Sweater Weather

Sweater Weather

pairing; jungkook x f!reader

genre; fluff

rating; PG-13

warnings; cursing, bad weather, bad friends, and just a kind koo

w/c; 1,684

a/n; just a cute lil something for my bias (if you haven’t guessed it already). like + reblog if you enjoyed. feedback is always appreciated and helps motivate this writer. feel free to send in your own requests. this is a repost from my old account.

this is part one, read part two here.

You should’ve learned by now to never trust what the weather man tells you.

“Today is going to be at a high of 88, nothing but sunny weather today, folks! Wear sunscreen!”

Yeah, bullshit.

You inwardly cursed at yourself for being so naive. Especially now that you were walking alone, at night, in the rain, wearing nothing but a cute white dress you found the other day, thinking that today would be a perfect day to debut it for the first time.

With pursed lips, and hair matted to your face, you tightened your arms around your chest as you tried your best to cover up the see through material. Looks like you were SOL when it came to people viewing your underwear, but there’s not much you can do about it now. You only hoped there wasn’t some pervert you would run across tonight. Scowl on your face, the only thing you were thankful for was wearing your chunky, white boots that are able to withstand the rain and various deep puddles you had to walk through to get to your end destination — the bus stop.

*******

Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, Jungkook’s eyes narrowed into slits as he stared at the rain that was pouring down around him as he stood underneath the bus stop shelter.

He realized the hard way to never trust a drunk friend to secure you a ride home.

So there he was, at almost 11 o’clock at night, shivering his ass off. His breath came out in puffs of smoke, before disappearing into nothing. His glasses kept fogging up from the humidity of the day despite there being rain. And he waited, for the one friend he could trust to pick him up so late at night, his roommate.

Out of his peripheral, he could see something white appear from the harsh cover of the rain. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t only semi panicking, imagining that he was seeing the ghost of a ‘white lady’. He swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing due to the action, shrinking in on himself in hopes of not being seen by the white specter.

Just as he did so, did the figure suddenly pick up it’s pace towards the bus shelter and him.

Oh shit.

*******

Squinting through the rain, as the rain drops lashed at your skin in piercing waves, you finally saw the end in sight. Not noticing the figure in all black, you practically sprinted the rest of the way to the bus shelter and only hoped you hadn’t missed the last bus ride home. That would’ve been the perfect end to your already perfect day, you thought sarcastically.

Upon making it underneath the awning, you finally closed your eyes and let out a sigh of relief. As much as you loved your boots, they were not meant to be worn for such long distances, and your feet were killing you. Unable to stop shivering, you bit on your bottom lip to prevent the chattering of your teeth that you wanted so badly to do.

Jungkook let out his own quiet sigh of relief into the confines of his hoodie when he realized that the white figure was actually just another victim of the unsuspecting weather. And definitely not a ghost, as far as he knew. His nose scrunched at the aforementioned thought, lip ring rising with his lips, and brows raising into his hairline, as a shiver of his own went down his spine. Nothing like how your poor body was shivering, however, which made Jungkook glance at you out of worry.

Further inspecting your shaking figure, he noticed your white dress was soaked through, as his ears turned red and cheeks became tinted a light pink. He’s a guy, and you’re attractive, what do you expect?

Suddenly feeling guilty about being warm in his hoodie, he came up with a solution.

He would give you his.

He just hoped that you didn’t find it creepy.

*******

You tried your best not to stare at the lone, all black, figure next to you, who you envied for being smart enough to wear or bring an article of clothing to help rid of the rain and still stay warm.

Not one for small talk, or speaking to strangers in general, you didn’t offer anything other than silence. Better to be cautious, than taken advantage of, you like to say.

It was a light tap on your shoulder that shook you out of your depressive reverie, making you turn your head at break neck speed towards the silhouette next to you, fists raised even though you knew for a fact you had no idea how to fight. His hands rose in defense, as he stuttered out his reasoning for breaking your personal bubble in a haste.

Your eyes softened when you saw he was holding out his hoodie towards you with an extended hand that you could see was adorned with various tattoos, no longer wearing the warm hoodie himself.

“Sorry,” he smiled at you sheepishly, cheeks tinted a light shade of red. “I should’ve said something, instead of just tapping you. My bad. But uh, here–,” not wanting to invade your personal space even more, he just opted to slightly, and awkwardly, bend his body towards you as a way of extending his arm out further, the hoodie now dangling in front of your chest. “You need this more than I do.”

“Are you–,” your voice cracked, from not being used in awhile, which made your own cheeks become tinted and mirror his. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah! Do you mind if I–,” still in his awkwardly, bent position, he opened the hoodie up enough for you to easily slink your head and arms inside. A situation you happily took advantage of.

You couldn’t help the way you sighed loudly in content, your body now encased and drowning in the kind strangers large and long hoodie. The end of the sweater reaching far pass your knees, making it look as if you’re wearing nothing but the hoodie. Immediately, you inhaled the musky, yet comforting aroma with closed eyes and smiled for the first time since it started to rain.

Opening your eyes, you turned your body to the big hearted, or just morally correct, male in front of you. Underneath the hoodie they wore just a plain, white, long sleeved shirt. A tiny logo rested above the heart that you couldn’t quite make out, but you had no doubt in the tight, black, skinny jeans he wore, that he was now just as cold as you were, if not worse.

And now it was you who felt bad.

Seeing the conflict in your eyes, Jungkook lifted his phone up in front of your face to show you a notification he just received. It was his roommate letting him know that he was five minutes out and would see him soon.

“My friend is going to be here any second, so I won’t need it. Don’t worry about me, okay?” His warm smile melted you, and made your whole body heat up with his gentle tone. It was funny that he was trying to console you, and not the other way around.

It was nice to feel cared for, even if it was by someone you didn’t even know.

Sure enough, right on schedule, headlights blared through the rain to stop in front of the bus stop. It was the mystery male’s ride home. You don’t know why, but your heart sank into your stomach upon the fact that soon you’d be left alone underneath this bus stop, and would no longer be in the company of the stranger.

Looks like the male shared the same sentiment, as a small smile appeared on his face. Sucking his lip between his teeth, he went to offer you a ride home, yet stopped himself when the tall tale sign of a bus honking caught his attention.

Your eyes widened at the sudden sound as well, and you two stared at each other with bated breath. His friend rolled down the passenger window from the drivers side and leaned over to yell at the male in front of you, voice laced with impatience.

“Yo! Jungkook! Hurry, man! It’s raining cats and dogs, plus the bus is going to need to park here. Let’s go.”

Jungkook made the split second decision to step closer to your no longer shaking form, which for that, he’s grateful to have helped. Pulling a pen out from his back pocket, one he kept on him along with a small notebook incase inspiration struck him for lyrics to a new song, he gently held your wrist to pull the sleeve of his hoodie up enough to write on your arm.

Giving you the ‘call me’ sign with his hand, a sideways spin off of the surfer’s sign, accompanied by a cheeky wink, he hunched over with one arm over his head to attempt to shield the rain that still kept pouring down without remorse, yanking the car door open to clamber inside and sit in the passenger seat, swiftly slamming said door once he was fully in. The action making his driver friend scold him, but he didn’t pay any mind.

Waving at you with a bunny toothed grin, as he adjusted his glasses back onto his nose, the car sped off as the window slowly began rolling back up, and you watched until you could no longer see the reflection of the taillights that bounced off the street lights in a rhythmic pattern.

As the bus came to a full stop in front of you, the doors swinging open with an airy ‘swoosh’, you looked down at your still uncovered forearm with a coy smile and read the hastily scrawled note he wrote, and miraculously fit.

Jeon Jungkook

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

Call me so I can get my hoodie back and a date with you

Pls and thank you ;)

PS - Unless ur a ghost, then u can keep it

Sinful Lust | ch 4 (myg & jjk)

☆summary: Jungkook has been living his life like he's riding a car, and he sees a wall looming closer. Will he hit, or will he find a way to avoid the collision?

