#bts angst

it would have been fine, if you weren’t so clueless. you took his actions as nothing more than him being friendly, and comfortable with you and sure - you both dated other people, but he’d made it abundantly clear to every woman in his life that you came first in the peking order. naturally, this didn’t make them stay long.

he had a deep, twisted sort of obsession when it came to you, constantly needing you close, wanting to hold you, smell you, caress you in anyway possible. you let him, of course - you were a sweet little thing, you always assumed it was normal despite everyone in your life questioning it. you were asked a million times a week whether you and jungkook were dating to which you’d always tilt your head, mumbling out a confused no. whenever he was asked, he’d simply smirk, and shrug his shoulders, playing the ambiguity card.

you weren’t sly, however. he could see right through you. no matter how innocent you’d act, he knew you enjoyed the attention, craved it and needed it in a way that resembled himself - you were a mere reflection of one another. he had just come to understand his feelings first.

y/n and jungkook, a simple pair. you couldn’t find one without the other, and despite him being the openly touchy and expressive one out of you both, the only person who thought it was friendly was you. the irony was, you knew deep down it was all a facade you were keeping up in hopes he would never stop. it felt too good to change the game now.

even now, jungkook knocked on your door at 2 in the morning, hair messy, coming from one of the libraries after a long PHD study session. you sleepily rose from your bed, already half way to dreamland as you lazily opened the door. though you weren’t expecting him, you knew it could only be him knocking.

“did i wake you?” he murmured quietly as you yawned against the door, letting him in.

he walked in, placing his bag and shoes by the entrance whilst he watched you sleepily turn back to your bedroom. “mm, but it’s okay.”

he followed you in, watching you snuggle back against your pillow. “scoot over.”

you did exactly that, shuffling, watching as he joined you in your bed, taking over a large majority of the space. you groaned a little as his hands found your hips, large fingers pressing into your skin whilst he pulled you into his chest with utter ease.

“smell good.” you purred, curling your face into his neck. he felt himself visibly relax, breathing in the scent of your hair.

“it’s the cologne you got me.” he murmured down at you.

you groaned in response, pleased at his answer.

if anyone were to see you both right now, the last possible thing they’d ever assume you to be was friends and yet here you were. best friends, even, through thick and thin. you’d learnt not to question jungkook’s wandering hands, how it brushed your ass every time he ran it up and down your back. he, in return, didn’t question you on the way you’d steal his clothes, curling into them whilst demanding to lay on his chest, wrapped tightly in his thick biceps. a mutual understanding, if you will.

“hey, we’re still on for tomorrow right? jimin’s party?” he whispered down, causing a subtle shiver down to go down your neck.

you huffed a little. “yes. now shut up, i’m sleepy.”

he grinned at that, bunny teeth sinking into his bottom lip before he pressed quick peck to the top of your head, finding himself joining you into dreamland.

—

you could hear the boom of jimin’s house minutes before you’d even arrived, offering a look over at your best friend yejin who was a giggling mess at the back seat of the uber. the blonde haired boy was notorious for his gatherings, unlimited alcohol thanks to his connections, and a gathering of people that rivalled multiple parties combined. he was a self proclaimed man of the people, offering his large home as a service to society. or so he claimed.

you slipped out once you’d arrived, pulling the hem of your tiny little dress down. the vibe for tonight was to have fun, find someone, get drunk, get ruined all before cosying back up in your warm, big bed. it didn’t feel like too much to ask for, and jimin’s party was the prime location to do it.

you followed yejin inside the too large house, immediately saying hi to people upon your arrival. within minutes, you’d both done your round, and you were finally walking up to your friends who were all mingling in the kitchen.

“hi.” you squealed at the sight of your party host, who grinned widely before giving you a big hug. “having fun so far?”

“jimin, this is insane.” you laughed, taehyung wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “more than insane, should of seen what happened 20 minutes ago, some girl slapped her boyfriend for flirting with someone else.”

“yeah well, had to try out do the other one.” jimin quipped, referencing his previous gatherings whilst already preparing you a drink.

“the fact you’ve managed that is insane.” yejin grimaced whilst taking a sip of the concoction yoongi had prepared.

your eyes flickered to the tall, tatted boy stood by the wall, back pressed against the surface. a loose tshirt sat on his figure, and though it shielded you from seeing the hard panels on his body, the sheer expanse of his shoulders were enough to have your legs move towards him within seconds.

jungkook was staring at you, gaze as intense as ever. his tongue draped over his bottom lip momentarily, wetting it at the mere sight of you. “hi.” he murmured down at you, lowering his head so his lips would graze your ear just slightly.

a shiver went down your spine. your fingers reached for his stomach, clutching his top gently. “already drinking? thought you’d wait for me.”

“been nursing it. don’t drink that.” he moved the cup jimin had given you out of your hand, preparing one for you instead. he was possessive like that, small acts that you could never pin point.

“hm? this tastes good.” you hummed, resting against him.

his arm slipped around your waist, done too casually despite the weight of it on your body. his eyes wandered over the tiny dress you were wearing, eyebrows furrowing.

“is this new?”

you peered up. “yeah! you like it?” you twirled a little, his arm loosening slightly. “got it today, yejin said it makes my legs look good.”

he grunted, half in appreciation and other half in annoyance that your mutual friend had you dressing in such a risqué dress. the thought of other men noticing you enraged him, in a way that wasn’t normal; not that he gave a fuck.

“i do like it. aren’t you cold?” he asked with narrowed eyes, hand returning to the bottom of your back.

you grinned into your cup, tilting your head. “that’s what you’re for, duh.”

at that, a smirk formed in his lips, the thought of you needing him in a way he was only more than happy to be was comforting to his obsessive brain.

the two of you muttered away, hidden away in a corner whilst your friends chatted around you. to the naked eye, you both appeared to be much more than the best friends you claimed to be. with your hands curled onto him, feeling his abs and hard chest under his clothes whilst his own were wandering up and down your back, often dipping low enough to touch your ass.

it didn’t register in your head that this wasn’t a normal thing. that friends shouldn’t touch each other so intimately, especially not ones that were as close as you and jungkook. the mask of friendship acted as a guide for you both, offering a rope of direction despite both of you often letting go, making your own decisions that completely disregarded what was supposed to be.

“gonna go to the bathroom.” you groaned suddenly.

jungkook had been stood in front of you, leaned over so you were caged against the wall, forcing you to push his chest lightly. “want me to come with?”

“what, so you can watch me piss? does that get you off?” you teased, watching as he rolled his eyes.

his tongue pushed against his cheek. “yeah, yeah, hurry up. i’ll hold your drink.”

you giggled to yourself, loving how riled up he’d get at a mere poke or jab, before sliding out of his grip, feeling his fingers tighten against you before letting go. jungkook watched you walk away, greedily taking in every inch of skin he could get. from your legs to your arms, the way your ass looked so fucking good in that dress. he let out a quiet groan.

you walked up the stairs, avoiding the moans emitting from different rooms like the plague. slipping into the bathroom, you quickly did your business before looking in the mirror whilst washing your hands. the alcohol had allowed for a flush against your cheeks and your pupils were dilated, you felt a rush all over your body. tonight was supposed to be chill, but the air felt electric.

you weren’t sure if it was the music, the amount of people or even the selection of drinks - but you felt slightly out of it. you shook your head, forcing yourself to stay present again before you began walking back to your best friend, almost too excitedly.

unfortunately for you, by the time you were slipping back into the kitchen, your tatted friend wasn’t there anymore, with hobi letting you know he’d gone into the main foyer. you, of course, listened and snuck between multiple people, exploring the house in a bid to find jungkook.

you huffed a little, realising he wasn’t there either. curse jimin, you thought, who needed a house this big anyway? your legs travelled around the expanse of the house, feeling slightly annoyed at the loss of your best friend who was usually stuck to your hip. you knew he preferred to stick together on nights like this, so you weren’t sure where he could be.

your legs took you to the living room, finding him leaning towards a corner which made your head tilt slightly, walking over immediately only to be stopped in your tracks the second you realised what was going on.

he had a girl in front of him, tall and leggy, and it took you no time to figure out who it was. yuna. his on and off ex of two years, toxic as could be, the one woman in the entire world you truly couldn’t stand whatsoever. unbeknownst to you, everytime you’d get into a relationship or begin seeing anyone, jungkook would return to her as a distraction, in hopes of making you jealous, to evoke any emotion he physically could. was it healthy? certainly not, but he didn’t really care for anyone that wasn’t you anyway.

you weren’t privy to this information, which meant your disdain for the frankly horrible woman felt unfounded. you felt guilty whenever you’d think about it, knowing you didn’t like her simply because she had jungkook when he felt more yours than anyone else’s, not that you could ever discuss that with anyone. you huffed at the sight, arms crossed whilst staring right at them.

you both had made a pact. you’d broken up with your ex boyfriend a few months ago, and at the time you felt like it was potentially a mistake, but jungkook had talked you out of it. said if you don’t go back, he wouldn’t go back to his ex either and selfishly, you knew that was what you wanted. yeah, you might have missed your ex, but the secret possibility of having him all to yourself was too much not to indulge in. seeing him now, however, had you drowning in annoyance.

yuna’s gaze flickered over jungkook’s shoulder, noticing you stood a few metres away looking at them openly. she wasn’t very fond of you either. it was hard to stomach the fact she would always be second in jungkook’s eyes, if even that, compared to the best friend he kept so closely to him. you could call and he’d drop the entire world to be by your side, so it made her bitter, naturally. seeing you stood there, visibly losing in comparison to her made a small smirk form as she tilted her head upwards to look at jungkook, her hands suddenly sliding all over his chest and shoulders.

you scoffed, deciding you’d had enough as you turned on your heel and exited the room with a grumble. if he wanted her so bad, he could have her, you didn’t care. he wasn’t allowed to come back to yours after though, a broken promise is still a broken promise and you held a grudge like no one else.

“now what’s got you frowning at a party like this?” jin questioned as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, seemingly appearing out of no where as you trudged to the kitchen to get drunk.

“nothing. it’s stupid.” you shook your head.

“probably, but if it’s upset you, let’s talk.”

you sighed, as you grabbed the bottle of vodka, making a concoction you knew would be too strong for you to handle. you were a lightweight after all. “jungkook’s in a corner getting all close with yuna.”exess

“stupid boy.” he shook his head. “are you upset because you don’t like seeing them together?” he asked, leaning against the fridge, watching as yoongi and jimin walked in, seemingly with the same idea as you.

“what..no it’s not that.” your cheeks flushed, a cheeky grin forming on his face that jimin was beginning to rival, understanding the context of the conversation immediately. “yeah? why you getting all red then?” the younger man teased.

“shut up.” you hissed, making him throw his hands up.

“okay. let’s say for arguments sake you’re not jealous, are you really gonna let that something as silly as that ruin your night?” jin asked, bumping your hip whilst making his own drink. “you can’t let his bad decisions dictate how you feel, enjoy yourself.”

“god. boring. don’t listen to him, y/n.” jimin huffed, grabbing your arms and twirling you a little. “don’t get upset. get even.”

“huh?” yoongi asked, eyes narrowing. “okay, feels like it goes without saying that you shouldn’t listen to jimin right now.”

you were intrigued, however. “what do you mean?” you asked, peering at him.

“get even.” he reiterated with a smirk. “gotta play him by his own game.”

“yeah, well, it’s not like my ex is here.” you grumbled at him, taking a sip of your too harsh drink, making you wince. jin tutted, stealing it out of your hand and making you another, more appropriate one.

jimin’s smirk could have rivaled the cheshire cat, with the way it pinned to either side of his face, clearly loving this game. he knew about jungkook’s feelings for you, and about the hidden feelings you could barely admit to yourself - wasn’t it time he had some fun, and made sure progress was being made?

“ah, but i have something better.” he tutted, leading you out to the entrance of the kitchen so you could look out all of the people here. “so many eligible bachelors. why go for something you’re used to, when you could try something new?”

you pondered his words whilst you heard yoongi groan, taking the drink jin was preparing for you and downing it himself.

soon enough, you had found yourself the perfect man. you couldn’t really remember his name, jaehoon, jaehyun, something along those lines - not that it really mattered. he was the right fit for what you needed. you flirted in a way you knew worked best, eyelashes fluttering and a few casual touches here and there, he was practically smitten by the end.

you’d even gotten up to dance, his hands travelling all over the expanse of your stomach, your hips and hair. he was letting you know exactly what he felt and what he was thinking through his eager touch. normally, you’d feel disgusted, you weren’t someone that revelled in attention like this but it was hard to think when you were being guided by jealousy.

“wanna get out of here?” he whispered down at you, voice heavy with intent.

at first, you faltered, as though ice water had been splashed onto your face, suddenly aware of what you were doing. one look upwards and you noticed jungkook wasn’t even around you, and for some stupid reason you couldn’t rationalise, it made you angry. he broke the pact. he had you walking around the party looking for him. him and his touches, wandering hands and fleeting looks - you knew friends didn’t do that, but it was jungkook. it was okay if it was him, you preferred it even, and yet here you stood, about to make the biggest mistake of your life out of pure ego.

“yeah.” you huffed a little, carried away by your thoughts.

the man in front of you couldn’t believe his luck, you were easily one of the prettiest girls at the whole party and entirely out of his league so he wasn’t about to waste a single minute. he took your hand, smirk big whilst leading you through the house, and towards the door.

you passed some of your friends, who were all looking at you inquisitively, managing to get to the foyer before you were so rudely stopped by a hand yanking your own away from his grip.

“what the fuck are you doing?” jungkook appeared, chest big and shoulders as wide as they could be.

he was inching towards the shorter man, eyes narrowed dangerously as though something completely unfathomable was taking place in front of him.

“who are you?” his eyebrows narrowed. “let go.” you hissed at the same time, yanking your hand out of his grip.

he turned to you, eyebrows furrowing in half confusion and annoyance. “what, you’re gonna leave with this guy? are you fucking stupid?”

“what’s it to you?” your eyes were matching his in emotion, whilst the man beside you watched you both in confusion. “listen, man, she told me she was single..”

“yeah, well she’s not.” he broke eye contact; facing him once more. “touch my girl again and i’ll fucking kill you.”

that was all he needed to hear; backing down immediately and all but scurrying away. jungkook was very well known, he had a presence that made most men uncomfortable, a cocktail mix of strength and anger that anyone would shy away from. it was secretly one of your favourite things about him, you were convinced he was invincible - the thought of him being able to protect you so thoroughly had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“jungkook.” you hissed once more, anger bubbling in your stomach.

he didn’t bother to respond, grabbing you by your hips and pushing you almost harshly against the wall, secretly making sure your head didn’t bang. “what was that? leaving with some guy, you don’t even know who he was.”

“would it have been better if it was someone i knew, then?” you scoffed, hands gripping his shirt where his hardened chest sat beneath, pushing him away though he didn’t budge whatsoever. stupid, concrete body.

his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them. “you don’t fucking leave with anyone that isn’t me, you hear me?”

you rolled your eyes. “you don’t get to act all innocent with me, i’m surprised you’re not upstairs with yuna right now.”

“what are you talking about?”

“i saw you, so don’t even bother.” you huffed, pushing him by his chest once more only for him to grab your hands, pinning them to the wall above you.

“yeah? tell me what you saw, hm.” he darkly whispered down at you. “did you hear what we were talking about, or are you jumping to conclusions?”

you wiggled slightly, his chest now all but pressed against yours. this position was entirely indecent, and if either of you were more aware of your surroundings, you’d be thankful that everyone was currently too drunk to notice you.

“you said you wouldn’t talk to her anymore, that was the pact.” you hissed. “you promised and now you’ve broken it, so i can do whatever i want, you don’t get to dictate my decisions.”

he scoffed in your face, and your eyes widened lightly at the mere audacity, wiggling again against his grip. all this was doing was pushing your body tighter against him.

“you know, if you had stuck around longer than 5 seconds you would have actually heard what we were talking about.” he all but grumbled. “she approached me, wouldn’t leave me alone, i’ve spent the last 15 minutes telling her to fuck off, that i’ve only got my eyes on one girl, only have time for you.”

you stopped wiggling, his words hitting you one after the other.

“imagine my fucking surprise when i try find you, only to find some fuck leading you out of this place.” his face was dangerously close to yours. “what were you planning, y/n? trying to get me angry? was that your game plan?”

you didn’t respond, nervously keeping eye contact. your thighs were pressed against each other tightly, a sick part of you enjoying this more than anything, the way he was being a little rougher with you whilst still being protective - it made your brain sing.

“and what would you have done once you were both alone, hm? he wanted to fuck you.” he growled harshly, making you grumble under your breath. “you think a guy like that is worth fucking?”

“okay, fine, i shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. but you still broke the pact.” you weakly pushed back, your ego too high to let him win.

jungkook knew it, knew the only reason you’d gone so far was out of jealousy and it made his heart clench harshly - it felt fucking incredible. his girl, his y/n, so bothered at the sight of another woman staking their claim on him that you’d become this blind? if only you knew the way he had shut yuna down, leaving the girl practically in tears after he explained how deeply his heart and brain were intertwined into you - that he’d take morsels from you if it meant being close to you, whilst he wouldn’t even look at her twice even if she’d offer herself whole. he knew it was cruel, but in that moment, when all he wanted to do was return to you, he hardly cared.

“yeah, i did.” he murmured after a moment, slowly easing your hands back down from the wall, now pushing them back onto his chest. he could feel your fingers pulling at the fabric of his t-shirt once more. “forgive me, baby. swear my intentions were good.”

you nibbled on your bottom lip. he was still so close, his nose bumped against yours gently, “fine.” you huffed a little, despite one of your hands drawling down to his stomach, feeling the tightness of his abs beneath.

he dipped his head so your cheeks were pressing together, his lips ghosting against your ear. “now, stay with me for the rest of the night. next man i see touching you, i’ll fuck up.”

and as you both walked away, you sported a triumph grin, not only having jungkook possessively lead you to a spot on the couch, but also have his wandering hand go from your hip to firmly grabbing your ass.

—

“how much longer?” jungkook groaned alongside yoongi, who sat beside him, arms crossed and eyes closed.

the two men were sat within the confinements of what felt like a jail, but was actually a mere clothing department. surrounded by pretty dresses and a flourish of colours, the pair felt utterly out of place, dragged here by either girl. yoongi and yejin had a weird back and forth that had been building for years, incredibly similar to your own relationship with jungkook? the difference between you, however, was they at least tried to be subtle for the sake of appearances.

“god, just wait, you’re both so impatient.” yejin huffed, whilst you both chatted away in your respective dressing rooms. “i don’t know about this one.” you murmured, loud enough for jungkook to pick up on the slight tinge of anxiety in your voice.

“come out, y/n.” he gently coaxed, noticing your feet from underneath nervously shuffling.

you did exactly that, however, your hair pulled up into a messy ponytail that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from.

“wait let me see too!” yejin excitedly rushed out, the lilac tone of her dress catching yoongi’s attention.

jungkook couldn’t look away from you. a sweet grey dress that hugged every inch of you - from where it sat on your calf to the way it dipped in at your waist. it felt like your legs went on for days, your breasts accentuated. you were perfection in a bottle, and the fact you weren’t sure drove him insane.

“i really like that, actually. you look nice.” yoongi nodded in approval, yejin walking over and adjusting the straps. “oh, you are so getting this. you look hot.”

you looked over at jungkook. it was his opinion you really wanted, and you knew it wasn’t healthy, but you craved his thoughts the most. he was soaking you in hungrily, eyes dark and legs parted slightly, causing you to flicker down secretly. he was enamoured by you.

“i like it.” he grumbled. “i like it too much.”

your cheeks flushed a little, pleased with your best friend’s approval. “you sure kookie? just think this grey is too moody for a wedding, and maybe it’s too tight?”

“it’s perfect. i’m wearing black, so we’ll match.” he shook his head. yejin grinned to herself before flaunting her outfit towards yoongi who was equally as enamoured.

“ooh, are you wearing that suit we got together at the start of the year?” you excitedly asked, shuffling over to him. you were now in front of him, his legs parted as he leaned back in his chair, your body inbetween.

he was taking you in, openly. from your eyes to your lips, lips to your neck, neck to your boobs and downwards. he couldn’t get enough.

“mm, yeah. remember you saying how much you liked it.” his hands were touching you now, on your hips, sliding over the material hungrily. “i really do.” you admitted, a small, too cheeky grin forming on your face.

yejin had returned to her dressing room now, you promptly doing the same, jungkook’s hands falling off of your body, watching the dress pool at your feet from the bottom of the door. he spread his legs a little wider, accommodating for the already growing nature of his length.

“hey, you guys joining us for dinner?” yoongi asked him quietly, watching as yejin walked out, hands playing with her hair. “dunno man, might have to pass, she’s kinda tired so thought i’d take her home.”

he nodded, watching as you too came out. jungkook admired you whilst you both said your goodbyes, soon enough standing in front of him, in between his legs slightly, like before. “you don’t have to come with me if you’re hungry, kookie, i don’t mind making my own way back.”

he scoffed, whilst standing, height towering over you immediately. “gotta take my girl home, hm?”

you didn’t want to admit the pounding that formed in your chest at his words and the ease in which he said them in. he took a hold of your hand, both protective and possessive whilst leading you to the counter, not sparing you a single glance as he paid for your dress. you had known him long enough to know he’d sooner die than let you pay for anything, another thing that had you kicking your legs and screaming into your pillow.

“wait, can we go to yours instead? just remembered my house is a mess and i don’t wanna deal with that right now.” groaning into his arm whilst you walked beside him, peering up with big, hopeful eyes.

jungkook wanted to scream. as if he could say no to you.

“mm, sure. you left your stuff from last time too in case you want to shower.”

you grinned wide at the confirmation. “hm, maybe i’ll have a bath.”

within the next half hour, you were in jungkook’s bath, soapy bubbles covering your naked body whilst you hummed in delight, candles littered everywhere to create some sort of ambience. you loved coming to his place, it was much bigger and warmer than your own apartment. his scent was also everywhere, which made your brain keen.

“you hungry?” jungkook called out from the kitchen, prepared to make you a whole ass meal at your mere confirmation.

you were away with the fairies, too cozied up in the warm water and scented bubbles to even begin to hear him. jungkook frowned, realising you hadn’t responded, making him walk towards the closed door, knocking lightly and asking again.

in return, all he got was a slight hum, as though you were confused of what he was asking. without thinking, the door was already being pushed open, revealing you.

your hair was pulled up in a cute little bun, whilst your knees propped up in the water, the only sliver of skin jungkook could see whilst the rest of your body lay hidden underneath the expanse of bubbles. he watched as you peered up at him lazily, as though this was the most normal thing in the world - as though friends were supposed to walk in on each other naked.

“what did you say?” you murmured up at him whilst exhaling a little, seemingly content.

his lip quirked upwards slightly, whilst his cock thumped against the expanse of his boxers and jeans angrily. if you shifted, just slightly, just a little…

“asking if you’re hungry.” his voice has become rough, causing your eyes to flicker over to him, before slowly trailing down, noticing the way he was evidently hard.

in all honesty, you’d noticed it constantly. whether it was you waking up to his morning wood pressed tightly against you, or whether it was at parties where you’d sit on his lap only to be left with a core aching for something you weren’t sure you’d ever get.

“not really. this feels too good to leave.” a sigh left your lips dramatically, making him crouch beside you, his hand dipping in the water slightly to feel the temperature. “that does feel good.” he confirmed.

“i even put the salt thing you bought for me. feels so nice.”

if jungkook was any other man, he wouldn’t have been able to pick up on the secretive tone you were using. but, alas, he knew you better than you knew yourself, which meant he could recognise the teasing tilt to your voice with ease. you were enjoying this. you liked seeing him rock hard for you, and judging from the way your eyes kept flickering down, you were just as needy.

“yeah? mind if i join you, baby? wanna see what’s got you like this.” he was suddenly so close to your face; watching the way your pupils were dilating, your eyelids hooding whilst you offered a little nod, almost delirious.

hungrily, you watched him. he discarded his top, his jeans. he made sure your eyes were connected as he was left with his boxers, his length imprinted against the thin material, watching the way your gaze flickered down almost hungrily.

“make some room.”

it was though you were taken out of your trance, slowly pulling yourself to the corner of the massive bathtub whilst he himself got in, his boxers sat on the floor of the bathroom. jungkook rested against the opposite side of you, his back against the tub whilst you did the same, the bubbles mostly hiding you.

him, however - no he was a different story. his cock sat heavy against his stomach, pink and long, thicker than anything you’d ever seen before. it looked angry, the way it was twitching, hard and begging to be touched, visible to his sweet best friend.

he watched as you stared, little gasps leaving your mouth as you hungrily took him in. you weren’t hiding it, something he appreciated greatly.

the problem with your shared dynamic was that neither of you were shy about how you felt, making it clear to the world whilst never discussing it to one another, leaving you in this tension filled relationship where you both wanted each other in a way that felt stifling.

jungkook watched the way your chest and rose and fell, hints of your pebbled nipples coming to the surface before being hidden away once more.

“you were right. does feel good.” he casually murmured, wet hands running through his hair to keep it out of his face, as though his cock wasn’t leaking pre cum in front of you.

you weren’t sure what to say, core thumping and begging for something, anything.

he smirked slightly. “but colder than i expected.” your eyes looked up at his voice, finally listening again. “c-cold?”

“yeah. warm me up?” he tilted his head, watching as your body moved before you could even think.

you moved towards him, water sloshing, not that either of you cared, so your back was now suddenly against his chest, your naked bodies curling into one another with ease. your nudity wasn’t an issue for you, and certainly not for him, but the second you moved, you hadn’t realised this meant the bubbles were now moving away from you too.

your visibly naked body pressed against him, whilst his arm curled around you. he could see your breasts, the way they jolted with every move, causing his cock to twitch much to your non-secret enjoyment.

“feels better.” he breathed down at you, air tickling your ear, making you curl further into him. your hands were against him, one on his chest and the other at his side under the water, but your gaze had fallen directly onto his cock once more.

“pretty.” you whispered up at him. his ego was beyond anything at the minute. what do you mean his pretty little best friend was perched, naked on his chest, admiring his fat length?

he nuzzled your nose, almost condescendingly with his own, eyes dark and dilated to match your own. “yeah? you like it?”

you nodded, curling into him further whilst one of your hands drew circles against his stomach, dangerously close to where it sat. you weren’t as innocent as you looked, and jungkook fucking loved it.

his own hand curled tighter against you, fingers touching just above where your own pussy sat. “been like this since the dress shop. you looked so pretty.”

the way he was cooing at you had your eyes fluttering shut for a moment, a small grin beginning to form. “i’m happy you liked my dress.”

“i fucking loved it.” he scoffed, drawing his own circles against you. “always look so beautiful.”

the ending of his sentence was whispered down at you, as though they were words too big for either of you to hear. it did nothing to stop your grin from growing, giggling a little into him as you nuzzled closer to his chest, your fingers brushing against his cock more openly.

you watched as it twitched, whilst his own hand was beginning to fall forwards, almost cupping your heat entirely.

“kookie…” you began, nibbling down your bottom lip as you nervously looked up at him. “can..can i?”

instead of responding, jungkook took his free hand and took your own, pulling it up to his lips to plant pepper kisses all over it. your eyes were batting up at him, enjoying the affection and attention beyond anything you could ever describe, before watching him take your hand, and slowly wrap it around his dick.

your little gasp nearly had him bucking up into your hand. the way it couldn’t wrap around fully, your fingers much smaller than his and yet you wasted no time, beginning to pump him slowly, up and down.

“you’re so thick.” your voice was filled with awe, and again, his ego felt like it was about to sky rocket. jungkook wanted to close his eyes, relish the pleasurable feeling of you exploring him for the first time like he had dreamt of on so many occasions. and yet, he couldn’t look away from you, the way your eyes were hooded and your hands were moving up and down in pure intrigue. it made him want to ruin you.

“my turn.” he whispered in your ear, making you shiver. his hand that was grazing against you, now moved purposefully. jungkook ran two fingers up your slit, groaning a little at how wet you felt. despite the water growing colder each passing minute, you both felt on fire.

you let out a breathy moan, head pressing against jungkook’s cheeks as your legs opened up for him, the two of you peering up at one another.

“prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen.” he huffed through a moan, your hand moving up and down his length. your faces were turned to one another, breaths mingling as your lips sat dangerously close.

god, you were so beautiful. jungkook couldn’t get over the hazy look in your eyes, the way your gaze only ever looked away to look at your hand pumping him, or his own fingers moving against you.

a loud moan left your lips once you felt jungkook push a finger in, deep and full. he wasn’t waiting for you to adjust, merely pumping it with a curled edge, hitting you exactly where you needed it. your forehead now touched his own as you adjusted your body, giving him more access whilst you too sped up your actions.

neither of you could look away, pleasuring one another as though it was the most natural thing on earth, both yearning to kiss each other and yet there still seemed to be an air of uncertainty. soon enough, he added another finger, watching as your mouth fell open and eyes shut tight.

“cmon, baby, want your eyes on me.” he whispered against you, pressing too gentle kisses to your face, making you whimper and nod whilst doing exactly that.

your hands were sloppy, almost unsure of yourself as the pleasure raked up and down your body. fortunately for you, jungkook was of the opinion you didn’t need to ever work, the concept both foreign and offensive to his mind. his hand darted out, taking a hold of your own on his cock and guided you, taking control of you whilst also fingering you, actions growing harsher.

“fuck. a pussy like this needs to be ruined. look at you; just begging to be stretched out.” his words were pounding in your brain. “bet you can’t think unless you’re leaking cum.”

you stretched your legs impossibly wider, water sloshing around you as you nodded along to his words, feeling them in the pit of your stomach. you wanted that so badly.

“jungkook, i can’t..” the moans you were letting out were loud and bouncing off of the walls of the bathroom, whilst you both grew more and more erratic.

his fingers ploughed into you, in and out, curling right against that singular spot that had you arching your back into him whilst he helped you fist his cock.

“you can.” he hissed, biting your jaw, leaving hickeys against your neck and jawline as though he had every right. “wanna feel you cum for me, sweet girl. hm? so good to me, just letting my ruin your little pussy. who does it belong to?”

“you.” you responded almost instantly, back arching as you felt something grow in the pit of your stomach. “all yours, kookie, always.”

he nodded, forcing you to look at him as he too could feel his orgasm approaching. your words were like a drug to him, feeding ever warped belief he’d ever thought. you were both on the edge, so close, so ready to break, feeling higher than ever in one another’s arms.

he pulled you in suddenly, fingers leaving your core and dropping your hand away from his own cock. you wanted to whine until you realised what he was doing, positioning your body on top of him so he could slide his cock between your slit, pushing the tip into your tight hole.

“you’re going to cum on my cock, y/n. you hear me? gonna fill you up, make sure it fucking sticks.” his words were so dark, so possessive and yet they bounced around your brain in mere pleasure.

your body was shaking, he was a tight fit, but he wasted no time, only managing to fit the tip and an extra inch inside before roughly thrusting inside of you, building on both of your impending orgasms. if you thought his fingers felt good, the painful stretch of only a part of his cock had you screaming into his face. he couldn’t stop, his hands harsh and leaving bruises on your ass as he clutched, chasing both of your orgasms. neither of you were thinking clearly, which caused jungkook to lean even closer and press his lips tightly to yours.

your brain blanked.

the movement of his lips, the way your mouths moved in unison hungrily, both of your hands moving against one another was enough to finally push you over the edge.

your legs shook whilst jungkook came too, a loud grunt leaving his lips as ropes of cum painted your walls, whilst you cried out in pleasure, the too harsh coil bursting all over your body.

you felt like you were on cloud nine, and once you had finally come down for your high, you realise you were perhaps out out of it for longer than you’d realised. your back was against jungkook’s, his arm around your waist whilst the shower head above washed both of your bodies. your legs felt weak and hard to stand on, but his grip was tight and made you steady.

“you okay?” he gently murmured down at you, with a small kiss to your forehead, causing you to nod with a little curl. “i feel so good.” you hummed, aching core a reminder of his love for you.

“good. did so good for me, sweet girl. fingered all that cum back in you too, so it’s all inside.”

his words would have scared any other girl, and yet here you were, quietly giggling to yourself like he had just said the most romantic thing on earth.

you reached over so you were turned in his arms, pressing your cheek to his chest, feeling entirely dwarfed in this position and yet it was exactly what you needed. the grin on jungkook’s lips rivalled that of a cheshire cat.

“cmon, let’s get you fed.”

the rest of the day was spent with you sat in jungkook’s arms, continuing your usual routine. you’d always been touchy, holding one another, nuzzling in one another’s neck and cuddling but this? no, this was completely different.

he had you sat on the counter whilst he cooked for you, shirtless, feeding you spoonfuls whilst he kept a hand on you at all times. later, he fed you from his lap, making sure you were full and satiated. once you were done, you both popped on a movie, watching until you felt sleepy, his arms carrying you to his bed. you slept good that night, feeling protected as you curled into jungkook’s arms, biceps wrapped around you and his fat cock hidden away in your gummy walls.

though neither of you rushed to talk about what had happened, you almost didn’t feel the need to. jungkook was yours, he always had been, and yeah you didn’t have a label, but you weren’t sure anything could accurately describe what he was to you anyway.

you fell asleep in the arms of the only man you’d ever truly cared about, body and soul, heart and mind.

—

you loved weddings more than anything else on earth. to be around people expressing joy for shared love felt pure in the sweetest of ways, and it was always an honour you held deep in your heart whenever you were invited.

you sat on a table with all of your friends. jungkook sat behind you and jimin to your right, the circular table wide and chatty, laughing with one another and clapping your hands excitedly when namjoon made his toast.

ever since that night with jungkook, things had changed. not in a bad way, oh contraire - his lips would often find your own in a sweet embrace, fleeting but gentle, his hands wandering inappropriately in their usual fashion but now it held more weight. you’d lost count on how many times he’d cum inside of you, it slowly becoming an addiction for you - you couldn’t function if he wasn’t inside you in some way. it was like a switch had shifted in both of your brains and it made you realise you didn’t want to pretend anymore, you liked his attention, yearned for it, wanted more and more and more.

you hadn’t seen him for a few days which felt like a lifetime, but your exams and your part time job kept you away from him, not that this was a deterrent. he’d send you videos you know you’d giggle at, or facetime you like he typically would. it felt different, the air had changed, and you found yourself longing for something you knew you could have.

jungkook had picked you up from yejin’s apartment, some of the other guys coming with too so you could all attend together, and he could have sworn you’d stolen his breath then and there. he’d seen you dressed for parties, or even half naked, but it didn’t compare to seeing you now. elegance dripped from every inch of you, your dress from the shop he’d bought you adorned on your body and your hair pulled back in a sweet bun, wispy pieces adorning your face. he was wearing the suit you loved so much, and the both of you couldn’t help but grin at one another.

on the ride there, the both of you sat in the back of yoongi’s car. his hand was against your thigh, possessive and meaningful and you found yourself playing with his fingers almost excitedly. you liked how visibly he wanted the world to know you belonged to him. made you feel good.

walking in, you weren’t sat together for the ceremony, with jungkook being further down in the row whilst you and yejin sat separately from the boys, much to his disappointment. this proved beneficial when he realised his position allowed for direct access to you, watching you greedily as he took you in. he couldn’t help but notice how many of the groomsmen were eyeing you up, and it made him clench his teeth but he remained quiet. a problem he’d deal with later.

the bride soon walked in, a vision in white, and jungkook watched the way your eyes utterly lit up, a little gasp leaving you. his gaze was hungry, obsessive, he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to - the way your small hands were clutched by your chest as though the mere sight of the bride had hearts pooling at your stomach. you wanted to be a bride? done, he’d get you a ring first thing tomorrow.

he was being quiet tonight, and despite now being sat behind you at the table, he’d not talked to you much. you were a slight over thinker, so you were assuming it might have been the environment, maybe he was uncomfortable at weddings? he didn’t seem uptight or anything, merely contemplative, and he was still being touchy so you assumed it was about something else as opposed to you.

silly little you had no idea that jungkook was thinking of the next steps. he’d propose to you, obviously, the title of boyfriend and girlfriend was insulting to him and he’d never stoop so low than to claim you in such a way. secondly; you’d get married, and he’d buy you a big house - he was already lined up for a high paying job that he was about to start, and he was pretty comfortable considering his family’s fortune. did you want a lot of kids? lord knew jungkook would give you a hundred if that’s what you wanted, or he’d live a life solely focused on you if that’s what you preferred. he knew you well enough to know you liked children, always cooing and complaining about baby fever to him as though he wasn’t correctly equipped to heal you from it.

after a while, you simply couldn’t take it anymore, pulling at his sleeve a little, forcing him to look at you whilst everyone ate.

“you okay?” you tilted your head at him, wispy hair falling into your face.

fuck, jungkook thought. you were beauty defined.

“yeah, i’m all good.” he confirmed, taking your tugging hand and intertwining his fingers with them underneath the table. “sorry, just been lost in thought.”

“what’re you thinking about?” you asked curiously.

he peered over your features, the way your big eyes were blinking up at him as though he held the answers to the universe.

he pressed a little kiss to your hand. “about how pretty you’d be in a white dress.”

you gasped almost immediately, catching the attention of yejin and seokjin who sat beside jungkook, before they looked away. you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, chest beating hard at the insinuation of his words, gaze dropping to the way his lips quirked slightly at your reaction.

“why..” you cleared your throat. “why are you thinking about that?”

his thumb was tracing patterns against your skin, leaning closer to you for a minute. “i always think about you. feels fitting for the setting.”

your heart was beating. was he teasing you? you didn’t even need to think to know the concept of jungkook being your future husband was something akin to having heaven on earth. a man utterly, entirely obsessed with you, showering you with love and affection whilst being a six foot something adonis. the fact he was your closest, most cherished best friend since childhood only added a little cherry on top.

“shut up.” you pushed him lightly, but the dusting of pink in your cheeks was enough for anyone to notice.

soon enough, the wedding party actually began, with namjoon forcing all of you to dance and have fun, laughs being heard all around the room as you and other guests danced the night away. you knew you were lucky for having such a sweet circle of friends, all caring and uplifting, unafraid to make fools of themselves in the pursuit of joy.

you slipped away, grabbing yourself a champagne flute and heading out to the open balcony to get some air. you were having the time of your life, and despite having jungkook in your mind all of the time, it felt refreshing to be around such love whilst thinking of him. your best friend. your man.

a small smile formed on your face as you found yourself wanting to scream out loud, feeling so many happy emotions, humming a little as the nippy night air chilled the heat on your body, your exposed arms forming goosebumps.

“god, it’s loud out there.” a voice chirped to your left, making you gasp a little as you looked over.

a tallish man; blonde, green eyes. he was lanky, and resembled one of your exes. on any other occasion, you’d be ready to admit that he was undoubtedly your type, but at the minute, the only thing that could begin to occupy even one moment of your thoughts were that of big boba eyes and a bunny smile.

“you startled me.” you breathed, letting out a light laugh.

he grinned. “sorry.” he turned to you fully. “too much for you too?”

“just wanted some air. got myself a drink, so, can’t complain.”

he laughed in response with a little nod. you found yourself chatting to the stranger, finding out he was a close friend of the groom, was currently working as a lawyer, financially responsible, even had a dog. on paper, this man was the total catch and the fact he was being so openly responsive with you, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he clearly desired you.

however, you felt absolutely nothing.

sure he was attractive, but hardly anything could pull you away from the warmth jungkook provided. he felt like home. twisted, warped, dark and yet it felt safe, something you knew no one else could replicate. he’d known you since you were in pigtails, held your hand through every single thing you’d ever experienced and still stood tall. if not him, then who?

“okay, i’m just gonna ask. gotta shoot my shot, so..” the green eyed man, nate as you’d come to learn, turned to you. “are you single?”

your cheeks flushed almost instantly. you had a sneaky suspicion his interest was blooming from that angle and yet assumed the best. “oh..uh, not really.”

“that doesn’t seem like a confident no?” he tilted his head.

you bit your lip, a slight smile forming. “guess it’s complicated.”

“a girl like you shouldn’t be wasted on complicated. you deserve a clear answer.”

you peered up at him, nibbling on your lip and contemplating. “i know what i mean to him, we’re best friends…we’re more than anything i can describe, really. i don’t even know what you’d call us..i guess that’s why it feels complicated.”

nate took a swing of his drink. “what a lucky son of a bitch.”

you giggled at that, before feeling a heavy warmth against your back, thick fingers clutching the side of your hip and breath tickling the back of your neck, a single kiss being pressed against it. your brain swirled with content, recognising the touch almost instantly, as though you were tethered.

“very lucky.” jungkook all but purred into your skin, a small and almost shy smile forming at your lips.

the man beside you instantly understood this man to be the exact one you had spoken about, and the sight of you together, the way you both melted into each others touch floored him for a moment. you were right - this was the epitome of complicated. as a stranger peering in from the outside, he wasn’t sure what he’d call you. boyfriend girlfriend felt foolish, anything more would be too little, but the way you were reacting and touching one another felt fated.

he took his leave, the once disappointment that swirled in his stomach quickly replaced by an understanding - you were each other’s person. he didn’t stand a fucking chance.

“you scared him away.” you teased, whilst jungkook turned you in his arms, looking down at you with arms locked around your waist. “bad dog.”

“yeah, i guess i did.” he hummed. “been doing that with every man that comes your way for years. some slip through.”

you giggled. he wasn’t joking. not that you needed to know.

he twirled a strand of your hair. “you seem contemplative.”

“is a girl not allowed to think?”

“hm. i encourage it.” hands slowly slipped up to the small of your back. “tell me your thoughts?”

you bit your lip.

“what are we?” you asked quietly, as though afraid you’d break the peace in the quiet you shared with him.

jungkook didn’t falter, though. not that you expected him to, but you knew that it was an age long question that made most people uncomfortable. it was about time you realised that jungkook wasn’t like most people, and he hadn’t been for the past 15 years you’d known him.

he tilted his head slightly, so that your eyes would meet his directly.

“you are everything.” he simply responded. “i feel like anything i label you as is too small and it feels insulting, but i’ll take anything you give me.”

you nibbled further, nodding. “i know.” your voice came out a whisper. “i’ve always liked you to be honest. i guess i just put our friendship first because you’re my best friend, you mean so much to me.”

your admission was sweet, and he could feel it in the depths of his soul.

his finger reached up, tilting your head back gently and pressing a small kiss to your jaw. “i feel a lot more than like for you, y/n. think you’d run for the hills if you truly knew.”

“i wouldn’t.” you breathed out, pulling at his shirt, tugging. “wanna hear it. you can tell me.”

jungkook stared down at you.

“you are the only thing i ever think about.” his finger under your chin was now caressing your cheek. you were so delicate. “morning, afternoon, evening. i feel physically sick if i don’t see you, don’t touch you or talk to you. your voice alone feels healing.”

you breathed out a shaky breath of air.

“remember our pact? i don’t talk to yuna, you don’t talk to your dumb fuck ex.” you nodded.

“only reason i ever entertained her was because i couldn’t stomach the thought of him being around you, getting to hold you and kiss you. even now, i feel angry, feel sick even thinking about it ever being a reality.”

“jungkook..” you all but gasped out.

“i know it’s fucked up. i know it’s not normal, but my brain is warped. i’m obsessed with you, felt this way ever since we were kids and it’s just gotten worse and worse and worse. but i don’t care, baby. you’re it for me and i’m spending my life making sure you feel every bit of that, i don’t care if it means i have to tear this world and make a new one for you.”

your heart was beating out of your chest as you peered up at him, hands shaky and lips parted.

“you, y/n, are mine. i’m yours too.” he nodded. “so call me your boyfriend, or whatever you want, because soon enough, i’ll be standing up there with you walking down the aisle all pretty in white.”

he brought you closer.

“and even then, when you call me your husband, i’ll feel fucking sick. because it’s a cheap comparison for what i feel for you, what i wanna be for you - you’re one half of me, and i’ll never make you feel any less.”

peering into jungkook’s eyes, you saw a swirl of two things. love, undoubtedly, which swam in pools of ebony brown, curling around his iris and hugging the whites of his eyes as though it was the most natural thing on earth. behind it, bigger, stronger even, sat infatuation - deadly, all encompassing.

if you were a better woman, you’d run for the hills, recognise him as the apex predator whilst identifying yourself as his ideal prey. unfortunately for you, every line of obsession that made up jungkook’s entire being was matched within your own. you were every inch of what he was to you, you felt the exact same emotions, the same need, the same awe, the same primal want that you couldn’t explain to anyone else.

he was yours, yours alone and you’d never let him forget it.

you were both leaning in, about to kiss, reaching a new high and understanding when your name was called out from inside the building. within seconds, it seemed you were pulled away out onto the dance floor where the bride was ready to toss her bouquet, your figure hidden amongst the other excited women around you.

you turned, your intention to simply watch as red petals flew in the air, cascading through the crowd and landing gently within your hands, brushing your fingers gently until they found a home in your embrace.

jungkook watched from the balcony, small smirk forming as he too clapped alongside everyone else in the room.

“another win today.” namjoon says, leaning back against the couch with a sigh.

jeon jungkook, kim taehyung, park jimin, kim namjoon, kim seokjin, jung hoseok and min yoongi, seven powerful businessmen had spent the whole day in boardrooms acting like actual hunters in sealing the deal that left everyone else speechless. exhausted and filled with the adrenaline of victory, they'd all collectively decided to head straight to one of the city's most exclusive clubs. they didn’t wanna face the quietness and loneliness of going back to their house, where everything seemed too consuming but coming here wasn’t any better.

they had everything one could only ever dream of, endless money, private jets, yachts and influence over the highest ranks yet the men today felt a certain hollowness in their chest. a void that no amount of luxury could fill, it was mocking because they were supposed to celebrate winning billions today.

they were all seated in the vip section that had been prepared for them before they even arrived, their status was known too well by everyone.

jungkook the youngest yet fiercest among them, who is used to getting what he wants slumped back against the cushions, his black suit jacket unbuttoned and his tie hanging loose around his neck, revealing the tattoos that traveled up his arm to the side of his chest. taehyung was beside him as he accepted a glass from the waitress, his own tie loosened as well. jimin fiddled with his cufflinks before tossing them aside while namjoon, who was often like the leader when it came to their business, crossed one leg over the other.

seokjin the eldest ran a hand through his hair, loosening his tie completely to be able to breathe properly. hoseok beside him, probably the least grumpy and bubbliest in the group, leaned forward with elbows on his knees but he also tends to be intimidating at times when necessary. yoongi the quietest and most intimidating was right beside him, lighting a cigarette with a flick of his lighter. he was the most feared and intimidating one among all of them, those sharp eyes alone sent shivers down people's spines.

“it feels empty..” hoseok broke the initial silence as he exhaled smoke from his own cigarette. the vip rooms glass walls allowed a view of what was going on outside but inside it felt too isolated.

“billions more in the bank—we should be celebrating shouldn’t we?”

but even as he spoke, his eyes drifted to the ashtray, his usual vibrant energy dimmed by that same hollow feeling they all shared. they were tired of the constant days of work and the same routine that nothing seemed to spark that feeling of being alive anymore.

“yeah.” jungkook replied with a frustrated tone as he stared into the distance, lost in thoughts of the day that should have left him exhilarated but instead left him numb.

“fuck… it feels like i'm losing myself amidst so much work.”

taehyung nodded slowly, swirling the alcohol in his glass before taking a sip, his gaze distant as he took off his suit jacket throwing it over the armrest.

“i feel it too… there's no excitement anymore, no one to share it with that truly gets it.”

it felt like they'd climbed every mountain to reach the top and they finally had but now the view is just empty sky. the conversation went on between them comfortably until jimin chimed in too.

“i caught myself standing by the office window earlier.” he mutters.

“i was thinking about how we used to make such a big deal of every win. now we’re making billions and i barely feel anything.”

he lets out a dry laugh.

“that's messed up isn’t it?”

namjoon ever the philosophical one, nodded.

“i get it, we spent years working for it convinced it'd make us happy then we get here and.. life just keeps going.”

“exactly.” seokjin added.

“i brought the latest new car last week, the one everyone won't shut up about.”

“and?” hoseok asked making jin snort.

“and nothing, it was cool for ten minutes then it was just another car you'd brought.”

a few chuckles spread around the table. yoongi remained quiet but his rare interjection cut through, taking a drag from his cigarette before speaking.

“every day feels the same lately.”

the others looked up at him.

“wake up, work, make money, go home, repeat.”

“and the worst part?” taehyung says quietly.

“we should be happy..”

“but we’re not.” jimin finished.

silence settled as they sat there with just their thoughts. a stripper began her usual routine just outside their enclosure, her body moving in a seductive dance catching the attention of every single man present there but not one of the seven men so much as glanced her way, their eyes remained unfocused staring into space, occasionally sipping their drinks or puffing smoke out. all their thoughts were interconnected in some way.

jungkook traced the rim of his glass absentmindedly while taehyung's brow lifted when yoongi spoke up again.

“we're sitting here acting like a bunch of depressed old men.”

that earned a few genuine laughs.

“maybe we are old men.” seokjin admits.

“speak for yourself.”

the laughter faded but the mood felt lighter for a moment even though the silence returned because it wasn’t awkward just familiar.

in the main area outside the exclusive section, you walked around balancing a heavy tray full of cocktails and liquors. you'd worked this job for far too long, your sweet smile remained fixed on your lips as always but that never quite reached your exhausted eyes. the uniform you wore was the standard for the club and what all the waitresses here must wear, a tiny shirt and a black blouse with a neckline plunging enough to reveal your cleavage but not overly vulgar. it was tiny and tight leaving little to the imagination and you'd grown used to the wandering eyes and glances of drunk men while working. your feet ached in those heels today and the constant barrage of customers earlier had left you drained but you still pushed forward with determination.

just a few more hours before you can go home and relax and get out of this hellhole.

as you continued serving in the main area moving between tables, you hadn't even glanced toward the vip section yet, focused entirely on the section you were serving placing drinks in front of some loud men nearby but you didn’t know that taehyung's eyes had lifted suddenly, scanning the crowd out of habit before locking onto you. for whatever reason, you caught his attention immediately and completely.

there was something about the way you carried yourself, even from where he sat he could see the tiredness etched deeply in your eyes, the way when you thought no one was watching you let your posture slump. he couldn’t help but notice the subtle bounce of your breasts with each step and the way your hair was styled but slightly messy from the busy night. it wasn’t just the physical allure even though you were one of the sexiest women he had laid eyes on, it was also the authenticity, the way there was something real in you. it was like a cherry on top, making you look even more attractive in his eyes even though he hadn't interacted with you and it made his heart race. unexpectedly.

intrigued taehyung straightened, genuine interest flickering in his usually bored gaze as he leaned toward the others.

“hey all of you, look over there, the waitress serving the main floor.”

the group shifted their attention subtly, eyes following his direction. jungkook raised an eyebrow crushing out his cigarette as he took in the sight of you balancing another tray.

“damn… there's something about her.” jungkook observes.

jimin tilted his head, a small smirk forming as he observed you.

“i know right?”

he was clearly intrigued as namjoon nodded thoughtfully, eyes assessing you even from afar. it reminds them of something genuine almost, she doesn’t even know they're watching and it makes them want to learn more about you. why do you stand out so much? and why even though they haven’t interacted with you, are you already making the night feel less lonely?

jin chuckled as yoongi finally speaks up, his tongue coming down to lick at his bottom lip collecting a stray drop of alcohol.

