#thekpopnet

Chan:

On one hand, Chan is a straightforward and competitive guy- he’s incredibly driven and he doesn’t like losing, especially when it comes to matters close to his heart. On the other hand, he’s also incredibly selfless. When he overheard Hyunjin talking to one of the guys about how adorable he found you, showing off a picture the two of you had taken together, Chan couldn’t help the way his heart sank. Of course he liked you, he’d liked you for a while and he thought he’d made it obvious to the other members by the way he always invited you to hang out with him (especially when he was buried in his laptop working until all hours of the night at his studio). But he wasn’t one to admit his feelings our right, so he couldn’t be mad at the younger member for catching feelings. 

Chan would ultimately be torn between being up front with you and admitting his feelings (which could ultimately hurt his friend) or staying quiet and potentially losing you. He’d become quieter and more tense when you were around, mostly because he didn’t want to step out of line and do something that could jeopardize either relationship. It’d be especially difficult for him because he also considered you to be one of his closest friends, and the fact that he couldn’t talk to you about the dilemma he was dealing with would weigh on him. It got to a point where you’d noticed his change in behavior, so you’d asked him if you could come by his studio to talk. Truthfully he’d considered telling you no, not because he didn’t want to see you but because he didn’t fully trust himself to not do something selfish. He’d never want to hurt Hyunjin but he feared his feelings for you were too strong and that, if given the opportunity, he might act on them. 

When you arrived at his studio, taking a seat beside him as he worked diligently on a few new tracks, it wasn’t hard to tell that something was off. His usual goofy and relaxed demeanor would be gone, and was replaced with a thoughtful and reserved version of the man you’d come to call your best friend.

*clearing your throat as you looked up at him intently, getting up the courage to break the ice*

“Chan, what’s going on...”

*not meeting your gaze as he continued to work on his computer, not bothering to remove an earbud as he replied*

“I’m fine Y/N I’m just busy that’s all.”

*sighing as you fiddled absentmindedly with your fingers*

“Did I do something wrong?” 

*frowning as he paused momentarily, turning towards you slightly without quiet meeting your gaze*

“Why would you ask that?”

*sighing in aggravation as you reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards you slightly and forcing him to meet your eyes*

“Because you won’t even look at me and I don’t know why! You’re acting like we’re not friends anymore or something and- and that really hurts, Chan...”

*sighing as his face softened, pulling his hand away and using it to remove an earbud so he could hear you more clearly*

“I’m not I just- I don’t know what to do. I-”

*shrugging his shoulders and forcing out a small, saddened smile*

“I don’t know. I think I have to accept that sometimes I can’t win, y’know? Sometimes the timing just isn’t right...that’s all I can say, really.”

Minho: 

He isn’t one to play games, or beat around the bush. That being said, he also isn’t one to take situations lightly especially when it comes to matters of his heart. He hadn’t confessed to you because, despite being sure of his feelings for quite some time, he was waiting to see if you liked him back. He didn’t want to risk your friendship if you didn’t feel the same way, so he’d been willing to play the long game- that is until he realized Felix also had feelings for you. He hadn’t out-rightly said that he was attracted to you, but Minho was quick to notice the younger’s adoring stare as you played games with him and a few of the other guys one evening at the dorm. In a way he understood it, you were particularly good friends with Felix and truthfully you were better friends with him thatn you were with Minho- but friendship didn’t necessarily mean that you had romantic feelings for him. 

After you’d left and Felix was alone in the living room, Minho wouldn’t hesitate to approach him about it- but not in an obvious or aggressive way. He had no intention of forcing Felix’s hand, or trying to come to an agreement on who should pursue you- Minho is all about the long game. It truthfully didn’t bother him that much to learn that Felix was interested in you, because you were free to choose whoever you liked. If you wanted to be with Felix, there was nothing Minho could do to change your mind. he’d be eerily calm about the situation, not because he didn’t want you as his, but because he’d rather play smart than hard.

*approaching the younger member who was sat comfortably on the couch, clearing his throat slightly before he spoke*

“You should tell (her/him).”

*giving the older man a confused stare as he looked up from his phone*

“What?”

*not moving from his position leaning up against the doorway*

“You should tell Y/N you like (her/him). You do, don’t you?”

*his eyes widening and his cheeks growing flushed as his embarrassment became apparent*

“Hyung I, how did you know that?”

*shrugging his shoulders slightly as he pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, nodding thoughtfully*

“It isn’t hard to tell...”

*frowning slightly as he thought carefully on the older member’s words*

“Do you think (she/he) likes me back?” 

“You can’t know until you ask...just be upfront.”

*in thought for a moment, scratching nervously at the back of his neck as he inhaled sharply*

“I-I don’t know, Hyung...Y/N and I are really good friends, yknow. I don’t know if I wanna mess that up.”

*his usual intimidating demeanor softening slightly as he adjusted his stance against the doorway, running his hand through his hair as he thought for a moment*

“Fine then, tell (her/him) when you’re ready. (She/He) might be gone by then, though. Are you gonna be ok with that, if she’s with someone else?”

His question was weighted, though Felix had no idea to what extent. Minho had no intention of undermining your relationship with the younger member, though he doubted he even could considering your close friendship. Moreso, he wanted to be clear with Felix of his options, without 100% admitting to his own feelings. He didn’t think it was important to be vulnerable and admit that he also had a crush on you- since it was very possible you didn’t feel the same way towards him. As long as Felix was aware that there might be others out there vying for your affection, it wasn’t relevant for him to know that his own band mate was one of those people. 

“H-hyung what are you saying?”

*shifting apprehensively as he stared at Felix with a serious expression on his face*

“I’m saying if you want a shot, take it. If you don’t...someone else will.”

Changbin:

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt a bit when he’d overheard Chan inviting you to his studio to hang out with him while he worked. He knew the oldest member well enough to catch on to the fact that he probably had feelings for you- and while it wasn’t ideal, it wouldn’t discourage him. He didn’t mind a little healthy competition and, even though it sucked that it had to be between such a close friend, Changbin isn’t one to easily give up just to avoid confrontation. He didn’t have any intention of asking Chan to step down, ultimately the decision was up to you and that was fine with Changbin. Though he had been a bit more hesitant to admit his feelings before- the sudden sense that he might lose you gave him a new-found confidence that he’d be sure to show off to you. 

His strategy was to just be straightforward and honest, if you didn’t feel the same way he couldn’t help that- but he at least wanted to try. When you came over that evening to cook dinner with all the members and enjoy the evening together- he’d be sure to pull you aside, not caring who saw.

“Is everything ok, Binnie? What’d you wanna talk about?”

*nodding reassuringly, his hold on your wrist never letting go as he closed the door behind him*

“I just wanted to see you, Y/N, is that a crime?”

*laughing playfully as you shoved his shoulder lightly, rolling your eyes*

“You saw me when we were out in the kitchen, what’d we have to go into your room for?”

*giving you a confident smile as his gaze traced every inch of your face, the pad of his thumb running across your hand that he was still holding*

“It was too loud out there, here it’s just us.”

*feeling heat rise in your cheeks as you gave him a quizzical look*

“What do you wanna say that can’t be said around the other guys?”

*chuckling slightly as he took a small step closer to you, shrugging his shoulders*

“Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to tell you that...you look really good tonight. Every night, actually...”

