Strict

Strict ❣️

Hard!Dom!Hoseok x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Smut!, Hard!Dom!Jhope, hair pulling, spanking, guided masterbation, spanking with belt. Manhandling, degradation,

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A strict hard dom. Not something you expected from your happy go lucky boyfriend. Hoseok was just so cheery so it really surprised you. But here you were, laying across his lap as he added another harsh spank to your ass.

What number were you even on? 9..,? 12…? 20…? You weren’t even sure anymore.

You were knocked out of your thoughts as he delivered the last one, now rubbing your red ass.

“Are you going to behave now?” He asked bluntly, giving a little pinch.

You nodded, only to get pulled up by your hair.

“Excuse me?!”

“Y-yes Hoseok!” You replied with a shaky voice. “I’m-I’m sorry…”

“Sorry for…?”

“For being a bad girl.” You said with a tear going down your cheek.

He suddenly pushed you off his lap to the floor, grabbing your wrists to make you kneel.

“Bad girl indeed.” He said while holding your jaw, making you look up at him while squishing your cheeks. “Nothing but a fuckin whore.”

You whimpered and your boyfriend softened up for a moment, obviously waiting to see if you’ll say the safe word. But you didn’t. In fact, you hated to admit that his degrading words were turning you on a bit.

He only nodded before letting go and pulling you up by the hair.

“Strip.” He said simply.

You were still mostly dressed, in fact the only thing you didn’t have was your underwear.

You slowly undressed. Pulling your shirt off then your skirt. You slowly unclipped your bra and let the straps fall before dropping the bra.

Hoseok was still fully dressed, something about that made you lowkey embarrassed.

“Spin around, girl.”

You slow spun around, lifting your arms to let him fully see your body.

Hoseok bit his lip at the sight. So hot and vulnerable… and all his.

“Touch yourself.” He commanded.

“Yes sir…” you replied as you started rubbing your clit. You were already aroused from earlier and this only made in more intense. You gave short breaths as you inserted your finger, slowly moving in and out.

Hoseok was satisfied, smirking when realizing how you were losing yourself.

“Dirty slut…” he teased. “I know you want something bigger.”

“Y-yes sir~” you moaned while adding another finger.

“You want me to fuck you?! I can fuck the brat right out of you.”

“Yes sir…” you were dripping, the essence dripping down your fingers. “I-I… I want your cock…”

“Of course you do.” He said while a devious smile, grabbing your arm to pull your fingers out and pushing you on the bed.

Now you’re on your stomach, your ass pointed up a little.

Hoseok undid his belt and dropped his pants, followed by his boxers.

He wrapped the belt around his hand and gave you a sudden spank with it, making you scream.

“Did you forget this was still your punishment?” He chuckled. “Are you really that stupid?”

Your whimpered and he hit you with it again.

“You really are a dumb bitch.” He smirk while teasing your hole with his hard cock.

Without warning, he thrusted into you, not even giving you a moment to adjust before railing you, fucking all his stress into you.

You were moaning and screaming with pleasure. You were trying to grip the sheets but Hoseok grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your back.

He reached his high and came. However he wasn’t done. You wanted to cum but he’s not letting you. Instead he stopped moving, only letting his length sit inside of you.

“Hoseok! Hoseok ~!” You whined. “Please let me cum! Please!”

“Not yet, girl…” he smirked while reaching to rub your clit.

You were overstimulated and it took everything in you not to cum. You whimpered in desperation.

“Beg.”

“Please Hoseok! Let me cum! I’ll be your good girl! Please please pleeeeeeeaaaasse~” you begged while nearly crying.

Hoseok liked that and let go of your wrists.

“Cum.”

You came with a sigh of relief. Your body was weak and you lay there on your stomach. Shivering a little from the ac that hit your back.

Your boyfriend put his underwear back on and sat next to you. He gently stroked your back, helping you relax.

You remember how this is an act. A scene if you will. He’s not really this rough. A little dominating in day to day life but also very sweet and loving. You smile at the feeling of him touching your soft skin and let out a sigh of relief….

You and your writing are like a soothing warmth for my ugly days.

Also any day now, one more fic and I will be officially marry hobi in ma dreams (　＾▽＾)

another member is in love with you.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader   ━ masterlist

━ about: angst, a few hurt/comfort elements; this somehow wound up being about the bond between boys as much as the x reader part

━  pictures taken from Pinterest

━  c/w: depiction of throwing up in Jimin’s part

NAMJOON | “Since when did you switch to another movie?”

Though the haze with which he’d come home with had not disappeared entirely, it did lessen. However, with this sentence being the first and only thing he’d spoken to you the entire day…well, you couldn’t help but be just a tad ornery.

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” you jeer. “We do hope you enjoy your stay here.”

But something is undeniably wrong and it’s not the silence or the faraway gleam of his expression that gives it away but rather the absolute lack of reaction. His hand still monotonously brushes up against your leg that sits perched up in his lap but he’s simply not here.

“Joon,” you call out, a stern new tone lilting your voice. It stirs him enough to break whatever trance he self-imposed and lifting his head, Namjoon blearily blinks up like one would after a long nap.

“What’s with you?”

“What do you think of Yoongi?”

Sitting half-turned on the sofa with a distinct wrinkle of an oncoming frown, he awaits your answer. One you don’t know.

“Yoongi?” you parrot, all of a sudden being the confused one. “What…what does Yoongi have to do with anything?”

“Like are you two close?”

A beat of silence drags on as you stare at each other. It is frustrating being asked something you did not understand and yet even more so looking into Namjoon’s eyes and having no idea what is it that’s sitting behind them.

“Uh…not really?” at last you cautiously reply. “He texts me something funny every now and then but that’s it.”

“What kind of ‘something funny’?”

The room tumbles into another bout of silence. Slowly you tuck your legs away and though his fingers clutch repeatedly around the emptied air as if the sudden domestic absence has hurt him, the tone of his voice is just too damn imperial for you to care.

“Memes, cat videos,” unwittingly, a part of you — not so agreeable part — breaks free and arching an equally damning eyebrow, you goad him on: “Why? You want to have a look?”

He thinks of it, he genuinely weighs it over, you could see it in the way his pupils dart to the side, half-calculating, half-ashamed of the possibility. By the time that he wistfully utters: “no, there’s no need” it is too late. The tranquil peace of a quiet evening has thoroughly evaporated — what lingers in the air now is terse and partly hidden.

You may not know Yoongi but Namjoon knows Yoongi and he knows that there is something soft that quirks his lips at the mere mention of your name. That the way his gaze follows you around is just a touch too tender. Safe to say, it all goes unspoken — it is Yoongi after all — and Namjoon doesn’t know whether it’s for the better or worse. There is a certain kind of cathartic appeal to just shouting things aloud, consequences be damned, but as it stands, for now at least, everything is quiet and nothing is resolved.

Still, Yoongi doesn’t bother you — shouldn’t that be enough? He has the freedom to feel how he feels, just not the right to act upon it. And the fact is that it wasn’t Yoongi per se that was ruining his relationship right now; Namjoon was doing it quite well all by himself.

Peeking at you from the corner of the eye, he finds you sitting blue. Blue as in bathed in the blue light of the working TV although you do appear quite sad — all shrunken away into the corner, staring at the screen but not seeing anything.

You’ve had a fight.

He just started a fight.

Drawing a curt sigh, Namjoon inches himself a bit closer, acutely monitoring every last bit of you, down to the microexpressions. The slightly stretched out bottom lip, the tightly wound arms around your stomach, just the slight, almost imperceptible crease in between your eyebrows — yes, most certainly, you’ve just had a fight.

Still despite Namjoon moving ever so closer, slyly crawling back into your good graces both metaphorically and physically, you don’t make a move to deny him or cuss him out. In fact, you don’t make any move and once again he doesn’t know if that’s for the better or worse.

“I’m sorry,” he says and it’s earnest — you both know it is. You may not know that he’s saying sorry for more than just this but that too is earnest. “I don’t want us to fight.”

“Then don’t start no fights,” spitefully, you bite back but if your non-reaction was anything to go by as Namjoon places a palm on your knee, he will be forgiven.