☆pairing: bisexual boyfriend!Yoongi x female!reader x Jungkook

☆rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

☆genre: mostly smut, angst, snippets of life!au

☆warnings: cursing, jealousy, a flashback to how it all started five years ago, alcohol, mention of social anxiety, some sort of cheating?, explicit content: unprotected sex, jerking off, tied hands/bondage ish?, oral sex (male and female receiving, male on male, male on female), face riding, mouth fucking, choking, hair pulling, anal sex, cumshot, protected sex, sexting, nudes, a side of degradation?, facetime sex, ass slapping, guided sex, creampie

☆word count: 8.6k

☆a/n: Jungkook pov time babyyy! I hope you will love it <3 Thank you to @moonleeai as always for beta-ing this fic <3

☆a/n pt2: I do not own BTS or any of the members. I do not know what they are like irl (I do not claim to know their personalities, sexual orientations, beliefs, etc.). This fic is just a work of fiction, so please keep that in mind while reading

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

                Each time he’s with you and Yoongi, Jungkook has a hard time figuring out why, or how. Especially right now, as he lies under you while you fuck yourself on him.

He watches your breasts as they bounce on your chest, watches the light sheen on your skin from your sweat. Yoongi is jerking off next to Jungkook, and he can’t help but glance at that too – Yoongi’s frowning, mouth slightly open as he grips his cock hard, pumping fast.

Your walls clench around Jungkook’s dick, and he returns his attention to you as he grunts and you let out a moan, bending forward to rest your hands on his shoulders for leverage. Jungkook lets you do it, though he tugs at his restraints, his cock twitching as his hands are held back in place.

It was Yoongi’s idea to tie him up. At the mischief lighting up your gaze, Jungkook hadn’t been able to say no, and frankly, he doesn’t think he regrets his decision.

It started with Yoongi sucking his dick while you sat on his face, and Jungkook can still taste your sleek juice in his mouth. It’s inebriating, and he thinks he’s drunk – or perhaps he’s just swimming in ecstasy. Even if Yoongi fucked his mouth after that.

Jungkook doesn’t particularly enjoy the bisexual action he’s been partaking in with you and Yoongi. He doesn’t dislike it, but he doesn’t feel any sexual attraction to it. He doesn’t think he would touch Yoongi if it wasn’t for your begging eyes. But whenever you look at him, whenever you tell him to do something, Jungkook folds, unable to tell you no.

He’s convinced Yoongi’s caught up to it, yet it seems you’re still lost in the fog of oblivion. Or maybe the three of you are just too good at pretending that it’s not there, that he didn’t say yes to this whole ordeal just because he gets to fuck you.

You clench again, this time moaning his name, and Jungkook has the visceral need to pull you flush to his chest so that he can thrust into you just like he likes. Tugging at the restraints proves to be useless, and he lets out a frustrated groan even as you pick up your pace, visibly chasing your orgasm.

It’s hot. It’s fucking hot and Jungkook feels his balls tighten, though he reins it in – he’s not going to come yet.

Your right hand shifts to his neck, and then you’re choking him, though your up-and-down motion grows sloppy, as if you have trouble focusing. And you barely choke him – you were just looking for leverage, he assumes.

“Bend down,” he tells you. “Fucking bend down, I’ll make you come.”

At his words Yoongi grabs a handful of Jungkook’s hair, forcing his head back. But you do bend down, and Jungkook braces his feet on the mattress so that he can fuck into you. He sets a relentless pace, meeting Yoongi’s gaze as you moan into his neck.

Perhaps that will be enough to make him come after all. Because he knows your Yoongi’s. Knows he’ll never have you any other way. But when you cling to him like you are doing right now, Jungkook likes to believe that you’re his, too.

He knows you’re coming the moment your orgasm crashes into you, and he doesn’t relent, doesn’t slow down. You moan against his skin, and Yoongi pulls on his hair harder, and Jungkook thinks maybe he’s coming too.

He keeps it in at the last second, his balls hurting from the denied orgasm. But he doesn’t want to come in such a subdued position – he’ll fucking ride you until you cry from the pleasure before.

He slows down, and you slump against him, your sweaty skin feeling like heaven against his. He’s still looking at Yoongi, who’s still pumping his cock hard, though he finally lets go of Jungkook’s hair. Nothing happens for a moment, until you raise your head from his neck, and then Jungkook meets your gaze.

Your cheeks are flushed red, your pupils are blown wide and you look so fucked out he feels his dick twitch inside of you. At that you moan again, and the pain in his balls increases even more because fucking hell does he need to come soon.

You smirk. You smirk and Jungkook thinks he’ll go insane. Especially as you push up from him, and then his dick leaves your velvety walls as you move to the side. You grab his cock, jerking him slowly, and Jungkook looks down at himself.

He’s covered in your juice. You came on him – a lot – and now you’re using it as lubrication to jerk him off and he doesn’t know right from left and up from down anymore. He’s insane – you’ve brought him right to the land of insanity.

“Gosh,” you let out, and he focuses on your face again, though you go in and out of focus as his orgasm is still so close. “I’ve soaked your dick so much you could fuck Yoons like that.”

The orgasm recedes, and Jungkook remembers that he’s not alone with you. That Yoongi is here, and he’s been deprived of attention for a while. Jungkook does feel bad about it a little, but then again, your hand on his dick just feels too good.

Yoongi murmurs your name, adding, “Don’t push his boundaries.”

You bite your lips, holding Jungkook’s gaze with a searing look in your eyes. “Would you fuck his ass if I ride your face again?”

Jungkook is at a loss for words. Especially as you bend down and spit on his dick, adding lubrication to his already soaked cock.

He thinks you’re jerking Yoongi off too now, because Yoongi groans and you let out a small laugh.

“I fucking love having the two of you for myself,” you say.

And that’s when Jungkook knows he’ll say yes. He doesn’t even care that it’s Yoongi’s ass as Yoongi sinks on him a minute later. All he’s looking at is you, and Yoongi’s ass is so fucking tight Jungkook thinks he might not get to fuck you into oblivion after all.

Yoongi moves up and down, slowly, and Jungkook grunts as you wrap your hand around his neck, choking him again. And then you force him to look at Yoongi, who’s got his head thrown back and dick so hard Jungkook feels like Yoongi’s going to come on him in just a few strokes.

You’re the one that reaches out to grab Yoongi’s dick, and you start jerking your boyfriend off as he keeps fucking himself on Jungkook. Jungkook watches, unable to do anything else, and when Yoongi’s ass clenches on his dick Jungkook closes his eyes.

He doesn’t want to see Yoongi coming on him. Doesn’t want to think about the fact he’s got a man on his dick right now, and not you. He just wants to feel how fucking tight it is, and how the drag on his dick is so sinful he knows he will come.

He’s turned on. He’s so fucking turned on by the tightness of Yoongi’s ass that he pulls at the restraints, once again trying to take control. But he can’t. He can’t, yet Yoongi bends forward somehow, and Jungkook’s mind fills with so much ecstasy from the new angle that all he can think to do is to start hammering his hips into his friend.

He comes first. He comes as he’s fucking Yoongi so hard everything hurts, and then Yoongi is coming on him, while you praise the two of them. Jungkook almost forgot that you were there, but then when he opens his eyes, it’s you that he sees first.

Perhaps because Yoongi’s hiding his face in his neck, just like you were doing earlier. And seeing you so close makes Jungkook’s orgasm linger, his dick twitching in Yoongi.

You bend down, catching Jungkook’s mouth in a languid kiss, and he kisses you back with everything in his chest, not caring that he emptied his balls in your boyfriend just a moment ago. Not when you kiss him like that – like every swipe of your tongue on his is a hidden message, of feelings shared even though they shouldn’t be.

Yoongi moves away from Jungkook as you’re still kissing him, and Jungkook tries to hold you, to cup your cheeks, but his hands still don’t move from where Yoongi tied them up. He pushes his tongue in your mouth still, lapping you up, and right when he thinks he’ll die from the lack of oxygen, you pull away from the kiss.

It takes Jungkook a moment to realize that Yoongi is gone. You’re looking towards the door, and Jungkook is still just watching you, and something hurts in his chest. He clears his throat to push it away, which gains him your attention again.

“Can you untie me?” he asks, voice still a little scrappy from when Yoongi fucked his mouth earlier.

You nod, and he notices you gulping. Something’s wrong. Something definitely is wrong between you and Yoongi, and Jungkook feels sick and twisted for it.

“Sorry,” you apologize as he mindlessly massages his shoulders, which started to ache a while ago from staying in that position for so long.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook tells you, and then he glances at his stomach. At his dick, that’s softening on his pelvis.