*your eyes widening as you became even more flushed than before, unaware of Changbin’s finger that was placed gently on the inside of your wrist- easily feeling the way your pulse quickened at his bold words*

“I-I...what?”

*raising his eyebrow flirtatiously as he continued on with his matter-of-fact tone of voice*

“I just think you deserve to be told when you good, Y/N...I know a lot of guys would probably like to be yours, I’m sure you have options. And I don’t have any expectations from you- you don’t have to say anything. We can go back into the kitchen and pretend none of this ever happened...”

*his eyes darkening as he watched the way you trembled slightly under his gaze, entranced in his words and his gentle but firm voice*

“I just want you know that...just because I’m your friend, doesn’t mean I’m not a man. Maybe it’s time you start seeing me as one.”

Hyunjin: 

Despite his confident stage persona, at heart Hyunjin is pretty shy and reserved- especially when it comes to his emotions. He’d had a crush on you for a while, but couldn’t ever bring himself to confess his feelings for you outright. He tried to make it obvious in other ways, one of his favorite things to do would be making playlists for you. He’d put so much thought into each song, insisting that it was just good music that you should check out, but the messages in the lyrics would all be subtly laced with his feelings. Unlike his subtle methods of making his feelings known, however, Jisung was much more direct and upfront. So when Hyunjin overheard Jisung talking to you on the balcony about his feelings for you- Hyunjin’s heart would absolutely sink. Jisung was one of his closest friends, despite how different they could be at times. Hyunjin hadn’t stuck around to listen to your reply or the rest of the conversation, he couldn’t be sure of your feelings but the fact that his band mate also had feelings for you (and was certain enough to act on them) would be enough to convince him that he shouldn’t intervene. Of course he wanted to be with you, and if you did end up accepting Jisung he was pretty sure it’d crush him, but he wouldn’t be willing to jeopardize his friendship with either of you. He’d still spend time with you and force a few smiles to keep you from worrying about him, but after a long night of overthinking and beating himself up for not admitting his feelings to you sooner he’d delete the playlists he’d made for you- which was the tipping point where you realized something was wrong.

You’d approached him after a photo shoot when you’d stopped by to bring the members lunch, and it wouldn’t be hard to tell that he wasn’t his usual comfortable self around you.

*talking softly so as not to be heard by the rest of the guys*

“Hyunjinnie...is everything ok? Y-you’ve been acting different recently...”

*averting his gaze as he shook his head, forcing a small smile*

“I’m not acting differently, Y/N, I’m not sure what you mean.”

*frowning as you inched yourself closer to him, looking at him quizzically as he continued to avoid your gaze*

“Yes you have been...you won’t even look at me now and you deleted the playlists-”

“They were just playlist, Y/N.”

His interjection was harsher than you’d anticipated, and it stung as the words left his lips. He’d never intended on pushing you away, he wanted nothing more than for you to be in his life- but he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to watch you fall for one of his closest friends and the thought alone was too much for him. He’d rather keep you at arm’s length, not wanting to intervene or create a confrontation. 

“W-what?”

*his eyes darting around the room, focusing on anything except your face as he tried to keep his spirits up*

“They were just songs, it’s not a big deal...” 

*and then, despite every ounce of his body warning him against saying something jealous and biting, he continued*

“You have someone else who can make you playlists from now on, right?”

Jisung: 

On the outside Jisung comes across as a very bubbly, “heart-on-his-sleeve” kind of guy- but underneath that outward persona is a much softer and more sensitive side of him. He’d liked you for a while but he’d never said anything because, truthfully, he was worried about how it might damage your friendship with all the members. You were all so close and, though there were moments where he’d almost swear you seemed to like him back, he was worried that if he acted on his feelings he’d risk ruining the near perfect dynamic you all had. It wasn’t that he’d never considered it, of course his heart ached a little every time you smiled at one of the other guys or fell asleep on their shoulder- he’d tell himself if only you were his...you could fall asleep in his arms instead. But Jisung isn’t the kind of guy to rush into a relationship, especially not with someone he considers a close friend. He’d over-analyzed and been too in-his-head a thousand times, until one very late night at the studio.

He’d gone into the studio to record some vocals with Jeongin and Seungmin, finding moments of downtime in between his parts to rest and play on his phone. Seungmind had been recording for a while at this point, as as the clock struck well-past midnight Jisung could feel himself growing tired. The younger member beside him was also visibly tired, but as he leaned over towards the older member his eyes caught a glimpse Jisung’s phone- the homescreen of which was a selfie the two of you had taken together on a trip to the beach. It could’ve just been a nice photo between two friends- but of course it was much more than that to Jisung. Maybe if Jeongin had been a little more awake he would’ve picked up on the nervous glance the older member gave him as he pulled his phone away- but instead he said something that took Jisung by even more shock. 

*leaning his head on the back of the sofa behind him as he stared up at the ceiling, his voice barely above a shy whisper*

“Hyung...do you think Y/N is seeing anyone?”

*his eyes widening as he turned to face Jeongin, giving him a confused look*

“W-why do you ask?”

*his gaze suddenly shifting to face the floor as he fiddled with his fingers apprehensively*

“I just...I know we’re good friends, but that doesn’t mean (she/he) doesn’t have other friends...maybe even a boyfriend...”

*scoffing as he turned back to his phone, trying to play off the fact that for a moment he thought the youngest member had caught him*

“Yah, why do you care about that kind of thing, hmm?”

*without skipping a beat as he turned to face Jisung with a serious expression plastered across his face*

“Because...I like (her/him).”

The instant those words echoed out across the small room, Jisung’s heart would plummet. He’d liked you for so long and now one of his closest friends- someone he considered to be his brother- had just admitted he felt the same. Despite his usual forth-coming and straightforward attitude, Jisung would stay entirely silent. If Jeongin hadn’t been so sleep-deprived, it would have been easy to read the distraught and pained look on Jisung’s face as he sat frozen in his chair. He sat there in thought for a while, falling silent for so long Jeongin almost mistook him for asleep. 

“Hyung?”

*glancing over towards him without facing towards him, worried his face would give away to many of his real emotions*

“Mm?”

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Again, there was silence. On one hand, Jisung’s heart was unequivocally yours and it had been for quite sometime, but on the other hand he would never and could never intentionally hurt one of his members. He couldn’t muster ethusiastic or encouraging words, he could barely muster any words at all, but he managed to keep himself from saying anything that he knew deep down he could no longer admit. Jeongin had had the courage to admit his feelings, and he hadn’t. Maybe you deserved someone like Jeongin- someone who wouldn’t overthink every little move...someone willing to be bold even if it felt selfish. 

“Oh...does Y/N know?”

*shaking his head as he adjusted his position on the couch, now fully laying down as he prepared to take a nap*

“No...I don’t know if I should tell (her/him). I want to...but I don’t know, maybe that isn’t the right thing to do...what do you think, hyung?” 

Before Jisung had the chance to fall into a silent stupor of his own thoughts, he felt his phone vibrate in his hand. He glanced down, only to see your name flash across the screen. If signs from the universe existed, Jisung decided that must have been one. Without a second thought, Jisung said the words that had desperately been building at the base of his throat from the moment Jeongin admitted his feelings for you. It was selfish and Jisung knew it, but in that moment knowing that it was the wrong thing to say wasn’t enough to stop him from saying it. 