“she caught my eye too.” he confesses.

they go quiet for a bit just watching you, feeling that unexplainable pull that took away the heaviness from their chest for a fleeting moment. taehyung grinned, eyes still tracking your movements.

“told you she's something else. makes you wanna know more doesn’t it?”

everything else was put aside, now all their fascination is on you as you continue to work completely unaware.

you leaned over a corner table to set a drink in front of a middle aged man with a sweaty face and bloodshot eyes clearly several drinks past his limit. you were about to turn around to leave but that’s when a meaty hand clamped down hard around your wrist. it happened so suddenly that you jumped, turning around to look at him with wide eyes.

“hey there sweetheart.” he slurred, his breath reeking of whiskey and something stale that made your nose wrinkle. his other hand hovered dangerously near your waist.

“what's a pretty thing like you doing serving drinks when you could be sitting on my lap instead? bet you'd look even better with that skirt hiked up. i could show you a real good time.”

you were used to this. it had happened several times before in this club filled with entitled men who mistook your politeness for availability, thinking that they had free rein to touch you or grope you whenever but bills didn’t care about your comfort or the dread you felt, they demanded payment and this job as risky as it was, was what kept the roof on top of your head and food on the table.

some backed off easily when you threatened to call the manager, a kind hearted woman who had always had your back and also all the other girls who worked alongside you, knowing the difficulty of handling men and got security involved without hesitation. others, the way too gone ones or insistent ones, required her intervention and you'd be so grateful each time the guards kicked them out. still the constant risk gnawed at you. you wondered sometimes what if your manager wasn’t nearby, if things escalated too far before help arrived, you could never protect yourself from these men. you weren’t strong enough.

these days you hated the job more than ever but what choice did you have? it was the curse of never having enough money.

you tried to pull your hand away gently at first, twisting your wrist in his grasp while maintaining that professional smile though it felt strained because of the disgust you felt just from his touch.

“sir please let go, i need to get back to work.” you said evenly even as fear started rising in you. his grip was tightening painfully.

“if you don’t, i'll have to call the manager right now. this isn’t okay.”

but he didn’t listen, leaning closer with his lecherous grin.

“aw come on, don’t be like that baby.”

his crude words continued making your stomach churn as you looked around hastily, no other staff was close enough to notice anything and the music drowned the majority of the noises as genuine fear gripped you, now realizing how trapped you were against the wall and the table’s edge.

from the section overlooking the main floor, all seven of them watched the scene unfold with growing anger but before any of them could react, jungkook's eyes narrowed, his tattooed hand clenching around his glass as he watched the man disrespect you. he didn’t think twice and stood up walking straight up to the table. his hand shot forward from behind the drunk man, yanking his grip away from your wrist with such force that the man stumbled back.

you gasped sharply at the sudden interruption, looking up at the handsome stranger who just became your savior. he radiated such power and fury. the man immediately recoiled as he took in jungkook's tall frame and the glare he had.

“w-what the hell man? this isn't your business.” he sputtered, trying to puff up but clearly intimidated.

“it is now, touch her again and you'll regret it. get your hands off her and fuck off before i make you.”

the man tried to protest, his hand reaching towards you once more and that’s when jungkook's control fully snapped. you watched, eyes wide in horror as jungkook grabbed the man's wrist hard before it could touch you once again and twisted it so hard that the crack of bone was audible even over the club's noise as the man howled in pain, doubling over.

“shut the fuck up!” jungkook growled, not wanting the man's scream to pull even more attention and put you in the spotlight.

“or i'll break the other one too. now leave and don’t even think about coming back here.”

the man now pale faced and squirming in pain, nodded frantically before scrambling away, clutching his injured hand. you watched as he disappeared into the crowd. you stood there frozen for a long moment trying to process what just happened, your heart fluttering.

no one had ever defended you like this before and it was so foreign that you struggled to find words now, not being able to compose yourself.

“i… t-thank you.” you managed shakily as you rubbed your sore wrist absentmindedly.

jungkook's gaze softened as he looked at you, scanning you for any other signs of injury.

“are you okay? are you injured anywhere else?”

you nodded attempting a small smile, not wanting to think about what would happen if he didn’t interfere on time.

“yeah i'm… i'm fine. thank you again really. i appreciate it more than you know.”

“you don’t have to worry anymore, i'm jungkook by the way.” he rasps, holding out his hand for you to shake it.

you stared at it for a bit, your lips parting as you shakily gripped his hand, your hand looking comically small and delicate in his tattooed one. he held your hand in his gently like giving you the free rein to pull back if you want, not the forceful grips that you're so used to.

“y/n.” you breathe, his thumb brushing on the back of your hand in a comforting manner but it instead sends a shiver of thrill down your spine.

how long has it been since a man’s touch excited you instead of making you disgusted? and now with you holding his hand, it made you realize how much you’ve been yearning for it.

“y/n.” he repeats as if tasting your name on his tongue.

the emotions swirling in his eyes almost hold you captivated for a long time before you pull your hand away from his as he studies your face for a long moment.

“you don’t have to go back out there right now.” he starts.

“wanna take a break? come sit with me and my friends over there just for a bit.”

his offer surprised you as you hesitated only briefly, your feet ached in your heels and you'd been working for so long, you didn’t want to lose contact with this stranger named jungkook so soon so you nodded.

“okay a little break sounds good.” you whispered.

jungkook's lips curved as he guided you to the vip section amidst the crowd, his presence parting people like they knew who he was but you still didn’t grasp who he was yet as you stepped inside the area, you paused, recognition finally drawing into you. you'd seen their faces a few times in newspapers or news channels even though you'd never paid enough attention to learn about them in depth.

they were extremely rich, powerful businessmen and they looked so different in real life even more fierce and dominant. six of them lounged across the couches and they were big not just in height and muscularness but also in the aura they exuded. they made you feel small and out of place, they looked you up and down taking in the way your uniform hugged your curves tightly.

their gaze didn’t hold anything lustful but something appreciative like you were truly worth noticing and deserved adoration. it made your stomach twist with a strange heat as you shifted on your feet, smoothing your hands down your uniform self consciously, not knowing how to step past the door but jungkook led you further, his hand resting on the small of your back.

“this is y/n.” jungkook announced to the group as he gestured to you.

“figured she could use a minute away from it all.”

the way the men straightened immediately told that they didn’t mind having you in their space one bit as if they'd been dying to have you near, their eyes locking onto you with undivided attention. one by one they introduced themselves, the one with the broadest shoulders spoke up first.

“i'm kim namjoon. nice to meet you y/n.”

next to him, a man with such perfect handsome features smiled.

“kim seokjin but you can call me jin.”

a bright eyed man leaned forward.

“junghoseok.”

right beside him was the quietest man yet with such a piercing gaze that spoke more about him louder than any words can.

“min yoongi.” he offered a small nod only.

the two other men introduced themselves next, the one with plush kissable lips whose name was jimin and the man who noticed you first, a smirk present on his expression named kim taehyung, a little stubble present on his jawline that made him look even sexier, his voice also the deepest among them.

there was so much masculine energy and the smell of male in this small room that you felt fully surrounded by it in the best way possible and that you might as well have just fainted from how weak in the knees you were. you’ve always been so confident in handling everyone in your job but this was the very first time that you were so fidgety.

“come sit please.”

one of them spoke up and you nodded dumbly before taking a seat on an empty couch right in front of them. you realized quickly with just a little introduction of how different they all were yet fundamentally similar to each other in some way. maybe that’s what deepened their bond so much. the men exchanged glances, their thoughts still clearly fixated on the incident outside.

“fucking prick.” jungkook muttered as he settled near you, cracking his knuckles.

“a guy like that thinks he can grab whoever he wants, i saw red when his hand touched her.”

taehyung nodded, his eyes still on you.

“we all did, no one should have to deal with that shit in their workplace.”

“it's good that you handled it kook. i was so close to beating his ass up too.” namjoon turns to look at you.

“are you sure you're okay?”

their protectiveness made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“yes i'm okay.” you bite your lower lip, looking down at your hands, twisting them together.

you were acutely aware of how their eyes followed your every small movement and the tension was palpable even when there was silence. you noticed one thing, none of them, not once had glanced at the stripper dancing just outside even though the other men were staring at her like a hawk and catcalling her but to these men, it seemed as if she didn’t exist and you were the only center of their attention, like you were the only one that existed in their world.

it was overwhelming.

intoxicating

“so y/n tell us about yourself. how long have you been working here?” jimin broke the silence, wanting to learn more about you.

“i've been working here for a while… pays the bills you know? it's not ideal but it's what i have right now.”

you talked shyly at first but words started flowing more easily than you expected. you shared bits about your long shifts and the exhaustion and how you dreamed of something more stable but life doesn’t always go the way you want it to. they listened intently, asking thoughtful questions as if they really wanted to know more and cared about your life. they also shared about themselves too.

“we just closed a massive deal today… but honestly? it feels empty.” jimin explains.

they looked at you like you were the only spark they'd felt after months, watching you as you laughed lightly at a joke hoseok cracks. you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with pink cheeks when you felt all their eyes on you at once.

“you're cute when you're shy.” seokjin chuckles.

their compliments weren’t crude, they admired your beauty and the efforts you made at your work, your confidence and how despite everything, you were so strong to do this every day.

time seemed to pass by without any of you realizing when the topic turned deeper, they learned of your financial struggles too. you never let anyone know about your weakness but for whatever reason, you trusted them so easily to let the words flow.

“i manage, i make it work somehow.” you shrugged.

their expressions shifted with concern.

“you also don’t have to worry about that guy from earlier bothering you again, he's suspended from his job.” namjoon clarifies.

information on that man was retrieved by the guard outside and namjoon learned that he worked at a measly low grade company that they could probably buy within seconds but they wanted him ruined so they made him lose his job instead with just a few texts, they held the power to do so. seeing him touch you like that pissed the hell out of them.

you paused, blinking in shock.

“what? y-you did that for me? but why? i'm used to it, men are always around in this place so it's nothing new for me.” you croaked.

they reacted immediately as yoongi's jaw clenched.

“used to it? you shouldn’t have to be. no woman deserves to face this every day.” his voice was low with anger while jin's usually light demeanor hardened.

“you're handling all this out there?”

you smiled sadly, looking down at your lap.

“you really didn’t have to do all that for me—”

but jungkook interrupts you before you could finish your words.

“we'd do it again in a heartbeat. you're worth more than being treated like that.”

you swallowed at their words, almost feeling tears brim in your eyes that you pushed back, your heart not being able to handle such affection and possessiveness but in a good way from them, in a way that you’ve never received before in your life. it left you speechless and with a thousand unknown feelings and little did you know that even to them you seemed even more extraordinary than their words could convey as taehyung leans back on the couch, his eyes locked on yours like he hasn’t missed a single word.

“you know.” he starts speaking.

“most people in places like this… they're always acting like someone else but youre just... you, even after a shift like that its nice to see it honestly.”

the others nodded in confirmation, knowing what taehyung means by heart. they've been constantly surrounded by too many fake smiles and even women who have had eyes on their wallets rather than them. they've had countless encounters before with girls trying to be too close to them because of an intention, none of them were honest and wanted them for who they are.

“yeah i get what he means.” hoseok added softly.

“it's just… refreshing talking to you feels normal like actually normal.”

“o-oh?” your heart thuds harder at their words.

“you're honest.” yoongi said simply.

“people don’t really do that much around us anymore.”

“i'm not that special.” you breathe.

“you are y/n.” jungkook glances at you.

“when that guy grabbed you… you were about to handle it even before i intervened. you're tougher than you look.”

you're the kind of woman who could bring kings to their knees without even trying, that's how they saw you. they made you feel desired, not merely physically but as someone captivating in her entirety, your your smiles and beauty and your confidence mixed with shyness, they loved everything.

you felt this certain heat all over you that pulled you towards them, your legs clenching together and that didn’t go unnoticed at all. sensing the shift and needing a moment to compose yourself amid the overwhelming feeling, you offered them a slightly breathless smile.

“um do you all want some drinks? i can go get a fresh round.” you offered, noting how all their glasses were empty but that none of them seemed even the slightest bit drunk because of how well they were at handling alcohol.

they nodded in agreement and you rose from the couch, feeling their eyes follow every movement as you turned, feeling their stares caressing the curves on your back and it made goosebumps of excitement rise up on you as you walked to the bar, almost hurrying to be back to them, not wanting to waste any second with them.

returning moments later with a tray balanced with their liquors of choice but nothing too heavy, you felt the intensity multiply upon re entering their space. you set the tray down on the low table slowly which required you to bend forward but you did so almost intentionally and coyly so that they'd get a good view of your cleavage. doing a subtle arch of your back that allowed the already short skirt to ride up exposing the curve of your ass, you heard sharp intakes of their breaths and that makes your heart pound harder.

your uniform was so short that you'd always avoid bending down but doing so in front of them made you feel wanted. your cleavage pressed forward against your top, the soft swells visible for the men in front invitingly.

“damn y/n...” jungkook breathed first as he shifted in his seat.

“are you trying to kill us bending over like that?” jimin lets out an appreciative hum, not complaining one bit to have you like that while hungrily tracing your figure.

“she's perfect isn't she?” namjoon murmurs quietly.

seeing you like this is stirring things they haven't felt in ages. you bite back a grin when you hear yoongi let out a growl when he catches a glimpse of your white lace panties. your thighs pressed together subtly as you straightened, feeling exposed yet empowered.

you handed each of them a glass, jin's fingers brush yours when grabbing the glass and the contact makes you gasp.

“easy guys, we've got all night.”

what started as conversations and shared stories had slowly turned into something deeper as the tension and intimacy grew that none of you could deny it anymore. there wasn't anything normal anymore, there was too much need and their eyes were growing increasingly hooded. it was like both of you guys were in a game wanting to see who'd break first and take what they need, challenging each other through eyes alone. jin was the first one to break, not being able to fight the pull anymore.

“come here y/n.”

you watched him manspreading so sexily as he patted his thigh and you let out a shy smile, standing up almost immediately to walk to him. he guides you onto his thick thigh, his large hand resting at your lower back, the heat of his body and his scent make you tremble as you place a hand on his chest. sitting on his lap made your skirt ride up and you made no move to fix it, your feet dangling off the ground because of the height difference with jin and not only him but also all the other six of them were just so huge especially namjoon, whom you guessed was the tallest of all.

you felt a subtle shift of his muscles as he adjusted, supporting your weight with literally no effort. the others watched with appreciative eyes, already jealous that jin gets to have you so close at first, their focus on the cigarettes and drinks was completely forgotten.

“are you comfortable like this y/n?” jin rasps leaning closer, his warm breath hitting your ear.

his hand stayed put, thumb rubbing circles against your thigh and you nodded jerkily, the proximity making it hard for you to breathe. you forgot about the club, the music outside. it was just the seven of them who were pulling you in their spell even deeper. then taehyung, not being able to help himself, leaned forward from his seat.

“can i kiss you sweetheart?” he asked directly, eyes searching yours for any hesitation.

the way he asked for consent made you flush, you were not used to it at all and it only made your need bubble higher and more fiercely.

“yes please.” you plead.

he closed the distance slowly, his hand cupping your jaw before his lips met yours right there with you still on jin's lap. it started soft but quickly deepened, his tongue tracing the seam of your mouth before slipping inside making you moan into it which he swallowed. the breathy sound began to ignite something in all of them because even if your eyes were closed, you could sense their expressions.

the kiss was unhurried, he took his time exploring every inch of your mouth as both your salivas intertwined. he tasted like something entirely different like dark chocolate. his fingers threaded through your hair and he pulled back his eyes half lidded and breathing unevenly.

“fuck you taste good.” he mutters, thumb brushing your swollen lower lip.

hoseok joined right after taehyung, sliding closer on the couch, looking at your lips with dark eyes, wanting permission without any words and you reached for him grabbing the collar of his shirt. while your other hand pressed harder on jin's chest for balance, fisting his shirt. the makeout with hoseok was different, it was hungrier like he couldn’t get enough as he sucked your bottom lip and you let out a louder whimper.

“mmph!”

jin's hand on your back slides lower, brushing against your butt and it makes you shiver, your bottom pressing harder on his thigh. he rearranges you until you are straddling one of his thighs, only causing the entire pressure on your clothed pussy alone making you squeal. you shifted on his thigh to chase more of that friction, your skirt now rode up further revealing your lace panties fully.

one by one they each took their moment and kiss until you were surrounded by heated touches and kisses. namjoon cradled the back of your head as he explored your mouth thoroughly.

“you're so responsive baby.” yoongi growls against your throat, all the men enjoying your cute little noises.

he takes his turn too. yoongi's kiss was full of bites and clashes of teeth from how impatient he was that you were afraid your lips would start bleeding from how he wouldn’t let go. jimin placed slow open mouthed kisses on your neck and jawline while the others observed what made you moan and squirm. like the expert jimin was, he immediately found the sensitive spot below your ear and locked his mouth there to suck a mark while you struggled to breathe into yoongi's mouth.

jungkook held you in place with a hand around your throat, squeezing slightly and his kiss was a bit more rough while he took your mouth like he was starving for it.

jimin took his turn too, sweetly.

their hands roaming everywhere they could find every exposed skin, gripping your waist or thigh, getting busy making out with you or leaving hickies on your throat and cleavage while your hips twitched occasionally on jin's thigh. your lips remained parted, tongues tangling lewdly with each of the men. jin takes your mouth and sucks on your tongue making you whine and rock on his thigh, his hand fully cupping your butt, encouraging you to grind harder.

“u-uh…”

you whined as jungkook's hand caressed your inner thighs so close to your panties. your body responded eagerly, nipples hardening as you pulled away from jin's mouth, panting hard from all their devoted attention feeling yourself melt into a puddle just from touches and kisses alone. you squirmed on jin's thigh, feeling his hard muscle flex beneath you.

the other men breathed heavily too, chests rising and falling, your whimpers and their rough breaths the only sound that could be heard. they were visibly affected too and you could feel the growing hardness pressing against your thigh from jin. their eyes roamed your flushed face and how kiss swollen your lips were, their jaws clenching as after a particularly heated kiss with jimin that left you gasping you pulled back slightly.

a sudden wave of nervousness took over you. the vip room was private, not see through from the outside yet it made you pause when you realized what you were doing in the haze.

“i… i don't do this.” you whispered shakily, glancing towards the door.

“my shift isn’t even over, i should go back out there. this isn’t… i'm not that kind of girl.”

you’ve never slept with anyone here in the club, probably the last time you had sex was years ago with your ex and the heartbreak of it never led you forward to another relationship even though your body pined for the touch of a man who made you feel wanted in every way and for the first time in years, they made you feel that. never in your dreams would you have assumed that it would be seven of them doing so.

the men looked at you but there was no judgment, only understanding and want as jin's hand stayed comfortingly on your back.

“we stop whenever you say but fuck.. we want you, not just like this but more.” taehyung growls in that deep husky voice of his that makes you weak in the knees.

“yeah exactly…” namjoon added.

“you make us feel alive again and we don’t just want a quick thrill here, we want you for the whole night.”

you made the fire in their veins rise once again after years, you made them forget the hollow feeling they’ve been carrying, it eased the second you walked in here even though you were hesitant, your body betrayed you, shifting again on jin's lap and feeling that delicious friction.

“but why me? i'm just… me, a waitress. you guys could have anyone, someone who fits better with your world. i don’t understand.”

the insecurity was evident in your voice and you didn’t understand why they'd want you and care so much when they could have someone of high class. women probably threw themselves at them every day yet they looked at you like this. they look at you like you are the center of their universe. jungkook cupped your cheek, making you face him so you could see the sincerity visible on his expression.

“because none of that other shit matters. you caught our attention because you're you, it feels right and it’s the best thing ever.”

hoseok grinned, tracing a finger along your arm.

“and we can see you want this too baby, those pretty eyes of yours are telling us everything… the little hitch in your breathing.”

your bottom lip quivers at their words as your thighs clench around jin's thigh, the action pulling a small wanton noise from you.

“let us give you the best night of your life sweet girl.”

you remained quiet even if your hand clung onto jin's chest hard

“please?” he breathes.

they dominated everyone, high status companies and billions, yet for you they'd be ready to beg on their knees. your body ached for them but most importantly, it was your heart too that was screaming at you to say yes.

namjoon leans close to you, the tempting column of his throat exposed from where you'd pulled at his shirt while kissing.

“you don't have to decide right now but... come home with us tonight.” namjoon said with such genuineness and the others nodded with him. they murmured their approvals in a chorus as jimin's eyes locked onto yours, seriousness in his expression now.

“no pressure at all beautiful, it's whatever you want…”

they knew one thing for sure, they couldn’t forget the way you looked at them and the way your body responds to every little touch. it makes them want to know how you'd react to touches at your most private places. hoseok reaches out to brush a lock of hair from your face.

“we've got a black card here, if you need anything, leave this job and take this. come with us whatever that helps you feel secure.” he whispers.

it wasn’t about buying you with the card, it was about wanting to give you the world because you deserve it. all their words made your chest tighten with emotions.

you sat there stunned as you thought of their offer. the black card in hoseok's hand represented everything, a lifetime of not worrying about bills, living with no fear of not making ends meet and being able to breathe without feeling like you have to survive but more than that, it was them and you knew money or no money, you wanted this, wanted all seven of them so you made your decision in a heartbeat.

“i… i agree.” you whispered at first almost quietly before finding a bit more strength at their encouragement.

“yes i'll come with you.”

their reactions were immediate as they let out chuckles. yoongi's hand squeezed your knee and he let out the first real grin since he came here.

“that's our girl. fuck you have no idea how happy that makes us.”

getting praised by yoongi made your clit throb, your face falling on his chest as you nuzzled against it while jin rubbed up and down your back.

“we'll take care of everything, you don’t have to worry.” jin confirms.

with the decision made, they didn’t wait any longer, wanting to have you in their place so they could claim you there with all the time in the world. they guided you out of the vip section with possessive hands at your waist. your heart raced so fast you could feel it in your throat and you felt like it might burst right open.

you spotted your manager near the bar, her eyes widening when she saw you flanked by the seven most well known business owners whose faces had been everywhere. she straightened up instantly not finding words, instantly terrified of what might happen as they stopped in front of her.

“she's not working here anymore.” namjoon stated firmly, his arm slipping around your shoulder.

“y/n is coming with us. consider her shift over permanently, we'll handle any necessary paperwork if needed later.”

your manager blinked rapidly, clearly intimidated but nodded quickly.

“o-of course sir, y/n take care of yourself.”

she shot you a quick look but the men's presence left no room for her to question anything else while you still couldn’t grasp the reality fully. feeling freedom and disbelief all at once.

they led you outside to the waiting matte black limo which was pure luxury, starting from the exterior to the interior. they helped you inside and once the door closed, the vehicle started moving and just along with that, their hands on you were at full force.

this time yoongi didn’t hesitate and pulled you onto his lap first, gripping your hips as he ate at your mouth, his tongue tangling with yours drawing out whimpers as the others shifted closer. jimin's hand slid up to cup your breast through the fabric of your uniform making your back arch even through layers of clothing, their touches felt so prominent.

you didn’t know what would happen once you reached their penthouse and they wouldn’t hold back anymore. hoseok sucks and bites on the side of your neck while jungkook placed a loving kiss against your cheek, his eyes blazing as the ride felt too long because of of what was to come.

“can't wait to have you spread out for us at home.”

you couldn’t wait either.

the limo pulled in front of their penthouse and you stepped out on shaky legs still buzzing from their heated touches that had filled the ride over.

the door opened, welcoming you inside the open living room before you could admire the poshness and extravagance of the place, you were surrounded by all seven of them, their presences closing in like a wall of dominance until you were fully trapped between them. like seven predators closing in on their little prey and they wouldn’t let you go easily especially when there was so much impatience and all the teasings from earlier had left everyone on edge and frustrated.

jin and jimin positioned themselves on either side of you immediately, their breaths ghosting over your skin as hoseok's hand boldly slid under the hem of your uniform, tracing your skin and the skin around your belly button.

“you're so damn soft.” hoseok murmured huskily.

jin's lips found the curve of your neck, placing delicate kisses along your throat, tongue darting out to taste your skin while jimin mirrored him on the other side, alternating between pecks and nips that made you gasp softly. they went oh so slow as if they wanted to memorize every inch of you with just their hands alone, pulling you deeper into their circle.

“look at her already trembling for us.”

jimin whispers against your ear before capturing your lips in a hot kiss, his tongue making that sex act of thrusting in and out that left your knees weak, your hand grasping onto one of their shirts.

“can i?” taehyung gruffs out.

his gaze never left yours as he reached for the zipper at the back of your dress.

“y-yes.” you stuttered, letting out excited huffs of breath.

his fingers worked it down slowly while his mouth sucked on the exposed cleavage of your breast as the fabric parted, revealing the expanse of your back and all seven men watched with rapt attention, their fists clenching in need. you could see their hard cocks straining against their suit pants.

namjoon stands behind you now while yoongi leans against the couch with a smirk enjoying the scene, his arms crossed, eyes devouring every revealed inch, jungkook's hand brushed your hair aside to help taehyung pull the zipper down properly as the dress finally slips down your arms and pools at your feet, leaving you in just your heels, stockings and those tiny lacy white panties, your uniform didn’t need a bra so your breasts jiggle free, making them all groan in unison at the sight. your hand instinctively goes up to cover yourself but taehyung holds it, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a kiss against the back of your hand.

“don't hide from us… god you're perfect.”

you let out a needy moan at his words and how they traced every inch of you with such fascination that you felt like the most beautiful woman in the world and most worshipped. you never thought one could be worshipped with eyes alone and for the first time, you also believed that you could feel perfect… because when you viewed yourself through their eyes, you indeed felt that.

“you look like a dream.” seokjin grumbles.

their praises seemed to reach every corner of your soul. they didn’t take off the panties wanting to admire you like this first, watching the way your nubs were pointed in the air into twin peaks the more as cool air brushed against them.

“we've wanted this since we saw you out there…”

namjoon rumbled, his fingers brushing your spine while yoongi stepped closer, his cold facade cracking as he ran a hand down your side making you lean onto him while panting.

“fuck these curves…”

you were driving him fully insane, their chests puffed up because you were letting them see you like this, your body a bit squirmy at first from being bare in front of them while they're all fully clothed but slowly adapting confidence from their words. all their hands joined in touching you until you couldn’t tell them apart anymore, gliding over every curve, caressing your breasts while thumbs brushed against the nipples.

“oh… hahh.” you whined, your head falling back on jimin's shoulder, your panties wetly clinging to your folds as you clenched your legs together hard but it did little to relieve your ache.

hoseok drops to his knees to kiss along the tops of your stockings while his cock throbs inside his pants, the smell of your arousal hitting him so directly that his nostrils flare but before they could start properly and things could escalate further, they all paused suddenly making you look at them with confusion, your breasts rising and falling. they had to force their eyes from your blossoms to speak to you.

“we need to hear it from you y/n. are you sure about this? fully sure?” namjoon asks.

“i am sure.”

you crooned, your lips forming a pout due to them suddenly stopping and it makes their eyes narrow at how the sweet action pulled at their heartstrings. they'd do anything you asked if you gave them those eyes and that expression but they need to finalize a few things.

“you can use the safe word anytime, red for stopping completely, yellow to slow down and green to keep going yeah?”

you nodded, seeing the care in their faces even in between so much tension and need.

“we've seen how men treat you at the club… so we won't do anything without your consent. we want you so bad but only if you want us just as much.” jungkook rasps.

you didn’t know if you'd ever felt so valued and safe before in front of men and it makes tears of gratefulness well in your eyes as you pressed yourself closer to them, giving your body to them fully.

“i've never been more sure in my life. i want all of you please… please.”

you whimper, feeling their chest and nuzzling against taehyung who is in front of you now and he makes a low noise right beside your ear. they were ready to lose themselves in you completely, all their restraints and control gone.

you were laid back on the couch in the center of the room as you looked up at them, nervousness yet anticipation in you, your body already hypersensitive from being touched. jin leans down to your right side when he cups the underside of one of your breasts, feeling its weight. his thumb flicked it, your nipple hardening even more under his ministrations. you felt his touches all the way down to your clit.

“oh god…”

a squeal left you when taehyung left wet kisses along the side of your other breast, not wanting to keep your other breast neglected before he captured the peak between his lips, sucking at first then with more pressure while jin's skilled pinching and rolling combined with taehyung's warm suction. your back arched off the couch as your breaths came out in short gasps, every pull of tongue and twist of fingers on both your nipples drew involuntary moans from your throat.

the others watched everything, their own need evident as they shifted closer even though taehyung and jin were having their moment, the hands of others would occasionally brush your arms or thighs in reassurance.

“ahh.”

you let out a particularly loud moan as taehyung bites slightly on your nipple before soothing it with laps of his tongue making you feel heady as seokjin's mouth joined too, leaving your breasts wet with saliva. your breasts were like a glistening playground of sensation.

“ahh… jin taehyung… it feels so good.” you whimpered, your hand gripping onto the couch from the pleasure. jin lifted his head briefly, his lips shiny.

“yeah? you like when we suck on these pretty tits baby?

“it makes your pussy feel good mhmm?” he asks.

taehyung hummed in agreement, switching to light nibbles and soothing licks, their words making you even more horny as you nodded dumbly.

“she's dripping so much just from getting her nipples played with… just look at that wet patch.”

jungkook comments, all their eyes falling on your panty covered cunt where a damp spot had started forming from the amount of arousal you leaked and the white lingerie made everything see through. meanwhile, namjoon began kissing torturously down your stomach, his tongue leaving a trail as shivers race up your spine as he worshipped your belly, circling his tongue around your belly button. when his teeth scraped a certain ticklish spot, it made you giggle and you grabbed onto taehyung's shirt who was beside you.

“mm…”

taehyung grinned at your giggle while namjoon glowed softly.

“so beautiful, every inch of you.”

he praised, nipping just below your navel. your legs couldn’t stay spread, feeling a little shy from the copious amount of essence you were leaking and also from the building ache but hoseok and jungkook didn’t let you hide away so easily, holding one leg apart, each opening you completely to their gaze. jungkook leaned in first, pressing his face close to your soaked panties inhaling deeply with a guttural groan.

“shitt she smells so good.”

he mutters, his hot breath fanning over your covered core making you twitch.

“i know right?” hoseok adds, already too obsessed from earlier after getting a waft of your pussy when he was so close to it. jungkook begins kissing and sucking marks onto your inner thighs, starting high near the crease and working inward, each harsh suck leaving reddish hickeys.

“j-jungkook..” you stammered as his tongue avoided your pussy entirely and focused around it, only puffs of air hitting it and you squirmed helplessly as hoseok's fingers dug in near your panties.

“spread wider for us princess, let us see how much you need this.” hoseok encouraged when your thighs trembled.

jimin and yoongi were the only ones left to join and they didn't hesitate anymore. their fingers joining to touch you over your panties, fingers expertly finding your swollen clit through the lace.

you whimpered, the pressure was never enough to push you over the edge but just enough to keep you teetering on the brink. jimin's touch was precise, he used the pads of his fingers to rub tight patterns between your folds that made your hips buck, with taehyung and jin watching your pleasured expressions with focused intensity.

“feel that sweetheart?”

yoongi asks as he flicks your clit side to side.

“hmm?” he persists when you don't reply, pressing his thumb against your clit even harder and it felt so much even without them touching you directly.

“y-yes haggh.” you mewled.

yoongi presses the fabric against your folds, rubbing up and down the length of your slit until the lace lewdly sticks between your pussy lips.

“listen to those sounds she's making… fuck.”

seokjin and taehyung conversed among themselves, their eyes focused on your pussy and what the other men were doing and it makes you even more excited if that was even possible, there was something so naughty about having the others comment on you while you were being touched as if there was an audience itself. it doubled the sensations for you as jin and taehyung occasionally tweaked your nubs just to hear you gasp between your moans from the maddening clit rubs that left your pussy clenching, your arousal coating your inner thighs messily now. you couldn't take their teasing anymore as your head thrashes.

“please goshh more... i need more.” you begged breathlessly, not being able to stay still.

jimin offered two fingers, pressing them against your lips.

“open up baby. suck them like you mean it.” he instructed.

you obeyed, eagerly opening your mouth as he slid them past your lips. you swirled your tongue around his fingers, hollowing your cheeks as you bobbed your head slightly. the others watched intently, already imagining you sucking their cocks exactly like this and all their cocks twitched inside their pants while jimin groaned at the wet feeling of your mouth, his eyes growing half lidded wondering how his cock would feel inside your mouth.

“look at that mouth working so well.” jungkook added.

he pushed in his own fingers right next to jimin's, pushing his tattooed fingers so deep that it brushed the back of your throat, his fingers giving slight thrusts as tears brimmed your eyes trying not to gag.

“just like that, get them nice and wet for us.” jimin murmurs.

jin grabs ahold of your hair, not enough to hurt but hard enough to make you feel the slight pain mixed with pleasure as he pulls your mouth to him for a sloppy passionate kiss that leaves you dizzy, swallowing all your noises. you made a throaty sound when jungkook's fingers finally left your mouth, his eyes focusing on your pussy, not being able to stand seeing it covered anymore and from the state of others around, they're impatient as well.

he went down your body as you watched with wide eyes but instead of using his hands to slide them off, he leaned down, your breathing growing ragged. with a dirty glint in his eyes, he caught the edge of the panty between his teeth and began to tug them downwards slowly making the fabric peel away from your core with a wet sound.

your pussy now fully exposed to the seven men and jin and taehyung also joined the others below to look at you making your cheeks flame from the vulnerability of it all and how exposed you felt while two of them spread your legs further until you were eagle spread, your folds parted as well, the soaked panty dragging along your thighs, leaving a trail of your own slickness. your entire body trembles as the cool air hits your center. the panties finally slip past your ankles and jungkook tosses them aside with a satisfied growl.

all of them leaned in closer where you lay bare as if inspecting you and it makes your brow furrow, heart pounding hard. you've never felt more exposed at once while your clit throbbed helplessly. they let out a mix of curses and loud exhales. their eyes held something else entirely, it went far beyond lust like they wanted to eat you whole and never stop. you felt like you were surrounded by seven hungry wolves and you'd give yourself up to them willingly. namjoon's breath hitched audibly, his large hands clenching at his sides as if fighting the urge to touch immediately.

“fuck...” he murmurs.

they'd never seen anything more perfect, it was like you were a work of art.

you were bare except for your thigh stockings and your heels. jin lets out a hum, his plush lips parting as he stared. your folds were swollen and parted slightly to reveal your labia and your gaping entrance, the clit on top shiny from your arousal and throbbing under their gaze. it was as if they were touching you from their stares alone and they hadn't even touched you yet.

“look at how she's clenching around nothing. fuck that's so hot... you're so empty aren't you angel?” jimin asks so adoringly that you let out another soft sound at his endearment.

taehyung stared in awe as he tilted his head, it was as if your pussy itself was begging for their tongues and fingers on its own. they've never wanted anyone more, it was like you're the only woman in the world. they've always appreciated a female body but their bodies never reacted in such a way. they were never so mesmerized. they wanted to learn more about what made you moan or cry, where you liked being touched, what made you giggle and most importantly, what made your precious heart happy.

jimin chuckled with admiration when he saw you hiding your face between your hands because of how overwhelmed you felt from all their eyes on you at once.

“hey baby...”

he removed your hands from your face and pressed a kiss against your forehead.

“don't be shy… you're stunning. look at how hard you make us just from staring at you.”

your eyes fall on their tented bulge and it makes you exhale shakily, it was the proof of how true their words were and it gives you a little more strength. yoongi's tongue darts out to lick his lips.

“i bet she tastes even better than she looks.” he comments, tilting his head making your breath hitch.

jungkook still positioned closest, looked up at you with those piercing eyes. you gulped, feeling your stomach flutter.

“i... i've never had anyone look at me like this.” you whispered, trying to find words to say what you truly wanted.

“especially not all of you, i-it feels… too much but good. i feel wanted.. really wanted.”

your pussy gave a clench along with your words, drawing another groan from them by the sight of it and from your words.

“do you want me to eat your pussy baby? nice and slow mm?”

you nodded desperately and jungkook didn't waste time and dived in first, his tongue pressing against your entrance, dragging upward in one lap stroke all the way up to your clit.

“ahhh mm fuck—”

you squeaked at the sensation of his tongue and lip piercing combined and he let out a hiss at the taste. he took his time, eyes locked intensely on yours the entire time, never breaking contact as he repeated the motion, savoring every drop of you like it was the finest wine. the pressure was perfect, not too light and not too rough yet enough to make your hips jerk and your hands fist into the cushions beneath you.

“she tastes incredible joon.” he murmurs to namjoon beside him. you squirm at the feeling of the cool metal of his piercing hitting your clit.

you tasted sweet and tangy at once, it was everything.

your eyes fall closed, not being able to keep them open as your head falls back in sensation. jungkook paused, biting onto your inner thigh, making you gasp as your eyes pop open.

“look at me while i taste you or i stop.” he threatened.

you let out a long moan and kept your teary eyes open, the touches of others sending jolts straight to where jungkook was eating you. namjoon groped one of your breasts, squeezing it while hoseok rubbed his still clothed cock against your thigh not being able to help himself. a damn spot formed on his pants from the precum.

“you want a taste too?”

jungkook smirked at taehyung, who was watching him eat at you with hungry focused eyes and jungkook moved aside to let taehyung have a chance. his tongue felt different, slow yet so deep as he traced every fold with the tip of his tongue. he suckled gently on your clit, humming around it to make your toes curl. your pussy was blooming more and more for them.

“i could do this for hours mmm.” he moaned against you, his tongue dipping inside your hole a bit to collect your fluids.

during all these, your legs were held open so they could eat your pussy with no resistance at all. namjoon's mouth was on your breast now, replacing his hands sucking on your nipple and also leaving a hickey on the underside of it while yoongi watched everything with hooded eyes, squeezing himself over his pants.

“pleaseee!”

you whined loudly, pressing your hips harder towards taehyung's face, feeling yourself getting close but he pulled back slightly with a chuckle looking down at you.

“not yet darling, we all have to have a taste first don't we?”

from his words you knew that the torture was just beginning and you already felt like you'd cum but they were just beginning, they were about to take their sweet time. jimin pressed his mouth against you giving you teasing flicks of his tongue across your clit quickly that built the pressure rapidly before pulling back, leaving you whining pathetically and he almost felt bad but he enjoyed teasing you.

“aww.” jimin cooed, wickedness present as the others smirked.

“you want more don't you? but this pussy is too good to rush.” he rasps, catching a droplet of your arousal that leaks with the tip of his tongue.

in the meantime, jungkook and hoseok latched onto your nipples, simultaneously sucking and biting while their hands roamed your body taking the chance to discover your breasts too since they didn't before and you grabbed onto their hair, holding them to your chest while sobbing. yoongi grunted, watching your pussy while the denial makes your body shake. the room filled with your breathy moans and the wet sound of their mouths working on your body.

namjoon was the first to slide his fingers along your mound and his intentions make you pant as his middle finger presses against your clit, a needy whimper leaving you.

“so fucking wet baby. this pussy's been begging since the club hasn’t it?”

“want it uh…” you whined needily.

taehyung ran two of his long fingers along your outer lips, spreading them apart with his thumbs so namjoon and he could see every slick detail making your thighs quake.

“feel that? she's pulsing so much.” namjoon observed.

you moaned loudly, head falling back when namjoon's fingers breached your entrance before dipping inside so slowly while taehyung continued his exploration on the outer part of you. the feeling of having something inside you from them even if it's just one finger, felt heavenly almost euphoric as he curled his finger immediately against that spongy spot inside you.

“oh god… oh please.”

you let out brokenly your hand fisting jungkook's hair, who still lets little licks on your sensitive nipple. jimin chuckled, his fingers replacing taehyung's on your clit as namjoon added a second finger, scissoring them to open you up as you bit your lip to stifle the cries that were trying to escape and they didn’t like that one bit, they didn’t like you holding back in any way.

“let us hear you princess. don't hold back… that’s it.”

your lips parted to quiet little “ah ah ahs” as namjoon pumped two of his fingers while jimin and taehyung took turns flicking your clit up and down, side to side, whatever motion they desired. your arousal coated their hands and dripped down to soak the couch. your eyes widen when hoseok's hand joins namjoon's, his fingers teasing your entrance around namjoon's thrusting fingers. namjoon's lips curl up as he makes space for hoseok's, whose two fingers slide inside you so easily considering how wet you were.

“nghh oh god i—”

your words cut off in a cry as you felt your pussy stretch and accommodate four fingers. their fingers were already so thick that you were stretched beyond imagination, stretched more than even dicks alone had done to you from just their fingers. you couldn’t imagine what their cocks would do to you then. the burn was delicious, your hips rocked against them chasing the pleasure, feeling your orgasm get so close.

“unngh!”

you bite onto jungkook's clothed chest because he was the closest beside your head making him fist your hair.

“come on boys, make her feel it.”

he grins, earning aroused laughs from namjoon and hoseok. both their fingers curled against your g-spot while taehyung pressed his thumb on your clit, holding it there with a blinding pressure that has your eyes rolling back. your pussy clenching continuously on their invading fingers as they wiggled and twisted their finger inside you as if they were searching for something deep inside you and your legs thrashed, not being able to take too much.

“shhh… you're going so good.”

taehyung soothes you, sensing the overload of sensations. you cried out, back almost lifting off the couch despite the men holding you from all around, your walls fluttering wildly around the intrusion.

“yess fuckk, ah r-right there!”

you wanted more and wanted to escape at once, your mind couldn't catch up from the stretch and the curl, the constant pressure on your clit from multiple hands now taking turns also your breasts never being left alone. you didn’t even realize when namjoon and hoseok left your pussy so that jungkook's three fingers could take place inside you almost immediately, they slid in with no effort as he pumped them roughly.

squelch. squelch. squelch.

it makes loud wet noises that seem to override even your moans and gasps and the men around you groan at the noises too, a pained look on all their faces from holding back. jungkook watched your face contort in ecstasy, his jaw clenched.

“atta girl, squeezing so tight around me, so damn hot… yess.”

he hisses, his thighs starting to grind against the corner of the couch, wanting stimulation from how crazy you are driving him. jin watched everything with dark eyes rubbing against your inner thighs.

“you ready for two more fingers baby?”

jin asks, stroking one of your butt cheeks as you watch him with a swallow, wondering how you'd take two more fingers while jungkook had three inside already but your orgasm was so close you couldn’t think straight and by the way, your pussy was gaping, you wanted more.

“y-y-yes.” you stammered nervously.

“i'll be gentle yeah?” he coaxes.

slowly jin penetrated two of his fingers alongside jungkook's three moving ones, basically fisting you and you let out a loud cry, your toes curling.

“oh god, oh god.” you chanted.

they all watched the way your pussy accommodated several fingers, lips parting hungrily while you were a mess beneath them. they moved their fingers in and out slowly now, mindful of the fullness in a rhythm that had your juices overflowing with pornographic sounds leaving you. your thighs trembled hard and uncontrollably as you struggled to breathe, choking on your saliva.

“i-i can't... it's too much.. feels so good.”

the others paused their actions just to watch jungkook and jin having their moment, hitting your spots relentlessly. taehyung pressed down on your lower belly to heighten every sensation and to feel their fingers moving inside you. your hips bucked wildly but strong hands pinned you down, forcing you to take every bit of pleasure they gave and it was building higher and higher without mercy.

“ah please please let me cum! i need it, i'm so close hahngh.”

you babbled, not even making sense, your hand gripping hoseok's shirt so hard that it ripped, buttons flying all over. the orgasm was so close to hitting you and that's when they decided to stop altogether, fingers leaving your cunt and their touches stopping.

“noooo why?”

you sobbed out tears streaming down your face now. it was as if someone had just snatched your high from you after so long and it left you heartbroken and your body aching.

“we've got you baby.” jimin murmurs soothingly, his hand rubbing circles on your belly while you try to recover from the denial.

amidst that, taehyung had gone upstairs to grab a bottle of lube from a drawer before walking back downstairs, it's like they knew exactly what they planned to do. taehyung's eyes met yours with a smile that somehow made even this intimidating moment feel safe.

“you ever had your ass played with sweetheart?”

jungkook questions and you flush at the question, the hint of what's about to happen making you restless.

“i-i yes… i did touch myself a few times but i didn't have anyone inside t-there.” you stuttered shyly.

you had experimented and fingered yourself on your back hole during moments of need all alone, you even tried butt plugs but that was pretty much it. you weren't so experienced because no one had you there before.

“yeah? do you want us to be your first?” taehyung questions.

you huffed, leaning onto taehyung, your lips falling onto his throat and sucking a mark.

“just make me cum please.” you sign.

“fuck anything you want sweet baby.” he grunts.

their hands are already soothing over your thighs and palms spreading your legs wider, pressing them upward and against your breasts to give them better access to your lower portion.

“we'll go slow okay?”

hoseok's palm stroked the inside of your knee while jungkook's hand rested on your hip. you shuddered from a mix of nerves and arousal. you felt thrilled and excited for what was to come even despite the fact that they didn't let you cum.

yoongi grabs the lube from taehyung, his eyes falling on you, looking almost feral. he had been controlling himself all this time, watching the others have their fun with you while he didn't intervene at all because he was the type to strike at the right time and also because he wanted the part of you that no one took first so he'd held back. your heart races as you look at him lean over you, your hand gripping his shoulder on its own.

yoongi always did the most calculative unthinkable moves and when he attacked, it was always in the most intense way. he drizzled the lube, making the liquid trickle slowly over your tight asshole, you gasp at the sudden unfamiliar sensation.

“breathe for me, in and out.” he instructed and you tried following him, breathing in and out. he circled the pad of his finger around the puckered rim not pushing in yet, just feeling around.

“mmmmm… yeah…”

his free hand rubbed circles on your thigh, coaxing you to relax.

“you're doing so good already.”

jimin murmurs, leaning in closer from the other side, adding more lube with his fingers. it mixed with the juices already leaking from your pussy making everything even more slick while their eyes watched every twitch of your body and the moans that left you.

“ahh... it's cold but feels… good gahh.”

you whimpered, your hips shifting slightly as namjoon held one of your legs steady. they worked you open with patience. multiple fingers from different men joined in. yoongi's thumb continued rubbing over your rim along with jungkook's finger.

“oh—!”

you squealed as taehyung's two fingers sank back into your pussy, doing that scissoring motion making you sob. it seemed more intensified because of your rear being touched.

“fuck she's so tight back here.” jungkook groans and yoongi nods in acknowledgement before slowly pushing the tip of his finger inside as you tense.

“relax just let me in...” yoongi rasps.

you gripped his wrist, whining, trying to not clench too hard while hoseok grabs your thigh, stroking your skin to distract you from any discomfort. yoongi's finger sank deeper and the lube made him sink all the way in so suddenly that you cried out raw.

“oh god... h-hahh.”

yoongi cursed at the feeling of how tight you are.

“color?”

he asks, your bottom lip quivers at his caring tone despite how long he'd held back.

“g-green.”

you gasped and he smirked slowly, starting to pump his fingers while jimin and jungkook touched around your stretched rim or your clit while taehyung still had his fingers pumping, both of them delivering careful thrusts. there was pleasure, pain and so so much ecstasy. you never thought getting fingered on the pussy and ass could feel so good as you couldn't stop moaning. namjoon's mouth latched onto one of your nipples, sucking hard while his tongue flicked the sensitive nipple.

“haah… haah…”

you felt like you'd burst when hoseok leaned closer to your pussy to lick at it, flicking it over your clit. the dual assault combined with the fingers till stretching and pumping inside both your holes was mind shattering and you could barely think straight. namjoon's suction on your nipple intensified, teeth grazing while the others held your legs open, preventing you from closing them against the overwhelming stimulation. yoongi's fingers curled inside your ass, touching the spot that you didn't even know existed and his fingers were extra long, as were taehyung's and both of them continued fucking you with them.

“ah-ah-ah-ah—fuck!”

you saw stars behind your eyelids with tongues on your pussy and the slide of fingers knuckle deep in your ass and cunt and the pull on your breasts. your nipples felt like they were on fire from the constant sucks and bites they received, they were swollen and almost reddened. all of the several sensations were about to do it for you.

“please… p-please! i can't...”

your voice breaks into a series of whimpers.

“i'm gonna... i need to cum... ahh please let me cum!”

they didn't stop their movements at all, drawing it out even slower to heighten the peak.

“yeah?”

he curled his fingers again and again just to see you tremble.

“you only get to cum when we say so.”

jungkook rasps against your clit before sucking into it even harder between his lips, humming vibrations through it making you twitch and wail out.

“please please.” you chant, your head thrashing side to side.

hoseok licks you all over, lapping at the lube and your juices mixed together. namjoon switched to your other nipple, biting down gently while his other hand massaged the first breast. the pressure built unbearably. your asshole and pussy clenching around the digits, every muscle in your body tensed, toes cuddling in your heels as the orgasm finally crashed over you with their permission.

“that's it, let go. cum for us.” yoongi commanded softly, his hand stroking your thigh.

your first orgasm of the night ripped through you and it was more intense than anything you've felt, the first best orgasm of your life. your pussy gushed around taehyung's fingers and your ass spasmed around yoongi's while you screamed, body shaking violently.

“ahh! fuckkk.”

you cursed as you saw stars behind your eyelids while they continued licking and fingering you through it. spurts of liquid left your pussy soaking the couch and their hands and they all groaned, licking at it. even yoongi leaned down to get a taste while making animalistic noises. the aftershocks making you twitch and whimper, your chest heaving as they slowly eased their fingers out making you whimper at the loss. their hands didn't leave you entirely, now murmuring praises.

“you did so well angel...” jimin cooed, kissing your thigh.

their eyes couldn't get enough of you as yoongi brought his glistening fingers to your lips for you to taste yourself.

“mhmm.” you licked obediently, feeling dazed and blissful, doing the same to taehyung's sloppily while still breathing hard.

they let you catch your breath while they looked at you with hunger and need that it made your chest tighten, wondering what they'd do next. that's when one by one they began to undress themselves fully, shedding off their dress shirts and pants that had already been partially opened. the clink of belts and the metallic sound of it makes your eyes hooded as you swallow, staring at them.

taehyung undressed first, taking off his shirt then pushed down his pants and boxers together, revealing his big cock. your eyes widened at how long it was, flushed at the tip from his need as he kicked away his pants. namjoon was next, taking off his shirt to reveal his muscular body, the type that came from gym sessions. his cock sprang free, thick and heavy, curving slightly upward with a prominent vein running along the underside, already glistening with precum.

jimin had all lean muscle, his abs rippling, the nevermind tattoo and the tattoos on his back as he revealed a perfectly shaped dick, not the longest but girthy enough to make your pussy clench at the sight, it looked like it was perfect to hit every sensitive spot. jungkook revealed his tattooed body next as he stripped, your mouth watering at the sight of his tattoos and muscles, revealing a cock that was both long and thick, veiny and aggressive looking, standing proud and pointing at you.

hoseok was confident in his bareness, he just seemed to have a flexible physique like he could put you in any position he wanted, his huge cock bouncing free, slapping against his stomach. jin moved next, revealing his broad chest and shoulder that you stared at with parted lips, his cock was thick as well and he was utterly shameless in it when he grabbed it and gave it a slow stroke, smirking at the way your eyes widened.

finally yoongi undressed last because he was too busy savoring your reactions to the others getting naked. his body was lean and strong, his pale skin makes him sexier and you gasped when his cock was exposed like it was a weapon, along with a slight thickness that promised deep thrusts and he was leaking steadily.

you were in pure awe as you took them all in, surrounded by such raw masculinity in every way possible. it felt so much more fierce because they were all bare. that you didn't even know whom to admire, you wished you had the capability to admire them all at once and to your heart's content. they were magnificent, each uniquely breathtaking and exerted dominance and masculine perfection and their cocks? they were all intimidating despite being different and you couldn't stop staring at them, you wondered if you were drooling.

you felt so incredibly powerful and unreal that you affected the men like that, they were all hard and leaking precum just for you. your pussy still throbbed from the aftershocks but couldn't stop clenching.

