.

your hair was pulled into a messy bun, few strands framing your face, and you wore no makeup in your natural state.

exactly the way your husband preferred.

the sound of a car pulling into the driveway soon brought you out of your thoughts. your pulse quickening as you heard the heavy thud of the car door.

you bit your bottom lip before turning quickly.

you turned off the stove, wiped your hands on a towel, and took a deep breath.

wanting to brace yourself for whatever mood jungkook might bring home

the front door soon opened, and there he was—jeon jungkook, stepping inside with his broad frame like a king dressed in a tailored black suit.

his commanding presence filling the room.

you can see that his broad shoulders were strained against his suit, dark hair slightly ruffled as if he’d raked his hands through it in frustration.

a habit of his that you knew by heart.

his jaw was clenched, brows drawn in a frown, his heaviness made your heart clench as he dropped his briefcase by the door and yanked his tie, loosening it with an irritated tug.

seeing him like this—so handsome yet so clearly tired and exhausted made your heart ache.

“hey.” you said, softly.

stepping out of the kitchen, moving towards him. your hands fidgeting together, a nervous habit of yours and you looked at him.

unsure how to reach him when he was in this state.

jungkook didn’t answer right away.

instead, he walked to the living room in a few long strides and sank down onto the couch, head tipping back against the cushions.

he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one with the help of his lighter. he took a deep drag, exhaling, the smoke curling upwards.

the sharp smell of tobacco mixed with the lingering smell of dinner.

and you watched him quietly, heart twisting at how wounded he seemed.

you stood near the kitchen, fingers twisting his t-shirt, watching him smoke in silence.

his gaze fixed somewhere far off, distracted, free hand tapped on his thigh restlessly.

cigarettes were rare for him, something he only turned to when the stress was too heavy for him to handle.

you hated seeing him like this but you also knew he needed a moment before he’d finally let you in.

finally, you got the courage and decided to approach him, steps slow and careful.

“kookie.” you murmured.

using the nickname that always seemed to soften him even on his darkest days.

you stopped in front of the couch, close enough to feel the warmth and anger radiating off him and you looked down at him with wide worried eyes.

“are you okay?”

jungkook's eyes met yours and for a moment the harshness in his face disappeared.

his gaze softened as he took you in—your small frame in his t-shirt, bare legs and flushed cheeks.

he took another drag before stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray on the coffee table.

without a word he reached for you, large hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

you let out a gasp.

he drew you close, body tightly held against his. his arms encircling you, strong and possessive, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply.

you felt his lips brush your skin in a tender kiss that sent a shiver down your spine.

“god baby...” he murmured.

voice rough against your neck, heavy with exhaustion

“you're the only thing that makes this day worth getting through.”

your cheeks warmed at his words and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

using one hand to run your fingers through his dark hair.

“i’m here, kookie.” you whispered, voice trembling with emotion.

“always”

he kissed you, lips claiming yours with a slow, gentle kiss, allowing you to taste him—smoke and something so him.

you melted into him, in the warmth of him.

his hands roamed all over your back, cupping your ass, pressing you closer to him, coaxing a moan out of you, swallowing it with his tongue.

you felt the tension in his body begin to loosen, shoulders easing as he lost himself in you.

when he pulled back, his eyes searched yours.

forehead against yours, warm breath hitting your lips.

“i had a shit day, baby,” he admitted, voice quieter now, less sharp but still heavy.

“work was a fucking mess.”

you cupped his face gently, thumbs brushing his cheeks.

“want to talk about it?” you asked, voice soft and encouraging.

you shifted in his lap, straddling him so you could face him fully, knees sinking into the couch on either side of him.

his hands settled on your thighs, fingers tracing lazy circles in your bare skin.

and you felt your chest warming at the familiar closeness you were receiving from him.

jungkook sighed, head tipping back against the couch, he started at the ceiling.

“the new client we’re dealing with—they’re a nightmare,” he started, voice filled with frustration.

“they keep changing the contract, demanding more work without wanting to pay for it. my team’s been working their asses off for weeks, and today during the presentation, the client boss had the balls to call our work basic, fucking ‘basic,’ baby. after all the late nights and endless work, the bullshit we’ve put up with”

you listened closely, heart aching for him.

jungkook was a senior manager in a company and while he always loved taking challenges, sometimes the relentless demands of his job wore him down.

way too much.

you reached for his tie, fingers working to take it off as he spoke, paying attention to him talking out his feelings while you take care of him.

your touch gentle and soothing.

“that’s not fair,” you said softly, sympathy lacing your voice.

“you work so hard, koo… they don’t appreciate you enough.”

he lets out a bitter chuckle, hands tightening on your thighs as he speaks.

“no kidding. and then, to make it worse, one of my team members screwed up the project during the meeting. i had to jump in and fix it on the spot in front of everyone and the client just sat there smirking like they’d won something.”

you frowned, hands pausing at his tie.

“that’s awful,” you murmured.

“you shouldn’t have to deal with that. you’re always cleaning up other people’s mistakes.”

“you also deserve to be taken care of… who will look after yours, mhmm?” you huffed.

clenching his shirt in your fist like you were trying to prove a point.

jungkook’s eyes softened at your cuteness, looking at you, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“you’re too good to me, you know that?” he said, tenderly

“i come home ranting like this, and you just… listen. you make it all feel lighter.”

your cheek warmed and you look away, suddenly shy under his gaze.

“i just want you to feel okay,” you mumbled, focusing on unbuttoning the top of his shirt.

“you do so much for us, always working tirelessly. i want to take care of you too.”

he smiled, a genuine smile that only you bring out of him, making your breath hitch in happiness.

“you do, sweetheart.” he hummed, hands sliding up your waist, squeezing gently.

“more than you know”

you finished loosening his tie and draped it over the couch arm, lazily, running your hands down his chest, feeling the hard muscles underneath his shirt.

“why don’t you go take a shower?” you suggested, softly.

“it’ll help you relax. i'll warm up the dinner for you meanwhile.”

jungkook's eyes fixed on you for a moment, intense and unreadable and he nodded.

“alright.” he rasped.

“but only because you’re asking so nicely.”

you giggled softly, the sound helping with the heavy mood and tension, you slid off his lap, standing in front of him.

he stood towering over you with his tallness, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

“don’t take too long.” you teased, voice playful.

he smirked, a hint of his usual charm breaking through.

“yes, ma’am.” he quipped, allowing his palm to give your bottom a small quick slap.

you let out a squeak, lips parting in shock and shyness.

you can hear the man laugh deeply, heading towards the bathroom, disappearing down the hallway.

you shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, and you returned to the kitchen.

your heart feeling lighter.

you turned on the stove to reheat the food, rich aroma filling the air again and you started setting the table with care.

arranging plates and needed utensils. you lastly poured two glasses of iced tea.

knowing jungkook loved its cool flavor with dinner.

in the bathroom jungkook shed all his clothing, fabric pooling on the floor. he turned on the shower.

letting the hot water stream down his shoulders, washing away the day’s frustrations.

he closed his eyes, the steam surrounding him.

he thought of you—your soft voice, gentle hands and the way you looked in his t-shirt, so small and perfect.

so his.

the tightness in his chest began to loosen, replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the water.

back in the kitchen, you hummed, plating the food and arranging the meat and vegetables neatly.

when you heard the shower shut off, you glanced toward the hallway, stomach twisting in anticipation.

jungkook emerged a few minutes later, hair damp and messy, now wearing a black t-shirt that clung to his hard muscles and gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips.

he looked more relaxed, jaw still slightly clenched and a faint crease in his brow.

you knew he was still carrying some of the day’s weight.

he walked into the dining area, eyes softening as he took in whatever you placed on the table.

“this looks incredible, love.” he said, voice warm with gratitude.

he pulled out a chair and sat down, gaze flickering to you when you set his plate in front of him.

“you didn’t have to do all this.”

you blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“i wanted to,” you said, softly, “you deserve it.”

he never liked whenever you overworked yourself, he even insisted at times on doing the house chores, not wanting you to work too much, but you never listened.

always wanting to take care of him.

he reached for your hand, tugging you close until you stood between his legs.

“sit with me,” he said, voice firm but gentle.

“you’re eating too.”

you nodded, a bashful, shy smile on your lips, grabbed your plate, sitting across him.

jungkook waited until you took your first bite before starting.

a habit of his that felt natural to you now.

he would always do this, never wanting to do anything first without you starting it before him.

he watched you, eyes filling with a mix of protectiveness and affection.

“good girl.” he muttered.

and you felt a familiar warmth pooling between your legs from his praise.

dinner was quiet at first.

only the sounds of clatter from plates and jungkook's occasional hum of approval.

the meat was tender and flavorful and you smiled to yourself when he reached for seconds.

his appetite felt like a silent compliment to your efforts.

you knew he loved eating so you always made sure to make a sufficient amount of food, especially his favorites.

“this is perfect, baby,” he said between bites, eyes meeting yours.

“you always know how to make me feel better.”

your heart swelled and you looked down, focusing on your own plate.

“i’m glad you like it, koo,” you said quietly, with a smile.

he chuckled, reaching across the table to tilt your chin up with one finger.

“don’t hide from me,” he teased, thumb brushing your lower lip.

“you know i don’t like it.”

“i want to see that pretty face of yours.”

you scoffed, blushing fiercely, a grin appearing on your face with no restraint.

“kookie,” you whined, embarrassed by his attention, he grins, a deep rumble escaping his mouth.

the conversation flowed easily between you two after that, a mix of light teasing and deeper moments.

jungkook talked about his new project that he and his team were starting, his voice high with excitement while he was described the parts he was most anticipating.

you listened quietly, asking questions and always offering quiet encouragement.

always giving him your full attention.

“you’re so good at what you do,” you said at one point, voice sure.

“i'm so proud of you, kookie.”

he paused, fork hovering over his plate, looking at you with an intensity that stole your breath.

“you’ve no idea how much that means,” he breathes, voice serious.

“coming home to you, hearing you say that… it’s everything.”

your chest heaved and you looked away, overwhelmed by his presence. he reached for your hand, squeezing it gently.

as if he never wants to let you go.

when dinner was done, you started clearing the table together.

jungkook insisted on helping you despite your protests.

“you cooked, i clean.” he said firmly, leaving no space for arguments.

his hands brushed yours, taking the plates to the sink. you stood side by side washing and drying the dishes in comfortable silence.

the simple act so full of love.

grounding you both.

later you both sat on the couch together, jungkook's arm draped over your shoulder, a movie playing on the television.

you knew he wasn't paying attention in it at all.

you still felt the tension in his frame, jaw still clenching, body tight and you knew his earlier ease had soon turned into unease.

you glanced up at him from his chest, feeling sad at the fact that you couldn’t help his silent struggle.

“koo…” you crooned, turning to face him.

“you’re still tense. is there anything i can do?”

wanting to help him more than anything.

he looked at you, eyes unreadable, an emotion you couldn’t quite read.

“just keep being you,” he said, gruffly.

“that’s more than enough.”

you nodded, heart racing and leaned up, hand pressing on his chest, and kissed him, gentle and reassuring.

trying to comfort him through actions.

the kiss deepened, his tongue exploring your mouth and hands slid under your shirt—his hand caressing your bare stomach, causing you to let out a shaky whimper.

“let’s go to bed.” he grunts against your lips, voice thickening with need.

you let him lead you to the bedroom, small hand warm in his big, calloused ones.

the bedroom was dimly lit from the bedside lamp and you climbed onto the bed, the fabric riding up to reveal that you wore nothing beneath.

jungkook's nostrils flared when he noticed it, gaze lingering on your soft, bare thighs.

he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for another cigarette, lighting it. he took a slow drag eyes never leaving you, and you felt a flush creep up your neck at his predatory stare.

you watched as he exhaled, you knew he was thinking of ways to make you forget your name.

he always did that… admire his meal.

before devouring it fully.

the sight of him smoking unraveled you in ways you couldn’t explain.

“you’re so damn beautiful,” he said roughly, the cigarette lazily dangling between his fingers.

“sitting there in my shirt, looking like that”

you flushed, tugging at the hem of the t-shirt, his words sending a thrill through you.

he soon stubbed out the cigarette, reaching for you, pulling you into his lap with a hard yank.

his manhandling knocked the breath off your chest.

he kissed you deeply, tongue exploring everywhere in your mouth as the taste of tobacco and your strawberry lip balm mixed together.

something so familiar and lewd.

you mewled softly in his mouth, gripping his hair until he groaned in return.

his hand slid under the t-shirt, calloused fingers grazing your lower back before cupping your bare ass, squeezing firmly.

fingers barely touching your bare cunt, you gasp out on his ear, panting.

the sensation was like a jolt, skin tingling as you arched into him, breasts pressing against his chest.

the fabric of your shirt and his hard chest teasing your sensitive nipples, that were already hard from the cool air and his gaze.

“kookie…”

“fuck, baby.” he growls, voice rough with want.

he breaks the kiss and doesn’t waste any time before leaving hot, open mouthed kisses down your jaw to the sensitive spot below your ear.

his breath warm, stubble tickling your skin, making you let out a series of needy noises at the delicious feeling of that along with the softness of his lips.

“you sound so sweet when you make those noises, keep going for me.”

your pussy was dripping, clit throbbing already and you could feel the wetness stream down your thighs, making you squirm.

his hand steadied you, not letting you move away from him.

he pushed your t-shirt up, exposing your breasts to the cool air, nipples puckering further under his gaze.

“oh god…” you breathed.

jungkook's eyes darkened, eyes hungry, taking in your bare breasts, nipples begging for his touch and mouth.

“these damn tits.” he rasps, adoration in his voice.

his thumb brushed over the sensitive buds and the contact was so sudden, too much pleasure, that it made you cry out a soft moan.

he rolled your nipples between his fingers, pinching just enough to make you writhe, your hips rocking against his instinctively.

his hard cock strained against his sweatpants, the feeling of it pressing against your bare cunt was too much.

too much all at once.

your clit throbbed harder, the fabric of his sweatpants stimulating it, your body eagerly grinding on him.

“mhhh jungkook, please…” you pant.

your voice trembled, hands clutching his shoulders, nails digging into his muscles needily.

“patience, baby” he teased.

his lips curled into a smirk with amusement from your neediness.

he leaned down to take one nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling around the peak, hot and wet, before he sucked hard, the pull sending pleasure pain straight to your core.

“oh hahh—oh kookie—”

your voice broke in a cry as your head fell back, body arching into his mouth.

the wet heat of his tongue, along with the slight graze of his teeth, other hand kneading your breast, thumb flicking your nipple.

it was overwhelming.

you shuddered, lost in him.

lost in pleasure.

he switched to your other breast, making sure to provide you with the same attention everywhere, tongue lapping at you like he can never get enough.

“hah… shit…”

the room filled with your gasps and breathy whimpers that encouraged him.

he loved it when you were vocal.

your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging and he growled against your nipple, the vibration making you tremble.

your head dizzy.

“so damn responsive.” he chuckles darkly, lips brushing your nipples and he blows on your saliva coated wet nipple.

“ah!”

a cry tore from your throat, gripping his hair harder, his teasing too much for you.

“you’re perfect, love. my perfect girl”

you pushed his hands away, cheeks flushed.

you slid off his lap, kneeling between his legs on the floor.

a bold act of yours that rarely comes out for him to see.

his eyes widened, than darkened with lust when you tugged at his sweatpants, your fingers trembling.

you wanted to make him feel good.

he always went all the way to pleasure you and never asked for anything in return.

today you wanted it to be about him.

his cock sprang free, thick and heavy, tip glistening with precum and you swallowed hard.

you were intimidated but aching to please your husband.

the sheer size of him always surprising you despite seeing it almost every day.

you wrapped your hand around him, fingers barely meeting as you stroked slowly, feeling the hardness of him along with the throb of his cock.

“fuck, baby…” he groans, his head falling back, hand fisting the sheets.

his voice was gravel and strained, and it made your pussy palpitate harder.

you leaned down, lips brushing the tip, tongue coming out to catch the droplet of his precum, tasting his saltiness and he hissed.

he growls, hips twitching, struggling to hold back.

he wanted to fuck your pretty mouth.

wanted to take that mouth like how he would take your pussy.

your eyes meet his, his expression making you clench around nothing.

wanting to be filled, feeling empty as ever.

you slowly took him into your mouth, lips stretching around him while your tongue swirled before sinking lower.

you struggled to take the entirety of him, he was too big.

he hit the back of your throat and you were already choking, tears filling your eyes, struggling to breathe

it was too much.

you moaned around him, the vibration making him curse.

“goddamn it, baby,” he snarled, fingers tangling in your hair, guiding your head gently.

“suck your husband’s cock like that. you’re so damn good.”

you bobbed your head, hollowing your cheeks, your own noises sputtering, free hand stroked where your mouth couldn’t reach.

along with his balls, gripping the heaviness of them in your fingers, fondling them.

wet slurps, your gasps and his ragged breathing—filled the room, along with the creak of the bed from his movements.

your throat ached, eyes watering, but that didn’t stop you from taking him deeper.

loving how he unraveled.

for you.

his stress seemed to melt, replaced by raw animal need.

“fuck, you’re so pretty like this,” he rasped, thumb brushing a tear away from your cheek.

“my good wife.”

he thrust into your mouth, his grip on your hair tightening and you tried to relax your throat, letting him take control.

your gurgles and cries vibrated around him, drew curses and grunts from him.

you felt pride in how you made him feel.

