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I’m Not Yours | kth. masterlist

“When the rain stops you shine on me, your light’s the only thing that keeps the cold out.”

↠ pairing : Kim Taehyung x Female Reader

↠ summary : When your childhood best friend, Kim Taehyung moves back into town, you expect the next few years to be reminiscent of your younger years. Awkward, tense and quiet. What you don’t expect is being forced to distract him from his overbearing crush on your mutual best friend, Eunji.

↠ genre : university au, estranged childhood friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, idiots to lovers, art student!taehyung, literature student!reader, angst, fluff & smut

↠ rating : 18+

↠ warnings : swearing, mentions of anxiety and depression, bad & toxic friends, lots of feelings, small forms of violence (with other characters), explicit sexual content. (additional warnings will be given with each chapter!)

↠ banner : by the sweetest @lavienvante 🤎 thank you so much for making me the prettiest banner!! <3 go check out her works 🤎

↠ a/n : here is the masterlist for my first series! i am beyond excited to share this with you & i hope you enjoy this journey as much as i do! happy reading <3

↠ series song : christmas tree - taehyung (the lyrics fit this series oh so perfectly 🤎)

❦ chapter 1 : a lane in the public gardens at arles - 1888 [7K]

❦ chapter 2 : water lilies and japanese bridge - 1899 [10K]

❦ chapter 3 : the weeping woman - 1937 [coming soon…]

❦ chapter 4 : at eternity’s gate - 1890

❦ chapter 5 : poppy field - 1886

❦ chapter 6 : the night cafe - 1888

❦ chapter 7 : snow at argenteuil - 1874

❦ chapter 8 : almond blossoms - 1890

❦ chapter 9 : the artist’s garden at giverny - 1900

❦ chapter 10 : view from the artist’s window - 1823

❦ epilogue : the starry night - 1889

❦ extras :

↠ glossary - a closer insight to the iny!world & characters. here you can find the answers to any important questions and information about the characters. this will be added to as the story goes on.

↠ playlist - have a listen to their songs (thank you @lavienvante for helping 🤎)

↠ your thoughts - a collection of our thoughts

start date : 30.12.21 || 00:00 KST

finish date :

↠ FAQ :

how often will you update?

updates for this series will be random! i will be writing as much as i can in my free time. i am busy right now with my jobs & uni, so my updates will be scheduled around that. i do however, work on this series daily and love seeing what everyone has to say about it <3

how i envision y/n & eunji?

here you can find moodboards that portray how i personally see both y/n & eunji !! you’re all open to your own interpretation of course, but i wanted to share mine :) feel free to show me how you paint them in your minds!

how i envision iny!tae?

here you can find a variety of pictures that i feel remind me of taehyung in this story. everyone is of course entitled to envision whatever they want to. also, these taehyung’s are not just iny!tae , they can well be a taehyung in another writers story. please understand that i am not gatekeeping any of these taehyung’s to my story.

subscribed - MYG

↣ you find out that youtube isn’t the only site he uses to satisfy his subscribers. what do you do with that information?

༄moodboard

pairing — asmr artist/camboy!yoongi x reader

genre/rating — R | fluff, smut, s2l, college au

word count — 15K [excluding the texts]

warnings/tags — strong language, same au as ‘whipped,’ cocky yoongi 🥴, GINGER yoongi !! (a warning in itself), oh god flirting, unhygienic sharing of a lollipop, yoongi is down bad, sexting, exchange of explicit images, ex-bf!yeonjun, mentions of alcohol, y/n is obsessed with the color purple, hand kink, voice kink, breast kink ofc, drool play, harmless stalking, pda, just guys being dudes, bad pickup lines, one jealous roommate, explicit smut — use of a vibrator + flogger, slight masochism, masturbation (f & m), voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, biting/scratching, degradation, name-calling, tongue sucking, a few slaps, oral (f & m), brief boob job, hickeys, deep throating, clit pinching, pussy slapping, spanks, rimming, brief handjob, edging, hair pulling, choking, nipple play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms + positions, reverse cowgirl, unprotected sex, cumshots, post-sex cuddles

a/n — ah another fic about my love for yoongi’s hands + voice sjjdkske (for the sexy pics, I don’t include any to try & be as reader inclusive as possible) when you’re reading the chats don’t swipe bc there’s commentary in between okay? okay 😤

Just like any other Friday evening, you poke your head around the doorframe in annoyance, glaring at the RA who continues to yell at the boisterous students. Counterproductive threats booming out down the hallway, just as noisy as the rest of them. Quickly rushing back inside your room, you fix your pigtails and give your reflection a small nod before stepping out again, leaning on the notice board with a playful smile on your face, arms folded.

“Namjoon!”

Keep reading

I remember reading this back when! Fun quirky story 😋

Reader's fears are more than justified, I'd be hella pissed too! Breaking promises in a drunk stupor? How dare our dad do that!! (Though Yoongi hints at having the same age as the reader, which in that society was a sentence, so maybe waiting to fall in love was not working?...)

Fortunately, Reader hit the MF jackpot - it's Yoongi and he's quaint and interested in actually cherishing his wife whom he only married out of necessity?

Ahhhh, we're really dreaming here and I'm just as delulu 🤪

Or maybe it was the lingerie... a corset goes a long way... Lady Eleanor def set the reader up for success 😏🔥

I just love period stories, and this one is filled with detail. Sprinkles of "Seoulshire", "Daehurst", and "Upton Busan" made me giggle; cute!

— a wager of lords & love | myg

♔ pairing: noble!yoongi x noble!reader

♔ au/genre: regency era au, arranged marriage au, s2l, fluff, smut, angst

♔ rating: M

♔ wc: 6,813

⚔ warnings: reader’s mom is not alive, era-appropriate sexism, sex jokes, pet names, bedding ceremony, explicit smut: fingering, marking, light breast play, oral (female receiving), vaginal penetration, multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, you will fall so hard for yoongi. 

♔ an: this story was written for Leah | @colormepurplex2​ as part of the BangtanWHQ Valentine’s Event “Picture Perfect”. Thank you to my beta readers: @downbad4yoongi​, @peachiilovesot7​, and @moonleeai​; this story was so much fun to write. Your feedback, as always, was valuable to making not only this story at it’s best but also making my day better when reading your comments. I love regency era au’s and this one only made me fall even more madly in love with Yoongi, and I hope you will too! Please enjoy!

“What in heaven’s name did I do last night?”

Continuar a ler

I love Gods AUs, and the idyllic glimpse we're allowed to take as mere mortals to watch the stories that turn into legends unfold.

The web of fate, the lines of destiny, the inevitability of prophecies and the inescapable essence of the human condition - I could go on. It's such an intricate world, it's impossible not to wait with bated breath and gasp when the threads are pulled and finally unfold.

The forbidden fruit is the essence of most Greek tales, as is the inevitability of fate, and both are mixed here very well. The incorporation of BTS as gods was cute, and Jungkook as Dionysus was, to me, unexpected, but makes the story's gears turn nicely. The apex is definitely worth it, and I don't mean just the smut. Its only sin is not taking more time to flash out certain tensions to make the payoff even greater, but it wraps up nicely 🎀

—ambrosia & nectar [M] jjk

Ambrosia & Nectar [Dionysus!Jungkook x Phanessa!Reader]

⟢ credit: @kooksoshook & @bvrfilter jk edits, @hisunshiine banner

⟢ genre: angst | smut | fluff | one-shot

⟢ rating: 18+ | mature themes & explicit content

⟢ warnings + kinks: liberties taken with greek mythology, minor mentions of greek incest because inevitable, minor talk of minor characters dying, ot7 are greek gods, suspense, infidelity (in terms of going against future arranged marriage plans), cursing, overuse of ‘my love’, JK in a skirt (pteruge) LOL, sexual teasing, jealousy, kissing, marking, everyone is half naked, clit biting, squirting, spanking, face fucking, size kink, dirty talk, overstimulation, masturbation, cum play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, sleep cockwarming, non-sexual degradation, mentions of aggression against reader, mentions of murder, mentions of weapons

⟢ wc: 5k+

⟢ summary: you’re in love with jungkook, the god of fertility & wine, but promised to the god of war. jungkook is in love with you, but promised to the god of fire. when an illicit lover’s tryst is brought to light, will the Fates cut your string? or will divine intervention prevent you from a most terrible fate?  

⟢ teaser: “I can’t kill you, I love you too much.”

⟢ author’s note: so Prof Bee asked me if i had a story in mind at 8pm and i was like uhh.. then i sat there until 6:30am writing this. i’ve had this idea rolling around in my head for ages, and i am glad to finally be able to use phanessa in a story, as i clearly am a self-indulgent whore for jungkook, but wbk! ♡ thank you to @bangtanhome​ and @ressjeon for reading and hyping!! ♡ i hope you enjoy! ♡ 

❂ To The Lighthouse  

⁂ Hosted by: Professor Bee through @bangtansorciere

⤐  AU Type: Trident’s Tides - Soulmates

⤐  Themes: God/Goddess | Secret Relationship

⤐  Kinks: Clit Biting, Squirting, Spanking, Face Fucking, Size Kink, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Masturbation, Cum Play

“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.” - The Symposium by Plato.

PROLOGUE:

Khronos, the primordial god of time, and Ananke, the goddess of necessity, existed since the dawn of creation. Their first child, Phanes, gave way to the first wave of mankind, as it was a need for the gods to be worshipped. Thanks to the interweaving of time within him, Phanes’s life cycle ending was inevitable.

This wreaked havoc upon Ananke, who begged for another child, one who could live eternal. At the time, the Titans, children of Uranus and Gaia, were embroiled in a battle against each other. Chronus, the titan, overthrew his father, and mated his sister, Rhea. They birthed several Olympian gods, and as fate would have it, his own son, Zeus, repeated this cycle. He overthrew him, mated his sister, Hera, and began anew on Mount Olympus. 

Humans on Earth threatened the gods, and in an attempt to punish them for their pride, Zeus separated them from their mates, and thus mankind as we know it was created.