“oh my god...”

you whispered, your cheeks burning as you stared openly unable to look away. nothing in the world mattered in that moment except them, the way their bodies looked and the way muscles shifted under their hard and ready cocks because of you. you still couldn't believe that this was happening.

“you're all... so big.”

your tongue felt loose, the words leaving on their own. the men's egos boosted at your reaction, some smirking while the others looked at you heatedly. jungkook ran a hand through his hair, his piercing caught between his teeth.

“fuckk look at her staring like that, like we're the only thing she's ever wanted.”

he murmurs and namjoon chuckles deeply before nodding. you got that look in your eyes. they've had such powerful companies bow for them yet nothing compared to the way you looked at them right now. they didn't even want to compare you to anyone else, you were that special. they felt irresistible in your eyes.

“keep looking at us like that baby and we won't last long enough for everything we want to do to you.” hoseok grumbles.

you shifted forward onto your knees without needing much prompting, your knees sinking to the hard floor but jin quickly grabbed a cushion from the couch and gently placed it under your knees.

“don't want you bruising those pretty knees princess.” he says, stroking your hair once before stepping back as your heart flutters.

the seven of them formed a circle around you, their cocks at your eye level until you could get their clean male scent so well. your pussy dripping anew with eagerness. yoongi stepped forward first. he gathered your hair into a loose ponytail with one hand, pulling you close with a firm tug.

“open those sweet lips for me baby.” he rasps.

you parted your lips with a whimper and he slowly fed his cock into your mouth inch by inch. the taste of salty precum and clean skin made you moan as you took him deeper, your tongue swirling and he groaned, his eyes half closed in pleasure.

“good girl just like that. your mouth feels incredible.”

you relaxed your throat even more at the praise, wanting to do the best for him, taking him further until your nose brushed his pelvis, your eyes watering at the stretch. he held you there for long moments by your hair, savoring the tight heat then his hips started rolling lazily. his free hand caressed your cheek, thumb wiping away a stray tear.

“look at me while you take it… yeah just like that.” he growls.

the others watched intently, hands stroking their own cocks.

“she's handling yoongi so well.” hoseok commented huskily.

“look at her throat bulging a little, goddamn it.”

yoongi fucked your throat with such deepness that it left you gasping and moaning around him. he took your mouth for several long minutes, knowing others are still waiting so he reluctantly pulled out with a pop.

“perfect start sweetheart.” he praised.

jin moved in next, he tapped the head of his cock against your tongue almost immediately without letting you catch your breath. doing it a few times enough to make you whine.

“tongue out.” he ordered.

you obeyed dragging your tongue along his cock, letting out an “mmm” at the way he throbbed under your attention. then he guided you lower.

“now my balls suck them.”

jin was a balls kind of man, he had such sensitive balls and he loved it when they were sucked nice and gentle so you did exactly that. you leaned in, taking one into your mouth sucking while your tongue massaged it. your hand came up to cradle the other heavy one. jin let out a long satisfied moan, his head falling back.

“just like that... fuck… you're a natural. swirl your tongue more.”

you tried your best to follow his words, alternating between sucking and kicking while your other hand stroked his shaft as well, not leaving any part of him unattended. he grinned at how eager you were taking care of him so well even after everything they did to you earlier. you were worshipping his balls like they were your favorite treat.

“don't forget the rest of us baby.”

namjoon chuckles, the others making amused impatient noises, dying to get the feel of your mouth. your lips were already swollen and glistened when you pulled off jin's balls to breathe and he was about to slide his cock inside your mouth but hoseok was already taking his place next, his cock throbbing as he guided your head with one hand tangled in your hair.

“come here baby.” he murmurs, making your stomach flip.

your lips remained parted on their own so he slid it inside efficiently. your hand was placed on his thighs to hold on as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked.

“shitt.” hoseok groans, his hips beginning to fuck your mouth, each thrust pushing him deeper until the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. you gagged as you heard wet slaps of his skin meeting your face as he picked up the pace, your moans drawing vibrations around him.

“yes… yes keep sucking like you mean it.” he rasps.

“so fucking pretty with your mouth full.” hoseok rocks into your mouth with a few more rolls.

his fingers tightened just enough in your hair to guide you, snapping his hips and burying himself deeper inside your mouth. from his ragged breaths and groans you felt that he was close and he wasn't letting go so easily. saliva dripped down your chin and onto your bouncing breasts.

“ahh.” hoseok pants as you licked along the underside of his shaft on a particularly hard thrust.

“you're gonna make me lose it if you keep that up.”

you only quickened your movements as the men around you were feeding off the sight.

“easy there hobi, don't wear her out too soon.” taehyung teased.

“yeah save some of that energy for the rest of us, give us a chance,” namjoon added, pumping his fist slowly over his cock. jungkook beside him, doing the same.

hoseok even though he was so close, pulled back, breathing hard as he petted your head as if you'd done a good job. they'd all planned to cum together and hoseok didn't wanna break the rule first. namjoon cupped your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, his thumb brushing over your precum soaked lips.

“you okay baby? want more?” he asked, checking in before taking his own moment.

“hah y-yes.” you nodded eagerly.

he filled your mouth completely with his cock from how slippery it was from all the fluids of others and your drooling mouth. his hand moved to rest on your throat, just cough to feel the bulge of his cock with every roll forward and you gagged, tears streaming down your face as you tried your hardest to breathe through your nose. his fingers flexed slightly as he controlled the pace so you took him to the hilt, he groans at the way your throat constricts around him.

“this throat feels so tight and good.” he murmurs. eyes half lidded as he watches the outline move under his hand.

“ugnngh!” you make a throaty sound that makes his grip tighten more. he loves the sight of you choking on his cock.

“she's taking it all... so hot.” yoongi observed, his cock still glistening from when you'd sucked his earlier and he used that to stroke himself.

namjoon's thrust grows faster as he fucks your mouth and the eyes and praises of others made your head spin and your thighs squeezing together from the frustration and need to finish once again. jimin stepped up, not wanting to wait any longer and as namjoon's eyes fell on him, he slipped out with a growl.

“perfect... you're absolutely perfect.” jimin hums with a mischievous glint in his eyes. he rubbed the head of his cock along your bottom lip first, tapping it lightly against your tongue without fully entering inside your mouth, pulling back whenever you leaned forward eagerly.

“ah ah, not yet angel.” he cooed.

“chase it… show me how bad you want my cock.”

you let out a whine, eyeing his cock with glistening eyes, tongue out sluttily but he was having his fun making you work for it. you part your lips, your tongue darting out to taste him, only for him to shift his hips to pull his cock away from you at the last second, leaving you whimpering and shifting on your knees. you watched helplessly as a bead of precum left him that you couldn't catch with your tongue, your mouth watering for more.

when he finally let you have him, it was just the tip sliding past your lips before he withdrew again and he let out a smirk. he sure had incredible patience to do this because the others were eager for your mouth while jimin was taking his sweet time. he makes you chase after it, your lips trying to suck him in desperately, each time he allows you just the head of his cock licking off his precum.

“p-please.” you sobbed.

“don't be such a tease jimin.. give our girl what she wants.”

jungkook chuckles hotly and the others nodded with a grin enjoying jimin's little game

“she's loving it though, she'll work even better on me once he's done.” taehyung adds with a grunt, already having made up his mind that he will go next.

“yeah? you want it bad baby?” jimin snarls and before you could reply, he abruptly filled your mouth with his cock, making your eyes widen.

“then suck it good will you?”

you suckled instantly, like you've been given water itself after being thirsty for so long, bobbing your head while making sputtering noises.

taehyung's turn came too slowly as if he knew exactly what he was doing. he sat on the edge of the couch unlike others who decided to take your mouth, standing on his long legs, man spreading so you're able to kneel comfortably between them. his dark eyes locked onto yours without blinking. taehyung's focus was solely on you. he reached down to gently stroke your tear streaked cheeks, it was such a tender touch compared to how hard and throbbing he was against your lips.

“you ready baby?” he murmurs.

you flushed, parting your lips slowly as you enveloped him with your mouth lapping onto the very tip of him as his taste fills your senses. his hand continued to stroke your cheek like you were his darling even as you sucked deeper.

“ugh!” he hissed, hips twitching as he lets you set the pace at first, loving the way you lap at his tip.

“your mouth feels like heaven... keep those pretty eyes on me, don't look away.”

the eye contact made it even more intoxicating as you tried to look up at him through blurry vision due to your tears and it made it even more intimate while he hit the back of your throat.

“just like that.” his head falls back onto the couch with a gasp.

jungkook follows soon, walking up to you with his belt, pulling your mouth off taehyung's cock with a slight tug in your hair that makes you moan. he was so impatient and rough after waiting so long for everyone to have their turns, his hand gripping your hair hard enough for pain to mix with pleasure. taehyung watches with a smirk, a little annoyed that his fun was cut short but he lets the youngest have his fun.

jungkook clasped the belt around your throat like a collar making you gasp, he used it as a handle as he pushed his cock inside your mouth in one go. he growled at the feeling, rolling his hips, throaty noises coming out of you from how immediately he reached the depths of your throat.

“take it deeper… ugh just like that.”

his hips delivered more sharp pumps while pulling your head forward with the help of the belt and you struggled to breathe properly, choking on his cock and your tears, he slowed just a little after a while.

“breathe through your nose baby. you're doing amazing.” he grumbles.

you breathe shakily as he pulls his cock out for a bit to let you breathe.

“mmph-”

your noise gets interrupted because he lets you take one inhale before driving back inside your mouth with full force. what started as you giving jungkook head led to more when the desperation in the group increased and they couldn't keep themselves away especially from how near they were from jerking off and also from the attention you've given to every single one of them differently and you knew what the men wanted without even proper words as you slowly started switching between all seven of them.

there were seven cocks surrounding you in a loose circle and you struggled to even focus properly. one moment your mouth was full with jimin's length sliding in and out of your mouth while yoongi's hand guided your hand to his cock from the side so you'd be able to jerk him off simultaneously.

“ah ah... mmmphmm.”

a mix of their husky moans and your muffled noises was all that could be heard. next you were turning to take namjoon's girth while both your hands jerked hoseok's and jin's cocks in rhythm. your palms were fully slick with spit and precum as you stroked them from the base to the tip.

“she's literally made for this.” namjoon rumbles as he holds your jaw, thrusting into your mouth.

“she can handle all of us together uh-huh?” jungkook lets out an amused groaned noise.

the different tastes and sizes were sensory overload for you, jin's cock filling your mouth and you also switched to sucking his balls like he liked while jungkook rubbed his dick against your face, leaving wet trails of precum on your pink cheeks. their hands didn't leave your body either, fingers tweaking your nipples, stroking your thighs or even guiding your head to the next cock. all this made you drip all over the floor, your pussy producing so much essence. you pulled off taehyun's cock with a gasp, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his tip, only for hoseok to messily kiss you right after, his tongue tangling with yours and he growls at the saltiness from everyone before pushing your mouth back to yoongi's cock.

“oh...” you squealed.

when taehyung rubbed his cock against your cleavage, sliding down to flick your abused nipple with the tip of his cock

“tae pass her to me.” jungkook breathes out.

you whimpered as taehyung pushed your head on jungkook's cock so you'd be able to suck onto him while you twisted and pumped other cocks, occasionally leaning to lick or suck on balls or kiss the heads messily. no one came yet, they were holding back and edging themselves while you rotated between two or three cocks demanding your attention.

they noticed the way your thighs trembled and the sticky mess that was falling on the cushion between your legs and they didn't like neglecting you like that while you were working so hard on them. a shared look of understanding passed between taehyung and jungkook before they kneeled in front of you, making your eyes widen as they positioned you so your legs are spread while your mouth and hands are still able to work on others.

“ah-hahh, shit…”

jungkook and taehyung bury their heads between your spread thighs, their hot mouths devouring your pussy with hunger as your mouth couldn’t stop producing mindless noises. jungkook's tongue dragged slowly from your dripping entrance all the way up to your clit in long strokes, his lip piercing hitting your clit every time, sending shivers up your spine with every pass. taehyung focused on tracing every fold with the tip of his tongue, sucking on your clit whenever jungkook moved his focus on your opening.

“hmm...”

he hummed, the vibration along with the dual sensations was overwhelming. both their mouths worked insistently as if they had all the time in the world, their tongues occasionally brushing against each other sloppily while your hips bucked. around you, the other five men stroked their thick cocks with pumps of their fists, their dark eyes locked on your writhing body.

“fuckk.” namjoon breathes.

his large hand gripped his length firmly, thumb swiping over the leaking tip as he watched jungkook's tongue disappear inside you continuously. you looked so goddamn pretty taking both their tongues like that.

“she's making a mess joon. watch how much she’s leaking.”

seokjin's lips curved up in a smirk as he let out a raspy chuckle with namjoon, both of them stroking their cocks side by side.

“she sure is.” he groans.

jin couldn’t help himself as he leaned down to grope one of your heaving tits to roll and pinch the nipple until you whimpered. hoseok's hips suddenly snapped forward, slapping against your parted lips. he panted smearing his precum on your bottom lip.

“mmph!” you let out a muffled sob when in one go, hoseok stuffs your mouth full of cock, almost cutting off your airflow, his eyes growing half lidded with lust and pleasure. yoongi and jimin were almost hypnotized with the sight of your pussy being so thoroughly eaten as hoseok grabs the belt around your throat that was being used as a collar and uses it as leverage to fuck your throat. pulling you closer with sharp tugs of the belt, fucking your mouth like his personal sex toy while choking you with the collar.

gluck. gluck. gluck.

the wet sounds of your throat getting fucked were all that was ringing in your ears along with the obscene slurps and sucks from between your legs. the men around you let out shared masculine moans and groans. you let out broken whines that you couldn’t hold back no matter how hard you tried, struggling to breathe.

“oh god...”

jungkook growled against your cunt as the two mouths between your thighs pushed you higher and higher. they held you apart when your thighs trembled so the others could get the perfect view.

“you're clenching so damn much baby.”

taehyung grumbles as two of his fingers slide inside you effortlessly from how slippery and wet you were while jungkook's tongue focused on your clit with renewed vigor.

“she's probably gonna cum again… she’s squirming so much.” jimin says and the other men made noises of affirmations.

hoseok pulled his cock out not giving you a chance to catch your breath as yoongi takes position and is already grabbing a fistful of your hair. he feeds you his cock and you couldn't help but clench on jungkook's tongue, making him let out a muffled groan, diving in again while taehyung latched onto your clit.

“taste so fucking sweet, are you gonna cum again for us princess?” taehyung pulls back enough to speak.

“ummmhg.” you let out a whine on yoongi's cock and he smirked

“yeah you will?”

one of his fingers joining to curl inside your pussy, making you sob, your eyes closing on their own. the others around you stroked their cocks right in front of your faces, stroking faster and faster, their breaths growing ragged muscles tensing. they also made you switch between sucking cocks of whomever you could and squeezing until you almost forgot whose cock you were touching or whose one was getting inside your mouth, you just blindly followed whatever they guided on you while jungkook and taehyung kept fingering and licking you beneath, stroking their own cocks. your boobs sometimes groped or squeezed against their cocks and also slid against each other. their eyes devouring your tear streaked flushed face, your body twitching hard.

you knew that they were so close. one by one they began to cum in sequence. all you could hear were groans and curses and the noises of liquid hitting the floor. jungkook pulled back from your pussy when he reached his peak with a harsh breath, stroking himself furiously over your mound before letting thick ropes of cum land across your pussy lips and clit, painting them white.

“fuuuuck yes marking this cunt right up.”

he hissed through gritted teeth while taehyung continued licking around the mess tasting your juices and jungkooks release mixed together with a moan his hand working faster as well. you pant against jimin's thigh, your forehead rested against it, all your attention diverted to the men coming around you instead of your own pleasure. namjoon aimed for your open mouth as you panted, his cum shooting across your tongue.

“shallow for me, take every drop.”

he commanded and you obeyed, gulping down everything. there was a slight bitter edge to his cum and you loved it. seokjin followed next, groaning deeply as he came across your tits and stomach, squeezing the last beads onto your skin while you squirmed.

“shitt yes yes...”

hoseok lets out groans as he cums against your cheek and lips, some landing on your tongue as you lick it up instinctively. jimin and yoongi targeted your breasts and belly, adding to the mess that now coated your upper body and within a few minutes, taehyung cums all over your ass cheeks too. the sticky warm fluid was everywhere and there was so much of it sliding over your curves, dripping down your sides and mixing with your sweat. fingers from some of them joined in pushing their combined release into your mouth, feeding you more as you moaned around the digits.

“such a good little cumslut.”

yoongi murmurs, roughly pushing two fingers coated in cum past your lips for you to suck clean. the taste of their release mixed together was so erotic that you couldn't stop gasping and whimpering. their cum slid down your forehead and eyelashes and they loved it, it made them even more possessive at the sight of you glazed by them.

you were their personal canvas.

taehyung scooped some of his cum from your ass and brought it to your lips too.

“shallow it all down baby, show us how much you love being ours.” he exhales.

jungkook and hoseok rubbed their softening cocks against your cum covered tits, smearing the white fluid further while namjoon and jin worked with their fingers to gather more and feed it to you, making you drink copious amounts of seed.

jin made you clean his cock properly while he groaned in approval before yoongi joined in, letting you clean every trace of his release, sucking at the tip while he stroked your hair. hoseok went next, guiding your head as you took him deeper while residual cum dripped from your chin and onto his shaft. he murmurs out soft praises while you move to clean namjoon as well with slow licks, smiles on all their faces in the afterglow.

you cleaned taehyung and jungkook together while they caressed your cheeks sweetly, ending with jimin, finishing cleaning all of them thoroughly.

your breasts heaved with every inhale as there was silence for a bit while you leaned there on the floor, your thighs quivering from the multiple edges they'd brought you with their tongues and fingers. your mind was hazy after giving all of them head even though they'd made you swallow a lot of it. cum still dropped slowly from your chin and onto your collarbone, you could still taste some on your lips. jungkook panted and moved closer first as he looked at you with lingering hunger as he brushed a strand of hair from your sticky forehead.

“so beautiful covered in us... you took everything we gave you.” he murmurs in genuine awe.

taehyung nodded in response.

“are you feeling okay y/n?”

the others gathered closer too. hoseok wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, jimin biting his lip as he admired the view and yoongi watched you, all of them waiting for your response. you nodded weakly at first, your throat hurting from sucking them and the constant moaning.

“i... am good more than good, that was...”

you couldn't find the proper words to finish your sentence but you were honest, it was everything and you shifted slightly, still feeling the ache of your unfinished release. the men exchanged glances, silent communication passing through them.

“she's still with us guys.”

jungkook said with a grin, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your forehead. jin reaches down to take off the belt from around your throat, letting you breathe properly. the belt left a pink mark that made them let out appreciative noises.

“drink some water first, you've worked hard and if we're gonna keep this going, you need to stay hydrated.”

hoseok coos as he walks over to grab a cool water bottle from the fridge, having no shame in walking around naked, his cock bouncing and it makes you flush harder. he uncapped it, holding it to your lips himself, tilting it carefully so you could sip slowly. it soothed your raw throat as you drank greedily, some of it spilled down your throat mixing with their cum.

even drinking water looked sinful on you.

they let you rest for a few longer minutes, their presence comforting you, hands roaming soothingly on your body while murmuring praises about how responsive you've been and how well you took them.

“think she's ready for more?” taehyung asked the group.

“she's nodding already, she's eager... aren't you angel?”

you smiled as you let out a sigh.

“yeah... i wanna continue.”

you admitted, your voice gaining new strength, no longer hoarse after the water and the break from them. the men lit up with renewed need, their cocks already twitching back to life at your words.

after a few more minutes of the rest period, they also helped wipe you clean with some tissues, not wanting you to be uncomfortable because of the stickiness and for what was coming next and they did that slowly, taking their time even if some of their cocks were already standing hard.

seokjin scooped you up as if you weighed nothing and into a bridal style, your body pressing against his chest. you gasped at the sudden lift, your arms wrapping around his neck, feeling his heart thud beneath your palm which told you that his heartbeat matched with yours. the others followed as jin carried you upstairs, your head resting against his chest, inhaling his scent.

“we've got you beautiful.” jin whispered.

they led you into the massive master bedroom which had a soft light giving a sensual glow. jin laid you gently in the very center of the bed, your body sinking into the mattress while they stood taking you in and how your thighs pressed together instinctively. there was so much desperation and anticipation. you were gonna lose a lot of fluids before the nights over so they were glad that you drank water.

“tell us baby... do you wanna keep going?”

you nodded, feeling impatient but still a little over the moon from their constant checks but you felt so good and naughty that you couldn't stop anymore.

“i want you all raw please... i-i'm on birth control, i want you inside..” you whine sultrily.

you didn't give them a moment to react before you shifted onto your hands and knees in the center of the bed, arching your back, invitingly presenting yourself to him. your ass swayed slightly as you looked over your shoulder and at them with half lidded eyes, your hair falling on one shoulder.

“make me yours tonight, use me like your little toy.”

the words came out confidently with no hint of nervousness, all your shyness and shame gone as you wiggled your hips in an attempt to seduce as if they weren't already. your spread thighs gave them the best view of your cum soaked puffy pussy. you have no idea what you've just unleashed and you're gonna face the consequences of that.

“did you hear that guys? she's already begging to be bred.” namjoon said with a wicked smile.

“that's exactly what we're gonna do.” jimin adds.

they couldn't wait to watch you take every load of cum inside your pussy. they've been pretty lenient with your mouth but they don't think that they'll go any easier on all your holes when you've just given them free rein. hours of pleasure were still to arrive.

yoongi of course was the first one to claim you based on the knowing look from the others who knew that he was going to be first as a primal look took place in his expression. without a word at first, he pulled you onto his lap in reverse cowgirl position making you yelp. your back pressed flush against his chest so that every other man in the room had a perfect view of your body. he gripped your hips firmly before one wrapped up to wrap around your throat making your breath hitch.

“y-yoongi..” you stammered as he bites your earlobe.

“sir. call us sir.” he corrects you, making you swallow, already lifting your hips enough to keep you suspended over his cock.

“sir... ahhh, oh my gosh.”

he rolls his hips, letting the head of his cock drag between your folds teasingly before notching himself right at your entrance and sliding inside you inch by inch while you can't stop writhing.

“nghh.” you let out a mewl when he was fully seated and he didn't waste much time before starting to thrust, the head of his cock dragging inside you with every grind making your walls flutter around him.

“so fucking tight.”

he grunts, his eyes half closing. the feeling was better than any drugs or money could provide, the feeling of your warm tight hole around him. the other men were already feeling jealous and extremely impatient, wanting to get a feel of your pussy too. they started pumping their cock with their hands, all their eyes locked on where yoongi's cock disappeared inside your dripping cunt.

in and out. in and out.

“ahh fuck... you're squeezing me so good like you never want me to leave this pussy.” he growls.

his thrusts remained torturous, sometimes circling his hips in a way to make him go deep and it made you let out the most delicious noises, his lips brushing against your ear as his grip on your throat tightened just a fraction. his free hand slid down to spread your folds wider with two fingers to expose you for the viewing pleasure of others and they could see every intricate detail of how he fucked you. the way his cock filled you and pressed against your inner walls, your body trembled as did your thighs on either side of his legs from their gazes.

you were also shocked at how they were all rock hard again so soon, their cocks hard and heavy as they jerked themselves lazily, enjoying the show yoongi was putting on. your pussy clenched around yoongi's length as he fucked you with measured thrusts that seemed to reach deeper than physically possible. the hand around your throat made your head spin, heightening every sensation until you felt like you might shatter. you were also having a cock inside you after years and he was so big that you couldn't remain still, it felt like you might shatter any moment.

“yoongi… oh god, it's so deep.” you gasped out, hands gripping his thighs for leverage as you tried to meet his thrusts.

he chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back as he picks up the pace just a notch, snapping his hips up.

“too much for you huh?”

“let them know how much you love it shitt.”

he sent you spiraling, your walls fluttering as you felt the orgasm build for the second time tonight, your entire body tensing. the others couldn't take their eyes off you, their chests tightening along with their hands on their cocks. with a final deep thrust and a loud groan, he buried himself fully inside you, his cock twitching as he spilled thick ropes of cum inside you.

“yess yes...”

you babbled as his cock kept moving, some of his cum pushing out with his pumps. it triggered your own climax crashing over you hard making you convulse hard around him, your juices coming out as your back arched against him.

“that's it.”

he encouraged, his hand loosening on your throat to grip both your thighs as he kept going slowly through both your orgasms, ensuring you felt every throb. the others let out groans as well, their strokes pausing momentarily at how you both orgasmed.

“you tired her out already man.” hoseok laughed breathlessly, his cock twitching.

yoongi stayed inside you for a long moment, grinding to push his cum deeper as you rested against him while breathing hard. he didn't wanna leave the feel of you around him so soonbbut he reluctantly eased out with a wet pop, a trail of fluid leaking down your thighs. you made a frustrated little sound at the empty feeling. hoseok gave yoongi a smirk, the energy was practically wafting off him even before he reached you as he patted yoongi on the shoulder.

“you set the bar high didn't you huh?”

yoongi's lips curled, feeling satisfied but already looking forward to his next turn with you.

“take your time with her then.” he whispers to hoseok.

you were already limp, pussy clenching around nothing, eyes glassy as you looked up at hoseok. he flipped you onto all fours, positioning you to face the large mirror on the opposite wall so you could watch yourself while the others got a view too and it already has you panting. he lined up behind you and right on your slit, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. he didn't give you any moment to suck in a breath, it was so abrupt it knocked the air out of your lungs. he slammed home all the way inside with one thrust, stretching you open again amidst yoongi's cum.

“ahhh!” you screamed.

the hard fucking began immediately, his hips snapping forward relentlessly, his balls hitting your clit with every deep plunge. each thrust drove you forward slightly on the bed, your breasts swinging while you watched your face contorted in pleasure in the mirror along with the way his cock drove inside you and it made you even hornier and turned on.

“look at yourself and how good this cunt is taking my cock.” he snarled.

his one hand fisted your hair to keep your head up, forcing you to watch yourself. the others made manly noises enthusiastically, full of dirtiness.

“go harder hobi, she loves it rough.” jungkook urged

“she's absolutely gone.” jimin chuckles darkly, watching you in the mirror, leaning closer for a better view.

“uh… uh… uh…”

you let out with each thrust of his. the position and the angle make hoseok hit that spot inside you over and over and especially that combined with the cum inside you makes everything wetter, sloppier, more obscene. your walls fluttered wildly as you felt another of your orgasms building so fast from the brutal pace.

“s-s-sir, it's so good gahh!” you moaned loudly, pushing back against him desperately.

hoseok had started pounding into you with an intensity, his hands gripping your hips to keep you anchored in one place, your walls fluttering around him as the pressure built higher and higher towards another peak. hoseok's breath came in growls as he chased his own release he was so close to.

“gonna fill this pretty pussy up.” he groans but just as your orgasm hovered right on the brink, it all suddenly stopped.

jungkook moved closer all of a sudden, his hand shooting forward with determination.

“it's my turn now.”

jungkook gruffs out. it was like he was possessed by lust at the sight of your pussy being taken by others and he couldn't control himself, all he wanted was to feel you around him and couldn't even wait for a single moment. he was already pulling hoseok back by the shoulder and he let out a frustrated groan, his cock slipping out of your dripping heat.

“jungkook what the fuck? i was so close, she was right there clenching like she was going to cum any second too.”

hoseok complained, his cock throbbing angrily in the air, glistening as he shot jungkook a half annoyed and half amused glare, wiping sweat from his brow as he stepped aside reluctantly.

“you can have her right after man.” jungkook promised with a smirk at his lips. he scooped you up in a second from the bed as if you were nothing more than a delicate doll made for his pleasure.

“right now i wanna have her like this and fuck her.” he declared smugly, his eyes locked on yours in a way that makes your stomach flip.

it makes you let out a long moan because you loved it and this is what you wanted, wanted them to reduce you to their sexual plaything to pass around and claim as they pleased and it sent a shameful heat to your core. it turned you on more than you care to admit. another gush of wetness trickled down your thighs as jungkook maneuvered you into position. everyone was silent for a beat, a little shocked at the raw power jungkook exerted himself when he lifted you completely off the ground and into a full suspended hold, his strong arms hooked under your knees, folding your legs up and apart and blanching you like that, completely immobilizing you and exposing you. somehow the position made your puffy pussy get even more exposed to everyone. your back pressed against his chest while he stood as if he wasn't just balancing your whole body with just his arms alone.

you yelped sharply at the vulnerability of it all, your body suspended mid air, utterly at his mercy, your heels dangling.

“j-jungkook—”

he cut off your words with a click of his tongue, making a disapproving noise.

“yoongi specified to call us all 'sir' didn't he? you're seeking to get punished hmm?”

your lips part from his words, the position working against you in the nastiest way.

“i'm sorry sir.” you signed.

“now that's more like it.”

“she looks so helpless like that.” namjoon murmurs from the side, watching the way your pussy lips parted invitingly.

“jungkook's showing off his strength again.”

taehyung nods, grabbing a cigarette from the drawer beside him and lighting it with a flick of his lighter, taking a puff of smoke and blowing it out while his other hand strokes his cock.

“stretch that cunt wide for us.” seokjin grins.

“she's probably just soaking even more just from being held like that.”

hoseok adds, watching patiently, waiting to strike as soon as jungkook finishes but enjoying the show as well. jungkook adjusted his grip, his cock nudging insistently against your entrance. he teases you for a bit, rubbing the broad head up and down your slick folds, coating himself in your essence while you whimpered and squirmed in his hold.

“you want this don't you baby? want me to fuck you mid air like the needy slut you are for us?” he growled hotly against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“ohh yes please sirr... fuck me..”

and as quick as those words left your lips, jungkook slowly buried himself inside you, the sheer force lifting you slightly higher before gravity pulled you back down on his length. you saw stars behind your eyes from his size and the position made you tighter than anything. you cried out when he started moving using his immense strength to bounce you up and down his cock. each upward drive of his hips sent his cock slamming into you, producing loud wet noises as your juices coated him and dropped down onto the floor below.

“aaahh… yes…”

your body jolted, tits jiggling wildly, your head thrown back against his shoulder as moans poured uncontrollably from your lips. he kept his hands tight below your thighs, it kept unable to do anything more than take everything he gave you. his muscles strained from the efforts, veins popping along his arms and neck but he showed no signs of tiring, only pure focus.

“shittt she's creaming all over your cock already.” jimin observed.

“pound that pussy kook.” taehyung whistles, taking in another puff of his cigarette.

“don't forget to save some for me later, you greedy brat.”

hoseok added with a laugh. jungkook was clearly wearing you out quickly and the words from them only seemed to fuel him further. his thrusts are growing faster and harder, your cries escalating. he adjusted the angle slightly, grinding deep on every downstroke so his cock head kissed your cervix repeatedly while your pussy tightly held him, he felt so much bigger than he already was. the pressure built rapidly inside you, the unfinished orgasm from hoseok has left it coming back in full force so that it was almost painful, your clit twitching hard and untouched.

“sirrr gahh fuck i'm gonna—” your voice breaks in a wail.

“cum for me, let everyone watch.”

he commanded through gritted teeth, his own release approaching fast as he felt your pussy spasming. a loud scream that ended in a sob left you as you came harder than you ever had, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. you'd never squirted ever in your life and it was the very first time that your body couldn't keep up with it. clear fluid gushed out around his pistoning cock in squirts, soaking his thighs fully and landing so much of it down to the floor in a puddle. your vision whitened, every inch of your body locking up in ecstasy. jungkook groaned deeply, the feeling of your squirting pussy pushing him over the edge.

“fuckk yes take it all.”

he roared, burying himself as deep as he could, his cock pulsing hard inside you, thick cum flooding your womb in seconds, filling you to the brim. he held you there suspended, both of you panting and trembling, his cum mixing with your squirt.

“damnn she squirted so much...” hoseok grins, already moving closer.

“good job kook. now hand her over, i still need to finish what i started.”

jungkook slowly lowered you down onto the bed and you fell on your stomach from how exhausted you were even though you anticipated the other five of them. hoseok took his second turn hard and rough, he was already so close due to being inside your pussy the first time and the frustration had left him rougher than usual.

“fuckkk.” he snarls as he slides inside you with a loud noise from behind. you let out a wanton noise, murmuring his name.

“oh shit—oh shit—!”

you let out a string of curses when he reached around to rub your neglected clit in circles, feeling how engorged it is since nobody touched it for a while.

“goshhh yes.” you whined at it. your mouth fell open in an 'o' when it took him just a few more hard thrusts to fill you to the brim. there was so much cum from jungkook before as well that it soaked the sheets and made your thighs sticky with the creamy white mess. he pulled away from you with a shaky breath.

they let you have a few minutes of breath, your head buried on the pillow as your lower body quivered.

jin slowly walks forward, his hands settled on your back, caressing your sweaty skin. your hand fisted the sheets as you turned your head, your eyes longingly looking at his pouty lips and he didn't think twice and pressed his lips against yours, giving you a slow kiss. you whimpered when he pulled back, his arms pulling you close to him. his hands settled on your hips as he lay back against the pillows, one arm casually folding behind his head, his half lidded eyes sparkling with playfulness settled on you he guided you to straddle him, his thick cock standing proud and flushed against his abdomen.

“come on baby.” he whispers, stroking your ass.

“ride me. move those hips for me yeah?” he rasps. you felt a heat pool in your belly at his words as you sat on his hard stomach, breasts heaving as he cupped your cheek. your hips pressed against his abs, he helped you right above his cock, your breaths coming out fast.

“slowly…” he encouraged and you nodded jerkily as the head of him pressed against your puffy entrance.

you felt overstimulated in the best way and from cumming twice, it left you feeling floaty. he slowly stretched you open, giving you that burn that made your thighs tremble around his waist as you bore down more with a few gasps and sank down fully, his girth filling you completely until your ass met his hips and you were fully seated around him.

“hahhh!” you mewled as jin's face twisted in pleasure and at the feeling of your creamy cunt from all the loads you'd taken, it had left you warmer and even better inside. his free hand slid up your side before cupping one of your breasts, his thumb brushing over your nipple in tiny flicks that sent jolts through you.

“fuckk that's it.”

he groaned, his head tilting back slightly to expose the column of his throat, his adam's apple bobbing as he savored the tight heat enveloping him.

“move sweetheart. ride my cock like you mean it.”

he didn't push you at all, his hand caressed one of your butt cheeks, holding it spread so the others from behind could stare at the way his cock was inside you while he let you set the pace. your hands braced on his chest for balance as you began to roll your hips, lifting and sinking down in a slow grinding rhythm that dragged his cock along your inner walls with every motion.

“nnn… nnn… ahhh…”

pleasure started to build and he didn't push you so you were able to please yourself on him and he understood that you were a bit overstimulated so this was really helping you as you enjoyed yourself.

he hit the best spots on every downward stroke and your toes curled at the tingling feeling, your breath came out in needy squeals. sweat trickled down your back as the pace gradually quickened, your breasts bouncing with the movement and jin was hypnotized with the motion. his hand tightened on you, his jaw clenching with restraint as he helped you bounce on him, just bucking his hips up a little bit to meet you driving himself deeper. quiet whimpers left you. from the side of the bed, yoongi had been watching his lips parted slightly, lost in his control even though he'd had this turn at the very beginning but he couldn't help it.

“can't just sit here and watch anymore.”

he mutters huskily as he moves closer on the bed, positioning himself right beside seokjin. his hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wider as you continued riding seokjin and then his mouth was on you so suddenly you choked out and gripped his hair in shock.

“w-what—” you gasped when his mouth grabbed onto your clit, sucking onto it making your entire body jerk.

“mmm so sweet..”

he hummed as he circled your clit, flicking at it with his tongue, teasing it before sucking it fully inside his mouth. his tongue technology was everything, he was an expert and so skilled it was so good, he was the best at eating pussy, sometimes lapping along your folds where they stretched around jin's cock.

“nnn… y-yes.”

your eyes closes, your motions faltering on jin's cock from taking both of them. it felt too much with the drag of jin's cock combined with yoongi's expert mouth devouring you. you almost lost yourself in the sensation of yoongi's tongue when a burst of pain from the spank of jin's hand made your eyes pop open with a cry, his hand immediately soothing the spot.

“don't stop moving.” jin commanded, a glare on his face, delivering another slight spank that made your pussy clench hard around him.

“keep riding me while yoongi eats your clit. you can take it yeah?”

the pain pleasure mix made you moan loudly, your movements resuming on their own with urgency, grinding down harder and faster as yoongi's tongue lapped at the mess where you and seokjin were joined, tasting both of you and also the mix of others that leaked out of you without hesitation, letting out groans at the taste. the others eyes gleamed at the pornographic sight.

“look at her go.”

jungkook breathed, biting his lower lip, watching the way yoongi's tongue worked on you while you quivered constantly and drooled from how intense it was for you.

“ride him harder, make him feel it.” jimin calls out. the others laughed lazily at his words.

“don't go easy on her man!”

he didn't go easy on you at all as jin tensed beneath you, his hips snapping up more insistently now to meet your frantic rides, his cock swelling inside you.

“shit i'm gonna cum.” he gasped.

his hand that was behind his head now gripping your waist with both hands to pull you down hard repeatedly as he thrusts up at you.

“milk me baby cum with me.” he encourages roughly.

all this while, yoongi's tongue never stopped sucking on your clit with the perfect pressure.

“don't stop—don't—ahhh!”

“never gonna stop baby.”

jin promises and after a particularly harsh suck from yoongi that even jin could feel on his cock, he finishes with hot spurts of his cum flooding you that pushed you right over the edge. you came even faster and harder than you expected while his cock draws out every drop. you let out a series of gasps as juices mixed with his cum coated yoongi's chin as he continued licking through it to prolong the contractions. the full wet heat and the sting on your ass from the spanks made you feel like you broke as seokjin held you close, still impaled on his cock. yoongi pulled back with a satisfied noise, lips shiny and swollen.

before you could catch a breath, taehyung and jimin came over to you, not one but two and the thrill of what the two of them were going to do made your eyes go round comically. taehyung was the first to grab your waist and pull you firmly against his chest, the smell of tobacco and sex clinging to him, while jimin slid in from the other side, pressing against your back until the both of them sandwiched you, his lips brushing your ear as his fingers traced patterns on your skin.

“we've been waiting to feel this tight body up close.” jimin whispers, and taehyung nibbled at your collarbone.

“i can already tell she's gonna feel so tight around me.”

he adds, earning a smirk from jimin and you shuddered violently at their words. with slowness, taehyung and jimin both together worked to take off your thigh high stockings and your heels, taking off the only set of clothes on your body and now you were fully naked from head to toe. after that taehyung grabbed a silk tie from the drawer.

“put those hands up..” he coos and you gulp but obey shakily.

he bound your wrists above your head to the headboard. he tied it securely but not too tight, just enough to make sure you couldn't get out of it no matter how hard you tried. he leaned down, pressing soft kisses along your arms, lingering on the pulse point at your wrist, smiling at the way it raced.

“is this okay love? not too tight is it?” he asked and you nodded breathlessly, the vulnerability of being tied down made everything heightened for you. jimin watched, his hands already sliding down to pry your thighs wide apart.

“good.” jimin nods as he holds you open.

“damn they've really did a number on her…” jimin husks, watching the copious amount of cum your pussy seemed to leak.

taehyung settled between your thighs, not being able to hold himself back from the lewd sight of your stuffed cunt. his cock nudges against your folds, coating himself in your juices and he grunts at the feeling of hitting the tip of his cock on your clit, making your hips twitch with a whimper but jimin kept you pinned and open, not letting your thighs close. namjoon slowly joins the duo too, his hand cupping your jaw to turn your face toward him for a kiss.

“mnnn…” you let out a muffled noise, kissing him back, both your tongues tangling messily while his hand roamed to your breasts, rolling and pinching your nipples. taehyung's cock finally on the other hand, pushed inside you inch by thick inch and you moaned and cried loudly into namjoon's mouth, who was busy sucking on your tongue, his fingers tugging your nipples until they ached.

“she feels incredible fuckk.”

taehyung groaned deeply as he bottomed out inside you, his hips flush against yours, pelvis grinding against you which stimulated your clit too.

“so tight so hot, this pussy was made for us wasn't it princess mhm?” he grumbles as he feels you pull him in deeper with every little twitch.

“unngh..”

you let out another moan against namjoon's mouth while taehyung pulled back almost completely before sliding in again with that torturous slowness, making his cock drag against your inner walls and it made a loud squelch sound from how wet you are. namjoon kissed you more insistently, his teeth grazing your lower lip before he pulled back to let you breathe as he watched your face contort from ecstasy, his fingers not stopping playing with your nipples, kneading the flesh until they were more swollen than before, it made a slight pain mix with it.

“hnngh… ngh… mmh…” you let out all your desired noises after namjoon pulled away. he sometimes focused on sucking on your nipple too.

“that's it tae fuck her, watch the way her pussy clenches around you hm.. she's loving every second,”

jimin was mesmerized with the way taehyungs cock slides in and out especially from getting a proper close up view now instead of standing away, his hands faltering on holding your thighs open. taehyung lets out an approved grunt at his words while you struggle to keep up with all three of them playing with your body like this, you can't even move or shift due to being tied down, your hands clenching into tight fists, knuckles turning white. tears welled in your eyes as taehyung hits your g-spot, his breathing growing ragged as he grows increasingly close to his release.

“i'm so close..” he groans, pounding into you, making your body shift forward so hard that you had to grip the headboard.

“ahh.”

you and taehyung let out shared groans as he buried himself to the hilt and came hard. ropes of cum painted your inner walls as he stayed inside next for long moments, grinding to push his release deeper and leaning down into you, kissing your neck. taehyung shoots jimin a look before pulling out with a wet dirty sound, his cum already starting to leak from your used hole as jimin took his place seamlessly in the same missionary position. taehyung was the one now holding your thighs apart, spreading you wider so everyone could see the mess as jimin's cock slid between your cum slick pussy with ease from so much fluid making him so slippery that he lets out a breathless chuckle. namjoon shifted impatiently, watching taehyung and jimin take turns with you and he was the only one left so he rubbed his cock against the side of your face, smearing precum across your cheek before tapping it against your lips.

“open up angel, suck me while jimin fucks you.” he pants.

your lips part wetly to take him in as he slides inside and at the same time, jimin slides inside you.

“ugnngh!” you sobbed around namjoon's cock, tears streaming down your face.

“oh goddd she's even sloppier, it feels like heaven.”

you let out muffled groans around namjoon's shaft as he slowly started pumping. taehyung leaned down to kiss wherever he could reach, your neck, your breasts, your stomach while he kept your legs pinned. the others watched everything, the satisfied group did so after they had their chance, stroking themselves and throwing their dirty crude comments and murmuring among themselves about you and it makes you feel wilder. a bit more animalistic. you were completely a crying mess by now, your body trembling from the overstimulation from your cunt being taken again and again while you couldn't moan or breathe properly due to namjoon's cock. jimin's thrusts grew faster while you sucked namjoon. taehyung hadn't let you cum earlier so even before jimin had cum, you started cumming on him while thrashing, your hair falling messily on your face, your pussy clenching and gushing. your body tried to buck but couldn't from your hands being tied and your legs held.

“yesss!”

jimin moans out, letting out some sweet whimpers too at how hard you were clenching on him like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth. namjoon held your head steadily, giving a few thrusts before pulling back slightly from your mouth and you gasped for air loudly.

“she's our girl for sure… keep going jimin.” namjoon snarls.

the feeling of you cumming around his cock so quick made him cum almost soon after as well, some landing on your stomach as namjoon watched, stroking his saliva coated cock. namjoon carefully turned you onto your stomach and then guided your hips up, positioning you on your knees while your upper body remained pressed against the sheets. he spread your ass to press his throbbing cock against your pussy, groaning low in his throat. behind you, jungkook moved in closer, his lip piercing pressing against your skin as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade, your stomach flutters at having him close once again.

“we're gonna take you together now baby, me in this tight ass while namjoon takes this pussy, do you understand?”

“i wanna hear you say it...” he rasps.

your mind was hazy with lust, tears of pleasure drying on your cheeks, it's like you existed for it only and you were willing to take whatever they gave you.

“y-yes p-please... i want it please.” you gasped out, needily pushing back against namjoon's cock.

“i want both of you.”

jungkook chuckles against your skin as he reaches for the bottle of lube on the bedside table that taehyung has brought with him while coming upstairs as if he just knew it'd be needed again soon. he poured a generous amount over his cock, stroking himself slowly, mixing his precum with him and making himself so slick while he breathed heavily. he added more lube directly to the right ring of muscle of your ass that was exposed from being held open by namjoon. he did it patiently, coating your outside completely and some of the cum and fluids had also dripped down to your ass so you were already so wet but he didn't wanna hurt you in any way and wanted to make sure that you were comfortable.

“ohh...”

you moaned when one of his fingers penetrated you, lubing your insides too while namjoon continued rubbing his cock head against your pussy, dipping just the tip in and out to keep you on edge making you tense.

“relax i'm gonna make it feel so good for you sweet girl.”

jungkook promised, his free hand keeps your ass cheeks spread more as he worked a second finger in scissoring to prepare you just like yoongi had done downstairs. he crooked his fingers just right, brushing against the special spot making you sputter as your head thrashed side to side, not being able to make much movement from being tied down. namjoon leaned down, his chest pressing against your back.

“you're taking kook's fingers like a champ.” he praised.

when jungkook finally deemed you ready, your ass stopped clenching too tight and had started fluttering instead in anticipation. he pulled his fingers free and lined up his lubed cock at your ass.

“ohhhhh fuck…”

you sobbed when your ass stretched immensely around his cock, your entire body shaking as he sank deeper, his groans mixing with yours at the feel of the tight channel.

“so fucking tight, let me in... yes.” he gritted out, one hand reaching around to rub your clit to distract you from the pain and it definitely did help as you breathed in and out.

when jungkook was halfway in, namjoon thrusted forward, burying his massive cock into your pussy in one stroke from how slick and gaping you were from taking multiple dicks there and jungkook was on the way to doing to the same training for your asshole too. it felt so overwhelmingly good yet so much, both their cock's met each other through the wall separating your holes, creating a pressure that made your eyes roll back so hard that there was only white visible, your legs kicking on the edge of the bed. namjoon's cock hit that perfect spot inside you while jungkook created a deeper fullness. it felt weird to have something inside your ass but it was forbiddenly good and you wanted more of it, your eyes went unseeing when he went all the way inside, pushing and gushing so much. the lube made everything slick and slippery so jungkook slided in and out with ease. they alternated, one pulling out while the other pushed in, thrusts that rocked your entire body upwards as you held onto the headboard desperately.

“hah… hahgh o-oh.”

namjoon growls, his hand fisting in your hair so your head shifts slightly and the others can see your blissed out face. jungkook's hips snapped harder, his balls slapping against your ass as he buried himself to the hilt. you couldn't stop making wanton noises, your stomach coiling from the dual penetration and it seemed to edge you so fast.

“i'm… i'm gonna oh—”

you wailed as you heard the slapping noises of skin meeting skin and the way namjoon and jungkook fucked you. the others around you were jerking their cocks faster so fascinated yet feeling so animal at the scene before the and they were so close to losing all self control.

you came hard around namjoon's cock, your pussy clenching violently around his shaft while your ass fluttered on jungkook's cock. your limbs shook uncontrollably against the ties as your forehead rested on the headboard as you tried to breathe wildly. namjoon followed right after, his thrusts growing erratic as he buried himself deep and came flooding your pussy with cum.

“fucking shitt.”

he lets out a string of curses, grinding deeper against you to push his release deeper while jungkook continues fucking your ass through the orgasm, drawing it out until you are oversensitive, his cock inside your ass makes you forget about the overstimulation of your pussy momentarily. the feeling of namjoon's cum leaking around his cock as he stayed inside you combined with jungkook's pace left your mind fully blank, you couldn't even produce proper words other than helpless moans. the aftershocks making your holes flutter around their cocks as they held you there, not pulling out yet

namjoon and jungkook slowly pulled out of you after a while, there seemed to be a certain shift in the air, like the wait had finally snapped. after seeing your flexibility and impressive energy, capable of being able to take two cocks at a time. they surrounded you on the bed, closing in like you had nowhere to escape.

namjoon and jungkook and taehyung were still beside you, their eyes all holding obsession and need as their eyes traced your flushed trembling form and the way that there was a large wet spot on the sheets. your wrists were freed from the tie by yoongi so you won't be restricted and they could put you in any position they want.

“color?” hoseok asks you with genuine concern.

“if it's too much, tell us.” taehyung adds.

his hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your swollen lip. their hands hovering, cocks leaking against your thigh but waiting for your consent before proceeding, knowing you already took a lot. jimin leaned in to press a kiss against your temple.

“you're shaking so much but we won't push you unless you're okay.” hoseok croons while you gasp for breath, your heart pounding and slowing down as minutes pass by.

“green...”

that's the only word you managed to get out as you looked at them with glassy eyes and they all groaned together.

“that's our girl for sure.”

jungkook grumbles and the others made noises of agreement at how perfect you are and how your body opened up and gave itself to them so easily even after everything, you wanted to take more. they knew that you were the one for them.

they closed in fully and before you knew it, hands and mouths were on you all at once and everywhere. kisses went down your neck, shoulders, breasts and stomach, open mouthed kisses. teeth grazed your collarbones while tongues soothed the sting, fingers tangling in your hair and stroking your sides and ass. they teased every sensitive spot on your body. it was sensory overload as the heat of their bodies pressed close.

“haa…”

jimin was the first to claim your pussy, sliding his cock through your slit with a groan. he pushed in slowly at first, feeling your walls trying to pull him in like a magnet from earlier orgasms. namjoon positioned himself behind you, his cock pressing against your asshole. he didn't need to use more lube because there were already residuals of it from earlier and you were so full of fluids.

“gahh!”

you made a throaty noise, hands fisting the bedsheets as he worked his way inside your ass as well. jimin's thrusts rubbed against that spot inside you perfectly while namjoon's cock filled your ass. their hips snapping in sync, both their heavy cocks slapping against you, making pating noises while you sobbed out almost pornographic noises, not even recognizing the noises you made yourself. at the same time jungkook moved closer to your head, his hand wrapped around your cock, guiding your mouth open with the tip of it.