YOONGI | Well, I should count my blessings it wasn’t Jungkook. Chiefly, that’s the first thought that pops into his head when on a random Tuesday in the most random of practice rooms, he sees the contact picture saved as Jimin’s phone lights up. Yoongi knows that picture, he took that picture. Which of course prompts the question how did Jimin get his hands on it because last time anyone checked you were Yoongi’s partner and not anyone else’s.

Sliding to unlock the call, he’s hoping like never before that it won’t about to change.

“Yes?”

“Yoongi?” instantly, you wonder. “Where’s Jimin?”

“Don’t know. Why do you—” fuck, his voice cracked. “Why do you want him? I mean, talk to him?”

“I don’t even know myself, dude,” loudly, you complain. “He called me some time ago, saying there’s something uber important to talk about and now I can’t get a hold of him anymore.”

Just then when Yoongi’s heart is about to free fall right to the bottom of his stomach, the doors to this very random practice room open and because life has a cruel and twisted sense of irony, it’s Jimin who steps through. Lately, he’s been looking haggard and it had been an unspoken agreement between the boys that his problems laid with album production but now, in one hand holding the love of his life and in the other what probably was his brother’s heart yearning for one he couldn’t have, Yoongi wonders whether it’s you whose keeping Jimin up at night with guilt. You and the smiling picture he definitely shouldn't have.

For a moment they simply stare at each other, without speaking a word. Like a clash of two worlds, the collective breath has been knocked out of the room and not even the clock pinned to the wall can cut through the sheer volume of silence.

At last, Yoongi gathers himself and stretching out the phone, he makes sure that his tone is nothing but utterly monotone.

“It’s ______________.”

Jimin grows deathly pale. His widened eyes jump from the phone in Yoongi's hands to Yoongi himself and like a deer in headlights, he keeps standing still. If his dry lips part to mutter something, no sound leaves him. The only thing he can muster is an awkward incline to indicate some kind of bow. Yoongi cards him back the phone, pretending he can’t hear your voice repeatedly questioning “hello?” on the other line and quickly steps out of the room.

It takes him three more hours than usual to get home. By that time you’re soundly asleep, clutching at the shirt Yoongi had so carelessly discarded on the bed this very morning. He quite earnestly wishes to go back to that moment, call in sick and not let either of you move out of the bed.

Despite him most definitely not wanting to, the smile creeping on his face is by now an instinctual. You could make him beam like a spring sunshine by just waking up. He loves you he knows that. He loves Jimin and Jimin as it turns out loves you. The question is of course — do you love Jimin as well?

Maybe he could…share?

“No, no,” Yoongi shakes his head, muttering to himself in the pale yellow light of the nightlamp. “What the fuck am I even thinking?”

How would that work? He gets you from Monday to Thursday only to then card you over to Jimin for the remaining week?

Glimpsing at you slumbering, half-nestled underneath the duvet, he can’t help but shudder. If you would ever learn what he just thought, it wouldn’t matter whether you love Jimin or not, because sure as hell Yoongi wouldn’t be alive to learn that fact.

Safe to say, he doesn’t get a wink of sleep.

As Yoongi tiredly observes you getting ready, there is an aggravating, oozing cut on his heart and every single action of yours pokes a big salted thumb right in its middle. Did you made your hair with the same level of precision when you went on a date with him? Did you dig through numerous outfits as desperately for him, trying, no, feeling the need to look good?

By the time, you’re done, he’s sitting on the bed, bleeding dry. Still, there are some things to consider — you were getting ready in his bedroom, it was his shirt you were pulling over your head and it was his initials hanging on a dainty chain down your neck.

… as it turns out, a drunken second date could lead to many things, be it a custom jewelry or a tattoo of someone’s name on their back or…left butt cheek, to be more precise.

You had a history together and he could only hope that it meant something to you.

“I’m going to meet up with—”

“Jimin after work.”

You swerve to gander at him, frowning as you do so but Yoongi doesn’t explain how he knows you will. Only wishes a succinct “don’t be out too late” and lets you out of his grasp.

It wasn’t like him to chain anyone down and you wouldn’t love him if he did. This is one of those things he just has to trust you with and maybe in time, he’ll learn to trust Jimin again.

True to your promise, when the clock strikes six you’re not at home like you usually would be. At first seven passes, then eight, then nine. Yoongi still gives you the benefit of the doubt. But when the clock starts crawling half past eleven, his knee cannot stop bouncing and his mouth cannot stop gnawing on his own nails. However, just when he no longer can stand the veritable avalanche of anxiety bucking him under, you drag yourself through the door. All complaints and accusations swiftly evaporate from the tip of his tongue as Yoongi takes in just how dead you appear. Your expression is permanently frozen in a state of hurt confusion so much so that when Yoongi slides the jacket over your shoulders, you don’t seem to notice his presence.

It’s only around one in the morning, when staring at a steaming mug of warm tea, you dare to whisper the revelation Yoongi already knows.

“Jimin said he’s in love with me.”

“I know.”

He cringes as the hurt in your eyes now finds him. Sweet heaven, how could Jimin ever do this.

“You knew?” incredulously, you question. “You knew and you didn’t bother to tell me?”

“It was not my secret to tell,” firmly, he replies. “And you know that.”

“But you don’t know how he looked!” you continue, steadily working yourself up to an angered hiss. “He said he loves me and hates himself for it. The last thing he wants to do is to hurt you. You know he thinks of you like a brother.”

Dragging a tired palm over his face, Yoongi whispers that he does know that.

“Anyway, Jimin told me that he has no intention of butting in our relationship,” you conclude numbly and while Yoongi is happy to hear it, the same delight is overshadowed by worry. Was Jimin drinking? Was he somewhere unsafe in Seoul right now?

Seemingly being able to read his mind, you answer before the question is even poised.

“I made sure Jungkook picks him up and looks after him,” you sigh, pushing the mug away. It was completely full. “He wanted to apologize to you for doing this.”

“Via you?”

You sigh once more and somehow it’s even heavier.

“I don’t think that he can bear to look at you right now.”

Yoongi’s gaze darts to sit on the edge of the kitchen table, it lays there dull and lifeless up until you reach to gently wrap a hand around his palm.

“We’ll be okay,” you reassure him with a smile far too meagre to be convincing. “All of us will be okay. In time.”

It takes approximately a week for Yoongi to run into Jimin. They cross each other's paths in a hallway next to the exit doors. What sparse conversation they share is gone as soon as it starts. Yoongi takes in the exhausted, heartbroken look that seems to devour Jimin whole and all he manages to wrangle out is an understanding “I’m sorry” spoken at a distance.

Jimin gives him a tight-lipped smile and a nod, before putting back his headphones and stalking out into the rain soaked street with a downward gaze.

Yoongi hopes that it will be, as you said, all okay in due time.

SEOKJIN | Hoseok’s entry level of amusement had always been on the floor. Thus seeing him nearly double over in a peel of roaring laughter is not by any means an unusual sight. But...

Jin’s gaze slides over to you, standing next to a positively beaming Hoseok. You were funny, Hoseok liked funny.

And he also liked you.

Which wouldn’t be a problem if not for the tiny fact that you and Jin already have matching bands around your fingers and that you are in fact undeniably, irrevocably the love of his life.

So…there’s that.

Though sitting back and simply observing feels somehow wrong, what else is he supposed to do? Going over there and punching Hoseok in the teeth is not only something he would not usually do but also, in Jin’s mind, it wasn’t even close to being productive — so what else is there?

And yes maybe it does irk him.

“Gosh, it looks like a painting,” you sigh contently, gazing over the rolling grass and clumps of disorganised mountains in the background.

“I know, a real masterpiece,” Hoseok agrees but his heart-shaped gaze is not found on said clumps of mountains or the tufts of white clouds rolling above. It's firmly planted on you and so it has been for quite some time.

Yes, it does irk him, knowing that his brother, practically flesh and blood in all the accounts that it mattered, would betray him but even so the last thing Jin wants is to tell you. There was no doubt about it — the knowledge would break your heart.

At first, you’d blame yourself, concocting in your mind that somehow this was solely just your doing and that should any fight occur it’d be you who’d spark it and then you’d cut ties with Hoseok completely. Whatever the case may be of his feelings, Hoseok was the first one who accepted you, who welcomed you into their midst as Jin’s partner with no suspicions or walls of guarded behaviour. He’d become your ride and die and frankly, very, very frankly, Jin was just as worried whether Hoseok would survive such sudden separation.