He’s covered in cum. Both his and Yoongi’s, and even yours from before all that. The sight nearly makes him gag, and he motions to the box of tissues on the night table.

“Can you pass me these?” he asks.

You don’t answer, though you grab a handful of tissues. Jungkook makes to grab them from your hands, but you start cleaning him up. He almost gulps from the attention, from the care in each of your motions, but he focuses on looking towards the door.

He doesn’t even know if he wants Yoongi to come back. Just that it feels weird that Yoongi left so quickly.

“Is something wrong?” you ask him, and he frowns, looking back towards you.

“No,” he answers. And though he doesn’t want to pry, he returns the question to you.

You finish cleaning his stomach before you move to his dick, and it feels a little strange to have a serious conversation with you while you’re cleaning up his dick, but then again, his entire relationship with you is weird.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I guess.” You shrug. “He doesn’t tell me how he feels anymore.”

You look so sad saying the words that Jungkook feels his heart breaking in his chest. He’s been expecting this since the very first time he had sex with you though. The moment when it’d create a wedge between you and Yoongi, or between Yoongi and him.

“Oh,” he lets out. He chews on his lower lip, tongue darting out to play with his piercing. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug your shoulders again. “Don’t be.” You fall silent, eyes trailing to the doorway. You take a deep breath, and then softly let it out, shaking your head slightly. “Let me just go talk to him.”

Jungkook remains silent as you get up, and he looks away from you as you put on your clothes. And he feels far too awkward staying in your bed without you and Yoongi, so he gets up too, grabbing his clothes. He puts them on quickly, feeling the need to leave as fast as he can.

He’ll hate himself if your relationship goes to hell because of him.

So he puts everything on and then tiptoes to the front door. He curses himself when he has one of his shoes on – he left his motorcycle helmet in the kitchen. He glances in that direction – is that where you and Yoongi are?

He doesn’t want to interrupt a conversation between his friend and you.

But he needs the helmet. Can’t drive his motorcycle without it. So he kicks off his shoe, before walking towards the kitchen, slowly, even though it is entirely silent. He passes in front of the bathroom on the way, and there, he hears voices from behind the closed door. Muffled and low, clearly meant for you and Yoongi only, so Jungkook moves away, towards his helmet that he can now see on the counter.

He grabs it, spins on his heels to head back to the door, but he startles at the sight of Yoongi standing there.

“Oh, hyung,” is all Jungkook can think to say.

“You’re leaving?” Yoongi asks.

Jungkook’s gaze widens, not really knowing how to reply. “Uh…” He gulps. “I figured it would be better to leave you and Y/n alone…”

Yoongi nods, sighing, and his eyes close momentarily before he looks at Jungkook again. “Sorry about this.”

“About what?” Jungkook asks, and he feels stupid for the question, but it just slipped out on its own.

“Making things awkward,” Yoongi explains. “I guess… I guess I should have asked that you guys don’t…” He stops speaking again, and this time he scratches the back of his head. Jungkook remains silent, giving Yoongi space to collect his thoughts. When he finally does, Yoongi says, “I don’t like you guys kissing like that? I told Y/n, and we’re going to add it to the ground rules.”

Jungkook’s heart squeezes in his chest, yet he still nods, not wanting to hurt his older friend. Especially considering that Jungkook is the guest in this whole scenario, and not Yoongi.

“That sounds good to me,” Jungkook answers, even if every word pains him. “I’ll stop.”

“And the pet names too,” Yoongi adds. “Don’t call her baby.”

There’s possessiveness in Yoongi’s tone, and Jungkook bristles a little, though he forces himself to nod. “Sure. I’m…” he trails off, eyes falling to a spot on the floor between him and Yoongi. “I’m sorry.”

And he does feel apologetic. Guilty, even. But you’ve become a drug that he can’t get enough of, and if he has to stop doing these things to be able to still get a taste of you, then he will.

“Don’t be,” Yoongi says, and he sounds reassuring. Far more than Jungkook expected him to be in the situation. “Don’t ever feel sorry. We invited you in our relationship. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me for not setting my boundaries more clearly.”

At that Jungkook feels jealousy taking shape inside of him. Because Yoongi will get to kiss you, to hold you, to be yours when Jungkook will always just be the guest. But the kisses and pet names allowed him to pretend that, for just a short period of time, you were his. And now he has to let them go, to let the feeling of your lips against his be just a memory. It hurts somehow, which he reckons is stupid.

He doesn’t usually get attached to the women he fucks. But you’re different.

You’ve been different since the day he met you.

“If you want to stay for the night, you can,” Yoongi says in the silence that was stretching to the point of awkwardness. “Guest room is yours, as always.”

And though he usually always stays the night, Jungkook feels the need to be alone. To ride his bike, to eat the road and feel the wind and forget about his thoughts for a moment. So he declines the offer, feeling strange as Yoongi walks him to the door.

He wishes you’d come say goodbye, but you’re in the shower from the sounds of it. He feels guilty for leaving like this, but then again, the night sky and the streetlights are awaiting outside, and it’s going to be much needed therapy.

“Thanks for the invitation,” Jungkook says once his shoes are on and he’s checked his pockets to make sure he has everything.

“Of course,” Yoongi answers, flashing a strained smile.

Jungkook wants to ask if his friend is okay. If he wants to stop this madness altogether, but he can’t bring himself to ask.

It’s like he’s watching a car crash into a wall, or the moments before the accident. He knows it’s about to happen, but there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

“We’ll let you know when we want to see you again,” Yoongi adds when Jungkook just stays standing there.

The dismissal is clear, and Jungkook nods his head once before wishing good night to his friend. Yoongi tells him to drive safe and text him when he’ll get home, which Jungkook knows he won’t do.

Perhaps because he knows he won’t go home for a while still.

And he doesn’t. He rides in the night, aimlessly, going out of the city with only the moon high above as company. His bike roars like a beast under him, eating mile after mile until trees replace concrete, until he has to stop at a small gas station that looks straight out of a horror movie to fill the tank. The weather outside has been growing warmer, but the night is cold, and the moon has been lowering on the horizon, replaced by a sea of distant stars, each of them sparkling with all the might of their own little world.

If only you knew what you mean to him. But you’re like the stars up above – out of reach, for the eternity of life. And though he’d wished to be an astronaut when he was a kid, Jungkook knows he’ll never get to sail in the sky above, to meet you in outer space meant to belong to you and him. Not to you and Yoongi.

The thought has him climbing on his bike again, and it roars back to life as he turns the key in the engine. A second later he’s back on the road, and he doesn’t even care about where he’s going. Doesn’t even care that he might get lost, because he’s felt lost for weeks anyway.

With the wind and the stars as his lone companions, Jungkook rides through the night, seeking salvation. Seeking to forget he ever said yes, to forget that the second he felt you on his dick, he knew no one else would ever compare to you.

But he’s always felt this way. The night sky is too pretty to dwell in memories though, and Jungkook stops where the road meets the sea, only to listen to the waves hitting the shore like they’re keen on forming their own melody. It’s different than the one of wind in his ear, yet it’s peaceful.

Everything but his heart seems peaceful in the night. So he breathes the saline air in, lets the mist from the waves hitting the rocks cool his features, and with eyes shut Jungkook takes everything in.

And when peace finally finds his heart too, somewhere between his inhales and exhales, Jungkook climbs back on the motorcycle and heads home.

*****

If there’s someone Jungkook knows he can talk to, it’s Namjoon. His older friend, brother, a calm presence in his life whom he’s sought the help of countless times in the past. Whenever his blood ran cold or hot from fights he won or lost in the past, whenever things don’t quite work out the way he’d hoped them too, Jungkook always knows Namjoon will be there for him.

So when Namjoon invites him over to his art gallery for a small gala he’s hosting for charity, Jungkook says yes. Because he knows he’ll likely be the only one of the friend group invited, mostly because he is some sort of a celebrity to begin with. And though he doesn’t mind people knowing him for his boxing career, he also doesn’t want to just be seen as this brute that only knows how to punch other people.

Namjoon knows it, and understands it all too well. Perhaps because he was a boxer once too before he turned into an artist.

So Jungkook dons a nice outfit, a black all-denim jean and jacket combo that he was given while shooting for Calvin Klein again a couple of weeks ago. He knows he’s going to stand out in the crowd of nicely-dressed art enthusiasts, but he doesn’t care.