“Don’t. Don’t tell (her/him).” 

Felix: 

Unlike some of the other member’s who kept their feelings very much to themselves, Felix would be pretty obvious about his feelings towards you- and it would be especially obvious to the other members. He hadn’t confessed to you outright and in all honesty you hadn’t seemed to be picking up on his subtle flirtatious hints, but the guys were quick to spot it and teased him a bit when you weren’t around. While they often encouraged Felix to be upfront about his feelings he hadn’t built up the nerve to do so. Of course he wanted to be with you, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by mistaking harmless friendship for something more. He wasn’t quite ready to put his heart on the line-- at least so he thought. 

One particular evening he’d invited you over to the dorm to cook with him, an activity the two of you often did together as a fun way to de-stress and just have a nice time. Sometimes the other guys would join you and other times it was just the two of you, but on this particular occasion it was just you and Felix-- and Changbin. 

Of course Felix never minded when the other guys hung out with the two of you, though recently they’d intentionally been giving the two of you alone time in the kitchen in hopes that Felix might confess. It seemed a little odd that Changbin had parked himself in the living room, working on his computer with his headphones in just as you and Felix entered the front door. The guys usually tried to make themselves scarce if they knew you were coming over as a subtle way of encouraging Felix to open up to you- but tonight Changbin seemed to have missed the memo. Of course the instant you saw him you’d invited him into the kitchen to cook with you and, though he seemed very reluctant, he’d begrudgingly agreed. Felix wouldn’t say anything, truthfully he always had fun with you and Binnie-- though he doubted he’d be able to open up about his true feelings with one of his closest friends around. Felix is a pretty observant person, especially when it comes to people he’s close with, and he can always tell when something’s amiss, so it didn’t take him long to notice that Changbin didn’t seem particularly interested in your late night baking. He would smile and agreeably measure out the flour like you’d asked him too, but it wasn’t hard to tell that the instant you stopped looking at him his expression would shift and the mood drained from his face. After a while in the kitchen, you excused yourself to use the restroom, and as a silence fell over the room Felix was quick to bring it up, worrying that something might be weighing on his friend’s mind. 

“Hyung, are you ok? You seem kinda out of it.” 

*shaking his head as he adjusted the baseball cap on his head, forcing a weak smile*

“Yeah, yeah I’m good...actually I should head out- I gotta go to the studio and work on some stuff but, uhh...tell Y/N bye for me, ok?”

*giving him a concerned face as he stopped the elder man, grabbing his arm lightly as he started towards the door*

“Hey, hey man I can tell something’s up, ok? For real, tell me-- you’re scaring me now, hyung. Are you in trouble or something?”

*shaking his head as he pulled his arm away from Felix’s grasp*

“I’m fine, I promise...I just shouldn’t be here right now.” 

“Wh-what, why? I thought we were having a fun time? Look if you think it’s because I was gonna talk to Y/N tonight about, y’know, how I felt or something, it’s ok! I’d rather we all have a nice time together, I can talk to (her/him) some other time.”

*inhaling sharply as he pulled off his cap to run his hands through his hair apprehensively, shaking his head as his gaze met Felix’s momentarily*

“It’s not that I just...I don’t think it’s good for me to be here, I’m just gonna head to the studio ok?”

*growing concern evident in his voice as he stopped the older man once again, worried that maybe he’d offended him or said something wrong in some way*

“Hyung seriously just tell me what’s going on?”

*snapping as he turned towards the younger member quickly, his voice sharp but still soft enough to not be heard outside the small kitchen*

“I like (her/him), ok! Is that what you wanted to hear, man? I can’t be here right now because I know how you feel about Y/N and it’s fucked up for me to even feel the way I do-- but I can’t help it and if I stay here I’m gonna do something I’ll regret, ok?!”

Felix’s face immediately fell, his eyes growing slightly wider as his once playful and teasing smile faded from his expression, leaving him looking perplexed and hurt. Changbin was one of his best friends and he’d just admitted to having feelings for you-- despite knowing that Felix had every intention of asking you to be his. He’d feel confused, hurt, and honestly a little bit betrayed-- but more than anything he’d be conflicted. 

“W-why did you tell me that, hyung...I- what am I supposed to do with that?” 

His voice was soft, barely above a whisper as Changbin stared at the floor, clearly feeling ashamed for letting his feelings slip so carelessly. 

“I shouldn’t have said anything, Lix...I’m sorry.” 

“Are you gonna love (her/him)?” The question echoed throughout the hollow room that suddenly felt ten times colder and Felix’s tone deepened as his frustrations started to slip through the cracks.

“Are you going to take responsibility for your feelings? Are you gonna show up for (her/him) no matter what-- do you really think you’re what’s best for Y/N, I mean, be honest with me!” He wasn’t yelling, his voice wasn’t carrying nearly enough impact to be heard by others outside the conversation, but he might as well have been. The bite in his tone was harsher than he’d anticipated, and by the slightly shocked look on Changbin’s face it was obvious he hadn’t expected the level of hurt Felix was clearly feeling. 

“Felix, look bro I-I wasn’t planning for this to happen, ok, I never wanted to be in this situation...”

“But we are in this situation, now, Bin...whether we like it or not.” His voice was softer now, more dejected as he stared at his closest friend, void of expression. Felix was never to fight unnecessarily, especially not with his members who he considered to be like his brothers. That being said, he had no problem being upfront about what was upsetting him if he felt it was necessary-- not holding back as he addressed the difficult situation head on. Despite his stern words, the hurt would be evident on his face as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to do in this situation-- something he never expected to be faced with. Changbin was silent for a moment, listening to the faucet turn on from the other room as the two men realized you’d be back momentarily. 

“I’m not gonna act on it...if that’s what you’re asking.” 

*quiet for a moment as he heard your footsteps echoing against the hardwood floors, turning toward his friend with a serious expression*

“Should we pretend this never happened, then? Because we can...I’m giving you a chance to take it back, and I’ll forget you ever said what you said.” 

The two paused for a moment as you rounded the corner, tapping absentmindedly on your phone without realizing the severity of the conversation happening in just the other room.

“Tell Y/N or don’t, hyung-- I can’t tell you to do...but I’m not giving up. I don’t wanna fight you for (her/him)...but I will if I have to.”

Seungmin:

There aren’t going to be a lot of words exchanged when it comes to Seungmin finding out that Minho had a crush on you. In all honesty, there weren’t a lot of words exchanged between the two of you even before Seungmin found out about Minho’s feelings-- something about you made him ridiculously shy and though he did his best to talk with you and hold conversations he always found himself blushing and stumbling over his words. Minho isn’t one to admit his feelings outright, especially not to the other guys, but Seungmin is incredibly intuitive and it didn’t take long for him to realize the older member saw you as much more than a friend. Part of it filled him with anger and frustration, but more than anyone else Seungmin would feel those things towards himself. He’d be hard on himself for not having the courage to talk to you more, watching with an ache in his chest and Minho effortlessly had conversations with you, made you laugh, and even taught you a few dance moves after practice. It was like it was effortless between the two of you, and though a part of Seungmin knew you’d have been just as friendly towards him had he extended he couldn’t work up the nerve to say something. 