He can’t not care for his friend and as messy as it is, his friend’s wellbeing now partially hinged on his partner’s smile.

What a shit fest.

Jin is fairly certain Hoseok will not attempt anything. The sense of shame broiling within him is so apparent that more than once someone else had caught Jin by the elbow, wondering whether they have had a fight.

They haven’t, monotonously, he replies each and every time, but he doesn’t insist it’s all good either.

Regardless, the fact is he hasn’t spoken with Hoseok for…quite some time. His contact number has traversed from the usual "recently dialled" to possibly being outdated.

“Hey, you’re not sick, are you?” the sound of your worried voice at last rouses Jin from the literal plague of thoughts buzzing around. For good measure, you put your palm on his forehead, trying to gauge the temperature.

Jin wrangles it away, for a moment considering whether to kiss it. Hoseok is looking.

He chooses to hold your hand instead, his finger lingering on the promise ring.

“I’m okay, don’t worry.”

“You’ve just been really quiet ever since we got here.”

“I’m overwhelmed by the sheer amount of struggles you have to go through.”

Your brow wrinkles and you gaze down on Jin whose been slowly or not so slowly sipping his whiskey by the fire pit.

“Struggles?” you echoe confused and Jin gives a sage nod.

“I’m already so beautiful every single moment but out here — in our forest get together… I can’t even imagine how you cope. I must be absolutely enthralling.”

There’s a solid minute of absolute silence before you enrupt in fond laughter.

“Don’t ever change, Jin.”

He tries to mimic your grin but it falls a touch too flat so instead his eye travels towards the onlooking Hoseok. Both hold each other’s stare before quickly turning away.

“I definitely won’t,” absent-mindedly, Jin mumbles under the nose.

HOSEOK | It just had to be Namjoon.

“Well, at least it’s not Jungkook,” Namjoon breathes a demure laugh.

If Hoseok had any heart to pummel him through the ground, he would.

“Motherfucker, really?!”

“I’m sorry.”

It truly was a curse to see someone as human. Because no matter how mad Hoseok was at Namjoon, he could not rid himself of a kid's image in this man. A kid who always was beside him. A kid with all the big dreams and all the wrong approaches to those dreams. Still, Namjoon had a kind heart and there was no one more dedicated to fixing their wrongs than him. Hoseok presumes it was this same dedication that had brought his best friend to his doorstep with a bottle of whiskey in hand and a great big apology tumbling like vomit out of his mouth.

“They just called me to help arrange your birthday present. I promise it wasn’t any more than that.”

For what seems like the hundredth time, Namjoon rushes to explain, wearing not to subtle glimmer of delirium in his eye.

“We met up for a coffee,” Hoseok’s eyebrow twitches and though he could have sworn it was impossible, Namjoon grows a touch paler from fear. “And we only discussed you and I left the second I could!”

“So my partner called up my best friend whose actually in love with them to discuss the plans for my birthday. Me, their partner who knows that his best friend is in love with said partner.”

All Namjoon can really do is apologetically rub the back of his neck all while trying (and failing) to inconscpicously inch closer towards the doors.

“It’s messed up, I know.”

“It’s more than a little messed up, Joon,” Hoseok laughs dryly, already sensing the tepid touch of an oncoming migraine. “You haven’t told them, have you?”

Immediately, Namjoon shakes his head, the glasses perched on the top of his nose threatening to simply hurtle against the wall.

“We agreed to not tell them. I’m keeping my end of the bargain.”

And Hoseok does hate himself for it but he’s always wondered so why not ask while the opportunity is still fresh —

“Why did you agree?” he prods with what to him appears as a cautious hand. “You could have just told how you feel—”

But Namjoon is quick to interrupt.

“I don’t want to,” he states with no small amount of firmness. It’s the sort of resolution Hoseok has seen him wield in front of the UN, in front of difficulties he could not even comprehend. Something steel-like rests behind his gaze and Hoseok knows that whatever sort of intention Namjoon has set on you, no force of nature can lead him astray.

“I don’t want to see the pity in their eyes.”

“_____________ wouldn’t look at you with—”

“Yes, they would,” Namjoon interrupts him again, his mouth thinning into a grim line. “I wouldn’t be Namjoon the leader, Namjoon the trustworthy member, Namjoon, your,” he stammers; it’s almost imperceptible alas Hoseok just knows him too well. “Your brother but I’d be small Namjoon. I’d be Namjoon the naive fool who would require kid gloves in case any remark about the happiness of your relationship would break his heart. And I don’t want that.”

Ah.

“I want ________________,” they both know it’s a poor choice of wording but none of them is brave enough to remark upon it. “In a natural way, you know. I want to be their friend, I don’t want to make things any more complicated. So, yeah, I don’t want to tell them and perhaps,” he licks at his dry lips, briefly glimpsing outside. Unbeknowst to himself Hoseok mimicks the movement, forcing the barest sliver of a smile upon Namjoon’s face. “Nah, it is selfish but it is what it is.”

“Hmm.”

For a while they stand silent and it’s painfully awkward but also…it’s good. It’s almost unbelievable but things are actually peaceful between them.

“What does ____________ has planned for my birthday?”

Namjoon cracks a wry smile.

“I ain’t telling you that.”

The ring of Hoseok’s phone cuts the lingering tension in two and like an air escaping from a pop balloon, the room grows lax.

If a bit sad.

“Hey babe,” Hoseok greets you and Namjoon simply pretends like he isn’t here to hear that. “You’re waiting outside? Yeah, I’ll get going soon. Bye. Love you too.”

He doesn’t miss the way Namjoon turns away, obstinately staring at anything just to not see what currently he does not want to see. Hoseok simply lets him be.

“I’ve got to go,” he waves around some well-meaning gesture that falls flat on comfort, already halfway there to bolt out of the door. “Will you be okay?”

He watches Namjoon scuff the shoe against the floor. It’s a tad too angry for someone who will undoubtedly insist on being utterly okay.

“Yeah, of course!” Namjoon brushes him off, feigning indifference a bit too well. “I’ll just, you know, go into my studio and write some lyrics to process my bottomless devotion to the love of your life.”

Kidding! — follows soon after.

“Sort of,” is added when Hoseok ultimately leaves the room.

JIMIN | “You should go home.”

“I don’t want to go home.”

“Jimin…”

“Don’t you dare to pity me!”

“I’m not. Actually, quite the opposite.”

Jimin glowers at Yoongi across the rim of his glass but it doesn’t quite have the effect he pictured. Yoongi keeps on wearing the same unimpressed grimace he’d sat down with. He draws a great sigh for the upteenth time and begins again, a bit gentler, a bit more lenient.

Jimin doesn’t know which is worse — either way, he’s a hair away from bursting into tears.

“I didn’t expect you, out of all people, to think with your fists instead of your brain.”

And just like that, the tears evaporate.

“He tried to take them away,” he whispers, voice shaking from the barely concealed rage. Not even at Jungkook’s feelings per se but rather at his sheer audacity. Jimin would understand if he would just fall in love with you, he would understand, he knows how easy it was to love you, to be consumed by you but to go—!

“He went behind my back!” he cries out loudly, instantly drawing the attention to their small tablee. “He went and asked to be given a chance!”

The frown on Yoongi’s face deepens and seeing such an opening Jimin reaches out and does what he knows best. He pours himself a drink, knocks it down into his throat and hopes he’ll pass out soon.

Yoongi bats at his arm, steadily growing redder and redder from the frustration alone.

“Stop drinking!” he chides with an irritated hiss. “I’m not excusing Jungkook’s actions. But you know how he is.”

“And thus I’m supposed to forgive him for trying to fuck my fucking partner?!”

Once again, all eyes sit on their table as Jimin’s voice rises into an angered scream.

“Yeah, and look at you now. You’ve traded fists with your best friend, gotten yourself a busted lip and _______________ has moved out and honestly good for them. I also wouldn’t want to stand you clowns.”

“You’re supposed to be comforting me,” Jimin scoffs but receives nothing but an ill-meaning glare back.