Maybe if he stands out enough, he’s going to attract the attention of someone that can make him forget you riding his dick like you only have one night left on this Earth.

As soon as he gets to the gallery, Jungkook heads in, motorcycle helmet in hand. He aims for Namjoon’s office, which he knows the lock password of, and he leaves his helmet there before heading into the gallery proper.

He assesses the room for a moment, anxiety spiking in his blood at the sight of so many people crowded in a place that seems like it’s about to burst. He’s not surprised – Namjoon is a renowned painter now, and rich people flock to him like moths to a flame hoping that they would get the chance to buy one of his pieces.

Jungkook stays by the door, hands in the pockets of his jeans as he scans the gallery, trying to figure out if anyone would be worth his attention. He notices a woman that looks about his age, if not a little older. She’s wearing a red dress that enhances her curves beautifully, and her long hair cascades down her back as she turns towards him, a knowing smile on her lips. Jungkook returns the smile and he’s about to head her way when Namjoon comes into his vision.

“JK!” Namjoon lets out, happily clasping his shoulder. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Jungkook watches the girl as she winces, but then she turns away, walking towards where a group of rich sons are speaking. Maybe she’s here as the date of one of them. Jungkook reckons he doesn’t care because, frankly, even donned in that expensive dress she doesn’t look half as good as you look wearing just a t-shirt.

“Namjoon,” Jungkook returns, forcing his disappointment away, along with the feelings you always bring up in him. “This place is about to burst.”

“I didn’t expect so many people to show up for the charity,” Namjoon admits as he too scans the room. “But it’s all for the better!” He grabs two glasses of champagne from a server passing by, handing one to Jungkook. “We better drink before it starts because it promises to be long.”

Jungkook nods, clinking his glass with Namjoon’s before taking a long sip. The golden liquid bubbles in his mouth, and though Jungkook prefers whiskey, he does enjoy the taste as it slips in his throat.

“Got a lot of pieces on auction tonight?” he enquires as his friend knocks back the whole glass, never one to entertain a glass of champagne for more than a few seconds.

Namjoon wipes his mouth with the back of a hand, nodding curtly. “Five. The rest were provided by promising artists from the community.”

Before they can say more, a group of people approaches them, and Jungkook forces himself to participate in the conversation, offering them smiles and nods and a word here and there. It goes like this for a while, until someone ushers the room into silence so that the charity can properly start.

Jungkook slides to the back of the room, fishing a flask from an inner pocket of his jacket. He takes a swig of it, the strong taste of whiskey washing away the taste from the champagne he drank before. It’s a thankful respite, and Jungkook finds an empty wall to lean against as the auction starts.

It takes all of six minutes before the red-dress girl heads his way, meeting him away from the rest of the crowd.

“You’re not going to auction?” she asks as an introduction.

Jungkook shrugs, flashing her a smile. “Are you?”

She chuckles, and it lights up her eyes prettily. “I don’t think I’m here for this kind of prize.”

And just like that Jungkook knows exactly in what category she belongs. It might be harsh of him, but he recognizes her for what she is – someone that’s only trying to climb the social ladder, hoping that being a socialite might bring happiness into her life.

He might not have a lot of money to offer her, but for a night…

They’re fucking in the bathroom before he’s actually had the time to think this through. The condom on his dick feels like hell, keeping most of the sensations away, and she doesn’t feel quite as tight as you always do. As Yoongi’s ass did… Yet Jungkook only pushes her head down in the sink, watching how she’s grasping onto the edges of it, moaning unabashedly loud. The bathroom is far enough from the auction that Jungkook isn’t afraid to be heard, but he still puts his hand on her mouth, stifling her sounds.

And though he does find release, he realizes that it’s more of the haunting kind. As if his balls are still full, the ecstasy shying away from him. It only leaves him with a bitter aftertaste in mouth, and he declines the girl’s invitation to a hotel nearby.

As he watches her leave, he realizes that he doesn’t even know her name. And he doesn’t care for it. All that he cares for is to return to the auction, which thankfully is almost over. He listens to it in a daze, hoping that people can’t tell he just fucked someone, hoping that they can’t see the ghosts haunting him.

Namjoon sees them the moment the auction ends, and Jungkook tries to slip away in the night. Indeed, his older friend catches him in the office as he goes to retrieve his helmet, much like Yoongi had caught him that night when he’d established new boundaries.

“I hope you’re not leaving right away,” Namjoon says as he heads to a decanter on a small table by a bookshelf. “Just sold a piece for a billion won, and I need someone to celebrate with me.”

“This is hardly the first time you’ve sold a piece for that amount of money,” Jungkook reminds his friend, but he still puts the helmet down, heading for the leather seat on one side of the desk.

Namjoon pours whiskey in two crystal glasses, handing one to Jungkook before he sits on the other side. “I still never get used to it. Thanks for coming tonight.”

“Of course, man,” Jungkook answers.

He takes a sip of the whiskey, a much more expensive one than the one that’s hidden in the flask in the inner pocket of his jacket.

“Something’s been troubling you,” Namjoon comments after a small silence of both of them appreciating the whiskey. Jungkook remains silent, not knowing what to say. After a while, Namjoon says, “I invited Taehyung and Seokjin, but they were caught up at the restaurant.”

Seokjin’s restaurant. Where Taehyung and his jazz band play every now and then, offering live music to the patrons, and helping Taehyung get a good amount of listens on Spotify. Because Taehyung’s voice is smooth velvet, and Jungkook already can see his friend climbing the ladder to success.

“What about Hobi?” he can’t help but ask.

“His girlfriend was super sick, and he asked if I minded him staying with her.”

Jungkook thinks about Ryunah, and he makes a mental note to send a text to Hoseok later to make sure that the girl is okay. Because she’s his friend too – Hoseok has been dating her for so long that she’s become an integral part of the friend group too.

“And Yoongi said it was going to be too many people,” Namjoon adds.

Jungkook immediately bristles at the mention of Yoongi, and Namjoon cocks an eyebrow, never one to miss anything. Jungkook tries to play it cool by taking a swig of whiskey, but he highly doubts that it works.

“Yoongi is an introvert,” he says carefully.

Namjoon purses his lips, nodding once. “Are you still…”

He’s told Namjoon after the first time it happened. In a situation much like this one, though a lot more alcohol had been involved. So much that Jungkook had ended up spending the night on the couch of Namjoon’s loft, which lies on the third floor of this building.

“Once in a while,” Jungkook says, and he hates how his voice is clipped.

He knows he wears his emotions on his sleeve for all to see, and fuck he hates it.

“How has that been going?” Namjoon carefully asks.

Jungkook winces. He knows he can’t escape the truth, especially not when he’s speaking to Namjoon. “It’s fun. It really is, but I think it’s driving Yoongi and Y/n apart.”

“And what about you and Yoongi?”

Jungkook gulps, eyes falling to the desk between him and his friend. He doesn’t really know how to answer that question: he’s always seen Yoongi like a reliable older brother, someone that offers a helping hand when he needs it, but now he doesn’t feel like Yoongi would be inclined to help him all that much anymore.

Then again perhaps that’s not giving his friend enough credit. Because Yoongi knows about Jungkook’s crush on you, has known since the very first day, and he’s still been a good friend to Jungkook. Even if that very first night, Jungkook believed that you were meant to be his.

Some foolish, stupid part of him will always believe it.

*****

Five years ago

                The bar is filled to the brim with people who’d come to watch the Olympics on the big screens. Jungkook is squeezed in one corner, Namjoon sitting so close to him he’s been trying to mold himself into the wall to try to get some air. It’s not Namjoon’s fault – the bar really is too crowded, and they’ve been lucky that they’ve found a place to sit amidst the chaos.

Yoongi is seated across from Jungkook, Taehyung next to him, and Seokjin and Hoseok went to get a new pitcher of beer at the bar. Jungkook glances in that direction, trying to see his friends. They aren’t there, probably headed to the toilet first, yet Jungkook’s gaze catches on something. Or rather on someone.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone as beautiful as you. Maybe he’s still concussed from his latest fight, though he was the one to come out of it as the victor. Had been the one to win every fight for a while, he reckons.

But you’re an angel brought to life. Beautiful hair framing your face, big eyes taking in the bar as if you’re waiting for someone. From the distance it’s hard to tell the color of your eyes, yet Jungkook thinks they are boring right through his soul as you meet his gaze.