It may have taken him a while to be honest with you about his feelings, but this push was exactly what he needed. He wouldn’t expect anything from you- he fully anticipated that you’d reject him, after all, he didn’t talk with you much and was more often than not caught admiring you quietly. But one late night on set for their latest photo shoot, you’d stopped by to support them and bring them food- and he’d take that moment as an opportunity to finally open up to you. He knew there was a possibility that what he was doing was really idiotic, after all, Minho might confess to you and if the two of you started dating it’d be more than a little awkward around the younger member. But even though Seungmin realized all of that, he had feelings weighing on his heart that he couldn’t keep bundled up any longer.

When you arrived at the studio where they were shooting with bags of take out from the boy’s favorite restaurant in hand, Minho was quick to help you unload everything. Seungmin watched for a moment, wondering if he’d once again lost his opportunity. But as you started walking around the set and bringing each of the member’s their food, he felt his heart skip a beat and he knew he’d have another opportunity to say something, despite the fact that his hands were shaking.

*walking up to him and smiling shyly as you handed him his take out order, looking around awkward as he appeared to have a cold expression on his face*

‘Uhm..I hope they got everything right on your order...if they didn’t you can tell me and I’ll go back and have them fix it.”

*letting a genuine smile seep through his nervous exterior as he thanked you, taking the bag from your hands*

“I-I’m sure it’s fine...thank you.”

*nodding softly as you went to walk away, feeling a lull in the conversation to be his way of asking you to leave”

Just as you took a step away from him to leave, he’d reach out and grab your wrist, his eyes just as wide as yours at his own bold action. You turned towards him, glancing between his face and his hand that was wrapped snugly around your wrist as he gently pulled you back to him.

“I-I was hoping I could say something to you, Y/N...if that’s ok.”

*giving him a slightly confused but understanding expression as you nodded*

“Uhh..sure, Seungmin...is everything ok?”

*nodding as he let go of your wrist, holding his hands close to him to hopefully hide the fact that they were still shaking slightly from the nerves*

“I...I know I don’t talk to you enough. I know you probably think I’m cold towards you, or that I don’t like you- but it isn’t true. Any of it...I-I do want to talk to you. I want to be your friend but...”

*looking away as he glanced over towards Minho on the other side of the studio and feeling his nerves spike*

“I don’t expect you to take responsibility for this, Y/N...and I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable...but I w-want to be more than your friend.”

*taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair apprehensively as he studied your face for any signs of emotion at all, but you still looked to be mostly in shock*

“I-I’m sorry I...I don’t want you to think you owe me anything, you really don’t. If you want to date someone else, I understand. I just wanted to tell you, if I’m quiet or act cold towards you...I hope you’ll understand why.”

Jeongin:

Jeongin is the kind of person who’s quick to show his emotions when he’s happy and sharing in other’s excitemen, but when it comes to his own hardships and sadness he quickly becomes closed off. Despite being the youngest in the group, Jeongin's mentality is oriented towards not burdening others with his problems-- and he especially doesn’t want to feel as though his members take pity on him. Maybe that’s why he’d never admitted to the others that he had a crush on you-- because a part of him could tell from the beginning that he wasn’t the only one to have those feelings. 

Though Jeongin can be playfully confrontational and doesn’t mind calling his friends out over small things, when it comes to actual conflict Jeongin is more soft-hearted and isn’t one to address things immediately. So when he noticed Seungmin’s cheeks tinge red every time you sat beside him, or every time you paid him a compliment, Jeongin wouldn’t have the nerve to bring it up right away. He knew Seungmin was equally soft-hearted and the two as a pair wouldn’t have much need for direct confrontation, but his lack of confrontation shouldn’t be mistaken for giving in-- because there’s no way in hell Jeongin would give up on you just because his friend liked you too.

When he’d invited you over to the JYP office where he was working on some lyrics late in the evening, his intentions had been completely harmless. The two of you often worked together on things like that, he’d tease you by saying that you were his good luck charm but you had no idea how true that really was. He always wrote more freely and from the heart when you were around, something about your presence always seemed to coax out the romantic side of him-- which proved very beneficial when it came to writing love songs. 

*checking your phone as Jeongin worked silently beside you, finding a peaceful quietude between the two of you until you came across a text message that made you laugh*

“Oh my god, Innie look what Seungmin just sent me-”

*holding the phone up for Jeongin to see, his face morphing into a tense frown as he looked over at your phone and the funny video that was playing*

“Y/N I’m busy...just send things like that to me and I’ll watch them later, ok?” 

*frowning slightly as you nodded, apologizing for interrupting his work flow*

“...only send them if they’re actually funny though.” 

He knew he he shouldn’t have muttered the last part under his breath, you wer close enough to hear him and when he glanced over at your confused expression he knew he was on the verge of saying something he might regret. 

“What do you mean? You didn’t think it was funny?” You laughed softly as you pulled the video clip back up, giggling as you rewatched it. 

“I dunno, I thought it was funny...Seungminnie always sends the funniest things.”

Maybe he would’ve let it slide if you hadn’t said that, if you hadn’t giggled the way you did, if you hadn’t called Seungmin by his pet name-- but you had. He could feel tension boiling in the pit of his stomach, a mix of jealousy and angst at the fact that he couldn’t admit on the spot that your giggle made his heart skip a beat. 

“Well if you think he’s that funny maybe you should help him write lyrics late at night instead...”

“Jeongin what does that have to do with-”

“Forget it...forget I said anything...” He interjected, fully aware of how disjointed his logic had become as he tried to maintain the frustration building in the pit of his stomach. You slid your chair slightly closer to him, your expression softening as you realized something was bothering him beyond the silly video. 

*pulling on his sleeve gently and looking at him with worried eyes*

“Innie...what’s going on?”

*inhaling sharply at your sudden touch, continuing to stare at his screen for fear of crumbling completely if he were to meet your gaze and muttering quietly under his breath, unsure of whether you could hear him or not*

“Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if you were just mine, y’know...”

♕ ♕ ♕

“think of it like this,” you’d explained, cheeks as rosy as possible and chest rising heavily and painted with a light sheen of sweat. “i’m already heated, and you’re stupidly warm anyways, so why would i want to put on any layers? that, and waking up to me naked can be your present.”

“i like to think i’m smartly warm, actually - don’t hit me,” he’d broken off in a soft chuckle, catching your hand against his own heaving chest as you tried to smack him gently. “and it’s not my fault someone went and got me all hot and bothered.”

“you are so lucky we have great sex,” you’d rolled your eyes, kicking the sheets off of your overheating body and turning your back to your boyfriend. he’d immediately turned you back over, forcing you to look at his overexaggerated pout in response to your words. you’d rolled your eyes yet again, though you couldn’t hide the adoring smile that had overtaken your expression. before he could say anything else, you’d leaned towards him, capturing his lips against yours. one of his hands had come up to cradle your face, gently guiding your mouths, while the other had trekked down your back, resting, finally on your ass before giving it a good squeeze and pulling your body closer to his. you’d snaked your arms over his shoulders, letting him pull a moan from you as he’d tugged on your lower lip with his teeth, as he’d dug his fingertips into the skin of your thighs. the concept of bliss had found a home in lee donghyuck, who in turn had become your vice. this was nothing new. 

eventually, you’d both come up for air. you’d stared at him, eyes scanning his darkened cheeks and hazy eyes. he’d given you a once over as well, not hesitating to roll his lower lip between his teeth as a show of his appreciation of all of you. 