“I’m all out.”

When at long last Jimin gets home, it’s well past three in the morning. His head is spinning and not so small part of him regrets ever drinking. The alcohol is clawing back up his throat and it doesn’t care that he’s putting a palm in front of his mouth. He’s about to vomit it all back out.

“Jesus,” a blur of a voice calls above him and Jimin finds himself being hastily carded to the toilet. He wonders who it is — it couldn't be you, you wouldn’t be able to lug him around like a roll of wet paper towels but he simply doesn’t have the time to care about it. As the next thing that comes out of his mouth is not a question poised, eloquenty or not, but a steady stream of stomach acid and half-digested fragments of his piss-poor dinner. His faceless saviour brushes the hair back from his forehead, occasionally laying an empathetic pat on his back. Though his mouth of full of bile, Jimin tries to say he appreciates it.

The sun greets him vicious and unforgiving. His head pounds and for the longest part of an hour, Jimin doesn’t even recall on how he made it back into his bed. Spotting a full glass of water and painkillers, he both chugs it all down and prays to heaven that it is you. Someone’s definitely clambering around his kitchen. The noise of a pan on a stove is unmistakanable regardless of the state he’s in.

Cautiously, Jimin pads over to the kitchen, attempting to put together at least two phrases of a genuine apology but the sight he sees only further spikes the nausea gripping him whole.

Unless you suddenly grew a mullet, got an armful of tattoos, a lip piercing and a cosmetic surgery, he’s fairly sure that it isn’t you standing by a stove and cooking a pan of eggs but one Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook the traitor.

Jeon Jungkook the one Jimin thought was a friend.

Best friend in fact.

In spite of how hard Jimin tries to eviscerate Jungkook with his glare, he cannot help but cringe as the man whips around, showcasing his black eye. Instinctually, Jimin runs a tongue over his lip. It still hurts.

There is a pregnant pause during which they don’t speak, merely stay in their respective corners of the room. Jungkook shifts from one foot to another, white knuckling the handle of the pan.

“I made you some eggs,” he splutters, hopefully presenting the food. Ever so slowly, Jimin lowers his gaze towards them and quirks a brow in order to show just how unfettered he is by it.

“I’ll vomit them back in your face,” he states coldly and Jungkook all but withers into himself.

“Listen, man, I know that I overstepped some boundaries—”

“Some?!” at once, Jimin has to clutch at his head to make sure it simply does not implode.

“All of the boundaries,” he corrects. "And I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I betrayed your trust and __________’s trust, and I know that neither of you owe me your forgiveness.”

Jimin pries open one of his eyelids — it’s swollen and laced with sleep but even so he knows Jungkook and he knows Jungkook wasn’t capable of lying.

He truly is sorry.

“Why the change of heart?” Jimin barks mistrustfully. “Since when do you care for anything but yourself?”

It’s a low blow but damn if it does not delight him, to hurt Jungkook just as much as Jimin was hurt.

“________________,” Jungkook sighs, his nose scrunching up at what is certainly a recollection of some exceedingly sour memories. “Chewed me the fuck out. They said—” his breath hitches. In a still moment between one breath and the next, there is a single, utterly pathethic plea ringing in Jimin’s ears—

Please, dont take them away from me

“They said they were disgusted by me.”

He has to physically bite his tongue to not say “I’m sorry”. It’s just as instinctual for him to comfort Jungkook as it is for their younger one to seek that same comfort. For a brief moment, he sees a much younger Jungkook. A much younger Jungkook come to beg for understanding and Jimin himself, feels much younger. Much more ill-equipped to deal with Jungkook’s fragile heart.

But that moment disappears and with it the breadth of his anger.

It’s churning, he knows it is, he doesn’t deny it but he reckons that step by step, day by cautious day they’ll be able to calll each other friends again and greet you back home, inhabiting their rightful roles.

You would say they're a broken pot with its cracks glued by gold.

Yoongi would say they’re fucking morons.

TAEHYUNG | Dearest ____________________,

Let me preface this by saying, I know it’s inappropriate and I know it’s unfair for me to spring this on you. I must seem like a coward to you and that’s beacause I am one. Million times I must have tried to tell you, to be able to say IT to your face but I just can’t. I don’t care what you do with this letter, burn it if you must, destroy it if it brings you peace but a part of me reasons, people deserve to know when one loves them and so I tell you.

I love you.

I love you insanely. I love you devoutly but most of all I want to love you selflessly so I won’t ask of you anything don’t worry. I won’t ask of you to meet me, I won’t ask of you to let me down, gently or otherwise, I won’t ask of you to even look at me. I burn for you, I yearn for you but I also know you love Taehyung. I see your love for him as clear as I see my own so I understand I don’t have a place in your life. I don’t even dare to ask of you such a thing.

You may wonder why even write this at all? Well, for me this is a speech. A speech one would give at a funeral. I scream and I vomit all that I feel and with it, with every stroke of this stupid pen I hammer in a nail into a coffin of all the fondness I hold for you. With any luck, I’ll be able to return to it rarer and rarer until at last it’s swallowed by moss and will lay unrecognizable. With any luck, the scar will heal and will be just that — a painless scar left by idiocy of youth.

I don’t want you to find me, I don’t want you to know me, all I want is for you and Taehyung to be happy. Oh, Taehyung, if only I could also say how sorry I am for ever letting him down.

So please be happy _______________. Be the happiest a person has ever been so I can rest easy and breathe a little easier each day, knowing that none of us has made a grave mistake.

Sincerely,

Your secret admirer.

Quite the letter, Taehyung reckons, closing it shut once he finishes tracing the inked lines. The thick black of the room is cut only by the orange flames licking at the firewood in the old fireplace. Glimpsing quietly across the shoulder, he finds you sleeping soundly on the hotel bed, hair splattered messily across the pillowcase. Taehyung supresses a deep sigh of relief before turning back with a heavy frown etched upon his face.

He took you away just in time, whoever this secret admirer was, he clearly held something more than a casual crush. When did he have the time to slip this into your bag, Taehyung did not know but it scared the shit out of him. The only people who both knew of his sudden trip to France and had the opportunity to see you were his members. His friends. His brothers. Which meant that one of them betrayed him. For one of them your name on their lips was not something easy to be spoken. For one of them your name was a benedction, meant to be sighed in shameful isolation.

The poetics said Namjoon but don’t find me said Yoongi. Loving insanely was Jungkook wanting to love selflessly was Jimin. But who could possibly know — maybe it was Hoseok, maybe it was Jin — Taehyung certainly didn’t.

He gazed down onto the thin paper, lips curling in distaste. Whoever he was, he should have just kept it to himself. For the first time, Taehyung was happy in his relationship, secure even and here he comes, one of his family, tearing it down.

Perhaps he should do what this admirer said — forget about it. No one wants to hate their family, right?

Yes, he thinks to himself, I’ll forget about. I’ll try really, really hard.

It was a good letter, beautiful even, he has to admit that much.

Shame though, he doesn’t hesitate to toss it into the flames, ______________won’t ever read it.

JUNGKOOK | “Baby, please.”

Jungkook loathes the fact at how weak he grows underneath your touch. Where others would give him a wide berth, all in fear of incuring a foul mood, you merely have to wrap your arms around his back and he feels the tension unlatching its jaw from his shoulders.

“Just talk to Jin.”

“Don’t even mention his name,” he growls, trying to sound pissed but his body has a mind of its own. It reaches to tug you closer around him, almost frightened that should he let you go for just a second, he could lose you.

“He came forward with how he felt,” you reason slowly, cautiously. “He was honest and just let it all out.”

“He should have choked with it,” Jungkook refutes. You don’t buy it.

“You don’t mean that.”

Jungkook knows you know he knows he doesn’t mean it but for the time being he just wants to be angry.

He turns to look over his shoulder, finding you nuzzled into his spine, swaying slighty from left to right. His heart swells with all this…love he held for you. Whatever Jin held was nothing but a cheap copy, a fling, a failure of the brain.

“You’re mine, got it,” he tries to warn you but you all but laugh at the pout in his tone. “I don’t care how handsome you think Jin is, you promised me forever first. Finders keepers and all that.”

“You’re a bit delusional, you know that?” you rub your nose against his jumper, spectacularly failing at trying to supress the smirk fighting its way onto your face.