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stay (3tan) (m) | myg

title: stay (the weekend, pt. 2) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball   rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after almost a whole weekend of misses, you and yoongi finally hit your stride. and after almost a whole year of almosts, you finally capture those moments you’ve been waiting for.  warnings: cursing, choking, protected sex, penetration, more overthinking, fingering, restraints (his hands), cunnilingus, body worship, spanking, cockwarming, his hands yall don’t say i didn’t warn you, breast play, sl*t mentions, light slapping, …a mirror……., a jk appearance…, min yoongi in general, does fluff count as a warning bc i think it rly should lol note: uhh. surprise? >:) happy start of minmarch ig lolol. thank you to my lovelies @sugakookitty​ @yoon2k​ and @joheunsaram​ for being amazing betas as usual and putting up w me !! :’)) and a huge thanks to everyone that’s been encouraging and supportive along the way. this part is the biggest yet and i wanna say so much here but i will refrain. there will just be lots in the author’s note at the end :) and yoongi? screw you for spoiling everyone way too much this time around LMAO note 2: oh! if you haven’t read the rest of the three tangerines series, i highly encourage you to read those before this one! it would make more sense.  drop date: march 2nd, 2022, 7:17pm est  word count: 18.6k!!! HUH..

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What the fuck was that sound?

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boo..yah! | pjm (m.)

pairing : fratboy!jimin x fem!reader

summary : you’ve been hoping that Taehyung will get the message when you keep on ignoring him for months now but what if his very inviting best friend offers something that will for sure relay your answer?

rating : 18+

genre : college!au, friends to lovers? (not really), pwp-ish?, smut, halloween party!au

word count : 7.2k

warnings : crude language, explicit sexual content, alcohol consumption, voyeurism, exhibitionism (on the balcony yolo), fingering, spanking, hair pulling, pussy and breasts fondling, protected sex (cuz it’s a must), edging, consensual drunk sex (they’re only buzzed), Jimin is a demon so don’t be fooled, also some It spoilers ig 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n: we’re finally back after 3 months so pls excuse my writing lmao 😭. it’s very late but this is for the Jimin’s Sunset Spooktober event hosted by my lovelies @opaljm​, @chateautae​ & @jamaisjoons​. thank you @knjsnoona​ & @balenciaguks​ for this sexy banner 🤤 and to @taegularities​​ for letting me write this ilysm <3

― prequel to “Hot Boy Summer” by riddie 🫶🏼

You roll your eyes as you enter the frat house after hearing that participating in the frat’s Halloween games is a requirement for free booze. If you didn’t want to be pissed drunk tonight you would’ve left this party at once.

But one of the frat’s higher-ups, Kim Seokjin insisted on it since he organized the events for the night. Each person who enters the house must pick an activity to do, whether it’s playing with ouija boards, actually going to a haunted house near the cemetery for hide and seek, watching a scary movie, etc.

And since you’re a fucking pussy you pick the movie marathon since it’s the safest one. It’s cold outside and you don’t wanna trudge with your white pumps in the woods even if you’re wearing black thigh socks, plus you’ll get the first choice on which booze you wanna start drinking while watching.

Czytaj dalej

BESTIE WE NEED MORE JIMIN X PRINCESS FICS. SPECIFICALLY SUB JIMIN DOM PRINCESS FICS. SPECIFICALLY POST SOWOZOO SUB JIMIN DOM PRINCESS FICS DO U RMB IN THE YOONGI ONE WHERE JIMIN APPARENTLY HAD MARKS THAT WERE TOO LOW TO BE EXPOSED MAAM WE’RE ASKING RESPECTFULLY 🙏🙏🙏

HELLO BESTIE THERE YOU GO!!!!!!!!!! I know I've been slacking with these two BUT I have a juicy plan for them. They'll have an amazing development AS SOON AS I stop jumping into collabs head first without thinking. Hopefully it'll be out this winter. I just need to get in angst hurt2comfort mood.

Anyway, here's a drabble to quench your thirst FOR NOW

Pairing: Park Jimin x reader (nicknamed Princess)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Genre: smut, pwp, established relationship

Rating: 18+; minors, do not interact

Synopsis: After his performance at Soowoozoo, you want to reward your boyfriend and help him relax after the show.

Trigger warnings: swearing, soft pleasure-domme!reader, soft sub!Jimin, very whiny Jimin, spanking, praising kink, safewording (not because of boundaries), masturbation male and female receiving, cumshot on breasts, penis and testicles worship, marking, oral sex male receiving, balls sucking, deepthroating, ass play, anal fingering, overstimulation. Jimin calls Princess 'Mistress' at some point. Crying after sex (because of emotional release). Mention of sex deprivation. Very soft aftercare.

A/N: all my gratitude goes to @s0seo for beta reading this mess of a drabble. It was really chaotic since I wrote it with several attempts all taking place after 2am when syntax and common sense entirely abandon me. You were a literal sweetheart, bby 🥰 and then the wifey, @joheunsaram (im kicking gad jk's ass after im done posting this). Also yes, i love you and our shared platonic fondness for feet.

Now that I'm done being romantic af, here is my masterlist!

Enjoy 💜✨

⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂

“Park Jimin.”

From the tone of your voice alone, Jimin knew he was in for trouble. He didn’t know why yet, he’d been a good boy. He was sure of it.

He had done absolutely nothing inappropriate. He’d simply delivered what the choreography expected, he did not add tongue or hips or “accidental” partial nudity.

Well, he had decided to remove his jacket and show off his lean torso in a tank top, which he knew was pretty flimsy, but that wasn’t a crime. It was too hot outside.

“Princess?”

“Living room. Now.”

Once he arrived, he noticed you were in comfy house clothes. No hard domme in sight, then.

But with a fateful second of delay, he spotted the paddle on top of the table. “No, I’ve been good!” he opposed, pointing to the toy and preparing himself for the bickering.

You tutted and patted your thighs. “It’s not a punishment, love.”

He calmed himself, scaling down his spite to a little frown.

“I got in the mood and I thought you would see it as a reward, but we can do something else, if you prefer so.” You felt embarrassed. You really didn’t mean to punish him. Just tease him a little and then please him endlessly. Only pleasure for your duckling tonight.

Jimin plopped down on the sofa beside you. “I'm sorry, I misunderstood.”

You nodded and dragged his legs atop yours. “It's okay, duckling.” You kissed his sleek black hair, pushing it slightly out of his eyes. You loved how sultry he looked with his bangs so low, emphasising the sensual cut of his eyes. “You did such a good job. I couldn't take my eyes off you. You shone so bright, Jiminie.”

He smiled and placed his face against your neck, by now entirely cuddled in. You wanted to thank Taehyung for creating the perfect cuddle buddy. Jimin was perfect at it. So perfect you almost felt guilty at the idea of having to let go of him. “Paddle? Yes or no?”

He smiled and nodded. “I have an idea.”

Five minutes later, he was naked on all fours on the bed, while you stood by the bed, clad in a pair of stockings and a garter belt — outfit of his choice.

You looked at him for a while before picking up the paddle from beside him on the bed, rolling your wrist a couple times before slapping it against your palm, checking intensity, weight,and elasticity. Even though you'd used the toy around five or six dozens of times, you knew you could never be too careful. “Are you okay, duckling?”

He nodded and bent further down, on his elbows. He looked so beautiful.

“Wanna lay on my lap, or would you like it like this?” you asked, your free hand caressing the curve of his backside.

He shook his head. “Just touch me, please. Please, don't punish me,” he begged, eyes so wide and imploring.

You shook your head and leaned over his body, carefully placing a kiss on his shoulder. “I'm not punishing you, lovely,” you reassured him as you laid more kisses across his back, finally reaching his other side. “I'm going to make love to you, duckling.”

You knelt beside him, knowing that the mattress under your knees would damage your stability and the strength of your blows. “We'll be fine, Jimin. You were so beautiful on that stage.”

The first hit was light, testing. He turned slightly and looked at you. “Thank you,” he purred. “May I please ask you to go harder?” His request was strongly submissive. You loved the tone, the register, the vulnerability and the gratefulness.

“Of course, darling.” You spanked him again, just like he had asked, receiving his sweetest little grunt in return. “You liked that, mh? My lovely boy,” you cooed, smiling at his enthusiastic nodding before bending down to lick at his reddening skin. Next, you blew fresh air on it, the sensation so cool and soothing on his skin. “Good boy,” you praised him, making him giggle.

“Thank you,” he replied obediently, pushing his head against your hand, inviting you to stroke his hair — which you did, since you loved seeing him like this, so sweet and docile like a lovely little pet.

Ten spanks later, his face was morphed into an innocent look, adorably covered in a cute blush, his lips were plump and his wondrous, sculpted ass was red and bruising, just the way he loved. That was the right moment to shift your focus — also because sometimes you happened to get bored or distracted… Especially with Jimin’s leaking dick so close to your fingers.

While you rubbed the paddle against his skin, you let go of his hair, his disappointed whimpers starting as the cuddles stopped, only to morph into breathier choked-back moans once you stroked his length lightly.

“Don’t whine, baby.” You hit the back of his thigh, more as a tease than an actual spank. “I’ve got you, see?”

He nodded, so dreamy and lost in the pleasure you were gifting him. He felt so light, so perfectly spotless. He was levitating in your care and love and attention. He didn’t even realise your stimulation was increasing until he almost reached his breaking point.

“Please, no— yellow!” You let go of him immediately, unknowingly edging him as he landed on his back. “Sorry, I just didn’t want to mess the sheets,” he apologised. He was too sleepy and felt too blissful to worry about staining the beddings.

You smiled softly and nodded, laying at his side and tucking him close up against you. “It’s okay, duckling.”

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, hiding his face against the curve of your breast.

“No need to, baby.” You kissed the crown of his head. “I understand. I love you.”

He looked up at you shyly, almost intimidated by you. “I love you too. Can I please touch you? I want to make you feel good too.”

You placed your lips against his forehead, leading his hand in between your legs, his shoulders twisting slightly as you got back to pumping his shaft into your hand, massaging the tip, his dainty moans fluttering from his lips all the way up to your ear. “Yes, handle it, babyboy.”

He nodded, eyes closing as he bathed his middle finger in the salty ocean between your legs. You felt so immense to him, so overwhelming, like a tide, your hand moving like waves on a shore. Back and forth. Back. Forth. Back and forth. Back… and…

“Mh, yes, love, yes… Yeah… I’m—” The long moan that followed predicted the cumshot that landed on your stomach, shortly followed by three more, one on his belly, and the final two on his lower abdomen.