“i’d suggest a round 2, but i’m fucking wiped,” he’d eventually said upon separation, and you’d nodded in agreement, your head burrowing against his chest, excess body heat be damned. “you’re really not going to wear anything?”

you’d shaken your head, and he’d afforded you a laugh at the tickling sensation that came from your hair scraping across his skin.

“guess i’m getting one hell of a birthday gift when we wake up, then.”

♕ ♕ ♕

“hey,” you roll over within his grasp, finding yourself nose-to-nose with him. “it might be early, but at least it’s early on your birthday.”

“right,” donghyuck hums, the hand that’s lying over you shifting so it’s firmly clutching your waist. “looks like i’ve already unwrapped my first present.”

his words have his trademark, teasing lilt to them, and you think you’d feel as if he was getting ready to devour you alive if it wasn’t for the way his eyes are absolutely sparkling. hyuck is an even mix of sharp edges - you reach up a hand, tracing his jawline softly with the pad of your index finger - and rounded curves - you run a thumb over his cheek, right underneath his eye. from the fondness in his expression, he’s seeing you the same way you see him. donghyuck pinches your hip as delicately as possible and his smile grows as yours does.

as he beams at you, you can’t help but want to keep that expression on his face forever.

you place a kiss on the tip of his nose just to watch him crinkle it, all while his entire form is bathed in morning sunlight. by this point, your thoughts have already hung a turn towards ‘sappy’, and you don’t believe you want them to hit the brakes. 

“you’re so beautiful.” donghyuck breathes, and you realize he’s beaten you to saying the words that were about to fall off your own tongue. before you can respond with a glib ‘birds of a feather’ remark, he shifts the two of you, forcing you to lay flat against his pale blue sheets. both his forearms cage your head onto the pillow underneath it, one of his knees coming up to keep his entire form balanced exquisitely above you. 

“so,” he bends to mouth along your jawline, smiling against you when you let out a pleased sigh and allow yourself to sink further into the pillow. you reach a hand up to run it over his collarbone, and he captures it easily before pressing his lips to your knuckles. once he drops it, you reach up again, though this time your grip finds light purchase in his hair.

“fucking,” donghyuck kisses into the expanse of skin above your bellybutton. he’s actively using his knee to leverage him on his descent (and, consequently, your ascent) down your body. the honey in his skintone is made even more evident as the sun’s rays wash him with warmth. if you squint, you can almost make out a halo of light resting in his hair. there’s no way for you to dwell on this, though, not as he presses chaste - too chaste for your liking - kisses over your hipbones and thighs. 

“beautiful.” hyuck finally finishes his statement, looking up at you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes before sliding fully onto the floor at the foot of his bed. he straightens up onto his knees and gives you no warning before grabbing your ankles and dragging you to him, causing you to yelp loudly.

much to your chagrin, he just laughs at your reaction, his amusement growing louder as the furrow of your brow grows deeper. before you can chastise your boyfriend, though, he places his hands on your thighs, one on each, and pulls them apart from each other. donghyuck leans in to nip gently at your inner thigh, and you can’t help the breathy gasp that escapes you.

“wait!” you cry out suddenly, causing your boyfriend to pull away immediately. he sits up, concern replacing his expession instantly.

“baby? what’s wr-” he starts, only for you to interrupt him.

“it’s your birthday, not mine. i should be doing things for you, not the other way around.”

donghyuck goes silent, and so do you, and you watch as his expression becomes unreadable for a moment. you wait two, five, ten seconds for him to speak to no avail. you’re about to sit up when he shakes his head, placing his hands back on you again.

“i promise, i’m doing exactly what - and who - i want to. i’ll even spell it out for you, if you want: you look like a literal angel or some shit in the sunlight, and if you’ll let me, i almost need to take advantage of it. it’s my birthright. birthday right?” he quirks an eyebrow in confusion at his own phrasing, though that doesn’t stop him from leaning in, his hands running idly up and down your thighs as he waits for your response.

your resolve has already weakened.

“...shouldn’t i at least make you breakfast first?” you try, though you’re already situating yourself on the pillow again. you feel rather than hear donghyuck chuckle against your skin, though you don’t miss the dark excitedness in his tone when he speaks again.

The pause is filled with your hands roaming again, his muscles contracting where you touch, anticipation and need pouring out of every gesture. With the way you do it, with the way you move your hands over his wrists, over the soft rope, caressing the ridges before descending again, he doesn’t know if the need belongs to you or him. You’re careful, the way humans are with their untainted own, but Jungkook can sense things you can’t, how the air shifts over his skin when your fingertips twitch, when splinters of control split from your foundation.

“When you get like this, you just can’t stop.” ‌Innocent eyes watch him as you speak right over his mouth, “You can’t even think straight, right? You can’t even do anything else,” you whisper, tone laced with pity and concern while your smile tells another story. Pursed lips struggle to contain his shaky exhale, though messy hips jump when your splayed fingers rest over his tip. Jungkook is not surprised when yet another bead of precum drips further into the mess he’s made over a body that screams traitorous.

“No, no–I can’t–” he stammers, struggling to form an answer cut by his heaving when your grip on his dick suddenly tightens. His head drops back against the pillow, mouth open and neck barred, “oh, please.”

“It’s for your own good. You’re so strong, baby,” you praise, marvelled at his size and strength, at how he doesn’t dare to move more, worried about breaking his restraints. “Who knows what would you do to me if it weren’t for these, mm?”

What’s keeping him there?

You’re tethering on an edge–the edge you’ve been holding him on for the past hour–teasing him about how he acts with you, how he neglects and fights against his instinct for pleasure. ‌Jungkook almost whines again when it clicks to him how easy for you he is, and it sets a new wave of heat in his loins which threatens to consume him whole. Even now his scattered conscience can’t understand you or how your words are supposed to be a command, but they sound soft and inviting like you’re pleading–God, like everything you want him to do.

“I, I’d sit how you like it–or how you like me,” he says as you stroke him, stimulation setting his nerves ablaze and he can’t think more, it’s too much, oh, he’s throbbing, “Let me touch? Please.”

“You’d ruin me,” you say with a lack of emotion, with words that carry no weight but their emptiness echoes. His head shakes frantically. “Wouldn’t even ease me into it.”

“N–no, that’s not right.”

He sobs, and he knows. Yet he loves it. Loves it so much. 

He loves how mean you can get.

You’re mean, but never demanding.

You’re never demanding or a vice that tightens around his throat and squeezes in possession, the one to reach the level of dominance he needs from you. You’re only playing with him, holding him on thin strings. The free rein he gets when he lies on your mattress is for your entertainment–he often behaves more like your puppet–your doll. Your doll, your beautiful plaything, who gets dust remnants of bruising on his porcelain jaw, who gets the softest rope tightening against his skin. A mesmerising doll, with eyes that pull you in, with arches so magnetic they urge your hands to move like silk over strong thighs.