“So what?” he scoffs, turning to scrub the dishes with far more vigour than neccessary. “It makes me happy.”

But your voice of “just talk to Jin” doesn’t leave the side of his ear. Like an overzealous mosquito it buzzes around his head at all hours of the day, at all hours of the night, round and round until Jungkook swears it makes his nose bleed.

It’s well past midnight when he finally musters up the courage to press the dial button to Jin’s number. His knee refuses to sit still and behind his back he’s crossing his fingers hoping that his friend will be asleep.

He is not.

When Jin replies with a timid “hello” he is surprisingly coherent as though he hadn’t slept at all.

“_______________ told me to give you a call,” Jungkook grouses instead of a greeting and the other line of the phone grows uncomfortably quiet.

“They’re too kind,” Jin whispers and Jungkook certainly agrees on it.

He taps his leg, bites his lip, looks at you for guidance — you’re asleep on his bed, practically knocked out because Jungkook just had to…show his love for you — and none of it helps him to get over this sudden knot growing at the base of his throat.

However, Jin beats it to him.

“I know I said it already,” he mutters miserably, voice crackingi across the connection. “But for what it’s worth, I really am sorry for doing this to you Jungkook. I wish nothing but happiness for you and _______________.”

They cry, they curse, they share their love for you and some three hours later it’s somewhat easier to breathe. The days, the weeks that Jungkook couldn’t sleep, plagued by nightmares of his light being stolen away, are wiped away with a cool hand and he rejoices in the comfort it provides. He doesn’t say I love you to Jin, he’s not yet ready for that but he knows Jin knows and he knows that Jin knows that he knows.

For now he just wants to sleep. Putting the phone away, Jungkook drops himself back into the pillow,  heaving a drawn-out sigh up against the black ceiling. He wraps his arm around your waist, kissing your neck “good night” as he always does. It’ll be alright, he reminds himself, surprisingly, it’ll all be just fine.

tagging: @pinkcherrybombs; @sukunabitch; @btsiguess-kpop; @belladaises; @seok-jinnies; @themochiverse; @cuteipat; @ratherbefangirling; @manchuria; @dreamamubarak; @anti-social-mochi; @back2bluesidex; @silverliningsandstorms; @ahewlett; @royallyjjk

 © soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023

Naurrr, this fic got me BAWLING

I AM NOT OKAY 😢 💔

summary: in which jungkook misses you before he even leaves.

idol!jungkook x reader / angst, fluff / word count: 3.7k

content/warnings: they both cry, they’re so in love and anxious of being apart 🥲 pls somebody give my babies a box of tissue damn it!!! / making out :") might be one of my favs i’ve written heh cherry koo ily

> in which masterlist!

note: hi hiii this serves as a prologue kinda to the giving up drabbles <3 and as to not confuse the timeline, this one takes place in sept 2018 and the first giving up drabble june 2019 ^^ hehe reblogs/feedback are appreciated + as always i’d love to chat abt ur thoughts 🥺

—

“i’ll call you when i arrive at the dorm, baby. let’s pack the rest of my things together, hmm?”

you hum softly in agreement, hiding your face on jungkook’s chest so he won’t see you yawn.

you’re so adorable, he thinks to himself with a grin.

matching his outfits with you in preparation for his travels has always been one of the little ways you spend quality time together. yes, you will be physically apart for most of this year and the next… but if he just pushes that fact in the back of his mind for an hour or two so he can make you laugh with his purposely horrendous choices, he thinks he may be able to leave with a lighter heart.

one last kiss is granted to your forehead, and you nuzzle your cheeks against his warm hands to cherish every ounce of his touch you can manage to steal.

you peek from the small space of the door to smile at your lover, which he then returns rife with fondness. you wave and bid your silly bye bye’s to each other, and it’s you who ultimately closes the door despite the voice in your head bewailing its protests.

it creates a clicking sound as you push it all the way, and after that, the defeaning silence fills your apartment like a toxic gas that makes it impossible to breathe. with no other soul left to witness it, your walls involuntarily come crumbling down. your eyes become blurry with unshed tears, and they fall one by one, some getting caught by your eyelashes. they hang heavy until they inevitably roll down your cheeks, as if they’re desperate not to crash and break, as if they’re horrified of their fate towards doom… much like you are.

recognizing the sensation of your weak knees threatening to give way, you lean your forehead on the hardwood to relieve some of the weight burdening your shoulders.

your chores have piled up while you were recklessly spending every second you had left with your boyfriend. you have better things to do than to cry. however, you can’t control your face that contorts to express the pain of having your heart mercilessly squeezed in your chest, tighter and tighter as the distance between you and jungkook grows, and it will only continue to do so.

you wind up as a heap on the floor, an intricate collection of love yet to be given and shards of memories calamitous and beautiful, knees hugged to your chest as you weep.

you swore you wouldn’t do this. you fucking swore you wouldn’t do this to yourself.

since losing your family, you’ve been alone, trying to survive in this world like a leaf in the eye of a storm, carried by a raging river that travels to an unknown sea. you then promised that no matter how much you affection you’ve grown to have for someone, if there comes a time that they make you feel lonely (skin-on-skin or heart-to-heart), you will be the one to walk away first. even if it hurts, even if it leaves you empty inside. for one, you’ve never liked wasting your time. you know what you want and what you need— someone who will stay within reach. your day-to-day life is far too draining for you to find the energy to beg for love and attention… and for the love of god, there’s already too many people you wish were still by your side.

your friends have witnessed you annihilate hearts and egos, leaving behind a string of jaded lovers.

but jungkook, with his bunny-like smile and endless gestures of kindness… has somehow slithered his way into a space in your heart where no one has ever been.

the apartment feels too empty with him not around. he’s not knocking rhythmically at your door from the inside to announce his arrival. he’s not in the kitchen humming songs while chopping vegetables. he’s not in the shower yelling at you because you forgot that turning on the sink makes his water cold. he’s not in the living room watching a movie on your laptop. he’s not snuggled closely with you and snoring execessively by your ear.

it’s going to be like this for a while. it’s always going to be like this, you realize.

you’re so fucking lonely.

you’ve only gotten used to him being here, and now you need to re-learn what it’s like to be without him.

you’re forced to gasp for air as you sob uncontrollably, interrupted by occasional hiccups that make your body jolt. you taste the salt in your tears as they seep into the crevice between your lips, can feel them beginning to poison your skin.

you let jungkook come too close. he slept on your bed and he learned that you’re always cold. he enveloped you in the safety of his warm embrace and you couldn’t will yourself to leave after the first time. you’ve surrendered to him the control over your body, and also your heart, which you may be breaking alongside your rule but… walking away would mean forsaking yourself.

for the first time, you are crying not because of the absence of love, but the abudance of it. humans are essentially a collection of dead stars that are brought back to life when they are consumed by the electric ache of love and yearning. you are addicted to the antidote that is the touch of another body that burns the same.

you’re free falling.

if you were to choose the cause of your madness, you would choose this.

because for the first time, you are not cursing a name, but the universe and its twisted ways. in your one-bedroom apartment, you don’t feel small; your arrogance is as big as the sun that threatens to swallow the earth whole. the empty space on your bed is now in the shape of the man who loves you.

the back of your head hits the door, and you sigh at the new predicament that presents itself to you: the fluorescent lightbulb at your doorway is flickering as if to signal its impending death.

your bad vision begs you to look away.

it’s too high. it’s too high for you to reach. jungkook isn’t here anymore.

you bury your face in your hands, another wave of tears spilling over before you could get a hold of yourself. your cries are unapologetic; you sound like a little child who got their hair pulled at the playground.

you would much rather wait for him than find a solution. you want to bear the weight of him in every possible way there is. you want to have him in mind every time you flip the light switch, because you always seem to forget that it’s dying after a long day at school.

but for now, all you can do is sit on the floor and smell his perfume on your clothes as you wait for his call.

—

jungkook is still frozen on the driver’s seat, struck with a suspicion that he left something behind in your apartment, but he can’t figure out what else there is besides his heart in the palm of your hands.

he opens up every single compartment of his backpack, but he soon carelessly discards it at the backseat because he has no idea what it is he’s even looking for.