The corners of your lips stretch in a mindless smile, as if it’s a reaction, and Jungkook thinks he’s been brought down to his knees. It hits harder than an uppercut to the jaw, and he can’t help but smile back, though he feels clumsy and young and stupid.

You look away, and he thinks he stumbles forwards, thinks he’s sprawled on the floor when Yoongi says, “Should we go get that fucking pitcher ourselves? I think Jin and Hobi went for a smoke.”

Jungkook meets Yoongi’s gaze, eyes slightly widened. Yoongi cocks an eyebrow in question, immediately noticing Jungkook’s state.

“Wh- what?” Jungkook lets out.

“What’s got you stuttering?” Yoongi asks, laughing. “Got hit too hard last time?”

Jungkook frowns, though he glances over his shoulder towards you again. “There’s a girl at the bar.”

As if he understood everything by that simple sentence, Yoongi says, “So you’re looking to fuck?” It’s teasing. It really is, so Jungkook doesn’t take it as an insult when Yoongi continues, “I thought tonight was for the boys.”

Jungkook feels his cheeks burning. “No I… She looks like she’s waiting for someone.”

Yoongi moves to the side, trying to catch sight of you. He nods when he does, before looking towards Jungkook again.

“She does.”

“Would it be stupid to ask for her number?”

“Whose number?” Namjoon jumps in.

Yoongi motions towards you. “That girl.”

“She’s hot,” Taehyung answers.

“Fuck, guys stop it,” Jungkook begs, embarrassment swirling in his blood. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Just ask her for her number,” Taehyung insists.

Jungkook shakes his head, scrunching up his nose. “No, all good. Yoongi’s right, tonight is for the boys.”

“I can ask for you,” Yoongi suggests, clearly feeling a little guilty for bringing the other guys into the conversation.

“Bruh, he’s a boxer, pretty sure he can ask a girl out himself,” Taehyung jokes.

Jungkook loves Taehyung to bits, but sometimes he hates him too. Right now is one of those times. “Fuck off, Tae.”

Taehyung just grins from ear to ear, eyes bright with laughter. “Love you too.”

“Let’s just go get that pitcher,” Yoongi then says.

Taehyung whines as Yoongi pushes him, but they soon slide out of the booth. Namjoon doesn’t budge, and Jungkook watches the two other guys as they head to the bar. Taehyung says something in Yoongi’s ear, and Yoongi looks back towards them as he answers.

Though he’s far enough, Jungkook can read the ‘fuck off’ on Yoongi’s lips that makes Taehyung burst out laughing. Taehyung seems to insist, and Yoongi folds, catching Jungkook’s gaze once before nodding his head.

And then Jungkook watches them as they approach you. He’s never seen Yoongi flirt with anyone before, and he watches in horror or maybe awe as Yoongi leans against the bar next to you, saying something that prompts you to laugh, while Taehyung stands behind him to talk to the barman.

Even though the bar is crowded, Jungkook thinks he hears your laugh. It’s crystal clear, soft, and he wishes he could be in Yoongi’s spot. But he’s a shit flirter, usually only hitting on girls to fuck them. It’s always been easy to him, that part, but something about the way you carry yourself tells him that it wouldn’t work with you.

He forces himself to look away, letting out a groan. Namjoon turns his head towards him, a contemplative look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Yoongi is speaking to her,” Jungkook says, motioning over his shoulder.

Namjoon looks in that direction, and says, “And they are looking this way.”

Jungkook glances over his shoulder right away, an anxious thrill moving through his body. He catches your gaze again, though you look away immediately. He’s pretty sure you’re blushing, though you shake your head no.

Jungkook looks away, feeling disappointed because you looked embarrassed. As if him wanting to have your number is an embarrassing thing. Or maybe he’s just overthinking everything, and Yoongi didn’t even mention him.

Taehyung comes back a few minutes later with a full pitcher. “Yoongi’s still talking to that girl,” he complains as he sits down. “She said no to give you her number, by the way.”

It’s the way Taehyung says the word, as if he doesn’t give a shit about it, that prompts Jungkook to look over his shoulder again.

Indeed, you’re still speaking to Yoongi. And you look like you’re enjoying yourself, laughing and smiling as Yoongi also sports that same comfortable attitude. It’s so rare to see Yoongi like this that Jungkook feels guilty for mentioning you, for acting as if he was entitled to you earlier.

When you rest a hand on Yoongi’s forearm where it’s resting on the counter Jungkook knows that he lost this fight. Not that it was a fight to begin with, but he still feels like he lost when Yoongi doesn’t come back for a while still, only coming back to them after Seokjin and Hoseok returned too, both smelling of cigarettes.

Yoongi sits at the head of the table, and Jungkook meets his gaze. He has a piece of paper in his hand and he hands it to Jungkook, causing silence to fall at the table.

“I got it,” Yoongi says, a smile gracing his lips.

Jungkook thinks that it’s the same smile Yoongi was offering you earlier, as if it’s lingering around.

“Ah, keep it,” Jungkook replies. “You two were clearly getting along.”

Yoongi frowns slightly. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want…” he trails off, shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s all good,” Jungkook insists. “We never see you getting along with women, just keep it.”

“It’s because he prefers dick,” Taehyung jokes, and the table is a mixture of rolling eyes and loud laughs for a few seconds.

“Shut the fuck up,” Yoongi tells Taehyung, though his features are soft as he safely puts away your number in his wallet.

Jungkook watches the piece of paper as it disappears from view, and all he can do is just hope that he won’t regret his decision later on.

*****

The usual pain of his knuckles hitting the punching bag, of the recoil in his whole arm, is grounding. Jungkook goes through his usual routine, mind zeroing on the motions of his body, like the waves relentlessly hitting the shore. He’s just the vessel on this ocean, and each thump of his fists against the punching bag is satisfying, in ways words can’t explain.

It’s late. The world outside has gone dark, and Jungkook can see his reflection on the windows. From the corner of his eyes, he sees how precise each of his movements are, how fluid he is. Like a wave – never fully stopping, never lowering his guard. He knows this dance more than he knows how to breathe.

He started boxing when he got bullied so rough that going to school had started being dangerous to him, almost twenty years ago. Then, his small fists had barely been able to make the punching bag sway, but today he has to be careful not to let his strength go unchecked.

Yet he keeps going. The motions carry him, the 1-2-2-1 in his head a litany, like it’s a prayer to a religion only he knows. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t relent, doesn’t slow down, a machine more than a human being.

It’s the best way to evade his feelings. To find a place of cool calm where he can just be, he can just exist, instead of having to think and feel. Because lately he’s been feeling too much.

It’s been weeks since Namjoon’s gallery show. Since Namjoon asked if a wedge was created between Yoongi and Jungkook. And though Jungkook answered with the negative, the follow-up question Namjoon asked was haunting, and he doesn’t want to think about it.

So he goes faster, hits harder. Maybe if his punches are loud enough they’ll cover the sound of his thoughts. Or maybe he should have put some music on – the sound of his clipped breathing and grunts is haunting even to his own ears.

Frustration spikes in him, and Jungkook stops, grabbing the punching bag to keep it from swinging aimlessly. He leans his forehead against it, not caring that he’s covered in sweat and that his hair is clinging to it. He takes a few long breaths, focuses on the hammering of his heart in his chest, of the blood pumping in his veins.

And then he thinks of you, he thinks of Yoongi, and he’s right where he started this evening. Under you, under Yoongi, pleasuring the both of you while he was incapable of finding his own pleasure.

You didn’t say anything. Neither did Yoongi, or Jungkook. All of you pretended that it didn’t happen. That Jungkook hasn’t come in weeks now.

He’s just unable to do it with you now. Not that he doesn’t want to – he really does, but not being able to kiss you has been playing games on his mind, and most of the time he loses his erection before he’s been able to come.

He still feels pleasure. A lot of it. Far more than he’s felt in any sexual encounters before, but he just isn’t able to reach completion anymore. He thinks, when it’ll find him, maybe he’ll thank the God above, if there’s even one.

Or maybe he should be thanking the one in hell.

He sighs as his breathing slowly returns to normal, and then pushes away from the punching bag to head to where he left his water bottle and shirt. Indeed, he’s shirtless, and he watches his reflection in the windows as he takes off his gloves, and then gulps down the water. He isn’t as ripped as he was before he retired from boxing, but he’s still toned, defined muscles creating a play of shadows and lights on his chest and stomach. He’s proud of his body – proud of the way you look at him. Proud of the way Yoongi looks at him, with lust and attraction and a side of envy. Or at least Jungkook likes to tell himself so, because he looks at Yoongi with far too much envy for it to be healthy.