“It’s okay, duckling. Take it like a good boy. I know you can do that for me,” you kept stroking him until he whimpered and gripped your forearm, literally pushing you away.

“Princess, please, stop,” he cried out, convincing you to step back. “Wait.” He grabbed a tissue and dried up the stains on his body before cleaning yours. Once rid of the tissue, he looked deep in your eyes, just as you reached for his sex again, ready to get up and crouch between his legs; however, he stopped you. “I wanna please you first.”

You shook your head, just before he pushed you on your back and straddled you, his fingers pressed to your clit immediately before they dipped inside you, his thumb torturing your most sensitive spot as he bent forward and latched onto your breast, his lips wrapping around your nipple while his tongue teased it in circles, your back arching in ecstasy as you started moving against his palm.

Inexperienced or differently shaped women would make fun of his fingers and hands, but not you. Them being smaller meant that he could reach your g-spot to perfection. The pumping of his digits and the stimulation on your clit caught up to you way faster than you anticipated, your hand reaching for his balls, starting to grope them gently, feeling the softness of his skin, the way he hummed against your breast.

“Right there, Jimin, you’re doing so good,” you managed to breath out before your body crashed and spiralled out of control. It felt so liberating, your mind soaring above everything and everyone. You were peace, without body. It was almost like ascending to an upper reality.

“There you go, ____, feels fine, right?”

You nodded as your soul started receding into your flesh, your mind already getting back to the important things: namely, watching him whine and shake below you, his cock deep into your throat as he came once more.

After your temporary death, your hand started groping him once more, his face flush against the curve of your neck. “Lay on your back, baby. I want to blow you.”

Jimin let his body fall to the mattress, enjoying the way your hand still massaged him, your fingers pressing the tissue connecting his balls to his ass, the low purr coming from his lips reassuring you that indeed, you were doing it right.

Slowly, you kissed his mouth, drawing the line of his jaw. “Is that alright? Would you like to slow down, duckling?”

He shook his head. “I'm good, I'm feeling perfect.” You smiled, letting go of the soft skin of his balls with a sliver of reluctance before placing your thigh between his, letting him hump his hips up, gaining that sweet friction that helped him get hard again.

“Keep going, lovely. You look so sensual like this. You're so sexy, Jimin,” you rewarded him, letting him suck at your fingers as he tried to keep quiet, his broken gasps and little whines turning you on endlessly. “I need your cock in my mouth, baby. Can you handle being by yourself up here?”

He blinked and nodded just as you started sliding down his body, kissing the straight line dividing his torso, stopping for half a second to kiss his tattoo, letter by letter. “My handsome boy,” you whispered, enjoying the way he pressed his hips to your stomach. “My man… So strong. So gracious. So effortlessly elegant.”

Jimin giggled and hid his face against the pillow, barely concealing a smile. “These are a lot of compliments.”

You chuckled and kissed his belly button. “You deserve them, love. All of them.”

He felt his cheeks blush. He always struggled so much with feeling handsome or charming or sexy, but when you treated him like that, all your veneration and love covering him head to toe in a golden feeling, he was everything you told him he was. He felt perfect.

And perfection multiplied tenfold once your mouth touched his tip, suckling it, pumping it between the flat of your palate and the slippery slide of your tongue.

“Hold on, please,” he sobbed, spreading his legs wider, his whine coming through a gentle smile. “Can you...”

You did what the two of you loved the most, slowing down your pace until you slipped into what could be called a foreplay of foreplay. It was barely sexual, but still deeply erotic — especially once accompanied by Jimin’s little chirps.

Your lips drew the inside of his thighs, so soft since he’d become obsessed with the idea of waxing, loving the feeling of baby-smooth skin. And you adored how silken he felt underneath your tongue, velvety, hot and oh-so-sensitive. You could taste him anytime, licking all the way up to the juncture between his leg and his crotch, and then suck pretty marks into the plush flesh of his thighs.

“It feels good, doesn't it, baby?” you asked, taking a pause from your marking project.

He hummed and touched your face, pulling you closer to the sensitive skin of his balls, your tongue giving him a kitten lick before taking one in your mouth, sucking him until he was barely coherent, pushing your face away by tugging at your hair.

“Princess, I— I…” His words faded into a series of delicate gasps as you escaped his grip and got three inches of him into your mouth, squeezing him with your cheeks.

Jimin was extremely picky about blowjobs: he wanted them when he wanted to, he wanted them done his way and he needed them to have a specific duration. Too little and he’d feel neglected, too long and he’d grow tired, bored or oversensitive. He preferred handjobs by far — or at least, he was less picky about them.

With your hand, you grabbed his balls, squeezing them just a little as you took a couple more inches of him, stretching your tongue all out so that you could lick his base, the whole procedure turning sloppy, drool pooling at his base, his legs twitching as his tip touched the back of your throat.

“No, no… Princess, fuck stop!”

You released him and took some deep breaths, his taste intensifying in your mouth as oxygen carried it deeper in your throat, smell and flavour activating a craving so deep you almost threw yourself at him again. “What is it, duckling?”

He found your hand and toyed with it, trying to bring you up towards him. “I want you to fuck me.”

You chuckled. “I’m doing so. Right now.”

Jimin’s flushed cheeks turned even brighter. “I mean… I want… Won’t you just ride my dick?”

You tutted and fondled his cock with your face. “I want to give you pleasure, baby. This is not about me. And we can have sex tomorrow morning.”

“So just foreplay? For me?” he blinked in confusion.

Your smile was an answer enough. “Would you like that? Mh? I know you’re tired and you always go over the top with positions. I just want you to relax, have a couple orgasms and then put you to sleep.” You kissed his belly and looked up at him. “What do you say, my lovely duckling?”

“Promise you won’t run out early tomorrow morning,” he requested, his manners extremely childish, but deliciously adorable.

“I promise I won’t run out before morning sex,” you stated solemnly, but also slightly condescendingly.

Jimin smiled. “Okay then. Do your worst.”

You mirrored his cheeky grin before your voice turned fond. “I love you, duckling.”

“Love you too,” he crooned, only a second passing by before he went back to tiny whimpers, your mouth once more on him, your thumb gliding back and forth along his perineum, adding more and more pressure while you mentally counted how long you were taking, your ears attuned to his sounds, knowing exactly which kind of moans meant he was ready to cum.

You made sure that your thumb was slippery with saliva when you started bringing it lower, towards the folds of his entrance. You waited for his reaction before pressing a bit harder, letting the pad of your finger slide across his puckered hole.

“Almost… Inside it’s… Ah, it’s okay… Ins— Yeah…”, he cried out as you inserted your thumb, releasing his shaft only to breathe a little, your hot exhales teasing his drenched skin as you got ready for your last effort.

You started hooking and stretching your thumb, rubbing it against his walls, his balls starting to pulsate right as you pushed his cock back inside your mouth, squeezing him with quick sucks until he was gasping, faster and faster. His breathing stopped altogether as his abs twitched and a low groan left his lips, your name following it.

You forgot how to breathe. The only thing that mattered was Jimin, writhing desperately below you, fighting between the tightness of your mouth and throat, and the fullness of your finger inside him, still torturing him with slow rubs.

“Princess, please off, I’m— Too much!”

You let go of his dick but realised he still had something to offer. After all, he’d been denying himself any form of release for a full week. He deserved a bit of an extra.

You removed your thumb and spit on your joined index and middle finger, slipping them inside his anus without any form of resistance from his needy hole.

“Princess!” he barked out as once more he found himself under your assault, this time the stimulation aimed directly at his prostate. “No, no no no!”

“Safeword, baby,” you reminded him, just in case.

As he clenched his teeth, you smirked and chuckled. “I thought so.” You took hold of his hand with your free one, offering him an emotional anchor. It didn’t keep his eyes from watering. “It’s so good… Too much.”

“I’ve got you, duckling. You can cry for me.”

“Mistress, please,” he begged, his hips starting to hump and swivel and twist. “I’m a good boy. I’m your duckling, Mistress, please. You love me.”

You picked up your pace, watching his face relax and rejoice, a sob escaping him though the smile on his face.

“Oh, again… M— ____, mercy please, Mistress!”

Once twin tears started rolling down his cheeks, you slipped into an all-or-nothing speed, watching his hips arch up, his heels digging into the mattress as he finally thrusted upwards, a couple drops of cum ending on his stomach in an exhausted dribble while his body collapsed entirely. He tossed his head side to side, fighting the pleasure.

“Let go, Jiminie. I’ve got you,” you reassured him, your voice sweet and proud at the sight of him.

At that, he abandoned himself entirely, trusting you, knowing that he could exercise no control whatsoever over his convulsing limbs.

His legs trembled uncontrollably, one hand gripping the sheet while the other one was still in yours.

Only once he calmed down fully, you extracted your fingers from his hole, bending over him to kiss his face. “I’ll be back in a second. I’ll wash up and be here, okay love?”

“Okay,” he agreed.

You washed your hands as accurately and as quickly as possible. You also grabbed a towel and dipped it in water, squeezing it before going back to the bed.

Jimin was sobbing heavily this time. You sat against the headboard at his side and found a packet of sweets in your drawer. “You’re safe, lovely. You’re safe, my love,” you repeated, holding him in your arms, with his back to you. You rubbed his face with the towel, kissing his head. You knew those weren’t bad tears. They were linked to release and stress and his body getting rid of the hormones in excess through crying. “You’re doing fine, duckling. How are you feeling, love?”

“I’m alright. Just… processing everything.”

You moved his hair off his forehead and passed the fresh rag there too before moving to his torso, where he was sticky with the remnants of his release. “Sweets?”

He nodded. “Yes, please.”

In a couple minutes he was significantly calmer and you were scrubbing his body with his chamomile soap in the shower. He was still a bit clingy, but you were actually very happy about that. “I’m so grateful for this, you know,” he started as you were towel-drying his hair.

“I enjoyed it too, you know?” you said with a little chuckle.

He nodded as he got his toothbrush ready. “I’m just… I don’t think that many women would do that for their boyfriends.”

You shrugged. “You never know.”

“I mean… Thank you. For being a safe place for me, for always encouraging me to be brave and get to know myself. And for taking time to learn how to test my boundaries.”