“what is it? what is it? what is it?” he mutters absentmindedly to himself, wide doe eyes still actively darting around the car as he mulls over what could possibly be missing. “am i an idiot? am i just making things up in my head?”

but he is leaving for tour after all, it would be a big headache if he forgets to bring something important.

something important such as…

proceeding with a final inspection, he starts patting around his body, from his chest down to the pockets of his sweatpants.

“ahhh-” he makes a noise of enlightenment when he discovers one of them to be completely empty.

it then becomes vivid in his mind— the memory of him lazily setting down his wallet on your study table before he crawled on your single-sized bed as if it’s his own.

“…shit. i need to go back.”

—

he has a smirk plastered on his face as he jogs his way up to your apartment floor. radiating with pure excitement unbeknownst to himself, he even begins to skip a step with every long stride he makes across the staircase.

thanks to his forgetfulness, he found an excuse to be with you for a few minutes more.

the fourth door straight ahead, he still remembers chanting in his head the first time he visited your building on his own.

he stands before it with the intention to surprise you, but ironically, he is the one who ends up freezing in place. your muffled sobs escape through the narrow cracks of the door, and his hand slowly slips away from the handle until it drops back to his side. his vision becomes unfocused, mind going blank, only registering the shortness of his breath and the powerful punch to his gut.

that sweet, heart-fluttering smile that comforted him must’ve killed you inside.

—

“i won’t forget to call after every show.”

“that does sound nice but…” you scrunch your nose cutely. “i won’t be upset, if that’s what you’re worried about. go straight to sleep when you’re exhausted. i know you won’t have much time to rest.”

“please! you can watch me sleep too.” he pouts. “you know i always make it work. while i eat, while i shower! that won’t change. i need to see you and gain strength… or else i seriously think i won’t survive this one.”

and jungkook hopes that he’s not too much of a burden for loving you.

although, you did tell him once in passing— that anyone can be passionate, but not everyone will bravely go on stage every night to showcase those passions, even if it means testing the very limits of the human body.

“i can’t allow that to happen, can i?” you click your tongue, copying the angry frown of your boyfriend, who you find so, so, so cool.

his features soften after you pinch his soft cheek.

“your hyungs might kill me if i make their little one mope around missing me too much.”

“w-what do you mean?” he becomes flushed with embarrassment. “what kind of things do they tell you?!”

“nothing much.” your eyes shine with a glint of faux innocence. “when we were trainees, jungkook did this… since meeting you, he’s gotten more stubborn… can you tell him to wake up earlier if he plans on showering for an hour? you know, just things like that.”

“aish! jimin-hyung!” he releases a deep sigh to express his exasperation, knitted forehead not doing much to diminish the roundness of his eyes. “i bet one of them is jimin-hyung! i’m right, aren’t i? you- you’re getting too close with him! i can’t allow this- really, i- ah! no! no!”

the burst of laughter that fills the room only confirms his suspicion. you roll over on the bed to cover your face, half of your body collapsing on top of his, and you clutch your aching belly when he begins to aggressively shake you in a joking manner.

“listen, you can’t become best friends! you hear me? don’t! my secrets… what’s going to happen to them? who else can i tell them to?!”

immediately recognizing his poor choice of words once they have left his mouth, jungkook purses his lips in regret, and it’s his turn to feel his lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.

“oh, really?” you slowly sit up as you stare at him with raised eyebrows. “and what kind of secrets do you need to keep from me? huh?”

he doesn’t waste a second to reply, scrambling as to not leave any space for you to formulate more doubts in your head.

“nothing! nothing, baby!” he flashes a dreamy smile in return to your sharp glare. he gently cups the back of your head to pull you back closer, puckering his lips as he tries to meet you halfway. “come here- give me a kiss.”

you ignore his advances, moving away from him with a scoff you don’t even bother to hide. the annoyance bubbling up inside of you feels irrational, and yet you can’t stop it from controlling your body language.

his jaw slacks in disappointment. he despises being denied affection, more importantly, a kiss meant to be shared with you.

“are you mad?”

you turn your back against him, scooting closer to the edge of the bed, but jungkook doesn’t waste time in chasing after you.

“baby!” he whines, seizing your arm and tightly embracing you from the side before you can escape. “i was just joking- i promise- i swear. you’re even the first person i share my secrets with nowadays!”

you sigh in defeat, eyes fluttering shut as you allow him to caress your face and pepper your cheek with loving kisses. loud, and slightly wet, which you used to not be fond of when it came to the lovers you had before, but as for jungkook and his dewy lips, you weirdly don’t seem to mind.

“please don’t be mad.” he coos lightheartedly before ducking his head to press his lips against yours. “i don’t want us to fight before i go.”

“i’m not mad.” your reply is quiet, and it drips with hesitance. “i just don’t want to think about you having secrets while you’re away.”

you turn to communicate directly with his eyes. if you feel sick to your stomach imagining him as a person you’d never have the grace to forgive, you don’t show it.

“you understand where i’m coming from, right?”

he meekly nods.

this is another reason why he is eager to spend all his free time with you, albeit through a screen smaller than the palm of his hand, and perhaps buy you trinkets from every city that welcomes him because everything reminds him of you. he wants to give you the reassurance that he doesn’t have any plans on doing something that may hurt you. this will be excruciating, he knows, but it is also a chance to prove himself as a boyfriend worthy of your tears and sacrifices. this can’t end before it begins. he doesn’t think he’d be able to bear that. he just celebrated his first birthday with you. it hasn’t been long since you uttered the three words he’s been anxiously waiting to hear.

“i love you. please give me your trust for now… i won’t waste it. you’ll see, at the end of this, we’ll be stronger. i promise i won’t forget my responsibilities as your partner even if we’re physically apart.”

he tenderly strokes your hair, eyes filled with galaxies memorizing every inch of your face. he’s scared, too. he’s scared that he’s overestimating himself. too ambitious, too greedy for wanting both the world and the most beautiful person he has ever seen in it to love him. he’s scared of getting too exhausted. he’s scared that you won’t be there anymore when he opens his eyes.

“i will probably mope around, though, missing you too much…” he pauses, then he makes up his mind.

him getting more stubborn since he met you— it might just have some truth to it that he’s too sheepish to say out loud, especially if his members were around to hear it.

“yes, i will seriously be a handful.” he nods to himself. “so i’m already apologizing early.”

“what are those responsibilities exactly?”

“to show you that i love you!” he exclaims in a tone that screams obviously. “to make you happy, to keep you safe… to stay committed to you- yah, you already know these things!”

but still, it’s nice to hear him say it. this bed of roses is a bed of thorns; he has chosen to sleep on it with you.

you giggle heartily at the sight of his face getting flushed. “you’ve been doing a great job then, baby.”

the praise causes his doe eyes to sparkle with glee. “really?”

“really!” his heart skips a beat when you softly cup his face in your hands, wearing that kind smile he can’t help but fall in love with over and over again. “don’t worry, i won’t let you miss me too much. i have my share of the responsibilities too.”

—

he swallows the lump in his throat, shakily sitting on the floor with his back against the door. he doesn’t know how long he stays there. he only knows that it’s near sunrise because the lights across the hallways have gone out one by one.

with an elbow resting on top of his knee, he fiddles with the laces of his shoe with no rhythm or rhyme— silently crying with you, clueless as to what he should do. he didn’t learn about this in school, nor during dance practices. no one teaches you what to do when you hurt a person you love but there’s no fault to fix and apologize for.

every now and then, a tenant passes by, and he is overwhelmed with the urge to scream at them to fuck off and mind their own business.

adding to his frustration is his phone, which has been vibrating with calls and text messages. he only spares them a dismissive glance before clicking the off button. yes, he fucking knows it’s already 5am. yes, he’s still with his baby. however, he is forced to send a reply to his manager when asked if they could finish packing his luggages for him to save time. no. no, no, no.

on the other side of the door, the pitter-patter of mechanical rain tickles your ears. your nimble fingers doesn’t cease on tapping on the keyboard even as your eyes stray to the contact name above the conversation, just to make sure that it’s your boyfriend you’re texting.

to: my jungkook

babyyy the sun is about to rise

so i’m not sleepy anymore :(

you're not home yet?

wait. if you're still driving just reply later

be a good driver before a good bf for now ☺️

ohoh i don’t mind if you don't have time to call anymore. just text me rq before you take off pleaseee so i know you're safe and sound

and after the flight ofc!! 😭

i love you! ❤️

seconds later, a pounding at the door makes your body jolt in shock. you carelessly rush to stand up, the safety measure of looking through the peephole not even crossing your mind before you swing it open.

jungkook stuns you with his presence, chest heaving with every breath as he studies you in a fog of haze. your messy hair perfectly frames your pretty face. your parted lips are raw from the crime of your sharp teeth forcibly putting an end to your crying. your eyes are still damp with tears, and they shine every time the warm light hanging above your head flickers.

if you could only read his mind, you won’t have to worry about him wanting anybody else.

once again, he finds himself helplessly infatuated. why do you have to look utterly bewitching even when you cry? fuck, and your texts… how did he get so lucky? you fuel something carnal inside of him that he has difficulty putting into words.

and so, he allows his actions to speak for himself.