“you’re gonna make me come, sweet girl.” he warned, voice strained.

his hips stuttering as you continued sucking him like you would suck a lollipop.

your favorite candy.

he finally pulled you off him with a soft, wet pop.

your lips swollen, eyes teary and cheeks flushed.

the sight made him let out an animal growl, he pulls you up to him, crashing his lips against yours.

the kiss was messy and desperate.

all tongue and teeth.

the taste of your lip balm mixing with his saltiness drove you both closer to madness.

he flipped you onto your back, legs spread wide by his hands gripping your thighs, you panted.

“koo…” you called out to him, making him shush you.

wanting to take his time with you.

the t-shirt bunched around your waist, exposing you, and he exhaled angrily.

a primal sound that made you want to squeeze your legs together, something he didn’t allow.

“look at you.” he mutters.

voice thick, he slides a finger through your swollen folds, collecting your wetness, you whined at the slight touch, racing heart matching with your pulsing clit.

“so damn wet for me. this little pussy's all mine, right?”

you blushed, gripping the bedsheets tightly, and nodded.

“yes, kookie…” you uttered, eyes half lidded.

he smirked and without any warning, slid two fingers inside, curling them to hit that spot.

you sobbed, back arching, pussy walls gripping him tightly.

you struggled to breathe properly.

he pumped his fingers inside you, thumb circling your clit, and you squirmed, moans loud and frantic as your hands bunched the sheets around you.

“that’s it, baby,” he coos, drinking in your expressions.

“let me hear you. let me know how good i make my girl feel.”

his words made you needier and you keened, the wet sounds of his fingers were too much, too obscene, and you soon felt your orgasm building.

body trembling and lips parted.

before you could come, he pulled out, and you let out a loud, needy whine, tears instantly welling in your eyes from the loss.

“noo, please…”

“patience, naughty girl.” he purred.

aligning himself with your entrance, he teased you, rubbing the tip through your folds, sliding up and down your slit but never entering.

you squirmed on the sheets.

“jungkook, please, i need you, don’t tease me.” you begged.

shyness gone, body and mind high on needing something only he could give you.

his eyes softened, his love for you filling his heart, and he decided to give in.

he pushed into you in one smooth thrust, penetrating you and you both moaned.

a shared sound of relief.

he was big, stretching you perfectly with a slight burn from the fullness even after having him fuck you for years now.

“fucking shit,” he grunts as he bottoms out.

“always so tight, so warm. such a good wife for me.”

he set a relentless pace, deep and hard and each thrust of his was hitting that spot inside you, making you full on wail onto the sheets.

“yes, yes!”

spilled from your lips repetitively.

the headboard starts hitting the wall, room filling with the noises of skin slapping against each other along with wet squelches.

his snarls, gripping your hips and pulled you into each thrust, your legs wrapping around him.

pulling him even deeper.

if that was even possible.

your nails raked his back, leaving red trails, he welcomes the pain, hips snapping faster, balls slapping against your folds roughly.

“yeah? you like that?” he growled.

his forehead met yours, eyes locked on yours, raw and full of need and he licked your collarbone, nibbling.

“take it all, baby. be a good little girl for me, come on.”

you yelped body trembling, he pounded you faster, your breasts bouncing, t-shirt tangled around your breast.

the sight of you almost naked, yet wrapped in his clothing, had him going feral in need.

he started sucking a hickey into your neck, turning it purple, you felt the force of his anger and need from his roughness.

taking out all his pent up tension on you.

what you wanted.

“jungkook!” you wailed, mind hazy from pleasure and pain, your walls clenching around him, tightening on him.

he groaned, feeling your orgasm nearing.

“come for me, baby,” he urged, voice hungry, thrusts erratic.

“come on your husband’s cock.”

he slipped a hand between you, thumb fingering your clit, and that’s it.

you shattered.

your orgasm crashing over you so fast and hard, you saw stars behind your vision

“kookie! nghh, it's too much—”

you screamed his name, voice broken, body convulsing, milking him.

he didn’t stop, chasing his own release, thrusts sloppy but deep and the overstimulation made you sob, biting your own fist to teeter you to the pain.

“you feel so good, fuck—” he shuddered, grip tightening, leaving bruises.

“gonna fill this tight cunt up!”

you clung to him and he came with a guttural curse, cock pulsing, filling you with spurts and spurts of his cum until it dripped down your thighs.

he collapsed onto you, not pulling out just yet, his heavy weight grounding you.

you panted, sweaty, his tongue entering your mouth once again, kissing you messily.

he pulled back and left a small kiss at the tip of your nose.

an action he often did after intimate moments, making you feel cherished in a way you cannot explain.

“i love you,” he gruffs, voice raw with emotion.

“so damn much”

you pouted, looking away, your shyness returning, but you never forgot to say it back, no matter the circumstances.

“i love you too, koo.”

he held you close to his chest, cuddling you.

you felt safe in his arms as the afterglow wrapped around both of you, warmth surrounding you both.

when he slowly decided to pull out of your heat, you whined at the emptiness, missing it instantly and he chuckled, nuzzling your cheek.

“my needy baby.” he teased.

you soon curled up on his hard chest, bare breasts pressing against his skin and kissed the tattoo of your name over his heart.

a delicate reminder from your first anniversary.

when he decided to surprise you with a tattoo of your name on his chest.

forever branding you to him.

he watched you, eyes softening, thinking how lucky he was to have you—his shy, sweet wife who loved him so fiercely.

as you drifted to sleep, lips parted, your cheeks flushed, jungkook brushed away a few strands of hair falling on your face, his eyes dilating with love.

his heart was full.

you were his everything.

his safe haven.

and in that quiet moment with you safe and sound in his arms, he knew he’d never need anything more in his life.

because he had the whole world right here in his arms.

permanent taglist: @chaelvrx @wintaemoonjen @jjeonjjk7 @slutology00 @furioustrashlover @kelsyx33 @kooever @svnbangtansworld @xcviis @snuglymalicioussea @nellbyy @minewlove @l4yl44 @captainengineer-trixie @cristy-101 @fangirl-coco-goddess @lachesismoonmist @angelfuzzy2 @levisnumber1 @angelsdecalcomania @magicalnachocreator @hynjamkook @koodollylvr @withmuchluv-tannie @istarag @elmarimochi9513 @wtfanu @kooklv @endlesslysassy @nanisblogg @cuntygguk @tatamicc

You carefully open the trunk of the black SUV parked in front of your house while Jungkook, your best friend, helps you with your luggage that seemed heavy enough to be carrying a dead body. 

Used to how he likes to run his mouth when it comes to you, you completely ignore his sharp antics as he rearranges the pile of suitcases like Tetris blocks, making sure nothing will topple over during the trip.

“The hell shit are you carrying for a three-day beach trip?” Jungkook asked, catching his breath as he closed the trunk.

In your mind, you’re convinced it’s still too early to start bickering over nonsense, so you just simply raised your hand in the air for a high five, which he immediately accepted—a gesture that no matter what the situation is, you know by heart that Jungkook will never turn down.

As you walk toward the other car where your brother was in, Jungkook begins complaining again. Saying it’s unfair that your ridiculously heavy suitcase is riding in his brother’s car while you get to travel in Seokjin’s car with your brother.

The next thing you knew, he was already dragging you with him.

Jungkook has been your best friend for almost fifteen years now. He is the same age as you, and the two of you attended the same middle school, high school, and even the same college.

He is the younger half-brother of your brother’s best friend of more than fifteen years, Yoongi. Since both of your brothers are simply inseparable, the two of you are basically forced to hang out with each other when you’re young and you’ve been best friends since.

You and Jungkook may seem to squabble and banter all the time, but it’s just the way your friendship works. The level of your closeness can be compared to siblings.

People are always surprised when they’re finding out that the two of you are just friends. They’re always insisting that you would make the perfect couple since you’re about the same age and very close.

But the thought of being in a romantic relationship with Jungkook makes your skin crawl for two main reasons.

First, Jungkook is a known fuckboy who enjoys casual relationships with different girls, sometimes at once and seems almost allergic to anything serious or stable.

Second—and more importantly—you have secret romantic feelings for his brother, who is four years older than you. You’ve liked him since high school, and unfortunately for you, Jungkook knows about it. The only reason he keeps his mouth shut is because you threaten to cut ties with him the moment he tells anyone—especially his brother.

“Ready to go?” Yoongi asked from the driver’s seat before starting the car, following the silver SUV in front that belongs to Seokjin when all of you in the car hummed in response.

Hoseok, your older cousin—who is also part of your brother’s circle—sits in the passenger seat, while you and Jungkook occupy the back.

Hoseok starts a conversation over your recent breakup and tries to offer you some comfort while still keeping things light after hearing that your boyfriend of six months—now your ex-boyfriend—dumps you because he wants to “find himself.”

“I’m fine. It’s a good-riddance type of breakup, really. I don’t have enough energy to coddle his insecurities all the time—and I love pink way too much to be the man in the relationship,” you murmured, uninterested in the topic.

Everything you say is true.

The only thing hurting right now is your ego. This is the first time you’ve ever been dumped in your 26 years of existence. Not to be smug but you’re always used to guys doting over you.

You met your ex-boyfriend at the coffee shop across from your office. He happens to work around the same area. At first, you find him charming and cute—and he feels the same about you. That’s how the relationship started.

But eventually, you realized he is incredibly insecure. He constantly projects his lack of confidence onto you and always assumes you’re flirting with your coworkers behind his back. The only reason you lasted six months with him is because the sex was good.

As someone with absolutely zero patience for childish and immature behavior, it’s hard for you to understand where his insecurities are coming from. Thankfully, he ended things before you did.

Meanwhile, everyone around you—especially your brother Namjoon—is convinced you’re secretly depressed because of the breakup. That is also the reason why you’re currently in this car, following the SUV ahead carrying Seokjin, your brother, Seokjin’s brother Taehyung, and his best friend Jimin.

This three-day trip is supposed to be a celebration—Seokjin’s bachelor party.

He is a year older than Yoongi and older than the rest of the guys. With the wedding happening next week, and after more than fifteen years of friendship, it’s only natural that your brother and his friends are all part of this trip.

“Besides, me and your brother never really liked your ex-boyfriend, Y/N,” Hoseok confessed, still trying to keep the conversation going.

“Yeah, me too. He’s weird,” Jungkook agrees from beside you, barely looking up from his phone. “I told you to stop dating guys your age.”

That comment immediately sparks curiosity from the two older guys sitting in front.

“You like younger ones?” Hoseok gasped a little over dramatic, turning slightly in his seat to look back at you.

“No—”

“She likes OLDER,” Jungkook cuts in before you can reason out for yourself, emphasizing the word, older.

You tugged his hair in annoyance, making him hiss in pain. Shooting you a glare while rubbing the spot you pulled.

Your eyes unknowingly drift toward the rearview mirror—and that’s when you catch Yoongi’s gaze on you.

He glances at the mirror, meeting your eyes for a brief second before looking back at the road. The eye contact is quick, but it still makes your cheeks warm.

“Really? I didn’t know that,” Hoseok replied, amused with your preferences in guys.

“That’s because I don’t tell anyone.”

“About how old?”

“Umm… maybe four or five years, ah yes around that age gap” you answered your cousin as innocently as possible making sure to let Yoongi hear.

And you swear to God—you see the faintest smirk tug at Yoongi’s lips as you answer.

His subtle reaction sends a strange wave of nervous energy through your body, making you involuntarily press your thighs together as a jittery feeling settles deep in your stomach.

The car ride took almost three hours. You and Jungkook are drifting in and out of sleep in the back seat while the two older guys in front talk about random things the entire time.

Once the car is finally parked, Jungkook and Hoseok immediately start unloading the luggage, handing each suitcase over to its rightful owner. After making sure everything is out of the trunk and the car is safely locked, the group begins walking toward the resort and hotel Seokjin has booked.

While checking in, you keep bugging Jungkook about how hungry you are—and how ridiculously heavy your suitcase is—suggesting he should carry yours, earning several death glares from him.

Jimin and Taehyung soon joined the two of you while the older guys stayed behind to settle everything at the front desk.

Just like with Jungkook, you are completely comfortable with Jimin and Taehyung. They are both a year older than you. Taehyung is Seokjin’s younger brother, while Jimin is his best friend.

Back in high school, Jimin and Jungkook are both part of the dance club, and later he attends the same college as the two of you. He even shares a few classes with Jungkook, which makes your group naturally close and easy with each other.

Once checked in, everyone is sent to their assigned rooms. Seokjin makes sure to book them all on the same floor.

Namjoon and Hoseok share a room. Jungkook and Yoongi share another. Jimin and Taehyung are assigned their shared room as well.

Meanwhile, you and Seokjin each get separate rooms since you don’t have company with you.

Having a suite by yourself excites you, but there is one small issue—it’s a little farther away from the rest of the guys. While their suites are clustered together, yours sits at the far corner after turning left into a quieter hallway.

Before everyone part ways, Seokjin reminds the group that the yacht party will start at twelve, which also means lunch will be served there.

His friends really go all out for his bachelor’s party, renting a yacht for twelve hours starting at noon just for him.

You honestly have no idea what to expect. It’s your first time attending a bachelor’s party, after all.

Still, you convince yourself that nothing too inappropriate will happen, considering the people involved. Even though you are well aware that your brother’s friends are far from saints, you are also confident they’re not reckless either.

While getting ready for the yacht party, your hair dryer suddenly stopped working in the middle of styling your hair. Your suite has a built-in one but it’s the traditional hair blower that uses heat—yours is the heatless one, to prevent further damage on your ginger-colored hair that you’ve been maintaining for months now.

Annoyed, you grab your phone from the sink counter and text Jungkook, remembering that he uses the same one as yours.

You leave your room, dragging your half-open suitcase along the carpeted hallway on the way to Jungkook and Yoongi’s. Thankfully, you haven’t unpacked your suitcase yet, which makes it easier to bring the whole thing with you since you’re not even halfway done getting ready.

When Yoongi opens the door after you knock, the first thing you notice is his frowning face as he takes in the sight of you standing there in nothing but a bathrobe, hauling your huge suitcase.

“Uh… Jungkook’s there?” you asked when he doesn’t immediately let you in.

Without a word, Yoongi steps aside to give you space, and you walk in like you own the place. Meanwhile, before closing the door, he briefly looks down the hallway to make sure you aren’t being followed by anyone who might have seen you wandering around in just a bathrobe. Luckily, the corridor is empty.

As expected, Jungkook immediately starts bitching about you dragging your whole suitcase in their room. You just ignored him after reasoning out that it’s simply more convenient to finish getting ready in their suite instead of drying your hair here and then walking all the way back to your place afterward.

With three people sharing one bathroom, the process takes longer than expected. The delay eventually causes Seokjin to call Yoongi, asking where the hell everyone is.

As you fastened the large ivory ribbon around your half-ponytail, the two brothers kept calling your name relentlessly from outside the bathroom.

You stepped out with an annoyed expression, irritated at being rushed when you weren’t even fully satisfied with your appearance.

The moment you emerge from the bathroom, both men fall completely silent, eyes wandering on your fit.

You’re wearing an off-white ruffled bralette top with thin straps that hug your perfectly shaped breasts snugly, creating a soft cleavage. Paired with it is a long, flowy, tiered skirt in the same color, made of multiple soft ruffled layers that move gently as you walk. Underneath, you’re wearing plain white bikini bottoms in case you decide to swim later.

It’s moments like this that makes Jungkook wish he isn’t your best friend because you are completely his type and he will definitely hit on you.

If you weren’t always so open about how you feel absolutely nothing romantic toward him, he would probably risk everything just to get you into bed with him.

Meanwhile, Yoongi, even without an obvious reaction showing, couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Lunch is served on the yacht before the party officially begins. After eating, you hang out with the younglings—Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung on the lower deck while they roughhouse with each other like a bunch of overgrown kids.

A few hours after lunch, Seokjin’s bachelor party finally kicks off.

You’re a little surprised when a group of pretty ladies—dressed sexy but still appropriate—board the yacht just before it sails out to the open sea.

You soon learn that they are your brother’s present for Seokjin. They’re entertainers hired to keep the bachelor and his friends company.

It doesn’t take long for the yacht to be filled with loud music, laughter, and the chaotic energy of a group of men with raging hormones. Alcohol flows freely, and everyone is paired up with a pretty girl as a company.

You managed to slip away and choose to settle on the higher part of the deck alone, watching the party unfold below you like a scene from a movie.

Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung are long gone the moment the party started. They abandoned you without hesitation in exchange for the full bachelor-party experience. You cannot blame the guys and their hormones though.

You pulled out your phone and secretly recorded a video of Jungkook with a girl sitting comfortably on his lap while he flirts with her in a semi-drunken, delirious way. You make a mental note to use the video against him for later.

Your eyes eventually land on a familiar figure lingering near the edge of the lower deck.

Yoongi.

He stands quietly as he watches his friends party like crazy, slowly sipping his whiskey on the rocks.

You watch as he lazily twirls the glass in his hand, allowing the ice to melt just enough before taking another sip. There’s something about him that makes your breath hitch, the kind of presence that leaves you helplessly captivated by him and to every little thing he does.

A brunette, honey-skinned girl with stunning proportions stands nearby, keeping him company. They talk at a polite distance from each other, and every now and then you see Yoongi chuckle, wondering what could it be that she said to make him respond like that.

What really amuses you, though, is the complete lack of physical contact between them. In the middle of a bachelor party filled with flirting, drinking, and chaos, Yoongi looks like the most respectful man on the entire boat. The awkward sight between him and his companion makes you giggle by yourself.

You know Yoongi is stern with his boundaries, he isn’t fond of people in his space. During the time that he’s in a relationship with someone, his PDA is only limited to holding hands and grabbing waist.

But that alone isn’t enough to make you question his demeanor in bed, especially since you remember one of his ex-girlfriends drunkenly sharing intimate details about their time together with Yoongi to both you and Jungkook, making you want to experience it on your own.