You kissed his head and back-hugged him as he started brushing his teeth.

Once both safely in bed, Jimin cuddled up beside you, his cute hand climbing up underneath your shirt and landing on your breast before he pulled his face up from his cocoon, his beautiful, slightly-crooked teeth making an appearance as his expression turned into the sweetest smile, bribing you into accepting his palm on your boob.

“Go to sleep, you menace,” you scolded him lovingly, your hand combing his hair as he settled his head against the crook of your neck.

In two minutes, he was soundly asleep. You switched off the lights and thanked the heavens for the boy at your side.

desperate | pjm (m.)

pairing: model!jimin x pa!reader

summary: being Jimin's assistant made you immune from his flirty tactics, but somehow you find it hard to resist him when he unusually becomes desperate.

rating: 18+ | word count: 3.8k

genre/au: smut (a bit of plot if you squint)

warnings/content: crude language, masturbation, fellatio, handjob, deepthroating, face fucking?, switch dynamics, a lot of pining ig, cheeky jimin that has many lustful thoughts and he's a brat too oml

a/n: been a long while and this is unplanned as always lmao. was supposed to be posted on the 14th but the universe said no so i couldn’t post it. anyways, this is for the 2nd anniversary of this blog’s official debut in this community so why not post a fic of the person who made me start writing in the first place, as the first fic of 2023 just like he was my first fic in this blog (just in time with vibe’s release, his solo album announcement and his official partnership with Dior too! 0.0). thank you Jimin for being my light, i love you 🥰

― masterlist — navigation — wips

You’re currently on your knees, helping Jimin out with his problem.

Not that kind, goodness no. He’s been doing practice poses for his shoot as soon as he arrived like he always does in each photoshoot. You ignored his flushed look when he entered the studio, already knowing his morning routine and went straight for the pre-shoot meeting. Everything was smooth until you noticed some stain on his black pants when you were checking him for any final touches.

So here you are now, dabbing the wet wipes around the spot on his thigh while he’s leaning against the frame of the glass partition behind him. 

He’s lucky that most of the staff are not here yet so you have time to remove the stain from his pants, a cum stain that almost made you scream when he told you sheepishly that it was from some girl he fucked this morning before coming to the studio.

“are you still mad? i told you i didn't realize she’d be a creamer”

In any other situation, this would've been a strange exchange with someone you essentially work for. Jimin has no filter in the way he talks to you but you don’t really mind it as you do the same. You and he have grown closer to one another each day since you started working for him so these types of conversations became normal between you both.

It's one of the perks of Jimin hiring someone around his age for a personal assistant. You've been with him from the very start of his career, barely scraping anything during that time with the both of you fresh from graduation. When he initially asked you, you looked at him incredulously because his plan was quite risky. Jimin understood your hesitance but he was surprised when you finally agreed after a bit of consideration.

Your friends said that it must be the puppy eyes that he constantly gives you but no, you knew of Jimin during college. It’s common knowledge from your mutual acquaintances of how hardworking he is and you’ve witnessed it a few times before so you said yes because why not. You're both in the same boat anyways, still looking for other jobs and who knows, if this works then it will be great for your future careers. 

You remember when Jimin got his very first paycheck, running up to you with a tight hug and asking you something that you’ve been wanting for a while. You were confused but then he cracked a smile and revealed that he wanted to treat you as a gratitude for doing your best to find casting calls and gigs for him. You were happy of course, with both of your hard work finally coming to fruition.

This dynamic you have with Jimin as a very close friend and colleague has been pretty balanced as the years go by. There are times when you fought, unavoidable with your contrasting personalities but you both became comfortable with one another regardless. This makes your teamwork efficient with more understanding from both sides as your relationship gets closer.

“believe me, it’s hers, not mine i swear” he adds, repeating what he explained earlier when you don’t answer him.

Thoughts aside, you do, of course, believe him because Jimin’s one of the most responsible guys you’ve ever known. He always comes prepared for photoshoots and arrives early to do last-minute check-ups despite what his shenanigans are the night before like earlier today. He’ll never go bare with anyone to avoid risks because he already experienced some scares before from past hookups.

No answer from you still but it’s partly because you've been in shambles on the inside with what you feel for him these days. You’re not only annoyed by this whole thing but you also felt uneasy at what he said. You’ve been used to it but you somehow felt the sting when he explicitly laid out his latest hookup. 

You’ll never admit to yourself or him why because it would be unprofessional.

At the same time, you’ve also been fighting to focus only on finishing up what you’re doing, occasionally straying your eyes toward the glass windows to calm yourself down. He was practically naked in front of you, with his damn gold necklace where its round pendant dances around his belly button and pointing down to the huge bulge he was sporting. And it would’ve helped if he’s covered, at least while you’re still on the floor. But apparently, he felt the need to not zip it up and just wear it as it is, torturing you with his sculpted body. 

You shouldn’t mind it but you’re a bit suspicious because Jimin’s always been involved in his photoshoots. He always consults with you regarding his outfits even if it’s not part of your job. He often asks for your input as well, discussing his ideas with you before he gives them a go. For this shoot, he picked this specific hooded jacket among all the ones that you’ve shown him, insisting on wearing it without anything under it because this one is apparently very loose. 

Which became an immense distraction to you. 

You remember zoning out earlier in the meeting room when Jimin was picking the final photos from his pre-shoot, trying all the concepts that he’s been wanting to do. You were already a mess with his slicked-back hair and exposed body along with his tight pants. And now you couldn't stop staring at his veiny hands as they hovered around the pictures. The gold rings on both of his index fingers didn’t help either, turning your focus on them instead of listening to him explaining to you and his stylist. 

Jimin of course notices and teases you like always. Though he’s been doing it more frequently these days, adding more to the brewing tension between you. 

He ran his fingers through the pinned pictures on the pegboard and casually picked up the pictures near where you were standing by the edge of the table. He leans closer and closer so you have to fight the urge to look at him, instead focusing your attention on talking with this stylist.

“you alright, __?”

You just scoff and roll your eyes at him, brushing him off with an excuse of being sleep deprived. He’s doing this on purpose, he could’ve lied to you earlier about fucking someone because how is he still hard? Thankfully he zipped up for now so his oversized jacket covers it but you knew he had a hunch about why you’d been acting weird around him right now.

Jimin's been smiling, knowing that his current hairstyle has been your favourite. He noticed it when he had his rainbow blond one last time where you couldn't stop touching his hair, hands constantly on it whether hair spraying it or simply tugging its strands whenever you can, reasoning that it's looking messy though it's not.

You couldn't stop looking at him too, eyes staying on him more than you ever did since working for him. That's why he specifically talked to the stylist and the photographer about bringing this hairstyle back for this photoshoot since it’ll also fit with his whole look. Also, you’ve been sneaking glances at him today which has been lifting up his mood. It just adds to how hard his dick is already, affecting you this much makes him very excited for today.

“Jimin, you can't do the shoot with this” you will yourself to ask, relieved that your voice came out sterned. When you look up at him, Jimin swears that his cock just twitched at the view of you in this position, his thoughts playing a different scenario where you’re giving him the suck of his life.

“then help me..” he mindlessly responded, totally not paying attention to what you’re referring to. He's not sure really, his mind’s still hazy and all he can think of is the ache of his balls from not being able to cum earlier.

“i’m trying” you grumble, ignoring his pouting. He’s adorable when he’s like this, and he uses that on you when he wants something. Sometimes it works when he combines it with his affectionate touches but you have to be strong this time. You’re not even sure what he’s specifically talking about but then you’ve also been occupied in trying to fight off your growing lust for him. 

Jimin’s pout turns into a grin after catching your eyes flickering from looking anywhere and on his bulge again, he can sense how your hand’s so tempted to touch it with how much you’re gripping his pants. Your hand continues to fidget, eyes unfocused as you continue to wipe off that stain as hard as you can just in case. You don’t look annoyed now either, but you’re wearing a struggling expression that tells him just how conflicted you are at this moment.

You’re beyond torn because that fucking tent of his pants is dissolving your annoyance little by little with sinful thoughts already creeping up your mind the longer you stay down the floor. 

“where are you looking at?”

“the city view looks good from here”

You automatically answer, clearing your throat in the process before gathering up the pack of wet wipes and the damp cloth along with a bowl of cold water from the ground. You avoid looking at Jimin’s face because you knew he was going to try something now that he noticed your slight slip of judgment.

“yeah, the view is amazing but my view from here is better”

“up or down?” 

“both, but i’d say down. you’d say the opposite, right __?”

You almost dropped what you're holding at his remark but this is nothing new to you: Jimin shamelessly throwing his lewd innuendos at you at any chance he got. You indulge him in it, after all, it’s just harmless flirting between friends, something that you never expected when you took this job. Sometimes it's part of your banter, you doing the same thing to him which catches him off guard sometimes when he's focusing on something while working. You especially do it when discussions of his escapades come to light, which you helped in arranging because of his demanding schedules.

Yes, you’re this dedicated to your job even if it sometimes causes an ache in your heart. 

“why? didn’t you fuck someone?” you deflect, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’s affecting you.

“yeah but i didn’t get to cum, couldn’t…” he trails off as he closes his eyes and grabs his crotch to hopefully feel a little bit of comfort but it's no use. He wants to tell you why he couldn't, wants to let you know who has been stopping him from getting off with other people but you don't care anyways.

“then get rid of it, you still have time”

You state with urgency, nervously looking around if anyone saw but everyone’s been doing their own thing. Patting his thigh, you stand up from your kneeling position and push aside your want to help him in getting rid of it. He might be good at hiding his expressions but he does look like he’s been struggling for hours since he arrived on set. Jimin didn’t do anything but huff before retreating to the dressing room to take care of his problem.

Now that most of the staff are here, you check in with them for any possible last-minute changes. It took your mind off Jimin a bit but your eyes couldn’t stop glancing at the door of his dressing room. You shake your head, pushing yourself to focus on your current task. It’s still early but you want to make sure Jimin’s ready when the scheduled time for his photoshoot is on. This is an important shoot for him so you just hope that he finishes as soon as possible to not keep everyone waiting. 