“jungk-” his name is interrupted with a high-pitched whimper caught in your throat. your trembling hands desperately grasp the sides of his hoodie as you stumble backwards, struggling to recriprocate the unrestrained fervour of his kisses.

he’s out of control. he has never kissed you like this before. you don’t know if he doesn’t feel your weak fists punching his chest or he just doesn’t care. you feel dizzy… dizzy, dizzy, dizzy.

you’re confused why he’s still standing at your doorway. you’re terrified of losing your balance. you’re crushing a pair of sneakers underneath the soles of your feet and it hurts. but his fingers are tightly tangled with your hair, the others playing a saccharine hymn along the keys of your spine, and for the pleasure he gives, you can endure to live with the pain.

the familiar taste of mint on his tongue is far too addictive for you not to indulge. you can’t stop craving for more of it, more of him, and you let your lungs burn.

but soon it mixes with the salt in his tears as his emotions crash on the shore like a tsunami. the seal of your lips is broken by a quiet sob, and in shame, he ends the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

“____, what do i do? i don’t want to leave.”

your heart shatters into pieces as he sniffles, voice cracking as he musters up the courage to confess to you in between.

“jungkook…”

the words of sincerity feel heavy on his tongue. he’s never been good at this; always relied on his ability to feel. in spite of that, he wants to bare all of himself to you, and he prays that you believe him when he says- “i can’t imagine my life without you anymore.”

“so don’t. you don’t have to think about things like that.” you sigh as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, subtly swaying your bodies to soothe him. “come on, love. why are you crying…? you know where to find me, don’t you?”

you feel him nod before he mumbles pensively. “here… or school, or the restobar.”

“that’s right.” you chuckle. “just don’t lose your key. i’m not going anywhere.”

but he fears it’s his goddamn mind he might just lose. he squeezes his eyes shut, embracing you tighter as he counts the seconds in his head. he will let go after thirty, then perhaps he will stay for another ten.

in another lifetime, jungkook wishes that he could tell you the same.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

My girlllll I missed u

👋🏻 Hello Hello 👋🏻

I bet you didn’t think you’d hear from me again, did you? Well, for a limited time I’m coming back to tumblr to do some more writing to occupy myself during the summer break!

If you have any requests (reactions only pls!) check out my list of who I write for and let me know what you’d like to see 💕💕

Thinking about Jealous Hobi

Hobi x Reader

Warnings: Suggestive, not proofread

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this, I hope you like it!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

He can never understand how you manage to bring out this side of him, trying desperately to push down the green-eyed, possessive feeling rising in his chest, but he knows it's useless.

Normally he loves seeing you enjoying yourself with the others, but there are certain gazes from certain people that make his blood heat beneath his skin, nearly burning him from the inside out.

He becomes unusually quiet as he watches you, eyes growing darker with each moment, until he can't take it anymore.

Wordlessly, he slips over to you, winding his arms around you waist, shooting what start off as passively hinted looks at the target of your attention, but will increase to poisonous glares if they don't get the hint and back off fast enough.

He knows he should feel guilty, he honestly wants to, but all he can feel in that moment is satisfaction at having you to himself again.

He suggests going home earlier than usual, his sudden possessiveness making his grip a little tighter, hands roaming a little further. You can hear the shift come over him, his voice growing deeper with each mumbled endearment. "My angel." "My sweet baby." "Mine."

It's a long night - PJM and KNJ

Pairing: Ceo!Namjoon X female Reader X Ceo!Jimin

Word count: 2.3k words

Warnings: SMUT. threesome. Dom jimin. Switch Namjoon. Sub reader. Fingering. Oral (f receiving). Slight orgasm delay. Unprotected Penetrative sex (don't please?). Jimin is a menace. Namjoon cries (it's purely out of pleasure, guys). MATURE. 18+

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The moment you entered the hotel suite with heels clacking and stumbling feet, you were instantly sandwiched between a wall and the bigger, taller male that so deviously wanted to devour you. Meanhile jimin snickers over how Namjoon desperately pants in your mouth, locking the door on his way inside. 

No matter how sober you are, you feel the lust rush up to your head making your mind fuzzy. While you grab his collar with one hand and his neck with the other, he pulls down the straps of your dress and hikes up your skirt, squeezing whatever flesh he could grab.

You feel his fingers snake their way from your thighs to your head, making the satin material bunch up at your hips. He pulls your hair occasionally, making you moan in his mouth. You feel his head being pulled at and you open your eyes to see Jimin holding his hair and pulling his head back. Whispering something in his ears, he makes eye contact with you as he bites Joon’s earlobe making you both moan. 

Jimin has been teasing you since the evening, the small but wet kisses and the intense stares. He came into your dressing room while you were almost ready, bent you in front of a mirror, and rubbed you as you helplessly begged him to get his fingers inside.

Worst part? He didn't make you cum. 

Since then, every touch of his was making you go mental, him grabbing your inner thighs with his thick fingers under the table. So close but so far. 

He made you weak in the knees, almost made you ready to suck him off in the car but he was just testing your patience. He was all dressed up in his black $6000 suit and yet you wanted to just get him out of it. 

Also, Namjoon being there in his all-black outfit didn't do you very well. Especially when he took off his blazer and covered you up with it because your wrap-on was not enough to keep the chills away. 

He didn't realize but you kept on staring at how his muscles bulged at every movement of his chest and arms and oh! how badly you wanted him to throw you around and fuck you stupid. 

For the outside world, you were a beautiful woman, traveling the world for photography projects and trying new cuisines and cultures. Always seen together with your two male companions. Some even think you might be dating one of them and the other is a mutual friend. But nobody knows that you equally loved and cherished two of the most popular business entities in Seoul, Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin, and vice versa 

You were nervous and fidgety at the start of the relationship, you didn't even know if you should've called the three of you that? thinking about the what ifs and what would happen if someone found out? Also, internally fighting your thoughts about how this would work, emotionally. 

Namjoon assured you that this would remain a secret, and nothing would be against your consent, you could end this anytime you want, also stating, they would love you so much you wouldn't want to leave. 

And he was right, you don't ever want to. You love them both, they love you equally and they can fuck you like no one ever has and nobody ever would be able to. They know their way around your body, what makes your eyes roll, what makes you gasp, and how to make your toes curl. Just like this night.

Stumbling inside the suite, Namjoon picked you up by your thighs after Jimin undressed you, leaving you only in your panties. You reach the edge of the bed making out with Joon while Jimin's body warmth leaves from around you. 

Laying you down on the bed, namjoon trails his lips down your neck to your nipples. Trying to find Jimin you reach your hand out absentmindedly, calling his name desperately. The mattress dips next to you and you see him sitting next to you with his shirt open as he sipped wine from his glass, smiling.

This man is gonna be your death.

"Jimin" you whine when namjoon reaches your inner thighs, kissing, licking, biting, making you clutch the sheets with one hand and your boob with the other. 

"Yes baby, I'm right here" he coos, flicking away a strand of hair that's sticking to your forehead. You whine, trembling in Namjoon's hold as he mouths at your clothed pussy. 

"Please joonie fuck-" you hear both of them chuckle at your impatience. Turning your head sideways you squeeze your eyes shut. 