Growing up, you watch Yoongi grow up too. For fifteen years, he and your brother are practically inseparable, which means you see him almost every day as well.

Over the years, you witness a few of his unsuccessful relationships. His last one lasted three years, and at one point you’re convinced he’s going to propose to her any day—until Jungkook casually told you that his brother ended things with his girlfriend.

That happened two years ago.

Since then, as far as you know, Yoongi hasn’t been with anyone. For two whole years.

For a long time, you assume it’s because he isn’t over his ex yet. But thanks to Jungkook’s constant reassurance that his brother is simply too busy with his job as a music producer. That makes you allow yourself to hold onto a quiet, ridiculous hope.

Maybe—just maybe—you still have a chance with the man who is four years older than you.

Eventually, the bachelor party winds down.

You spend the entire evening on the upper deck while the guys party below, thanks to the magazines stacked on the center table that kept you entertained.

When you finally check on them, the sight is disastrous. Everyone is completely wasted.

Taehyung and Hoseok are literally crawling across the floor. Seokjin drifts in and out of drunken sleep. Your brother looks only minutes away from passing out completely, and Jungkook is wandering around looking for you for some unknown reason, drooling slightly while muttering incoherent nonsense.

Yoongi is the only one who still seems remotely normal.

You have no idea how he managed to get all five men back to their hotel rooms easily. Meanwhile, you are stuck dragging Jungkook’s heavy, half-conscious body from the elevator to the suite he shares with Yoongi, and you feel like you might die halfway through the hallway.

Yoongi holds the door open for you as you guide Jungkook toward his bed.

Miraculously, the moment Jungkook reaches the room, he seems to regain a bit of consciousness. Without saying a word, he stumbles straight into the bathroom to take a shower.

You take that as your cue to leave.

After saying goodbye to Yoongi, you drag your heavy suitcase—the same one you brought into their suite earlier—back down the hallway toward your own room.

A few minutes after you leave, Jungkook steps out of the shower—still half-drunk—and makes his way to Jimin and Taehyung’s room.

Yoongi is left alone.

He’s about to set up his laptop and a few basic pieces of music equipment when his stomach growls in protest.

Rather than ordering room service, he decided to head down to the convenience store on the ground floor of the hotel.

As the elevator doors slide open, his eyes immediately land on you.

You’re standing near the front desk with your suitcase beside you, looking distraught and on the verge of tears. A staff member is speaking to you apologetically while a man stands nearby, clearly involved in the situation. In your hand, your phone is pressed to your ear as you attempt to call your brother, Namjoon.

“What happened?” Your head snapped on your side when Yoongi approached, placing an arm around your shoulders. His voice is calm, but his eyes are fixed on the receptionist, demanding for an explanation.

The staff quickly explains the situation.

When Seokjin booked the hotel rooms, the reservation system had been experiencing a major glitch. Because of it, your room had been double-booked. The man standing across from you had actually reserved the room weeks before Seokjin made the booking.

The staff members are deeply apologetic. They promised a full refund on your room and offered a fifty percent discount on all the rooms under Seokjin’s name as compensation.

Ordinarily, transferring you to another room would have solved the problem immediately, but luck isn’t on your side tonight.

Unfortunately, the entire hotel is fully booked—there isn’t a single spare room available.

The receptionist then offers an alternative, a complimentary stay at their sister hotel located about ten minutes away. Desperate and exhausted, you quickly accepted the offer.

Yoongi, however, reacts very differently.

“No,” he responded flatly while looking at the receptionist.

The single word is firm, almost cutting, as if the suggestion itself is ridiculous. Before the staff can say anything further, he simply adds, “We’ll figure it out,” and gently but decisively guides you away from the desk.

When you ask why he refused the offer, Yoongi only shrugs lightly.

“It’s not safe,” he explained. “Your brother will lose it in the morning if he finds out you moved to a different hotel.”

When the elevator returns to your floor, the two of you spend nearly an hour knocking on doors and ringing the phones of every one of the guys.

Too bad, everyone was far too drunk to hear anything. Not a single door opens.

With a quiet long sigh, Yoongi finally turns to you and offers the only solution left.

“You can stay in my room,” he mumbled, biting the inside of his cheek. “Jungkook’s in Jimin and Taehyung’s room anyway. He’s probably passed out with them by now.”

For you, it isn’t really a big deal.

You’ve shared space with Yoongi countless times before—just the two of you alone. Whenever your brother leaves the two of you in the living room while he steps out, or when you end up cleaning the aftermath of one of your or Namjoon’s birthday parties together, it has always felt normal.

Comfortable, familiar, but this time feels different.

Maybe it’s because Yoongi quietly insists on carrying your heavy suitcase. Or maybe it’s because, without saying much, he slips off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders when he notices that you’re still wearing your yacht outfit—one that leaves more skin exposed than the chilly hallway allows.

Whatever the reason is, something about this moment feels unfamiliar in a way the two of you have never experienced before.

The distance between your eyebrows slowly disappears when Yoongi tells you to sleep on the floor using the extra mattress and thick comforter he had just requested through room service.

For a moment, you had almost convinced yourself that tonight might turn into something special. After all, you are spending the night with your long-time secret crush.

That hopeful thought fades quickly when he casually reminds you that he is not much of an affectionate person and you’re not an exception for it.

An internal battle immediately begins in your mind—whether to protest or simply accept his rather cold offer. But the answer becomes clear just as quickly.

Yoongi is not Jungkook. You cannot act bratty toward him the way you do with your best friend. Yoongi, you’re certain, would not hesitate to throw you out of the room in the middle of the night if you pushed too far.

So you swallow your complaints.

After fixing your sleeping arrangement on the floor—though not without a bit of sulking—you pull a few things from your suitcase and head toward the bathroom.

You take a quick shower and go through your skincare routine, but halfway through it your stomach begins to growl with hunger. You are far too sleepy and tired to eat a full meal, but luckily you notice a bar of chocolate wrapped in a fancy red wrapper tucked among Jungkook and Yoongi’s skincare products on the counter.

Thinking that it’s just another snack Jungkook likes to stash somewhere in his things,  you open the chocolate and begin munching while continuing your routine.

Halfway through the bar, your sugar craving already feels satisfied. You neatly place the remaining bar at the far corner of the sink counter.

After brushing your teeth, you slip into your pair of black satin pajamas—soft and comfortably loose.

When you step out of the bathroom, the suite lights are already dimmed.

Yoongi is sitting on the far side of the room, his back partially turned toward you as he works on his laptop. A pair of headphones rests over his ears, and the glow of the screen illuminates the sharp lines of his face.

Yoongi has always had a deep passion for music. Both he and your cousin Hoseok often stay over at your house late into the night, working alongside your brother. Namjoon frequently helps consult their lyrics, given that he is a writer and currently works as the editor-in-chief of a large publishing company.

You have always found yourself mesmerized every time Yoongi was in his element.

Tonight’s not an exception, even after he dismissed you to sleep on the floor while he enjoys the luxury of the huge, comfortable bed.

You scoffed silently at your own thoughts before settling into the soft comforter on your tiny makeshift bed, scrolling through your phone.

A few minutes passed, and you noticed something strange. Your heart rate begins to climb slowly for no clear reason. You lower your phone and stare up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what is causing the sudden flutter in your chest. 

Instead, you just become aware of the faint beads of sweat forming along your forehead and the delicate line of your neck, trailing toward your collarbone. You feel hot even though the suite’s air conditioner is blasting.

You try to ignore the weird discomfort and decide to focus on falling asleep.

But no matter how hard you try to relax, you keep getting distracted by how warm your body feels. Without even realizing it, you even push the comforter away from your body in an attempt to cool down.

The strange feeling doesn’t fade. If anything, it only grows stronger.

You begin tossing and turning restlessly, unaware of how much the movement is starting to distract Yoongi from arranging the synth on the track he’s working on.

Fed up by distress in your body, you sit up abruptly and head straight for the bathroom.

Standing in front of the mirror, you study your reflection. Your skin looks unusually flushed. You cup your face in both hands, surprised by how warm it feels. Your cheeks are deeply tinted red, your eyes glossy, and in a strange way your entire complexion seems to glow.

You close your eyes and try to concentrate on what exactly is happening to your body.

The warmth continues to build low in your abdomen, spreading through you in a way that makes your breath catch. You bite your lower lip as you feel a sudden, undeniable awareness of your own body.

A quiet gasp escapes you when the realization hits—you are aroused.

You squeeze your thighs together once you're certain of the wetness settling on the thin fabric of your underwear. Of all the times you get to be horny, it has to be tonight—when the only other person in the suite is Yoongi.

You pondered for a moment if you’re entering your ovulation phase but being the person you are, you don't usually track those kinds of things.

Brushing off the weird timing of your arousal, you return to the small mattress on the floor beside the queen-sized bed and attempt once again to sleep.

But you really couldn’t.

Your heartbeat continues to race, your body growing extremely warmer by the second, you’re almost panting. The sensation becomes increasingly overwhelming until your breathing grows heavier, slower, deeper.

Your legs pressed tightly together, afraid you might start grinding against nothing without meaning to. Your thoughts spiral with deep urge, and it feels as though you might completely lose control of yourself at any moment.

After several more tossing and turning, you stood up again and made your way to the bathroom for the second time.

You convince yourself that perhaps you simply need to pee—that maybe doing so will help you feel better. You focus entirely on that thought, hoping it will calm the storm raging inside you.

Meanwhile, Yoongi hears everything.

Every restless shift, uneven breaths, every small shuffle across the floor during the last twenty minutes.

At first he tries to ignore it, but eventually curiosity begins to creep in.

The suite is quiet enough that he can hear the faint sound of your muffled sniffing partnered with heavy huffing sounds of your exhales from the bathroom. A knot of worry tightens in his chest.

For a moment, he wonders if you absolutely hated sleeping on the floor—you started crying.

The second you step out of the bathroom, Yoongi closes his laptop and turns toward you.

“Y/N, you okay?” he asked, his eyes carefully studying you.

You stop just outside the bathroom door, caught completely off guard by him suddenly paying attention to you. Not knowing how to answer, you simply stand there, staring back at him in silence contemplating whether to share your non-problem with him.

Even in the dim lighting, Yoongi immediately notices that something is off.

He can see how flushed your cheeks are, the gloss in your eyes, the sweat on your forehead that’s dampening your baby hairs.

With genuine concern, he rises from his seat and walks toward you.

Without hesitation, he lifts the back of his hand to your forehead to check your temperature. Then after, both of his large hands move to cup the sides of your neck, feeling for any sign of a fever.

The contact makes you bite down on your lower lip as you are forced to meet his eyes.

Yoongi is much taller than you, which means you have to tilt your head upward to look at him. The position gives him the perfect opportunity to study your face more closely.

Now he notices everything more.

Your doe eyes, redness creeping on your eyeline, lashes fluttering softly in a way that feels almost unintentionally sexy. The deep crimson blush stained across your cheeks. And your lips—looking so soft, slightly parted, and impossibly full.

For the first time that night, Yoongi finds himself momentarily fazed.

You have no idea where the sudden boldness comes from, but when Yoongi asks if you’re okay, you find yourself reaching for one of the hands resting against your neck. Fingers slowly intertwine with his, holding on as if he is the only steady thing in the room.

“Yoongi… can you help me… please?” you whispered. Your voice is soft—so quiet that he almost doesn’t catch it the first time.

For a few seconds, Yoongi just simply stares at you.

It takes him a moment to process what you’ve said, his attention momentarily distracted by how sultry your voice sounds, making him wonder if you always talk like this.

Then something seemed to click in his brain. The familiarity of the signs you’re showing.

Yoongi abruptly pulls away and strides into the bathroom in a rush, catching you in surprise.

His eyes scan the large vanity countertop until they land on the half-eaten chocolate bar you had been snacking on earlier.

He stopped for a moment as if frozen. You watch his eyes widen slightly and his mouth slowly forms a small O as the realization sinks in.

“You ate this?” he was frowning when he asked.

Clueless and confused, you nod silently.

“But why?” he pressed again, his tone sharper now—almost accusatory, laced with disbelief, like you did something very stupid.

Your brows knit together by how small you feel right now.

“God forbid, I was hungry. Are you really upset that I ate your chocolate?” you spat, running a hand through your hair.

“Except it’s not just chocolate,” he responded, almost cutting you off. “This isn’t ordinary chocolate. It’s an aphrodisiac. Hoseok bought it as a prank gift for Jin-hyung’s party.”

Now it’s your turn to be dumbfounded.

The heat in your body seems to intensify all at once, spreading through you so strongly that it feels like you’re gonna pass out at any moment.

You quickly snatch the sweet treat from Yoongi’s hand, scanning the packaging.

The moment you confirm what it is, your stomach drops.

Your knees gave out, and you dramatically sank down onto the floor, suddenly wanting to cry from how overwhelming and embarrassing everything feels.

You don’t miss the part on the label explaining that the sweets can cause an intense increase in libido depending on how much is consumed.

And considering that the bar is nearly gone, it explains exactly why you feel like humping everything around like a dog in-heat.

Yoongi’s expression becomes soft, crouching down to help you back to your feet. He guides you gently toward the bed and sits you down, his actions more sympathetic than anything else.

From how warm your skin feels under his touch, he can only imagine how strange this must feel for you.

“What should I do, Yoongi? Should I go to the hospital?” you dreaded, your eyes pleading as you looked straight at him.

“You just have to let it pass,” he crooned.

He remains standing beside the bed, watching you as you roll your eyes at him.

“Ugh! I wish Jungkook were the one here with me right now.”

Yoongi’s brows immediately furrow at that.

For a brief moment, he wonders if you’re actually suggesting doing something far more intimate with his younger brother given your current state.

“I feel so hot… and weird… and—ugh! This is starting to frustrate me!” you groaned, fanning your face with both hands.

Realizing he’s likely going to be stuck dealing with this situation for the rest of the night, Yoongi suggested grabbing some ice cream from the convenience store downstairs with a heavy sigh.

Desperate for anything that might cool you down, you eagerly agreed.

A few minutes later, you’re standing in front of the freezer, examining the different flavors of mochi ice cream available.

Just as you’re deciding which one to get, the man who had originally booked your hotel room, the man who was just with you at the front desk earlier, approaches once he sees you, a couple of beers in his hand.

He apologizes once more for the mix-up, though you quickly reassure him that it wasn’t his fault.

He then followed to ask if you managed to find somewhere to stay for the night. You happily tell him that you did.

Not too far away, Yoongi stands at a distance, watching the interaction.

From where he’s standing, it’s painfully obvious that the guy is trying to flirt with you.

And when Yoongi overhears him inviting you to come hang out in his suite—to watch a movie with a few of his friends—his patience finally runs thin.

Without a word, he walks over, takes the mochi ice cream from your hand, and gently but firmly pulls you along toward the cashier.

By the time you step outside the store together, the stranger is already forgotten.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Yoongi exclaimed, eyebrows knitting together.

You glance at him, irritated and confused.

“What did I do this time?”

“Really?” he says incredulously. “You were actually considering going with a stranger for a ‘movie night’ just because you’re feeling horny right now?”

You choked slightly at how casually he said those words.

Immediately, you smack his arm lightly while glancing around nervously to make sure no one overheard him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” you whispered sharply. “What if someone heard you and thinks I’m actually horny?!”

“Are you not?” he taunted with a smug little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You shoved him lightly again, even more annoyed this time.

Without another word, you marched ahead toward the suite, leaving him behind.

But as you walk away, you hear him chuckle softly.

When the two of you returned to the hotel suite, Yoongi immediately settled back in front of his laptop and resumed working, quietly eating his ice cream. He leaves you to yourself—and to your problem that’s still simmering deep inside your body.

You end up lying across his bed, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Yoongi notices, but says nothing. He is fairly certain that the last thing you’ll be doing right now is sleep.

You are hoping that the weird sensation coursing through you would fade soon.

Instead, it grows worse.

Much worse.

Your body turns unbearably sensitive, every nerve suddenly heightened. There is an irritating restlessness beneath your skin—a persistent itch you cannot seem to satisfy no matter how hard you try to ignore it.

A dull ache begins forming low in your abdomen once more, as though you are holding something back that desperately wants to be released.

Without even realizing it, you begin practicing controlled breathing—slow, deliberate inhales followed by steady exhales—trying to clear your mind and calm the relentless pounding of your heart.

The thought of touching yourself creeps quietly into your mind.

You glance toward Yoongi, considering to straddle on his lap and begin to hump him until you’re satisfied.

You cursed yourself with your dirty thoughts.

He probably wouldn’t mind if you slipped into the bathroom for a moment… right?

Letting out a deep sigh, you grab your phone and attempt to call Jungkook again, hoping desperately that he might finally answer and somehow rescue you from this miserable situation.

But the line rings unanswered.

Across the room, Yoongi is having his own struggle.

For the past fifteen minutes, his eyes have been fixed on his laptop screen, but his mind has been anywhere but on his work. Your constant shifting on the bed, the soft rustling of sheets, and the occasional frustrated grunt escaping your lips make it nearly impossible for him to concentrate.

Eventually, he exhales heavily and shuts the laptop completely this time.

He stood up, stretching his arms briefly before walking over to the bed.

From where he stands beside it, he looks down at you—clearly taking in the rather pitiful state you’re in.

“Go back to your bed,” he said flatly. “I’m going to sleep now.”

He spares you a quick glance before looking away, his attention drifting somewhere else around the room.

You didn’t move. You didn’t even answer.

Instead, you remained sprawled across the center of the queen-sized bed, gazing up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Your lashes flutter slowly, your lips slightly parted as you continue trying to regulate your breathing. Your chest rises and falls unevenly, your skin still flushed with warmth.