After you’ve double-checked everything, you decide to fetch Jimin. Nearing his door though is making you more agitated than you already are. You’re about to knock when you hear his loud, sexy groan. fuck. 

You haven't really heard how Jimin sounds properly because each time you catch him fucking someone, either during his breaks or random times when you need something for him to confirm, his partners’ moans usually overpower his so this is quite new, and you won’t deny that you'd love to hear more of it.

“oh fuck..fuck”

Jimin being this loud causes you to panic at the possibility of anyone in the studio hearing him like this. This might not be new for some of the staff but still, you just don’t want everyone to hear how he sounds like. 

You took a deep breath before wandering your eyes around if anyone was watching but thankfully, everyone was busy.

.

He wonders if you’re listening, purposely moaning louder than he intends to as he fists his cock. You probably don’t care and if you ever catch him, you’ll just ignore his attempts and scold him for taking too long at this. It’s always been the case with you but he does find it amusing to piss you off more.

So when he hears the door opening, a smirk creeps up on his face before opening his half-lidded eyes.

“y–”

“shut up” you seethe as you approach his propping form on his vanity. He thinks it's just one of his imaginations again, indulging him with his fantasies. But when he feels you grab the chain of his wrap necklace towards you, his eyes open fully before releasing a small gasp. The smaller chain loop fastens gradually around his neck when you begin pulling its long chain gently while looking into his eyes. He maintains eye contact and you notice the hunger and mischief in them as you continue to pull his necklace.

“s-shit” he whines quietly, though the smirk still remains on his gorgeous face as his hand continues to stroke his cock even faster. His other hand reaches for the dark bottle of lube, bringing it in front of you before pumping its nozzle on his very angry tip.

He closes his eyes again, placing the bottle back on the table while his other hand spreads the lube around his dick. You’re speechless for a second with this whole show he’s putting on, pausing to watch him. It’s when his other hand comes up in an attempt to touch you to come closer that breaks your reverie, swatting his hand away.

You stare him down, brows scrunching while contemplating what to do next. This would be crossing whatever boundaries you have with Jimin both in your personal and professional relationship. You had to look away from him to think this through. You’re used to seeing him semi-naked with other people before but not like this. Him now naked from the waist down in front of you, his tight black pants pooling around his ankles.

It’s Jimin’s desperate whimpers that made your mind up. There’s no point in denying wanting the same thing he desires from you.

“i’ll help you but don't make a sound” you command and he nods, too fucked out to respond because all he wants is his release.

Your hand replaces his before you kneel on the hard floor, immediately swallowing his cock to not waste more time. One of Jimin’s hands is on your head at once, not gripping your hair but just holding onto you for support because fuck, your mouth feels so much better than his hands, hell it's even better than pussies he’s had before.

It’s you, of course, Jimin has always thought about how much better you’ll be at pleasuring him than others. He smiles after noticing your demeanour change as soon as your mouth envelops him. It must be the lube flavour that he specifically picked knowing apple’s one of your favourites. Your mouth is greedily sucking him in now, warm tongue lapping up the entirety of his cock.

"you were drooling for my cock earlier, hmm? bet you wouldn't mind sucking me off in front of everyone outside" his mocking tone shudders, his attempt of gaining control wavering with you being encouraged by what he said. You bob your head faster, opening your mouth more to take him deeper cause the view from where you are is spurring you to do more. Jimin in his fucked out glory is a sight to watch, his gold link earrings swaying as he tosses his head back, his plump lips getting swollen from him biting them to hold his moans in.

You want to see more of it. 

When Jimin’s not closing his eyes from the pleasure, they never leave yours as he stares right into them. He surprises you when he gets up from leaning on the vanity, his hand moving from the top of your head down to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him. This made him push deeper into your mouth so you loosen your jaw, the new angle allowing more of his length in your mouth. As soon as his tip reaches the back of your throat, you’re unable to stop releasing gurgling moans when it nudges further.

“can’t..believe..you’re.. choking on my cock right now..”

Jimin rasps needily as he rolls his hips slowly, deeper with each thrust. The vibrations from your moans are not helping him in holding his orgasm longer. He’s been trying hard because he wants to prolong this, relish this view of you on your knees and your mouth on him because who knows if this will ever happen again. He’s losing himself, grinding on your face while his hand starts massaging your nape in time with his thrusts.

Now you’re confused because you for sure thought that he’ll start fucking your throat roughly the moment you allowed him but he’s not. You take a deep breath through your nose as you come up, readying your throat in case he’ll change his mind later when he’s close to cumming. But the way he’s touching your nape is making you relax, distracting you from your main reason for helping him in the first place.

He’s close already, his cock's been throbbing before you started bobbing your head earlier. His pace also changes a bit faster but is still slow and you’re confused as to why he’s been holding back. His breathing turns erratic and his lower abs are flexing. You know it so before he does so dig your nails into both of his meaty thighs before one of your hands leaves and pushes away his hold on your head. 

You take him deeper until your lips reach the skin of his crotch, immediately pushing back when he grabs your head again, releasing his cock from your mouth which causes Jimin to whimper in frustration.

“that's for making me wipe other girl's cum on your pants” you glare at him, voice hoarse from taking him that deep in your throat. Standing up from kneeling was making your legs wonky, feeling numb from your previous position but your mind’s not on it with your prior annoyance resurfacing because of his attempt to pacify you.

Jimin, however, begins laughing.

Your brows rise from his reaction, totally not expecting this because you were really sure that you already got him under you.

“so you’re jealous after all,”

“i’m not, i wouldn’t help you if i were” you counter, avoiding his eyes as you pull his jacket back on him, it was slipping on one side already, showing his muscular arms and the tattoo on his ribs. Your fingers have minds of their own when you start tracing each of the letters, causing Jimin to shiver at your touches but the devilish smile remains on his handsome face.

“but you’re doing it to prove something, right?”

You don’t know how to answer him and you don’t want to tell him the truth because it’ll just feed his already massive ego. Instead, you grab his swollen dick, hot and heavy in your hands and begin stroking him roughly. The slick from the lube, his precum and your saliva made it easier for your plan. There’s no way you’ll let him, he’ll never be able to make you admit it.

The smile disappears from his lips as his whole body shakes with a cry, not expecting your punishing pace on him. You want to look at him, to watch his smug face morph back into a pliant one.

But you can’t.

Jimin couldn't cum earlier while fucking another girl because all he can think about is you and now you’re doing what exactly he’s been imagining for months, years. You’re still not looking at him, your brows scrunching in focus on jerking him off. He can’t stop himself from bucking into your hands when your thumb starts flicking his mushroom tip, nudging his frenulum with your index finger before squeezing his shaft each time you do it.

You’re honestly amazed at how Jimin manages to hold off his climax this long but it shouldn’t surprise you when he has such incredible control of his body. It’s when your other hand reaches out to pull his necklace again to pull him towards you, that he finally gives in. It never crossed your mind that modifying this necklace by combining it with his gold link could serve as an advantage for you when playing with him.

Jimin’s hand leaves the table to muffle his mouth, eyes somewhat begging you to let him cum. You smile and he lets himself go through a series of incoherent cries, still covering his mouth like you ordered him to. And despite knowing how loud he can be, you quickly move to remove his hands to finally hear the delicious moans that he’s been obediently keeping. 

He continues to rock his hips despite the overstimulation, trying to catch your eyes and when you do look up, he’s back to purposely biting his lips as he gapes at you with his dark brown eyes.

He’s grinning while still biting his lips as he shoots more of his cum into your hands, it’s spilling all over but most of it landed on your black sheer top, especially on the sleeves.

“Jimin what the fuck! you came so much..” your enamoured eyes are focusing on his slit that’s still releasing loads of his sticky cum around your fingers.

“yeah, been holding them back” for you, he wants to add but he just chuckles, breathlessly and all giddy while eyeing you. It could be high from his mind-blowing orgasm but it’s more with how he basically just covered you with his cum.

You look cute when you’re annoyed, grumbling because of the stains on your sheer puffy top. Some of them are on your black leather pants too, and this just adds to his amusement as he watches you walking around frantically, looking for something to clean you both up with before his photoshoot finally commences in about a minute or so.

Jimin’s not sorry of course, seeing his cum stains on you is stirring something carnal in him. It's his way of marking you because you're his now, well, kind of. He'll just make sure to properly mark you next time.

e/n: i initially wrote this around the time it came out and during his birthday but wasn’t planning on posting it until later cuz i do have other priority fics but i just have to since i wasn’t able to post him last year 😭

please, lie to me | pjm (m.)

pairing: seelie!jimin x mundane!reader

summary: “centuries of loyalty vs. only months of fucking, how could you miscalculate?”

rating: 18+

genre: urban fantasy, shadowhunters!au, angst, smut, fwb!au? (not really), faerie!au

word count: 11k (lol what happened)

warnings: explicit sexual content, multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex (the fae don’t do protections), pet names, praise kink, fingering, breast play, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, rough sex (what’s new), creampie, manhandling, exhibitionism, marking, edging, forced orgasm, light bruises, a lot of begging, some messy emotional sex, poor OC but Jimin just–

a/n: this is part of The Fabled Collaboration hosted by @kimtaehyunq​ (thank you for this gorgeous banner and for being patient with me >.&lt;) , @joontopia & @whipped-for-kpop-fics​. i’ve had this idea even before i joined this event so what a coincidence! the fic will have aspects from the Shadowhunter Chronicles by @cassandraclare, particularly The Mortal Instruments. i also wanna thank @lemonjoonah for being supportive when i’m nervous of writing this genre that i’m only used to reading 🥺.

also, listen this song/score while reading, especially near the end to be in the feels (i cried while writing for the first time lol)

UNEDITED 🤡

― masterlist — navigation 

“To love is to destroy”

That was a running joke you kept hearing with your Nephilim friends.

The Nephilim or what they modernly called as Shadowhunters were a race of humans with angelic blood that protected ordinary humans from demons and they coordinated with Downworlders which consisted of warlocks, werewolves, vampires and the fae. All of them were part of the Shadow World and they called humans like you as mundanes.

You were with your Nephilim friends for a weekend hangout, the schedule they set since they were always so busy with their missions these days that you could barely see them. The booming sound of the club’s current song was what all you can hear while you were trying to avoid the amount of people dancing on the floor. 