He empties the water bottle, before bending down to grab his shirt. Even though he’s sweaty, Jungkook puts it on, knowing he’ll throw it in the washing machine the minute he gets home. And then he heads to his locker, where he left his motorcycle helmet and keys, switching those with the gloves he always leaves here, and a second later he’s turning off the lights to the gym, before heading outside.

He locks the door, breathing in the fresh air of early spring, and then he walks over to where his bike is parked. He’s quick to mount the motorcycle, to push the key in the ignition, and his bike purrs to life. The vibration shakes through his entire body, and then Jungkook is shooting out of the parking lot, heading home.

The streets are empty at this time of night, and Jungkook enjoys the ride, even though it’s short-lived. First thing he does when he gets home is put everything he’s wearing in the washing machine, and then he takes a really long and hot shower, hoping to erase the feeling of you and Yoongi on him.

It doesn’t work. It never fully works, and here, alone in his shower, Jungkook can’t help the lust that takes over him. Can’t help the tightening of his balls and the hardening of his dick, but he ignores it, not caring that something aches in his lower stomach from the repetitive denied orgasms.

He steps out of the shower once the water has turned cold, grabbing a towel to dry out his hair before wrapping it around his hips. He’s about to step into his walk-in, which is connected to his bedroom, when he sees his phone lighting up where he left it next to the sink.

He frowns – who would text him at this hour? – before heading to the device. His heart sinks in his chest when he sees your name, mostly because you never text him so late.

Did something happen with Yoongi?

Apparently not, Jungkook thinks. Not as he reads,

[4:57 am] You: I’m sorry about tonight

Jungkook doesn’t know what you’re apologizing for. You’re always good, so good to him. His heart has just been playing with his mind.

[4:58 am] Jungkook: why? [4:58 am] Jungkook: don’t be sorry, you were great

It doesn’t take you long to reply. Or at least to start typing a reply. Jungkook watches the three dots appearing and disappearing for almost a whole minute before your text finally comes in.

[4:59 am] You: you didn’t cum [4:59 am] Jungkook: don’t worry about it

Maybe you’re drunk, or maybe the late hour has been getting to your head much like it’s been getting to his. Because your reply makes him so hard he thinks he might actually be able to bust tonight.

[5:00 am] You: i miss feeling you cum in me

Jungkook shuts his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose as if that would change your reply. When he opens his eyes again, he sees that it hasn’t, that you really did say that. He doesn’t really know what to make of it. So he heads to his bed, takes off the towel and lies down, fully naked and skin still wet from the shower, right in the middle of the mattress.

[5:01 am] Jungkook: you’re filthy [5:01 am] You: only for you

He’s going insane.

[5:02 am] Jungkook: are you sure you should be texting me this shit rn? [5:03 am] You: honestly Idk. yoons is sleeping next to me

Jungkook oh so wishes it was him next to you. Him that would get to fall asleep in your bed, him that would get to fuck you in the middle of the night whenever you can’t sleep.

[5:03 am] Jungkook: I don’t think you should be telling me this when he’s not with us [5:04 am] You: I know [5:04 am] You: I agree [5:04 am] You: but I haven’t been able to sleep bc I’ve been thinking about you filling me up, and it feels wrong to wake yoons up for this [5:05 am] Jungkook: maybe u should wake him up. Maybe you can ride him with your eyes closed thinking that it’s me

Jungkook starts jerking off right then and there. He feels like what he’s doing is wrong, far too wrong, but somehow, he’s aroused by the thought of you unable to sleep because of him, because you want him so desperately.

You don’t reply for a while. And he doesn’t think he deserves a reply. He knows he’ll hate himself as soon as his lust passes, if it ever does.

So he shuts his eyes. Remembers the first time he felt your walls clenching around his dick, and he squeezes himself harder to try to reproduce the feeling. Nothing compares, but you’re there, printed behind his closed eyelids, and he thinks maybe he’ll finally be able to come.

His phone vibrates, and like an addict in need of a hit he quickly grabs it where he left it on his mattress. And when he sees what you sent, he goes into a frenzy he’ll only later describe as the stupidest moment of his life.

You sent him a nude. He can’t see your face, but your lips are on full display, your breasts the centerpiece of the picture. Your nipples are perked prettily, as if just begging for him to suck on them, and he squeezes his dick so hard it actually fucking hurts.

He doesn’t hesitate. He takes a picture of himself that he sends to you, the tip of his dick leaking with precum.

[5:09 am] Jungkook: I’m so fkg hard for you [5:10 am] You: just fucking cum, jk, it shouldn’t be that hard

The degradation in the sentence sends him flying over the edge, and he grunts loudly as he does come on his stomach. He picks up his pace, milks his orgasm as it runs through him, alighting every single one of his nerves with pleasure. He’s shaking when he’s done, feeling weak and blissed and like he’s just committed something unforgivable. He wonders if you feel the same, lying in bed next to Yoongi.

Something breaks. Something physically breaks in him and he hates it. Hates every moment that led him to do this, to do the irreparable to one of his friends. He reckons, if Yoongi hates him forever, he’ll deserve it. Because he knows he won’t be able to hide this from his friend, knows that…

His phone rings, breaking him out of his train of thoughts. To his surprise, and mostly fear, it’s Yoongi calling on Facetime. Jungkook swallows a lump in his throat as he answers, the camera obviously angled towards his face.

Yoongi appears a few seconds later, looking half asleep. “So you’re sending nudes to my girlfriend now?”

Jungkook feels tears burning in his eyes. “I’m so sorry…”

Yoongi laughs, and it breaks into a moan that makes the tears still in Jungkook’s eyes.

“She wanted me to…” Yoongi grunts. “Call you to show you what you’ve done to her.”

And then the camera flips, and it’s your ass on display as you ride Yoongi in reverse cowgirl. Every thought eddies out of Jungkook’s head, and he just watches, entirely forgetting that he’s covered in his own cum when you moan.

Yoongi’s cock glistens in the dim light of the lamp on your night table. You’re so wet Jungkook can hear it through the phone, and his arousal spikes, waking something in him.

“Why don’t you slap her ass?” he tells Yoongi, voice low and dark. “To punish her for what she did tonight.”

Yoongi doesn’t even hesitate. And he slaps so hard Jungkook can see his imprint slowly forming on your skin. It’s sinful, and he does feel bad because the sound you let out is slightly pained, until Yoongi massages your ass and you moan.

Then Jungkook disconnects from reality. Or maybe he dissociates. He knows he tells Yoongi what to do. Knows he tells Yoongi to fuck you in doggy style, to pull at your hair and mark your back with his nails. He guides his friend through the whole thing until his own dick is aching again, ready to go even though he already came. So he jerks himself off, the pain in his chest increasing yet he’s unable to pay attention to it. Unable to do anything other than watch you and Yoongi fuck like animals, until Yoongi comes and pulls out to let Jungkook see his cum dripping out of your cunt.

Jungkook comes at the sight. Not as much as he did earlier, but he still grunts and moans and curses as new cum meets the one that was already on his stomach. He feels even more disgusting, but you and Yoongi don’t seem to notice. Indeed, you invite Jungkook over the next day, and maybe he’s just a little too distracted to notice the shadows in Yoongi’s gaze.

Jungkook accepts the invitation, knowing that he’ll never be able to say no to you. And when you finally hang up, after having spoken for a few minutes, Jungkook barely has the strength to drag himself to the shower to clean up.

Once he’s lying back in bed, he feels like he’s spinning. Like the Earth has sped up, or maybe like he’s a mere sock getting tossed around in the dryer. It’s sickening, just like that feeling that’s clutching at his guts, and that’s been clutching at his guts for a while now.

Because his bed is empty, cold. His bed is always empty and cold. He doesn’t have you by his side, doesn’t have someone to warm up the covers. Hasn’t had anyone to warm up his covers in what feels like forever now.

And so his heart breaks, even more. It aches like acid was poured on it, and no amount of breathing techniques he’d used to get in the game before his boxing matches help. No, the tears win, and though he feels weak for it, he lets them free. Lets them be testaments of his feelings for you, of the loneliness that’s been creeping on him every fucking day since he felt you on his dick for the first time.