He spreads himself as yours for the taking, yours, with moans that leave impressions beyond his exterior, all muscles, strength and intimidation. Jungkook wants to feel small and pretty–and wants you to take. He’s hungry for you to take.

“You can play innocent all you want, I won’t stop you. It suits you a lot.” The fond look you give him is enough for him to build his hopes up, to let his heart bloom as he vibrates from the anticipation. “You’re so, so handsome baby. You look like an angel.”

The haze Jungkook finds himself in clears a little, doe eyes now bringing the stars to light with the way he is staring at you. Soft, calm and curious.

“Though you don’t think like one, do you?”

His teeth clench because of how you mess with his temperature, turning him from cold to hot and back again without even trying. Always so clear-headed, always another plan, Jungkook remembers with frustration. You build the path as you move ahead in your mind without outside participation, wondering about what you’re playing with: him.

You study him often, analytical nature going so deep he worries you reached up to where he is wired, now free to twist however you pleased. At your touch, synapses rise to follow the same commands he is used to, yet the sensations you ignite remain near the same intensity. The accusation makes it worse, brings his putrid thoughts to light. Shame fills his gut and makes him arch as it mixes with the pleasure there. God, he should be used to this.

He should have had his fill long ago, but no.

He comes to your door more often than he’d like to admit. Does it when he’s upset and angry. When emotions eat at the tip of his sternum and he needs a place for isolation before everything spills out, and to you, to you out of all people.  

You, who are not a face he would have imagined sealing into his life. Neither you nor the dull colours of your apartment or the uneven surface of the carved door you pin him to. To a body with heightened senses, the colours surround and mock him, force his attention and scrutiny towards them only to come back subsided. White hues become brighter, and it gives his senses a pull before their closeness drifts apart.  

It used to be foreign to him, the switch from where he craves to rip into you when he enters your apartment and makes contact with the edge of the table. How he lets loose as soon as your hand lies softly over his throat, turning off what threatens to overwhelm him–the command of his instinct.

Even without the side which eats away at him, which begs to surrender to the instinct he was born with, the one lingering and leaving his mind in a fog, he still has doubts he’s on the right side. Because of his heart, which pulls him along to experience the most indulgent of pleasures, who is the first to change his direction. He feels helpless, yet too aware at the same time. Conscious of the corolla of characteristics he holds, shaped like a throne for his emotions to reign over–no regard for what he wants. 

Jungkook is authentic, true to his kind, yet he wishes to break away. It seems useless at times. 

No matter how much he shakes under your hands, he could never ignore his hybrid qualities–the obvious strength when he balls his hands into fists. With intention, the slightest resistance would be enough to break them, but why ruin it now, when it’s so much better to wait it out? Drag it on until he is consumed and goes back to your words, urging him to tap into who he is.

Truth is, he loves to be reminded he is one of the hybrids who show their love with their teeth, who are aware of no world beyond what they hold in their embrace. He’s no different from those who get lost in him and look at him from under lashes, who wait for his hand to lead. The realisation makes him grind into you all that more–yes, he can’t control himself.

After twenty-two years, he is sure he could live without the need to bond or mark clawing at him every chance it gets, to form his character with puzzle pieces those around him will never get back. And yet his teeth ache with it and his neck is bared uselessly in wishes you could never fulfil.

He needs you deeper. Needs you to pull the chord further, to treat him like a man and call him a little thing, to cry and bite into his neck like his past lovers begged for him to do. To continue what you’re doing now, bring him so close to the edge and hold him there until the pleasure dissolves, leaving steams of shock buried under his skin. To give more of the reflection of you which runs past your cold exterior, who pities him and talks him down when his arousal rises. 

You move so well. Know him that good and use it to your advantage. 

The more you stop, the more sensitive he gets, and the fear he had about cumming changes with every brush against his dick–he’s going to cum. He doesn’t want it to end, there’s too much left to say. 

“What are you thinking?”

“That you’re mean. So mean, fuck–” ‌he pants, soft mouth wide open, “and pretty. Pretty when you look at me like that.”

You prompt him to continue as your lips hover over his chest, “Hmm?”

“Like you feel sorry for me.” He answers short, in the same breath. “Like I wanted.”

Like everything I’ve wanted, he’d continue.

“And asked for.” You reply short and detached, careless in the face of the many times he has begged. With how you say it, the past images of his pleading are wiped out and replaced with neutrality. What he never had with you.

And how easy that makes him heat again.

“No, not everything,” ‌Jungkook shakes his head and whines when your tongue traces over his nipple before sucking a mark right under, “But I did well.”

“You do well always. Are you expecting more this time?” The way you throw it makes the compliment sting, “Is this all you care for, Kook? For me to give and give?” 

Grunting, he searches his hazy memory for a time where you seemed upset by what you give to him and comes back with his head empty. He’s been good. He takes and thanks for whatever you do to him, docile and obedient when you’re fucking him like he deserves. The setting was nothing new. You’ve made him sob, ruined his orgasms before, taking the edging from quarters to halves of an hour. And he doesn’t mind your pushing–he aches for it in reckless doses, but he can’t pretend anymore. Can’t pretend his restlessness results from what you’re doing with his body.

Jungkook’s patience wears thin at this game you’re playing with him, toying with the reins while never really gripping them. You’re aware. You’re also aware Jeon Jungkook doesn’t do halves.

“You never make me touch you,” he murmurs through bitten lips. “You don’t ask for me.”

The will he says it with is near insignificant and laced with hesitation as it comes out, but you hear the message loud and clear. He’s itching for change. Defiance. Concepts you threaded with care on, contemplated and lost sleep over, trying to make sense of what he’s asking for. He always finds his voice as he’s about to moan for you, but outside–outside he’s empty. 

The thought is acid, and it reflects on your tongue. 

“That’s it? Want me to go beg Namjoon for you?”

His breath gets stuck in his throat, and you don’t find it in yourself to care this time.

“Does your owner know how much his sweet boy misbehaves? What you do when he’s not there?”

Namjoon, he jolts. Namjoon who speaks so softly, who has the same touch as you do when he comforts Jungkook. Namjoon who is an embodiment of kindness and has the same act reflected to him from Jungkook. The same person who leaves all of his other emotions for you. 

“You have other intentions whenever you’re here.” A piece cracks, and so does the beginning. “You always come so angry.”

As if it’s a rule, he takes his first steps with anger and leaves with riddles. He dissipates when your words stray from the law of his undoing, when you try to talk to him.

“And look at him.” You laugh in disbelief. “He’s so gentle, always lets you act how you like. Waits for you and your hand… What has you like this then?” 

You sense defiance in the way his body tenses and he suppresses another whine, stretching out the roots of a baby brat. Telling you not to act like you don’t know it.

“You’re so good,” your tone shakes the slightest and his iris glimmers, pupils blown out. “Of course you are. Almost don’t have to tell you what to do.” 

Soft thighs spread over his own and you make no further move, intent on hearing him speak. Jungkook is feverish, tangled in the thoughts you’ve come to notice by the way his tongue prods at his cheek. He controls his fire. It burns in a contained circle of introversion, with its core hidden, simmering under his skin.

It only unleashes when he’s under you.

“Why?” He pulls the cord further as your fingers brush over his length, dick continuing to leak over his abdomen. “Why won’t you?” 