Not that this was the only club that you go to, but it’s the only place where you could meet them as it catered to both mundane and Downworlders. Though you had been hearing rumours about demons coming here to victimize the mundane patrons, you didn’t seem to care because you knew your friends would protect you anyways.

Passing through the dancing people turned out to be a struggle because you actually lost sight of your friends but then you felt someone’s stare.

Czytaj dalej

floored | jhs, jjk, pjm

synopsis: in the midst of your reunion with your boyfriend after not seeing each other for some time, you’re interrupted by two sets of eyes. not wanting to waste the opportunity, hoseok proposes a foursome and hey, “the more, the merrier”, right?

pairing: hoseok x f!reader | jungkook x f!reader | jimin x f!reader

wc: 5.2k

genre/rating/au: 18+ | est. rel. & idol au | smut

warnings: pwp • foursome • oral (m. & f. receiving) • unprotected sex • multiple orgasms • semi-public sex • fingering • light spanking • creampie • dirty talk • name calling (pet) • slight edging • a brief appearance of moon’s mirror kink

author’s note: part of the bccsg event where i re-did an old work.

credit

m.list | ao3 | wattpad

The clock chimes five times when you look up from your assignment. Bleary-eyed, you have no idea how late it has gotten, the office deserted save for the few janitors starting their jobs. You yawn and stretch, finally feeling the soreness of your back after spending hours hunched over your computer.

Pulling a duffel bag from underneath your desk, you rummage through its contents, going through the mental checklist to make sure that you have all your things for your sleepover with your boyfriend.

The two of you often have opposite schedules and as Hoseok’s fame grows, the time you spend with him shrinks. After planning for months, you’ve finally found a time where your schedules matched up. A weekend full of lounging around in your pajamas while watching movies and eating your weight in junk food is just what the doctor ordered. You exit your office building with a bounce in your step, humming happily while thinking of Hoseok.

Czytaj dalej

switch up! (m) jjk.

banner by @dee-ehn

pairing. bass player!jk x reader  genre. fluff, smut word count. 18k warnings. lotsa kissing, oral sex (m. & f.), sooome spit bc why not, protected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cockwarming?? summary. you would have never expected your shy, innocent art partner to be the man on stage covered in tattoos note. the tags are janky as fuck so if u read and enjoy, pls reblog ! let me refer you to this post of mine that birthed this hannah montana/double life jungkook. he is sweet and lowkey filthy and i love him sm & hope u will too <3, this fic is half plot and half smut to get myself back into writing filth and also to finally give jk a bassist story on my page lol, i’ve been working on this idea since january…writers block has been gnarly as fuck…so please let me know what you think of it hehe ty ilysm (also pls dont ask me for a part two, if i decide to write more for them ill let u guys know<3) taglist. @parkdatjimin , @jimilogy , @cheekychoca , @jjk301 , @marcoazz2 , @girlsforgloss , @fancycollectormoon , @aurevoir-le-bitches , @redbabie17 , @tomotae​ , @heartykoo ,

The gentle breeze of the wind flows around you, trees rustling above, leaves fluttering down and landing on the blanket you had just meticulously spread out. The red and yellow leaves stand out against the light material, and you’re tempted to just leave them there but your desire to make this perfect has you crawling forward instantly, plucking the leaves and tossing them aside before smoothing out the fabric once more and settling back onto your butt. 

There, that’s better. 

The set up you currently had looked more like a picnic than the original drawing ‘date’ you had arranged. A wooden wicker basket was to your left, full of a variety of snacks and treats for you to munch on while you worked, your art supplies nestled to the side of it. You had almost forgotten them in your haste to leave, too excited about spending time with your art partner outside of class to remember what the actual premise of this was. It doesn’t stand out too much, the giant quad in the middle of your campus was occupied by other couples having similar picnics all around you, so hopefully you can pass this off as no big deal. 

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oh my ghost (m) | jjk

pairing ⇾ ghost! jungkook x reader

genre(s) ⇾ smut, supernatural au

word count ⇾ 13k

ratings/warnings ⇾ 18+ | nsfw content, panty sniffing, mutual masturbation, double penetration, ghost dick, oral, nipple play, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

summary ⇾ fresh out of college, you’ve definitely had your fair share of horrible roommates. fortunately getting your first big girl job also means finally being able to save enough money to move into your own apartment. but you must’ve forgot to read the fine print when you signed the lease because come to find out, your new place comes with an unexpected house guest. oh and did i mention all your underwear seems to be going missing.

namkook moonrise masquerade

today’s weather was perfect for the move, not too hot to the point of sweating but just warm enough that you didn’t have to wear a jacket. From the open window across the room, a steady breeze blew through just as you finish sealing up the last box, the sound of masking tape slicing through the air before you close the flap. pulling out a sharpie you wrote the box's contents on the side. mementos you scrawl across the cardboard. The sound of footsteps coming down the hallway is what had you sighing and closing the cap on the marker, turning to look at the door knowing your ex roommate would soon appear in the doorway.

“don’t forget you still have to pay me this month's rent before you leave. you are not leaving me to pay for it all by myself.” internally you groan, why didn’t i close my door.

“I know, jennie. didn’t I say I would get it to you? so obviously you’ll have it soon.” you glare at her from your spot next to your former bed, hands scurrying to hurry and finish packing up your duffle bag, “now let me finish packing so i can finally get out of here.”

she scoffs, giving you the side eye before tossing her hair over her shoulder and heading back down the hall. “fine. didn’t like you all that much anyway.”

“couldn’t agree more.” you whisper to yourself, rolling your eyes and hooking your bag across your body, struggling to balance the box in your hands.

you hadn’t even lived in the apartment for a year before you realized it was the worst mistake ever. jimin had been the one to recommend jennie to you, saying that she would be the perfect roommate for your small two bedroom apartment. but the wrong girl must’ve showed up because jennie was not the perfect roommate, on the contrary. she was rude, messy and stole your stuff (even if she refused to admit it) and every time you confronted her about it she went and told jimin who would beg you to go a little easier on her.

Since Jimin was one of your closest friends, you couldn’t help but listen to him and try to be more lenient, which obviously backfired. She thought she was immune to anything and took advantage of your good natured personality until you got fed up and started looking for somewhere new to live entirely.

It helped that you had just scored a high paying job in your field that not only came with great benefits, but also allowed you to save up enough to be able to move out on your own, no roommate needed. and after you found the perfect place it didn’t take long to sign the lease with the added bonus of being able to move in right away since the space had been vacant already. When you asked why it was empty for so long he didn’t exactly give you a straight answer, but the place seemed clean and you considered yourself handy enough to be able to deal with anything that needed fixing. whatever it took to get you out of living with jennie a minute longer.

So once your car is packed full of all your stuff, you drive off down the block not even sparing the old run down building a second glance, thankful to be leaving. immediately it was like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, you would finally be able to come home to your own house without having to deal with any nonsense.

When you arrive at your new place, keys in hand and face full of glee, unlocking the door felt like stepping into paradise. you stick your head in looking around at the empty apartment, already imagining it full of all the new furniture and decor you intend to buy once you have the money. for now all you had was a dresser and a bed that was generously donated to you by your other close friend yoongi who had upgraded to some new type of extra firm, comfort technology mattress that you weren’t entirely sure you understood but didn’t feel like asking about. you didn’t have a frame for it but you were fine with placing it on the floor for now.

The sound of your footsteps clicking against the hardwood floors echoed throughout the space and once you reach the center you spin around, sighing in contentment. the floor wasn’t real hardwood, you knew that, (probably some type of laminate) and you could see that the fresh layer of paint that no doubt was covering some type of horrible mistake and peeling drywall, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. it was yours and that’s all that mattered.

“home sweet home.” you whisper to yourself, chest swelling with pride and contentment.

With a clap of determination you looked over at your many boxes and decided to get started. It took you a couple hours to get most of your things unpacked and by the time you finished for the day you could see the sun starting to set from the bay window that faced opposite of the small galley kitchen. you had to shield your eyes as the rays shined through the glass pane into your eyes as you mumbled to yourself, “i’ll hang up some curtains tomorrow.”

Your night ended with a relaxing hot shower (ignoring the lackluster water pressure) followed by snuggling up into some soft flannel pajamas to keep you warm. The apartment seemed to get exceptionally cold at night and you make a mental note to ask the landlord about getting a heater installed later. Once your thoughts begin to drift off and you feel your eyes starting to get heavy, you decide it’s time to push your tasks for tomorrow out of your head and let yourself succumb to the beckoning call of sleep.

your dreams were calm and undisturbed without having a roommate to make noises all through the night and you were able to peacefully float through your dreams, comforted by images of a black haired stranger with shining doe like eyes. you didn’t know who the man was and you probably wouldn’t even remember when you woke up but in the moment he seemed so familiar.

“Who are you?” you whisper to the stranger, sitting up in your bed to get a closer glimpse at his face. you don’t remember yourself waking up but you could tell it was still night time as the moonlight cascaded through your bedroom window. The boy sat at the end of your mattress close to your feet with hands tucked in his lap looking at you with a sense of curiosity. you took a moment to gaze back at him and noticed how pale his skin looked, as if it was made of porcelain. not to mention his eyes were a bit unnerving, dark and wide like the night sky but still full of childlike innocence.

“I live here.” he says, as if it was obvious. his mouth opens as if he was going to say something before he changes his mind and closes it again. The response he gives you only confuses you more and you raise an eyebrow at him to signal for him to keep going, but he just ignores it and continues fleeting his eyes over you. The amused smile that suddenly broke out onto the boy's face was breathtaking and if the small giddy laugh that followed has your heart skipping a beat, you pretended you didn't feel it.

“What's so funny?” you ask indignantly.

“nothing it’s just...you’re so pretty. It's been a while since someone so pretty moved into my home.” you choose to ignore his compliment, too busy focusing on the last part of the sentence. his home? What did he mean by that? The stranger didn’t give you a chance to ask your questions and leaned forward closer to your end of the bed, eyes still wide and glittering like stars. “Can I try something?”

“um...sure i mean- yeah sure.” you sputter, unsure as to why you didn’t say no. Perhaps it had something to do with how captivated he looked, like a little boy who just got a new toy to play with. Either way, it was too late to change your mind, as he was already scooting his way closer to you, face becoming clearer to you the nearer he got. you were even able to see the tiny moles that dotted his face, eyes zeroing on the one that sat just below the jut of his bottom lip.