The car looms closer to the wall and tonight, Jungkook thinks it may very well meet its end sooner than expected.

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☆☆☆☆☆

*chuckles* we're in danger. What did you guys think about this one? I'm so afraid you won't like the direction this fic is taking :') let me know what you think!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate.

Taglist (add yourself to the taglist here) (strike-through means dumblr isn't letting me tag you):

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Golden- JJK

💛 Pairing: (almost entirely)Jungkook x reader, (basically none)Seokjin x reader

💛 Rating: 18+

💛 Genre: friends to lovers but like fluffy but also like very sad.

💛 Summary: After see your boyfriend Jin cheating on you at a bar and realizing your shared friends have been working together to hide it from you, you storm off into the parking lot to cry. Jungkook sees you out there and tells you the truth about everything, or what he wants you to believe is the truth.

💛 Words: almost 16k

💛 Warnings: CHEATING!!! “only one-bed” cliché but I love it, drinking, oral sex(m&f), protected sex and unprotected sex, dirty talk, overestimation, vaginal fingering, love kink?, too much smut, uhhh Jungkook is a bit of a stalker.

💛 Note: listen, I just wanted an excuse to write a gratuitous amount of Jungkook fluff and smut and I also love hurting. I thought I should throw in, these two characters are not actually in love, there are reasons it moves so fast, but it’s not love.

❤ also a very big thank you to @btsaudge​ who beta read this whole thing for me, she’s not only a god tier beta reader but a god tier writer too ❤

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𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 𝕆𝔽 𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 | ℂℍ. 𝟙

| 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫.

|𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞/𝐚𝐮: 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬,𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭,𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐮, 𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭.

| 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

| 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6k

| 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬 & 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, foul language ( 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 ), 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬), 𝐬𝐞𝐱 ( 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬).

| 𝐀/𝐍: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫! 𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 does 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲.

_

resentment.

bitter indignation of having been treated unfairly.

you had carried that heavy feeling for some time now, weighing you down with each step that you took. you wished you could pinpoint the reason, to have one target to focus on but there had been many things that caused you to clasp onto this feeling, it had become so familiar, you dared to call it a friend.

its warm embrace consuming you when you lay empty at night.

in your darkest hours.

Being raised in an almost picture-perfect home prevented you from completely grasping how you had ended up with the stirring feeling.

 you had been given all that you had ever asked for, your parent's wealth had guaranteed you a life of luxury and pampering that anyone would die for. you had been sent to the best schools, had surrounded yourself with the elites, you had been born into a world that had been hand-made perfectly for you, so was it truly unfair?

yes

besides the fact that you never had to truly worry about anything in life, you had been instilled with morals, morals that your father had soon thrown to the wind the second a business offer was laid on his table that he just had to bite.

 success was not enough for a man like your father, he always starved for more.

so much so that once the Jeon family, one of the wealthiest and most influential families in Korea offered a 98 billion won investment into his company in exchange for the marriage of their heirs, there was no fucking way he was going to refuse.

regardless of the sacrifices his own daughter would have to make for him.

marriage was sacred, this had been instilled in you since the early age of 5, your parents had fallen in love at the sweet age of 18, and ever since they had been inseparable. even after 25 years of marriage they still managed to swoon for one another. They had built a successful company together with blood, sweat, and tears. the dedication and loyalty they had for their business only enforced their ties.

"If you are to marry someone, do it for love"

they would say, funny how that quickly changed the moment money was placed on the line.

it was painful for you to admit that all the glory had gotten to their heads.

they had prepared a wedding in less than a week, forcing you into a marriage with a man you had only met the day you said your rehearsed vows.

Jeon Jungkook

Jungkook was one of the youngest and wealthiest eligible bachelors in Korea, the news of your marriage had shaken society to its core, no one had expected such a thing, he was known for his partying and luxurious life and you were barely known at all, as you always ensured to keep a low profile. magazines and blogs had gushed over your dress and the venue, the celebrities and other elites who had attended, and the expensive wines and food that had been provided. all things that had been chosen for you.

and yet you prevailed, in the sickest way you had convinced yourself that it would all work out for the best, your father would have not set you up for failure, you were the apple of his eye.

 arranged marriages were not uncommon in your circle, many of them had turned out just fine. eventually, you could fall for him, eventually, you could really love him, like a real marriage.

the thought now caused a vile taste in your mouth.

you had been so foolish, so naive to believe such things but given the circumstances, it was the only thing you could hold onto. hopeful thoughts.

the hope that had been snatched from you the moment you had learned the truth behind this entire ordeal.

you see unbeknown to your father, the money that had been used to trade his daughter had come from the illegal sale of firearms to the biggest mafia leaders and gangs in Korea, all the success the Jeon family had obtained had come from a long lineage of fraudulent businesses and crime and your father's company had just become the next victim.

they had used your marriage to strengthen their venomous root within the company, using it to launder their blood money.

98 billion drops of blood at that.

which meant that if they fell, your family fell with them and even though you carried great indignation towards the people who you had once called your parents, you could not imagine bringing them such pain.

therefore, divorce was not an option.

fear had forced you into a loveless marriage, had you harboring secrets for the family that would bring your own down in the blink of an eye.

"Mrs. Jeon"

a delicate whisper flowed into the air, snapping you back into the room in which you sat.

"mhm," you blinked, your eyes falling back onto the woman standing before you holding a catalog for you to view.

"I apologize ma'am" her voice shaking slightly, "I asked if you would like to view the new line of furniture coming out this season" she offered "for the remodelation of your home".

you stared blankly at the photographs before you and took a deep breath, your mind vacant.

"send some options to my assistant and then we will choose from them" you instructed.

the woman nodded and bowed deeply before removing herself from the room.

this was what you had to become. you had integrated yourself smoothly into the role of a stay-at-home wife as requested by your father-in-law who had made it clear that working was not a woman's duty and that you should allow your husband to provide for you.

all the dreams you once had of becoming a successful businesswoman had been replaced by brunches with other wives from high society and charity events. there was no room for your aspirations here and neither was there for any protest.

it made you want to claw at your eyes.

"Myung" you called for your assistant, and she quickly appeared before you. her small frame contrasting against your grand office, her shaky hands pressed tightly against the tablet on her hands and if you looked closely you could swear she was on the verge of an anxiety attack.

"yes Mrs. Jeon"

you cringed at the name that she uttered, wanting to remove yourself as much as possible from that family.

"Myung, please call me Y/N"

you corrected, causing her cheeks to grow brightly red at her mistake. She bowed quickly, her eyes wide open.

"Y-yes Mrs. J - Y/N"

"do I have any other meetings for today?" you inquired.

her eyes quickly scanned the tablet in her hands, the schedule reflecting off her thick glasses.

" uhm, you were free for the rest of the evening but Mr. Jeon actually called and requested to have dinner with you tonight" she announced nervously.

"oh" your lips parted "he's back from his travels, is he?" she shook her head rapidly, biting on her bottom lip, a bad habit you learned she had each time she grew nervous, which was often.

you leaned back onto your chair and pondered for a moment. spending time with your husband was always planned, always scheduled. much like a business meeting, there were many formalities taken at the time.

hell, you didn't even share the same bed.

in the year you have been married, the man had not touched you once.

it could be that he found solace in the arms of other women, many of whom smiled each time they passed you at events as if fucking your husband was some kind of bragging right, or maybe it was the iciness you radiated any time he was anywhere near you.

regardless of the reason, nothing had changed since the day you said I do.

it was visible to you from the first day you entered your shared home that this would not be a marriage that would offer you comfort or warmth.

once the housekeeper had shown you to your room and found no evidence that your husband had even graced his presence there you had concluded that you were doomed to the coldness of an empty relationship.

you scoffed rather loudly, turning your chair to face Myung once more.

"Who does he think he is" You bit "am I a dog that he summons whenever he feels like it?"

she stood still, thoughts bubbling in her mind.

you held out your finger before she could speak "Do not answer that".

you inhaled deeply before reaching for your Birkin bag and standing up firmly.