His passion and sincerity take him farther than anyone else you’ve met, sprung in a needle of perfection. The drive he has makes him fast, pace never the same as yours, never equal. 

You never wait for each other. 

Jungkook intertwines the fingers, pressing hard onto the knuckle to prevent movement. Defiance is a stunning picture on his features, though in your eyes brat never suited him. You’d like to go deeper, but it’s useless to compare since you can’t order him to get rid of the attitude, of the fire.  

You’re not his owner. You didn’t own anyone. You say it out loud for the reminder.

“I have demands. This is not one of them.” 

Jungkook growls, but doesn’t move. He doesn’t reach to touch you or himself but rather stays in the same position with sore arms you suppose now carry the print of fibres breaking apart.

He’s given so much choice it tangles the possibilities with each other, options which leave him immobile. His conscience reprimands, critical of a system that wants those like him subordinate to their owners. It’s the thing he sees all around him, but a hazy mind never realises the damage. 

Jungkook barely suppresses another growl. That’s what they did, why won’t Namjoon? Why won’t you? 

“Why don’t you want anything from me. Why don’t any of you.” It’s chilling how the end poses no question, and antithetical to the coldness of his words, his chest burns with anger at how desperate he is. He is desperate enough he has to ask, to belittle himself like this. 

“You think so because I don’t want you to be good,” you reply with the same ice. “I want you to stop rattling my fucking door.”

Shame mixes with anger in this chest burn, conscious–not regretful–of his past actions.

“… to stay quiet if I have my mouth on you. But you can’t, can you? Because you don’t care.” It surprises him how pleasing the accusation sounds when it rolls this smoothly off your tongue. Good, good. You’re talking–feeling. “You’re so impatient. So animalistic.” 

Animalistic. Tired. Jungkook does his best to ignore it, how he is always suppressed until he cannot take it anymore, maintaining this image of perfection which is foreign to him. Perfection which is not induced, which cannot be reached–because there was no standard. Jungkook, with a core impossible to fill with thought and emotion, needs his head clear too often. Because there’s always space left for another question, from which another path rises–leading him towards another hundredth wonder. 

He can’t talk to Namjoon about it. Can’t have him worry and question what he’s doing, how he’s taking care of Jungkook. Poor, poor Namjoon, Jungkook sighs, even at this moment when it’s supposed to be all about him. How he would react, finding out his pet is seeking comfort in someone who is nothing like him.

“Please,” he gasps, not yet registering his plea. He cannot touch you yet, so he focuses on your barely illuminated figure. 

He keeps searching for you, trying to prove something–not sure to which of you.

“Please don’t.” His voice struggles to come back to the surface. “Kiss me instead.” 

His lips part when you come close and obey him, latching yours on the sore skin of his neck. The pressure has his breath quickening and the blood vessels covered with your mouth throb before they break. Fingers bump against his abdomen when you undo the last button he didn’t rip when he entered, leaving you in your underwear. 

Your kiss reaches higher, up to his ear, his jaw, gliding until your bottom lip settles on his mole. “I can’t kiss you with your mouth like that.” 

“I know,”‌ he whines, broken as you suck another spot. “I know I have to–fuck, have to keep my mouth shut.”

“Then why aren’t you doing it? Such a shame.” Your eyes glint with the same fondness framing your face, and oh, how lovely you look when he’s giving in.

“Because I asked. I fucking asked,” he cries out, blinking away the tears. His clenched fist hits the headboard and he yelps. Whatever you do, it’s too much, something he can’t bear when he is this close, when every rough touch brings him right to the edge. “I could’ve just–” 

Mhm. He could have. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?” you pout. “But I asked you to stay quiet, and you’re making a lot of noise.” 

Your hand moves tightly across his dick for the first time, possessively–like you want to capture his sounds, his will under the skin that glides like satin over his tip. Even with his senses, before he would never consider a mere grip could make him lose all focus, lose the fight against your wish. 

He knows what you ask: for him to give in. To come back to what he is. No care, no feelings. Oh, and how tempted he is to give it up, yet there it is: the same pathos which keeps him going, which never lets him forget his anger, urging him to make you work for it. 

The will to do so however–it dissipates once your other hand lies over his throat. Wicked woman. Mean, mean woman who never leaves his thoughts, who–

Is so so good with her hands, takes care of him so well, please press harder.   

“I’m sorry, I love it so much–” His bottom lip trembles when you grip his base, sensation slowly diffusing as his hips grind onto nothing, “I love it when you shut it for me.”

“You love hearing yourself too, don’t you?” You pause to caress his tip like you would his face. “How helpless you sound. That’s why you talk so much, angel.”

Yes, yes, helpless–no wolf but a pretty thing. He nods; agreeing to it is so easy. 

“Can you take more?”

Anything.

Jungkook shakes his head, aware and sensitive and ready to burst. “I want to stop, feels so good, I can’t–”

“Why stop then?”

“Because…b-because,” he begins, but he’s too weak. The words die out.

As much as you play unaffected, heat builds in your core at how easy Jungkook puts your word above his pleasure. It’s clear why he’s holding back, but the reason he’s hesitant to say it remains blurry. Your stomach flips. “You don’t need my permission.”

Not when he could have anyone else’s.

Jungkook is delicate and boyish, with loose curls framing his face and crystal shine on his high points. He wishes for things so putrid and hangs onto your every whisper, gives it the freedom to ruin him not soon after. You couldn’t understand why he keeps searching for a tool for release in desolated neighbourhoods when not only the area he lived in but himself emanated splendour. There are plenty in power who’d welcome such a pretty face, who’d like to see him the way you do now, who’d pay to have him surrender.

“Tell me I can do it, come on, can I?”

You chuckle. And my, what manners he has, what a good boy he is.

“I can’t wait anymore, please,” he tugs once again with no real force to it. so hard to get to move, and how his stomach flips when your words ring true. Yes, he’s impatient, he can’t wait, and the frustration takes over, stifling the pleasure. It hurts his pride, his strive to perfection–the mere image of it crumbles in front of anticipation and his failed patience. Be good.

“Why do you do all of this then? All these things I like, if you just make me wait.”

Your eyes twinkle, and he hates how it does nothing but incite him further. You played this game too many times, there’s no other option.

“What do you like?”

Be good.

He blinks and grits his teeth, but he is far too gone to be anything but honest. There you go again.

“I like how you take care of me,” your heart jumps at the implication before he gets the chance to speak again.

Introverted as he is, he enjoys the moments you prompt him into speaking, profits off the outlet to put out his anger–or his begging. Hearing his pleas alone is enough to have you dripping, yet he never stops there. Mind, heart, matter: he’s too good at hitting the spots you try to keep hidden.

“…How you feel when you sit on me.”

Oh, and there’s nothing more you need than to experience it again–fuck him until the ache stops. You shift, pressing more of your weight on him while keeping focused.

“How I tell you what to do,” you grin.

Jungkook mirrors it, head falling back. “Too bad you don’t do it often.”

“I don’t own you, Jungkook.” 

“Why do this then?” 

“You asked me,” you state. The tone leaves no room for elaboration–a wave that keeps straight, unlike his rising frustration.

“I asked for other things too. Why this? Why like me so hard for you,” he pauses to hide the shard in his voice. “so desperate.”

“You’re the one letting me see you like that,” you retort as you sit over his dick, wet and inviting. “I gain nothing from it.”