"Poor baby, do you wanna cum?" Jimin asks, smirk audible in his voice. 

"Y-yes fuck-" You cry out. 

"Should we make her cum hyung?" Jimin coos at you, grazing his knuckles on your cheeks so gently it makes you mewl. 

Namjoon lifts his head with a smile and looks at Jimin, "I don't know, should we?" He says that in his throaty voice which makes you clench around nothing. You whine, shaking and throbbing while they look at you with their dark and lust-filled gazes.

Chuckling at your twitchy body, Namjoon removes your laced panty. Dipping his thumb in your hole he places his now-slicked thumb on your clothed clit and starts drawing short circles making you shut your legs at the sudden stimulation.

Namjoon forces your legs open with a growl, "Don't. Hide." You almost fold in half when he doesn't waste time and attaches his mouth to your cunt. Sucking at your bud and creating a torturous pattern, you see stars.

Your back arches and you whine, clutching onto Jimin's arm for dear life. Jimin breathes heavily through his nose as he watches the scene with a hand rubbing his hard-on. Namjoon eats you up like he was starving. You feel your legs closing but the man between your legs prevents you from doing that. 

"Fuck yes! Yes!" You lift your hips trying to rut in his face but namjoon stops you by placing his hand on your abdomen.

You come in his mouth as he laps at your slick, nails digging in Jimin's forearms as you hear him curse under his breath. When you settle down from your high, you notice how heavy all of your breaths are. Namjoon kisses your inner thighs trying to soothe your burning skin.

"Hyung, hold her open for me." Jimin suddenly says with a dark stare, tongue licking his full bottom lips. He watches hungrily how namjoon kisses your cunt as it oozed slick, before leaning away at his command. Jimin gets up, eyes locked on your cunt, and shivers travel up your spine. 

He might be smaller than Namjoon but he had all the control over you and the bigger male. Both, you and him wouldn't want to displease Jimin. 

Namjoon instantly gets up and sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you up against his chest easily. Your head falls against his shoulder, chest heaving, hair messed up, makeup smudged. Perfectly fucked out, they think. 

You watch Jimin get on his knees in front of you still looking at your exposed center, as namjoon lifts your knees up to your chest. Holding your knees above his elbows, opening you wide, folding you in half. 

"Fuck baby, you're soaking," Jimin whispers, more like whispering to himself. 

He rubs your slit with his fingers making nasty squelching sounds and your face heats up in embarrassment. You notice with hooded eyes how both men are almost fully clothed, Jimin with his shirt unbuttoned, while namjoon is still dressed.  

You inhale sharply through your teeth when Jimin parts your folds with his fingers and rubs directly at your clit with his middle finger, making you gasp. Glancing at you for a second he spits on your pussy and watches it drip down so that he can rub it with his finger.

"Jimin, fuck please." You beg him against Namjoon's mouth, teeth clashing. He could taste the tears that were flowing out of your eyes as you kissed him with everything you had.

Namjoon groans in your ear at the way you react to Jimin's fingers, while the said person just stares at your pussy. Staring at the way your thighs shake and your cunt leaks. Leaning in he looks up from behind his black locks, he smirks before entering his tongue in your hole.

You're close, you know it, your legs try to close at the overstimulation but namjoon parts them more, giving jimin more space to burry his face inside. The tongue entering you and swirling around was making you dizzy. You clutched at namjoons hair, kissing him hard.

Your eyes tear up at the slow ministrations of his mouth, and you already feel the orgasm building up in your stomach, but it's so slow you might lose your mind.

"You wanna cum baby?" Jimin coos.

"Y-yes-"

"Make her cum Jimin ah, please," Namjoon begs, out of breath as he watches you with a dizzy expression. Jimin raises an eyebrow at him. He trails his hand to Namjoons inner thigh. He squeezes the clothed flesh, making his breath hitch. 

When you first met Jimin you immediately noticed how he always made people shy and flustered around him. He has this effect on people that they might end up on their knees if he told them to. 

Namjoon was one of those people, too. 

Jimin squeezed his thigh and never has namjoon hated anything more than the trousers he is wearing right now. 

"Make her cum yourself, then." 

He gets up, leaving both of you confused, but before you can comprehend anything, Namjoon doesn't think much and acts fast. Lifting you up slightly he lets his cock free, he groans in pleasure at the slightest friction. 

You both moan lewdly when he enters you, and your eyes roll back at the stretch. You could feel him rearranging you from the inside, hitting all the deep spots. Jimin sits across you, watching with his dick in his hand, slowly stroking, focusing on you. 

You bounce on Namjoon's cock absentmindedly, mumbling nonsense as you near your climax. You both groan and grunt in pleasure. You can feel it, and so does Namjoon. Jimin notices how close you are, and how close namjoon is to his climax. 

He smirks. 

"Do not cum, hyung."

Fucking hell.

"Oh please no-" Namjoon babbles. 

"I. Said. Dont."

"No no no, please n-no" his voice cracks. 

"Jimin I-I am gonna-" you cry out.

"Go on baby cum for me." Jimin smiles, stroking his cock faster, totally enjoying the way namjoon loses his mind. The squelches of Jimin jerking his cock off hurriedly, moaning and breathing so heavily makes you tip off the edge

"F-fuck no-" namjoon tears up when he feels your orgasm for a moment before he lifts your body urgently as he falls backward on the bed. He literally needs to fist the bottom of his dick as you rub yourself to release everything, gaining support with your hand on his knee. Jimin squirts his cum simultaneously all over his hand, growling deeply and darkly as he watches you shaking and gasping out in pleasure, almost tipping off the bed as you lose slight balance. 

Walking up to you Jimin leans down and kisses you while helping you get off Namjoons tortured dick. Laying you on the bed he kisses you on your forehead. He pushes himself up and walks towards the older man down on the bed. His body is sweaty and his dick is in his hand, eyes squeezed shut. 

Cooing at Namjoons red face and purple dick, he lies beside him. He props himself on his elbow, with his body sideways, and faces the older male. 

"Don't ever tell me what to do next time, yeah, hyung?" Jimin says softly while he grabs his jaw firmly, holding eye contact with the breathy man. 

"You are evil," Namjoon says with a clenched jaw, his eyes teary and face red with frustration. "I know, hyungie, but only I can make you come, yeah? Only I can let you come." Jimin chuckles, releasing him from his hold. 

"Let me cum.." he breathes out, chest heaving. 

You watch everything tiredly, not able to move your body as a tear falls from Namjoon's eye. Kissing the corner of Namjoon's lips, he holds his dick making him whine, and you feel your breath hitche at the scene unfolding in front of you.

You watch as Jimin strokes Joon's dick slowly, both men groaning as the older one shakes in pleasure and pain. You know your body is all spent up but you can feel your clit throbbing at the sounds both men make.

"Please, jimin, please!"  

'Make him cum please', its like a mantra is going on in your head, but you still wanna see how this goes so you keep your mouth shut. Because you know how bomb those held off orgasms feel like.

They part from each other with dizzy eyes. "Fuck." You sigh out grabbing both their attentions as they look at you at the same time. "I knowwww" Joon drags the word whining in his throaty voice, "Fuck." he sighs smiling with droopy eyes as his head falls tiredly on the mattress under him, as Jimin gets up chuckling. 

"Cum, hyung." He whispers and you, although thoroughly spent, groan as the bigger male reaches his high. Jimin bites Namjoon's earlobe, increasing the pace of his strokes.

He cries out, and you think you hear him sob in relief. Pulling Jimin in a rushed kiss, cumming all over his hand, you watch them make out, breathy, sweaty, and nastily noisy as Jimin milks his cock dry. Smiling in the kiss, he keeps on pecking Joon's plump lips as he just exhales heavy breaths, trying to gain his senses back.

"I'll bring you both some water."

You try getting up and reaching for your underwear that almost got torn apart when Jimin interrupts by clearing his throat. He has one of his eyebrows raised and you pause. 

"I am not done with you both yet, rest. It's a very long night." Saying that he leaves, and you lock your eyes with Namjoon. You don't say anything, but you both see the realization on each other's faces. 

"We're all gonna be so sore tomorrow," Namjoon says chuckling and you smile at the padding footsteps just outside the room.

oh, It's gonna be a long night.