You get so caught up in the features of his face you barely even notice his hand coming up to rest on the cusp of your cheek, body jumping at the contact. The sound of surprise you let out pull another laugh from him and he just smiles at you, tiny bunny like teeth peeking out. “I’m glad you’re here with me.” he says, voice barely above a whisper as if trying to keep a secret between the two of you.

The stranger's words has heat spreading across your cheeks and you shyly return his smile while subconsciously leaning into his touch. So soft you thought, eyes briefly slipping shut as you lose yourself in the moment. The boy lets out a small hum at the sight and rubs the pad of his thumb gently back and forth on the apple of your check. The sudden urge to return the affection is what has you raising your own hand to reach out to his face, succumbing to the curiosity of how smooth his skin must be. But your feelings of wonder and curiosity were quickly replaced with ones of horror and fear, watching as, upon contact with his face, your hand continues its path straight through, never meeting any type of resistance despite the man still sitting in front of you.

“What- what is this?!” you shout, jumping back from his grasp. “What are you?!”

Your sounds of fright has him flinching, shining smile and glittering eyes dimming as he ducks his head and drops his still lingering hand. Your head was full of nothing but questions and even more began flooding in when the boy starts fading out, disappearing as if made of smoke. Your eyes flicker back and forth around the room trying to find a trace of him as you hear his voice echo around the room, still in the same whispering tone from before.

“Please don’t leave.”

The creaking sound of floor boards is what has you jolting up from your slumber, groggy eyes opening and still full of sleep. When you turn over to check the time, the numbers on the screen read three a.m. and you groan, “what the hell?”

You hated having to pull yourself out of bed at the ass crack of dawn and you were beyond annoyed at the fact that your sleep was being interrupted, but being alone in a house as a female meant you had to be extra cautious. so any sound, no matter how minor, was a concern.

Slowly you creep to the door, hand gripping the knob before cracking it open and peaking your head out around the frame. “Hello?” you call down the hallway, ears open to see if you could pick up any sound. A couple of seconds go by as you wait to see if anything else would respond before nervously stepping out of the room in the direction of the living room.

The air somehow seemed to be colder than when you went to sleep and you were a bit worried at the fact you could almost see your breath in the air. Your hands clung to your shivering body but you were glad to see when you walk around the corner that the apartment was as empty as you left it. Still, you cautiously took your time looking around and checking every nook and cranny before giving up and deciding it was time to go back to sleep since you still had work in the morning (even though you had practically begged your boss for some time off to move in).

However, the sound of something sliding open from your bedroom has you scurrying down your hall in an effort to try and catch an intruder. You wonder what it could be only to discover that it was the sound of one of your dresser drawers opening. The top one, where you kept your underwear, was left hanging open and the materials that were once neatly folded had been disturbed and half hazardly flown back into the drawer. you rushed over to look inside and tried to return it back to it’s organized state, cursing in confusion on how it got this way.

“How the hell did this happen?!” you groan, already starting to fold everything back up and annoyed with the fact that you even had to do so. You were tired from moving and absolutely dreading the idea of having to wake up with only a few hours of sleep and still having to work all day. But you just shake your head and suck it up, tucking the clothes back into the drawer and closing it, sparing the inside one last look just in case there was still a small chance an intruder was hiding inside the small space.

Just as you turn your head around, the sight of a black shadow darting from your closet has you shrieking and falling back against the wall with a thud. “Stay back!” you scream, arms coming up to shield your face. You were scared out of your mind and afraid to even open your eyes to face the person, but when nothing happened you open them only to feel foolish at your reaction. At your feet sat a small black cat, green eyes staring up at you blankly and a piece of bright pink underwear hanging out of its mouth.

You deadpan,“hey! give that back!” you screech, reaching out to snatch it away only for it to dodge your attempt and scurry over to your bed. It seemed to enjoy the janky mattress as it took it upon itself to lay down and begin clawing at the prize it had stolen.

Cautiously you go over to lay back down on your bed, the cat not even sparing your movement a glance. You still decide to keep your distance just in case the creature wants to change its mind and decide to claw at you next. In the morning you plan to try and see if anyone in the building had recognized the beast but there wasn’t much you could do in the middle of the night.

Frustrated, you stare at the cat and raise an eyebrow, looking back and forth between it and your dresser across the room. “how did you manage to get that open, huh?”

the cat just stared back at you without a thought behind its eyes and you shake your head, “now i’m talking to a cat, definitely time for bed.” you say with a sigh, throwing your head back onto the pillow and pulling the comforter up to your chin. For a while you stare up at the ceiling, finding the dream world alluding to you before finally you fall back to sleep. Unbeknownst to you, eyes watched you from the shadows, head fixed in your direction as if it was afraid to turn away. It stood looming, before suddenly it disappeared.

-----

The next day's temperature was not as forgiving as yesterdays but, despite that, you still clutch a large size cup of steaming coffee in your hand as if it was a life saver. Your raggedy hair and the puffy bags under your eyes basically scream sleep deprivation as you walk into the office building. Most of your coworkers can sense the bad vibes radiating off your figure from a mile away.

“Geez y/n did you get mugged on your way to work?” Jimin greeted you upon your arrival to your desk, platinum blonde head swiveling around to glance over your figure. “Or maybe fall in a ditch somewhere?”

You scoff, “Good Morning to you too, asshole.” Your sarcasm had him letting out a laugh just as you place your already half finished drink down and plop heavily into the padded chair on your side of the circular desk. “I wasn’t mugged. I mean- well technically, if you can consider a cat a mugger than yes, I was totally mugged.”

Your response had Jimin raising an eyebrow at you and he leaned back in his chair, “A cat? Really?”

“Yes Jimin, a cat!” you whisper loudly, aggravated. “First it stole my underwear then it proceeded to steal my sleep. I don’t even know where it came from but it must’ve been hell because it wouldn’t leave me alone all night.” you were struggling to keep your voice down the more you started to recall last night.

You should’ve known better than to let a strange cat into your bed but it seemed innocent enough, at least until it tried clawing your eyes out for accidentally rolling over into its spot. Technically all the spots on the bed were yours since it was your bed, but apparently the cat hadn’t got the memo and practically bullied you onto the floor. The hardwood esque flooring sure did look good but, damn, was it cold. You couldn’t have been happier when you saw the little girl frantically running around the hallway as if looking for something this morning, only to let out a cry of happiness when she saw you holding her monster of which you gladly handed over.

“Well that wouldn’t have happened if you had just stayed with Jennie,” you couldn't stop the laugh of disbelief that spill from your lips and just roll your eyes at the idea. Jimin whines and scoots his chair closer to you, “C’mon y/n! It wasn’t even that bad! I swear you just suck at keeping track of stuff, I mean just look at your desk!”

He juts a finger towards your haywire mess of mixed papers and files with a couple of miscellaneous paper clips here and there. You barely even spare him a glance as you start typing away at your computer, pretending as if he hadn’t just suggested the stupidest thing in the world. “Uh-huh sure.”

“Fine, but don’t say I never tried to help you. I did everything I could to find a roommate for you and I honestly thought Jennie would've worked out.” he says with a pout. No matter how many times you two have this same conversation about the situation with Jennie, Jimin always seems to make you feel bad about not being grateful for his help.

It has you letting out a sigh, “I know Jiminie.” you say, using his nickname to try and pacify him, “How about you come over tonight and we can watch the office, hmm?”

Jimin was reluctant to cave in and continues to pout, but finally he concedes and accepts your request, “That was a dirty trick, Y/N. You know I can never say no to the office.” His complaint just makes you laugh.

----

Jungkook didn’t know how long you’d be gone and in that moment he was too preoccupied to care, hands stuffed down in his pants and a familiar wad of cotton shoved harshly against his nose.

The minute you had left this morning, fresh out of the shower and a cup of coffee in your hand, Jungkook had immediately found himself back in your room snooping around and messing with things he knew he shouldn't have been. But he couldn’t stop himself from just taking a peek and since you had left your room in total disarray this morning after stressing over what to wear he didn’t feel like it was totally his fault for picking it up.

When he had first seen it, sprawled across the ground, he thought it was some type of weird string or perhaps some type of headband. It wasn’t until he had seen the distinct victorias secret label printed on the back that he realized just exactly what was in his hand. At first he was just going to place it back where he had found it, embarrassed with the fact that he had even picked up something so intimate, but when he remembered just how infatuated the cat was with the item last night he began to wonder what made them so great. That train of thought somehow had turned into him stuffing his nose into the material instead. When he first placed his nose against it, he was hesitant, but instantly the aroma had his eyes slipping shut and a groan escaping past his lips.

“F-fuck!” he moans, hips canting up into his hand as he continues stroking at himself. His member had gotten hard so fast after smelling the lingering scent of you on the thong that he had wasted no time in unzipping his pants and palming at himself. At some point, he had pulled his cock out entirely and started thumbing at the weeping head, precum making the slide even easier.

Your underwear was practically glued to his face at this point and all he could smell was you as he continues sniffing at the material, whines escaping past his lips every time he caught a particularly strong scent. Jungkook jerks tirelessly at himself, head thrown back and fingers gently squeezing at the base on every downstroke in an attempt to hold off the inevitable, but he can already feel his abs tightening with a familiar coil.

He bit at his plump red lips, barely even capable of holding in his moans, “Y/N” he groans out as he continues racing towards his climax, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

But just before he can reach his glorious orgasm he hears the familiar sound of keys jingling in the door, the entrance of the apartment unlocking. It has him scrambling from his spot where he leans against the wall and hastily pulling his pants up. Briefly he glances at the underwear in his hand, debating on what he should do with it before he slyly shoves it into his pants pocket, disappearing only a second before you burst through the bedroom door.

“Jimin, you better not open the wine without me!” You shout down the hallway, work heels dangling from your hand as you fling yourself onto the foot of the bed. The rest of your work day had been exhausting, all the countless calls and meetings you had to schedule for your boss had you basically itching for a drink. That was the only thing you had in mind when you drove back home with Jimin and you can barely get into your sweats fast enough.