So fucking arousing.

“Aish… hurry up!” he groans under his breath, attempting to sound annoyed—though it doesn’t quite land the way he intends.

Just by looking at you, he already knows you’re not planning to budge.

He was slightly surprised when you suddenly raises your hand toward him, the gesture resembling a silent request to help you stand up.

With a faint frown, he reaches out and takes your hand, offering a help.

But you have something entirely different in mind.

Using the last bit of strength you have left, you suddenly tug him forward instead. He stumbles toward you in surprise, and in one swift motion your free hand grips the collar of his shirt.

Caught completely off guard, Yoongi loses his balance as he falls forward over you.

His reflexes are quick enough for him to brace his arms on either side of your head before his full weight can land on you. Still, the lower half of his body collides lightly with yours, pressing down just enough to draw a soft whimper from your lips at the unexpected contact.

“The fuck you’re doing, Y/N?” he asked, his voice low, breathing ragged, and slightly surprised.

His heart began to pound, brain couldn’t function properly as much.

You hold his gaze without any trace of backing down.

Slowly, your arms slide around his neck, preventing him from easily pulling away if he tries.

“Can you help me just this once, Yoongi?” you muttered, your eyes pleading with unmistakable desperation.

Yoongi wanted to say something back but he couldn’t, completely distracted by how you say his name just now, so sultry, it almost sounded like a moan.

Before he can protest, you lift your head from the pillow and press your lips against his.

The kiss is gentle. Your soft lips move against his with careful curiosity, exploring slowly. You nibble lightly at his lower lip, tugging at it before your tongue brushes against his mouth in a timid invitation.

It is tender. Careful. Almost hesitant.

Realizing that Yoongi wasn’t responding at all, a wave of shame crashes over you.

Your mind immediately spirals, overthinking the worst conclusions.

You should stop. You should pull away before you embarrass yourself any further.

Reluctantly, you begin to withdraw, your lips leaving his. Your eyes sting slightly as the weight of the moment settles in your chest. Your arms loosen from around his neck.

When you open your eyes again, you find Yoongi staring directly at you.

His gaze is fixed—intense, almost analytical—as if he’s studying you and waiting to see what you’ll do next.

Shock is written plainly across his face.

He hasn’t moved. He hasn’t said a word.

The silence is eating you alive.

“I—”

You tried to speak but was cut off when his hand suddenly slid to the back of your neck.

In one swift motion, he pulls you closer, crashing his lips against yours.

This time, the kiss is bold, craving, hungry, no trace of hesitation.

Your lips move against each other with growing urgency, your breaths mingling between them. His kiss is confident, consuming, and when his lips press firmly against yours, tiny whimpers of pleasure escape your mouth without permission.

His tongue prod your lips, demanding for an entrance instead of asking. He is using his mouth skillfully to devour you, waking up a much more intense desire.

His mouth slowly maneuvers over your jaw, placing wet kisses on your soft skin as you angle your head to give him more access. He traces your skin with his tongue while nibbling on your ears, swiping over the sensitive spots of your lobes.

“Yes, just like that.” You moaned, your hands wrapping in his locks, tugging at it softly while you’re getting drunk by the tingling feeling poking on your spine.

“You sure ‘bout this?” he whispered against your skin, asking for your permission.

The feeling of his mouth exploring your body, combined with the subtle weight of him hovering over you, tickles something deep in your brain. All you can do is moan in response and nod repeatedly, desperate for him to continue.

Your hands slide under his shirt, slowly drawing circles on his softly toned stomach as you savor the sensation of his mouth working against your neck—sucking on your supple skin until it leaves dark purple marks.

Every time his tongue circles a spot he’s marked, easing the sharp sting from sucking too hard, it feels like you’re getting drunk.

You involuntarily started grinding underneath his body, making sure to rub your core against his growing bulge— earning deep quiet groans from him.

As his mouth is busy leaving marks and love bites on your neck, his hands work on your pajamas, hastily unbuttoning them one by one until your plump, full breasts are freed. He left your neck for a while to adore your delicate body.

“So fucking sexy,” before thinking, the words already slipped out of his mouth.

He claimed your lips once again, passionate like the first time. When his fingers grazed the edge of your pants, your breath hitched, mouth slightly parted. He took it as an opportunity to swirl his tongue all over yours.

You lifted your hips slightly as he deliberately pulled down your pajamas with your panties all at once, making it easier to be discarded.

His hands were rough against your soft skin, the coldness of the steel from his rings touches your delicate thighs giving a thrill of excitement.

Once you’re fully naked underneath him, Yoongi propped himself up, hurriedly taking off his shirt and pants while looking at you. Eyes wandering on your beautiful body.

You do exactly the same, heavy lidded eyes are focused on him while he undresses. Once he successfully discarded his boxers, you see his massive hard cock slightly swaying as it hangs out.

Absent-mindedly, you licked your lips at his size, drawing a smirk on Yoongi’s lips.

You folded your knees upward, thighs slightly apart, giving him a good angle of your leaking hole.

Yoongi stares intently at you, cursing himself repeatedly in his head as he realizes his best friend’s sister is completely naked in front of him.

When you notice Yoongi staring at you for too long, a worry crosses your chest—thinking he changed his mind, that he might not be up for it after all.

You rose, kneeling on the bed, as you sat on them.

He just stands there, contemplating, his knees brushing the edge of the bed while his hand slowly strokes his cock, eyes locked on you.

“There’s still chocolate left, if you need it,” you murmured softly, your voice teasing slightly to mask the sudden awkwardness.

“H-huh?” he asked, as if he didn’t hear you the first time.

“I said, there’s still chocolate left,” you repeated. “You know, in case you needed help,” you continued.

Yoongi scoffed at your words. “I don’t need help, Y/N. I’m already painfully hard, as you can see,” he teased.

Your gaze drops to his cock as he continues stroking it slowly.

“Then why aren’t you touching me? Second guessing?” you pressed again, bold and direct, though the softness in your voice betrays a hint of worry that he might be having second thoughts.

“No, baby,” he cooed, his free hand moving to the side of your cheek, gently tracing your skin.

Your stomach flutters at the nickname.

Gathering enough courage, you slowly reach for his throbbing cock.

“Can I?” you asked for permission. He nods.

You bring your palm to your mouth, spit on it, then gently wrap your hand around him, spreading your saliva so your grip glides smoothly. Using your thumb, you carefully collect the precum leaking at his tip and spread it over his plush mushroom head.

You notice his hand, which had been caressing your cheek, drop to his side. His head falls back, eyes closing, mouth slightly parted, breath growing heavy—clear signs he enjoys what you’re doing.

You continue stroking him, feeling the friction of his shaft against your soft palms, tracing every angry vein, sending shivers up your spine.

Bringing your mouth close to his throbbing head, you spit on it again, then press your tongue flat to his tip, tasting the salty precum as you gently suck on it. When you release his head, it makes a nice popping sound, followed by a deep grunt from Yoongi.

You glance at him, checking if it hurts, but all you see is pure pleasure on his face.

You flatten your tongue and lick a slow stripe from base to head, then you flick your tongue over his tip once more, swirling it on his slit before going back to his base, placing soft kisses all over his balls then for the second time, licking a slow stripe from the base to his tip. Tongue wet and warm, your nose grazing the skin of his length.

“Fucking hell…” Yoongi let out a throaty curse, drunk and breathless.

Yoongi cups your jaw with one hand, taking his cock in the other, giving it a few shallow strokes before gliding the tip along your lips, teasing you.

“Fuck, Y/N, your brother’s gonna kill me,” he murmured, eyes fixed on his tip swirling along your plumped lips.

A soft grin tugs at your lips as you look up at him, making sure to flutter your lashes a little sexier.

“But hell, you’re so attractive right now, it feels like a sin not to touch you,” he continued, his voice deep and low, the kind that makes girls go crazy over with.

His hand leaves your jaw and grips your hair in a makeshift ponytail.

“I’ll just deal with your him later,” he whispered, lightly slapping his cock against your face.

“Mhmm, open up for me, baby.”

It’s not a request—it’s an order you willingly follow.

Yoongi shoves his massive, aching cock inside your mouth, broken curses slipping from his lips. His hand in your hair provides support as he continues to push himself.

Another delicious moan escapes his lips once his tip touches the back of your throat. Thanks to your nonexistent gag reflex, Yoongi feels like he’s floating in euphoria.

Your eyes start to water from how full your mouth is, your jaw aching from the stretch, yet there’s still part of him that can’t fit entirely.

Just his size alone is enough to make you wet. Yoongi is thick rather than long, but you still estimated he’s almost six inches with a fat girth.

A sudden memory flashes—the first time you touched yourself back in high school, imagining it was him, losing count of how many times you moaned his name.

Back in reality, you place your hand on his hips and take over. Slowly, bobbing your head, taking his cock in and out of your mouth, your free hand is pumping the remaining of his length.

Drool dipping down your chin as you take him further down, hollowing your cheeks, pace increasing but consistent.

Yoongi couldn’t help but to watch you take his cock, plump lips stretched obscenely wide around his girth, eyes glossy, and looking so fucking pretty while giving him the best blowjob of his life.

You notice his grip on your hair tightening—you know he’s close. But to your surprise, Yoongi stops you. He says he doesn’t want to finish yet with just your mouth.

“Now lay down for me, baby.” he instructed, finally letting go of everything that’s restraining him.

“Damn, you’re so beautiful.”

The compliment was a slip, Yoongi is so mesmerized with you tonight, he seemed to forget how to act properly with a girl in bed.

You tried to hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks, but it’s already too late.

“You know I’ll still let you fuck me tonight even without these flattering words, right?” you counter playfully.

Yoongi, who is hovering over you, looks directly into your eyes, his expression suddenly firm.

“I’m not the type to compliment girls just to get in their pants. We can just sleep now, and I’ll still think you’re beautiful when we wake up in the morning.”

Something about his words makes your stomach twist. A false hope begins to glimmer in your heart.

In the silence, your mind starts wondering if there might be a chance that Yoongi could like you romantically.

Your thoughts are instantly cut off when Yoongi starts sucking on your nipple while his free hand roughly massages the other, as if he has been craving it.

You let out a soft whimper, remembering how sensitive you are, and your body begins grinding against the pleasurable feeling.

Yoongi nips at the bud of your nipple, nibbles on the soft skin around it, and sucks on it hard enough to leave a mark—as if claiming what’s his.

While he is busy playing with your breasts, your hand swiftly moves in between your bodies until you find his cock. Slowly, you give it a few pumps before gliding it along the lips of your cunt, collecting your own arousal.

Yoongi jolts at the sudden contact, biting your skin a little too hard and making you hiss in pain.

The next thing you hear is his muffled curses as he buries his face into your heavy breasts.

You know now that gliding his tip along your leaking cunt makes his head spin, so you keep doing it until it starts feeling too much for you as well.

Both of you are panting from uncontrollable lust and arousal. Yoongi props himself up and kneels between your legs.

“Shit! I don’t have any spare condoms,” he realizes, frustration evident on his face.

Yoongi came to this bachelor’s party with no intention of getting laid, which is why he didn’t bother bringing condoms with him. And without having someone in his life for nearly two years, he never felt the need to keep one in his wallet.

“I—I got tested recently when I broke up with my ex, and I haven’t stopped taking my birth control,” you stated, slightly embarrassed by the sudden TMI.

“My last screening was almost two years ago,” he confessed, and you can see the hesitation and aching disappointment creeping into his expression.

“When was the last time you had sex?” you asked boldly in return, not really caring to know if he’s clean, you know he is, but deep down you just wanted to know if he has someone in his life recently, despite knowing he is single.

“Two years ago.”

His answer desperately lingers in your mind. You have no idea that Yoongi hasn’t been sexually active.

You tried not to overreact, but this is news to you.

Yoongi is a very attractive man—no one can deny that, especially since he decided to grow his hair long. Anyone who looks at him can tell he’s a decent man: well-spoken, a gentleman, and financially stable for his age.

He’s a highly sought-after producer in the industry, collaborating left and right with well-known artists. He has his own apartment and his own car.

A very eligible bachelor that could easily be getting different girls every night if he wanted.

“Fuck! I’ll drop by the convenience store real quick.” Yoongi is about to get off the bed, panic creeping into his voice as he noticed you haven’t responded.

You grab his hand, stopping him.

“Hey, I’m okay with it. You’re not going anywhere,” your voice speaks desperation.

“You sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured,” he replied, his voice soothing your nerves.

“Yoongi, please…”

“Please what, baby?”

A playful smirk is back on his face upon hearing your desperate pleas.

“I can’t wait anymore… mhmm want you inside me.”

There is a shift in the air. The sexual tension between you grows thicker with every passing second.

Yoongi positions himself back between your legs. He lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder while the other rested against his hip.

He takes his still-hard cock, giving it a few lazy pumps until precum leaks from the tip, then aligns himself to your entrance. He spits onto you, the saliva landing directly on your clit, then uses the tip of his cock to spread it along your cunt as added lubrication.

“Relax for me, baby.”

He massages your clit a few times with his long digits before suddenly dipping three fingers into your leaking hole, pumping it aggressively a few times making sure you are prepped. A sultry whimper escapes you, followed quickly by soft grunts of frustration when he pulls them out just as suddenly, leaving you craving more.

He slowly pushes his cock into your hole, giving you time to adjust.

His cock is so fat forcing your tight walls to stretch around him, snug, slippery, and tight. The mix of pain and pleasure makes you gasp for air, while he’s biting his lip to keep himself from slamming deeper too fast.

Broken curses and series of moans of repeated, ‘yes, yes, yes’ fill the quiet of the room, your whimpers are high and breathy, while his are low, deep, almost turning into desperate grunts.

“Just a little more,” he grunts against your ear.

Your nails are digging to the back of his shoulders as you can feel the drag of every vein of his cock along your velvety walls until his length is fully sheathed inside you.

Yoongi stopped momentarily so you can fully adjust to the stretch. Your breaths are heavy as you feel the thick pressure settling deep in your belly as if your body was being filled too full.

You can’t help but to clench around him repeatedly when you become aware of a swollen spot on your belly where his cock bulges from inside of you.

He gently presses on the spot, sending extreme pleasure to your core.

“Okay to fuck you now, baby?” he asked, cocky and proud.

After a few eager nods from you, Yoongi starts moving—deliberate and slow. He pulls halfway out before thrusting fully back inside with force.

He notices the pain registering on your face as he rams into you, so he brings his thumb back to your clit, pressing against it, making sure to hit the bundle of nerves while drawing slow circles to distract you from the discomfort.

When he sees your expression shift from pain to pleasure, he takes it as a sign to quicken his pace.

Your cunt releases more wetness while Yoongi continues to play with your clit, making it easier for his cock to glide in and out of your tight hole. A feeling that makes him curse himself for how good it was.

His slow, deep thrusts soon turn into shorter, faster ones.

Yoongi fucks you with intention—strong and brutal. His eyes remain fixed on you, watching you lose yourself as he drives into your cunt again and again.

His hands move to grope your breasts, which bounces deliciously in sync with his thrusts.

All you can do is moan beneath him, screaming his name over and over as both pain and pleasure take over your body.

Maybe it’s the aphrodisiac. Maybe it’s the feelings you’ve hidden for him for so long. Either way, this is the best sex of your life.

Yoongi shifts his position, bringing both your legs onto his hips as you automatically wrap them around him. He bends forward to kiss your lips while continuing to fuck you.

His movements remain relentless and steady, shoving himself fully inside you each time, giving you some of his weight whenever his pelvis meets the lips of your cunt.

“Oh my god! Oh god, oh god—right there! Yes! Yes!”

You cry out in pleasure when Yoongi begins hitting your g-spot. Your nails further claw down his back, making him hiss at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

Losing your mind is an understatement.

“Yoongi, I’m gonna come—oh fuck! Don’t stop,” you choked out as warmth pools in your lower abdomen.

“Yes, come for me, baby. You deserve it.”

A few more direct thrusts against your g-spot sends you over the edge.

Yoongi feels your walls tighten and pulse around his cock, followed by a rush of warm liquid spilling from your cunt as he continues thrusting deeply and slowly—still rubbing your overly sensitive clit while you ride out your orgasm.

As your peak begins to fade, Yoongi quickens his pace once again, chasing his own climax.

His hips snap fast and short with brutal force while his lips nip and bite at your neck.

You noticed how loud he’s getting, moaning your name repeatedly and muttering broken curses in between as his thrusts become sloppy and uneven—a clear sign he’s close.

“Can I come inside, baby?” he asked, almost pleading, his face buried in the crook of your neck, voice low and breathless.

“Yes…” you answered back without hesitation, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your body.

“Y/N… baby…” he cooed between heavy breaths.

“Yes, Yoongi, yes… all you want.”

Yoongi cried out a long, guttural moan—the kind that made you squeeze your eyes shut because of how intensely arousing it sounds.

Still bucking his hips, you feel hot ropes of liquid shooting deep inside you. You also feel his teeth grazing the skin of your neck, careful enough not to hurt you but still sending delicious sensation through your body.

You absentmindedly bite your lower lip when you realize he’s coming more than the normal amount. His release begins spilling out of your cunt as he lazily keeps thrusting his spent cock, yet he still isn’t done.

It makes you wonder when was the last time he even touched himself.

A few moments later, Yoongi’s body fully collapses on top of you.

Your hand moves to the back of his head, slowly stroking his long hair as he keeps his face buried against your neck.

“Hell, did it really take me this long to risk everything for you?”

Yoongi’s words are clear—you’re sure you heard them right—but you still struggle to understand what he means.