“let me feel that throat baby.” he growls, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he pushes deeper.

you moaned loudly as he immediately hit the back of your throat, tears welling in your eyes anew while jimin and namjoon continued fucking. taehyung on the other hand, slides his heavy cock between your breasts, squeezing them together around his length with a groan which were bouncing automatically from thrusts causing friction on his length.

“these are so soft.” he grunts. he loved the way they felt around his cock, his precum causing his dick to glide easily, his thumbs flicking your nipples with every moment. jin and hoseok claim your hands next, wrapping your fingers around their throbbing cocks. your palms were guided up and down their lengths with their larger hands covering yours, setting a firm pace.

“stroke me good baby.” hoseok says, their hips bucking into your grip, abs flexing.

“gahhsh hahh mmphh.”

you make mindless muffled sobbing noises on jungkook's cock while being stimulated in every way possible. they continued without pause, jimin fucking your pussy with deep strokes while namjoon pounded your ass. jungkook used your mouth like a toy, like it was just a warm wet sleeve for him to use as he alternated between deep throats and quicker thrusts. taehyung's cock slid messily between your breasts, leaving them glistening and he let out grunts. jin's and hoseok's cocks were twitching in your grip.

yoongi was the only one left to join and he was standing close to the bed, watching everything and the chaos with feral eyes, tracking every noise of yours and the slap of skin as the other men claimed you. his hand paused on his cock, his chest rising and falling as he saw you being used so thoroughly. jimin was buried deep inside your pussy already but yoongi could see the way your walls clenched and fluttered, begging for more. the stretch was not yet complete and that alone made his cock twitch. you were his adorable little slut and stretched so wide and still hungry for more. the other men also noticed that yoongi didn't join as they egged him on, turning to look at him.

“yoongi's been holding back.”

hoseok chuckled, guiding your hand along his cock. his other hand kept you steady on jungkook so your mouth kept working on him.

“come on yoongi, join us.”

jimin groaned in agreement, his hips never slowing as he looked at yoongi with a flushed smile, knowing exactly what he wants. they've known each other well enough to understand what the other wants without words and right now yoongi holding back means he wants something different, the way his eyes were fixated on your gaping pussy told him exactly that.

“she's so fucking tight even now… but we can make her take us both. get over here and stretch our girl.”

yoongi finally pushed off the bed, his cock bobbing heavily as he approached, making the men chuckle between groans while you struggled to keep up with their words or even understand what they're saying. he added more lube over his length, adding even more to where jimin was already connected to you. the head of his cock pressed against your already stuffed entrance, teasing over the stretched rim where jimin was inside.

“go for it.” jimin smirks at him and yoongi hums.

“you want this baby? want both our cocks splitting this pussy wide open?” yoongi murmurs, his free hand stroking your bulging tummy gently, feeling the outline of jimin inside you. all you could respond with was a muffled sob around jungkook's cock as tears and snot left you, your mind melting.

“that's a yes.” jungkook replies to yoongi with a grin, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

your vision blurs when yoongi finally pushed in alongside jimin causing such a burning stretch like you were going to tear open, forcing two massive cocks all the way in together. inch by inch, yoongi's length slid home, the lube easing the way but not diminishing the intense fullness as your tummy visibly bulges outward even more prominently at the dual intrusion.

“hnnngh... mm...” you sputtered with wide eyes around jungkook's cock.

the men groaned, their hands roaming your body, all focused on watching the way you took three cocks, two cocks inside your pussy and namjoon still pounding your ass. your belly bulged with each thrust until you could feel every bit of the detail and veins of their cock. you've never felt so full and complete in your life. the masochist in you barely registered the pain and only focused on the way you were being claimed so thoroughly. yoongi and jimin found a rhythm together, their cocks rubbing against each other, it sent white hot sparks exploring through their nerves. your pussy was overfilled and cum frothing at your entrance with every plunge, dripping down to where namjoon was hammering your ass in perfect counterpoint. jungkook pulls out from your mouth to let you breathe understanding your need for it.

“ah-ah-ah-ah—fuck!”

they treated you like you were a breeding toy, namjoon's hand pressing down on your lower back to arch you further, deepening the triple penetration.

“we're gonna ruin this cunt for anyone else. gonna pump you so full of cum you'll be leaking for days.” jungkook snarls, spitting inside your mouth as you wail, his hand stroking your tear streaked face as he jerks off right on your cheek.

“our cumdump..”

yoongi groans, giving you a few more pounds. you were spiraling higher and higher, murmuring and screaming nonsense, your brain's functions lost, while they were hitting spots inside you you didn't even know existed, rearranging and jostling your insides. just then namjoon leaned down to pinch your clit hard between his thumbs. you fully lost your mind.

“AHHHHHHHH!”

you let out such a loud scream that you were sure others outside the penthouse could hear despite it being soundproof as you gagged repeatedly on jungkook's cock, your breasts beingsqueezed hard by taehyung. you orgasmed hard, pussy cleaning down like a vice, milking yoongi's and jimin's cocks as so much liquid squirted out of you, soaking everyone. your entire lower body was soaked and their thighs were mixing with saliva and precum, your throat constricting around jungkook's. your vision blackened and you fell forward, almost like you lost your senses. yoongi snarled through gritted teeth, his hips rocking faster.

thrust. thrust. thrust.

that was what all of them were doing, jungkook inside your mouth, hoseok and jin fucking your fists, taehyung using your breasts while namjoon fucked your ass and jimin and yoongi fucking your pussy, all their faces contorted, not being able to stop moaning, pushing you to hypersensitivity and every inch of your body felt like it was burning and on fire. they didn't stop continuing to fuck you until they all started cumming, one by one they came all over your body and face and inside all your holes.

all you could smell was sex, sweat, raw masculinity and cigarettes, it all mixed together into something extremely lewd. so much liquid sloshing in your belly, becoming inflated as namjoon, yoongi and jimin dumped it inside you. you all felt less human and more animal like, sex beasts where nothing was enough and the night still wasn't over.

the night went on like that and the hours felt like an endless haze of pleasure as the seven of them continued to use you like their personal fucktoy, rotating through every single one of your holes until no part of you was untouched. groans, moans, cries and the slap of skin against skin were all that could be heard.

creampies after creampies.

“who do you think made her cum the hardest huh? i bet it was me hitting her spot just right.” jungkook chuckled deeply, gripping your ass.

“nahh kook, it was me definitely.” yoongi interrupts.

“y/n baby, tell them, whose dick wrecked you the most?”

but you could barely form words, your mind foggy and from overstimulation so they gave you another round just to prove among themselves actually who was capable of making you cum the hardest as if they all didn't successfully do so several times already. they passed you around with ease, each man claiming a turn while others watched or strokes themselves and joined in to heighten the torment. they also competed about who could make you scream or cry the loudest as they shifted you into several different positions. you were shocked at your body for being so flexible. you didn't even remember your own name at this point as the rotation continued relentlessly.

hours went on with edging and making you cum, sometimes with mating press position or putting both your legs over their shoulders and sometimes they gave it to you in the spoon position so they could take their time with you passionately while they talked among themselves, always discussing who gets to have you next or in which position to put you in.

“y/n are you still with us or did we fuck you dumb already?”

you were far from responding to them, only letting out garbled noises, your body taking them all even now, you felt like you were in heaven and hell together from the pleasure and from the sensitivity. the gangbang went on until you felt like your pussy and ass overflowed with their cum that was constantly pushed back in by insistent fingers and cocks. the sheets were fully ruined, drenched in sweat, saliva and semen, your body was soaked from head to toe too as they made sure not a drop of their cum went to taste. even if they argued among themselves about who made you cum the hardest but at this point your body reacted to even the little brush of fingers because of how hyper used you felt as you babbled incoherently still pushing back against several cocks.

you were also shocked at how much raw energy they had that even after so many orgasms and such exerted force they could still go on, their cocks seeming to get hard within minutes of release but soon you felt them slowly growing exhausted as well after hours of claiming you.

you saw the first hints of morning light through the curtains from half closed eyes, you all didn't even realize that the night had turned to nearly dawn. you felt half conscious yourself, not a single bit of energy left in you, not being able to lift your head as your lower body still convulsed. the bed was a wreck, the sheets half twisted and all wet, some pillows on the floor, pools of cum drying on your body and theirs as well. one pillow was half torn, you'd probably grabbed too hard between your hands but didn't even remember properly. the headboard also had nail scratches and marks from grips.

you lay in the center of it all, voice almost gone from screams and moans, feeling blissfully blank and dreamy, where thoughts dissolved before they could form. your body ached deliciously, bite marks everywhere, handprints reddened your hips and ass, your pussy and ass swollen, still trickling bits of their white seed. they all panted around you, all their cocks softened now, no longer having the power to get hard again as you felt a few sets of arms wrap around your waist, holding you close without crushing you with their weight.

“fuck… baby, are you okay?” jungkook murmurs.

he pressed soothing kisses against your shoulder and you just whimpered, burying your face in taehyung's chest, your body shifting a littl and that made you let out a quiet little cry because it put pressure on your lower body.

“shhh, don't move too much.” taehyung whispers as he places a hand behind your head.

“we've got you.”

“water first, someone get the bottle.”

namjoon says urgently, knowing how thirsty you'd be after everything. jin stands up on shaky legs and goes to grab another bottle of cold water for you, while hands of theirs that gripped and spanked now rubbed slowly over your sore muscles, slightly massaging.

“you did so well baby.”

taehyung nuzzled into your side while yoongi pressed slow apologetic kisses on your stomach and you mewled, melting in the sheets. they made you drink water, making sure you finished the entire bottle to quench your thirst and also for whatever energy you lost. they constantly asked questions about if you were okay, if any specific body part of yours hurt and that they were sorry even if they had no reason to. they constantly made sure that you were comfortable and safe but you had no energy to reply to them to tell them that you enjoyed everything and to not apologize. so you expressed your gratitude through actions, leaning onto them and clutching them as they all enveloped you into cuddles, solid bodies radiating safety until you were cocooned.

your head pillowed on jin's chest, legs tangled with jungkook's and hoseok's, taehyung's arm draped over your waist, jimin's fingers laced with yours, namjoon's hand stroking your hair while yoongi traced up and down your back. they didn’t talk for several minutes, letting you recover, knowing you weren't in the state to reply to them until they felt your breathing regulate more.

“are there any cramps? do you feel dizzy?” jin asks softly and you shake your head weakly.

“good… safe.” you managed to croak out and they all smiled, letting out relieved noises and kissing against each mark and bruise they left on you.

“you worked so hard angel… we're so proud of you.”

they also had scratches and bite marks on their bodies from where you'd grabbed onto them. some nail marks also caused blood to bead a little but all their focus was on you, not caring about themselves. after the blissful recovery they decided it was time for a shower. you also felt a little uncomfortable and sticky everywhere from so many fluids so they carried you to the large bathroom.

during that, the staff had already been notified to clean the sheets and bring fresh food in without a single question or raised eyebrow from them. they knew better than to do that and minded their own place but even shock was evident in their faces because it was the very first time the men had ever brought a woman into their place.

in the shower they treated you like you were something precious and fragile, giving you utmost care as if you were a delicate flower meant to be handled like that. they washed you together, massaging your scalp with shampoo while your head rested on the edge of the tub, warm water making you moan in relief as they cleaned all the fluids from your hair and body.

“lift your leg for me princess.” yoongi instructed affectionately.

then he used a soft towel to clean between your folds and between your thighs slowly as you winced from the pain and soreness but he did that oh so gently, a huge contrast to how he fucked you moments ago as they helped support your legs, massaging between your toes too and it makes you giggle with a tired smile. they didn’t touch any of your sensitive spots or your nipples, noting how swollen and reddened they were, being extremely mindful and checking in with you.

“there we go… nice and clean.” namjoon held you against his chest.

they talked among themselves about what to feed you next or which ointments to apply to your marks in hushed voices so as to not jerk you while they wiped down your body with a dry towel. they wrapped a towel around you and carried you back to the freshly made bed with new sheets and laid you down carefully, making you sigh at the feeling of freshness and no more wetness even though your body ached sweetly. they insisted on feeding you a light snack too despite that you felt so sleepy, not wanting you to fall asleep on an empty stomach and in pain.

“just a few bites… such a good girl yeah?” namjoon coaxed, they were all patient as you managed a few bites. your throat a little sore too from taking so many cocks but the cold fruits helped. after that, they made you have a pain relief tablet before placing extra fluffed pillows behind you.

“we're right here.”

jimin whispered.

“sleep now, we’ve got you.”

you never felt so cared for. it made your heart flutter, your lips curving in a dreamy smile as you buried your nose in the pillow, a kitten like purr leaving you from deep within your chest and it made all the men around you melt into puddles. their bodies forming a protective circle, hands rubbing and massaging your thighs, almost rocking you to a peaceful sleep, their devotion something you'll carry with yourself even in your dreams. they watched you all quietly, you slept so deeply on your stomach, one of your hand squished beneath your cheek making your lips pucker.

“she's out cold... poor thing took everything we gave.”

yoongi said with a rare smile as jungkook pushed a strand of wet hair away from your face. it seemed as if all their heart was being carried in your little palm all alone, like they found what they'd been missing all along.

“she fits doesn’t she?” hoseok murmurs, lost in the haze of watching you too as the others nodded softly.

“she does…”

they knew that they wouldn’t let you go and that they'd keep you, it wasn’t just a contract of one night, it was more that, they didn’t wanna spoil you just for one night but forever.

nothing in the world mattered except you right here in their arms, owned by them, marked by them in every way humanly possible and there was no going back, they knew that even their souls knew that.

“we'll talk to her when she wakes up but she's not leaving, we’ll show her how serious we are.”

you meanwhile, slept unaware that your life had changed for the better and that new beginnings were yet to come with much adoration and sex, yet most importantly, eight hearts connected and meant to beat together.

➥ taglist : @kskskskskskskskss @gukdemonic @jeonette @chelseaad @koosette @mn1jungkook @mrskimjoon @dilflover008 @singularity4joon @yevataeia @kookstempo @ggukiebar @yoongix7 @gld3en @cupidsbling @bethanyyuy @jeonlarity @pinklemonsstuff @furioustrashlover @hainwhatever @wtfanu @elmarimochi9513 @httpjk7 @wintrbears @kawaikisses @polaroidrebel @littleblue-pickle @perfectlyoongi @imjustcrabby @mnimxrva @lohikook @crimsonbangtan @phehehep @goldenjjksworld @sunkissedcheekss @jmscaffeine @mintedagustd @multimxa @tina-20

a/n: I was in the process of writing chapter 3 for my jungkook series "purple tears I cry," and a certain sushi scene made me think of this that I just had to write a whole separate oneshot smut for it. this is genuinely nasty, please read at your own risk! hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think of it... don't forget to reblog <3

The Miami humidity clings to your skin the moment you step out of the Uber, but the restaurant's AC hits like a wall of relief, crisp and expensive-smelling, all yuzu and polished wood and money. Nobu. Of course he chose Nobu. You catch your reflection in the dark glass doors, your teal dress catching the neon glow from the street, the silk clinging to the curve of your hips in a way that makes Jungkook's hand tighten at your waist, fingers digging in just enough to remind you who you belong to tonight.

Your hair is up, mostly, a messy twist that took you forty minutes to make look effortless, two strands curling against your collarbones like they have a mind of their own. Your skin glows, sun-kissed and dewy, and you feel his eyes on you, always on you, as the hostess leads you to the corner booth. You make sure to sway your hips a little more than necessary because you know he's watching, know his gaze is fixed on the way the silk shifts over your ass.

He's wearing a white button-up - one that should look innocent, corporate, boring, except he's left the first five buttons undone, and the fabric gapes open to reveal the hard plane of his chest, the ink that spills over his shoulder and disappears beneath the cotton. His lip ring catches the low light when he smiles at you, silver glinting against his mouth, and something low in your stomach tightens because you know exactly how that metal feels against your throat, your breastbone, the inside of your thigh. You know how it feels when he drags it down your stomach, when he looks up at you with those dark eyes while he tongues you open.

You slide into the booth and immediately pull out your phone, propping it against your water glass, angling it just so. The red recording light blinks to life. Jungkook raises an eyebrow but says nothing, just settles across from you, his knee brushing yours under the table, his foot hooking around your ankle to pull you closer.

"Documenting the experience?" he asks, his voice low, rough, the kind of voice that makes you think of hotel sheets and sweat and the way he sounds when he's inside you.

"Memories," you say, but your eyes drop to his mouth, to the silver ring there, and you know he sees it, knows exactly what you're thinking. You adjust the phone slightly, making sure the frame catches both of you, the candlelight, the way his shirt falls open when he leans back.

The server arrives with menus you don't need because you already know what you want, what you always want here. But Jungkook takes his time, asks questions about the omakase, the wine pairings, his voice smooth and deliberate while his shoe slides up your calf beneath the table, pushing the silk of your dress higher, higher, until it brushes the back of your knee and you have to bite your lip to keep from making a sound.

"Spicy tuna," you manage, your voice breathier than you intended, and Jungkook's eyes darken because he knows, he always knows what he's doing to you.

"Two orders," he says to the server, not looking away from you. "And sake. The good stuff."

The sake arrives in a ceramic flask, and he pours for you, his fingers brushing yours as you take the cup, and you make sure to let your tongue linger on the rim when you drink, watching his jaw tighten, watching his gaze drop to your mouth. You set the cup down and lean forward, the neckline of your dress gaping just enough, and you see his eyes flick down, see his throat work as he swallows.

"You're playing with me," he murmurs, and his shoe presses harder against your leg, insistent.

"Maybe you're playing with me," you counter, and you kick off your heel under the table, let your bare foot find his thigh, slide up, up, until you're pressing against the hard outline of him through his trousers, and he hisses, his hand gripping the edge of the table, knuckles white.

"Careful," he warns, but his hips shift, pressing into your touch, and you smile, sweet and dangerous.

"Or what?"

The spicy tuna arrives like art, ruby-red and glistening, arranged on black slate with edible flowers you won't eat. You take the first piece with your fingers because fuck the chopsticks, and Jungkook's gaze tracks the movement, watches your lips close around the fish, the rice, the wasabi that burns just enough. You moan, deliberately, because you know what it does to him, and his jaw tightens, that muscle jumping beneath the skin, his hand disappearing beneath the table where you know he's adjusting himself.

"Good?" he asks, voice wrecked already, ruined, and you haven't even started.

"So good," you say, and you take another, and another, each time making sure to lick your fingers after, slow, obscene, your eyes locked on his. You can see the flush spreading up his neck, can see the way his chest rises and falls faster than it should, the open shirt showing too much skin, the tattoo peeking out, and you want to trace it with your tongue, want to mess up his hair and ruin his composure right here in this restaurant full of people who think they're being subtle about watching you.

You lean back, your foot still working him beneath the table, and you reach for your phone, checking the angle, making sure it's still recording. You tilt it slightly to catch more of him, the candlelight catching the silver in his lip, the way his eyes look black with want.

"Say hi to the camera," you tease, and he does, his voice rough, his smile sharp and predatory.

"Hi, camera," he says, and then, lower, just for you, "Can't wait to see what you do with this footage later."

You take another piece of tuna and hold it out across the table, an offering, a test. He leans forward, never breaking eye contact, and takes it from your fingers with his teeth, his tongue brushing your fingertips, hot and wet, and you feel it everywhere, feel it between your legs where you're already aching, already soaked through your underwear.

"Jungkook," you breathe, and he catches your wrist, holds it, sucks your fingers into his mouth one by one, cleaning them, his tongue swirling around each digit while the restaurant noise fades to nothing and there's only him, only this, only the wet heat of his mouth and the promise of what comes after.

"You're killing me," he murmurs against your palm, his lips brushing the sensitive skin at your wrist, and you shiver, your foot still pressed against his hard length, feeling him throb even through the fabric.

"Good," you whisper. "Suffer."

You eat slowly, deliberately, drawing out every bite, every sip of sake, every moment of his foot tracing patterns on your calf, his knee pressing between your thighs under the table. You talk about nothing, everything, your voice light while your body screams for him, while you watch the sweat bead at his hairline, watch him shift in his seat, uncomfortable and hard and yours.

By the time you're full, stuffed, the silk of your dress feels tighter across your ribs, and you lean back with a groan, hand on your stomach, your foot finally retreating from his lap. He exhales, shaky, and adjusts himself again, not subtle, not caring who sees, and you love him like this, undone, desperate, ready to drag you out of here and fuck you in the Uber if he has to.

"I can't," you say, patting your stomach. "I'm gonna burst."

Jungkook smirks, that dangerous smirk that means trouble, that means you're in for it the second you get back to the hotel. "Shame. I like watching you eat."

"Pervert."

"Your pervert."

You flag down the server, ask for a takeout box, and Jungkook pays without looking at the check, just slides his card across the table like the amount doesn't matter, because it doesn't, not to him, not to either of you tonight. You pocket your phone, the recording still running, capturing everything, capturing the way he stands and offers you his hand, the way he pulls you against him in the elevator, his mouth at your ear.

"You're going to pay for that," he whispers, and you shiver, feel his hand slide down to grip your ass, squeezing hard.

"Promise?"

The hotel suite is all white and marble and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean, dark now, just a black expanse beyond the glass. You kick off your heels, your feet sinking into carpet that probably costs more than your first car, and you collapse onto the sectional, pulling out your phone, scrolling through the footage while he pours himself a drink at the mini bar, his back to you, the white shirt pulling across his shoulders, the tattoo peeking out from beneath the sleeve.

TikTok. Endless, brainless TikTok to wind down.

A couple on a beach. A dance trend you don't care about. A recipe for something with feta cheese.

Then: a girl, pretty, blonde, sitting cross-legged on a bed in what looks like a generic hotel room. Her boyfriend beside her, shirtless, flexing his bicep. The girl grins at the camera, then at him, and unwraps a sushi roll, places it on the hard curve of his muscle, and leans down to take it with her teeth. The comments are screaming. The views are in the millions.

You stare at the screen.

You stare at the takeout box on the coffee table.

You stare at Jungkook, who's pouring himself a drink, his back to you, the white shirt still open, showing too much skin, the lip ring catching the light when he turns his head.

Enlightenment.

You set your phone down. Stand. Cross the room on bare feet, silent, predatory. He hears you, turns, glass halfway to his lips, and you pluck it from his hand, set it on the marble counter with a clink that sounds like a promise.

"Take your shirt off," you say.

His eyebrow arches, that lip ring catching the light again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." You reach for the takeout box, open it, the spicy tuna still perfect, still glistening, and you can feel him watching you, confused and curious and already getting hard because he always gets hard when you use that tone, that minx tone, the one that means you're about to ruin him.

He sets the glass down. Undoes the remaining buttons slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving yours. The shirt falls open, then off, and he's bare in front of you, all golden skin and ink and muscle that makes your mouth water. You step closer, close enough to feel the heat coming off him, and you press your palm to his chest, right over his heart, feeling it thud against your hand.

You set your phone down on the marble counter, angling it just so, the red recording light blinking like a heartbeat in the dim room. You want this captured, want the lens to swallow every moment of what comes next, want to watch it later and feel the heat crawl up your neck all over again. Jungkook's eyes flick to the device, understanding dawning dark and dangerous in his gaze, and when he looks back at you, something has shifted. The playful tension from the restaurant has evaporated, replaced by something heavier, hungrier, something that makes your breath catch in your throat.

You lean in, your hair falling forward, those two dark strands brushing his shoulder like silk curtains framing the moment. You don't go for the sushi yet. You press your mouth to his throat first, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, hard enough to make him groan deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against your lips. His hand comes up to tangle in your updo, disheveling it further, fingers tightening in your hair until your scalp sings with the sting of it. You lick the salt from his skin, taste the cologne at his pulse point, the musk of him underneath, and you feel him shudder beneath your mouth, feel the sushi roll shift against your cheek as he breathes ragged and wrecked.

"You're insane," he murmurs, but his voice is already ruined, gravel and velvet, and you smile against his neck, teeth grazing his tendon, feeling his cock twitch against your hip through his trousers.

"Wait until you see what comes after the appetizer," you whisper, and finally, finally, you turn your head and take the sushi between your teeth, your eyes locked on his, watching him watch you, watching the way your lips close around the rice and fish, the way your throat works as you swallow, and the sound he makes is animal, guttural, something torn from deep in his chest that makes your thighs clench together with nothing but air between them.

He moves before you can even taste the wasabi. His hands find your waist and he's lifting you, setting you down on the cool marble counter like you weigh nothing, like you're something to be arranged, positioned, consumed. The stone bites against your bare thighs where your dress rides up, and you gasp, but the sound is swallowed by his mouth crashing against yours, the metal of his lip ring pressing hard into your flesh, cold and burning all at once. He tastes like sake and want and the promise of destruction, and you open for him, let him take, let him plunder your mouth with a desperation that makes your head spin.

"Look at you," he breathes against your jaw, his teeth dragging down your throat, sharp and claiming. "Look at you, playing with fire, recording this, thinking you're in control."

His hands find the thin straps of your teal dress, silk whispering against your skin like a secret. He doesn't rush. He takes his time, sliding the straps down your shoulders with agonizing slowness, his eyes tracking every inch of exposed flesh, his pupils blown wide and black with desire. The silk catches on your nipples for a heartbeat, clinging, teasing, and then it falls, smooth as water, pooling at your waist, and you're bare for him, your breasts heavy and full, nipples tight and aching in the cool hotel air, no barrier between his gaze and your skin.

He stares. The silence stretches, thick and electric, and you feel beautiful, powerful, laid out like a feast on this marble altar. His throat works, his hand coming up to cup you, weigh you, his thumb dragging across your nipple so slowly you whimper, arching into his touch.

"No bra," he observes, his voice rough, almost reverent. "You were planning this. Walking around that restaurant with nothing under this dress, teasing me, letting me wonder."

"I wanted you to wonder," you admit, your voice breathless, broken. "I wanted you to think about it all night."

"Evil," he murmurs, and then he's bending his head, his mouth closing over your nipple, hot and wet and devastating, and you cry out, your hands flying to his hair, gripping tight as he sucks, as his tongue circles and flicks and drives you mindless. He moves to the other breast, giving it the same worship, the same relentless attention, and you're squirming on the counter, your hips rolling, seeking friction, seeking him.

He pulls back with a wet sound that makes you blush even as you moan for more. His eyes are dark, predatory, the playful boyfriend from the restaurant gone, replaced by something that looks at you like you're prey, like you're his to ruin.

"Bed," he commands, his voice leaving no room for negotiation, no room for anything but obedience. "Now. On your back."

You slide off the counter, your legs shaky, the silk of your dress catching on your hips as you move. You cross to the bed, each step feeling like you're walking through honey, through heat, your body thrumming with anticipation. You climb onto the white sheets, the fabric cool against your heated skin, and you lie back, your breasts falling to the sides, heavy and aching, your hair spilling across the pillows in waves.

He follows you, stalking across the room with a predator's grace, all bare chest and ink and the hard outline of his cock straining against his trousers. He stops at the foot of the bed, his eyes raking over you, devouring you, and then he reaches for your phone still sitting on the counter, brings it with him, sets it on the nightstand angled perfectly to capture everything, the red light blinking like a third heartbeat in the room.

"Keep it recording," he says, not a request but a decree. "I want you to watch this later. I want you to see what you look like when you're being fucked properly."

He undoes his belt with slow, deliberate movements, the leather hissing as he pulls it free, the metal clinking as he drops it to the floor. His trousers follow, and his underwear, and then he's naked, glorious, his cock thick and heavy and curving up toward his stomach, the tip already wet with arousal, the veins along the shaft prominent and pulsing. You can't help but stare, can't help but lick your lips at the sight of him, at the thought of taking him inside you, anywhere, everywhere.

He climbs onto the bed, crawling up your body like a storm rolling in, all dark intent and coiled power. He doesn't touch you where you want him most, not yet. Instead, he straddles your chest, his knees settling on either side of your ribs, his hands bracing on the headboard above you, caging you in, trapping you beneath him. You can smell him, musk and sweat and something uniquely Jungkook, can feel the heat radiating off his skin, the weight of him hovering above you.

"Look at you," he breathes, his hand coming down to grip himself, to stroke once, twice, the sight obscene and mesmerizing. "Look at these perfect tits. Do you know how many times I've thought about this? About fucking them? About painting you with my cum?"

You whimper, arching up, and he takes that as invitation, as permission. He leans forward, guiding himself down, the hot, heavy weight of his cock settling into the valley between your breasts, skin against skin, velvet over steel. He groans, long and low, his head falling back, the column of his throat working as he begins to move.

He starts slow, rocking his hips, sliding himself through your cleavage, the friction making him hiss, making his abs tighten and flex with each thrust. You press your breasts together, creating a tighter channel for him, and he groans your name like a prayer, like a curse, his pace quickening, his hips snapping faster, harder. The head of his cock peeks out from between your breasts with each forward thrust, glistening and flushed, and you crane your neck, wanting to taste, wanting to lick the salt from his skin, but he pulls back just enough to deny you, a wicked smile playing at his lips.

"Greedy," he pants, his thrusts becoming erratic, losing their rhythm, his control fraying at the edges. "So fucking greedy for it. You want this? Want me to cum all over you? Mark you?"

"Yes," you gasp, your own arousal spiraling tight and hot between your legs, the sight of him using you, losing himself in your body, driving you wild. "Yes, please, Jungkook, please-"

He breaks. His hips stutter, his hand gripping the headboard so tight his knuckles go white, and he comes with a shout that sounds torn from his soul, thick ropes of cum spilling across your chest, your throat, marking you, claiming you in the most primal way. He keeps thrusting through it, milking himself, his cock twitching against your skin, until he's spent, until he's trembling above you, his chest heaving, sweat gleaming on his inked shoulders.

The silence that follows is broken only by your ragged breathing, by the wet sounds of him still sliding against your cum-slicked skin. He looks down at you, at the mess he's made of you, and his eyes flash with something dark and satisfied, something possessive.

"Beautiful," he whispers, his hand coming down to smear the evidence of his pleasure across your breasts, your nipples, making you glisten with him. "So fucking beautiful."

He reaches over to the takeout box still sitting on the counter, forgotten until now, and retrieves another piece of spicy tuna, the fish still cool, still perfect. He brings it to your chest, and you watch, breathless, as he places it carefully on top of your nipple, the sushi resting there like an offering, like sacrilege.

He bends his head, his eyes locked on yours, and takes the sushi between his teeth, his tongue dragging across your nipple as he does, hot and wet and filthy, sucking the fish and your flesh together, the combination of sensations making you cry out, making your back arch off the bed. He chews slowly, savoring, his hand coming up to palm your other breast, his thumb circling your nipple, spreading his own release across your skin in obscene patterns.

When he swallows, he surges up, his mouth crashing against yours with a ferocity that steals your breath, his tongue thrusting deep, sharing the taste of tuna and salt and him, his teeth catching your lower lip, the metal of his piercing dragging against your sensitive flesh. He kisses you like he's starving, like he wants to consume you whole, like the camera isn't even there, like the world has narrowed down to just this, just you, just the wet heat of his mouth and the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

"Mine," he growls against your lips, the word vibrating through your chest, through your bones. "Say it."

"Yours," you gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders, your nails digging crescents into his inked skin. "I'm yours, Jungkook, I'm-"

He cuts you off with another kiss, deeper, harder, his hand sliding down your body, beneath the silk of your dress still pooled at your waist, finding where you're wet and aching and ready, and you know this is only the beginning, know that the night is long and the camera is still rolling and he's nowhere near finished with you.

He pulls back from the kiss with a wet, filthy sound that echoes in the quiet room, his eyes dark and glittering with intent. His hand is still between your legs, his fingers spreading your wetness in slow, teasing circles, and you arch into his touch, desperate, needy, your hips rolling to chase more friction.

"Give me the phone," he commands, his voice rough as gravel, as velvet, as something dangerous wrapped in silk.

You reach for it with trembling fingers, the device still warm from where it sat recording, and you hand it to him, your breath catching as he takes it, as he adjusts the angle, as he points the lens down at you like he's directing a film where you're the only star.

"Look at you," he murmurs, the camera capturing everything, capturing the flush spreading down your chest, the way your breasts rise and fall with each ragged breath, the sheen of sweat and his release still glistening on your skin. "Look at this fucking body. Do you see what I see? Do you see how perfect you are?"

He shifts back on his knees, the mattress dipping beneath his weight, and he hooks his fingers in the silk of your dress still pooled at your waist. He pulls slowly, agonizingly slowly, the fabric sliding down your hips, your thighs, leaving you completely bare, completely exposed to the lens, to his gaze, to the hungry darkness in his eyes.

"Spread your legs," he orders, and you do, your knees falling open, your thighs trembling as the cool hotel air hits your heated core. You feel exposed, vulnerable, the camera recording every inch of you, the way your pussy glistens with arousal, swollen and pink and aching for him. He zooms in, the lens close enough to capture the details, the way you pulse with need, the way your thighs are already shaking with anticipation.

"Beautiful," he breathes, the word almost reverent, almost profane. "Look at this pretty pussy. So wet for me. So fucking ready."

He sets the phone down on the mattress, angled up at you both, the red light blinking steady and watchful. But then he's reaching for your hand, pulling you up, placing the device in your trembling grip.

"Hold it," he instructs, his voice dropping lower, filthier, his eyes locked on yours with a command that brooks no argument. "Record me. Don't you dare stop filming, understand? I want you to capture every second of this. I want you to watch later and see exactly what you do to me."

You nod, your throat too tight to speak, and you angle the camera down, your fingers shaking as you focus the lens on him, on where he's settling between your thighs like he belongs there, like he's coming home.

He looks up at you through his lashes, that silver lip ring catching the light, and he knows, he always knows what that piece of metal does to you. He runs his tongue over it slowly, deliberately, letting you watch the way it moves, the way it glints, and your breath hitches because you can feel it already, can imagine the cool metal against your overheated flesh.

"You like this?" he asks, his voice a purr, a promise, a threat. "You like watching me? Like knowing I'm about to wreck you with this mouth?"

"Yes," you whimper, the camera trembling in your grip as you hold it steady, as you capture every moment.

He starts at your knee, his mouth hovering, his breath hot against your skin. He blows, a gentle stream of air that makes you gasp, makes your leg jerk in his grip. He holds you steady, his fingers digging into your thigh, and he drags his lips up, up, not touching, just breathing, just letting you feel the ghost of him, the promise of him.

He reaches the crease where your thigh meets your hip and he pauses, his eyes flicking up to the camera, to you, holding your gaze as he blows again, right there, right where you're throbbing, where you're aching, where you're dripping for him.

"Please," you beg, your voice breaking, the camera shaking in your hand. "Please, Jungkook, please touch me-"

"Shh," he soothes, his breath washing over your clit, hot and cool and devastating. "I've got you. Be patient, pretty girl. Be good."

He blows again, directly on your clit this time, the sensation shocking, electric, making you cry out, your hips bucking off the mattress. He holds you down with one hand on your stomach, pinning you, controlling you, and he leans closer, closer, until you can feel his breath fluttering against your most sensitive flesh, until you're trembling, until you're sobbing with need.

"Look at the camera," he commands, his voice vibrating against your thigh. "Don't look at me. Look at the lens. Show them how pretty you are when you're desperate."

You force your eyes up, staring into the small black circle of the phone's camera, your vision blurred with tears, your mouth open, your chest heaving. You look wrecked, you know you do, you can see your reflection in the dark screen, can see the way your hair is tangled and wild, the way your lips are swollen and red, the way your body is flushed pink with arousal.

"Good girl," he praises, and then he finally, finally, touches you.

His tongue drags through your folds in one long, slow stroke, hot and wet and perfect, and you scream, the sound tearing from your throat, your hips bucking against his mouth. He groans against you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine, and he does it again, and again, lapping at you like he's starving, like he wants to taste every drop of your arousal, like he could spend hours here, drowning in you.

He focuses on your clit, circling it with the flat of his tongue, then the tip, then flicking it, relentless, merciless, driving you higher and higher until you're panting, until you're chanting his name like a prayer, like a curse, until your thighs are trembling on either side of his head.

"So fucking loud," he murmurs against you, the words muffled, filthy. "Let them hear you. Let the whole fucking hotel hear what I'm doing to you."

He pulls back just enough to speak, his chin glistening with your arousal, his eyes dark and wild. "Keep recording. Don't you dare stop."

You nod frantically, your hand cramping around the phone, but you hold it steady, you keep the lens focused on him, on where he's watching you with predatory intensity.

He slides one finger inside you, slow and deliberate, curling it to find that spot that makes your vision white out, and you moan, long and loud, unable to help yourself. He adds a second finger, stretching you, filling you, and he starts to pump them in and out, his wrist twisting, his knuckles dragging against your walls in a way that makes you see stars.

"More," you gasp, your head falling back, but he clicks his tongue, sharp and reprimanding.

"Eyes on the camera," he reminds you, his voice stern, commanding. "Look at me through the lens. Show me that pretty face."

You force your head up, your neck trembling with the effort, and you stare into the camera, your eyes wide and glassy, your mouth open as you pant. He adds a third finger, the stretch burning so perfectly you sob, your hips rolling to meet his thrusts, and he starts rubbing your clit with his other hand, circling it in tight, relentless patterns while his fingers work inside you, while he crooks them to hit that spot, that perfect spot, over and over and over.

"You're taking three fingers so well," he praises, his voice dripping with filth, with pride. "Look at you, stuffed full, dripping down my hand. You love this, don't you? Love being watched, love being used, love being my little porn star."

"Yes," you cry out, the camera shaking as your orgasm builds, coiling tight and hot in your belly. "Yes, yes, Jungkook, please, I'm gonna-"

"Not yet," he cuts you off, his fingers stilling, his hand pulling away from your clit, leaving you hovering on the edge, desperate and whining. "Not until I say. Keep holding that camera. Keep recording. I want to see your face when you cum all over my tongue."

He dives back in, his mouth replacing his fingers, his tongue thrusting inside you, fucking you with wet heat while his thumb presses hard against your clit, rubbing in furious circles. The dual sensation is too much, overwhelming, devastating, and you're screaming now, loud and unrestrained, your voice raw as you chant his name, as you beg, as you plead for release.

"Jungkook, please, please, I can't, I need to-"

"Cum," he commands, the word vibrating against your core. "Cum for me now. Let me taste it. Let me drink you down."

He sucks your clit into his mouth, the metal of his lip ring pressing hard against the sensitive bud, and you break. Your orgasm crashes through you like a wave, like a storm, like something violent and beautiful and earth-shattering. Your back arches off the bed, your thighs clamping around his head, your hand spasming around the phone as you cry out, loud and broken and his, completely his.

He doesn't stop. He keeps licking, keeps sucking, drawing out your pleasure until you're shaking, until you're sobbing, until you're pushing at his shoulders because it's too much, too sensitive, too everything.

He finally pulls back with a wet, obscene sound, his chin dripping with your release, his eyes dark and satisfied and wild. He looks at the camera, looks directly into the lens where you're still recording, still capturing every filthy moment, and he licks his lips, slow and deliberate, savoring your taste.

"Delicious," he murmurs, the word dripping with innuendo, with promise. "My favorite meal."

He crawls up your body, his skin hot against yours, his mouth finding yours in a kiss that tastes like you, like him, like everything dirty and perfect and yours. The camera is still recording, still capturing, still blinking its red light in the dark room, and you know, you know this is a night you'll be watching back for years, a night that will never stop making you blush, making you ache, making you want.

"Good girl," he whispers against your lips, his hand tangling in your hair, his body heavy and warm above you. "You did so well. You held it the whole time."

He takes the phone from your trembling grip, checks the recording, a smug, satisfied smile playing at his lips. "Perfect angle. Look at you, pretty thing. Look how beautiful you are when you cum."

He shows you the screen, and you watch yourself, watch your face contort with pleasure, watch your body arch and shake, and you feel the heat crawl up your neck even as you feel yourself getting wet again, already wanting more, already wanting everything he has to give.

He pulls you up, his hands rough at your waist, flipping you until you're straddling him, your knees bracketing his hips, your hands braced on his inked chest. The sweat-slick slide of your skin against his is electric, devastating, and you can feel him hard and thick beneath you, pressing against your thigh, leaving wet trails of pre-cum against your skin.

"Come here," he growls, his hand fisting in your hair, pulling you down until your mouths crash together, teeth clicking, tongues tangling in a messy, desperate dance. He tastes like you, like sake, like the lingering spice of tuna and salt and sex, and you moan into his mouth, your hips rolling instinctively, grinding your soaked core against his rigid length.

"Fuck," he breathes against your lips, his hips bucking up to meet you, the friction making you both gasp. "Fuck, baby, you feel so good."

You reach for the takeout box still within arm's reach, your fingers trembling as you unwrap another piece of spicy tuna, the fish cool and glistening in the dim light. You break the kiss, sitting back on your heels, and his eyes track your movements, dark and questioning, until you lean forward and place the sushi directly on his nipple, the pink flesh peeking through the dark ink of his chest tattoo.

"Christ," he hisses, his head falling back against the pillows, his throat working as you bend down, your hair creating a curtain around you both.

You take the sushi between your teeth first, biting down, the flavor bursting across your tongue, but then you keep going, your mouth closing over his nipple, sucking hard, laving it with your tongue, the combination of cool fish and hot skin making him arch off the bed, his hand flying to your head, gripping tight.

"Oh fuck," he groans, long and low, the sound vibrating through his chest into your mouth. "Oh fuck, baby, fuck-"

You suck harder, your teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, and he cries out, his hips jerking up, his cock sliding through your folds, bumping against your clit with each thrust of his hips. You release his nipple with a wet pop, looking up at him through your lashes, your lips swollen and glistening.

"You like that?" you purr, your voice dripping with filth, with power. "Like me eating off you? Like being my plate, my meal?"

"Yes," he pants, his eyes blown wide, his chest heaving. "Fuck yes, anything, everything-"

You start grinding in earnest, rolling your hips, sliding your soaked pussy along the length of his cock without letting him inside, teasing, torturing, your clit dragging against his rigid shaft with every movement. The friction is delicious, maddening, and you're both moaning, the sounds filling the room, raw and unfiltered.

"Oh fuck, baby," he chants, his hands gripping your waist, your hips, guiding your movements, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "Oh fuck, just like that, just like that-"

You lean down, your breasts pressing against his chest, your mouth at his ear. "Feel how wet I am?" you whisper, your voice a dirty secret. "Feel how much I need you? I've been dripping for you all night, Jungkook. All fucking night."

"Shit," he groans, his hips stuttering, losing their rhythm. "Shit, you're gonna make me cum like this, make me-"

He reaches for the phone, his hand trembling as he angles it up at you, capturing the way you move above him, the way your body undulates like a wave, like something primal and ancient and devastatingly beautiful.

"Look at this," he murmurs, his voice wrecked, his eyes flicking between the screen and your face. "Look at you, grinding on me like a little slut, so desperate for it. You want this cock, baby? Want me to fill you up?"

"Yes," you whine, your movements becoming erratic, desperate. "Please, please, I need it, need you inside-"

He drops the phone to the mattress, the camera still recording, still capturing everything, and he grips your hips hard, lifting you, positioning you above him. You reach between your bodies, your hand wrapping around his thick length, guiding him to your entrance, and you sink down slowly, inch by inch, your head falling back, your mouth open in a silent scream as he stretches you, fills you, completes you.

"Fuck," you gasp, your hands braced on his chest, your nails digging crescents into his skin. "Oh fuck, Jungkook, you're so big, so-"

"Move," he commands, his voice guttural, his hands guiding your hips. "Ride me, baby. Show me how good you are."

You start to move, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate circles, feeling every inch of him drag against your walls, hitting places that make your vision blur. He keeps one hand on your hip, guiding you, controlling the pace, while the other reaches for your breast, palming the heavy weight, his thumb dragging across your nipple.

"The sushi wasn't the rawest thing tonight," he breathes, his eyes locked on yours, dark and possessive. "This is. You and me, like this, nothing between us. Just raw, filthy fucking."

You moan, your movements speeding up, your hips snapping down harder, taking him deeper, until he's hitting your cervix with each thrust, the stretch bordering on pain but feeling so perfect you can't stop. He grabs the phone again, angling it up at you, capturing your face contorted with pleasure, your breasts bouncing with each movement, the place where your bodies join, wet and obscene.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his voice reverent and filthy all at once. "Look at you, taking me so well. My perfect girl."

He flips you suddenly, his strength shocking, his movements fluid and predatory. You're on your back before you can process the shift, him settling between your thighs, his cock still buried deep inside you, his hands bracing on either side of your head.

"Recording," he commands, pressing the phone into your trembling hand. "Don't stop. I want you to see this. Want you to watch later and see exactly how I fuck you."

You hold it up, the lens focused on where your bodies meet, and he pulls out slowly, agonizingly slowly, until just the tip remains inside you, glistening with your combined arousal. He hovers there, teasing, and you whimper, your hips bucking up, seeking more.

"Quiet," he orders, his voice sharp. "Be quiet and listen. Listen to how wet you are for me."

He thrusts back in, hard and deep, and the sound is obscene, wet and filthy, your arousal squelching around him, the slap of skin against skin filling the room. You bite your lip to keep from screaming, your hand shaking as you hold the camera steady, capturing the way he pulls out and thrusts back in, over and over, the rhythm building, the sounds growing louder, wetter, more desperate.

He pulls out completely, his cock slapping against your stomach, wet and heavy, and he drags the head through your folds, bumping against your clit, circling it, teasing it with short, sharp jabs that make you cry out despite your best efforts to stay quiet.

"Please," you beg, your voice breaking. "Please, Jungkook, please fuck me, please-"

He lines himself up and thrusts back in, but this time he doesn't stop, doesn't slow, doesn't tease. He starts pounding into you, hard and fast and merciless, his hips snapping forward with a force that moves you up the bed, your head hitting the headboard with each thrust. He's fucking you like he hates you, like he loves you, like he wants to crawl inside your skin and never leave.

"Scream," he commands, his voice ragged, his hand wrapping around your throat, not squeezing, just holding, just reminding you who you belong to. "Let me hear you. Let the fucking city hear what I'm doing to you."

You scream. You can't help it, the pleasure is too intense, too overwhelming, building and coiling tight in your belly, your orgasm approaching like a freight train. He's recording your face, the camera capturing your mouth open in a silent scream, your eyes rolled back, tears streaming down your temples into your hair.

"That's it," he pants, his thrusts becoming erratic, losing their rhythm as he chases his own release. "That's it, baby, cum for me, cum on my cock, let me feel you-"

You break. Your orgasm crashes through you, violent and beautiful, your pussy clamping down on him, milking him, and he groans, long and loud, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, hot and thick and endless. But as you come, as your body convulses around him, something else happens, something wet and shocking, and you're squirting, actually squirting, your release gushing out around his cock, mixing with his cum, creating a mess of fluids that soaks the sheets, his thighs, drips down your ass.

"Holy shit," he breathes, his eyes wide and wild, the camera still recording, capturing the obscene flood of liquid, the way it glistens on his skin, the way your body continues to shake and convulse. "Holy fucking shit, baby, look at you, look at this-"

He pulls out slowly, his cock still half-hard, dripping with your combined release, and he holds it up, angling the camera to capture the mess, the way his cum mixed with your arousal drips from his shaft, thick and white and obscene.

"Suck it," he commands, his voice rough, his hand tangling in your hair. "Suck your cum off my cock. Clean me up, kitten."

You scramble down, your body still trembling from aftershocks, and you take him into your mouth, tasting yourself, tasting him, the mixture salty and musky and filthy. You hollow your cheeks, sucking hard, your tongue swirling around his sensitive head, and he groans, his hand tightening in your hair.

"Fuck, yes," he pants. "My balls, kitten, suck my balls."

You pull back, your hand wrapping around his shaft, and you duck down, taking one testicle into your mouth, then the other, rolling them on your tongue, sucking gently while your hand works his length. He pulls your hair, guiding you, his hips bucking slightly, and then you pull back, kitten licking him, small, teasing laps at the head of his cock, your eyes looking up at him through your lashes, innocent and filthy all at once.

"Perfect kitten," he breathes, his voice wrecked, his eyes dark with renewed desire. "My perfect little kitten. Look at you, so eager, so good for me."

He starts fucking into your mouth, his hand guiding your head, his hips snapping forward, pushing his cock deep into your throat, and you relax, let him use you, let him take what he needs. He's relentless, his stamina shocking, and you can feel him swelling, feel him getting close again.

"I'm gonna cum," he warns, his voice strained. "Gonna cum again, baby, gonna-"

He thrusts deep and holds there, his cock pulsing, and he spills down your throat, hot and thick, more than you thought possible, more than should be human. You swallow, your throat working, your eyes watering, and when he finally pulls out, spent and trembling, you collapse back onto the pillows, laughing, the sound breathless and beautiful and disbelieving.

"I can't believe you had all that cum inside you," you marvel, your voice hoarse, your lips swollen and glistening. "That was... that was the third time?"

He collapses beside you, his chest heaving, his skin flushed and sweaty and marked by your nails, your teeth, your possession. He pulls you into his arms, his hand cradling your head against his chest, and you can hear his heart hammering, feel the rumble of his laughter.

"For you," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your hair. "Only for you, pretty girl. You drain me completely. You ruin me."

The phone is still recording somewhere on the bed, still capturing the aftermath, the sweat-slick mess of your bodies, the way you curl into each other like survivors of some beautiful storm. But for now, you just breathe, just exist in this moment of shattered, perfect aftermath, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest, his hand stroking lazy circles on your back.

He doesn't ask. He just moves, shifting off the bed with a grace that seems impossible for someone who just spent himself three times over. You hear water running in the bathroom, the sound of a cloth being wrung out, and then he's back, kneeling between your thighs with a warm, wet towel in his hand.

He cleans you slowly, carefully, his touch reverent where it had been ruthless before. He wipes away the mess of your combined release, the sweat, the evidence of everything you did together, and his eyes follow the path of the cloth with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. He presses kisses to your inner thigh, your hip, your stomach, each one soft and lingering, worshipping you in a different language than the one he used when he was inside you.

When he's finished, he tosses the cloth aside and crawls up your body, his weight settling over you again, but different now, protective, cocooning. He finds your mouth, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that tastes like salt and love and exhaustion. He bites your bottom lip, catching it between his teeth, pulling slightly until you whimper, and then he releases you with a laugh, low and warm and vibrating against your skin.

"Beautiful," he whispers, his forehead resting against yours, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw like he's memorizing you, like he's trying to commit every inch to memory. "You're so fucking beautiful. Do you know that? Do you know what you do to me?"

You smile, your hand coming up to tangle in his hair, still damp with sweat. "Show me," you whisper back.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, really look at you, his eyes dark and endless and full of something that makes your breath catch. He cups your face in both hands, his thumbs brushing over your swollen lips, and when he speaks, his voice is rough, stripped bare, nothing but truth.

"I fucking love you," he says. "I love you so much it scares me."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy and real and perfect, and you pull him down, kiss him deep and slow, pouring everything you can't say into the movement of your lips against his.