“Me. Me.” He nods between words as his face settles on the nape of your neck, cheek pressed against your pulse point as if to make his point tangible. He can’t breathe.

You don’t admit–you never admit–there’s honesty in his offering. Jungkook, strong and eager, he belongs to you, from a carnal part he doesn’t share with anyone. His emotions though, they remain locked away somewhere only he knows. You don’t expect to see them anytime soon.

“You come here, you walk away. Simple.”

Good thing you have the key to his anger.

“No, that one time, I tried so hard–”  

“It’s all about taking to you, isn’t it?” you laugh, breathless and right over his bones. “I know what you’ll do. I suggest you do it tighter.”

For a moment, his mind can’t wrap around it. Around what you’re giving him.

“Come on, show me I’m right.” 

Jungkook wants to be perfect. Doesn’t want much of a choice in how it happens. You’re giving him too much. The thought is clear in his head. He wants –

your lips, which move to kiss his bound wrists, open mouth into his palm,

“Do it.”

wants you so bad.

The feeble ties which could constrain your own snap like the musical chords do at a rough press. He doesn’t register anything other than your warm skin and the lips which part so easily when he kisses you. Drive and ambition weave intentions beyond your desires, Jungkook has intentions beyond kissing–he wants to light you up.

At once, the idea to wait more dissipates as you reach between your bodies to move his cock towards your entrance, a moan escaping your throat right as he bottoms out. You try to fight it, to keep still, calm the convulsions ripping through your thighs. It proves to no use, he’s so messy he immediately disrupts your balance, knocks you over him, where you can breathe him in and swallow his moans. The moment you clench around him and grind down to meet his thrust, he breaks from you like burnt only to whimper into your neck.

“Such a bad boy,” you tut and cradle his head to keep him there, gripping his hair to pull more moans out of him as he sucks.

His sounds scream apologetic, yet his pace is ruthless, his voice rough and exhausted.

“How are you so wet,” he babbles with his eyes screwed shut. “How do you feel so good, ngh–”

How are you so good, so nurturing and condescending? He’s so deep into it he almost asks to flip you over before the switch flips and he freezes, a plethora of voices rushing to him at once. His mind screams, he’s aware of what he’s doing.

Jungkook’s touching you–gripping you like he never plans on letting go.

“My hands,” he gasps, yet his dick still rocks inside of you. “Tell me to take my hands off, why aren’t you doing it,” it rolls, attacks you as much as the following cry.

Your answer does not come. He’d listen, he’s never been surer he would. Despite that, you never try to fulfill his wish, letting him continue.

“No, I can’t, you didn’t let me–”

And yes, he realises what he’s saying, almost, and maybe another time he’d act the part, when you’re not denying him, when you’re not toying with him like this so he won’t feel guilt over how much his hands roam over your body. He’d be more patient cupping your breasts and playing with your nipples, but now he detaches fast–too fast–because he needs to grasp all of you.

“I told you,”‌ you breathe out between soft moans. “I told you.”

The words fall deaf to his ears. There are other sounds he’d like to hear–those which drive him crazy, those sounds you make when you’re selfish and unashamed and half as gone as he is. Those you make when you let him please you, taste you. He likes it when you’re on his mouth, when you tell him how to suck on your clit to have you screaming. And with the ardour he’s experiencing, It’s not long before he finds your clit and circles it so fast and messy it would be abrasive if you weren’t so wet.

You can’t do anything but shake on top of him, riding out your orgasm as his builds and builds. Detached from his body, his mind drifts to what you’ve been saying all along.

“I’m sorry, God, I’m so sorry,” he says as he grabs onto anything he can, never stopping his pace. He can’t stop, can’t understand how he’s still going.

You’re so sensitive. You have no time to recover, no time to think or breathe. A woman after Jungkook’s loins, you don’t seem to care about it either.

“Who knows you like I do?” your mouth curls and sharp teeth sink into his shoulder, mimicking the bite he’s been arching for. Jungkook gasps, loud and erratic, and his tear shoots apart his shield when it slides from the corner of his eye.

Would it be too much? Could you forgive him? He’s started well, done well as much as he could, listened to you all those times. He’s good, he didn’t misbehave, would it be so bad to succumb to his desire once? His mind, Jungkook’s mind is pliant, he’s surrendering–to you? To the sensation?

He cries and holds you like the last hope. “Please forgive me, I’m so bad.”

“So, so bad. What do I‌ do with you, pretty?”‌

“I don’t know.”‌ He’s wracked by tremors that have severed his temporary ties with reality–cut open for carnal pleasure. “I don’t know, please, it hurts.”

“Do you want it to hurt?”

“God, yes–”

“Good. Perfect. Don’t you want more?“

He nods, cupping your face with eyes open and staring right into yours. Close– he’s so close, nose brushing against yours and you’re tangled in wishes, wondering about how it would be to sense how his tears vapor and mess with the air.

“Good. Good baby. Do it then.”

Jungkook nods and licks into your mouth, pleading and grateful, with thrusts so irregular before they slow down. It would’ve had an effect on you had you been one of his own. But you’re not, and towards you, his cum doesn’t have a purpose, warm as it runs down your skin. You wish and move to wipe it, yet pristine hands slow you down when they wrap around yours. The bind didn’t even leave a mark.

Against your judgement, you run your fingers through his hair, pushing back his sweaty bangs. Jungkook catches your arm with wide eyes and heavy breath, exhales once again before resting his cheek on it. Your conscience tells you to move, but you remain still as his eyelids drop. 

It would all be so different if the two of you respected each other like friends or lovers did– the air around would have a different weight. He would look serene, a doll, with the crease between his eyebrows smoothed out and lashes. He’d leave this place with his head clear, but your attempt to go deeper has more questions flooding his mind. His body lies the same as always, open and sprawled on the mattress–but he doesn’t look serene. Not even the slightest bit.  

You meant to prove a point, knew the game and played it. After all, his patterns aren’t tough to pick up on. It would upset him more, but to his surprise, defeat doesn’t carry a heavy burden this time. He inhales normally, without hurry–there’s no stone in his chest to limit him. The difficulty comes along with admission; the action comes with the opposite. Giving in is too tempting, letting emotions consume him is too easy. Depending on you is the same. 

“I can’t keep you like this,”‌ you whisper, against the routine you struggled to create. A finger trails over the broken rope as your gaze shifts to the other side in hopes to avoid his own. “I can’t take what you give me.”

Can’t take him.

Splashes of emotion make way onto his face despite his choice to stay silent. Jungkook exhales, reaches out to touch you but stops as he gets close. The bed creaks when he raises, a complimentary sound to the sigh that leaves his mouth. Soft lips stay shut–he lets his footsteps do the talking. They happen to sync with your countdown–781, 780, 779–with passing thoughts which make you wonder which number you’ll last remember before you’re able to sleep.

There’s stability, certainty in how they decrease. 

“Are you sure you can’t?” is heard breaking through from the other room and your breath hitches. He’s loud, a poor attempt at making you hear him despite your distance. Then–a soft sentence, almost diffused before the door muffles it. 

“I’ll make an effort.”

715, 713, 712. You don’t know how you hear it.

“I’ll knock next time.” 

704…

708? 707?