You want to ask him. You want to know if there’s even the slightest chance that he likes you too.

But no words came out.

With his head resting near your chest, you wonder if he can hear how loudly your heart is beating right now.

The ray of sunlight hitting directly across your face slowly pulls you out from slumber. Your eyes flutter open, still heavy with exhaustion, and you attempt to shift your body away from the blinding light.

But a weight draped over your back makes it difficult to move.

Still half lost in the haze of the previous night, your mind slowly begins piecing things together. A heavy arm is wrapped securely around your waist, holding you close. At the same time, you become aware of a warm presence nestled against the back of your neck—steady breaths brushing softly against your skin.

Yoongi is spooning you from behind.

A small smile spreads across your lips. You have imagined something like this for years.

There has always been something about Yoongi that draws you to him—something quiet and magnetic that captured your attention long ago, back when you were still in high school, despite the age gap between you.

Through all your attempts to catch his attention over time, it is almost amusing that your brother, Namjoon, never once noticed that among all the people in his circle, you treated Yoongi differently.

Even while quietly admiring him from afar, you never stopped yourself from dating other people. Still, none of those relationships ever lasted very long.

Because, somewhere deep down, you have always been hoping for a chance with him.

And now, it is actually happening.

You feel Yoongi stir slightly behind you, his arm shifting just enough to loosen its hold. Taking the opportunity, you gently turn your body to face him.

“Good morning,” you greeted softly, smiling as you brush a few strands of his long bangs away from his face.

Instead of answering right away, Yoongi leans forward and presses a soft kiss against your forehead. Then another against the tip of your nose.

And finally, a brief peck on your lips.

Heat instantly rises to your cheeks.

“Feeling better now?” he asked with his bedroom voice, eyes still adjusting to the morning light filtering into the suite.

“Mhm,” you nod. Then, after a small pause, you add, “But I’m sore.”

A quiet chuckle escapes him.

“Can we stay like this for a while?” he murmured, pulling you a little closer against his chest.

Then quietly, “I’m not sure if I’ll still be able to hold you like this once I tell Namjoon what happened.”

You blink in surprise at his sudden openness.

Tilting your head slightly, you search his face.

“We don’t have to tell them what happened,” you suggested gently, hoping to ease whatever worry he might be feeling.

This time Yoongi looks directly at you. A small crease forms between his brows as he frowns slightly.

“I don’t date in secret, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, thinking you were suddenly hallucinating.

“DATE??”

Your sudden outburst startled him, and for a brief moment the confidence in his expression falters. He mentally curses himself for jumping ahead without properly asking you first.

“I thought you liked me—”

“You knew?!” you interrupted.

Yoongi nods sheepishly.

“Jungkook told me—”

“That fucker— I swear to God—”

“Baby…” Yoongi murmured softly, cutting off your mini rant with a calming tone as he pulled you again closer to his chest. You gladly snuggled against him.

“I’m sorry if I startled you. We can take it slow,” he mumbled, his gaze steady and sincere as he watched your reaction. “You know… get to know each other better before we start dating. Assuming your brother doesn’t kill me first when I tell him.”

You hold his gaze for a moment.

Then you shook your head.

“Fuck taking it slow—and fuck Namjoon. It’s my decision if I want to date you now,” you said firmly before leaning forward to place a few soft pecks on his lips.

A smile spreads across Yoongi’s face.

He shifts slightly, about to lean over you and deepen the kiss—

When suddenly the suite door swings open. Both of your heads snap toward the doorway.

Standing there is Jungkook, who very clearly has just woken up.

For a split second he freezes, eyes widening as he realizes he has just walked in on his older brother sharing a bed with someone.

“Shit!” Jungkook panicked, quickly stepping back out and pulling the door closed again.

Just seconds later, the door swings open once more—this time with added force.

“Y/N? What the hell?!” Jungkook blurted out in disbelief as he strides into the room and shuts the door behind him.

He stares at the two of you, clearly stunned by the sight.

Yoongi is already preparing to kick him out, but you instinctively pull the comforter higher around yourself, curling closer to Yoongi in embarrassment.

Your eyes follow Jungkook as he casually walks toward the bathroom.

The moment he disappears inside, you lean closer to Yoongi and whisper hurriedly into his ear.

“Yoongi… I’m still naked.”

Your face burns at the realization that Jungkook—your best friend—just saw you in bed with his brother, fully naked under the thick comforter, but he doesn’t know that, right?

“The hell do you want, Jungkook? Can you get out?” Yoongi called toward the bathroom, his tone calm despite the situation.

“Took you long enough, hyung,” Jungkook teases as he steps back out.

“Fuck you. Get out,” Yoongi barked, rolling his eyes, though you can see a restrained smile tugging at his lips.

“Okay, okay—I just needed this.” Jungkook raises a hand, showing the toothbrush and toothpaste he grabbed from the sink as he walks toward the door.

But before stepping out, he pauses dramatically.

A mischievous grin spreads across his face as he tilts his head back slightly, tongue poking on the inside of his cheeks cockily, hands resting on his hips.

“You’re so dead when Namjoon-hyung finds out,” he teased his brother with a laugh.

And then he disappears, closing the door behind him.

Silence settles in the room again. That’s when a realization quietly dawns on you.

The real reason Jungkook never once tried to make a move on you all these years is because he knows.

His brother, Yoongi, liked you too.

© 2026 toastynamgi. all rights reserved.

It sat somewhere under his ribs, dull and persistent, like a bruise he kept pressing without meaning to. The bar was too loud, full of overlapping voices, clinking glasses, bursts of laughter that came too easily for a random Thursday night. Someone had opened it that night, a friend of a friend, which meant half the room was familiar faces and the other half pretending to be. Jungkook stood in the middle of it, drink in hand, nodding along to a conversation he hadn’t been listening to for the past ten minutes.

He laughed when they laughed. Said “yeah” at the right time. Took a sip when there was a pause. But his mind was somewhere else entirely.

On you.

On his phone. On the last message he had sent that still sat there, unanswered.

He shifted his weight, pulling his phone out again without thinking, thumb already unlocking it like muscle memory. The screen lit up, and there it was… your chat, pinned, untouched, still with that stupid nickname he reserved only for you. His last message from earlier that afternoon:

Are you going tonight?

Delivered.

His jaw tightened slightly. It was stupid. Such a small thing. You were probably busy, or you hadn’t seen it, or you were ignoring him on purpose— which, honestly, would have made sense too. A lot of more sense than you actually replying. He exhaled through his nose, locking the phone again a second later, slipping it back into his pocket like it burned him.

“…and then he just left, like actually left, didn’t even say goodbye—”

Jungkook blinked, dragged back into the conversation mid-sentence. “What?”

His friend snorted. “You weren’t even here, man.”

“I was,” Jungkook said automatically, lifting his drink slightly. “Just tired.”

“Sure,” another one chimed in, eyeing him. “Or thinking about her.”

The word landed heavier than it should have.

Jungkook didn’t react immediately, just took another sip, slower this time. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” the first guy shrugged, leaning back against the bar. “You two were… you know.”

“Yeah,” someone else added, “everyone thought you’d last longer.”

Jungkook let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Good to know everyone had bets on it.”

There was a brief pause, the kind that filled with things people didn’t say out loud.

It had been a stupid fight. That was the worst part. Not something explosive, not cheating or lying or anything dramatic enough to justify how final it felt now. Just time. Or the lack of it. Work piling up, schedules not matching, you getting tired of asking for space in his life that should have already been yours.

You had argued about it before. Multiple times.

And every time, Jungkook had said the same thing: it’ll get better. I’ll make more time.

It didn’t. He didn’t.

And now you weren’t answering his texts. Which— fine. Okay. He got it. You were mad. You had every right to be. But there was something about the silence that felt… different that time. Not angry. Not temporary but final.

Final. That thought made something twist uncomfortably in his chest.

“Speak of the devil,” someone muttered.

Jungkook’s head lifted before he could stop himself. “What?”

His friend tilted his chin slightly toward the other side of the bar. “She’s here.”

For a second, Jungkook didn’t move. Then he turned. And there you were.

Across the room, near one of the high tables, surrounded by people he vaguely recognized. You were laughing at something someone said, head tilted back slightly, hair falling over your shoulder in a way he knew too well. There was a drink in your hand, your posture loose, comfortable, confidence that you always carry so well.

Like nothing was wrong. Like nothing had ended. Like you weren’t as hurt as he was.

Jungkook’s fingers tightened subtly around his glass.

“Not surprising,” one of his friends said. “She’s still friends with Sooka, right?” he was the one opening the bar.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Figures.”

Jungkook hummed faintly, but he wasn’t really hearing them anymore.

He was watching you, trying to figure something out he couldn’t quite name. You looked the same. Exactly the same. And somehow… not.

“Yo, Jungkook—”

He didn’t respond.

“—hey, are you even—”

“What?” he snapped, a little sharper than intended, dragging his gaze back to them.

His friend raised his hands slightly. “Relax. I was just asking if you wanted another drink.”

“I’m good.”

“You sure? You look like you need one.”

Jungkook almost said something back, but another voice cut in, lighter, distracted.

“Guys did you see the videos from last week?”

“What videos?”

“The party. Someone posted a bunch, they even got Kyung taking his shirt off.”

That caught Jungkook’s attention just enough.

“What party?” someone asked.

“Last Friday. The one at Minho’s place.”

“Oh, that one. Yeah, I heard it got messy.”

“It did,” the guy grinned, already pulling his phone out. “Look at this…”

He turned the screen around, and a small group leaned in. Jungkook didn’t, not at first. He was still half-looking across the room, still aware of where you were, what you were doing.

But then the phone got shoved closer to him.

“Look, look— this part…”

Jungkook sighed quietly, glancing down more out of obligation than interest. He had been at the party for ten minutes, when he didn’t find you he just left with Taehyung who had been eager to go back home and leave the place.

The video was exactly what he expected. Loud music, shaky camera, people dancing too close, laughing too hard. His friend taking his shirt off and making a fool of himself once again. Nothing important. Nothing he cared about. He was about to look away— and then he didn’t.

Because something in the background shifted.

Not the focus of the video. Not what the person filming intended. But a person he immediately recognized there. A person he could recognize in any place, in any clothes, in any setting.

You.

… And Taehyung.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed slightly, his attention snapping into place without warning.

The video kept playing, but he wasn’t watching anything else anymore. You were standing near the edge of the frame, half-obscured by other people, talking. Close. Too close for his liking. Taehyung leaned in in the counter and closer to you to say something, and you laughed… head dipping, shoulder brushing his.

A reaction he knew too well.

I was small, it was nothing. It shouldn’t have meant anything. But it did. Because he could recognize when you weren’t just talking to someone but entertaining them.

Jungkook straightened slightly. “Wait.”

“Hm?”

“Go back.”

His friend paused, confused. “What?”

“Go back,” Jungkook repeated, more focused now.

The guy rewound a few seconds. “This part?”

“Yeah.”

They watched it again.

This time Jungkook didn’t miss anything. The way Taehyung’s body angled toward you. The way you didn’t pull away. The ease of you entertaining his friend, flirting.

Jungkook’s jaw tightened.

“Oh, is that Taehyung?” someone shrugged. “He was at the party too, right? Didn’t he leave early?.”

Jungkook didn’t answer.

Because he knew that wasn’t entirely a lie. He left early, but he had arrived there early too.

“Show me more,” he said suddenly.

“What?”

“More videos. From that night.”

His friend frowned slightly. “Why?”

“Just show me.”

There was a brief hesitation, then a shrug. “Okay… I think there’s more on Kyung’s page. You know how he likes to post every party event.”

Jungkook didn’t wait. He was already pulling his own phone out, already opening the app, searching. The account came up quickly. Posts and highlights from every party his friend went to, even reposts, from last week, from different nights.

He scrolled. One story. Another. Nothing. Just crowds, drinks, music. His thumb moved faster. Scroll. Scroll. Scroll—

There.

Videos posted the weekend before. Same place, same lighting. He started watching it like he was a damn FBI agent looking for the most wanted criminal. Video after video and for a second it was nothing again, just people dancing, laughing, moving through the frame.

Then the camera shifted slightly to the last post, someone was talking about their favourite alcohol drinks like an influencer. And in the background—

Taehyung.

Pushing someone out of the bathroom where you were standing inside.

Jungkook’s breath caught, just barely.

The movement was quick, almost easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it. A hand on a shoulder, a shove, a door opening. The guy stumbled out, clearly confused, saying something the video didn’t catch. And then Taehyung stepped inside, the door closing behind him with intention.

Jungkook didn’t move. He didn’t even blink for a minute. The video kept playing, but it didn’t matter anymore. Because suddenly, everything connected in a way that made his stomach drop.

You.

The first video. The way you had looked that night. The silence afterwards. Taehyung acting weird lately. Taehyung saying he didn’t know if you were there. The bathroom.

His grip tightened around his phone.

“What’s up?,” someone muttered beside him, noticing over his shoulder. “Did you find something…?”

Jungkook didn’t answer.

Because he did. The thought was already there, fully formed, sharp and ugly and impossible to ignore. Something had happened. And it wasn’t just with anyone. It was him, Taehyung, one of his best friends.

Slowly, almost mechanically, Jungkook lifted his head. Looked across the bar again and found you immediately. But this time you weren’t alone. You were standing close to Taehyung. Talking like nothing had ever happened, or like everything already had.

Anger started growing in his veins.

Jungkook couldn’t stop looking at you two.

It was worse now that he knew— or thought he knew. Before, there had been doubt, something he could twist into something else, something harmless. A coincidence, a bad angle. A misunderstanding. Now there was none of that. Now there was just the image burned into his head. Taehyung’s hand on that door, the way he had stepped inside like he belonged there. Like he had a reason to be in a room with you.

Like you were already waiting for him.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched so hard it started to ache, but he barely noticed. His grip around his phone tightened until his knuckles went pale, the edges digging into his palm. Across the bar, you were still there. Still grinning. Still leaning slightly toward Taehyung like nothing in the world had shifted.

Like you hadn’t just—

His stomach turned, something sharp and ugly twisting inside him.

Of course Taehyung had tried something. Jungkook wasn’t stupid. He had known for a long time. The way Taehyung looked at you sometimes… too long, too interested, too aware. The jokes that leaned a little too close to flirting. The way he always somehow ended up near you in group settings.

Jungkook had noticed.

He just hadn’t thought— No. That wasn’t true. He had thought about it. He just hadn’t believed you would ever give in.

And that… that was the part that made his chest feel tight now. Not that Taehyung wanted you. That was expected. It was that you might have wanted him back. That you might have let him have you the way he once did. That you had broken up with Jungkook and, instead of missing him, instead of needing space or time or anything he had convinced himself you needed—

You had gone to Taehyung.

His best friend.

Jungkook let out a quiet, sharp breath, dragging a hand down his face. This was insane. It could still be nothing. It could still…

He looked back up and saw the way Taehyung leaned closer to you again. Saw the way you didn’t move away like usually did. The way you were still there, still talking to him.

That was it. Something snapped clean in his chest. He was moving before he fully registered it, pushing himself off the bar, barely hearing someone call his name behind him. His steps were quick, direct, cutting through the crowd without hesitation, his focus locked on one thing only. On you, on him.

You noticed him too late.

By the time your eyes flicked up and met his, he was already there, already too close, already reaching for you. His hand closed around your arm, firm, unyielding, fingers digging in just enough to make you frown in confusion.

“Jungkook— what—”

“Shut up.”

It wasn’t a request.

“What the fuck—?”

Over his shoulder, his eyes flicked back briefly, locking with Taehyung’s for half a second. There was no confusion there. No question, just something dark and warning. “We’ll talk later,” Jungkook said, voice low but sharp enough to cut through.

You barely had time to react before he was pulling you away, out of the conversation, out of Taehyung’s reach, through the crowd toward the back hallway. The music got muffled the further you went, replaced by the dull echo of footsteps and your voice trying to keep up with him.

“Jungkook, what the hell— let go!—”

He didn’t. Didn’t even slow down.

Then he was turning away again, pulling you the rest of the way down the hall until he found the first door, shoving it open without checking and dragging you inside.

It was small. Bare. Some kind of storage office, maybe for cleaning supplies. A desk shoved in the middle of the place, a chair in a corner, shelves with random things stacked unevenly.

The door slammed shut behind you.

And suddenly it was quiet. The music barely making it inside.

Jungkook let go of your arm, but only because he needed the space, needed a second to breathe before he did something worse. His chest was rising and falling too fast, his hands flexing at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them.

You were already moving. “Are you insane?” you snapped, turning toward the door. “What is wrong with you—”

“Did you fuck him?”

The words cut through the room so fast they almost didn’t register. You froze immediately. Actually froze. Your hand paused on the handle, your whole body going still for just a second too long.

And that was enough.

Jungkook laughed, but there was nothing amused about it. It came out sharp, disbelieving, almost breathless. “Wow.”

You turned back slowly. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he shot back immediately, stepping closer. “Don’t ask? Don’t notice? Don’t put two fucking things together?”

“You don’t get to come in here and—”

“Did you?” he cut you off again, louder this time, the restraint slipping. “It’s a simple question.”

“Do you think I would fuck—?”

“You better not fucking lie to me,” his voice was demanding, rough, scary.

There was a silence. Your jaw tightened. “It’s none of your business if I did.”

That answer hit worse than anything else.

Jungkook’s expression shifted, something darker settling in. “None of my—” he repeated, shaking his head slightly like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Right. Yeah. Of course.”

You crossed your arms, defensive now, already pulling away from the conversation. “We broke up, Jungkook.”

“Yeah,” he snapped. “I’m aware.”