The camera is still recording somewhere, still blinking its red light in the dark, but neither of you reach for it. Some moments are just for you. Just for this. Just for the two of you, tangled in white sheets in a Miami hotel room, sweating and spent and in love, the rawest thing either of you have ever known.

it was a late, blazing july afternoon with the kind of california heat that sticks to everything.

your beater car had just given up on you in the worst possible place it could—pulled over on the stretch of a busy road with no shade, just heat shimmering off the black asphalt and distant palm trees that don't feel helpful at all.

you already tried the obvious things. ignition, gas, trying it all again like it might change something.

it never did.

you leaned back against the passenger door of your car letting out a frustrated breath, hair sticking to your neck as you watched cars pass by with the soft sound of your hazards blinking in the background.

of course it's today. of course it's here.

that was when you suddenly heard the low hum of an engine slow down beside you. a sleek, black bmw—expensive, but not loud about it. it pulled in front of your car, and for a second you think the car is just stopping briefly.

that was before the driver door opened.

he steps out like he’s not in a rush to be anywhere else.

tall—noticeably so, he moves towards you easily, like he’s used to taking up space without ever forcing it.

sunglasses sit low on his nose, shielding his eyes, but not enough to hide the way his attention lands exactly on you. his shirt is simple—lightweight, slightly open at the collar, sleeves pushed up just enough to show his forearms. nothing flashy.

but it fits him too well. everything about him does.

dark jeans, clean shoes, watch on his wrist that you can't recognize but can tell is expensive. you notice all of him in the mere seconds he takes to walk over to you, the feeling hitting you all at once.

dear god, he was fine. the kind that made you straighten up a little bit without realizing; running a quick hand through your hair and fixing your jewelry.

he walks toward the front of your car, unhurried, one hand sliding briefly into his pocket before resting against the hood of your car.

up close, it’s worse.

sharper features than you expected. clean, but not overly polished. there’s something slightly worn in about him—like experience and maturity that sits on him well.

“everything alright?” he asks, voice is low and steady.

you blink for a second longer than necessary before responding. why does he look like that... helping me with my car?

"uh-" you stammer before clearing your throat. "it's- it's dead."

"yeah..." he says, eyes examining your car closer. "i can see that."

you nod and suddenly there's a pause, small but noticeable.

he comes around the side of your car, closing the distance between you to look inside of the window. you fumble while taking a few steps back as he looks at your dashboard then back at you, suddenly flustered by his presence.

"you got jumper cables?" he asks.

you simply shook your head.

"didn't think so," he says simply.

he walks back to his car, and you stand there feeling so helpless in the hot sun as he turns his car around to face yours in a swift manner, opening the door casually before coming around to his trunk like he's done this plenty of times.

when he comes back with the cables, he quickly slides his sunglasses in a way you almost miss a glimpse of his whole face.

you assumed it was because of the sun. but little did you know, it wasn't.

because before he walked back to his car, he had looked at you a little too closely. it wasn't some polite, quick glance. it was one that lasted a second too long.

he noticed everything about you.

the way your top fits—not overly revealing, but just enough to catch his attention without trying. the fabric light, slightly clinging from the heat. your skirt—shorter than it probably needed to be, riding just a little higher from the way you shifted against your car door.

his gaze dropped, brief, controlled—then came back up. your legs, your hands, the thin bracelet at your wrist. rings that don’t match perfectly but somehow work. jewelry that feels personal to you.

he takes note of that. of course he does.

then, your face. slightly flush from the heat, skin warm toned and sun-kissed. there's something effortless about you, like you spent more time living in the sun than hiding from it.

your expression—somewhere between annoyed and trying not to be. and your eyes, focused on him, but not softened. not entirely impressed by him, but more appreciative.

and when he closed his trunk, he forgets to look away. so he pulls his sunglasses back over, quick and casual. like it's nothing.

and not because of the sunlight, but because he was looking at you a little too openly. and he knew it.

he arrives at your car and connects everything smoothly, no hesitation and big hands steady. it was unfairly attractive.

“so,” he says, glancing up while he works, “you live out here or just enjoying the scenic breakdown experience?”

a smile pulls at your mouth despite yourself. “neither. i was just trying to get home.”

“mm.” he clicks something into place. “dangerous thing to try in LA.”

that gets a small laugh out of you, softer now and less defensive.

when the car finally sputters back to life, you visibly relax. he steps back, wiping his hands lightly. “there you go."

you should've just said thank you and left. but something in you doesn't act immediately. because now that the problem was gone, the silence between you two felt different now.

“so how do i… repay you?” you ask, half-joking, half-serious.

he tilts his head slightly. "you don’t.” a beat passes. "just don't break down in the worst place possible next time."

you rolled your eyes a little, a smirk tugging at your lips. "no promises."

that earns a small smile from him. he steps back toward his car, then pauses like he’s deciding something.

“i’m—” he starts, then stops himself, like he’s choosing not to introduce himself the usual way. "i’ll see you around.”

"yeah... thank you."

and you watch him get back into his car, driving away and getting lost in the sea of los angeles traffic as you realized two things;

you didn't get his name, and you would likely never see him again.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

one week later

he's just getting off the phone when it happens.

“yeah, send it over tonight,” he says, already half-distracted. “i"ll listen then.”

a pause. “mm. yeah. i got it.” he ends the call before the other person finishes their last sentence.

he slips his phone into his pocket, stepping onto the sidewalk, the afternoon sun hitting just right—warm, a little blinding, the kind of los angeles light that makes everything look softer than it is.

but he's not really paying attention at first.

he's thinking about work. about a track that still isn’t sitting right. about whether he even wants to go to the next session he has lined up.

and then—he sees you.

just down the block, wired headphones plugged into your ears as you walk towards a small coffee shop.

it takes him half a second too long for him to register it. he slows before stopping in his place on the scorching sidewalk just to be sure.

same walk. same unintentional confidence—like you're not trying to be noticed, which somehow makes you stand out more. your outfit catches his attention again without effort. something light, slightly different from the first time he saw you, but still you.

skirt again—of course. not the same one, but same idea.

he notices that. he notices everything.

you push the door open to the shop before disappearing inside. and for a second—he considers just letting you go, letting the roadside interaction stay that way, a one time street kind of thing that didn't need to turn into anything else.

he exhaled quietly before shaking his head, "yeah, no." he changed his direction subtly like he was always going that way.

by the time he reaches the door, he's already composed again. no rush or urgency in him, just the same steady stride he always carried around.

inside the cafe, it’s quieter than the street. low music, soft conversations, and the smell of coffee swirled in the air.

he scans the space once and it doesn't take long for him to find you, standing near the counter, slightly turned away, looking up at the menu like you're stuck deciding between the same two things.

he watches you for a second. not long, but enough. and suddenly, there's that feeling again rising up in his chest.

he steps into line behind you—close enough to matter, not close enough to be obvious. he lets the moment build naturally. of course he does. he lets you stay unaware just a second longer.

then, as you shift your weight and turn slightly back—he steps forward at the exact right time. light contact, your shoulder to his chest. just enough to capture your attention.

"oh, sorry—" you say automatically before looking up. it took a moment for you to process that the same, gorgeous man who jumped your car last week was the one currently blocking your vision.

he tilts his head slightly, like he’s just as surprised. “well,” he says, calm, almost amused, “this is becoming a pattern.”

you blinked. "you... helped me with my car."

"i did," he agrees. "and now apparently i'm following you around LA."

you narrow your eyes slightly. "are you?"

he puts a hand over his chest, mock offended but calm. “i prefer ‘running into you repeatedly by tragic coincidence.’”

that earns a laugh from you, the first real one between you. the barista calls you next in line, and he trails behind you like you're a couple ordering together. his presence alone makes your heart thump against your chest.

the barista takes your order and before you can even unzip your purse to pay, you already see a large hand coming from behind you, inserting a card in the machine.

the barista hands the man behind you the receipt and you turn around abruptly, tilting your head up to fully face him as you both drift away from the register. "i can pay for myself," you said.

"i know," he says simply.

"i was supposed to pay," you corrected as you picked up your freshly made coffee order.

"why?" he asked genuinely, tilting his head to match the angle of yours. it sent a light pink blush up your cheeks.

you look at him like the answer is obvious. "because you jumped my car."

his eyebrows pulled together. "that was like five minutes of my time." you all but blinked, suddenly at a loss of words under the intense gaze of this mysterious, confident man.

he begins to walk towards a table and you follow him, still protesting under your breath. "that doesn't mean you get to—"

“get to what?” he glances back at you, sunglasses now off, and it’s worse without them in a way—more direct, more readable. more of his perfectly chiseled face exposed to you. “buy you coffee?”

you open your mouth, then close it. because the way he said it made it sound ridiculous to argue.

you both end up choosing a table by the window. endless blue, moving slowly under the late afternoon sun. a few people pass by on bikes, others walking along the sidewalk with iced coffees in hand, like time moves differently here.

not sat too close to him, not too far—just enough space that it could still be casual if either of you decided to pretend it was.

“so, what do you do?” you ask finally, wrapping your hands around the cup.

he leans back slightly in his chair. “music.”

“that’s vague.”

“it's intentional.”

you give him a look. “oh, so you’re mysterious.”

“i’m tired,” he corrects lightly, a smirk of amusement tugging at his lips. “there’s a difference.”

that makes you smile. “what, like a band?” you press.

“no,” he says. “behind the scenes.”

“oh.” you tilt your head. “like a manager?”

he pauses for a moment. "something like that."

it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. you nod like you accept that answer, but the curiosity doesn't go away.

“and you?” he asks.

you almost laugh. “i don’t do music.”

“didn’t say you did.”

“i mean…” you gesture vaguely. “nothing like that. i work. i live on the edge of LA where nothing interesting happens.”

his gaze holds on you a second longer than necessary. "that’s not true,” he says.

you frown slightly. “you don’t even know me.”

“i know you broke down on the side of a road in peak heat and didn’t immediately panic,” he says. “that tells me something.”

"like what?" "that you're stubborn," he replies calmly.

you lean forward a little, eyes analyzing his expression. "that's not a compliment."

“it can be,” he says. “depends who it’s about.”

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

you and him slip into easy conversation—half started stories, simple questions, the kind of conversation that doesn't feel like you're trying too hard.

you're mid-sentence, explaining something about where you live—how everything feels slower out there—when he interrupts you, but gently. “how old are you?”

you pause, caught off guard. “that’s random.”

“it’s relevant,” he says, like that should be obvious.

“to what?”

he lifts his cup slightly, studying you over the rim for a second before answering. “to how seriously i should be taking you.”

your eyebrows lift immediately. “excuse me?”

there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “i’m kidding,” he says, calm, unbothered. “mostly.”

you shake your head, trying not to smile. “twenty four.”

he nods once, like he expected that. “yeah,” he murmurs.

“yeah what?” you press.

“nothing,” he says, setting his cup down. “it makes sense.”

“that’s so annoying,” you say. “you don’t get to say that and not explain.”

“i just did.”

“no, you didn’t.”

he leans back slightly, relaxed, completely comfortable letting you be a little frustrated. “you carry yourself younger at times,” he says. “but not in a bad way.”

you narrow your eyes. “that still feels like an insult.”

“it’s not,” he says, softer now. “it’s honest.”

you look at him for a second longer than you mean to. “okay,” you say quietly. “then how old are you?”

he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he tilts his head slightly, watching you like he’s deciding how much to give. “what do you think?” he asks.

you study him now, more deliberately. he doesn’t look older, not really. no obvious lines, no tiredness. and of course, he looks put together in a way most guys your age aren’t.

“twenty-seven,” you say finally. “maybe twenty-eight.”

he lets out a soft laugh—low, almost under his breath.

you frown immediately. “what?”

“nothing,” he says, shaking his head slightly with amusement.

“no, what?”

“you’re off,” he says.

“by how much?”

he pauses, then shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “enough.”

“that’s not an answer,” you says leaning forward closer now.

“it is,” he replies calmly. “just not one you like.”

you stare at him, half-annoyed, half-curious. “you’re not going to tell me?”

“not yet.”

your eyes narrow. “why?”

he meets your gaze fully this time. “because i want to see if it changes anything for you.”

you lean back slightly, thrown off in a way you don't show completely. “why would it?” you ask.

he shrugs after a small pause. he glances down at your cup. “you drink your coffee too slow, by the way.”

your mouth falls open a little as the moment quickly softens again. “oh my god.”

“just saying.”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“and you’re still here,” he points out lightly.

the conversation drifts again after that, easier now. you talk more without meaning to—little things, fragments of your life. he listens in a way that feels attentive, but not invasive. like he’s not collecting information, just understanding your pace.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

you both drift toward the door without really deciding to. the conversation doesn’t end—it just slows, like both of you are aware it has to, eventually.

outside, the afternoon has softened. the heat isn’t as sharp anymore, but it’s still there, hanging in the air between you.

you shift your weight slightly, glancing down the street, then back at him. “this was…” you start, then stop, like you don't want to overdefine it. he watches you, gazed fixed on you patiently.

“unexpected,” you continue on.

he nods once. “yeah.”

“i still owe you,” you say.

he glances down at you. “you don’t.”

“i do.”

“you don’t,” he repeats, softer but final. but after a small beat, “if it makes you feel better, you can get the next one.”

you narrows your eyes. “there’s going to be a next one?”

he paused again, but only for a fraction of a second too long before he shrugged slightly like it was nothing. "if you break down again, i might start thinking it's planned."

you rolled your eyes, but a smile pulled helplessly at your lips. as you stepped out into the light of the sun, you realized two things at once. this man still hadn't told you who he is or his name, and that you somehow already agreed to see him again.

"let me see your phone," he said lowly, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes once again. it wasn't really a question.

and so you reached into your pocket, pulling out your phone, and without asking—he takes your hand gently, turning your palm slightly towards his. the faintest brush of his fingers sent an unexpected warmth up your arm in a way you couldn't ignore.

he picked up your phone that now seemed so small in his hands, typing something quickly before handing your phone back. you looked down at your screen, squinty slightly from the sun.

his name. a number.

joon 213-555-0010

when you look back up at him, he's already watching you—unreadable in a way that sent a pink flush throughout your cheeks.

"joon," you said, like you needed to say his name out loud. like you knew it was just a nickname.

he simply nodded, something small like a smile tugging at his lips from the sound of you hearing his name. "yeah."

he paused, low eyes peering above his sunglasses as he looked at you closely. "you gonna tell me yours?" he asked lowly, the baritone of his voice hitting a little too close.

so you told him, and he repeated it a few times under his breath like he had to let it sink on his tongue. "y/n," he said finally, voice quieter than usual. "pretty name for a pretty girl."

your eyes couldn't help but widely slightly at his bold words, the pink on your face turning into a deep red.

a small pause filled the air before you swallowed, trying your best to lock in your confidence in front of this man. "you didn't ask for my number," you said.

"i know."

"that's a little backwards."

"not really."

you titled your head. "why?"

he took a step back, giving you just a little more space. "because now it's your choice."

you study him for a second, like you're trying to figure out if this is some kind of game. some kind of reality tv show where they prank you with some hot mysterious man. but it didn't feel like one.

"and if i don't text you?" you ask.

a small pause before he shrugged easily. "then i'll assume you didn't want to." but his tone didn't have any pressure or persuasion in it.

"confident," you mutter.

"selective," he corrected.

you almost rolled your eyes—but you don't quite let it happen. he glances past you for a second, like he's remembering that he actually has somewhere to be. then, they quickly averted back to you.

"if you do," he continues, quieter now. "don't over think it."

you let a small laugh. "too late."

that earns a small smile from him, dimples tugging at his cheeks in a way you noticed immediately. "i figured."

another pause before he steps back swiftly, like he's deciding that he couldn't stay any longer than necessary—even if he wanted to. "i'll see you around," he says, for the second time.

before you can respond, he's already turning and stepping away, suddenly gone in the same effortless and casual way he arrived.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

that night, you tell yourself you're not going to think about him.

and you failed immediately.

you failed when you went to dinner with your friends, when you did chores around your house; in the shower and when you laid in your own bed that night—the bed that was supposed to make your thoughts go away. it was the small things at first.

the way he didn’t rush anything. the way he answered questions without really answering them. the way he looked at you like he already understood something you hadn’t said out loud yet.

and as the night continued on, the bigger things settled in your brain, making heat shamefully pool between your legs.

he didn't ask for your number. he didn't try to lock you in. instead, he just left his number with you.

who is he?

your phone sat next to you with the screen dark and off, but it felt louder than anything else in the room. you fell into a cycle of picking it up and putting it back down.

finally, you picked it up again, finding his contact. you flipped it shut, sucking in a sharp breath at the thought of messaging him. you found your thumbs typing, deleting, then typing something again.

you exhale softly, leaning back against your pillow trying your hardest not to overthink it, his voice replaying in the back of your head.

he wasn't some typical guy—you could tell in the way he carried himself. he walked casually, but with assurance. he dressed with stride, but still managed to blend in. he talked with confidence, and every line was coated with experience.

so now, it wasn't just about texting him. it's about what it would mean if you did. because somehow, after one roadside encounter and a cup of coffee—you already wanted more than you should have.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

namjoon's drive back was quiet. not because he wanted it to be—but because nothing else fit how he felt at the moment.

not even any of his music.

he had driven these streets thousands of times. the same turns, the same streets, the same palm trees. usually his mind is somewhere else entirely—work, mixes, deadlines, people who expect things from him.

but not tonight. because tonight, it kept circling back to you.

it all kept replaying in his head—the way you looked at him like you were trying to figure him out. he noticed the way you didn't try too hard. you didn't perform like everyone else in LA.

you didn't know what he is, who he is, or what kind of world he's involved in.

that was the part that was stuck in namjoon's head so deeply. because most people that meet him are already adjusted to him—already well aware, careful with their words and their tones, their intentions.

but you certainly weren't.

because you argued with him. you rolled your eyes and called him annoying. and you meant all of it.

a faint smile pulled at his mouth as he came to a stop at a red light. "twenty-seven," he muttered to himself, shaking his head and laughing slightly.

but still, you didn't hesitate.

he pulls into his place, kills the engine, but doesn’t get out right away. he glances at his phone, sitting in the center console of his car, dark and quiet.

but he doesn't reach for it. because namjoon was a patient man—he always had been. in work, in life, in everything that mattered.

once he gets inside his spacious, sleek home, he dropped his keys on the counter, running a hand through his hair, exhaling.

namjoon had been with plenty of women before. older, younger—in his world and outside of it. he always knows how it goes. he knows how to keep it light and uncomplicated.

but this didn't feel like that. because it felt like something that could get complicated. but instead of pushing it away like he normally would, he leaned into it. just a little.

an hour passes. then two.

namjoon tells himself he's not checking his phone. but it turns out to be a lie, because throughout night—he checks it without picking it up. glancing every time he walks past, like it might light up if he looks long enough. but it doesn't.

he tells himself to relax, that you have a life or that you might not be interested at all. but still—he wonders what you're up to. if you're thinking about him the way he's thinking about you. if you're overanalyzing that moment outside of the coffee shop.

suddenly, his phone buzzed. he doesn't look right away. he just looked at it before reading the unsaved number, no name attached. he picks it up and opens it almost immediately.

unknown: do you always leave girls with this much pressure or am i just special?

he lets out a quiet breath—half a laugh of amusement, half something else. there you finally were, exactly the way he had anticipated. he begins to type before he stops and quickly deletes it.

he leans back against the counter, thinking—not about what to say, but about how much he should give. because namjoon didn't want to rush this. he didn't want to come on too strong.

but he couldn't pretend that he was unaffected either, because he most certainly couldn't even if he wanted to. not with you.

he types again, this time sending it.

him: i was starting to think you wouldn't.

he watches the screen for a second longer than necessary, saving your contact before setting his phone down. it wasn't far, but it was just enough. because now, you know that he was waiting too.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

you exhale softy, rolling onto your back with a smile that couldn't help but tug at your lips.

you: oh so you were waiting

a pause settled on the screen before the typing bubble popped up again.

joon: i was curious

you: that sounds like a more mysterious way of saying waiting

joon: you can call it whatever makes you feel better

and now, you definitely smiled at that. because he was already doing that thing again—side stepping without hesitation.

you: you're too difficult to read

joon: you're trying too hard then

you: i think you're just confusing

joon: only for you sweetheart

you actually laugh out loud at that, shaking your head and ignoring the way the nickname made pink tint your cheeks.

you: wow so is this how you talk to every girl you buy coffee for?

his reply comes faster this time.

joon: i don't buy anyone coffee

you: good answer

joon: an honest one what are you doing right now?

you glanced around your room like he could somehow see.

you: nothing important

joon: doesn’t sound convincing

you: i could say the same about you

joon: i’m working

you: doing your very mysterious job?

joon: still stuck on that?

you: a little

joon: you'll figure it out eventually

you bit your lip slightly, thinking of an answer.

you: you're very sure i'm going to stick around long enough to figure it out

joon: aren't you?

your heart does that annoying little jump again, and you don't answer right away. and he doesn't send anything else. instead, he waits. three minutes later;

you: maybe

joon: that's a start

another painfully long beat passes before your cellphone vibrates again.

joon: you busy tomorrow night?

you stare at the message, blinking twice to make sure you read it right. but somehow, half of you wasn't surprised. you were practically waiting in a way you couldn't admit. but the other half was incredibly in shock.

you started to type.. deleted it.. then typed again.

you: depends what are you planning?

joon: something better than coffee

you smiled immediately, even though you tried not to.

you: that's a little confident

joon: doesn't seem like you hate it

you: i don't

joon: good

a pause settled on the screen again.

joon: 8?

you exhaled slowly, the reality creeping in as you stared at the screen. you were really going to go on a date with this man. the same, confident and attractive man that had jumped your car and saved your day. the same man who's age and job you couldn't quite detect.

you: okay

joon: i'll pick you up don't overthink it

you rolled your eyes, smiling.

you: too late

joon: i know

and just like that, with one text conversation, it definitely was more than just a street thing.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

you almost regret saying yes the moment you hear a car pull up outside, engine rumbling lowly outside your apartment window.

not because you didn't want to go, of course. but because now, it's real.

you check yourself in the mirror one last time, smoothing the bumps in your hair and coating your lips with gloss one last time. simple, but intentional. something that said you tried... but didn't try too hard.

your phone buzzed.

joon: i'm outside

when you step out, you see the car first. the same sleek and clean car that had pulled over in front of you on that busy highway engulfed in heat.

then him.

leaning slightly agains the driver's side door, towering over the car with his sleeves pushed up, looking like he's only been there for a minute—but completely settled anyway. he wore a costly-looking dress shirt, glimmering chain around his neck and a sparkling watch wrapped around his built arm. you swallowed hard.

his eyes flick up from the ground immediately when he notices you. and for a second, he just looks at you. completely, unashamedly taking you in with his eyes slowly.

"yeah..." he says lowly, dragging his lips ever so quickly along his lips as you approached him, heels clicking beneath you. "you're going to be a problem tonight."

you couldn't ignore the heat that sent down your spine, but you simply peered up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently. "aren't i always?"

"i haven't seen you always," he replied.

you rolled your eyes, but a small smile pulled at your lips anyway. then, he stepped back, opening the door for you. you don't the miss the way he does it without hesitation. and when you sit inside, you don't miss the way his gaze burns into you before closing your door.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

the drive was easy, music low in the background, city lights coming to life as the sun started to dip below the horizon.

namjoon doesn't fill every silence—and somehow it makes it easier for you to talk.

"so where are you taking me?" you ask eventually.

"you'll see," he says casually, one hand on the steering wheel while the other rested between you.

"that's not helpful."

"it's not supposed to be."

you shook your head, smiling out the window. he pulls up to a restaurant that sits right by everything—the beach, the water, and the city. it was definitely upscale, but nothing intimidating.

inside, the lighting is warm yet dim, swift music playing and low conversations humming.

you were seated quickly. no waiting or confusion. you didn't quite realize the line of people who were standing for a table, and how you and him were able to breeze right past it.

when you arrive to your seat, it's right in front of the window, city lights and palm trees stretching on the glass in front of you. he pulls your seat out for you, helping you take off your coat and placing it along your chair.

after you place your orders, the conversation flows faster this time. less guarded, and more natural.

"so," he says, leaning back in his chair slightly. "what do you actually do?"

you sigh softly, like you already know the answer isn't impressive, even compared to his incredibly vague one. "i’m a waitress," you say. "nothing exciting."

he watches you for a second. "you keep saying that."

"because it's true."

"or because you think it's supposed to be."

that made you pause. "it's not exactly... impressive," you admitted.

he shrugs lightly. "most things that are don't matter."

you let out a small breath, like you didn’t expect that answer. “you always talk like that?” you ask.

“like what?”

“like you know something i don’t.”

a small smirk pulls at his mouth. “sometimes i do.”

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

you and namjoon are laughing a few minutes later—about something small and stupid—and it feels easy. too easy.

the song currently playing comes to an end and the music shifts. a different song comes on—smooth, familiar, something that's even playing everywhere recently.

you perked up immediately. "oh my god, i love this song."

he stills ever so slightly. it's quick and barely noticeable, but there's a flicker of something across his face. he glances down at the table, then back up at you. "yeah?" he asks, casual.

"yeah," you nod, smiling. "it's so good."

he hums in response, leaning back in his seat like it's just background noise. "not bad."

you narrow your eyes slightly. "not bad?" he shrugs. "it's alright."

you laugh. "you're impossible."

and he doesn't argue. but there's a faint smirk but he doesn't fully hide this time.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

the dinner stretches longer than you expected. because neither of you seem to be in a rush to end it.

by the time the check comes, you reach for it instinctively. because at the cafe, he said he would let you get it this time.

but he's faster. of course he is.

"you don't have to—" you start.

"i know."

"that's not fair," you protest.

"it doesn't have to be," he said.

you sigh, but you're already smiling again.

as he hands the card over, the server pauses. "sorry," the server says, almost hesitant. "are you... are you—namjoon—"

namjoon already knows what's coming. he exhales softly, not annoyed at all, just used to it. "yeah," he says with a polite smile. you blinked.

"sorry- i thought so. i didn't want to assume."

he gives a small, reassuring nod.

"do you think i could-" the server gestures awkwardly. "just like, a quick autograph? my brother and i are huge fans."

you completely froze.

fan?

huge?

he doesn't make it a big deal. "yeah, no problem," he says, like it was normal. like this happens all the time. because it does.

he signs something quickly, hands it back with a polite smile.

"thank you—i appreciate it. you two have a great night," the server said before walking off.

silence settled between you for the brief a second. you were completely staring at him now, trying to control your facial expressions as you processed what just happened.

"you didn't tell me that happens to you," you said.

"i didn't think it mattered," he replied casually.

"well," you said slowly. "what exactly do you do?"

there it was. the question he definitely couldn't avoid this time. he leans back slightly, studying your expression. it was curious, but not intimidated or totally impressed. just curious.

"i told you," he said. "music."

you shook your head. "no, you said behind the scenes."

he huffed a small breath, close to a laugh before he paused. "i produce," he said finally. it was simple and direct—no bragging or boasting.

you blink again. "like... that song?"

a beat passes for a small moment before he nods once. "yeah."

and now, the air between you shifted. because now you knew; he wasn't just some guy who stopped to help you on the side of the road.

and somehow, it almost made things worse. because now, you had to figure out why he's here... with you.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

the air outside feels cooler than before. or maybe it’s just because of the way everything shifted inside.

namjoon pushes the door open for you, stepping slightly to the side to let you walk out first—but as you pass, his hand settles lightly at the small of your back.

guiding. not grabbing or lingering too long. just there, resting on your back. it's subtle, but you can feel the intention seeping through you, especially in the way it instantly sends a shiver up your back.

your steps slow for half a second—not enough for him to comment on, but enough for you to notice yourself.

but he notices too.

you both walk a few steps in the parking lot in silence. it wasn't awkward, it was just both of you recollecting the entire night—including who he really was.

“so,” you say finally, glancing over at him, tone light like nothing’s changed, “you’re kind of a big deal, namjoon.”

he exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “no.”

“that guy literally asked you for an autograph.”

“that happens sometimes.”

you narrow your eyes. “that’s not normal.”

“it is for me,” he says simply. it wasn't cocky or defensive, just the honest truth. it should've been intimidating. but you didn't let it land that way.

you shrugged slightly. "okay. but that still doesn't mean i'm impressed."

there's a pause before he looks at you—really looks this time. and something shifts in his eyes, subtle but sharper. more interested and intrigued by the young woman standing before him.

"good," he said lowly.

you blinked. "good?"

“i’d be a little concerned if you were.”

your lips press together slightly, trying not to smile. “you’re unbelievable.”

“i’ve been told.”

you both reach his car, but neither of you move to get in right away. he leans back against it slightly, arms relaxed and eyes fixed on you.

you cross your arms again. not closed off, just grounding yourself under his gaze. "so you just... make songs people know?"

"sometimes," he said with a shrug.

"ugh, that's such a non-answer."

his lips fought a smile at your remark. "it's an accurate one."

you shook your head, a small laugh escaping you. "you're so annoying."

"but you keep talking to me," he points out.

you finally glance up at him fully, and for a second, the eye contact lingers for a moment too long. it causes you to look away first, pink tinting your cheeks.

and namjoon notices everything.

the way you're holding eye contact a little less now. the way you're slightly more aware of yourself. the way you're trying not to let it change anything. but it doesn’t turn him off—it only pulls him in more.

“you got quiet,” he says.

“i didn’t.”

“you did.”

you look away for a second, then back at him. “i’m just thinking.”

“about?”

you hesitate. “nothing,” you say.

he tilts his head slightly, unconvinced—but he doesn’t push. instead, he steps a little closer. not enough to crowd you, but enough to spark the energy in the space between you even more.

“you’re doing that thing,” he comments quietly, eyes trailing up and down your figure.

your brows knit. “what thing?”

“trying to act like nothing changed.”

your stomach flips—annoyingly and immediate. “because nothing did,” you said.

a pause fills the air. he studies your face, like he’s deciding whether to call it out further. “alright,” he says finally.

you exhale softly. “you’re not going to say anything else?”

“i don’t need to.”

“that’s so—” you cut yourself off, shaking your head.

he watches you, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth now. “say it,” he murmurs.

you look at him, trying not to react to the way his voice dropped slightly. “it’s just… a lot,” you admit.

your answer was too honest for your liking, yet he didn't laugh or dismiss it. "yeah," he said quietly. "it can be."

a beat passed. "but i'm still the same guy you had coffee with," he said softly. and those words land, harder than anything else he's said.

you study him for a second, searching for something—ego, arrogance, anything that would make this easier to categorize.

but you don’t find it. instead, you're only able to find that same calm, steady version of him. the one who stopped his car for you. the one who let you decide whether to text him. the one who didn’t even bother to impress you.

“…okay,” you say finally. and you mean it.

there was a small shift in the air between you, the tension softening— but not totally disappearing.

“so,” he says, pushing off the car slightly, “you still letting me drive you home?”

you raise an eyebrow. “do i have a choice?”

“you always have a choice,” he said. a beat passes. "but i’d prefer if you said yes," he confessed playfully.

you huffs out a quiet laugh. “you’re very subtle.”

“i try.”

and for the second time that night, namjoon opens the passenger door for you. and this time, when you got in, it felt different; reality swirling around you and settling into your head.

the drive back was quieter than the one there. it wasn't awkward or empty—just filled with unspoken words and incredibly thick tension.

his gaze was fixed on the road, but you couldn't ignore the way you caught him glancing over at you multiple times in the corner of your eye. the music is low, humming softly through the speakers before another song comes on.

you glance over at the console, then over at him. "did you make this one too?" you ask, half teasing.

he doesn't look at you right away, a smirk pulling at his lips, leaving a sharp shadow along his jaw. "maybe."

you roll your eyes, fully smiling now. "you're never going to give me a straight answer, are you?"

"not all at once, pretty girl."

there it is again. not just the nickname that sent heat through your spine and in between your legs—but that confident, indirect promise of you sticking around long enough to unlock every thing about him.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

you're looking out the window, surrounded by the kind of silence that makes everything feel more noticeable. but you're not really seeing or looking at anything, because you're too aware.

too aware of namjoon. the way he drives—one veiny hand on the wheel, relaxed but precise. the way the scent of his expensive cologne and shampoo made your knees weaken. the way he continues to glance over every now and then, quick, like he’s checking something without making it obvious.

you shift slightly in your seat every time he does.

suddenly, his hand moves from the wheel for just a second—resting briefly against the center console as he adjusts his grip. but through that movement, his large fingers brush lightly against your thigh.

he dragged them ever so softly on your thigh for what felt like forever—but only lasted two seconds—before moving his hand back to the center console. his fingers were barely there, not lingering or deliberate enough to call out. but it wasn't exactly accidental enough to ignore either.

your breath catches for just a second, but he doesn't react or apologize. he doesn't even look at you, and somehow that makes it worse.

you swallow hard, turning your head slightly towards the window again. but now you're even more hyper-aware of the space between you. your heart was doing something very annoying again, and you knew it.

he knew it.

he slows the car as you reach your place, parking smoothly before killing the engine. and just like that, everything went still.

neither of you moved right away. you looked down at your hands, then back up like you were about to say something. but you didn't.

he simply watches you for a second, less teasing in his eyes and more focus. he took in every inch of you, sitting so still and pretty in his car. looking at him like he was still the same guy who jumped your car, not like he was a guy who made every hit song. "you got quiet again," he says softly.

you let out a small breath. "you keep saying that."

"because you keep doing it."

you glance at him. this time, you don't look away immediately. "i'm just thinking."

"dangerous," he murmurs, pulling a small smile from you.

you reach for the door handle. "thanks for dinner," you say, like you're trying to keep it normal.

"yeah," he replies with a soft smile.

you open the door, stepping out thinking that the night is wrapped up. that he'll pull away and let you go. but then, you hear his door open too.

he rounds the front of the car, meeting you halfway up the short path to your door. he took his time not rushing—because he never did.

when you stop in front of your door, you turn to face him. and suddenly, it's close. closer than it's been all night. there wasn't a table, a center console, or any distractions now. just him, towering over you and filling your entire vision with nothing but him. his musky cologne quickly filled your nostrils, throwing your mind off balance.

"you don't have to walk me up," you say quietly, close to a whisper.

"i know," he says. but he doesn't step back.

a long pause fills the air, stretching long enough for the tension to feel intentional. his gaze drops briefly, to your lips—then back up to your eyes.

your breath catches again, softer now. but you were too close for namjoon to not notice it. "are you always this—" you start, then stop.

"this what?" he asks lowly, clenching his jaw ever so slightly at the mere sight of you fumbling with your words in front of him.

you shake your head slightly. "i don't even know."

a faint smile pulls at his mouth. "good." he took another step closer, not enough to trap you, but enough for the warmth of his body to wrap around you.

then, his hand lifts, hesitating for half a second before gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. he does it carefully, like he was giving you all the time in the world to pull away. but you didn't.

"you're overthinking again," he murmurs, low eyes scanning every inch of your face.

your voice comes out quieter than you expect. "you keep saying that like it helps."

"it does," he suggests casually.

"how?"

he leans in barely. he doesn't completely close the distance between you, but it was enough to send a bolt of warmth down your body. "because you're still here."

you tilt your head up just a little, before he leans in just a sliver more. and for a second, the moment is right there, sitting heavy in the little distance there was between you.

and then, he stops. just barely, coming to a small still when you could practically feel his breath on you. just enough that it didn't happen.

your eyes flicker across his face, confused, a little breathless. he watches your reaction carefully, low eyes trained onto your every movement.

and suddenly, there's that faint smirk again—but it's softer; barely there and more restrained than usual in a way you almost didn't catch.

"goodnight, doll," he said lowly. "sleep well."

like nothing had almost just happened.

he steps back, ripping the thick air that had just sat between you like a third person. breaking it and leaving you there standing with it.

“you’re—” you start, but you don't even know what to call him.

he tilts his head slightly, licking his lips and averting his gaze down you one last time. “what?”

you exhale half-laugh and half-frustration. “annoying.”

he smiles, dimples pulling at his cheeks. “i know," he says, before turning around and walking back to his car.

from the doorstep, you watch him get in, turn on the engine, and leave. leaving you there with more thoughts than your racing heart could keep up with and a miserable dampness in your panties.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

namjoon's place is quiet again. too quiet.

he tosses his keys down, walks a few steps in, then stops—like his body forgot what he was about to do.

because his mind was entirely somewhere else.

it was still at your door. still immersed into that moment.

he leans back against his kitchen counter, exhaling. he's replaying everything now, like dinner—the way you didn't switch up when you found out what he did. you weren't suddenly impressed or started asking the wrong questions.

you stayed the same. maybe you were a little quieter, a tad bit more aware. but you didn't completely fold.

that absolutely sat under namjoon's skin now. he was completely enamored by you, and didn't want to pull a girl like you into his chaotic world. didn't want you to adjust to him because of who he was, like most people did.

but you didn't. you just took it in, and kept going. you stayed exactly the same—you still called him annoying and told him he wasn't impressive.

he looks at his phone sitting a few feet away. he already gave you control once. he let you decide whether or not to text him, to decide if it was going to go anywhere or not.

but he wasn't going to do that tonight.

him: you always look at people like that or was that just for me?

he sets the phone down, but not far. because you've consumed every inch of his mind again without even trying to. he thinks about the your eyes dropped to his lips, the way you didn't pull away.

his jaw tightened slightly. he knew he was in trouble.

his phone lit up again.

her: like what?

he lets out a quiet breath, a smile pulling at his lips. the way you played it off, like you always did, made him only want more. made him think that maybe he should've kissed you right then and there—should've forgot about being a man and taking his time with you and—

he slowly took in a deep breath through his nose, dragging a hand across his face.

him: like you were about to do something you'd regret

her: don't know if i'd call it regret

namjoon liked that a little too much, licking his lips and leaning back. because now, he knows you felt it too.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

a few days and several text conversations later, namjoon sends you a text on a night he knows you're not working. no question or explanation, just;

joon: be ready at 7

when he picks you up, the air already shifts when you walk outside. it was in the way he looked at you, slow and deliberate, like he wasn't hiding it at all anymore. he takes his time, eyes trailing from your shoes, to the way your skirt falls, the jewelry at your wrist, to your face.

"you always dress like this, doll?" he asks lowly, stepping closer to you.

you raise an eyebrow, ignoring the way the name made your brain feel like mush. "like what?"

"like you knew exactly what you were doing when you picked that."

your lips pressed together slightly, trying not to smile. "maybe i did."

a faint smirk pulled at his lips. "yeah," he agreed. "i think you did."

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

the driver is longer, along the coast again. his tinted windows are cracked, music low with the sky fading into the darkest blue that only happens by the water.

you and namjoon talk, but it's far from that careful, first date way. the conversation flowed between you easily. you interrupted each other, went off on tangents. doubled back to things you both said earlier. like you both have done this together longer than you actually had.

when you arrive, the place is even more secluded than last time. a quiet overlook with soft lights and the ocean extending endlessly in front of you. the sound of waves clashed below in a way that was steady and grounding.

it felt private, like the rest of the world didn't exist here.

you and namjoon sit closer this time without question. dinner stretches and the conversation flows. you don't even discuss all the big things, but it's the way you talk about the small ones that makes it feel different.

you tell him about what hobbies you have, about your job—how it's routine, how people underestimate it, and how sometimes you feel stuck. and he doesn't brush it off or give you empty encouragement like most people did.

"you're not stuck," he corrected you firmly.

you scoff every is slightly. "that's easy for you to say."

"it's not about me," he replies softly. "you just need to find what you want."

you pout slightly in a way that makes his heart falter. "and you have?"

he pauses for half a second. "yeah." that same confidence remained in his tone, and for a second it felt like he might have been talking about something else.

at some point, his hand settles at the back of your chair. but this time, it stays. it wasn't touching you directly, but it was close enough to make you aware of it. aware of him.

you shift slightly and his slender fingers brush at your shoulders. they rest there for a second longer than necessary before pulling back. his warmth and his actions sent an unbearable heat between your legs.

after dinner, you both step away from the table, walking along the edge of the overlook. the night air is cooler now, ocean breeze slipping through you. you and him walk a little closer than before, shoulders lightly brushing with every few steps.

you wrapped your arms around you slightly, and his jacket is already around your shoulders before you can say anything.

you glance back at him, stopping in your steps to look at him properly. "you know... you're very sure of yourself."

"that bothers you?"

"no," you admit honestly. "it's just—different."

he pauses for a small moment. "from what you're used to?" he asks.

you nod slightly. he studies you for a second. "you're trying to figure out how old i am again."

your eyes widen slightly. "i'm not—"

"you are."

you exhale. "okay, maybe a little."

he lets your confession sit in the air before he nods slightly toward a couple walking past you two—a generation older than you, quieter, and settled. "you think i'm closer to them, or closer to you?" he asks.

you look back at the couple, then back at him. you really look at him, thinking about the way he carries himself. the way he speaks. the way he doesn't rush anything.

your expression shifts. "...okay," you say slowly. "how old are you?"

he pauses for longer than just a few seconds. "thirty-three," he answers finally.

you can't help but blink. once. twice. "...really?"

"yeah."

you study him again, like the answer didn't quite align with what you were seeing. "you don't look thirty-three."

"i know," he answered casually.

"that's kind of unfair," you said playfully.

he smiled softly. "i've heard that."

a quiet beat passes as namjoon watches you carefully, curiously watching your expression.

you shrug slightly. "okay."

he tilts his head. "that's all?"

"what?" you ask. "were you expecting something else?"

"most people... adjust," he stated.

you look at him deeply, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "well i'm not most people."

he steps closer, lightly closing the space between you. his scent filled your head once again, making your breath catch.

"yeah," he said lowly. "i noticed."

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

later, when you leave the restaurant together, you don't rush out. you never do.

namjoon walks slightly behind you first as you both headed towards the entrance, one hand finding its way onto the small of your back. it became natural now, something you didn't react to—externally, at least.

his hand was there, guiding you carefully down the steps.

two hostesses near the front glance up. then they glance at namjoon. then to you, then back at him.

a quick look exchanged between them followed by a few whispers and positive smiles. he catches it immediately. of course he does.

namjoon doesn’t look directly at them—he doesn’t acknowledge it—but there’s the faintest change in his expression. then his hand presses just slightly firmer at your back.

a quiet, almost instinctive gesture. not to show off. just to keep you close—and slightly focus the attention on you.

you don't notice the whispers, but you do notice the presence of his hand grow warmer. "what?" you ask, glancing back at him.

"nothing," he says easily.

the lights from the restaurant glowed behind you, the cool night air and a soft breeze coming off the water hitting you all at once.

there's a small set of marble steps leading down towards the parking area. you start down them without thinking—mind entirely captured by namjoon—and suddenly your heel catches slightly.

it's quick—barely a stumble, but it's enough to throw you off balance slightly. his large hands instantly find their way to your waist firmly, tightening his grip and steadying you before you could even process anything.

"careful, baby," he murmurs, low and close. the name slipping out like it had always belonged there.

you freeze for half a second, breath catching slightly before you steady yourself, hand instinctively brushing against his arm.

"I'm fine," you say, a little too quickly, beginning to continue a careful ascend down the steps and ignoring the heat on your cheeks.

namjoon however, doesn't move his hands right away. they linger on your waist a second longer than necessary, making sure you're fully balanced. "i know," he says calmly.

you look up at him, trying to play it off. "you don't have to—"

"i know," he cuts in softly.

and when you reach the bottom of the steps, his hand doesn't leave your back. it stays there, steady, guiding you towards his car like you're already part of his space.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

the drive back is quiet, the low vibration of the music and the city lights and palm trees flickering past practically lulling you to sleep.

and namjoon's presence, of course.

his large hand rested on the wheel, the other on the center console. close enough. by the minute, you swear it continues to get closer.

"tell me about him," namjoon says suddenly, the deep baritone of his voice making your thighs press together slightly.

you frown slightly from confusion. "about who?"

"your ex."

it catches you off guard. "...why?"

he shrugs lightly, sharp eyes still on the road. "i'm curious."

you hesitate before sighing. "he was..." you trailed off, trying to find the right word. "lazy."

half a second passed. "immature," you added. "didn't really pay attention to me unless it was convenient."

and as you talk, namjoon's jaw tightens slightly. it's subtle and controlled in a way you don't notice, but it's there.

"he just-" you shook your head slightly, looking out the window. "i don't know. it felt like I was always asking for the bare minimum."

for a long second, silence fills the car. namjoon's fingers tap once against the console. then, they shift. his hand moves unhurriedly, eventually finding its way to rest against your thigh, making a sharp bolt of warmth shoot down your body.

"yeah," he says finally, voice low and rough. "that sounds about right."

you glance at him. "what does that mean?"

he paused for a second. "guys your age," he continues, calm but edged with something sharper now. "they don't know what to do with a woman like you."

your stomach flips in a way that is impossible to ignore. "and you do?" you ask teasingly, trying to keep your tone steady.

his thumb shifts slightly against your thigh slightly. butterflies erupted in your stomach and your thighs shifted in a way you couldn't help, trying to disregard the heat between your legs.

"i wouldn't ignore you," he says simply.

the air in car seems to shift as you swallow hard, glancing out the window before looking back at him. "you barely know me."

"i know enough," he answers.

your breath catches slightly. namjoon's hand stays sat on your thigh steadily, like he knows exactly what it's doing to you.

"and i definitely wouldn't have you asking for anything," he adds. his words land deeper than they should, etching themselves into the back of your mind without asking.

you let out a quiet, almost nervous laugh. "you're very confident."

"i'm honest," he says. he pauses for a moment. then, his voice drops just a little—"big difference."

you look at him again, thoroughly scanning his face this time. "you always talk like that?" you ask.

"only when i mean it."

another silence settles between you, this time sitting thick; heavy with everything both of you haven't said. his hand finally shifts, but not away from you. it only slides higher along your thigh before settling again.

"relax, doll," he murmurs softly, voice low and deep.

you exhale slowly, trying to steady yourself. "you're doing that on purpose."

"doing what?"

you shake your head slightly. "you know exactly what."

a faint smirk pulls at his lips. "yeah," he answers. "i do."

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

suddenly, the rest of the drive feels too short.

namjoon pulls to your curb, parking swiftly with one hand before cutting the engine. silence fills the space, neither of you reaching for the door immediately.

you look down at your hands, then back up, like you're about to say something—but the words don't come as easily now. because everything, from the restaurant, the drive is still sitting in between you. his hand, his voice. doll.

"you got quiet again," he says softly.

you let out a small breath. "you make it hard not to."

he stills ever so slightly, like your words had pulled something out of him. "do i?" he asks.

you look at him, holding his intense gaze this time. "yeah."

he pauses for longer than normal, eventually moving his hand before his mouth. he starts slow—not to your thigh this time—but higher. his fingers lift, brushing lightly along your jaw. just the tips, tracing the line like he needed to memorize it.

your breath catches immediately, peering up at him through your eyelashes as you seemingly couldn't look away from his face. he tilts his head slightly, watching your reaction closely.

"you always look like this when you're thinking?" he murmurs.

your voice comes out quieter than you expect. "like what?"

his thumb lingers beneath just beneath your chin for just a second. then it shifts slightly, guiding your face just enough so that you're looking directly at him and nothing else.

"like you're trying to figure out if this is a good idea," he says.

your heart practically stumbles. because he absolutely was right. "and?" you ask quietly.

a small smirk pulls at his mouth. but this one was softer, like it was more certainty than teasing. "i think you already decided," he murmurs. his gaze drops briefly, down to your lips, then back up again. this time, he doesn't even try to hide it.

"you're dangerous, you know that?" you say, barely above a whisper.

he leans in slightly, his scent taking over your lungs. "yeah?"

your breath is uneven now. "yeah."

his gaze drifts again, over your face, slower this time. fully taking you in. "you still thinking about the age thing?" he asks.

"no," you respond, holding the burning eye contact.

he studies you for half a second, like he's deciding if you're telling the truth. then, he exhales quietly, almost amusedly. "yeah," he says. "didn't think you would."

his hand lifts from your chin before resting lightly at your waist, thumb pressing just slightly before easing.

"probably better for you," he adds, voicer lower now, teasing but grounded in something real and deep, "if you didn't get used to someone like me."

your stomach flips instantly. "who says i'm getting used to you?" you shoot back, trying to play it off.

a smile tugs at his lips. "doll," he murmurs, softer and closer, the warmth of his breath hitting your neck. "you're already here."

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

a few days later, namjoon sends you an address located in the corner of a private street in LA telling you to meet him there. telling you that he wanted to show you something.

a building tucked slightly off the main road, close enough to the water that the air already feels different when you step out of the car.

you hesitate for a half a second before going in. not nervous, but just a little too aware of what you were walking into. with a few instructed taps on the door buzzer, you were let in.

inside, the hallway light is dim, soft lights lining the walls that were decorated with award cases, album posters, and framed vinyls. the floors were sleek and bass echoed through the walls.

you followed the sound the sound down the hallway, until you find a studio door that's slightly open. the gold plate on it reading, "kim namjoon" then below it, "head executive producer."

you exhale softly, heart slightly stopping at that and swallowing a little too hard before you push it gently, and that's when you see him.

sitting at the main console, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting near the soundboard. one hand adjusting a dial, the other resting against his chin like he's listening too closely.

he was so immersed that he hadn't noticed you yet.

the room was lowly lit—colored LEDS instead of overhead lights, the glow from the equipment reflecting softly against his face.

and there's something about him like this—focused, quiet, and completely in his element—that hits differently, making your stomach twist into a knot.

his sleeves are pushed up again, glistening watch catching the light as he moves his hand. a chain rests below his collar, barely visible, but sparkling in the light.

everything about him is so simple, but it fits him all too well. you don't mean to stare, but you definitely do.

and then, like he felt it—namjoon finally glances up. your eyes immediately meet, and you swear you felt a spark flash through your body.

for a split second, he doesn't say anything. he just looks at you, gaze taking you in deliberately.

then, he licks his lips so lightly you almost don't catch it. "you just going to stand there," he says, voice low and soft. "or are you coming in?"

you blink, snapping out of your trance slightly. "i-i didn't want to interrupt."

"you didn't," he replies easily. but his eyes linger on you for a second longer, almost like he knew you were watching him.

you step inside, softly closing the door behind you. the white lighting from the hallway had disappeared now, fully engulfing you into his world—his studio, his creative space—the place where he made every hit even possible. the big room suddenly felt smaller now, more private.

you look around, taking it all in. the walls are boarded with soundproof panels, and large speakers are placed around the sleek equipment. there's two chairs, a beanbag, and couch with folders of music sheets and lyrics scattered on the floor and on counter tops. "this is... really nice."

"mm," he hums, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs slightly. "it works."

you glance at him. "you say everything like that."

"like what?"

"like it's not a big deal."

a faint smirk. "it's not."

you roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. he gestures towards the seat next to him. "come here." it wasn't a question.

you walk over, sitting beside him—closer than expected, immediately greeted by his warmth and the musk of his cologne.

he turns towards the console, grabbing a pair of high-end headphones. "listen to this," he says. he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear before carefully placing them over your head.

music plays—smooth and layered. it had no lyrics, but it was already catchy. you hummed in delight. "it's really good," you said softly, gently taking the headphones off.

"i know," he replies casually.

you laugh. "you're insufferable."

he glances at you, a smirk forming. "you're still here though."

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

after a few minutes of namjoon showing you some buttons, he glances at you. "you want to try something?" you look at him, a bit hesitant. "like what?"

he shifts slightly, turning your chair just enough so that your angled more towards the board. "come on," he says, nodding towards the controls. "i'll show you."

"...i feel like i'm going to mess something up," you say.

"you won't."

"how do you know?" he leans in slightly, his breath hitting your neck ever so slightly. "because i'm right here."

your stomach flips again. he reaches around you slightly, one hand bracing lightly against the edge of the console near you, the other guiding your hand toward a dial.