"call the driver and tell him to take me home"

"but Mrs. Je - Y/N"

Myung protested as you walked toward the doors of your office

"Mr. Jeon will be upset" she concluded.

there it was, that reminder that all those who stood beside you ultimately were under the Jeon payroll, and although they showed the utmost respect towards you, their loyalty remained elsewhere.

you snapped your head towards her and placed the shades you carried in your hands over your eyes in a swift movement, your red lips pulling into a smirk.

it had been a long time coming, your rebellion that was. you had been obedient for far too long, running at their Becking call like some kind of pet. the title of a trophy wife made you sick but that was what you were all along.

smile pretty for the camera Y/N, laugh Y/N, walk Y/N, bow Y/N, be respectful Y/N, don't be too loud Y/N, shrink yourself Y/N.

"then let him"

you had been silent for too long, cowarding at each of their words, in fear they would hurt your family.

but you were your father's daughter and you were starving

for revenge. 

-

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝! 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞! 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤/𝐝𝐦 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

A LOYAL BUTLER

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, nsfw, smut, mentioned deaths, mentioned masturbation, obsession, afab! reader, forbidden love (?), fingering, cunnilings, overstimulating, forbidden relationship.

➥ yandere! butler x mistress! reader

➥ synopsis: with all men dead, you are the currently head of the family and by your side stand your loyal butler who helps you with a small problem.

➥ a/n: request by @taeee0902. based on a small chat we had a few weeks ago. I really love their idea of having a butler as a yandere for a mistress who can’t catch a break from work, so she uses her beloved servant as a stress relief. this one is a little short since I got a some projects from college I need to do.

➥ unlike the rest of the noble houses of the empire, the barony is lead by a woman, you. since your father, brothers and uncles death, you have become the head of the family in the middle of the night with the approval of the last member of the royal family, the empress. meaning that none could take over your place if they marry you, making you the only person able to rule over the barony along with the help of elliot, your personal butler.

➥ he has been on your side since the early days. a little bit older than you by a couple of years, elliot has been your butler and best friend for a long time, someone who you can trust with your secrets and to help around work when you are stressed out. his gloved hands caressing your hair when you can barely stay awake from working hours and hour without a break or when elliot lays you down the couch of the office to give you a nice and deserved rest.

➥ it a routine that you are still getting used to it. always working without taking a single break (how father managed to do that?), talking and talking with people who are boring (almost falling asleep during meetings) and your less favorite, being so lonely. being the head of the house means that you have no time to spend one with the family, at least with those who still alive, and they live so far away from the barony that makes you feel so alone most of the time…but you have elliot at your side, don’t you? he won’t leave anytime soon, he promised that.

➥ most of the days is about you and elliot working together to fill the paperwork before night, it’s not easy as you expected, but its satisfying seeing how your hardwork later when the money arrives. and of course, you buy a few gifts for elliot to thank him for his help.

➥ sometimes are cufflinks that are made with the finest gems of the empire to match his eyes (that are only for you, my dear), expensive clothing that make many mistake him for a nobleman (he wishes to be the one to marry you) and a glass to help with his poor eyesight (he didn’t imagine that you could even more gorgeous). you are perfect, none can be compared to you and those who even try to stand up at the same height as your should suffer.

➥ and when you stop working for the day, elliot makes sure to take care of you. massaging your shoulder after you finally get a time to rest, preparing the soft and tasty food to make up to your hard work and helping you taking off your dresses. his hand unbuttoning the back of vests, to reveal your collarbone (the one that he dreams to place many marks on it) and your lingerie.

➥ he only could imagine how beautiful you are behind those piece of clothing, the water of the bathtub made difficult to see you nudity as he washes you hair with the finest shampoo and hearing you humming a melody from an old fairy tale. elliot feels like he is the happiest man on earth by touching your body in a intimate way, but he wishes to be more close with you and feel your body under his. is this too much to ask for?

➥ once the bath is done for good, elliot helps you put some lightly vests to cover you from the cold night and then guide you to the office, after all, you still need to work with some paperwork, where he stays right by your side for a couple of minutes before his time to leave. he was ready to leave for the night, but you call his name from the desk and asked him to come closer.

➥ is there something you need from me, [name]? he has the right to call by first name when alone. elliot hoped to be a simple request, such a glass of water, but you surprised him. you asked him, your personal butler, to have a sexual relationship with him. a casual thing, you told him that you need to let the stress out somehow.

➥ elliot’s mind told him to refuse the request, it’s not right to a noble woman and her butler to be in an intimate relationship, it’s forbidden! but his heart told him otherwise, saying it’s his only chance to be closer to you as he always dreamed of and that he could stop touching himself while thinking of you at night…he accepted your offer.

➥ the following day went smoothly to the servants of the household, after all, you looked so much better after days and days of stressing over working! but where is elliot? the butler was supposed to be serving you all the time, but no one can find him anywhere…maybe if they look under your desk they would find him.

➥ his fingers is hitting places you couldn’t never. teasing and touching every inch of your spongy walls, making you almost unable to hold back the moans that are desperate trying to get out. elliot has zero experience in touching a woman, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a faster leaner, managing to find the best areas of your inside to result in your body squirt under his touch. letting your fluids hit his lips and glasses, making him feel so powerful for being the responsible one to do it.

➥ eyes rolling back and trembling your whole body when elliot goes further with his tongue inside you. tasting how sweet and admiring how wet you can get by a merely teasing of his part, have you dream of this? how long have you been waiting for this to happen? he is going to ask it later, but now, he will be the responsible one to make you come by his tongue alone, elliot wants to drink til the last drop.

➥ his pleasure is ignored, completely obsessing over yours. elliot has his main goal to make you come by him and to hear the sweet sounds coming out of your lips, he adores it so much! it’s seem like time stops when you orgasm over and over til you can’t talk nor move your legs…and he isn’t stopping.

➥ elliot…t-too much, please stop. he doesn’t hear your words, his tongue continues to move inside and fingers are holding your thighs away to give him a better view of your pretty pussy, admiring it once again, then he continues with his work to make you feel good, unaware that you’ve reach your limit.

➥ luckily, you managed to push him away and elliot finally notice of your currently state. if someone say you right now, they won’t believe that you are noble lady, not with a commoner between your legs, with an expression from those erotic novels that many read in secret. it would be a such problem if anyone catch him this way.

➥ I-I’m exhausted… you are tired, of course you are, who wouldn’t be after a series of orgasm? but not elliot. he stares at you with his eyes begging for more, not even caring about his pants being ruined by his cum. tonight he is going to focus on you alone. you w-want more? he nodded, already teasing your clit again and whispering how much he loves you, his finger tapping your skin and fluids. well, since you asked it so nicely, elliot. you can continue it as long im working, okay?

➥ the smile on his face only grew before he went back to his place between your thighs, already feeling like he is the luckiest man in earth.

@moonit3 writings

Fawn

warnings: 18+, age gap(reader is 18), coercion, corruption, praise, humiliation, dirty talk, hair pulling, gaslighting and manipulation, alcoholism, some religious themes/talk, virgin/innocent reader, dark thoughts/fantasies, very vague mentions of familial abuse, shamming, obsession, overall yoongi is a ✨creep✨

Note: sometimes I piss myself off because I’ve been dying over this fic for days and now I don’t even like it much anymore- can I have nothing?😭idk might start writing more smut now??

You were a fawn in headlights when he first saw you in that clearing. Your back had been to him and at first, he had swore and scoffed at you because who hangs around in the woods disturbing his peace? Everyone in this town knew he lurked behind the tree line, drinking himself stupid and doing whatever fucked up activities they rumored him to. Yoongi never minded being the talk of the town. He’d been an outcast since his teenage years. Since he stopped going to church with his family like every other prim family populating the place. They took some fun teenage rebellion and ran with it- he liked to think himself not as messed up as people whispered he was. He’d always thought himself not to be until he met you.

He found you picking berries and flowers, anything that looked pretty out in the forest. You were kneeling trying to choose the perfect dandelion to add to your basket when he stormed over; pissed that someone was in his usual drink until he couldn’t move anymore spot. He liked it because it was a short walk from where he liked to stare at the Sunday churchgoers leaving and freak them out. He could recall seeing you before, always glued to your mother’s side wherever you went.

But he stayed away and kept to himself like always. He couldn’t say he had many, if any, friends around here. He’d been on his own since graduating and his family moved away shortly after. He hadn’t been close to them at the time so being left alone was welcomed at first. As for everyone else; if someone didn’t fit in around here they were an outcast without much care and it seemed that no one cared for him.

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