“So what I do— who I see—”

“Who you see?” he laughed again, sharper this time. “You’re seeing him now? Is this a fucking joke?”

“I’m not seeing him and I didn’t—” You took a step toward the door again. “I’m not doing this with you. We’re done.”

He moved faster, hand slamming hard against the door before you could reach it, blocking your way completely. The sound echoed in the small room, making you flinch just slightly.

“Yes, you are.”

“Move.”

“No.”

“Jungkook—”

“Answer me.”

Your eyes flashed. “You don’t even fucking care. If this is an ego thing then no— I didn’t fuck him.”

That made him pause. Just for a second.

Because the answer was right there, sitting in his chest, heavy and undeniable and humiliating in a way he didn’t want to put into words. Because it shouldn’t matter. Even if it was an ego thing it shouldn’t matter. Because you weren’t his anymore. Because he had lost that right. And still—

“I care,” he said, voice lower now, rougher, “and not because an ego thing.” You didn’t say anything. And that silence stretched. “You could’ve picked anyone,” he went on, stepping closer again, his voice tightening with every word. “Anyone. And you go for him?”

“I didn’t ‘go for’ anyone—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped. “I saw the videos.”

“Videos?,” you snorted, humourless. “What— me and him fucking?.”

“No, you and him in that fucking party last week.” That made your expression flicker. A small and quick motion, but he caught it. You didn’t say anything snarky. “Yeah,” he said, nodding slowly. “That’s what I thought.”

You exhaled sharply, frustration bleeding through now. “It was a party, Jungkook. People talk, people drink—”

“People don’t end up in bathrooms together for no reason.”

The words landed hard. Your lips parted slightly, but nothing came out.

Jungkook stepped even closer, until there was barely any space left between you, his voice dropping into something quieter, more dangerous.

“Was he better than me?”

Your head snapped up. “What?”

“Was he better,” he repeated, slower this time, like he wanted you to hear every word, “or were you just that desperate to get over me?”

“Fuck you,” you shot back immediately, shoving at his chest. “You don’t get to say that—”

He caught your wrist before you could pull away, grip tight, not letting you go this time.

“Then what was it?” he demanded. “What— one week and you’re already— what? Letting someone else touch you? Spreading your legs for my best friend—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Why?” he pushed. “Does it make it more real if we say it out loud?”

That did it. Something in your expression shifted, anger breaking through whatever restraint you had left. “You don’t get to do this,” you said, voice shaking now, louder. “You don’t get to act like you care after everything.”

“I do care—”

“Then where were you?” you shot back. “Where were you when I was asking for time? When I was asking for you to show up? You didn’t care then you don’t care now. You just don’t want me to move on.”

“That’s not—”

“You don’t get to ignore me for months and then suddenly decide you’re entitled to know who I’m with.”

The words hit him hard. Jungkook’s grip on your wrist tightened slightly, his jaw clenching again. “So this is what this is?” he said, quieter now, but no less intense. “You’re proving a point?”

“No,” you snapped. “I’m not proving anything to you because I don’t give a fuck about you anymore. We’re done.”

And those words landed between you like something solid. Like it was final. Jungkook stared at you for a second, something flickering across his face, anger, disbelief, something else underneath it that he didn’t let fully surface.

“Right,” he said finally, voice flat. “And now you’ll go to him?.” You didn’t answer. And that silence… It drove him insane. “Say it,” he pushed, stepping closer again, backing you up until the back of your shoulders brushed the wall. “Say it and I’ll drop it.”

“I don’t owe you—”

“Say it. Say that you’ll go to him. Say you don’t want me anymore.”

Your breathing hitched slightly, your back pressing harder against the wall as he closed the distance completely, his presence overwhelming in the small space.

“Jungkook—”

“Say it,” he repeated, softer this time, but somehow worse. “Tell me you want him.”

You swallowed. Your eyes flickered to his mouth for half a second— barely noticeable. But he saw it.

And that was it.

That was all it took, something in him snapped completely. His hand came up to your jaw, rough, not gentle, tilting your face up toward his as he leaned in, the last inch of space disappearing in a second.

And when he kissed you it wasn’t soft, it wasn’t hesitant. It was angry, desperate. Messy in a way that felt like he had been holding it in for too long and didn’t know how to do it any other way anymore. Jungkook’s lips smashed against yours like he’d been starving for it, like he couldn’t breathe without tasting you. His hands were everywhere— grabbing your waist, sliding up your back, threading through your hair— claiming, desperate, unrelenting.

Every thought he had was sharp and brutal: the thought of you with someone else, Taehyung’s stupid smug grin, the way he got to touch you, the way he got to hear your sweet sounds. The way he probably got to taste you and kiss you like that… it made him furious, desperate.

He pressed closer, chest against yours, like if he didn’t physically own you, he’d lose you entirely.

When he pulled back just slightly, just enough to see your face, his eyes were wild, dark with jealousy. “Was he better than me?” His voice was low, tight with anger, but trembling under the weight of his desire.

You froze. You opened your mouth, closed it, said nothing, tried to pull back. But he roughly grabbed your jaw with his fingers, making you pout slightly and tilting your head toward him, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Answer me,” he snapped, desperation sharpening his tone. “Was he better?”

Your silence was fuel to him, making something in his chest twist, making him kiss you harder, more urgently, as if trying to erase every trace of that possibility. He pressed his forehead to yours, breathing fast, whispering against your lips, “I’ll fucking show you… I’ll show you exactly who’s better.”

“Don’t— ”

“Now you talk?” He shook his head angrily. “You better keep your fucking mouth shut if you’re not answering right.”

Jungkook didn’t let you protest, kissing you hardly again.

He knew two things now: 1. He was going to fuck you senseless, and 2. He was going to kill Kim Taehyung after he was done with you.

His hands didn’t stop, roaming possessively, memorizing your body the way his mind wouldn’t let him forget. He kissed you like he was claiming you, like the second he let go, you might disappear into someone else’s arms forever. Every push, every pull, every heated second was coated with the anger, obsession, and need he couldn’t control. He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t kind. He wasn’t thinking. He was Jungkook— possessive, furious, and completely undone by the idea that you weren’t his anymore.

No, no— you were. You were his. He was going to show you. He was going to remind you.

You were still his. Jungkook was going to erase every trace of him.

Even as your lips parted and you tried to get words out, he silenced you with another sharp, hungry kiss, letting his hands and body speak for the fury he couldn’t contain. His mind spun with every memory, every image of you with anyone else, twisting into one single, obsessive thought: you’re mine, and I’ll make sure you never forget it.

“Get on your knees.”

It wasn’t a request. Jungkook’s voice was hard and rough, he was commanding you to do as he said so. You still opened your mouth to say something but he immediately pushed you down. His hand on your shoulder making you crunch down until you were on your knees.

“It wasn’t a fucking question.”

You’ve never seen Jungkook angry like that and somehow it just made your body vibrate with anticipation.

You were on your knees in the middle of a dark janitor’s closet, in a new bar, wood floor rough against your bare skin, heart hammering so loud you swore it echoed. Jungkook’s eyes glanced down at you. Dark and hard. His gaze moving at your glossy wet lips, and he had to stop himself to kiss you again by putting his thumb against your lips instead.

“Open,” you did. And he forced his thumb in. You gripped his forearm, and he forced himself forward, pressing his thumb down on your tongue so you would suck a it, almost making you gag. “Yeah? Miss having a real dick?. Couldn’t even spent a month without having to look for it?”

He pushed his thumb out of your mouth, his hands going straight to unbuckle his jeans. You looked up as he started pumping himself over his clothes, getting harder at the sight of you.

“I didn’t,” you said to him.

Jungkook started breathing harder. Hope growing in his chest. “You didn’t fuck him?.”

“No, I did. I just didn’t have to look for it. Taehyung find me.”

You did fuck him.

Jungkook was definitely going to kill him.

And he was going to make you choke on it.

Jungkook’s jaw tightened. His gaze darker than before. He was so horny and so angry it was going in pair. He moved his underwear down, his cock immediately jumping out to hit his abs. He looked so delicious like that, ready to make you do whatever he wanted to. Ready to make you regret even thinking about other man that wasn’t him. He could imagine you kneeling like that for Taehyung and that thought only made him want to go harder on you.

“You know what I didn’t miss? That fucking smart mouth.” His thumb stroked your cheek, almost tender, before he guided your head forward. “Open wide. Gonna remind you how to take a real man.”

He didn’t wait, didn’t prepare himself. He just wanted to make you feel him. He just wanted to be close to you in any way, remind you he could still make his way into you.

His fingers pressed hard in your cheeks, making you open your mouth and he slide in slow, letting you feel every inch stretching your jaw. The head popped past your lips with a wet sound, thick and hot on your tongue. You tasted skin and salt and him, his veins dragging along the flat of your tongue as he pushed deeper, inch by inch disappearing into the wet heat of your mouth.

He let your cheeks go. You whined around him, the sound muffled and pathetic, and it made him groan. His hips finally rolled forward, shallow at first, feeding you more until the head nudged the back of your throat. Your eyes watered instantly, lashes clumping, but you didn’t push him away. You just blink up at him, tears spilling, remembering how it felt to take him.

“Yeah, just like that.” Jungkook nodded slowly, his fingers sinking into your hair. “Gonna use what is mine.”

He started fucking your mouth in earnest then. First slow, controlled strokes that let you feel every ridge, every vein sliding over your tongue. Your hands gripped his thighs, nails digging into the expensive fabric of his jeans that were in the middle of his thighs, trying to steady yourself while he used your throat like it was his.

But even when he was fucking your throat Jungkook couldn’t forget that you were like this with another man. That you decided to do this with someone else.

It fucked him up the fact that you were actually moving on, able to fuck another person without feeling like you were betraying him. It pissed him off that he couldn’t stop thinking about you. That he couldn’t ever stop thinking about you. Even if he was angry, even if you were to fuck someone else tomorrow. He would stuffed your throat and fuck you senseless until you understood that no one could ever compare to him. He would be behind you, reminding you that every day if he had to.

He wondered if you even knew what it felt like to be this crazy over someone. He wasn’t even able to phantom another person doing that for you— you wouldn’t have enough room in your mind to think about him if that were the case, right?.

Jungkook pulled away from you. You coughed slightly, eyes filled with tears. He didn’t even spare you a second gaze before taking a seat in the old chair next to the wall, spreading his legs.

“Come here. Wanna see you crawl.”

You shouldn’t.

Jungkook didn’t know if you were asking for forgiveness, you don’t seem like it. You actually didn’t even look guilty for fucking Taehyung so he didn’t know why you still played with him. Crawling back to him like you were still his. But he wasn’t going to complain, he was going to take whatever he could out of you. He’ll take whatever you want from him, even if it was playing a part to get you off.

“Kook—”

“You know what I like.”

You positioned yourself between his legs. Your hand moved the base of his cock, squeezing it slightly. Jungkook didn’t move, watching you with boredom. You looked down at him. His veins bulged under the skin, thick and ridged, pulsing when you gave another tentative squeeze. One fat vein snaked right along the underside, throbbing harder every time your thumb brushed over it.

“You can do better,” Jungkook muttered, voice low and strained, one big hand cupping the back of your head.

He was looking so composed except for the way his cock twitched in your grip and the bead of precum already leaking from the slit.

You stuck out your tongue, slowly licking from the base to the head of his cock. Jungkook’s nails gripped the chair hard. Your lips kissed his mushroom tip and he was done for. He was sure that he will kill anyone who ever thinks has the right to touch you ever again.

You licked the head over and over like it was some damn popsicle. Jungkook let out a low sigh deep inside his chest. His hips rising uncontrollably, spreading his legs further for you, hand gently caressing your head.

“Take me inside your mouth,” his quiet command had your eyes fluttering up at him. He wanted to kiss you so bad but he knew you didn’t deserve it. Looking all dolled up, with runny mascara from your tears, and flushed cheeks from your nasty doing. Did you dress like that for Taehyung? Did you think you were going to end up fucking him tonight?. “Open wide— yes, yea’ just like that—“ Jungkook groaned watching you suck his fat tip into your mouth, tongue circling his slit.

“I can—”

“Shut up,” he roughly guided you down again. “Shut the fuck up and take sum’ore, nghh—“ His other hand pushed his loose strands back, playing with his lip piercing to prevent the noises threatening to come out. “Fuck,” his back arched slightly, head thrown back as he gripped the chair. “Yeah, meant to be like this. On your knees just for me— ngh, shit. You piss me off so bad. Did he— did he get you like this too?.”

“He didn’t,” you finally answered, innocently glancing up at him like you weren’t smothering his cock like it was your favourite dessert and you weren’t talking about how his best friend fucked you.

Weirdly, that statement made Jungkook feel better.

“Good. That pretty mouth is only mine.” You kissed again his oozing tip before swallowing him. “That’s right, fuckin’ mine. Takin’ me, just me— Say it.” He grabbed your hair, pulling you away to make you look at him without his cock in your mouth. “Say you’re mine.”

“Make me,” you breathed out before sticking your tongue again, licking his tip.

Jungkook clenched his teeth, “you fuckin’ whore,” his abs tensed even more as you picked up the pace, gagging occasionally, but still stroking his base at the same speed. His eyes struggled to stay open, the pleasure making his mind foggy as you choked more of his cock into your tight hot mouth. “Only mine, mine. Get it in your fucking head— shit, shit, f-fuck,” Jungkook stammered, jaw loosening as his abs flexed. the sound alone had you choking a bit as a moan left your throat.

He tugged your head, a low grunt escaping from deep in his chest when you started whining.

“Gonna have your throat stuffed like this for weeks so you fucking understand who you belong to,” he bit his lip, slowly thrusting his hips into your mouth. You gagged even more but remained in the mission of sucking him dry, barely whining around him as you gripped his thighs. “Dumb girl.”

Another moan threatened to slip past his lips, he let it out. His other hand pressed a palm against your forehead, brushing your sweat with his thumb.

Your tongue swiped against that one vein that sent immediate jerks throughout his body. “Wait, wait— fuckin’ shit. Will come inside you not in your mouth.”

You pulled off, gasping for air. Jungkook’s head falling back slightly. You were so good for him. Once again, your tongue swiped against the sensitive vein. “The fuck did I tell you,” he pulled from your hair roughly to keep you away from his cock. You breathed heavily. Your cheeks flushed, mouth open and panting as sticky strings of spit and pre cum connected your bottom lip to his drooling tip.

Jungkook thought how you looked the prettiest like that.

He groaned when his tongue collided with yours, kissing you hard again. Hot and desperate and aching to be further inside you than he could get. Jungkook wanted you to choke on him, to feel and think nothing but him, and even that won’t be a tenth of how he felt for you. He wanted you to see it, to realize how bad you’ve got him.

But he also wanted to put in your place.

His mind couldn’t stop imagine scenarios where Taehyung was in his place. Touching you, feeling you, talking sweet and nasty things into your ear, tasting you like that. It made his heart stopped, his veins getting warmer, his mind clouded in anger and desperation.

Jungkook pushed you to the desk, feet dragging the chair behind him. His hands moved your skirt to your hips and he quickly made you sit in the cold wood, opening your legs to discover what he missed the most. What was his, what he needed to remind who it belonged to. He put himself between your legs, panties already soaked. Even as your chest rose and fell, you held yourself up, letting him put your feet on the edge of the desk and spread your legs apart completely.

His cock, colored in a deeper shade of wisteria with protruding veins woven around, slid on the thin layer of your dampened panties. Your thighs were parted even more with his obstinate hands, having you in full view.

Your cotton panties were too wet, clinging on to you, even more so due to him caressing and pressing it on your skin with the help of his shaft to vividly showcase the lining of your cunt. A string of thick pre-cum on his slit, dispersed itself on the wetness of your panties. “hm, dripping for me already,” he uttered through clenched teeth, rubbing the underside of his length on to your clothed folds. “yeah, feel this huh? Fucking mine. She’s crying for me.”

“S’ good, Kook,” you whined.

“Yea?” You let out a visceral moan when his tip nudged your clit with a hard motion. His cockhead traced the outline of your cunt. “Bet he couldn’t make you feel like this, huh. Thinks he can get away with takin’ what’s mine— shit, gonna fucking murder that bastard.”

“F-fuck, fuck—”

His plump head rolled over your aching clothed bud. It was messy and sticky, Jungkook started scrawling out the letters of his name against and around your clit. Whispering with it too, “Mhm, keep making those pretty sounds for me. Look how wet and ready you are. Throbbing for me. I know how much you missed me.” He muttered, not talking to you but your pussy. “Miss you too, pretty” Jungkook gave your cunt a soft tap that left the air filled with a wet plop! “Never letting you go again. Gonna keep you busy and full all the time.”

Jungkook pulled away, falling to the chair. Rough palm caressing your thighs before he started biting them.

“Kook—”

“Next time you wanna open your legs for a dumb fucking loser you better think twice.” He said, eyes dark as he looked at your panties and your cute wet mound sticking to the material. His thumb stroking your inner thigh. “Will fuck this pussy again and again until you understand she’ll never not be mine.”

Jungkook easily hooked a finger and slid your panties to the side, leaning down, tongue sticking out as he licked a wet strip up your sweet cunt.

And before you could even properly moan he was wrapping his arms around your thighs, shoving his face even deeper making you jolt and whimper loudly.

Jungkook’s eyes rolled back. He didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of him enjoying that so much but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to show you why you would never get away from him, why he would never let you go. He didn’t want you to think about another man ever again, didn’t like the thought that he was so stupid to almost let you go. He didn’t like the fact that you were about to leave him. The fact that you got so close to move on from him that you let another man fucked you.

He hated it. He hated it so much.