“turn this,” he says, voice lower now, near your ear.

you try to focus. you really do. but namjoon is close. too close. his warmth spilling all over you, hitting you in all the places that made your thighs pull closer together.

you turn the dial slowly—and immediately the sound distorts in a ridiculous way. you both pause.

"...was that supposed to happen?" you ask.

he stares at the board for a second before a short laugh escapes him, dimples tugging at his cheeks. "no," he says.

you burst out laughing. "i told you!"

he shakes his head with another laugh, reaching forward to fix it, his arm brushing yours again. "you didn't break it," he says. "relax."

"i definitely did something."

"you did," he replies with a smile. "just not what i said."

you laugh again, softer this time.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

you're standing now, not sitting anymore.

because namjoon told you to.

“stand here,” he said, guiding you lightly by the waist until you were in front of the soundboard. no asking, just placing you there. you stiffened under his touch that sent a light shock through you.

"relax, doll," he murmurs behind you. the deep baritone of his voice hitting a little too close.

you exhale slowly, trying to focus on the board in front of you—but it's hard when you can feel him right behind you. he steps in closer, practically pressing you together.

one hand reaches around you, bracing against the console. the other finds yours, fingers sliding over yours, adjusting your grip on one of the controls. "not like that," he says, low. "too quick."

"i'm not doing anything fast," you defend weakly, trying your best to sound steady.

you hear a quiet, almost amused exhale behind you. "yeah?" he murmurs deeply.

his chest brushes lightly against your back as he leans in closer, guiding your hand again—slower this time. "you rush when you're nervous."

"i'm not nervous."

"mm," he hums, unconvinced. his hand tightens slightly over yours, turning the dial with you. the sound shifts, smoother this time. "like that," he says.

but he doesn't move away, not even a little bit. you swallow, your body hyper-aware of every point of contact. his hand over yours, his chest behind you, his voice vibrating your ear. and you definitely tried to ignore something hard resting against your ass.

"you do this with everyone?" you ask.

"no," he answered simply.

at to that, your heart stumbled. his hand left yours, but only came to settle at your waist, firm and steady. in his grip he turned you slightly—not fully, but enough to turn your attention away from the board and onto him. "you're distracted again," he murmured.

you let out a soft breath. "you keep saying that like it's my fault."

a smirk pulls at his lips, one that you can practically hear in his voice. "doll," he says lowly, "you haven't been focused since you walked in."

your stomach flips as you turn your head slightly, giving just enough space to look back at him—but it's a mistake. because he's already looking at you, his face much closer than expected and barely any space left between you now.

"you always get like this?" he asks softly.

"like what?"

his gaze drops slowly, then back up again. "quiet." he pauses. "...when you feel something."

your breath catches. "you act like you know me," you say.

"i do," he replies casually. those words shouldn't hit you as hard as they do, but they do anyway—causing your heart to leap.

he shifts you fully this time, making you fully face him as his large hands still rested at your waist, thumbs pressing in ever so slightly.

"or maybe," he adds, voice quieter now. "you're just not used to someone who pays attention."

your chest rises slowly. "and you do?"

"to you?" he asks quietly, something flickering across his eyes. "of course i do."

a small pause. "i wouldn't ignore you," he mutters in your ear, breath hot down your neck in a way that makes your hairs stand up. his hand tightens slightly against you. "not like they did."

his words land, striking the base of your heart deeply. "and i definitely wouldn't have you guessing where you stand."

your breath is uneven now, but you can't seem to look away. "confident," you murmur.

"experienced," he corrects simply. his voice and his head dips lower just slightly—"difference is...i know how to treat a woman like you properly."

and suddenly the last thread holding you steady is already gone. you exhale softy, almost a laugh, but not quite. "you always talk like this?"

"only when i mean it."

silence fills the space around you, heavy and close. one of his hands lifts from your waist slowly before coming to your jaw and tracing along it deliberately, just like he did before.

his thumb sits at your chin, tilting your face up just slightly. it takes everything in you for your knees to not buckle right then and there, taking in his low, piercing gaze.

"you keep looking at me like that," you whisper.

"like what, hm?" he asks, voice low as he tilts his head lower, leaving little space between your noses. you felt like your whole world was spinning, trying to ground yourself properly without clinging onto him.

"like you're about to do something."

he pauses for a split second, licking his lips while his eyes practically swirled with darkness. then—low and certain—"i am."

and this time, namjoon doesn't stop himself. he leans in, fully closing the last bit of distance between you, crashing his lips onto yours. it's immediate—but not rushed. he kisses you slow, deep, like he's been holding it back for too long and finally had decided he was done.

you respond quickly, completely melting under the contact and moving your lips into his. your breath catches against his, one hand instinctively finding one of his big arms, while the other gripped on his shirt to steady yourself— because it hits you all at once.

the way he pulls you closer against him, one of his hands firmly settled at your waist while the other holds your head possessively, gently tilting your head at an angle that allowed him to kiss you deeper.

you lean into him without thinking—and he feels it, of course. he hooks his fingers around the belt loop of your denim skirt, pulling you even closer. the kiss deepens—but it isn't overwhelming. it's certain, like he wanted to take his time with his lips against yours.

your fingers tightened against him, causing him to exhale quietly against your lips, like he had been waiting for that exact response from you.

when you both pull back, you barely move an inch. foreheads close, breath uneven, and neither of you pulling away. his hands remain at your waist, yours still on him.

and after a second of catching your breath—namjoon leans in again. not because he's testing it anymore, but because he wants it—no, he needs it again. and you seem to meet him there just as fast.

his lips capture yours for the second time that night, practically taking your breath with him. your thighs press together slightly as you kiss him back, your hand sliding higher along his arm, gripping his bicep and pulling him closer without even realizing it.

his grip tightens slightly. "don't start something you can't finish, doll..." he murmurs quietly against your lips, voice rough.

the kiss suddenly shifts, not messy or rushed—but hungry. namjoon's hand slid shamelessly down your waist and onto your ass, sliding up and down its curve like it was already his.

that pulled a gasp out of you, and he saw it as the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. you allow him, opening your mouth more to let him further explore it with his tongue. your lips practically molded together, saliva mixing as he swirled his tongue around yours.

"look at you..." he mutters, barely pulling back, his thumb brushing your jaw again. "so responsive."

your stomach flips more times than you can count. "don't—" you start, breath uneven, but you can't even finish the sentence before you feel dampness between your legs.

"don't what, baby?" he asks lowly, smirking faintly against your lips. "don't notice you?" he kisses you again before you can answer. his hand slides up from your ass, up your waist to your side—slower and more deliberate, before settling it there again, like he's grounding you there with him.

your grip on him tightens, deepening the kiss without intending to. "doll..." he murmurs, quietly now like it's a warning.

but he doesn't stop, and you most certainly don't want him to. all of a sudden namjoon is moving, guiding you back without breaking the kiss, step by step, until the back of your legs hit the couch.

you exhale softly in surprise—before you're sitting and he is too, pulling you with him. now, you find yourself on his lap—straddled on top of him with his hands firmly gripping your thighs and with everything much closer.

your hands find his broad shoulders, this time holding onto him like you desperately need to steady yourself, leaning into him once more. and namjoon notices, like he always does.

a low exhale leaves him, almost like a quiet laugh. "not pulling away anymore, are you, baby?" he murmurs, brushing his lips along your jaw slowly while his big palms drag up and down your thighs.

his plush lips trace the line of your jaw, littering soft kisses and your head tilts slightly to give him space without even thinking about it. "good," he praises quietly against your skin, lips trailing their way down your neck.

as he presses soft kisses along your neck, one of his hands presses a little firmer into your thigh, keeping you against him as the other rested gently at your neck—not enough to put pressure—but enough for your mind to go blank and make your thighs noticeably shift.

your breath hitches just above him, and his other hand soothes slowly against your thigh to steady you. "you have no idea..." he murmurs, lightly digging his teeth into your skin, making you shudder. "how hard i was trying to take my time with you."

your fingers tighten against him, struggling to ignore the unbearable ache in your core. "then why aren't you?" you manage softly, voice weaker than usual, knowing you didn't want that.

he paused for a moment, the warmth of his breath tingling down your neck and through your spine. his voice comes lower this time, but steadier. "because you stopped me from wanting to."

he pulls back just enough to look at you again, dark and low eyes trailing every inch of your face. his hand comes up, brushing your hair behind your ear slowly, slower than before.

"you're trouble, princess," he says lowly, another nickname rolling off his tongue with ease. "but i like it."

your breath is still uneven, your heart racing faster than your mind—but you don't look away. "good," you murmur.

namjoon's jaw tightens slightly at that—not in frustration, but in complete restraint. what's left of it, at least.

his hand that rested along your neck slid up, tilting your chin upwards with his thumb once again, making sure that you were really looking at him. "you sure about this, doll?" he asks lowly.

you nod without hesitation. "yes."

a small pause fills the thick, small space between you, but his smoldering gaze doesn't leave yours. his gentle hold on your jaw tightens ever so slightly—not to harm you, but to ground you into the moment. "you understand...i'm not the kind of man you forget after this."

your breath catches, but you don't pull back. "i know," you say softly, holding his gaze.

his hands return to your waist, firmer this time, pulling you just slightly closer to him—close enough that space barely existed anymore. "yeah..." he murmured, his thumb tracing lightly along your skin. "then stay with me."

you nearly shuddered from his words, the warmth of his body on yours surrounding you and making your skin tingle. "i will," you nearly whispered, praying that he couldn't feel the dampness between your legs at the thought of never leaving his side.

"good," he grunted in your ear, hot breath spilling down your neck. he pulled back just slightly before closing the space between you once again, tilting your head with his thumb and pulling your lips in with his unhurriedly.

you immediately softened into him as you moved your lips together, your chest immediately becoming flush against his and practically folding underneath his touch. his hands left your waist, finding their grip lower and onto your ass, holding you steadily against him while his tongue explored you once more.

his lips left yours to litter your neck with kisses—sloppy and open-mouthed this time, sucking harder and marking a trail of red marks down to your collarbone. you whimpered with every suck, thighs noticeably shifting against his legs.

namjoon's slender fingers found their way underneath your top, sliding it up slowly—like he was waiting for you to stop him—but you never did. you only complied, lifting your arms up. and in one swift motion, your top was off, and his lips already found themselves on your cleavage.

"so beautiful, baby," he murmured into your skin, tongue lightly lapping against the mark he had just made on top of your breast.

suddenly you felt his big palms on your waist once again before he manhandled you—lifting you up and lying you gently across the couch before his large figure quickly filled your vision and filling up your entire view.

all you could see in the ambient light of his studio was his broad shoulders, his low, piercing eyes, and glimmering chain now hanging in front of your face before he captured your lips again. you practically moaned into it, fingers gripping tightly into his shirt like you needed more.

"fuck," he murmured against you between kisses, intertwining his long fingers with yours, dragging your palm deliberately up his chest. your hands moved before your mind, tugging him closer by his shirt and immediately fumbling with the buttons.

he smirked, large hands moving to help you take it off. once he tossed it somewhere in the room, your hands danced around his body greedily, trailing over his abs, from his chiseled chest and to his swell back.

"should be taking you to my house like a fuckin' man. should fuck you in my bed slow 'n proper. but i've lost my patience with you, doll," he breathed lowly, licking his lips with hunger.

you could only bring yourself to whimper, as namjoon's big palm creeped around your thigh, trailing every so slowly inwards before stopping. your legs couldn't help but twitch helplessly underneath his touch, causing him to let out an amused breath of air.

"but you don't want that, do you?" he asked lowly in your ear, the desire in his voice making your core ache with unbearable need. his hands trailed closer to your heat, dragging his fingers leisurely against your inner thigh.

you shook your head desperately, but that wasn't enough for him. his fingers hooked around your skirt. "wanna hear you use that pretty mouth of yours, baby."

"i—yes—" you blurted breathlessly, struggling to find the words. "i want it—want you. here, joonie. right now."

his cock strained even harder against his pants. "good girl," he muttered before pulling your skirt down. when it was disregarded, namjoon's hands found your thighs again and you suddenly felt his long fingers trace against slowly against your sopping heat barely shielded by your lacy thong, sending a shiver down your entire body.

"wet for me already and i haven't even started with you," he smirked, finally hooking your panties to the side and letting your soaking core be hit by the cold air. your thighs instinctively went to clamp shut, but he quickly stopped them with his big hands.

"so sensitive, doll," he murmured, placing one big thumb just above your clit while the other fingers outlined your inner thigh. "guys your age don't take their time like this, do they?"

you shook your head immediately, whining out before his fingers glided up slowly against your wetness, his index finger swiping in between your folds. his thumb rubbed your clit in a long circle, pulling out a desperate whine out of your mouth.

finally, he pushed one long finger in between your folds, sliding into your hole that sucked him in, your wetness gushing his fingers. you whined loudly as he dragged it along your walls before plunging back in.

namjoon closed the distance between your faces, capturing your lips in with his and sucking on your bottom lip as he inserted another finger, thrusting into you at a steady pace while his thumb remained on your clit.

when he pulled away, it was only to align his face at your entrance. his hand firmly gripped onto your thighs, holding you in place. his fingers slowed inside of you as his nose came close to your core, the warmth of his breath directly hitting your pussy and making you twitch underneath him.

a small smirk pulled at his lips before he poked his tongue out, licking a light, gentle stripe against your folds. "mm, taste so sweet, baby." you reacted immediately, thighs clenching around his head in a way he enjoyed a bit too much, his free hand wrapping around your leg firmly as he lapped delicately at your entrance.

you moaned his name, legs finally relaxing under his grip as he took his time with soaking your taste on his tongue. namjoon couldn't help but smirk against your folds, his plump lips completely enveloping your pussy into his mouth and sucking your wetness in hungrily.

it wasn't long before you felt his tongue greedily prying through your entrance, crying out in breathless moans. his two fingers stretched open your walls to allow more room for him to explore you with his tongue.

namjoon was absolutely driving you over the edge—his tongue plunged through your tight walls like no other, slender fingers stroking your insides while his thumb massaged your clit vigorously. he ate at you like he had starved for this—your back immediately curving off of the couch as you felt unbearable pressure twine into your stomach.

"that's it, doll," he cooed against your folds, his nose sitting on top of your clit. then, his voice dropped lower—"cum for me."

and so you did—completely letting go as your first orgasm tore through you like lightning. your legs shook around namjoon's head, his free hand rubbing against your thigh gently while his two fingers slowed inside of you. his tongue moved against your folds slowly, taking in every last drop of your release between his lips.

when your body was finally at ease from the state of euphoria he took you to, namjoon trailed kisses from your stomach and up, his hands gently caressing your sides.

"look at you taking me so good," he murmured between kisses, lips on yours now. "think you're ready for my cock, hm, baby?"

you nodded quickly, practically squirming beneath him. "yes joon—need it so bad." your fingers found his belt loop—his large hands finding yours immediately, helping you take off his pants entirely.

it was then when you saw the largest imprint strained tightly against his boxers, making you swallow hard without even realizing. his fingers looped around the hem, taking them off in a swift motion as he stood up.

his cock sprung out in front of you—thick, long, and angry with pre-cum glistening at the end. you sat up straight, jaw slightly slack without even realizing. namjoon's lips fought a smirk as he hovered over you, large shoulders swell and thick member curving up.

his low eyes looked down at you, clouded with darkness. he wrapped his large hand around the thick base of his cock, stroking slightly while taking in the sight of you in front of him.

"fuck," he grunted, "don't got any condoms, baby." "it's okay, joon," you replied softly.

"you sure, doll?" he asked, tracing his fingers lightly against your jaw, tilting your head to look up at him fully.

you nodded. "wanna feel all of you," you said almost shyly.

"have no clue what you're doing to me," he responded lowly, almost to himself. then namjoon leaned down, grabbing your hips and lifting you up swiftly. you yelped in surprise as he sat down, bringing you back on top of his lap. only this time, you were skin to skin, your arousal miserably smearing onto his legs.

but he didn't seem to care. his large hands rubbed softly down your sides as he licked his lips. "you're so small, baby," he muttered in your ear, his thumb pressing into the side of your hip. "might break you."

"that's okay," you whispered, peering up at him with big, needy eyes.

"yeah?" he asked darkly, like your response had just snapped the last bit of restraint left in him. he held onto your hips firmly as he pulled you up, aligning your entrance with his cock. "gonna ruin you then, baby."

your hands gripped onto his broad shoulders immediately to steady yourself, his fat tip pushing through your folds and breaking into your tight entrance. you moaned out in a mix of pleasure and pain, feeling every inch of his width pushing slowly into your walls as you sunk down fully on his lap.

his grasp on you became tighter as he guided you further down, hissing in pleasure as he split you open widely with his cock. your eyes shut tight as your inner thighs kissed his. slowly, the tip of his member found the back of your walls, your head throwing back from the overwhelming stretch.

namjoon held you against him firmly, allow you to fully adjust to his length before he captured your lips into a kiss. "it's okay, doll," he murmured against you. "you're taking me so well."

after a minute of soft, warm coos in your ear—namjoon began to slide you up and down his vast length slowly with his large hands, emitting a loud whine from your lips. soon, he picked his pace, his cock repeatedly kissing the deepest part of your hole. "good baby... that's it," he praised lowly.

your head was filled with nothing but the thought of you, him, and his fat cock curving up inside of you and exploring your walls. he took you to a pure state of euphoria as he thrusted up in you. his hold was firm on you as he bounced you up and down his cock.

your eyes fluttered at your view, melting under his piercing gaze— his jaw tightened in pleasure and concentration, low eyes scanning your fucked-out expression hungrily. you nearly screamed in pleasure.

"such a good girl for me," he grunted in your ear, one large palm trailing up your sides before resting along your neck. his fingers wrapped around it slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to apply pressure that made your mind dizzy and your pussy clench his member tightly.

his other hand came firmer around your waist before suddenly you were moving—your head being guided back down on the couch while your body was being manhandled by namjoon while he kept his cock buried deep inside of you. one hand settled beside your head while the other remained grazing your throat lightly.

once you both fully adjusted to the new position, namjoon continued to thrust in you, roaming your pussy at an entirely new angle. your wetness gushed around his cock sloppily, filling the room with lewd slapping noises. "you fit around me so well, doll," he muttered breathlessly, breath shooting down your spine as he littered messy kisses along your neck.

his hand traveled from your throat down to your thighs, finding your clit and rubbing it softly. you were a moaning mess beneath him as he fucked you relentlessly now, tip slapping messily against the spongiest part of your walls, making your mind go blank.

his palm found its way around your thigh, lifting it above his shoulder. he closed the distance between you two, cock greedily marking a place inside your hole in a way no one had ever done before as his chest pressed against yours.

he rutted his length inside of you, making your eyes roll back and the couch move back and forth with every movement. "gonna fill you up tonight, doll. gonna make you mine," he murmured. "what do you think, baby?"

you could only moan in response, lost in the feeling of his cock buried so deeply inside of you. "nuh uh," namjoon ticked lowly, his thrusts becoming brutal. "wanna hear that pretty voice of yours, baby."

"mmph—yes~ make me yours, joon," you whined breathlessly.

you cried out—heat coiling unbearably in your stomach, pure bliss clouding your mind as namjoon picked up his pace, feeling your walls hugging him in tightly. "yeah... right where you belong baby," he muttered. "taking me so good like this."

your second orgasm of the night hit you even harder this time—ripping through you like a monstrous ocean wave. he fucked you through your high, your legs shaking violently against him; release spilling all over his cock as you moaned out his name breathlessly.

"that's it, baby," he grunted lowly as he made his final, slower thrusts, burying himself inside you as deep as possible before releasing his hot seed into your walls. "come on my dick, pretty girl."

your vision was practically filled with stars as your body became limp under his grasp. he milked his cock deep in your walls before he pulled out with a sharp hiss, laying down beside you—lengthy body half on the couch and half off of it.

you both laid there next to each other breathless, chests moving up and down in sync as you processed what had just happened.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

suddenly, the studio is quiet again.

it wasn't completely silent—just the low hum of equipment filling the room with one of his tracks still looping quietly in the background.

clothes half-on, curled against him on the couch with his large arm around your waist, holding you close against his chest like he had no intention of letting you drift away.

for awhile, neither of you say anything. namjoon's fingers moved slowly against your side, absentmindedly tracing soft patterns into your skin. the movement only grounded you into him more.

then finally, a low exhale left namjoon's lips. "c'mere," he murmurs softly, even though you were already pressed against him. his big hands slid higher along your back, pulling you in even closer anyway until your head was resting properly against his chest.

it only made your cheeks flush a bright red—the moment feeling possessive in a way that was ever so gentle. like he just needed to make sure you were still there. now, you can hear his heartbeat. it thumps steadily now against his large chest.

"you okay?" he asks quietly.

you nod against him. "yeah," you reply softly.

then his lips brush lightly against the top of your head, placing a soft kiss that lingers. "good," he murmurs.

something about the way he said it made warmth spread through your chest again. his hand settles at your waist once more, thumb brushing lightly beneath the fabric of your top. "you still overthinking?" he asks after a minute.

you let out a small laugh against his chest. "maybe a little."

a quiet hum leaves him. "don't."

you tilt your head slightly to look at him. his expression is softer now. his gaze still intense—because he always looks intense when looking at you—but softer. "you regret it?" he asks gently.

you shook your head immediately. "no," you replied, meaning it with everything in your chest.

at your words, something in namjoon's expressions shifts. it wasn't surprise, it was only something deeper. his hand moves to your jaw, thumb brushing slowly along your cheek.

"good," he says again, quieter this time. then, like his confidence had just made a return—"would've been a problem if you did."

you laugh softly, cheeks warming again. "you're crazy, joon."

"for you?" he murmurs. "starting to think maybe."

your stomach flips all over again. namjoon studies you for a second, gaze moving slowly across your face like he's memorizing it. like he still can't believe that you're here. with him, and in his arms.

his hand slides along your thigh gently. this time, it isn't teasing. instead, it feels familiar and warm. "come back to my place," he says quietly.

you hesitate for maybe half a second, but only because your heart is racing faster than your mind. his thumb brushes lightly against your leg. "you don't have to leave, doll," he murmurs.

"you sure?" you ask quietly. because in your past, once guys were done, they were done with your presence for the night—or even forever.

"of course," he says. then, a faint smile touches his mouth, voice dropping a little. "i'm not doing being around you."

and it only seemed that you weren't exactly done being around him either.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

two months later, being with namjoon feels easy. and it wasn't because he was simple. it was the exact opposite.

he's still intense, but still composed. he still walks through every room like he owns it without needing attention from anyone in it. but with you? he's soft in all the places it matters.

namjoon becomes part of your life so naturally it almost scares you sometimes.

mornings tangled up in his expensive sheets while sunlight pours through the massive windows of his house that overlooks the city. his large hand resting on your waist while he scrolls through emails lazily with the other. his bright smile on display every time he made you laugh or blush.

in his free time, he'd show up to your work with your favorite dinner meal. sometimes, he'd sit at a table in your section and order food just to be able to talk to you any chance you'd get.

afternoons where he pulls you into his lap while he's working on music. he'd barely let you sit more than a foot away from him before he was already touching you again somehow.

his fingers through your hair, your legs draped over his. his mouth against your temple when he quietly tells someone important over the phone that he'll "call back later."

and of course, he spoils you constantly. it wasn't in a loud way either. it was more like taking care of you and putting a smile on your face had just become his instinct.

he buys you things you casually mention liking once. he leaves designer bags on the bed like it's nothing. he'd get annoyed when you'd check price tags. he would sneakily place things in your basket at sephora as he trailed behind you, filling it up with everything you simply picked up and looked at.

you even tried to avoid going shopping with him sometimes because you never happened to pay for anything again.

"doll," he murmured one night, pulling your back against his chest, wrapping his large arms around you while you stared at a pair of brand new, christian louboutin red bottoms that he bought you. "if you like them, they're yours. stop thinking so hard."

and god, he hated it when you worked too much. he hated it even more when work stressed you out.

"you should call out," he tells you one morning, voice rough from sleep while you're leaving his bed for work.

you laugh softly. "some of us have to work, joonie."

his buff arms loop around your waist, pulling you back into the mattress effortlessly. "i know," he murmurs against your neck, nuzzling his nose into your warmth. "that's the problem."

eventually, namjoon starts saying it more seriously.

"quit," he says.

you look at him like he's insane every time. "be serious, joon."

"i am serious."

his hands slide along your thighs as you stand between his knees while he sits at the edge of the bed, looking up at you with that same, calm certainty he’s always had.

“i’ll give you whatever you need,” he says simply. “why are you stressing yourself out when you don’t have to?”

and the craziest part of it all to you, was that he meant it entirely. it wasn't because he wanted control—it was because taking care of you pulled at his dimples and his heart more than anything else ever had.

somewhere along the way, you became each other's favorite part of life. people notice too and eventually, the internet catches on.

a photo of you two start surfacing of you leaving restaurant in west hollywood, his hand firm at the small of your back. then, photos of him opening the door for you. and photos of him looking at you instead of the camera.

one set of paparazzi pictures blow up incredibly fast—you climbing into his car while he stands beside you in sunglasses and all black. one hand casually resting against the roof above your head, the other firm on your thigh as you settled into the seat.

neither of you comment on it, not publicly at least. but namjoon doesn't hide you either. because if anything—he loved being seen with you.

you noticed it in the small moments. the way his hand settled on your thigh more confidently when people recognized him on a date. the way he pulled you closer when cameras appeared. the way he looks almost amused by attention instead of irritated.

it was like he was always thinking, yeah, she's with me.

namjoon flexed you more than the music plaques on his wall or the collection of sleek cars in his driveway.

because throughout his entire career, no success, no hit record, or no amount of money—had ever made him look at proud as you do sitting beside him.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

4 months later~

the city outside namjoon's windows is glowing gold and white beneath the dark sky, soft music playing quietly somewhere in his giant house.

you're curled against him on the couch in one of his hoodies. legs across his lap while he scrolls lazily through something on his phone with one hand resting absentmindedly along your thighs.

you both had been like this all evening. quiet and comfortable; surrounded by the kind of silence that only exists when two people know everything about each other completely.

honestly, it could scare you a little. because somewhere along these four months, you and namjoon had stopped feeling temporary. it stopped feeling like some kind of whirlwind or fling.

instead, it just started feeling right. it just felt like you and him and nothing else completely belonged.

you looked over at him. observed the sharp line of his jaw that was softened by the warm lighting. the expensive watch sitting around his wrist. the reading glasses he only wore at home that sat low on his nose while he checked emails.

the realization hit you about a month ago so hard and your chest had felt tight ever since. you were completely, undeniably, and utterly in love with him. but now, you couldn't seem to hold it in anymore.

"you're staring again."

your heart jumps slightly. namjoon doesn't even look up from his phone when he says it. you roll your eyes. "you're obsessed with yourself."

a smirk touches his lips. "no," he murmurs calmly, finally looking over at you. "just obsessed with you."

you look away before he can see your flushed face, but of course he already noticed it. because there simply wasn't a thing he didn't notice about you. his phone turned off immediately. "hey," he said gently.

your eyes lift back to his. immediately his expression changes into something softer, but more serious. his hands slide up from your thigh to your waist, pulling you a little closer across the couch until you're practically in his lap. "what's going on in that head, hm?" he asks.

"nothing."

"liar."

the words are gentle, affectionate in a way. you laugh softly, but it comes out nervous. he catches that too. one hand comes up, brushing lightly along your jaw. "talk to me, doll."

you swallow. your voice comes out quietly—"what if... i love you more than you love me?"

the room goes completely still. namjoon stares at you for seconds that stretch far too long, like you had just said something completely. unbelievable.

his brows pulled together. "baby," he says softly, confused, "what?"

your heart pounds instantly at the name. you try to laugh it off, suddenly embarrassed now. "i don't know, i just—"

"no," he cuts in, hands tightening gently at your waist. they weren't harsh, but it was enough to stop you from spiraling away. "no, don't do that."

you looked back at him. and the way he was looking at you now—god. like this mattered. like you mattered.

"you really think you're ahead of me here?" he asks quietly, eyes boring into yours.

your breath catches as namjoon shifts closer, forehead resting lighting against yours. "i've been in love with you for a while now," he admitted softly.

for a second, you felt like you actually stopped breathing. his thumb brushed slowly against your cheek. "you just took longer to realize it."

a shaky laugh leaves you instantly, eyes burning now. namjoon smiles softly at that, an expression you only ever get to see.

"i love you," he says again, quieter this time. but it was certain, as if it were the most obvious thing it the world.

and suddenly every fear you had—about the age gap, about his fame, about his feelings for you—had totally disappeared. because this man—this calm, confident, impossible man—loves you so deeply that he didn't even hesitate to say it.

your eyes fluttered in disbelief, laughing away the butterflies in your stomach. "i love you too."

the smile that breaks across is face is small, but almost disbelieving. but it was unquestionably proud, like he had just won something prized. after that, he kissed you slowly. he enveloped your lips with his tenderly, soaking in all of your warmth beneath him.

"there you are," he murmurs softly. like you were always meant to end up here with him.

and somewhere between the side of the road and his arms, your little street thing had become everything.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

a/n : hope u guys loved this as much as i do eee! sorry there was so much relationship building... this is the longest bts fic i've made (on this app at least) omg..but joon is actually so sexy i could die.

read part two here

Chapters :

Chapter1 - The Gravity Between Them

31.05.26 wc: 4.7k

Chapter2 - In Another Life.

04.06.26 wc: 4.2k

Chapter3 - The Life She Built

10.06.26 wc: 10k

Chapter4 -

Chapter5 -

Taglist : Taglist is closed!

With each step closer, the music’s beat grows heavier and lower, like your own heartbeat. There’s no reason to be scared—just cautious—as you sneak a glance at a bald, muscular man who looks intoxicated and ready to chew someone’s head off.

This is no fancy club. There are no velvet ropes, no long lines, no excitement lingering in the air. At least, not for you.

If it weren’t for a twist of events, you would never come here voluntarily. Your outfit says otherwise, though.

You stand close to your friends, practically glued to their sides, as the man who looks like a straight-up junkie moves toward the club’s door. Oh, he’s the bouncer.

As he eyes all of you with empty orbs, part of you wishes he would turn you away and not let you enter this place. Your wish isn’t fulfilled. The bouncer gives Mario a curt nod, and that’s all it takes for your friend to lead the way.

As soon as the door opens, the music becomes sharper and clearer. There’s only a small space before it leads downstairs to the basement. This place is everything a mother would tell you to avoid.

Good thing you don’t have one.

Neon lights grow more visible with each step, covering the floor in flickering electric pink, acid green, and colors you don’t even get to notice as they shift too quickly. As you make it down to the main room, your mouth drops—and so does your heart.

The place is packed, so much so that it makes you question if it’s really that good. The exterior alone—the entire neighborhood—is just not it. How does Mario even know a place like this? How does he even know this part of town?

You make a mental note to question him later, because he sure as hell didn’t mention any of it. All he said was that the booze is cheap and the place is fine. If leaving means paying more for the few shots you’re about to have, so be it.

From the looks of it, everyone else is on board and follows him.

The air is thick with a mixture of scents you can’t even name. There’s a distinct smell of cigarettes, weed, and perfume—the rest, you’d rather not identify. By the time you’re out of here, you’ll reek of this place and probably have to burn the nice dress you’re wearing.

Mario promised he was only dropping something off, so this should be quick— in and out. It should be quick enough for you to grab a drink and hopefully head somewhere else.

El leans closer, her shoulder bumping into yours as she tries to be heard over the pounding music. Her voice still barely cuts through it.

“What is this place?”

You follow her gaze—and that’s when you see it.

Ahead of you, past the blur of bodies and neon light, there’s a ring. Not the kind you’d expect. Not clean, not professional. A fence cages it in completely, metal bars rising high enough to make it feel less like a sport and more like containment. Like whatever goes in there isn’t supposed to get out.

It looks barbaric. Primal. Like it was built for animals.

And the people gathered around it—too many, too eager—aren’t just passing by. They’re waiting.

You swallow, leaning in so El can hear you.

“It looks like a nightmare.”

El lets out a short breath that might be a laugh, might be something else. She tilts her head, eyes scanning the ring with something closer to curiosity than concern.

“I’ve been to worse.”

For once, you don’t question her.

El’s always been the one to drift into places like this without hesitation, coming back with stories she tells like they’re nothing—like they didn’t happen. You used to think she exaggerated.

Now, standing here, you’re not so sure.

The crowd shifts, tightening around the fence as if pulled by the same invisible string. Someone shoves past you, the smell of sweat and smoke clinging to them. Another voice shouts something you can’t make out, swallowed whole by the bass.

You glance around for Mario, but he’s already a few steps ahead, carving a path like he belongs here.

That doesn’t sit right.

Your fingers curl slightly at your sides, the fabric of your dress suddenly feeling too thin, too out of place in a room like this. The air presses in, thick and suffocating, buzzing with anticipation.

Whatever is about to happen in that ring—

You’re not sure you want to see it.

But the crowd isn’t leaving.

And neither are you.

Mario weaves through the crowd like he’s done it a hundred times, barely checking if you and El are still behind him. You push through shoulders and elbows, the press of bodies tightening the closer you get to the fenced ring.

He finally stops, gesturing toward a narrow stretch of space wedged between a rusted railing and a couple already arguing over something you can’t hear.

“Here.”

Seats is a generous word. It’s more like a claimed patch of ground—third row, if you had to guess. Not close enough to touch the fence, but close enough that whatever happens in there won’t be easy to ignore.

You glance toward the ring again.

Up close, it’s worse.

The ground inside looks… wrong. Like it’s been scraped clean over and over again. The surface is uneven, rough in places—but there are faint traces that didn’t quite disappear. Darker patches. Stains that the dim, flickering lights can’t fully hide.

Your stomach tightens.

Mario claps his hands once, like he’s wrapping something up. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Your head snaps toward him. “What do you mean stay here? What the hell is this place?”

He sighs, but it’s not sharp or annoyed—more like he just doesn’t have the energy for this right now. His eyes flick briefly toward the ring, then back to you.

“I’ll get you your drinks,” he says, already half-turning away. “What d’you want?”

You hesitate, glancing around again—the crowd, the fence, the floor inside the ring.

“I’m not sure I want to drink anything from this place.”

El snorts beside you, loud enough to earn a glance from someone nearby.

Mario rolls his eyes. “God, you’re such a snob.”

You scoff immediately. “I’m not—”

“We’ll have vodka,” El cuts in, waving a hand like she’s sealing the deal.

Mario nods once, like that settles everything, and disappears back into the crowd before you can argue further.

For a second, it’s just you and El, the noise, the heat—

And then the music cuts.

Just like that.

A sharp hum of feedback cuts through the silence, and a man’s voice follows, loud and grating through the speakers.

“Alright, alright—eyes up!”

You look toward the ring.

The man holding the microphone steps into the light, and for a moment, you’re not sure if you should take him seriously. He looks like he’s somewhere in his forties, head completely shaved, his clothes hanging off him like they don’t belong to him—too big, too worn, sleeves slipping past his wrists. The kind of outfit that looks like it was pulled from one of those street donation bins, the ones meant for charity but always picked through before anything gets there.

He has that same look, too.

Like the kind of guy you’d cross the street to avoid.

But here—here, he owns the room.

“Welcome, you animals!” he shouts, grinning wide enough to show crooked teeth. “You came hungry tonight, yeah?”

A laugh almost slips out of you.

It’s not even that funny—but something about the way he says it, like he means it, like he’s not talking to the crowd but about them, hits in a strange way. Humor, sharp and dry, cuts through the unease curling in your stomach.

Because you already have a feeling what that ring is for.

And somehow, that makes it worse.

The reaction is instant.

The crowd erupts—loud, aggressive, overwhelming. It slams into you from all sides, so intense it makes you flinch. It’s not just cheering. It’s something rougher. Hungrier.

You hadn’t realized how many men were packed into this place until now. Your stomach twists.

The man laughs into the mic, feeding off it. “That’s what I like to hear!”

He paces along the edge of the fenced ring, dragging the moment out before throwing one arm toward the entrance on the opposite side.

“Let’s not waste time. Get ready for your first fighter of the night—give it up for…” he pauses, milking it, “…Blue Viper!”

The name hits, and the crowd roars again.

A man steps into the ring.

He’s lean, all sharp lines and defined muscle, abs catching the harsh lights as he moves. Royal blue shorts hang low on his hips, matching gloves already strapped tight around his hands. He lifts his arms the second he steps inside, like he’s already won, soaking in the noise like it belongs to him.

It probably does.

“What the fuck,” you mumble under your breath.

Beside you, El swallows, eyes fixed on the ring.

“How does Mario even know about this place?” you add, quieter now, like saying it too loud might make it worse.

But there’s no time to think. The man with the mic raises his hand again, the crowd slowly settling—not quiet, never quiet, just waiting.

“And his opponent…” he continues, voice dropping just enough to build it back up, “—ah, this one doesn’t need much of an introduction.”

A ripple moves through the crowd. You feel it before you understand it.

“He’s your favorite,” the man grins. “Your undefeated—your JK!”

For a split second, your brain doesn’t catch up.

And then—

The crowd explodes. Louder than before. Wilder. People shouting, pushing forward, fists hitting the fence.

The fence door screeches as it’s pulled open.

And then he steps in.

JK.

The noise swells instantly, people pressing closer, shouting his name like it means something—like he means something. But he doesn’t even acknowledge it. Not a glance, not a flicker. His focus is locked straight ahead.

On his opponent.

He moves like he already knows how this ends.

Every step is controlled, deliberate. His body shifts under the harsh lights, all muscle and definition—abs tight, arms flexing with even the smallest movement. There’s no wasted motion in him. No nerves. Just quiet, coiled readiness.

His opponent tries to hold his ground, but you catch it—the slight tension in his stance, the way his shoulders tighten under JK’s stare.

Like he already feels it.

Up close, you catch more of him. A sharp jawline, clean and defined, his expression unreadable. When he turns slightly, the line of his back comes into view—lean, strong, every muscle moving under his skin like it’s carved there.

You hate to admit it.

But—yeah. He’s hot.

And apparently, you’re not the only one who noticed.

You glance at El, and—

Right. Of course.

She’s staring at him like she just found religion, eyes practically sparkling.

“Holy fuck,” she breathes. “Suddenly I like being here.”

You snort, shaking your head, even though your own attention has definitely sharpened.

Still…

Your gaze drifts back to the ring, to the fence, to the crowd pressing in like this is the only thing that matters. You’re not sure you like this.

Because it’s obvious now. This isn’t just some weird club attraction. This is underground fighting—illegal, brutal, the kind of thing people don’t talk about in daylight.

And somehow, Mario brought you here.

Of all places.

Your brows pull together slightly as you scan the crowd again, unease settling back in.

Mario has always had… questionable connections. The kind you and El never really asked about, choosing instead to ignore whatever didn’t fit into your version of him.

Mario slips back beside you like he never left, pressing a cold glass into your hand. “What’d I miss?” he asks, far too casually.

You turn to him immediately, irritation rising. “What the hell is this, Mario? What are we doing here—and how did you think this was a good idea?”

He exhales, already looking like he doesn’t want to deal with this conversation, but you don’t let up.

“Seriously. This place—this isn’t normal.”

El doesn’t even glance at him. Her attention is locked on the ring, eyes sharp with interest, like she’s already decided this is worth watching. You, on the other hand, can’t stop thinking about the cage, the crowd, the way everyone seemed to be waiting for something violent to happen.

“What is this place?” you ask again, quieter now, but no less firm.

Before he can answer, a sharp bell rings out, cutting through the noise and pulling every ounce of attention back to the ring.

The fight starts instantly. The other guy lunges first, throwing a punch that should land—but JK shifts just enough for it to miss, his movement so subtle it almost looks lazy. Another swing follows, then another, each one missing by inches as JK slips past them with controlled precision, like he’s already mapped out every move before it happens.

You don’t even realize your grip on the glass has tightened until your fingers start to ache. There’s something hypnotic about the way he moves—smooth, efficient, completely unbothered. He doesn’t rush or panic, doesn’t even try to overpower. He just watches, waits, and lets the other guy wear himself down.

For a moment, it almost feels intentional, like he’s letting him try.

Taunting him.

The thought settles just as the other man commits to another strike, stepping in harder this time, putting everything behind it—and that’s when JK finally moves forward. His fist connects cleanly, the impact sharp enough to echo even through the roar of the crowd, sending the man stumbling back until his body slams into the fence with a harsh metallic rattle.

The reaction around you is immediate and overwhelming, the crowd exploding with noise that makes your brows pull together as it crashes into you from all sides. But your focus stays on the ring, on the thin line of blood already slipping from the man’s nose, stark against his skin.

Your stomach twists, but not enough to make you look away.

Without thinking, you lift the drink Mario handed you and down it in one go, ignoring the burn, the taste, the suffocating thickness of the air. Your eyes stay locked on the fight, tracking every movement, every shift.

And somewhere in the middle of it, you realize your attention isn’t just caught—

it’s hooked.

The fight doesn’t slow down—it shifts entirely in JK’s favor.

Once the other man hits the ground, something in JK changes. Whatever restraint he had disappears as he follows him down without hesitation, delivering punch after punch with the same controlled force. Each hit lands with a dull, sickening impact, the sound carrying even through the roar of the crowd.

The man barely manages to get his arms up, but it doesn’t do much. Blood spreads quickly—across his face, down his chest, soaking into the already worn surface beneath him. Those faint stains you noticed earlier are no longer subtle. They’re fresh now, darker, undeniable.

JK’s gloves are black, thick. The color hides most of the blood, swallowing it instead of putting it on display, but not entirely. A darker sheen clings to them, catching under the harsh lights every time his fists rise and fall.

Your stomach tightens as the noise around you grows louder, more aggressive, feeding into every hit instead of pulling back from it. It starts to feel like too much—too close, too real, too far past the point where someone should have stepped in already.

“Mario,” you say, leaning toward him, your voice strained as you try to be heard over the chaos. “Is there—do they have a restroom or something?”

He doesn’t answer right away, his attention still fixed on the ring, jaw set like he’s invested in how this ends. For a second, you think he didn’t even hear you, but then he glances over, quick and distracted. “Yeah. Down the hall, to the left.”

You nod, already shifting your weight as you turn to El. “Come with me.”

She doesn’t move. She doesn’t even look at you. Her eyes stay locked on the ring, her expression sharper than before, completely absorbed in what’s happening. It catches you off guard, enough that you pause for a second, staring at her like you don’t quite recognize this version of her.

“Seriously?” you mutter under your breath, but she doesn’t react, and it leaves you standing there alone with the noise pressing back in.

Because the fight wasn’t bad at first—it was controlled, almost impressive in a way you didn’t expect—but this is different. This is something else entirely.

Your gaze drifts back to the ring despite yourself, catching the way the man on the ground jerks under another hit, a broken grunt slipping from him as he tries to move, to shield himself, to do anything at all. No one steps in. No one even looks like they’re thinking about it.

A cold thought settles in as you watch.

You hope this isn’t one of those fights—the kind that doesn’t end until someone doesn’t get back up—because the way that man looks right now, barely moving, barely holding on, makes it hard not to think he’s already getting close.

Before you can see anything else, you’ve had enough.

You don’t care how dodgy this place looks anymore—only that you need a second to breathe. The thought crosses your mind, sharp and unwelcome, that walking out alone probably isn’t the smartest idea. A single woman slipping away from a crowd like this doesn’t exactly scream safe. Still, you push it aside, stand up, and follow the direction Mario gave you.

The further you move from the ring, the more the place reveals itself—and none of it is reassuring. The air is thick with alcohol and weed, clinging to the walls, to your skin, to the back of your throat. The dim lighting doesn’t help, casting everything in a dull, grimy glow that makes even the hallway feel like somewhere you shouldn’t be.

You tug your dress down instinctively, suddenly too aware of how short it is, how out of place you feel. The red lipstick you put on earlier now seems like a mistake. If only you had known where you were coming.

The restroom is worse.

One look inside is enough. The smell hits first, then the stained tiles, the flickering light, the general state of neglect that makes your stomach turn. You don’t even consider using it. Instead, you step up to the sink, eyes lifting to the mirror.

You look… composed.

More than you expected, at least. Even with the frown that’s probably been stuck on your face since you walked in, you don’t look shaken. Not on the outside.

You turn on the tap, rinsing your hands out of habit more than anything, the faint taste of vodka still lingering on your tongue. Somewhere in the distance, even from down the hall, you can still hear it—the cheers, muffled but persistent, like a reminder that whatever is happening in that ring hasn’t slowed down.

You don’t want to be here.

But you also don’t want to be left out.

The thought pushes you into motion again. You dry your hands quickly and head back out, picking up your pace as you move down the hallway, unease settling deeper with every step. The walls are lined with old posters, most of them ripped or peeling, leaving behind only fragments—faces without names, events long gone, nothing fully readable.

It only adds to the feeling that you shouldn’t be here.

You’re halfway down when it happens.

You nearly stop in your tracks.

He’s there.

The man from the ring—the one who was just getting beaten—walking toward you like nothing happened. Up close, it’s worse. Blood still clings to him, smeared across his face and chest, his steps uneven, his body barely holding itself together.

And behind him—

The man with the microphone follows, saying something you can’t quite catch.

Your attention snaps forward again.

Because coming straight toward you—

JK.

He’s already out of the ring, moving fast, like the fight meant nothing. The gloves are gone, replaced by white wraps around his hands, slightly darkened in places. His hair sticks to his forehead, damp with sweat, his skin glistening under the dim lights as he closes the distance without slowing down.

For a second, you freeze.

Then instinct kicks in and you step aside quickly, pressing yourself against the wall just as he passes. He doesn’t even look at you. Doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t acknowledge you at all.

It’s like you’re not even there.

Like if you hadn’t moved—

He would’ve walked straight through you.

Your thoughts barely have time to settle before they’re cut off.

“El—?”

She rushes into view, nearly colliding with you, her expression completely different from the one she had just minutes ago. Whatever excitement she had is gone, replaced with something far more overwhelmed, almost frantic.

“I need the bathroom,” she blurts out, slightly breathless. “Like, right now. I had—shit—I had like three shots in five minutes.”

You blink at her, still catching up. “Where’s Mario?”

El glances back over her shoulder, like she expects him to magically appear behind her. “He said he needed to go too. Just disappeared into the crowd.”

You frown immediately.

Of course he did.

You bite back the first thing that comes to mind, irritation flaring as you glance past her, half-expecting to spot him somewhere down the hall. Nothing. Just the muffled noise from the main room and people moving around like nothing just happened.

Great.

You’ll definitely have to curse him out later—for leaving you alone earlier, even if the whole crowd had still been focused on the fight. At least then, everyone’s attention had been locked on the ring. Now? The fight is over, the tension is shifting, and you don’t even know how to guess who won.

Worse, El could’ve gotten lost in that mess.

Or someone could’ve—

You cut the thought off as your attention sharpens.

Because you can feel it now.

The looks.

They weren’t as obvious before, not when everyone had been too distracted, but now that the focus has broken, it’s different. There aren’t many women here—you’ve noticed that much—and the way some of the men look at you now makes your stomach twist. Lingering stares. Slow, knowing grins that feel far too comfortable.

You scoff under your breath, disgust curling in your chest as you turn back to El.

“The bathroom’s a nightmare,” you warn her. “Like, seriously not usable.”

El groans, clutching her stomach slightly. “I don’t care. My bladder is about to explode.”

Yeah. No arguing with that.

You nod, stepping aside to let her move past you. “Fine. Go. I’ll stay right outside.”

She doesn’t hesitate, already pushing the door open.

You stay put in the hallway, crossing your arms loosely as you position yourself near the wall, trying to look like you belong there more than you feel like you do. The noise from the main room is still there, dulled now, but enough to remind you you’re not completely alone.

Still—

You really hope no one tries to talk to you.

You don’t have to wait long before something shifts again.

Footsteps echo down the hall, heavier this time, more purposeful. A guy comes into view—blonde, maybe mid-twenties, wearing an oversized shirt that hangs loose over a pair of worn jeans. There’s nothing particularly threatening about him at first glance, but the way he carries himself makes people move.

“Get lost,” he says, voice flat, like he’s said it a hundred times before.

The men lingering too close—too interested—pause. You hadn’t even fully clocked how near they were getting until now. One of them mutters something under his breath, low and irritated, but before anything can escalate, a woman slips up beside them. She leans in, whispers something quick into one of their ears.

The reaction is immediate.

Their expressions shift, something greedy lighting up in their eyes, and just like that, they back off, leaving without another glance.

You feel your stomach turn.

Disgust settles in deep as you press your lips together, forcing yourself not to react more visibly. Whatever she said—it worked too easily.

You take a few steps further down the hall, needing the distance, the space. Behind you, the noise from the main room is starting to die down, the chaos thinning out into something more controlled. It sounds like they’re clearing people out, or at least resetting the space for whatever comes next.

That thought alone makes your skin crawl.

Ahead of you, the blonde guy reaches a door—one you hadn’t paid much attention to before—and pushes it open without hesitation.

And for a split second, you see inside.

It’s a medium-sized room, dim but cleaner than the rest of this place, like it serves a different purpose. Your brain barely has time to process the layout before something—someone—snags your attention completely.

Mario.

Standing there like he belongs.

Your breath catches, surprise hitting first, sharp and immediate. So much for the bathroom. He didn’t even come this way—the toilets are further down, you know that now.

But the shock doesn’t stop there.

Because sitting in one of the chairs—

JK.

Up close, under better light, he looks just as composed as he did in the ring, even now. Someone—a young guy, too young if you’re being honest—is crouched in front of him, carefully unwrapping the white tape from his hands. The fabric is stained in places, and as it comes loose, you catch glimpses of reddened skin underneath.

The kid works quickly, like he knows what he’s doing, like this is routine.

Of course it is.

Nothing about this place is legal. Nothing about it is normal.

Your eyes flick back to Mario, disbelief settling in heavier now. He lied. Not even well—just enough to get away from you and El without questions.

Before you can take in anything else, the door swings shut.

You’re left staring at it, mouth slightly open, like your brain hasn’t caught up to what you just saw.

Mario. In there. With him.

“El?”

She comes back a second later, pushing the bathroom door open with a relieved sigh. “Ready?”

You turn to her, still half-stunned. “I—there’s a room down here. Mario’s in it. And… the guy who was in the ring is in there too.”

El freezes. “What?”

“And some kid—like, actually a kid—is cleaning him up. I don’t even—” You shake your head, trying to piece it together. “This is weird.”

El blinks a few times, processing, then shrugs slightly. “Maybe Mario just knows people here?”

You stare at her. “That doesn’t make it less weird.”

She hesitates, glancing between you and the closed door. “So… what are we doing? Waiting?”

You frown, something in you snapping into place. You’re done waiting. Done being brushed off, lied to, dragged somewhere without knowing why.

Without another word, you step forward and push the door open.

The reaction is immediate.

Conversation cuts off mid-sentence. Every head in the room turns toward you, like you just walked into something you weren’t supposed to see.

Mario looks the worst out of all of them—caught, completely unprepared. His mouth opens like he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out.

Your gaze shifts past him.

JK is still sitting, his hands half-unwrapped, the young guy working on them pausing mid-motion. For a second, he doesn’t even acknowledge you. His eyes stay lowered, focused on his hands—

Then he looks up.