His teeth bit down your clit softly, making you sob at the painfully delicious feeling. Your cunt was practically pouring with arousal as he shoved his lips back in. Jungkook couldn’t believe he spent weeks without putting his mouth between your legs. He should’ve thrown you in a private place and fuck you dumb before. He shouldn’t have let you walk away so easily.

He thought how he’ll never do it again. He’ll never let you go like that. He’ll never let you even think about it.

The sweet taste of your juices had him moaning against you. He was about to pull away to fuck you properly but you didn’t let him. “S’ close— Kook, please,” your nails dug into the back of his neck, forcing him to continue eating you out.

If he wanted too, he could pull away easily but having you force his head between your thighs had him going feral, grateful you needed him that bad. He wanted so badly to make you go dumb, that the only thing you could think of was him and his touch. Him making you feel good, him touching you in the parts you needed him the most.

Jungkook dragged his tongue up slow, circling your clit with the tip before sucking it into his mouth hard enough to make your back arch off the desk. You slapped a hand over your own mouth to muffle the whimper.

He licked you like he had been waiting to all day. Desperately and deep, tongue flattening, dragging, nosing up against your clit while his hands gripped your thighs to keep you wide open and wobbling. He was not gentle. He was eating you to make a point, moaning into your cunt while your fingers claw his hair and your mouth opened around a pathetic sound you didn’t mean to make.

“Messy little whore,” he said looking at you, tongue dragging a slick stripe through your folds like he was eating his plate clean, “should make you say sorry with your legs open.”

He stopped.

You whined, so close to your release it made you almost cry in frustration, “no, no, no— please, kook—”

“Yea? Think begging will work now?” Jungkook stood up, messily cleaning your juice from his jaw and nose with his shirt before looking at you. “Say it.”

“W-what?” you frowned confused.

“Say you’r mine,” he said again. His hand move to your cunt, brushing his fingers against your clit.

“Kook,” you whined.

Jungkook lose his patience. Your sopping cunt continued to leak as he teased you more and more, and it was the most satisfying sight in the world to see you shake with need beneath him. “What? you’re not mine now?. Wan’ me to fuck you now so then you’ll jump to the next guy who can fuck you open in whatever place you want, huh?” Your hole fluttered, practically begging him to put something inside, but he only dragged his finger up to your clit to tease you there too. “Fucking needy girl. Who else you wanna fuck? Another friend of mine?”

“Only you,” you finally said, hips rubbing in his long rough fingers looking for more. “Swear only you,” you admitted sweetly.

“I don’t believe you now.”

“Swear— I swear,” you nodded frivolously, voice broken. “Only yours, I’m only yours, baby.”

Baby.

You were a manipulative horny bitch.

Jungkook hated how much he could love you.

“Yea’ that’s right. Just mine.”

Before you knew it he was putting you down the desk and turning you around. Then suddenly pressed you down until your chest was flush against the desk. Skirt rolled up to your hips, cheek pressed to the cold wood. He got rid of your panties really quickly, bringing them up to his nose to inhale your sweet juices. It made his cock harden even more, pre cum leaking.

His fingers quickly found his way to your hot cunt, fingering you really roughly, intensifying his thrusts to hear you yelp in pain under him.

“Need me to stretch out that tight hole, get you ready for a real cock,” he muttered. “Or not?. Maybe needy whores like you don’t need this, right? Should fucked you dry the moment I closed that door.”

It didn't take long for him to replace his fingers with his cock.

In one hard and fast motion he was inside you. Jungkook didn’t care whether you were struggling to take him right, didn’t care whether your sultry cunt was bulging with the size of him already. He only wanted to make you feel him, to make you suffer a little for all the shit you made him go through.

Jungkook slid his fat cock until it was barely in your cunt, mushroom tip caught by the suctioning ring of muscle inside of you. Then he bottomed out, fucking you a little faster.

“Mmh,” you whined. Eyes filling with tears by the way he was fucking you. “Jungkook—”

“Shut up and take it,” his thrusts were precise and sharp, big cock stretching out your cunt to his size. “Sweet pussy made for me. Wanted me to keep you like this, right?” He slammed harder into you. “Need to keep you like this so you won’t go spreading your legs to anyone who gives you a little bit of attention.”

“Nghh…” He hit one spot that made you finally sob in pleasure. Jungkook smiled, hitting it again and again until you were crying, “w-wait, wait—”

His cock was thick and hot, stretching you open with every slow, deliberate roll of his hips, and you were shaking underneath him, thighs trembling, breath hitching into little broken sobs. He continued fucking you so deep and hard it was making your legs shook in pleasure and back arched in need.

Too much, it was too much. You could feel the high building slowly in your tummy.

Your hands searched for his leg, your hips moving closer to the desk so you could pull away from him just for a second of how intense it was becoming everything.

“F-fuck, yes, yes,” he exhaled hard through his nose.

Jungkook didn’t let you.

He grabbed your hands with one of his, pressing it to your back. His other hand quickly moving your right leg on top of the desk so he could fuck you deeper. You cried out when he slammed harder into you. “Kook—”

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

His weight dropped, his chest pressing to you back to keep you in place. His hips snapped forward harder than before, burying every last inch so deep your eyes rolled and your mouth fell open on a silent scream.

“I’m not letting you go ever again,” he muttered, voice rougher now. “You’re gonna take it. Isn’t that what you wanted? I’ll keep you like this every fucking minute, so full of me you won’t be able to think about anyone else.”

“S’ too much, Jungkook.” You sobbed. “Please, p-please too much.”

He didn’t care. He just wanted to show you he can and will fuck you dumb. That he will make you like this everytime you think about leaving him ever again. Every time you think about the possibility of seeing another man.

Shit. That thought just pissed him off even more.

“Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, i’m y-yours.”

So dumb. You were getting so stupid for his cock it made his chest filled with pride.

Jungkook knew you could have anyone you wanted. He knew you could find an asshole who could treat you better and give you more time than his demanding career allowed him. But he was greedy, he didn’t want you to find someone else. Jungkook was better than any other guy anyway, he loved you more, he treat you nicely, he fucked you deeper, spread you wider on his fat cock. He was the only one for you.

But he needed you to think that too.

“Tell me you’re my girl,” his voice was softer this time, even if he was fucking you roughly. “Tell me that you love me.”

You obeyed, sputtering the words back as your cunt squished around him. Jungkook didn’t know if you were conscious enough to be aware of what were you saying or if you even meant it— but it was enough for him.

But then you said it.

“‘m sorry,” you whispered, rolling your hips to suck his cock deeper in your drooling cunt. Not becuase you felt like it but becuase you wanted to show him you could take him even in that dumb state of mind, show him how good you were behaving for him

Jungkook let a long sigh, slowly feeling a little less angrier than before.

You were still his. He knew it.

“Fuck you,” he barked with not real hurt behind it “Knew you were trouble. Should’ve stayed away from you.”

“Nghh…” He rolled his hips. Grinding drag outward that emptied your head completely. He felt that shift inside him, you felt the thick drag of his cock against your walls, and your cunt clenched greedily around him. “You’re mine too.”

“W-what?,” his hips stuttered.

“Y-you’re mine too.”

“Oh,” he said softly, like that answered something. “Greedy girl. Always want everything to be yours.”

“Kook,” you whined.

“There you go,” he murmured, starting to move faster again. Deep, rolling thrusts. perfect full thrusts, each one pushing the air out of you on the way in. You felt every vein, every inch, your slick making it obscenely loud in the small closet. “taking me s’ well, aren’t yeah?”

“Kook, say it,” you cried out again.

Jungkook didn’t want to. He didn’t want to give up so easily. He knew you knew he was head over heels for you. He knew you were just doing this to watch him become a pathetic man of himself for you. You knew he was yours, he was completely and ridiculously yours. He would cut his fingers and shot himself in the head if it wasn’t that way. But he hated how much power you had over him. Hated how you could make a mess out of him with some pretty words and those sweet eyes.

He hated you— No, no he didn’t— He loved you. He loved you so much it was pathetic.

Pathetic. So pathetic by the fact he was trying to show you he was better than his best find so you wouldn’t leave him.

One big hand slide up, covered your mouth completely. His palm warm, fingers splayed wide so your muffled whimpers vibrated right into his skin. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t hurt you— just hold you, kept every word and every needy little sound locked behind his hand while he started fucking you in long, punishing strokes.

Two fingers found your clit immediately: swollen, oversensitive, throbbing and he didn’t tease you, just rubbed firm, tight circles.

Your whole body jerked under him, back arching uselessly because there was nowhere to go. He was too heavy, too deep, too everywhere. Your cunt clamped down so hard he groaned, low and wrecked— and his rhythm stuttered for half a second before he fucked you even harder.

“Mmphmm.”

“Uh?,” Jungkook moaned in your ear. “Shit, takin’ me so well, pretty girl. Gonna fill you up. Make you full of myself.” He pressed a hand in your tummy, making you both feel how deep he was. You cried out at the feeling. “Gonna make you walk with my cum inside you every place we go— shit, yea. Like that? squeezing s’ tight.” Jungkook was gone, mumbling words he didn’t even realize he was saying. Your cunt feeling so good around him it was making him go dumb too. “F-fuck, fuck… gonna keep this pussy full of my cum so when— when you open your legs for another man he’ll see who you fucking belong to.”

You could only sob into his hand, nodding frantically, thighs quivering, toes curling, whole body wound so tight you thought you might break.

“Mine, mine, mine. Ya’ mine.” Jungkook whined, hips stuttered. “I’m yours— yours. I’m yours too, baby.”

You shattered so hard your vision whited out for two seconds, back bowing slightly, cunt spasming violently around his length while you sobbed silently into his palm. He didn’t stop fucking you through it. He kept that same brutal pace, drawing it out until you were limp and twitching and almost drooling against his hand.

His orgasm didn’t take too long to arrive after yours, He came hot inside your folds, thick ropes of cum all inside you. And it was so good that he wanted to cry, filling you up, making you his again. He continued fucking you through his high, didn’t let any of his cum go to waste and fucked himself deep inside you.

His cock sore and softening inside you, cum dribbling onto your nub and painting your cunt with his load. It felt sticky and dirty. But it was his.

The overstimulation hit like a freight train and you were crying into his palm, tears slipping down your temples, thighs trying to snap shut but his weigh kept you spread wide.

Jungkook moved his hand from your mouth to your jaw, still on top of you in that desk, he tilted your head to press his lips on yours. A uncomfortable position but he didn’t care, he just wanted to kiss you badly. He kissed you deeper like he wanted to engraved himself on you. He was desperate to keep you there with him, to keep you forever. He wanted to keep you in that moment forever, afraid of letting you go.

“Mine,” he said one last time.

He rolled his hips one las time, just once, slow, hard and deep, making sure you felt every inch of him in inside you. Just to remind you who was the one who got you like that, spread for him. And just to remind you he was yours too.

well there’s that…

Possessive girlfriends checking phones, girls crying in club bathrooms because some mediocre man looked at another woman for too long, couples fighting over things that ultimately meant nothing. You used to watch things like that happen with mild embarrassment, wondering how anyone could let themselves become so consumed by another person that a simple interaction could ruin their entire mood.

And yet there you were.

Standing backstage with a makeup sponge in your hand, trying not to feel irrationally irritated over a joke Namjoon had made less than ten minutes ago. Not even a real joke, barely a conversation.

One of the members had mentioned the sign in the crowd— a clever one with double meaning —and the whole thing had immediately spiraled into teasing because Namjoon’s reaction had apparently already gone viral online before the concert was even over. Someone joked about bringing NDAs back. Namjoon laughed. The conversation moved on.

That should’ve been the end of it. Instead, the thought had been sitting beneath your skin ever since, hot and ugly and impossible to ignore.

Not sadness. God, no. You weren’t sad. If anything, you were annoyed… annoyed that random women thought they could get his attention so easily. Annoyed that he even entertained it for a second. Annoyed because some stupid, deeply narcissistic part of you genuinely believed no one should’ve been able to hold his attention the way you did.

Which was insane considering Namjoon wasn’t yours, never had been.

You two had never even discussed whatever this thing between you actually was. Months ago, one drunken night had turned into another, then another after that, until eventually sleeping together became as natural as breathing. Neither of you asked for more. Neither of you pulled away either. It settled into something dangerously comfortable.

You worked around him constantly, which meant there were too many late nights, too many lingering touches, too many moments where he’d look at you like he knew something about you nobody else did. Somewhere along the way, your body started reacting to him before your brain could catch up. The sound of his laugh from another room. His rings tapping against tables. The lazy way he spread his legs whenever he sat down like he owned whatever space he occupied.

You hated how aware you were of him at all times.

More embarrassing still, Namjoon seemed just as aware of you.

By the time the concert finally ended and the staff cleared out for the ending ment pictures, your irritation had settled into something more serious and meaner which felt almost pathetic. You weren’t some jealous girl in love with a guy she couldn’t have. If anything, Namjoon should be worried about you getting bored of him first.

That thought settled you instantly.

Yes, that sounded better .

You kept yourself busy reorganizing your makeup products while everyone rushed around backstage. The noise slowly died down as people moved elsewhere, voices fading into distant echoes beyond the hallway.

Then the dressing room door opened again.

Namjoon walked in still glowing faintly with post-concert adrenaline, slightly wet hair pushed away from his forehead, his black Arirang shirt making him look softer than he meant to. He shut the door behind him with his foot and exhaled heavily.

“There’s my favorite employee,” he said tiredly.

You snorted softly without looking up. “You say that to every person that wipes your face for a living?”

“Only the mean ones.”

You heard him drop into the sofa in front of the vanity mirror with a groan. The familiar sound of rings clinking against the armrest followed immediately after.

For a second, neither of you said anything. It wasn’t awkward, you and Namjoon had passed awkward months ago. Now everything between you felt strangely domestic in the worst possible way, like you’d known each other too long, like your bodies had memorized each other before either of you realized it was happening.

You walked toward him with a bottle of micellar water and cotton pads, stopping between his spread knees.

His eyes flicked up to yours immediately. There was always that moment. That split second where his attention sharpened completely when you got close enough to touch him. You pretended not to notice it even though secretly it thrilled you every single time.

“Hold still,” you murmured, pressing the cotton pad against his cheek, harder than intended.

“Ow.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“You’re violent tonight.”

“You’re stupid tonight.”

Namjoon watched you for a second through the mirror while you grabbed another cotton pad, lazy but attentive in that way he always was with you. Like even relaxed, part of him is still focused entirely on you.

“You in a bad mood?” he asked.

“No.”

“That was quick.”

“Because it was a stupid question.”

“Mm.”

You move to remove the makeup around his eyes, tilting his chin slightly with your fingers. He let you, always let you.

“You know,” he said after a second, “most makeup artists are nicer to me.”

“Then go flirt with one of them too.”

The words left your mouth so naturally you barely register them. But Namjoon did. And you see it immediately, that tiny shift in expression, not really surprise but interest.

Namjoon hissed quietly when you pressed the cotton pad against to his cheek. “Jesus. Did I do something to you?”

“Your makeup separated.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

You ignored him, dragging the pad slowly beneath his eye. Up close, you could see the exhaustion settling into his features now that the stage lights were gone. Smudged eyeliner, flushed skin, slightly swollen lips from dehydration.

Pretty. Disgustingly pretty.

You hated that your first instinct around him was always hunger.

“You are staring again,” he said lazily.

“You look rough.”

“Wow.”

“It’s true.”

He laughed softly under his breath, head tilting back slightly while you wiped makeup from his jaw. His hands rested on the chair arms at first, relaxed, but eventually one drifted absentmindedly toward your thigh. Not grabbing but fingers tracing the back of your skin.

Like he needed some part of his body connected to yours at all times.

You should’ve moved him away. Instead, you let him.

“You were weird earlier,” he said after a moment.

“There were seventy thousand people screaming your name. I think you’d recover from me being weird.”

“Mhm.” His thumb brushed once against your leg. “Still weird though.”

You grabbed another cotton pad. “Maybe I was overwhelmed by your intense celebrity status.”

“There she is.”

“What does that mean?”

“That tone.” His mouth twitched slightly. “The one you got when you were pretending not to be annoyed.”

You rolled your eyes automatically, but the truth was Namjoon noticed you too easily. It was irritating. Sometimes you genuinely thought he studied you the same way people studied languages.. or prey.

“I’m not.”

“Is it about me?.”

“Hell, no.”

“So it is.”

“Your ego has gone insane lately,” you muttered.

“My ego?”

“Yeah, not everything is about you. God, men get attention once and start acting stupid.” You rolled your eyes.

It took him a moment to understand your comment. And you realized it too late.

Namjoon let out a surprised laugh. “That’s what this was about?”

You shrugged casually, focusing on removing the makeup near his neck. “What?.”

“That girl with the sign?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh my god,” he murmured.

“What?”

“You are jealous.”

The word landed between you heavily, not because it was true but because he sounded so pleased realizing it.

You scoffed immediately. “Please.”

“You are.” His smile grew slowly, eyes dragging over your face like he was putting pieces together in real time. “Holy shit.”

“Yes, I’m so jealous of a girl holding cardboard.”

“No?” His fingers tightened slightly against your thigh. “Then why had you been glaring at me for the last hour?”

“I always glared at you.”

“That’s true.”

You hated that he said it fondly.

The room suddenly felt warmer than before.

Namjoon leaned back in the sofa, watching you openly now, completely entertained by himself. By you. By this entire situation. It made something ugly flare inside your chest again. Because the worst part was he genuinely didn’t understand.

Namjoon flirted naturally. Breathed attention naturally. People orbited him constantly and he walked through it without thinking twice. But you knew him better than anyone else in this building did. You knew how different he got when he actually wanted something.

And lately, he’d wanted you constantly.