Your eyes meet, just briefly. Long enough for something to register—sharp, assessing. His gaze drags over you, slow and deliberate, before his expression tightens slightly, like he’s already decided you don’t belong here.

“And what are you doing here?” the blonde man asks, voice flat, almost tired, like this is an inconvenience.

El hovers just behind your shoulder, peeking in, her eyes going wide the second they land on JK. “Fuck,” she whispers, not nearly as quiet as she probably thinks.

You don’t react to her.

Your attention is locked on Mario now. “I should be asking you that.”

He winces slightly, like he expected that, but still doesn’t have a good answer.

The men in the room don’t miss the tension, the way your eyes narrow, the way Mario shifts under it. Something clicks between them, unspoken.

The blonde man exhales sharply, already over it. “Listen, you have no place being here.” His gaze flicks to Mario. “Take your bitches out of here.”

“Excuse me?” you scoff immediately, offense flaring hot and fast. The word hits wrong—too casual, too familiar, like it’s something he says often.

He doesn’t even react. If anything, he looks bored, like he’s seen this exact reaction a hundred times before.

Maybe he has.

“Look, just—give us a minute,” Mario cuts in quickly, stepping forward like he’s trying to manage damage control. “I’ll come out and explain, okay?”

“And wait out there? With all the junkies?” you shoot back, anger creeping in sharper now. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

Your patience is gone.

Before Mario can respond, movement pulls your attention again.

JK stands.

The shift in the room is subtle, but it’s there. He rolls his shoulders once, flexing his hands slightly as the young guy quickly gathers the bloodied wraps and cotton, tossing them aside.

“Take this outside,” JK says, voice low and steady, carrying easily through the room.

It’s not loud, but it doesn’t need to be. It lands heavy anyway.

He doesn’t look at anyone again.

Just walks past, disappearing through another door without a second thought.

Silence lingers for a second after he’s gone.

Then the blonde man steps forward slightly, already done with this entire situation. “I’ll be in touch,” he says curtly, though it’s clearly meant for Mario. His gaze flicks back to you and El, sharp, unimpressed. “Out.”

He gestures toward the door, not even pretending to be polite about it.

It’s not an offer.

It’s an order.

You let out a sharp scoff, already drawing breath to snap back at the blonde man—because who the hell does he think he is—but El is faster. Her hand wraps around your wrist, fingers tightening in warning, and at the same time Mario steps in, grabbing your shoulders and steering you back.

“Hey—” you start, but he’s already pushing you out.

The door shuts behind you with a dull thud.

You turn on him immediately.

“What the actual fuck, Mario?”

He exhales, dragging a hand over his face. “Not here.”

“Oh, not—” you scoff, ready to go off, but he’s already moving, heading down the hall like he expects you to follow.

You do. Of course you do.

El stays close, unusually quiet now, her earlier excitement completely gone. The hallway feels different on the way back—emptier, colder somehow. By the time you reach the main area, it’s almost unrecognizable. The crowd is gone, replaced by only a few people cleaning up like nothing ever happened. Trash is being swept, bottles collected, and in one corner, you catch a glimpse of a stack of cash being counted and shoved into a duffle bag.

That’s enough.

You don’t say anything as you follow Mario out, but the second the cold air hits your skin, it’s like everything snaps back into focus. You step forward quickly, grabbing his forearm and forcing him to stop.

“Speak,” you demand.

He looks at you—not angry, not defensive. Just… tired. Defeated, almost.

“Not here, please,” he says quietly. “Let’s just go back to my place.”

Your eyes narrow immediately. The way he glances around, quick and subtle, doesn’t help.

Alarms go off in your head.

You don’t agree, not really—but you don’t argue either. Not yet.

The car ride is silent. Tense. The kind of silence that presses in on you, heavy with everything that hasn’t been said. El sits beside you, staring out the window, unusually still, like she’s replaying everything in her head. You don’t interrupt. You’re doing the same.

By the time you reach Mario’s building, the quiet hasn’t lifted.

It follows you all the way into his apartment.

The door closes behind you, and just like that, the outside world is gone—but the tension stays, thick in the air, waiting.

Mario moves first, like he needs something to do with his hands. “Tea? Or—something?” he offers, already heading toward the kitchen.

Anything to stall.

You don’t answer right away. You just watch him, arms crossed, expression unmoving. Eventually, you nod once, more out of impatience than acceptance, and take a seat on the couch beside El. She sinks into it quietly, still not saying much, her usual energy replaced with something more withdrawn.

Mario brings the cups over a few minutes later, setting them down carefully in front of you both. You don’t thank him. You don’t even look at the tea.

You just look at him.

He takes the chair opposite you, exhaling slowly before running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think it would escalate like that.”

You cut him off immediately. “What did you think, Mario? That we’d just be okay watching that?” Your voice sharpens. “Did you genuinely think we’d enjoy an illegal fight?”

He blinks, caught off guard for a second. “How do you even know it’s illegal?”

You stare at him, almost incredulous. “Are you serious? Nothing about that place screams legal.”

He doesn’t argue.

So you keep going.

“I thought we were going to a club,” you say, your frustration spilling over now. “And then you change plans last minute, and suddenly we’re standing next to a cage, watching a guy get nearly beaten to death?”

The words hang heavy between you.

Mario exhales again, slower this time, and there’s something in his expression that finally cracks—guilt, maybe. Regret.

“I’m sorry,” he says, quieter now. “I really am. I just… I had to deal with something, and one of my friends was there. I thought it’d just be a fight. I thought you two might—” he hesitates, then shrugs weakly, “—I don’t know. Enjoy it. You like boxing, right?”

That lands badly.

Because whatever that was—wasn’t just boxing.

You lean back slightly, exhaling through your nose, but the tension doesn’t leave your body. If anything, it settles deeper.

“Why do you even hang around people like that?” you ask, your tone quieter now but no less pointed.

Mario winces a little at that, like he expected it. “I’m sorry,” he says again, rubbing the back of his neck. “I really am. I won’t bring you there again. Hell, I probably won’t even go back myself. It was a stupid idea.”

You study him for a second, trying to decide if you believe that.

Then you sigh, some of the edge in you softening, just a little. “I didn’t feel safe there,” you admit. “And it’s a good thing nothing happened to us.”

Your fingers curl slightly around the warm cup, grounding yourself before you add, “What even is that place?”

Mario hesitates, like he’s choosing how honest to be. “It’s… yeah, it’s illegal,” he finally says. “But it’s one of the fastest ways to make money. People go there to bet. Not just that—they go because they like the fights. They want to see something real.”

You let out a quiet scoff. “We clearly have very different ideas of what a good fight is.”

He nods, accepting that. “Listen—it’s usually not like that. It gets stopped before it goes too far. Yeah, some guys don’t look great after, but tonight… tonight was intense. I didn’t know JK was gonna be the one fighting. Usually it’s more… controlled.”

You blink at him, stunned. “Oh my god. How many times have you been there?”

“Not that many,” he says quickly, holding up a hand. “Seriously. But I know it’s not usually like this. There had to be a change of plans when JK showed up. That’s why it was so packed. I should’ve known. I should’ve just left with you the second I realized.”

You shake your head slightly, still trying to process. “Who even is he?”

Mario shrugs. “Just a guy that got popular there. He fights well—really well—and people like watching him. That’s why it gets so crowded when he’s around.”

Your stomach turns at that. “People enjoy watching him beat someone nearly to death?”

“There’s a lot of money involved,” Mario replies, his tone quieter now. “And for some of those guys… it’s easier to earn money that way. One good fight can get you more than a regular job.”

You frown, not convinced. “I don’t get it. I mean, boxing isn’t a bad thing—but when it’s legal. What we saw? There’s a reason that’s not allowed.”

Mario exhales, leaning back in his chair. “The world’s a lot rougher than you think. That place—it’s just one of those corners where people make money however they can.”

You don’t respond to that. Not really.

Instead, you shift your focus, needing something else. “Did you at least deal with your friend? The one you said you had to meet?”

“Yeah,” he nods quickly. “Yeah, that’s done.” He pauses, then adds again, “And I’m sorry. Really. I won’t drag you into something like that again.”

You study him for a moment, then let out a small breath, deciding not to push it further. “Let’s just… hope we’ll laugh about this in twenty years.”

El makes a small sound beside you—half a scoff, half a sip of her tea—and you glance at her.

“Why are you so quiet?” you ask.

She shrugs, staring into her cup for a second before looking up. “I mean… yeah, it was weird. And I definitely wouldn’t go there alone.” She pauses, then adds, almost reluctantly, “But it was kind of interesting to see.”

You drop your head back slightly. “Oh my god.”

El rolls her eyes, but there’s a faint smile there now. “I’m not saying I want to go back. I don’t. I’d rather we stay far away from that place.” She nudges your arm lightly. “Next time, though? We’re going to an actual club. A good one. We finally convince you to go out, and this is where we end up?”

You huff out a laugh despite yourself, some of the tension finally easing. “Fine. You pick the next place, and I’ll consider going.”

“That’s a yes,” she says immediately.

“It’s a maybe,” you correct, but you’re smiling now.

The night winds down after that, the heaviness of it lingering but not as sharp. You stay over at Mario’s place like usual—nothing new there. You and El take the bed, while he crashes on the couch without complaint.

It should feel normal.

Familiar.

But as you lie there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, sleep doesn’t come easily.

Because every time you close your eyes, you see it again.

The ring. The blood. The crowd.

And him.

Those dark, steady eyes that barely looked at you—yet somehow linger anyway, slipping into your dreams as the night stretches on, replaying everything like a broken movie you can’t quite turn off.

Life moves on.

Or at least, it pretends to.

In the days after that night, everything slowly slips back into place. You fall into your usual routine—meeting El for junk food runs, sitting in dimly lit bars, catching up on the kind of small, meaningless things that make life feel normal again. Work, gossip, random complaints. The kind of conversations that don’t carry weight.

And for a while, neither does that night.

It starts to feel distant. Unreal, even. Like something you watched in a movie rather than something you actually stood in the middle of. You avoid that part of town completely, not even entertaining the idea of going near it. The building, the people, the noise—it all becomes something you push to the back of your mind.

Still, sometimes it creeps in.

A thought here and there. A question you don’t really want answered. How many people got hurt that night? How often does that happen?

You learn not to follow those thoughts too far.

The first week is the worst. Your dreams are restless, filled with flashes of the ring, the sound of fists hitting skin, the roar of the crowd. It’s like your brain is trying to process something it only ever expected to see on a screen, not up close, not real.

But after a couple of weeks, even that fades.

It becomes just a faint memory.

Something that happened.

Something you don’t talk about.

Life moves on. Or at least, it tries to.

In the days after that night, everything slowly slips back into place. You fall into your usual routine—meeting El for junk food runs, sitting in dimly lit bars, catching up on the kind of small, meaningless things that make life feel normal again. Work, gossip, random complaints. The kind of conversations that don’t carry weight.

And for a while, neither does that night.

It starts to feel distant. Unreal, even. Like something you watched in a movie rather than something you actually stood in the middle of. You avoid that part of town completely, not even entertaining the idea of going near it. The building, the people, the noise—it all becomes something you push to the back of your mind.

Still, sometimes it creeps in. A thought here and there. A question you don’t really want answered. How many people got hurt that night? How often does that happen?

You learn not to follow those thoughts too far.

The first week is the worst. Your dreams are restless, filled with flashes of the ring, the sound of fists hitting skin, the roar of the crowd. It’s like your brain is trying to process something it only ever expected to see on a screen, not up close, not real.

But after a couple of weeks, even that fades.

It becomes just a faint memory. Something that happened. Something you don’t talk about.

Lately, you’ve been seeing El more often. Mario’s been busy, which isn’t unusual. He’s always had something going on, mostly revolving around cars. Buying them, fixing them, flipping them. Old ones, newer ones—it doesn’t really matter. He calls it an investment, says the money always comes back if you know what you’re doing.

And apparently, he does.

Between the cars and whatever connections he’s built over time, he’s become the guy people call when something breaks. You’ve done it yourself. The last time your car had an issue, he fixed it in a day and saved you from dealing with overpriced repair shops and all their nonsense. He’s reliable like that.

Just not always honest.

Tonight, it’s just you and El at one of your usual bars, tucked into a booth that’s a little too worn but familiar enough to feel comfortable. You didn’t feel like drinking, so you’ve been sticking to soda while she’s had a couple of shots.

It reminds you of a phase you’ve already gone through—back when you were younger, figuring out your limits. These days, you don’t really care for it.

El, though, seems off.

At first, you assume it’s her ex. She spent way too long getting over him, and for a moment you wonder if she slipped back into that. But then she checks her phone again. And again. And again.

You watch her for a while before finally speaking up. “Okay, something’s up.”

She barely looks at you. “Nothing’s up.”

“You’ve checked your phone like ten times in five minutes.”

“I’m just waiting for a message.”

“From who?”

She shrugs too quickly. “No one important.”

You don’t buy it, but you don’t push right away. The feeling lingers, though, settling in your chest.

Something’s not right.

By the time the waitress tells you they’re closing, it’s already close to ten. You both gather your things and step outside, the cooler air a relief after the stuffy bar. You start telling her something about work—some pointless drama—but she barely reacts, her attention drifting back to her phone.

Then she checks it again.

You stop mid-sentence and look at her. “Okay, you have one minute. Tell me what’s going on, or I’m dropping you off and going home.”

She laughs nervously, scratching her cheek. “Don’t be mad.”

You roll your eyes. “Just say it.”

“I know where Mario is.”

You blink. “Okay? He’s probably working.”

She exhales, muttering, “He’s gonna kill me for this.”

“El.”

“Okay—he went back there.”

You frown. “Back where?”

Her voice lowers. “The ring.”

You stare at her, still trying to process it, the memory of that place snapping back into focus like it never really left.

“What do you mean, the ring?”

“He’s there. Right now.”

You let out a slow breath, disbelief settling in. Of course he is. After everything he said. After promising he wouldn’t go back.

“Unbelievable.”

El shifts slightly, her grip tightening around her phone. “The thing is… he was supposed to text me. And he hasn’t. It’s been, like, four hours.” She glances at the screen again, like it might suddenly light up. “He promised he would.”

You frown. “Wait—did you know he was going there?”

She hesitates, then nods, a little ashamed. “Yeah. He told me.” She quickly adds, “And he made me promise not to tell you.”

You scoff. “Of course he did. He didn’t want to hear my ‘smart remarks’ again. He probably thinks I’m his mom at this point, pestering him.”

“That’s not it,” El says, shaking her head. “He knows you worry about him. We both do. And honestly? You have a reason to.” She exhales, then continues, “I only agreed because he said he’d text me the whole time. Just so I’d know he’s okay.”

You cross your arms. “And?”

“The last message I got was around seven,” she says, her voice tightening. “He said he was going in.”

You glance at the time. It’s way past that now.

“What was he even doing there?” you ask.

El shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know. He just said he had some business to take care of. That it’d be quick.” She lets out a quiet, uneasy breath. “Clearly it’s not.”

Silence settles between you for a moment, heavier this time.

“I don’t want to panic,” she adds, her voice quieter now, “but after what we saw there… the kind of people that were around…” She swallows. “I’m scared something happened to him.”

That lands.

Because yeah—Mario’s not small. He’s got height, some lean muscle, enough to handle himself in most situations.

But that place?

That’s not most situations.

He’s still your friend.

And something about all of this doesn’t sit right.

El looks at you, worry written all over her face. “What are we gonna do?”

You sigh, already knowing the answer.

“What else?” you mutter. “We have to go back and find him.”

Her expression tightens. “What if he’s not there?”

“Then we hope he made it there and someone saw him,” you reply, already turning and heading toward your car. “And we figure it out from there.”

You don’t give yourself time to second-guess it.

El hurries after you, sliding into the passenger seat as you start the engine. For a brief second, you just sit there, hands gripping the wheel a little tighter than usual.

You had hoped you’d never go back.

But just like that—that hope is gone.

You park a little further down the street, not wanting to pull up right in front like last time. The engine dies, and for a moment neither of you moves. The place hasn’t changed at all. The street still feels wrong—too quiet, too empty, like it’s been deliberately erased from everything around it. You glance at El, and she looks just as uneasy as you feel.

“Let’s go,” you mutter, pushing the door open.

You both walk toward the entrance, slower this time, more cautious. When you reach the door, El tries to push it open, but it doesn’t budge. Locked. She turns to you, brows knitting together. “What now?”

Before you can answer, the door creaks open from the inside. The same bouncer steps into view, and for a second you don’t recognize him. Then it clicks—the same sharp, heavy-lidded eyes, the same detached, almost stoned expression. It feels like no time has passed. His gaze drags over both of you, slow and deliberate, lingering a little too long on your bare legs, and you instantly regret dressing up for the bar tonight.

“You’re late,” he says, voice rough. “Let people in an hour ago.”

You don’t bother arguing. You reach into your purse, pull out a bill, and press it against his chest. He catches it easily, glancing down before tucking it away. A smirk pulls at his mouth. “Would’ve preferred you in my arms,” he mutters. You grimace, not even hiding your disgust this time, while El’s grip tightens around your hand as the door opens wider and you both slip inside.

The moment you step down the stairs, the noise hits—loud, heavy, suffocating. The smell follows right after. Sweat, weed, alcohol. It’s exactly how you remember it, maybe worse. The main area is completely packed, even more than last time, bodies pressed together so tightly it feels impossible to move. You barely even glance toward the ring. That’s not why you’re here.

“Room,” you remind El, leaning closer so she can hear you.

She nods quickly, already following your lead as you both start pushing through the crowd, weaving between people with purpose. You keep your focus forward, mentally retracing the path from last time. The stairs. The hallway. That door. That’s where you last saw Mario, and right now, that’s the only place that matters.

“El—this way,” you say, tugging her slightly as you manage to break away from the tightest part of the crowd and angle toward the stairs. There are still people gathered there, but it’s easier to move, easier to breathe. “We check the room first. If he’s not there, we’ll figure something else out.”

The microphone cuts in, sharp and loud, but you don’t stop. The announcer’s voice blends into the background as you keep moving, slipping past another group, already stepping toward the hallway. You’re close now, close enough that you can almost see the door in your mind.

“…and tonight,” the voice drawls.

You ignore it.

“First time in the ring—”

Still moving.

“—and bold enough to throw down a challenge—”

You’re already turning, already heading for the hallway.

“—challenging JK himself—”

The crowd reacts loudly, but it barely registers. You’re focused on getting there, on finding him before anything else can go wrong.

“And let’s hear it for—”

You don’t slow down.

“Maaaario.”

El stops so abruptly it almost throws you into her back, your steps catching at the last second as the name echoes through the space. For a moment it doesn’t register—not fully. It stretches out in the air, swallowed and amplified by the crowd’s reaction, like your brain refuses to connect it to anything real.

Then it hits.

Your body goes still as your mind catches up, the realization crashing in all at once. Around you, the crowd erupts, louder than before, excitement surging like this is exactly what they came for. El doesn’t move in front of you, her posture rigid, and your hand tightens slightly where you’re still holding onto her.

Neither of you says anything.

Because you both heard it.

And suddenly, finding Mario doesn’t feel like a question anymore.

It feels like a problem.

The countdown starts somewhere above the noise, the announcer stretching each number out like he’s feeding the crowd. It barely registers at first, your mind still stuck on the name you just heard, but then the final number hits and everything erupts at once. Before you can even think, the fight begins.

You and El move at the same time without saying a word. There’s no hesitation now, just urgency as you push into the crowd, forcing your way through bodies that don’t want to move. Shoulders slam into you, someone curses, another shoves you aside, but no one really stops you. They’re too focused on the ring, too caught up in the fight to care about anything else. The noise is overwhelming—yells, cheers, fists hitting metal—and it makes your chest tighten because you can’t see anything. Not knowing what’s happening somehow feels worse than seeing it.

El takes the lead, using her strength to pry a path open, her grip tight around your wrist as she drags you forward. You stumble after her, trying to keep up as she forces space where there isn’t any. It feels endless, like you’re stuck in a wall of bodies that won’t break, but eventually it does. You reach the ring, not close enough to touch it comfortably, but close enough to see.

And what you see makes your breath catch.

Mario is on the ground, one hand pressed to his face as blood spills from his nose. He looks disoriented, struggling to steady himself, and for a second it doesn’t even register as a fight. It looks like damage, like something that’s already gone too far. Your fingers slip through the fence without you thinking, gripping the cold metal as your eyes dart to his opponent.

JK is circling him.

Not rushing, not pressing—just waiting. There’s something unsettling about the way he moves, controlled and calm, like he already knows exactly how this ends. He lets Mario struggle, lets him try to get up, almost like he’s giving him space on purpose. Like he’s drawing it out.

Your stomach twists as you try to make sense of it. Can’t he just stop it? Can Mario tap out? Are there even rules here?

You don’t know.

“Oh my god,” El whispers beside you, her voice tight with fear.

“Come on,” you say under your breath, gripping the fence harder. “Get up. Get up.”

There’s no way he can hear you through the chaos, and yet somehow he moves. Mario pushes himself up, unsteady, barely holding his balance as he spits blood onto the ground. The sight makes your stomach churn, but he lifts his hands again, trying to reset, trying to fight.

He throws the first punch, driven more by instinct than skill. It’s messy, desperate, lacking control, but it’s something. JK avoids it easily, shifting just enough for it to miss. Another swing follows, then another, each one missing by inches as JK moves around him like it’s nothing. There’s no panic in him, no rush. Just patience.

Then he strikes.

It’s quick. Sharp. Clean.

The first hit snaps Mario’s head to the side, the second lands before he can recover, and the third sends him stumbling backward. JK doesn’t overextend, doesn’t waste movement—every punch is calculated, deliberate, landing exactly where it needs to. Mario tries to hold his ground, but it’s obvious now. He’s outmatched.

One more hit lands, harder than the rest, and it drops him.

You gasp, the sound tearing out of you before you can stop it as Mario hits the ground again. His face is already swelling, one eye starting to close, blood spreading across his skin in a way that makes your chest tighten painfully.

“Mario!” you shout, panic rising fast. “Get up!”

El is yelling too now, her voice breaking as she calls his name, the two of you pressed against the fence, desperate, urging him to move, to stay conscious, to do anything. The fear settles deep in your chest because what if he doesn’t get up this time? What if this doesn’t stop?

Mario shifts slightly, barely lifting his head, and then his gaze turns. Not toward JK, not toward the crowd—but toward you.

People cheer.

The sight of his face makes something in you twist. Swollen, bloodied, barely recognizable, and still he finds you in the chaos. Your breath hitches as you realize he sees you here.

JK notices.

It’s subtle at first, just a shift in his focus, the way his eyes narrow as he follows Mario’s line of sight. And then he looks at you. Really looks, his gaze locking onto yours in a way that feels too direct, too aware.

For a second, everything feels still.

Then he moves.

He crouches beside Mario, and your stomach drops as his hand shoots out, fingers tangling into Mario’s hair. The grip is tight, controlling, forcing his head up despite the lack of resistance. Mario barely reacts, his body too weak to fight back, and panic spikes in your chest.

JK doesn’t look away from you. His dark hair sticks to his forehead, damp with sweat, his skin barely marked compared to Mario’s. Like this fight hasn’t cost him anything.

And then he smirks.

Your chest tightens as his grip tightens with it, lifting Mario’s head just enough—

Before slamming it back down against the ground.

The sound is sickening.

It cuts through everything.

Mario goes limp.

And for a second, you don’t breathe, don’t move, don’t think. You just stare, because something in you knows that whatever line there was before, it’s gone now.

The sound crashes back all at once, loud and overwhelming, like nothing just happened. Like what you just saw is entertainment, nothing more. JK steps back, the win clearly his, and the fence is already being opened for him as if it was expected. Of course it was. He walks out without a glance back, already moving on while the crowd feeds off the aftermath.

You don’t.

You can’t.

Two men enter the ring almost immediately, grabbing Mario under his arms and hauling him up. His body hangs between them, limp, unresponsive, his head lolling slightly with the movement. The sight knocks the air out of your lungs.

You force yourself to move.

Your throat tightens as you swallow hard, shaking yourself out of the daze as you grab El’s arm. “Come on,” you manage, your voice barely steady, your eyes locked on Mario as they carry him away.

You follow them.

They move fast, cutting through a path that clears easier for them than it ever did for you. When you and El catch up, one of the men glances back, clearly annoyed, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes you in. El’s panicked whispers don’t help.

“Oh my god… Mario, we’re here. You’re gonna be okay—”

“Hey,” one of the men snaps. “You can’t—”

“He’s our friend,” you cut in quickly, your voice sharper than you expect. “We’re staying. Where are you taking him?”

They don’t look like they want to deal with you. Not now. Not with this. The two of them exchange a look, something silent passing between them before one sighs, clearly deciding it’s not worth the argument.

“He’s getting treated,” he says shortly, already turning away.

You don’t ask by whom. You just follow.

The hallway feels tighter this time, the noise from the main area fading behind you as they lead you into one of the rooms. It’s smaller than you expected, cramped and worn, with dented lockers lining one wall and a narrow bed in the center that looks like it once belonged in a hospital.

They set Mario down without much care. His body barely reacts, his head rolling slightly to the side, and something in your chest twists painfully at how still he is.

You and El move immediately, stopping just short of touching him, both of you hovering, afraid of making it worse.

The door opens again.

A young man steps in, probably in his early twenties, maybe a bit older, his build lean but steady. He’s dressed simply—dark shirt, sleeves pushed up to his elbows—and there’s a certain efficiency in the way he moves, like he’s done this too many times to think about it. His hair is slightly messy, falling into his eyes as he pulls on a pair of gloves, his expression focused rather than concerned.

“What do we have this time?” he asks, glancing over Mario with quick, practiced eyes.

“Probably a broken nose. Maybe more,” one of the men replies.

The young man exhales quietly, stepping closer to the bed as he tilts Mario’s head slightly, inspecting the damage without hesitation. “Yeah,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Another one who thought he could last longer than he actually could.”

Mario gets treated like you and El aren’t even there.

The young man moves around him with quiet efficiency, cleaning the blood, checking his nose, pressing gauze where it’s needed. The two men who carried him in linger for a moment before stepping aside, talking in low voices, completely unfazed. It’s like this is routine. Like people getting carried in half-conscious isn’t anything out of the ordinary.

You can’t stand still.

You start pacing the small room, your steps short and sharp, your arms crossed tight over your chest as your thoughts spiral. No matter how hard you try to focus on Mario, your mind keeps dragging you back to the ring—to that moment. The way JK looked at you. The way he made sure you saw it. That last hit.

The way Mario just… stopped.

Your jaw tightens.

Even when Mario lets out a low groan, shifting slightly on the bed, it doesn’t pull you out of it. El is at his side immediately, her voice soft but urgent as she leans closer. “Mario? Hey—can you hear me?” He mumbles something incoherent, his words slurred, barely forming, and El glances up, worry etched all over her face. “Doesn’t he need a hospital?”

The young man doesn’t even look up from what he’s doing. “If he goes to a hospital, questions get asked,” he says flatly. “Police get involved.”

“Maybe they should,” you cut in sharply, stopping your pacing to look at him. “Maybe that would finally shut this place down.”

That gets his attention.

He shoots you a look, sharp and unimpressed. “Hate to break it to you,” he says, tone edged with something colder now, “but your friend would be the one in trouble. This is illegal. He signed up for it.”

You don’t care.

You don’t care what he says, what excuses they have, what twisted logic they follow in this place.

Your anger is already too far gone.

“Where is he?” you ask suddenly.

The room stills for a second.

“Who?” one of the men asks.

You look at him like it should be obvious. “JK.”

They exchange a glance, something unreadable passing between them. “Why?” the other one mutters.

You don’t answer that.

You just look at El. “Stay here. Keep an eye on him.”

She blinks at you, clearly trying to figure out what you’re about to do. “Wait—”

But you’re already moving.

You leave before she can stop you, before anyone can question you further, your steps quick and determined as you head back down the hall. You don’t even know if he’s still there, if he went back to that room or somewhere else entirely, but you don’t stop to think about it.

You’re too angry to think.

You reach the door and push it open hard.

Empty.

The room looks exactly the same as before—the couch, the chair, the faint trace of something cleaner in the air compared to the rest of the place—but he’s not there. You step further in, scanning it anyway, like he might suddenly appear.

“Where the hell—”

The door opens behind you and you turn immediately.

JK stands there.

He doesn’t look surprised to see someone in the room. If anything, he looks mildly annoyed, like you’re an inconvenience he didn’t feel like dealing with tonight. His hair is wet, strands sticking to his forehead, steam still curling faintly from the doorway behind him—bathroom, you realize. He’s changed, now wearing a pair of dark cotton shorts, a towel in his hands that he uses once before tossing it aside onto the couch like it doesn’t matter.

Like nothing matters.

He doesn’t even acknowledge you.

That’s what sets you off.

Before you can think, you’re already moving toward him, anger taking over completely as you shove both hands against his chest. The contact is solid—his skin still warm from the shower, heat lingering under your palms, his muscles hard and unyielding beneath your push. It’s like trying to move a wall.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you snap, your voice sharp with fury. “You could’ve killed him!”

He barely moves.

Just stands there, looking down at you as if you’re something mildly irritating, one brow lifting slightly as your hair falls out of place from the force of your movement.

“You done?” he asks.

The words hit harder than they should.

You freeze for half a second, caught off guard—not just by how close he is, not just by hearing his voice directed at you for the first time, but by how little he seems to care.

“Not entirely,” you snap back, your anger flaring again as you move to shove him once more.

This time, he catches your wrist.

Effortlessly.

His grip is firm, stopping you mid-motion like it’s nothing, like you weren’t even a challenge to begin with.

“You’re a piece of shit,” you tell him, your voice tight.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, slow and unimpressed. “And yet,” he replies coolly, tilting his head slightly as his grip doesn’t loosen, “your friend stepped into the ring with me anyway.”

“Let me go,” you snap, yanking against him.

For a second, he just watches you, completely unimpressed, like this is nothing new to him.

Then he lets go.

Abruptly.

You stumble back a step as he pushes you away, not rough enough to hurt, but enough to put distance between you, like he’s brushing something off.

“Careful,” he says, voice low, almost amused, “you’re gonna hurt yourself before you even get close to hurting me.”

The arrogance in his tone only makes your blood boil more.

“You’re an arrogant prick,” you snap without hesitation, your voice sharp enough to cut through whatever calm he’s pretending to have. “Do you feel good about it? Almost killing people for a bunch of money?”

Something shifts.

It’s subtle, but it’s there. The smirk fades just enough, his eyes darkening as he looks at you, really looks this time.

“Out,” he says.

You don’t move. You don’t even consider it.

“You’re in no position to tell me what to do,” you fire back immediately. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His jaw tightens slightly, but he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t explain. Doesn’t justify himself.

That only makes it worse.

You step closer again, closing the distance, your finger lifting as you point it toward his chest. “You don’t get to act like this is normal. Like you’re not the problem here.”

His hand moves before you can react.

Fast.

Your wrist is caught again, but this time there’s no patience behind it. No casual ease. Just control.

“You’re pushing it,” he says, voice low, edged with warning.

“Good,” you snap, trying to yank your hand free. “Maybe someone should—”

He doesn’t let you finish.

In one swift movement, he turns you, your back hitting the wall with a dull thud before you can process what just happened. Your breath catches as he pins your arms behind you, one hand locking both of your wrists in place, the other braced near your shoulder, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

The shift is instant.

You’re not in control anymore.

Your heart jumps, adrenaline spiking as you struggle against his hold, but it’s useless. He’s stronger, faster, and far too used to this kind of contact.

He leans in slightly, just enough for you to feel the heat still radiating off his skin.

“You talk a lot,” he mutters, his grip tightening just enough to keep you from trying anything else, “for someone who has no idea what she just walked into.”

His hand still holds your wrists behind your back, and now his other arm shifts slightly, boxing you in. The heat from his body hasn’t faded yet, his skin still warm under the dim light, his breath just brushing near your ear without quite touching.

Your pulse spikes despite yourself.

“Yeah?” you manage, your voice tighter than you’d like. “What did I walk into?”

There’s a beat.

Short.

Deliberate.

Then—

“A place you don’t belong,” he says quietly, voice low and steady, right by your ear.

No hesitation. No explanation.

Just fact.

His grip tightens slightly, not enough to hurt—just enough to remind you he’s still in control.

“And a fight you can’t win.”

He lets go of you.

The shift is sudden enough that you almost stumble forward before catching yourself. You turn on him immediately, your chest rising and falling too fast, your pulse still racing from the proximity, from the grip, from everything. For a second, you just stare at him, trying to steady yourself, trying to hold onto the anger that brought you here in the first place.

“Leave,” he says.

Just like that. Flat. Dismissive.

You blink at him, still catching your breath. You don’t even know what you expected coming here—an apology, a reaction, something—but all you got was this. Him. Unbothered. Untouched. Like what happened in that ring meant nothing.

You open your mouth, but before you can say anything—

The door swings open.

A blonde woman steps in, her energy shifting the moment she notices you. The grin she walked in with disappears almost instantly, her eyes flicking between you and him, lingering a second too long on the fact that he’s still shirtless.

The air changes.

“Who’s this?” she asks, her tone edged, curious but already leaning toward annoyed.

Jungkook doesn’t rush to answer. He doesn’t even look at her right away. Instead, he grabs an oversized shirt, pulling it over his head like this conversation doesn’t concern him in the slightest.

“She’s leaving,” he says, like that’s enough.

You let out a sharp scoff. “The hell I am.”

That gets a reaction. Not from her.

From him.

It’s subtle—just the corner of his mouth pulling into something that almost resembles a grin, like he finds you more entertaining than anything else. It’s not warm. Not kind.

Provocative.

The blonde woman shifts her weight, clearly irritated now, her gaze narrowing slightly as she looks at you again. “I think you heard him.”

You don’t move. Not an inch.

“I heard him,” you reply coolly. “I just don’t care.”

Her annoyance sharpens, visible now, but Jungkook doesn’t step in. Doesn’t correct you. Doesn’t repeat himself. If anything, he looks more interested now, watching the tension build like it’s something worth his time.

The woman steps further into the room, and now that you actually look at her, it’s obvious. The red dress clings to her body, cut far too short to be anything but intentional, the fabric hugging her curves like she walked in here knowing exactly what she came for.

Not the fight. Him.

You almost snort at the realization.

She barely spares you another glance before her attention shifts fully to Jungkook, like you’ve already been dismissed. “You were incredible tonight,” she says, her tone smoothing out into something softer, almost impressed. “I was here. Watched the whole thing.”

Jungkook doesn’t react the way she expects.

He doesn’t even look at her.

“Good,” he says simply, already reaching for a bag that looks like his, slinging it over his shoulder like the conversation means nothing.

The woman doesn’t seem discouraged.

If anything, she leans into it.

She steps closer, her movements slow, deliberate, like she’s used to getting attention this way. And maybe she is. But this time, there’s something else in it too—something sharper. When she shifts closer to him, her gaze flicks to you for just a second.

Oh. There it is.

She sees you as a problem. A threat perhaps.

The realization makes something in you click—and instead of being bothered, you grin.

Actually grin.

You shake your head lightly, almost amused now as you look between them. 

Her hand brushes lightly against his arm, her voice dropping as she says something under her breath, something meant just for him.

JK finally looks at her.

Not interested. Not even tempted.

“Not tonight,” he says flatly, pulling his arm away without hesitation. There’s no softness in it, no apology. Just a quiet finality that lands harder than anything else.

It’s enough.

Her expression tightens, the confidence slipping just slightly as she straightens, clearly not satisfied with the answer. For a second, it looks like she might push it, but she doesn’t. Instead, she exhales sharply, shooting you one last look before turning on her heel and walking out.

The door closes behind her.

Silence settles for a beat.

Then his attention shifts.

Back to you.

And this time, there’s no amusement left in it.

Just irritation.

“You’re still here,” he says, like it’s a problem that hasn’t fixed itself yet.

You let out a sharp breath, disbelief mixing with the anger that never really left.

“I can’t believe you,” you say, your voice tight, almost shaking. “You just walk out of there like it’s nothing. Like it didn’t even happen.”

He doesn’t respond.

That only makes it worse.

“Mario is in there,” you continue, stepping closer again, your frustration building all over again. “Barely conscious, coming in and out of it—and you’re just… here. Moving on. Like this is normal.”

Your eyes flick briefly to the door, then back to him.

“And what, now it’s back to this?” you add, your tone sharper. “Girls lining up because you won? Like that’s all this is to you?”

His expression barely shifts.

If anything, it hardens.

He doesn’t react the way you expect.

No apology. No defense.

Instead, he reaches into his bag, pulls out a thick fold of cash, and before you can even register it, he grabs your hand and forces it open, pressing the money into your palm.

“Enough?” he asks, tone flat. “Or you gonna keep talking?”

You stare down at it for half a second, disbelief hitting first, then anger flooding right after.

You’re about to throw it straight back at him—

But he speaks again.

“Give it to him,” he adds, nodding slightly toward the door. “Call it… a consolation prize.”

There’s a pause, just enough for it to land.

Then, quieter, with that same careless edge, “For getting dropped that fast.”

Your fingers tighten around the money without you meaning to, your jaw clenching as the insult settles heavy in the air.

Before you can react—

He moves.

It’s quick. Too quick.

His hand comes up, and his thumb brushes over the corner of your lips, slow enough to feel deliberate, wiping at something you didn’t even realize was there. The touch is brief, but it lands heavier than it should, heat lingering where his skin just was.

You freeze.

Not because you want to. Because you didn’t expect it.

He pulls his hand back, glancing at his thumb like he’s checking the faint smear of red before letting out a quiet, almost amused breath.

“Fix yourself,” he says, voice low, edged with something mocking. “Wouldn’t want you going back to your guy looking like that.”

His eyes flick back up to yours, that same faint smirk tugging at his mouth.

“Lipstick’s smudged, Red.”

And just like that, he’s done. He grabs his bag, throws it over his shoulder, and walks past you without another glance, like the conversation never mattered to him in the first place, like you never mattered enough to leave an impression. The bag shifts as he moves, heavy, the faint rustle unmistakable—you don’t even need to look twice to know it’s stuffed with cash. Easy money. Hard-earned in all the wrong ways. He carries it like it’s nothing.

The door shuts behind him with a quiet click, and the shift is immediate—the room falling into a stillness that feels almost unnatural after everything that just happened.

The silence presses in, heavy and unfamiliar. The faint trace of his cologne lingers in the air—something sharp, clean, expensive—cutting through the stale mix of sweat and smoke that clings to everything else in this place. It doesn’t belong here. It doesn’t fit the cracked walls, the worn furniture, the quiet evidence of violence that lingers in every corner. And somehow, neither does he, even though he clearly owns it.

You don’t move right away. Your hand is still loosely curled around the cash he forced into your palm, your other lifting without you realizing it, fingers hovering near your lips where his thumb had brushed just moments ago. The sensation is gone, but not really. It lingers in your head, in the way your body reacts before your mind can catch up, and that alone is enough to make your jaw tighten.

Your heartbeat hasn’t slowed. If anything, it’s worse now—faster than it was before you even walked in here, louder in your ears, harder to ignore. You swallow, forcing your hand to drop, grounding yourself, dragging your focus back to something real. Back to why you came here in the first place.

Because whatever that was, whatever just passed between you and him, it doesn’t matter.

Mario is still down the hall, hurt, barely conscious, and this place hasn’t changed just because you stepped into one room and out of another. It’s still exactly what you thought it was—a place where violence is entertainment, where people walk in and don’t always walk out the same, and where no one stops to care what happens once the fight is over.

Life motto: try something three times before calling quits. After three tries of your cycling class, you knew a lifetime of a sore coochie wasn’t tangible. Gave dating apps the same chances as well and the results were as expected: disappointing, borderline revolting. You’ve stuck with some things — sashimi, 10K daily steps, and coconut body moisturizer. Thing is, everything you’ve stuck with after the third try enriched your life. If you wanted to play technicalities, you’ve only kissed Jungkook twice. You don’t know if you could ever kiss him the third time for you could only extend the trial or never kiss again.

As much as the experience enriched a part of your life … you’re ruined. Have not stopped thinking about Jungkook since that night — how his lips felt against yours: soft for the entire four second duration and fleeting towards the end when they inevitably pulled away. 

Pleasure, feelings, and work can be separate.

Right. Only for Jungkook.

Wasn’t your full intent to avoid him for the past week. Work got busy and you’ve been dealing with Mina for the last twenty-four hours, asking if you were available for a last minute project at RkivedShots. You’ve sworn to give something three tries before quitting, and while you’ve only filmed once with RkivedShots, you don’t know if you had it in you to do it again. Had Mina been a little less nice and more curt with you, declining would’ve happened quicker and easier.

Asking Jungkook for his opinion would’ve been ideal, but again, you haven’t spoken to him in a couple days. Taehyung wouldn’t be able to give you an answer, defaulting the choice back to you.

You wanted someone to tell you it wasn’t a mistake to accept the project. Wasn’t a mistake as you drive to RkivedShots’ headquarters and not some random warehouse in the middle of nowhere. Because if it were a mistake, you’d have no one to blame but yourself.

“I promise it’ll be a quick shoot! Namjoon’s trying something new and he thought you’d be the perfect addition to the project.” Mina reasoned.

She greets you again at the entrance of their company building and briefs you on the assignment.

“He wanted to title it ‘vanilla’ … with a vanilla ice cream emoji next to it.”

Your mind wanders to the endless possibilities. Were the actors going to be drenched in vanilla ice cream? Worse … what if it had nothing to do with ice cream? The set up makes you question the theme even more: just a queen-sized mattress with soft yellow-hued lighting. A regular bedroom. If it’s one thing you’re sure of, the term ‘regular’ and RkivedShots do not go together.

“Our actors are still getting ready, so we’ll call you when we’re ready to shoot. Enjoy the snacks I prepared in your break area.” Mina smiles and points to a discreet location with your name printed on a piece of white paper.

You’re a little less nervous this time around after learning the project only involved a couple. Nothing better than starting off with one extreme such as an orgy to another production just between two actors. RkivedShots has prepared you well. Also prepared you for the excitement of the many amenities you’ve yet to explore. You wonder what kinds of snacks they’ve set out this time. Hands parting the divider between the set and your break area, you startle from a familiar voice.

“Pixie?”

It can’t be. Not again.

Of course, none other than Jeon Jungkook in the flesh. Or … well, in a robe. Dangerously opened, might you add.

You stand there, deer in headlights, before Jungkook laughs and wraps his hand around your wrist. He tugs you into your break area, barely catching the words coming out his mouth over the loud pounding in your ears. 

“What’s your game, Pix?” He simpers, eyes matching the glimmer of his lip piercings. 

“Game?” You ask in a stupor, having just processed you’ve bumped into Jungkook at another RkivedShots production set yet again. Seems like your whole relationship’s built on surprises and random meetings.

“Avoid me for a week only to surprise me at work?” He teases. 

“I’m not avoiding … Been busy, that’s all.” Half-truth. “Wasn’t aware you were gonna be here.”

“Could’ve known if we’ve been talking.” He shrugs, no malice behind his words. “But I get it. Life happens.”

Jungkook happened too. He rooted himself in a part of your life you’re not sure how to navigate around. He’s left you with no oars, and no certainty over what your next words should be.

“Sorry …”

“You’ll get wrinkles like that.” He taps your forehead. “‘S fine, no biggie.”

His words don’t exactly match his smile — meant to reassure you, but only leaves you wondering whether he really is alright. Perhaps things were easier when Jungkook only reached out to you regarding film.

Jungkook sits on the arm rest of one of the couches in your break area and you take a seat on a small stool on the opposite side, untrusting of yourself if you were any closer to him. His exposed thighs peep through the slit and if it opened a little more … alright, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. But it still makes you swallow thickly, eyes wandering around the secluded space.

“Thought you said you weren’t signing with RkivedShots. Change of heart?” He tilts his head.

“More like Mina. Have you ever tried saying no to that girl?” You huff. Jungkook takes the chance to make it known you and him were within the same vicinity with his full laugh. 

“Five years of working with her and I still find myself questioning why she isn’t in negotiations.”

“Right?” You chuckle. “Just another one-off job though.”

“Sure, that’s what they all say.” Jungkook winks. Was that what Jungkook believed after his first job? Speaking of jobs, you realize you’re both on the same set, which could only mean …

“Are you also a part of this production?” Dumb question, but Jungkook’s kind enough to grant you a simple answer.

“I am.” He confirms.

“Oh.” Your lips press into a thin line. “I-Is … would that be weird for you?”

“Would that be weird for you?” He parrots with his arms crossed, and your eyes drop to his chest.

“A little? I mean, we didn’t know each other the first time on set.”

He stares and exhales through his nose. “We’ll be fine, P. Just gotta separate things, remember? A job’s a job.” He reminds.

You and Jungkook fall into regular conversation. He asks about your schedule for the upcoming month, then you ask what he’s planning to eat for dinner, to which he questions whether that was your way of asking him out for dinner. Wasn’t your intention at all, but food with Jungkook sounds nice. The potential plan gets shot down when he tells you he already has other plans tonight. 

He looks at his watch and sighs. “I gotta head back to the makeup chair. Stella’s gonna throw a fit.”

You’re reminded in just a few moments, you’ll be filming your friend fucking another person. It doesn’t sit right with you, but like Jungkook said … a job is a job — you can separate your feelings. 

You have to.

Following closely behind him, you fall into your usual habit of overthinking, questioning if you can actually do this. There’s no denying your crush on Jungkook, but you were not ready to make it known — not ready to complicate the situation or relationship you’ve barely started with him. After all, the secret crush you have on your friend will crush you; if not, seeing him fuck someone else will finish the job.

Deep into your thoughts, you hadn’t realized Jungkook stopped before you bump face first into his back.

He turns, “You gonna be okay, Pix?”

“Yeah.” You lie.

Jungkook reads you easily. He hesitates, but then his hand nudges yours, and his pinkie hooks onto yours. You don’t move away.

“It’s not an orgy at least.” Jungkook tries to joke.

Yeah, it’s not an orgy. No, far worse. It’s Jungkook with someone else. Will it always feel like this?

“I suppose.” You reply. Feeling guilty for the damper mood, you try to joke too. “As long as you aren’t doused in vanilla ice cream or something.”

“God, I hope not. Namjoon’s done too much in the food category.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” The words leave your lips before you could fully register their insinuation.

“Are you now?” His pinkie curls around yours tighter, unwilling to let go of the thought — of you. “What other videos have you seen from RkivedShots?”

You blink, heat rising to your cheeks. Flashes of his thick fingers wrapped around his manhood threaten to make you black out entirely. “Nothing else.” You stutter.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He unhooks his pinkie with a mischievous grin and takes a step back. “I’ll see you out there, ‘kay?”

“Okay.” You nod, heart hammering even after he’s long gone from your space.

Jungkook’s costar was absolutely stunning. Skin free from blemishes or scars, breasts lifted and perky, and god, does she have a pretty smile. They seem close … friendly. Makes sense to have good chemistry before any bed chemistry.

True to Mina’s words, the script fits exactly what the title of the production suggested … vanilla. Nothing crazy, which is the crazy part considering Namjoon is all about breaking barriers. He wanted a shock factor for his audience. What better way to do it than to do something conventional?

“Totally going to rock RkivedShots’ fans.” Namjoon chuckles, going over the script with you and all the different angles he’d like you to film in.

It’s a simple scene: a couple waking up the morning after their wedding and making sweet love.

From behind, the girl and Jungkook de-robe. You should be used to seeing Jungkook naked at this point. Third time’s the charm, but you don’t feel quite lucky at the moment knowing what’s about to happen. You know the freckles on his chest up to the one below his lips. They say your moles and freckles were a result of all the kisses you received from your lover in your former life. And now, you’ll watch as someone else kisses them.

This is work.

A small fraction of both yours and Jungkook’s day which has nothing to do with who you are off set.

Though, if this is purely work, why does your grip tighten around your camera as Jungkook winks and smiles in your direction? 

He sways his head to the side, shrugs his shoulders, and climbs into bed with his co-actress. You fight the laughter bubbling in your chest at the cringy lines being regurgitated between the woman and Jungkook — not so funny when the blanket slips below their waists, revealing his cock buried deep in her cunt. His mouth hangs open, a red flush spreading across his chest.

It really is soft-core porn at its finest.

Namjoon’s scripts are good, but the actors make it better. The kisses, murmurs of love, compliance to requests of reaching further, deeper. It’s the closest thing to love when Jungkook has her in missionary, arms embracing her as his lips press against her forehead. So tender — the complete opposite of everything happening below the waist.

The fucking issue is when he dares to look up at the camera — at you. Hooded eyes, mouth pouty, and hips unfaltering.

You swallow. Startled, almost struggling to keep the camera still. It would definitely capture your every quiver if you weren’t a professional.

Something in Jungkook shifts. He cracks a smile, his strokes become more frantic, causing the woman below him to moan even louder. He pays no mind, his only attention is on you and how you’re now biting down your lip.

Your eyes jump between the display screen and the tangible scene unfolding beyond it, ultimately choosing to fixate on the screen. Not only in a wrestling attempt to ground yourself, you remind yourself you’re here to work — that this is your job. As an attempt to escape his sliced stare, you angle the shot moving slightly downward to focus on his middle rhythmically meeting the woman’s. Doesn’t make it entirely better, maybe not at all, but at least you’re not forced into a staring contest with the devil himself.

“Cut! Less looking at the camera, Jungkook.”

This goes on for another three takes until Namjoon calls for a powder touch-up.

The co-actress detaches from Jungkook and scurries off to her chair.

Jungkook barely passes you and you whisper, heated and flushed, “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Just working.” He picks up his water bottle and chugs down a good amount. All while still maintaining eye contact with your glossed gaze, like this is some sort of joke.

Thankfully, Jungkook lessens his antics. Probably more to do with everyone’s time and not at the expense of your feelings.

The final scene transitions to the woman falling to her knees and ripping off Jungkook’s condom. She kneels between his legs; consequently, so were you on the side. The camera faces her, filming every second of her fast handjob, mouth open for his inevitable orgasm.

She looks up at him, and begs for his cum before taking half his length in her mouth. 

You unconsciously shift in your kneeled position, thighs tensing — the action so minimal, one could easily miss it. Not by Jungkook. Your mouth parts, and although small, your warm breath reaches Jungkook’s bare skin. Jungkook moans, left leg tensing and shaking at the first sign of his orgasm. 

“Gonna cum.” He rasps, looking down. At you. “Fuck baby, ‘m gonna cum all over you.”

Oh, how you wish you were the one kneeling between his legs, taking his length in your mouth like his costar is now. You’re uncertain what you’d do, having never given anyone head in the past. He’d guide you, right? Tap the head of his cock on your lips before entering? Tell you how he likes getting sucked off? Praise you for a job well done and if not, you’d have all the chances in the world to make it up to him in different ways?

His costar pulls his cock out her mouth, pumping him faster as his cum lands across her face. She envelopes her lips around the tip, sucking till he’s empty. He runs a thumb across her face, gathering his cum. Eyes never leaving yours, he pulls his softened cock out of her mouth and replaces it with his thumb. 

“You make me the happiest man.” Another cringe-worthy line, but it was the last line in the script. Namjoon cuts the scene and wraps up production.

Jungkook helps his costar up first, then holds a hand out for you — the same cum-covered fingers, momentarily in another woman’s mouth. Ignoring his hand, you push yourself up from the ground. He stands there, brows twitching in confusion with his hand still extended in the air. 

You shake your head.

“So mean.” You mutter, shoulder brushing his arm as you walk past him.

The only good thing about RkivedShots were their snacks and you don’t hesitate to empty the spread before leaving. You also know this was the final time you film with RkivedShots or any adult film production company for that matter. 

Jungkook doesn’t follow you — doesn’t come by to see you off for the day, but you see him. Are reminded of him for hours in your day through the clips you edit, keeping and reserving those intensified stares for yourself. 

A small part of you hopes none of the day was an act. It wasn’t just a job and he felt something too.

Jungkook was convinced his desire to kiss you was innocent at best and foolish at worst. He was so foolish. He fucked up building an attachment to someone he knew should be kept at a distance, and now, distance was all you granted him.  

You’re upset with him and he’s not too sure why. Sure, his teasing on set went a little beyond necessary … but you enjoyed it, right? He knew he did. Wanted to show you how good he was at separating pleasure, feelings, and work. What other better way to show it than through demonstration?

‘So mean.’ Not true. Mean is ignoring his well-intended text messages and check-ins. Mean is also leaving your read receipts turned off and he isn’t sure whether you’re alive or not. A quick search on your business website shows you actively posting your past bookings … so yeah, you fit the definitions of cruelty. Not answering his text messages. Not addressing the elephant in the room — the one he unfortunately led in. 

Alright, maybe he’s to blame in all of this.

After a week of crickets, he can’t be bothered to keep trying. Communication was a two way street and his unanswered messages stopped all potential forms of interactions with you. Aside from that, Jungkook’s taken some time off from work. No, the time off wasn’t because of the whole situation with you. His profession gives him the financial flexibility to not work all the time and as a result he enjoys work even more after a period without it. 

What does Jeon Jungkook do on vacation? Nothing, really. He’s traveled where he wanted to in his twenties, so vacations are meant to just live. He eats what he wants, goes to the gym, and catches up on movies he’s missed. 

Also, fucks just ‘cause he wants to and not for a script. 

Just like he’s doing right now with his neighbor, Yoona—a pretty, forty-seven year old divorcee living the floor above him. The sixteen year age gap should be off putting, but there’s something about the maturity and wisdom she brings in this no-strings attached relationship Jungkook would otherwise struggle to maintain with someone around his age. She can’t be bothered to start over, and Jungkook isn’t looking for anything serious. She wants a good fuck, he wants confidence.

“Fuck yes, use this pussy.” She takes him on all fours, bed creaking as Jungkook fucks himself into her. He could do anything with her. Today? He’s unkind and she’s content with it. 

She just paid off her kid’s hefty university tuition ‘cause her ex-husband demanded her to do so while still milking the alimony dry. How do you go from promising ‘till death do you part’ to depleting your ex-spouse’s bank account as an act of revenge? An unfortunate, double-edged sword for her to make more money than him, but Jungkook wouldn’t have it any other way. Better she’s self-sustained than having to rely on a deadbeat man. Plus, Jungkook gets moments like these with her.

When Jungkook moved below her on the thirty-fourth floor, he hadn’t expected his neighbors to be this quiet. That is, until he heard screaming one day. Wishing he had a ladder and stethoscope to listen through the ceiling, he settled for the muffled conversation, eventually ruling as a classic case of cheating on the husband’s end. Some shit about Yoona not giving him enough attention and he wanted to feel like a man again. Boring and overused. After that night, Jungkook has not heard any form of human life upstairs. Maybe she forgave him. Maybe they moved out. Or—calling all crime junkies—maybe she murdered him.

Oh well, it’s none of his concern. 

Though, one encounter at the apartment complex’s gym, add the multiple shared glances, Yoona was in his bed before midnight. She finds him when she needs to blow off steam, whether it be from her ex or her children — and he finds her … well, whenever he’s horny. 

See. This is why Jungkook thinks marriage is a sham. He questioned the concept of holy matrimony when Hoseok told him he was thinking of proposing to Yoongi. Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce and then you’re left to deal with the aftermath. Nah, no thanks. But he’s glad marriage is working for his friends so far. 

He finishes in the condom shortly after, restless even when Yoona notices and offers to suck him off as a thank you for making her cum four times this morning. He’d take it, but a notification comes in on his phone. Yoona knew how all of this worked. She isn’t hurt or bothered by the idea Jungkook wasn’t fully present—wasn’t fully hers.

She pushes herself up, unneeding of any form of aftercare. This part felt weird in the beginning as Jungkook couldn’t comprehend how anyone didn’t want to be taken care of after sex. He’d love nothing more than to tend to his partner’s vulnerable needs. But sex with Yoona was just sex. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Maybe her expectations for the relationship had been low considering her dried out sex life with her ex-husband. Or maybe she doesn’t expect anything from a young man like Jungkook other than a good dick. Everything works out for Jungkook in the end: Yoona’s in her bathroom cleaning herself up and getting ready for work.

Post-nut clarity lets him take care of things he actually cares about. He opens your message thread and gets greeted by an image. No words … just … 

Roasted persimmons.

The plate is perched on your lap. Thighs exposed, you’re in the same black shorts he saw you in the video that one night. They’re perfect—your thighs—something he’d grab onto if he were driving … hell, as you drive. Would you let him lay his head there? Squish his cheeks between them as he eases your mind after a long day? And maybe you’d let him and all would be well again. A good orgasm always helped Jungkook forget about his problems. Wished that was the case after the sex he just had, cock throbbing again underneath the sheets at the mere thought of you. 

He missed you. Missed talking to you and poking your knowledge on film and photography. Missed your presence. Feels terrible for taunting you. Feels even more terrible at the thought of wanting you when you’re naive to all his desires. 

Jungkook [9:13 a.m.]: Yum.

The message was vague enough to deter you whether it was aimed at the persimmons or your thighs.

🧚[9:13 a.m.]: Morning 🙂 🧚[9:14 a.m.]: Long time no talk

And whose fault was that? He doesn’t reply, watching the typing bubbles fade in and out for a couple minutes. 

🧚[9:20 a.m.]: That was lame. Sorry, I’m really bad at this. Jungkook [9:20 a.m.]: At what?

His phone begins ringing and as much as he’d like to answer, he’s literally laid up in someone else’s bed—someone else’s home—very much naked. He begrudgingly clicks on the Custom Message button and types out a quick excuse, but before he could hit send, Yoona walks out in a beige pencil skirt, hair pulled into a neat bun. She fixes her earring backings, pausing as she does a fast once over at Jungkook.

“Don’t think I can go another round, Jungkook.” She eyes his covered lower half, silk sheets doing little to conceal his hard-on. Though not for her this time around, he’s not going to bruise her ego. 

“Gonna head out.” She continues. “Feel free to stick around as long as you want, but Haemin’s stopping by around noon.” Haemin … her teenage son. Yeah, no, Jungkook wasn’t going to stick around for that.

No sappy goodbye kisses are required with Yoona. No well-wishes or check-ins either. Completely different from how he wishes things were between you and him. The moment Jungkook finds himself outside her home, he immediately calls you back.

“Hi.” Your greeting comes out hesitant even after answering at the first ring.

“Pix,” He breathes, “Sorry, got caught in the middle of something so couldn’t answer your call.” He opts to take the stairway, concerned the elevators might drop the call.

“It’s okay.” You reply. “How have you been?”

“Fine.” He answers, thumb pressed on the sensor to unlock his apartment door. “How are you?”

You laugh. Soft, with a hint of remorse. Was it awful of him to assume that you haven’t been alright? That, perhaps, your misery had something to do with avoiding him for the past month?

“Busy.” You pause, hesitating with your next words. “Found myself thinking about my friend often.”

Friend. Huh. He’s not sure how he feels about this title. Then again, what other label could fit?

“Which one?” His door gently clicks behind him, lungs unconsciously trapping his exhale as to hear your sheepish voice better.

“The mean one.”

He chuckles, with little humour in it. “Sounds like an asshole.”

“He is,” on the other side, Jungkook hears you shift and move, imagines you repositioning on your small couch. “I’m not sure if he even knows though.”

Humming, he plops down on his own. “Have you tried talking to him?”

“Does right now count?” You sigh. “Okay, no more games, Jungkook.” He hates the way his back straightens at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. 

“Look, I texted and you ignored me, P.”

“Only ‘cause you weren’t addressing the issue or apologizing. And you still haven’t.” Okay, fair, the couple of times he texted you after filming were dismissive and avoidant.

Still not fair enough for him to give up his stance, no matter if he’d happily drop this whole discourse with a single word of yours. He missed hearing your soft tone around them, and maybe that’s exactly why he keeps arguing. 

To hear more of you.

“If you were upset, why didn’t you say anything? We’re too old to be playing guessing games.”

“And we’re too old to not read the room. You were mean and you still haven’t admitted it.”

The crazy thing is, Jungkook knows what he has to do to fix all of this. He knew in his heart he was in the wrong, but it’s hard to admit it. Humiliating, even. He’s only as good as his pride and that’s something he’ll have to swallow.

Just as he geared himself to properly apologize, you sigh again. “Let’s just call a truce. I gotta prep for a booking this afternoon. We can talk more about it later. Glad to know you’re alive at le—”

“I can come help, if you like.”

You pause. 

“If you want.”

He does, that’s unquestionable, and quite obvious. He’s not as certain it’s the same for you, though. “Do you want me there with you?”

Another pause. “I do.”

Jungkook has about two hours to put together an appropriate outfit for a black-tie wedding. It’s the most excitement he’s felt all month since going on vacation. Which is foolish, considering he isn’t doing anything valuable going to a stranger’s wedding. At this point, he’ll take any form of you in any setting, even if it means wearing those godforsaken dress pants again.

You’re beautiful. Always been. Even more beautiful when you smile and throw a small wave in his direction as he gets out of his car. If you weren’t with your equipment, maybe it’d look like you two were each other’s plus ones for this wedding. He certainly wouldn’t mind.

He helps with your bags, carrying the heavier load and you let him without protest. That’s what he’s here for: just to help you. You guys weren’t dates for a wedding. You weren’t lovers — barely friends now, especially with how he treated you.

He finds himself on the cusp of an apology every single second of the event, but he knows to keep work and feelings separate. All he knows is his apologies to you in the past were not well-received. A wedding, let alone your place of work, was not the time and place. 

He makes up for his clogged up words by trying to sneak your favorite appetizers in your direction. Hard when the couple seems to treat their employees … less than employees. Your itinerary mentioned to bring your own source of hydration and food. Bunch of other dumb rules Jungkook couldn’t be bothered to follow through, because if they were strict with their employees, they’re probably just as strict with their wedding guests. And god, did they look gloomy during the ceremony and reception.

Of course, Jungkook charms one of the waiters into giving him a mini-charcuterie cup.

“Psst, Pix. C’mere.” Jungkook waves behind one of the stone pillars. Between the wine glasses clinking and utensils scraping against plates, the reception was utterly dreadful and miserable. To add onto the horrors, there wasn’t any music playing.

You look to the side and fix your camera on the tripod before sneaking away, eyes lighting up when Jungkook holds out a small cup full of both savory and sweet snacks. 

You gasp and whisper, “How’d you get your hands on these?” You moan softly after popping in a chocolate-covered pretzel. Maybe Jungkook didn’t need music.

“Employees in the back are manifesting a divorce, so they gave away a cup as a sacrifice.” He jokes. You giggle, another sound Jungkook preferred over the silence. Would add that single giggle to a playlist and loop it for hours. Does that sound creepy? Definitely better than whatever this function is looking and sounding like.

“Let’s get a bite after this is all over. My treat.” You say. Jungkook hums around a starved mouthful, crumpling up the empty cup after you’ve both demolished every single bite, even all the unfavorable treats you both typically wouldn’t reach for on a normal day.

For a wedding this expensive and extravagant, the couple ran a terribly strict program at a night meant to celebrate their love and unity. He could only imagine what the future holds for this couple if they were this rigid for a celebration of their unity. Oh well, whatever floats for their boat. He’s sure they own at least ten and never set sail.

He counts down every second of the event, holding onto the promise of spending more time with you outside of working. It’s when you both packed all your equipment into your trunk, Jungkook finally feels a surge of anticipation as you offer a neutral smile.

“There’s a diner I saw on my way over. We can go there unless there’s somewhere else you prefer.” You close the trunk to your car, waiting for his answer.

“Diner’s good.” He nods. “Let’s go.”

Jungkook follows behind your car, noting how you’d signal a little earlier, waiting for cars to pass so he’d always remain right behind you in view. He follows you through the windy roads — the most intuitive thing he’s done all month long. 

In the small diner filled with other patrons of all ages, your formal wedding attires are none of the surprising. Looking less like you were both tortured at a wedding, Jungkook slides into the booth with his hair slightly disheveled and the first three buttons undone. You, on the other hand, took out your bobby pins during the ride over, leaving your hair running in whatever direction it pleased. Jungkook orders pancakes and a decaffeinated coffee, you order an omelet and hot tea — a perfect balance of sweet and savory, because what’s a good meal if not shared?

“So, work keepin’ you busy?” Jungkook sips his coffee. Lukewarm, bleh. When you look up at him, the liquid takes immediate effect down his esophagus, setting his chest and the pits of his stomach ablaze.

“Unfortunately. But I’m expecting a slow-down during summer holidays. No one likes being outdoors when it’s too hot or too cold. Plus, not in the budget for couples to fly me out to a destination wedding.” You shrug. “You? How’s work?”

“Makes sense. The beach sounds nice right now.” He nods. “Ah, and I’m technically on vacation, so I can’t complain.”

Raising your brows, you speak around your cup. “Oh? For how long?”

“However long I want.” 

Unlike your choices of beverages, your food comes piping hot. You and Jungkook thank the older waitress before prepping all the proper condiments. The food is not of high quality, but after hours of nothing but pretzels and blueberries, this was a meal for the royalties.

“What have you been up to?” You ask, helping him slather an ungodly amount of butter on the pancakes.

“Trying to get back into gaming. Hiked last week and got some good nature shots.” He muses, cutting up the pancakes into bite-sized pieces. He drizzles globs of syrup over the pancakes to balance your butter. Pushing his plate to the center, you do the same with your plate of omelet.

“That sounds like a good time.” You acknowledge, joy spreading across your face at the first bite of pancakes.

“Mhm.” His fork stabs into one of the omelet pieces.

Silence falls between you both as you eat the subpar, but first, hot meal of the evening. Basic mannerisms called for no talking at the table; yet, you’ve hardly looked him in the eye. He should say something. Maybe start out with a long overdue apology — an appropriate heartfelt one because he cares about your feelings despite not fully understanding what he did wrong.

The wedding wasn’t an appropriate setting to talk; was a diner any better? Probably not, especially when trying to enjoy a meal. But every time he goes to swallow a bite, his throat constricts, tighter with each passing moment. Food is fighting to go down and words are in the way, trying to get out.

He continues eating; although, he’s slowly losing appetite the more you avoid his gaze, the mix of butter and syrup on your fork suddenly garnering your attention more than the man seated across the table from you. Half of him thinks, plans, and molds the perfect words for an apology. Curating something so foolproof, you wouldn’t be able to refuse it. The other half of him debates dropping the situation. Don’t try to fix what isn’t completely broken.

Instead, he buys some time by small talk, asking about how Gum was doing, to which he finds out you bought a second beta fish (separated by its own tank, of course) and named him Bubba.

“He’s pretty, isn’t he?” You lock your phone after showing a picture of the two fishes and their makeshift dividers.

Okay, Jungkook isn’t one to demand constant updates, but friends (if that’s what you are to each other) are supposed to share their lives with one another, right? In any other circumstance with his friends, they’d keep him posted on their whereabouts and small wins—losses too. Knows the silence between you two was a result of some mute animosity, but you’ve always been a terrible texter even before all this.

Not as terrible for you to keep fish-updates to yourself, though.

He rarely calls you by your actual name, but serious conversations call for a mildly serious introduction. 

You tilt your head. 

“I’m no stranger to things getting busy, but I don’t know …” He begins. “Makes me kind of disappointed to learn things about you after the fact.”

God, the moment those pathetic words leave his lips, he’s reduced to a fool begging for a hint of attention. So dumb having to ask your friends do the bare minimum — even dumber when his heart races at your frown.

Your voice sounds smaller. “I’ve always been like this.”

Great, he shows a little bit of weakness and now he’s going to be labeled as needy. Jungkook sits there, ready for your refusal — mouth agape, drawing in a sharp breath only to let out the air through a shaky exhale, no response following. He thinks your big eyes flickering over his face are making it harder to add anything else.

Lucky for him, you explain yourself further before he has to strip himself bare further. Not that he ever minded whenever he was in your company. Right now, the action carries a bit of shame with it.

“Maintaining communication’s hard for me.” You sigh. “I don’t mean to keep stuff from you. I’ll do better.” 

Jungkook only nods, content with your promise. You give him a tight-lipped smile and go up to the counter, striking up a short conversation as the cashier rings up the bill. 

Outside the diner, Jungkook is just a few steps behind you as he watches you make your way to the car, moonlight bright enough to light a pathway. Tunnel vision turned off, your skin glows underneath said moonlight enough for Jungkook’s attentive gaze to follow your every movement in the darkness. 

Then, the gravel underneath your heels crack as you turn.

Your steps grow bolder, but now you’re walking straight up to him, and for a split second, Jungkook thinks—no, hopes— you kiss him goodnight. Not the goodbye kind, a lingering, syruped-sweetened peck. But the punishing kind, where it leaves him wanting more as he’s been wishing for since the night he kissed you. 

You don’t, though, and that was enough punishment in itself.

You stop in front of him, breeze carrying your scent. “I’m still upset.” Your brows pull together, eyes wide as you stare up at him.

Ah, shit, he’s going to have to veer off from the script he curated in his head moments ago at the diner. It’ll still be a genuine apology, just not a well-versed one. Can’t be when you’re finally in his immediate proximity, and not at an arm’s length. He can feel your warm breath grace his skin, and for a second he’s teleported back to the very situation that made him you-starved for longer than he’d ever like — the very one you’re still upset over.

He inhales, “I know. I’m sorr—”

“No.” You shake your head. “I’m upset because I … I’m confused.”

So is Jungkook. Confused, because you’re both upset but still can’t help the fondness as you take the time to recount his moles — as he takes the time to count your every lash.

You swallow. “I don’t know how to explain these feelings, but I missed your company — I missed you.” The confession lands in a beat of silence too long. Heart in your hands, you continue. “I’ll try to be a better friend.”

A better friend. Huh.

He’s always in the market for friends. He has plenty of friends: good ones, ones no longer in his life, and ones he keeps for the sake of keeping. He intends for you to stay in his life if you wish to. Yet, your words burn like scalding water to the hand, unsure if it’s from the suggestion you were bad to begin with or that you only truly saw Jungkook as a friend.

Fuck that. He undoes your statement — voids it for a moment. 

Hands coming up to cup your cheeks, you’re pulled against him before you could register what’s happening. 

Even as Jungkook hovers over you, blocking all sources of light, moonlight is forever etched on your lips. So is the sweetness and everything good about you Jungkook desperately wants to savor. 

He has you now, moonlight on his lips and all.

Kissing always felt good. But kissing you? He doesn’t ever want to lose this feeling. You moan, helpless as your fingers cling to the bottom of his dress shirt. 

He pulls away just enough to speak, hoping his honesty reaches you. “You are good, Pix. So good. It’s me. All my fault, okay?” His lips brush against yours. “I’m sorry.” Another kiss. “Shouldn’t have done that at the shoot. I couldn’t help it.”

You nod, half whimpering as you kiss him back, repeating the same phrase you last said to him on set. “So mean.”

He doesn’t mean to be. And so he showers you with kisses, traps you against his car because he won’t chance the possibility of you leaving on bad terms again — a crucial moment to show you how sorry he is. If anyone were to come across you and Jungkook right now, they’d either whistle or yell something on the lines of getting a room. 

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook says again. “I’ll do better.”

Both you and Jungkook do better after that night. 

You attempt texting him daily — seemingly awkward and forced at first to Jungkook. He doesn’t allow himself to get too excited over a changed behavior early on in the event you revert to your old ways.

He tries his best to take things slow. Jungkook isn’t privy to relationships fizzling away after a short while, and is aware of their fleeting nature. Still, he hopes to build a solid one with you first regardless of his dislike of labeling you both as friends. Two things can exist at the same time … he’s just not sure where you stand in all this. Some people just wanna have fun; unsurprisingly, most people can’t envision a life with a pornstar halfway into a relationship and end up leaving. 

Here for a fun time, not for a long time.

Maybe you’ll be that for him — maybe that’s all you want from him.

Pleasure, feelings, and work can be separate.

The statement grounds him, but eats away at his core with every moment spent with you. Nearly two months have passed since he’s accepted any work. Granted, he’s gone longer without work in the past, though, a looming unease brews inside the more time he takes away from his job. Thinks he should go back — rebuild and secure his routine again.

He’ll think about it.

Time away from work is meant for living, so he relishes in your company, inviting you over for dinner to finally watch 27 Dresses. He laughs to himself after he sent over his guest entry code and you question what kind of complex he lives in to require a guest code.

He runs his wet hands through his kitchen towel at the buzz of his doorbell system, signaling your arrival. Though unneeded, he still glances at his intercom out of habit, finding you looking around the vicinity. You take your phone out from your pocket, seemingly going to text Jungkook of your arrival.

He presses on the red button. “What’s the password?”

You startle, confused. Once spotted the camera, you glare, mouth pulled into a small pout.

“Pixie?”

Funny how you think your nickname would be the key to opening the door. He didn’t have an actual password in mind; nonetheless, the name he chose specifically for you is enough to gain entry through every one of Jungkook’s doors.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” He mimics the same cheesy line you used when he first visited your home. His home isn’t nearly as humble, even with its minimalistic appearances. Every carefully handpicked decor and furniture held an air of expense.

“Nice.” You compliment, taking off your shoes. Rarely caring about other people’s comfort in his home, he finds himself overly prepared for your visit, going as far as purchasing a pair of house slippers for your comfort.

What? Just a nice gesture he does for a friend who has welcomed him far too many times in their home. And secretly, he hopes you’ll continue to wear these slippers with every future visit, the compression wearing down and shaping perfectly around your feet as time progresses. 

From Jungkook’s height, he spots a hint of orange in the small brown bag you hold from behind. 

Persimmons.

“P, you know I can’t finish those on my own.” The small complaint carries a light jest.

Shrugging, your lips mirror his curled ones. “Well, I guess I would just have to help you.”

You follow closely behind him, and he’s suddenly conscious of his home. Did you fancy the candle’s scent he lit up about thirty minutes ago? He wasn’t going to tell you he spent his morning trying to find a scent matching closely to the one at your home.

He leads you to his kitchen where he has plates of ingredients washed and prepped. Saved the onion for last because … well, it’s onions and they’re the bane of his existence. 

You’re seated on one of his high stools with a glass of water he poured. It’s weird having you in his space for once — a new type of different where he grows accustomed to the view of you surrounded by everything he loves. He chases away the thoughts of you fitting just right in.

You talk about your day, stopping to giggle as you offer to help when he starts tearing up during the onion cutting.

“You’re my guest though. Shouldn’t be helping.” He sniffs, wiping away his tears with his forearm. 

“Got saran wrap?” You round the corner, now right by his side.

“Upper right cabinet.” He answers, going to the sink to rinse his hands and eyes. 

“I saw this tip on Facebook …” You tip-toe, reaching the box and taking the wrap out.

“Okay, Facebook Mom.” He grins teasingly, paper towel in hand to dry his hands and face.

“I’ll have you know, they give some of the best advice there.” You rip away a strip and walk over to Jungkook.

“Facebook’s just for nosey people.” He’s long deleted Facebook after a nasty post circulated about him early on in his career. 

“Missing out on all the food groups and marketplace.” You stand in front of him, crowding him against his own sink. “How else do you think I found Gum and Bubba?” 

Hands coming up to his face, the saran wrap covers his eyes and nose. He jerks his head back before complying under your hold when you giggle, fingers patting the plastic secure over his cheeks.

You snort, arms crossing like you’re proud of your intervention. “There. Have a go at the onions again.”

Jungkook blinks, unsure how to properly function with his sight and breathing impaired. “I’m happy you found something great from Facebook—”

“Many things.” You correct.

“But this is the genius advice you got, Pix?” His vision goes cloudy after his tenth exhale.

“Trust me! It works.” You say with your hands on your hips.

Lo and behold, it does. One point to Pixie … er, to the Facebook Moms.  

A comfortable silence falls between you and Jungkook as he turns away to cook. That is, until the legs of the chair scrape against the floor once again and Jungkook feels your heat on the left side of his body, front brushing his arm.

“What are we having tonight?” 

We. Feels nice to hear. You feel nice next to him.

“Chicken risotto.” He replies, throat bobbing as you press your chest closer.

You probably don’t even realize what you’re doing either. Even under the food’s strong aromatics, Jungkook picks up your scent by sheer proximity. He could abandon the risotto—right here, right now—in favor of crowding you against his kitchen counter and kissing you silly. What’s the need for food when your kisses do enough to keep him fed and satiated? 

Slow, he reminds himself. 

He hums, glancing at the top of your head, your eyes fixated on the pan. “Almost done. Just gotta plate and we can eat together. Wanna start up the television? 27 Dresses should be on Netflix.” 

You linger for another second before moving to the living room. He slows his movements on the stove as he listens for his television, tense shoulders dropping at the sound of the brief welcome introduction. 

Steaming risotto plated, he expected you to remain in the living room, but when he walks in, you’re nowhere to be found.

“Pix?” He calls out, setting the plates on the coffee table.

“I’m here.”

He turns, following the source of your soft voice, and he finds you staring out the large curtain wall. This time, as he steps closer, he’s the one standing behind you, front pressed against your back.

“It’s nice here. You see everything.” You murmur. Frankly, this part of his home was his favorite. Nothing beats waking up or coming home to this view. Might argue this view was his new favorite: you looking up to face him, round eyes dancing between his own eyes and lips.

He clears his throat. “Food’s ready. We should eat before it gets cold.”

You blink. “Right.”

Both you and Jungkook sit on the floor of his living room. Risotto’s good — your company is even better. Evening’s going well and you seem to be enjoying the food. He mentally cheers in his head at a job well done.

“My university cohort group page posted an announcement for a photography competition. Not sure if you’re interested. Would be fun.” You say, wiping your mouth.

Jungkook was no stranger to competitions having entered quite a few of them in his teenage years. They were fun in the beginning when there was still no pressure behind them. Things changed as he got older and while there was no pressure, his pride was on the line. People got better — more creative and competitive. He’d imagine that’d be the same with this contest.

He shrugs. “Hm, maybe.”

“I can help if you like.” You offer. “There’s nothing to lose.”

Jungkook smiles, but doesn’t fully agree to the proposition quite yet. 

People are lying if they say it takes a whole hour to eat. No longer than fifteen minutes into the movie, you and Jungkook finish your respective plates. You offer to wash dishes, but Jungkook refuses.

“I’ve got a dishwasher for that, P.”

Brows raised, you counter. “Okay, so do I, but it’s quicker by hand.”

He muses. “Why else would we have a dishwasher if not to use it to wash dishes?”

You shrug. “Store dishes?”

He chastises you for another thirty seconds before telling you to relax and enjoy the movie while he gets up to start the dishwasher.

Back next to you in record time, his teeth worry at the inside of his cheek. He never realized how big his couch was in comparison to your small two-seater. Far less cozy than yours, but there was never a need to entertain his guests out of comfort. They never stayed long and Jungkook valued aesthetics over ease.

Now as you’re both seated on his too-big-of-a couch, he wonders if you’re comfortable. There’s enough space on the surface where you don’t need to be side by side, but Jungkook didn’t mind you being close. 

He wanted you close.

Arm slung along the backrest, his urge to touch the nape of your neck intensifies at your small shiver.

Perceptive to your every shift and need, he’s eagerly ready to right any discomfort. “You cold? I could get a blanket. Turn on the heater—”

You shake your head. The single gesture has his restless nerves calming, while the side of his leg dips as you shift your body closer to him. Your shoulder presses into the side of his chest. 

“I’m good like this.” You turn your head to the side. “Are you?”

He fakes a cough. “Yeah. ‘m good.”

Jungkook wanted this hangout to be void of any talks of film or photography. He knows you both share love for those topics … still, what else was there? He’s finding it hard to rack up any other conversation starters with you this close to him. 

What does he default to? Babble about the different film styles of the movie, even though he’s positive he’s wrong about his knowledge and theories. Nonetheless, you nod and act as though all the concepts Jungkook mentioned were something new and praiseworthy. 

He’s about to transition to another analysis of the last frame in the movie when you suddenly shift to face him with a determined look.

“Do you wanna kiss me?”

He freezes, body seizing up at your unprompted question.

“You can’t–can’t just say that.” He instinctively covers his face with his hand, can’t bear looking at you like he’s a teenager navigating his first crush again. The tips of his ears burn from your honesty and when he finally wills himself to look at you, you’re also just as embarrassed — adorably so.

“Forget I asked.” You mumble, inching away. “Sorry.”

“Wait! No, I mean, yes, I want to, just,” He stumbles over his words. “You caught me off guard.”

The movie’s long over, and Jungkook didn’t get to ask how’d you like it — what you thought about the sister’s betrayal and how he thinks Jane’s problems would’ve gone away if she developed some form of backbone to say no. Actually, he’s in no position to judge Jane. Jungkook has no backbone when it comes to you — can’t seem to refuse you. 

Doesn’t want to.

Knees planted on the sides of his thighs, you lean down to kiss him like you’ve intended to do so since the moment you walked through his door tonight.

Seems like every meeting with you has ended like this. Neither of you mind. You’re still hesitant when it comes to kissing, playing it safe as you press your lips on his, favoring his bottom lip only.

Cute. With every moment he lets you explore, you grow a little more confident in your actions. Just a little more time before he— 

“Mmp–” You pull back, breath heavy with a sheen of saliva on your lips. His, definitely. All his.

“What? Didn’t like that?” Jungkook tilts his head.

“Never done it.” You admit, voice small.

Jungkook had a feeling you’ve never french kissed before. Not an issue. His lips part, back hitting his couch as he pulls you closer. “Go on. Stick it in my mouth. Try it.”

Jungkook half expects you to shy away, but your hand holds the back of his couch, caging him in your embrace. Your nose grazes his before he feels your wet muscle push through the entrance of his mouth. Groaning, he wraps his lips around your tongue, sucking on it. 

He pulls away, “That’s how it’s done. You paying attention, Pix?” He doesn’t give you enough time to reply as he pulls you in again and you blindly stick your tongue back into his mouth another time.

Oh, it’s fucking filth.

Jungkook’s cock throbs painfully in the confinements of his pants. Doesn’t help when you roll your hips on top, seeking for some form of relief too.

And when you pull away, a string of saliva keeps you tethered to him for a millisecond. You’re saying something but Jungkook can’t hear anything through the pounding in his ears.

“My turn?” You ask.

And it’s only reasonable Jungkook agrees. After all, what’s a lesson without proper demonstration of your newly learned skills?

His hand cups your chin, fingers squishing your cheeks slightly to part your mouth.

Voice groggy, his smirk taunts you. “Show me what I taught you. You can do that, yeah?”

You nod, eyes growing heavy as Jungkook leans in. Without warning, he thrusts his tongue into your mouth. You moan, copying exactly what he did when he had your wet muscle tangled with his mouth. Such a quick learner, so keen to impress.

A minute goes by with you sucking and playing with his tongue. He loves it. Loves the way you sound—loves how you grow bolder if he reacts a certain way. His mind slips into territories of how you’d take his length in your mouth, cock growing stiffer in his pants thinking about it. You’d be just as clueless, right? Asking for guidance when Jungkook could quite literally bust a nut at the sight of you on your knees. Well, he has, but that’s besides the point.

Eventually, you both return to the normal pace of kissing, and even when you pull away, he can’t stop. Finds himself trailing kisses on your jaw, down the column of your throat.

“Jungkook,” You breathe, fingers woven into his hair.

“Hm?” He sucks harshly on the juncture of your neck.

Whining, you tug at his thick locks. “I-Is this normal?”

This? Whatever he’s doing with you? Probably not in the handbook of things to do with your friends, but alas, here you both are. 

“What is?” He asks, warm exhale hitting your skin. 

You take his hand, once rested on the curve of your hips, and place it dead center on your chest.

“This.” You swallow. “I know you said things should be separate. But … I don’t know.”

Your glassy eyes almost make him uncertain of his own strict belief. He hesitates when your fingers slip to his nape, curling at the base.

“Can be.” He corrects, feeling the hard thumps through your sweater. If he wanted, he could show you how his own heartbeat matches yours. But he doesn’t. Conjures something in his head convincing enough to slow its pace down. “It’s okay to not know. We’re just enjoying each other, right?”

“This is enjoyable for you?” You ask, breathless.

Jungkook mentally scoffs, as if the boner he’s sporting right now — which he’s sure you can feel, rock hard against your middle — isn’t enough proof. 

“It’s sufficient.” He jokes, and a playful smile spreads on his face as you lightly smack his chest. His expression morphs into tenderness. “I wouldn’t do something if I didn’t like it, P. Same needs to go for you. You are enjoying this, right?”

“I am.” You confirm with a small nod.

“Good.” He kisses you, soft and reassuring. “Good.”

The kisses get heated again, and you slide his hand down over your breast, silently giving him the okay to do as he likes. 

“You sure, P?” He murmurs against you.

Your palm over his presses harder, a silent yes. The pressure first comes from his fingertips, a tentative, experimental squeeze. You shudder, leading his hand under your sweater. His warm touch meets the soft skin of your stomach.

“Just so you know, this wasn’t–” Jungkook groans, kissing you once more, “my intention.”

“What were your intentions?” You push his hand up, guiding him to the valley of your breasts again. “Hm?” You push.

“Dinner. Movie.” He’s glad he didn’t make fun of you for your caveman-like responses a while back. He’s no better at the moment. 

His hand is over your tit now, and a light pinch spurs on a small moan. The bralette you have on is sheer. Could feel your stiff nipples through the cloth. 

“What were your intentions, P?” Jungkook asks, thumb swiping over the hardness.

You hardly suppress a whimper. “Spending time with my friend.”

That word — again, settling ickily in between you both — prompts him further. “Like this?” He squeezes harsher, knuckles pinching your covered nipple. 

Dropping your head into the crook of his neck, you whine.

“Uh-huh. Like this.”

“You’re killing me.” He hisses.

Somewhere between the kissing, sucking, and groping, you end up on your back on Jungkook’s too-big-of-a couch. Comfort was the last thing Jungkook cared about when he purchased it, mainly for the functionality and its general ability to seat and hold multiple people for multiple types of activities. This isn’t about the couch’s body count though. Right now, his too-big-of-a couch fits you both perfectly. There’s one less thing to worry about, but this small win brings other issues to light. Like how he’s somehow responsible for your pleasure and experiences or how you somehow get a whiff of insecurity.

“Jungkook.” You clear your throat.

You shake from how quick he parts from you, lips detaching from your skin, hand coming out from underneath your shirt. 

“Yeah, Pix? You okay?” He’s utterly unaware of how his looks affect you, as you drink in his kiss-bitten lips, messy hair, and blown out stare. You mirror his state, skin hot to the touch and clothes not in their original state from the time you entered his home.

Still, you sit up, pulling your sweater down to cover your midriff.

“Sorry.” You chew on your lips, noticing how this is definitely a shift from the previous activities.

Jungkook blinks, breaths regulating as he shifts up, but never too far from you. “What’s wrong? Did I…?”

There’s no throw pillow for you to shield behind. No where to run or hide. 

He’d never pressure anyone to have sex with him, but things were going well and suddenly they weren't. A part of him can’t help but go into that dark space of … was it his fault? Did he read the room wrong? Not the first time when it came to you.

Maybe his game was off.

Or maybe it was him. His profession — who he is.

He can’t help but question out loud now that you haven’t said anything.

“Is this about what I do?” He asks again, straight to the point. “I test every week and I’m all for safe sex. Or no sex too. I don’t mind us just hanging out.”

A small puff of air exits before you laugh. “I’m the exact opposite of you, Jungkook.”

When his brows only furrow further in confusion, you continue, “I am having a nice time. I enjoy this … but reality is, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

He blinks. “Okay? I never expected that of you.”

Shaking your head, you look down at your lap. “You said you don’t want to be in the position to teach or lead.” 

Jungkook really needs to be careful with his words in the future. His words hold value and they are true to an extent. He just never felt like he was forced into the position to teach you. He does want to guide you, discover and learn — all that, alongside you.

He inches closer to you, pressing a small, careful kiss on your cheek you don’t move away from. He takes it as a sign to keep going.

“I don’t think I’ve been teaching or leading you.” He replies, the pressure of his body pushing you to lay on the couch again.

“You don’t,” your mouth gets covered momentarily from a quick peck, “understand.”

“Tell me then, so I do, Pix.” His hand cups the back of your neck and holds you there as he kisses down your neck.

“Don’t wanna be seen as some loser needing their hand held, but I’m afraid I might need it.” You whine and shiver from his touch.

“Intimacy doesn’t have to be perfect.” He reasons, more to himself than ever. “Won’t hold your hand through it unless you want me to.”

You purse your lips. “I might not be able to give you what you want.” Rather, what he’s used to. Similarly, Jungkook worries he might not be able to give you what you want — what you need. And what you need is someone who’s patient and gentle. So accustomed to either falling in line with a script or fucking based on primal needs, Jungkook isn’t sure if a part of his brain is capable of rewiring for someone like you.

He wants to try, but trying comes with the price of feelings.

You kiss him, your ease and comfort slowly thawing again as you let out a soft sigh, breath fanning against him before uttering, “And what you want matters too.” 

What does he want? He’s well past the point of wanting filming lessons from you. He reached the conclusion a friendship was necessary, but it wasn’t the only thing he wanted. It’s certainly not a relationship like the one he has with Yoona … which he thinks he might need to stop if he were to explore more with you. For your sake, and for his too because he assumed you’d want something strictly between you two.

Wait, would you?

This is the fucked up part of starting stuff with a friend.

Even more fucked up for having to be careful and delicate with someone inexperienced.

For this very reason, he really does dislike inexperienced people. And yet, he likes you, a lot—more than he’d like to admit.

He’s not sure what he wants out of this. At the moment, all he can think about is what he wants to do to you.

Jungkook leans near you again, and your breath stills, waiting for what he says next. 

“Let me take care of you tonight.”

He doesn’t promise it’ll be good, not like how kissing is. Has perfected the art of kissing, but what he wants to do produces subjective outcomes. You might love it, you might hate it — that’s for both of you to find out. He kisses his way down your body, focusing a little more at your chest because that’s where you seem to react most … where he finds you softest. 

For now.

Your sweater lifts again, exposing your belly button. He kisses the side of it, and his cock twitches in his pants as you giggle and squirm. You quiet down when he nips at the button of your jeans, fingers splayed on top as he waits for your go-ahead.

“Didn’t shave, by the way.” You sputter.

“What are we, sixteen?” He jokes. He’ll be honest, sixteen year old Jungkook wouldn’t know right from wrong, and probably be repulsed only because he was taught to. Took a while for him to learn body hair was normal, no matter how much or little.

You offer a shy smile. “Just a courtesy notice.” 

“Not needed, but thanks, P.” He smirks, doing his best to alleviate your worries along with the trembles of your fingers on your button. “Warn me if you got teeth down there, alright?”

You laugh and Jungkook takes this moment to pry off your pants, leaving your underwear on. Jeans tossed somewhere on the ground, Jungkook kisses the top of your knee, spreading your legs wide enough for him to drop down between them. 

You should’ve worn a different pair of panties. You couldn’t have predicted reaching this level of intimacy with Jungkook tonight. Cotton blue does little to conceal the wet patch growing in the center, and Jungkook takes in the view a little longer than you would like. You cover your face with your hands.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Jungkook leans down, pressing his lips on your stomach. He feels it tense, squirming under his pecks.

Your voice comes out muffled and strained, “Nothing.”

The last time he said this phrase, he had different intentions. Wanted to show you how possible it was to separate pleasure, feelings, and work. He doesn’t think you’re saying this to deceive or deter.

“Can’t think.” You add, shoulders caving in as his hot breath warms your core.

“Try.” He kisses over your clothed pussy and you whimper, startled. “You have to tell me what you’re thinking, ‘kay?”

You nod, removing your hands from your face which ball up at your sides when Jungkook presses dainty kisses on the inside of your thighs. Your body still tenses here and there, not fully letting your guard down. Even worse, you weren’t verbalizing your thoughts as he asked.

Screw it.

He’s gonna give you something to think about—something to remember whenever you’re with or without him.

“Jungkook!” 

Your back lifts off from the couch, brows pulled together as you watch him lick one long stripe along your slit, from the bottom to the top of your covered cunt.

Parts your panties to the side and wets his lips in anticipation. You’re fucking soaked, pussy lips glistening with your arousal, all from the previous makeout session. You may not be able to verbalize what you think, but Jungkook reads the message loud and clear when he runs his fingers between your folds.

He groans at the warm feeling, smooshing wet kisses along the inside of your thigh. “Pretty pussy. Gonna let me play with it, Pix?”

“Y-yes.” Your chest caves and heaves from the pleasure, eyes somehow holding his hooded stare from where he looks up at your face.

He does this for a couple minutes, watching how you’d react when his fingers part for your clit before he scissors them closed again. Your breathy moans come out without control as he speeds up his ministrations. He spits on your cunt — lubrication not needed, but it’s something he hopes you liked.

And fuck, you do.

Jungkook said he wasn’t gonna hold your hand, yet here he was: one hand keeping your panties to the side and the other coming from under your thigh to tangle with your fingers. His thumb rubs the top of your hand reassuringly, doesn’t need words to tell you he’s got you. Can’t talk even if he wanted to with his mouth busy lapping at your cunt.

It’s good—so, so, so fucking good. He knows it by how you cry out, the tail end of your moans coming out like a question, a surprise at how good this foreign experience is. He’s enjoying himself too, eyes closing as he wraps his lips around your clit. He sucks, soothes over with his tongue, and does it again. Can’t tell if the pool of wetness under you is from your pussy or a mixture of his saliva. Fuck if he cares. 

“God, Pix, you’re dripping.” He peers at you. “So much.”

“Uh-huh.” You mewl. Your poor brain must be working overtime, unable to formulate a proper sentence. 

Your hand squeezes harder around his as he laps up and down your folds. He soon grows tired of keeping your panties parted, briefly unwinding his fingers from yours and sitting on his heels. His heart lurches at your little whine, assuming Jungkook was done or denying you of pleasure, front slightly jolting forward at the sudden loss.

Your first experience is important and he’d never leave you like this — not without taking care of you and seeing through your orgasm. Fingers hooked at the waistband, he’s uncaring how shitty of a job he’s doing at removing your panties. It’s a crumpled mess dangling off one of your ankles and neither of you are concerned enough to finish the task as Jungkook finds home again between your legs.

Naturally, one of your hands is already enveloped in his, so he takes your other one and puts it on his head. Your nails rake through his hair, settling nicely on the base of his head before you pull his face back to your cunt.

Good. He likes that. Can’t help the muffled, pleasured sound he lets out against your core.

“Keep going. Please.” Your mouth drops open at the feeling of him suctioning around your clit again.

He hums, his other free hand coming underneath to part your legs further. The pad of his thumb pushes at your entrance, not with enough force to enter; yet, enough for you to keen and grip his dark locks tighter.

He’ll stay there for as long as you want, or don’t want. Your thighs unconsciously close around his head, squishing Jungkook’s cheeks in the process. You murmur a small apology, half giggling and half moaning in the process. The couch he chose might be stiff and uncomfortable for a reason after all — he appreciates it even more when he’s able to drive his hips down for some much needed friction. 

“Koo–” A warning, wailed in the space of his living room. 

Jungkook takes the sign, coaxing you with matched eagerness. “I know, baby. It’s okay. Cum on my tongue, won’t you?”

You cry out, stomach tensing at the first wave of your orgasm.

Fucking hell, he could nut just by the way you sound. He nods, continues doing whatever he’s been doing. Keeps everything the same, up until when you start to shake and your toes push at the couch, trying to move away from him. No way he’s letting you rob yourself of a good orgasm.

“I’m cumming.” You gasp. “Oh my god, I-I’m cumming.”

He pins you down, no more hand holding, just thighs opened for him as he continues eating you out. And because it’s your first time, he’s got to set the bar high—that good head should always feel like this. Head turned sideways, Jungkook moves himself up and down, lips suctioning and tugging every part of your pussy. 

He finally backs off when your weak hands grasp his shoulders. Whether to stop him or to pull him back up your face, Jungkook moves and plants kisses all over your torso on his way to you. His forehead touches yours, nose nudging the side of your cheek. You can smell yourself on him. Can see your arousal shining on the bottom of his face. Everything Jungkook previously showed you goes out the window as you press your lips to his and stick your tongue clumsily into his mouth. Alright, to be fair, he only showed you how to handle another person in your mouth. 

Chuckling and exhaling through his nose, he massages his tongue on yours, slow and deliberate.

“So good.” He praises, wiping the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “Did you like that?”

“Which part?” You breathe, hooded eyes looking into his. “But the answer is yes.”

He laughs.

“What about you? Did you like it?” You ask. Usually so sure of yourself, your voice comes out uncertain, anxious even at the thought he of all people might’ve hated everything he’s done with you. You avert your eyes under Jungkook’s confused stare.

He doesn’t verbally answer—instead, he drives his hips forward to your bare cunt. You gasp, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

His own mouth falls agape, then curls into a wicked smirk at your reaction. “What’s the verdict, Pix? Hm?”

You gulp, hesitate a little before you say: “Like it needs to be taken care of.”

“Can do that on my own, don’t worr—”

“I wanna see.” You admit.

“Why?” He teases, brow lifted. “Seeing it on RkivedShots wasn’t enough?”

Your mouth goes slack. “How’d you know?”

“I didn’t.” His smile grows. “Now I do.”

He rolls over to the side. Looking down, he snorts at the sight of your shriveled up panties hanging on your ankle for dear life. 

With one hand, he loops the opening onto your other ankle and pulls your underwear up for some coverage. He’s sure you’re messy from below, but knowing you, you’d probably be in your head about your lack of clothing and his lack of exposure. 

How the roles have reversed. 

You turn to face him. “It was just one time,” you mumble, sheepish.

“Yeah?” He doesn’t know exactly which video you’re referring to. Hopefully not the grapefruit one. “Good to know, it’s supposed to be watched and enjoyed, so don’t worry about it.”

“Okay …” You scoot closer, his hard length pressing against your stomach. “What happens from here?”

Were you asking about his current predicament or the status of your relationship?

He tilts your chin, going with a safe answer. “World’s our oyster.” 

“Then, I want you to feel good too.” Your hand trembles as you trail down his front, stopping just shy of his metal beltloop.

Jungkook reaches down and helps you unbuckle his belt, undoing the zipper with no struggle. Hand wrapped around your wrist, he places it behind his head. “You gonna help me?”

“Did you want me to, um,” You look down, uncertain what to do. “Touch you?”

Jungkook needs something fast. Your touch is favored, but he’s unsure how long it’d take to teach you what he fancies and he’s in dire need of a quick release. Maybe next time, if there is one. He hopes there is.

“There’s other ways you can help.” He smiles. “Take off your top.”

“That’s not fair.” You protest. “Why am I the only one naked?”

Oh, you’re so predictable. Jungkook laughs, rolling you over so he straddles your hips. 

He reaches below his shirt and pulls it over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him. He doesn’t worry about the state of his body. Knows he looks good with how you drink him in, a visible swallow before you drag your eyes up his torso and end with his locked gaze.

“There. We’re even now.” 

He decides then, you don’t even need to take off your top. Just pushes it high enough to reveal your bralette. Tucking the end of your sweater underneath your chin, his mouth waters at the sight. With all the time spent as a pornstar, he’s been faced with all variations of breasts: tiny, big, saggy, lifted … you name it, he’s seen it.

Yours are perfect on you—fit you so well. You gasp when he takes one in his hand, squeezing. Your hand covers his, while the other hides your other breast.

“They’re nothing special.” You murmur to the side.

Shaking off your palm, Jungkook leans down and places a small kiss on your covered tit. Does the same with the other one. Over and over, ‘till you’re worked up again.

“They’re perfect.” He runs his tongue over your bralette, but you feel the pressure on your stiff and sensitive nipple.

Finally, he dips his hand down his Calvins and free his cock from its confinements. Knows exactly what he needs to get himself off and knows it’ll be a quick finish with your help. 

He comes back to your lips, kissing you, whispering how good he feels. You trail down his jaw and the crook of his neck. 

“You can mark me up, Pix. Do whatever you want.” He rasps, head cocked to the side for better access.

“Won’t it be a problem for work?”

A complete misconception pornstars need to come to work unmarked. If that were the case, tattoos would’ve been long banned in the adult film industry. There’s nothing a little makeup can’t fix.

“Haven’t been to work in a while and–fuck–I’m resting.” He moans, hands going faster over his length. “Please? Come on.”

Just like his first kiss with you, you tentatively move in, wet lips smooshing against his hot skin. Your tongue darts out, wetting the area before you suction your lips to his neck. When you finally pull away with a victorious grin, Jungkook knows he’s marked.

Your eyes drop below, watching Jungkook jerk himself off.

“So greedy, Pix.” He purrs, slipping into an open-mouth moan as he moves faster.

“‘m not.” You answer, unsure of what he’s referring to.

“You so are.” He chides, his grip tightening around his length. “Watching my videos, filming me … now this? Greedy, baby.”

Your thighs close around his waist, flustered from his words. “I–” He drops his head and buries his nose in your hair. Moisture gathers from his heavy and uneven breaths vibrating in your ears, and Jungkook thinks he might die when your arms embrace him.

“What was your favorite part, hm?” He grunts as he lifts his face to look at you with hooded eyes. Jungkook traces his lips on your cheek, wanting to coax an answer out of you before granting you a much needed kiss. Your eyes widen for a fraction, teeth chewing the inside of your cheeks as you build the courage to reveal your secret. 

“When you cum.” You admit. “I love watching you cum.”

Jungkook knew he was gonna finish fast, but he never expected it to happen this soon — this abrupt. He tenses and shakes as he unloads all over your exposed belly. You gasp, fingers curling around the base of his head. That only spurs him on even more, hand moving at a punishing pace to let everything go for you.

He drops his softening cock, shivering as it hits against your warm skin.

You look down at the mess on your abdomen, eyes blown out and lips swollen from how hard you bit down on it. He tucks away a strand of your sweaty locks and presses a kiss on your furrowed forehead.

“Did you like that, Pix?” He murmurs, hot breath hitting your skin.

You nod, eyes fixed on the bodily fluid. “Can I touch it?”

He laughs. “Sure. Whatever you like.”

The hand behind his head uncurls and drops down in between your bodies. He watches as your fingers swipe and collect, drawing your hand closer to your face to examine his cum.

He thinks he’ll die if you stick your fingers into your mouth to taste him. But you don’t, instead, your hand hovers awkwardly in the air like you don’t exactly know where to place it without getting cum everywhere.