The late night texts. The unnecessary touching. The way his eyes searched for you first every time he walked into a room.

Sometimes you genuinely thought Namjoon would crawl inside your skin if you let him.

“You are thinking too hard,” he said softly.

You blinked back into the moment. His gaze was steady on you now, a little curious, a little too perceptive, a little dangerous.

Without really thinking, you set the makeup wipe down onto the vanity and stepped closer until you were straddling him, legs on each side of his thighs.

Namjoon’s eyes darkened immediately.

“There,” you murmured quietly. “That look.”

“What look?”

“The one where you think you figured me out.” Your fingers hooked beneath his jaw lightly, forcing his head back enough to keep him looking at you. “You get so cocky.”

His breathing changed almost imperceptibly. “You are the one on top of me now.”

“And you are the one letting me.”

Neither of you moved.

The tension sitting between you felt almost violent now. It wasn’t really romantic or too soft, it was something greedier than that, like the two of you were constantly trying to consume each other without admitting it out loud.

Namjoon’s hands slid higher along your thighs slowly. “You know what your problem is?” he asked quietly.

“What?”

“You think you owned me.”

You smiled slowly. “Wouldn’t you like that?.”

His eyes flicked down to your mouth instantly. That alone nearly drove you insane. There it was again, that overwhelming awareness he had of you, like no matter how many people screamed his name every night, he still looked at you like you were the only thing capable of actually holding his attention.

The thought stroked something deeply possessive inside you.

Good.

He should.

You leaned down until your mouths were barely apart, feeling his grip tighten instinctively against your thighs.

“Tell me something honestly,” you murmured against his lips. “Have any of those girls ever made you look at them twice?”

Namjoon went still.

Then his eyes lifted slowly back to yours. “No,” he said quietly.

The answer came too fast to be fake. Satisfaction curled warmly through your stomach. Your thumb dragged once across his lower lip before you finally smiled against his mouth.

“Thought so.”

And then you kissed him. And Namjoon kissed you back instantly.

Of course he did.

One of his hands slid up your thigh hard enough to leave warmth behind while the other moved to your waist, pulling you closer until your hips pressed against him. The angle felt really intimate, close enough that you could feel him growing beneath you.

You kissed him harder, possessively, like you wanted to prove him seomthing— something you didn’t know what yet. Maybe you did.

His mouth opened against yours with a quiet sound that nearly made something snap inside your chest. You hated how reactive he was with you sometimes. Hated how quickly his composure disappeared the second you touched him a certain way.

No one else got this version of him. The thought alone made your stomach tighten pleasantly.

Your fingers slid into his hair, tugging just enough to force his head back slightly. Namjoon exhaled sharply against your mouth, grip tightening on your waist immediately.

“There you are,” he murmured breathlessly, lips brushing yours again. “Didn’t know what reaction would get of you tonight.”

You laughed softly against his mouth. “You say that like this wasn’t your fault.”

“My fault?” His eyes opened briefly, dark and lazy beneath half-smeared eyeliner. “You were the one looking at me like you wanted to kill somebody.”

“Maybe I did.”

“Mhm.” His thumb dragged slowly against your hip beneath your clothes. “Violent and jealous. I never got this combination out of you.”

You kissed him again before he could keep talking. Mostly because you hated how smug he sounded, and mostly because you loved it too.

The kiss turned rough quickly after that, all teeth and heat and too much wanting crammed into one small dressing room backstage. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew someone could walk in eventually, but the possibility only made your pulse spike harder.

Namjoon’s hands wandered greedily over your body like he’d been thinking about touching you all night. Maybe he had been. You knew him well enough by now to recognize the signs— the slight loss of control, the way his breathing changed whenever he got too fixated on you.

Obsessive.

That’s what this thing between you two really was. Not love, not casual either, something ugly and tabu.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, fingers still tangled in his hair. His lips were swollen now, makeup almost completely ruined beneath your hands.

Pretty.

You liked him prettiest when he looked wrecked.

Namjoon watched you carefully from beneath heavy eyes, hands resting possessively on your thighs now like he expected you to stay exactly where you were.

“What?,” he muttered.

“You look better like this.”

“Like what?”

“Messed up.”

A slow smile pulled at his mouth. “You’re kind of sick, you know that?”

You leaned down again until your lips brushed the corner of his jaw. “You like that about me too.”

His grip tightened instinctively.

God.

The worst part was how perfectly you fit together in moments like this. Like every ugly possessive instinct inside both of you found relief whenever the other gave in first.

You kissed down his jaw slowly, feeling the way his body reacted underneath you immediately. The sound he made was quieter this time, almost swallowed by the room itself. Satisfied warmth spread through your chest. Good. He should react to you like this.

Your hands slid down from his shoulders, over his chest, lower until your fingers hooked briefly against the waistband of his pants. The movement made Namjoon’s head tilt back against the chair slightly, eyes fixed on you the entire time now. Not teasing anymore, focused, hungry.

“You’re acting jealous.”

You smiled against his throat. “And what?.”

His hand slid up your back slowly. “You really couldn’t stand it?”

“The idea of you entertaining random girls?” You pulled back just enough to look at him again, fingers toying lazily with the button of his pants. “Please.”

Namjoon watched your hands carefully, then your face, like he was trying to figure out which one he wanted more.

“You’re possessive,” he murmured.

You hummed lightly. “Don’t you like it?.”

Something dark flickered across his expression at that, not discomfort but more like enjoyment. He liked you like that. Because Namjoon was exactly the same for you.

“I do,” he simply said. “I like everything you do.”

You couldn’t stand him.

Your hand immediately unbuckle his pants, slowly putting them down. Your eyes still fixed on his face. Namjoon’s eyes were dark. He was losing it too.

“Touch yourself for me,” you whispered to him.

Namjoon could come from your voice only.

You kissed his neck slowly, moving away until you were finally kneeling between his legs. You looked up as he started pumping himself over his clothes, getting harder at the sight of you. He groaned breathily, eyes getting lazier and hand moving a little harder. You could see the wet spot just right where his linen tip was, hitting his underwear so softly it made it look delicious.

You moved your hands to his thighs, slowly creasing them until you reached to his underwear. He threw his head back when your fingers touched his clothed cock, teasing him slightly with the tip of your fingers, rubbing them up and down to feel it in your hand. He tried not to moan when your hand finally wrapped around it, and pulled it down. Namjoon looked delicious. His cocked jumped out hitting his long shirt. His cock was big, veiny and looked so pretty. You couldn’t wait to put it in your mouth, missing it after days of not touching each other.

Your hand moved the base of his cock, squeezing it slightly. His veins bulged under the skin, thick and ridged, pulsing when you gave another tentative squeeze. One fat vein snaked right along the underside, throbbing harder every time your thumb brushed over it.

“Shit— that feels good.” his hips jerked into your hand involuntarily, and he threw his head back, breathing ragged. “S-sorry. You’re doing s’good.”

He was hard as a rock and his tip was shinny with pre cum and red, begging to be taken care of.

You stuck out your tongue, slowly licking from the base to the head of his cock. His back arched slightly, head thrown back as he gripped the sofa. “Look at me,” you demanded. And he did. “I want you to look at me while I make you feel good.” Your lips kissed his mushroom tip. “I want you to remember who makes you feel this good.”

He was going to cum so fast.

Your lips wrapped around his tip before sucking it in. Namjoon tried not to throw back his head back to the sofa, mind getting dizzy. You started sucking his cock so slow and hard that he felt like it was the first time he was receiving a blowjob. You could see the satisfaction in his eyes, in a way he liked you like that, possessive, sick to prove a point.

Namjoon was losing his mind. Mouth opened, his fingers sinking into your hair to push you closer to his cock, trying to take some control over the situation. His cock popped past your lips with a wet sound, thick and hot on your tongue. You tasted skin and salt and him, his veins dragging along the flat of your tongue as he pushed deeper, inch by inch disappearing into the wet heat of your mouth.

Your tongue circled his cock tightly before sucking again, he gritted his teeth hard at the sensation. Your right hand squeezed the beginning of his cock, moving it up and down as you sucked his tip with determination.

Namjoon felt so close.

No. Wait.

There wasn’t too many things that bothered Namjoon’s mind. Lately, the list had reduced to just two. The first one was you, you and the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about whatever was going on between you two— the second one he couldn’t remember right now.

Namjoon knew he was fucked. The moment you got drunk one night months ago and you finally let him touch you the way he had dreamed for months. It was game over for him. But he knew there was something between you two that couldn’t be tamed in the moment. There was a missing commitment that he knew you two weren’t able to get in that time. Still, it bothered him that maybe you could be seeing other people.

He could too, but he didn’t want to.

He only wanted you. He only wanted to make you feel good. He only wanted to touch you. He only wanted to talk to you.

Only you.

There was no one else in his mind except you. And in that moment, specially in that moment, there was absolutely no other thought that making you feel good, making you feel like you actually belonged to someone, him. He liked you like that, crazy in your feeling, not knowing why you were acting like that. So possessive over someone you didn’t know you wanted.

Namjoon was a patient man. He could wait for you to find out.

But he wasn’t so patient about other things.

“Umm— wait, wait.” He pulled you from your hair. Looking at you kneeling in front of him. Mouth swollen, lips red, a line of saliva connecting you to his hard cock. “I’ll cum inside you— I wanna make you feel good first.”

“But—”

“Stand up,” he demanded you. “I said I wanna make you feel good first.”

Namjoon didn’t give you too much time to think, pulling you from your arms and pushing you to the counter in front of the mirror. He took a seat on the chair. His hands moved your skirt to your hips and he quickly made you sit in the cold wood, opening your legs to see what he most desired. He put himself between your legs, panties already soaked. Even as your chest rose and fell, you held yourself up, letting him put your feet on the edge of the desk and spread your legs apart completely.

His rough palm caressed your thighs before he started biting them, plump lips marking your skin.

“Joon—”

“Yes. Now moan my name, baby. Gonna touch what is mine.” He said, eyes dark as he looked at your panties and your cute wet mound sticking to the material. His thumb stroking your inner thigh. “Already soaked, you’re always this ready for me, huh.”

“Yes, always ready for you.” You nodded, already fucked up by his touch.

“Good. Now you know who owns you.”

He easily hooked a finger and slid your panties to the side, leaning down, tongue sticking out as he licked a wet strip up your sweet cunt.

“F-fuck!—”

And before you could even properly moan he was wrapping his arms around your thighs, shoving his face even deeper making you jolt and whimper loudly.

He wasn’t soft and didn’t go slow. Namjoon was hungry. Intoxicated of you.

His hands went to the back of your thighs to hold you in place and he went straight to suck your clit. You threw your head back and moaned. His tongue flattened to moved it around your clit, trying to stimulate you more. He was going crazier than before, hungrier, hornier. His teeth trying to grabbed your clit and making you moan louder at the sensation.

His lips started kissing your pussy before licking your entrance with desperation, his tongue tried to reach your insides while his nose moved around your clit. He kept doing that for a couple of minutes. He couldn’t see you anymore, only being able to hear you while he was making out with your pussy. He was making a mess with his face, trying to drink all your juices and making you feel good.

He went back to your clit, sucking with more vigor now, wanting more every time. Your fingers buried in his hair, slightly pulling off them before pressing his head harder to your core. Looking for more friction. He moaned at your desperation, looking to come undone. He could swear he was about to come untouched.

“Mhmm, s’good— Baby I’m gonna—”

He suddenly stopped, making you whine.

It took everything in him not to go back to finish his job. But he wanted you to come undone in his cock. He knew how he wanted to wrecked you.

Namjoon didn’t even clean his mouth to kiss you, lips moving hungrily over yours before taking a seat back to the sofa. Legs spread wide, jeans down to his the middle of his thighs and cock looking red and hard pointing at the ceiling. He looked so good like that, waiting for you to take what was yours.

He patted his thighs. “Come on now. Take whatever you want, baby.”

In less than a second you were straddling him again, kissing him messily to prove him you were going to do exactly what he said do. You were going to take whatever you want, whatever that was yours.

“I want you.”

With your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, you bucked your hips up, eyes locked on the way his length gleamed with his pre-cum, drooling from his tip so yummy. It was all so lewd, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. Your hips moved slightly upward. You grabbed his cock with one hand so you could line it up at your entrance. Your other hand pressed down hard on his abs, throwing your head back as you slowly lowered down to take him.

“I said take it. Take it like you mean it,” Namjoon didn’t let you take it slow. He moved his hips upward with strength so you could take him the way he wanted you too. Hard and mean. “Take it like it’s yours— Uhm, y-yes, yes. Like that— uhmm.”

You whimpered when he filled you up. Feeling every vain, every inch of him inside you. His fat tip touching your favorite spot.

Slowly, you lifted your hips, then bring them back down again, trying to find a good pace. His jaw clenched a little and he pinched at your waist, and then his own hips bucked up against yours so you did the same thing again until you found a steady pace and before long, you were bouncing up and down on his cock.

You started to ride him. Moving slowly up and down at the beginning so you could get use to his length. It always felt like the first time you two fucked. It felt so good, stretching you completely. His big fat cock, you could feel every vein and twitch inside you. His warm, it felt so good wrapped around you

“It’s mine,” you said. Fucked up already. Too drunk of him, too honest. “You’re m-mine.”

He looked at you, eyes already too gone. He looked mean, like a dragon. “Then do a better job. Ride me good.” He slapped your thighs

You whined at his mean words before starting to fuck him faster and moving your hips better.

The sounds were obscene. His cock plunging into your wetness with each bounce of your knees, the sofa moving dramatically against the floor. Your clit hitting the lower part of his stomach in such a right way. You could feel your juices dripping on him making an even bigger mess.

You didn’t care. You didn’t care if people were waiting for him or how much time it would take to clean off all the mess. You just cared about showing him he could t find anyone better. No one could make him feel better than you, no one could do a better job than you.

“Come on, baby.” He slapped your ass. “Gonna make me do all the hard work?”

“Shut— shut up.”

“Lazy girl, making me do everything.” He wrapped his left arm around your waist and with his right fingers he began to rub your clit, with intention. You moaned into his mouth and he took the opportunity to insert his tongue into your mouth, licking every part of you. Tasting every inch of you. He was the one leading, as always.

“No, no—”

“Uhmm, you feel good.” He bit down your jaw until he reached for your neck, leaving bruises with his lips. “S’kay, lemme take care of you now, okay?.”

He started fucking you, moving his hips upward faster and meaner. His dirty fingers left your clit and grabbed your hair to kiss you again. You moaned in his mouth, his lips eating you with lust and hunger. His arm around your waist grabbed you in a possessive way, tighter, leaving bruises, pushing you down every time his hips went upward to slammed into yours. The sounds were almost pornographic, it felt too good, too much.

Namjoon kissed your mouth again before his fingers buried themselves in your hair and he pull it hard, making you throw your head back. He started kissing and biting your jaw and neck, leaving more marks on your skin.

You were his. Only his.

You moaned loud when he hit the right spot inside you, not caring if anyone outside could hear you. You hoped they will. That way they’ll know you were the one to get him see like that, you were the only one he get to touch and kiss like that.

He was being so good to you, hitting the right places, making you break apart. Your knees began to slip slightly, your thighs burning, no longer having almost any strength to keep going. You pulled his hair and started kissing his neck too, you wanted to leave marks too, even if you shouldn’t. Even if you really shouldn’t. He knew you shouldn’t. It was wrong, it was dangerous— But fuck it made it more hot.

It made him go insane the fact the you wanted to mark him as yours too.

He was. He was yours. He so badly wanted to be.

Namjoon moved his hand on your hair to grabbed your neck. His fingers pressing hard around the lower part of your neck, his cold rings against your sweaty skin. You opened your mouth to complain but his gripped hardened around you, becoming almost difficult to breathe correctly.

“Say it— say it.” His lips ghosted yours but he didn’t kiss you, just teasing you. “Say ya’ mine. Moan my name— shit, s’ good— moan my name and say you’re mine.” You whined and he smirked slightly before slamming his hips harder onto yours, fucking you faster, meaner. “Say it for me, baby. S-shit, you’re takin’ me s’good — Say you’re mine, p-please…”

You squeezed him so good he was losing it. His mouth found yours again. He could feel your warm and wetness swallowing his cock. He feel every inch of you wrapped around him. It was so good. It was perfect. You were perfect.

You cried out. “I’m yours.”

Namjoon felt your walls squeezing him harder. He moaned in your neck, you were sucking him so hard it was too much. He rubbed your clit desperately, helping you find your release. It didn’t take you too long to do so. Your high hit you like a truck, your nails scrapped his shoulder, your mouth parting to moan loudly. You closed your eyes, walls closing so hard and your juices coating his cock. Your vision went blurry, your breathing uneven. Your thighs burning like hell. You broke apart in his arms.

“I’m yours too.”

Namjoon’s cock twitched inside you with one last thrust. His eyes rolled back, his hands gripping your skin as he heard your whimper. That hit his final straw. His forehead hit your shoulder as he felt succumbing to the sweet release. He came undone, ropes and ropes of hot cum filling up your sloppy cunt and spurting down onto your thighs.

It felt so good. Having you in his arms, making a mess of you. You making a mess of him.

It took you both a couple of seconds to come back to reality. The high of that sensational high still feeling in the air.

You moved slightly away just enough to be able to rest your forehead in his shoulder. Namjoon pushed you slightly closer, still inside you. His hand rubbing your back sweetly.

“You know,” he said softly, voice a little rough and tired, “this is a crazy reaction to a cardboard sign.”

You snorted, feeling insanely embarrassed.

But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter anymore what label you and Namjoon had. You knew he was yours anyway.

you know exactly what inspired this….. okay bye!! hiatus back on!!