Jimin’s first impression of your apartment was that it was small, alot smaller than he had assumed based on how much you had been bragging about it, but still it was quaint. “No promises!” he replies back from inside your kitchen, already scavenging through your cupboards to find something yummy to eat. Of course it’s empty, he thinks to himself after finding nothing and letting out a sigh of defeat. And, of course, you didn’t have a couch so he was just left to stand there awkwardly, staring into the reflective glass of the wine bottle as he waited for your return.

He quickly finds himself getting lost in his train of thought, mind reeling about all the things he had to do tomorrow at work as he hums unconsciously. But when he peeps the figure that showed up behind him in the reflection, it has him furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. Jimin hadn’t heard the telltale sign of your steps signalling your return so the sight had him spinning around in alarm, only to be met with the same empty space behind him. It has him shaking his head and rubbing at his eyes, chalking it up to his imagination and the stress from the job. When he sees you finally emerge around the corner from the hallway, he holds the bottle out to you. “Here, I don’t think I’m gonna drink much. Already going crazy as it is.”

His words just have you looking at him weirdly before you mutter out a confused okay and lead him back to your room. “Sorry I don’t have a tv yet, but we can still watch it on my laptop!” you express before letting him join you on your bed and pulling up netflix on your computer. You and him manage to get engrossed into the show quick enough, passing the wine bottle back and forth as you two laugh and become a tiny bit tipsy.

The sight of Jimin sitting next to you, so close and on your bed at that, has Jungkook practically fuming. Who was this guy? And why was he in your home? Our home, Jungkook corrects himself. He didn’t like the scene in front of him, jaw tensing and fists balling up next to his side. Finally, he decides that he needs to do something about it.

The incident with the wine bottle earlier had merely been an accident, he was just being nosey and trying to catch a glimpse at the intruder. But this time, as he once again let his shadowy figure show over in the far corner of your bedroom, he was doing it completely on purpose. And to his amusement the movement catches Jimin's attention from over on the bed, unbeknownst to you who is completely occupied with whatever is on the screen. Jungkook sees the man wipe at his eyes again as he did earlier, but instead of disappearing like he had done before, Jungkook merely steps closer, careful not to alert you.

Jimin shoots up from his spot next to you, “AH- I mean I...uh think I need to go to the bathroom!” you raise an eyebrow at his outburst before nodding and pointing him in the direction of the bathroom. He can’t get there fast enough, barely walking into the room before he practically slams the door behind him and leans against it, holding his hand to his chest.

His feet manage to get him over to the sink and he begins splashing water on his face as he tries to wrap his head around what he just saw in your room. Jimin knows he definitely saw something there, or did he? He can;t figure it out and in frustration begins rubbing aggressively at his eyes to try and set whatever had come loose in his mind straight. But when he lifts his head to take a glimpse in the mirror, he practically shits his pants at the face that looms behind him.

“Get out.” Jungkook growls.

Jimin screams bloody murder, “WHAT THE FUCK!” he yells, practically ripping the bathroom door off its hinges as he runs out and down the hall. You hear the commotion and rush out of your room, stopping him in the hallway and trying to get him to calm down. “Jimin, what the hell are you doing?!”

He just ducks around your figure and continues his way towards your front door, “Y/N I don’t know what type of sick prank you’re trying to play on me but I’m leaving. I’ll just see you at work tomorrow.” he says hurriedly, rushing out the door and slamming it behind him.

You couldn’t do anything but stare at the spot from where he had just left in shock, completely confused on what had happened. But you know Jimin had always been weird and you didn’t spend too much time mulling it over before shrugging and heading back to your room. You sigh, “More wine for me I guess.”

After that you proceed to drink yourself into a stupor, falling unconscious with your body hanging halfway off the bed and empty wine bottle still in hand, the sound of your computer still playing in the background. You didn’t know if it was the wine helping you out but not too soon after falling asleep you were already quickly drifting off to dreamland behind your closed eyelids.

“How could you let him in here?”  the same voice from the night before sounds around you. This time you were no longer in your bed, instead you stood in your empty kitchen, pushed up against the counter by the doe eyed stranger. His eyes no longer held the same curiosity and wonder they once had, but anger.

“W-what?” You stutter out, completely caught off guard by his accusing tone. “Let who in where?”

Your confusion only seemed to make him madder and he lets out a growl, “That idiot! How could you let him in?!” His words immediately makes it click, he was talking about Jimin. “This is supposed to be our home not his.”

The boy’s face is full of betrayal and you could tell his feelings were wounded. But the way he was talking was as if the apartment belonged to the both of you and last time you checked, only your name was on the lease. Your gaze is questioning as you continue to digest what he said, staring back at him and detecting the jealousy that was radiating from him. “Why do you care so much? I still don’t even know who you are.”

The internal battle showed on Jungkook's face, why did he care so much? He didn’t know why he was becoming so possessive over you, but the look on your face had him sighing. He raises a familiar hand up to your cheek, hesitating when your glare didn’t waver and hovering it there until you relax into him. His starry eyes gazed into yours, “I’m sorry.”

Your face softens at his words and you nod to show that you accepted his apology. The boy continues to look you over as if trying to memorize every feature of your face and when he seems to find what he’s looking for in them he begins leaning his head down closer. Your breath hitches in your throat at the action and you wait with bated breath as he slowly puts his mouth against yours. His lips are so cold to the touch it has you gasping, goosebumps rising on your skin, but you quickly adjust to the difference and with a sigh you begin returning the action.

It seemed like he was only waiting for your approval because as soon as you start moving your lips back against his, he begins deepening the kiss. The hand that once laid on your cheek begins moving down to grasp your neck gently, no real pressure there but the intention all the same. His other hand also finds its way to your hip, pulling you closer to his own so that you are pressed chest to chest with the counter still against your back. He nips at your bottom lip causing you to let out a hiss and giving him an opening to slide his tongue in between your lips and run over yours.

The kiss was beginning to have an effect on you and at that point you are practically chasing after his lips, straining on the tips of your toes to apply the same amount of pressure back against him. Jungkook notices you struggling and lifts you up onto the counter, setting you down and beginning to trail his lips down your neck. Immediately he begins leaving bruises in his wake, teeth nipping at any expanse of skin he can find. It has you hiccuping out small moans and gasps as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Uh I need...please...” You breathe out, words hesitating.

“Jungkook.” he mumbles against your neck. “My name is Jungkook.”

Beep!Beep!Beep!

The annoying sound of your work alarm has your eyes snapping open, chest heaving from the scare and you immediately sit up straight and begin looking around your room as if searching for something. When you finally realize you’re alone, you relax back into bed and stare up at the ceiling, trying to wrap your head around the small amount that you recall from your dream.

Raw bitten lips and soft hands trailing down over your figure flashed behind your eyelids and had you shuddering. You can't match a face to the mouth and hands that had roused such a reaction out of you and it frustrates you that you were grasping at straws trying to remember. The lingering feeling of lips on your neck sends a throb directly to your core and you can tell your skin was flushed. A deep sigh escapes you, “I need a cold shower.”

The dream stayed at the forefront of your mind the entire time you got ready even when you were in the shower, itching for relief to take yourself where the dream hadn’t. But since you were already late for work and rushing as usual, you didn’t have the time to do anything besides just wash yourself up and begin looking for something to wear. Upon opening the top dresser of your drawer to look for a set of underwear you’re met with the sight of gaps in your meticulous organization system. Not only was your favorite pair of comfortable work underwear missing but so was a thong you reserved specifically for going out. It has you tilting your head in confusion as you sweep your eyes around the room to see if they had been misplaced but with time ticking you couldn’t do much more and just chalk it up to them being in the laundry before finishing up and heading off to work.

As the next couple of weeks was spent busy with work and assignments you barely had much time to spend on yourself. However, an upside to the countless hours of labor your boss had you doing was ultimately getting a paycheck and as soon as you got your next one you began shopping to furnish the apartment. Of course you save some of it to go towards next month's bills and you get most of the new pieces from the swap meet but still it was something. Plus it looked like you were going to have to open up a savings account just to go towards a new collection of underwear as every week a new pair seemed to get lost despite there not even being that much space to hide.

“It's like they’re evaporating into thin air or something and I have no idea where they could be. I literally looked everywhere, Yoongi.” You tell your friend as two you sit enjoying a hot cup of coffee at a cafe down the street from his studio.

“Hmm well maybe that cat really liked how your underwear tasted.” His response was simply met with a face full of napkins.

Despite Yoongi’s snide remark it does have you thinking. Perhaps that kid's cat was still sneaking back into your apartment, I mean it did it once it could do it again for all you know. But you didn’t have time to get all worked up about it and just decide to buy some cheap off brand granny panties from the supermarket to get yourself by. Good thing the weekend was right around the corner and when it finally came you knew exactly what you were doing.

The sound of hot rushing water has your shoulders instantly relaxing, your hand swirling a cup of sweet smelling red wine as you stand watching the water rise. Nothing and you meant nothing felt better than when you finally sink down into the old porcelain tub, steam opening your pores as the water sloshes around your shoulders. “Fucking finally.” you mutter to yourself with a sigh, head laying back on the towel you had folded neatly behind you. Instantly it was like the weeks of stress from moving in and working nonstop melts off your bones and you feel ten times younger. You almost forget that you had done all of this to have a better life, not drive yourself into the ground.

You can’t help but let your mind drift back to the memories of the dreams you had been having almost every night. The kisses and touches from the faceless stranger quickly stirring up heat in your center. It seemed like every dream was only getting more and more exciting but just before you would find yourself trying to escalate it beyond just the sweet taste of his lips, you would wake up more frustrated than before. Your body was practically begging for it, but you just continued to push it off, shoving down your sexual frustrations for nex time. Problem is there was never a next time and you didn’t remember the last time you had an actual orgasm.

Slowly your hand begins tracing circles on the apex of your thighs under the water as you contemplate it, “Maybe it has been a long time.” you whisper to yourself finally caving in. Without a second thought your hand takes the leap, sinking down further to rub at your aching cunt that you had neglected for so long. A long drawn out sigh escapes as you feel yourself getting worked up, fingers quickly finding the bud that was nestled between your lips. It has your back arching from where it met the tub and legs spreading to accommodate your hand.

You spend a couple minutes toying with yourself just like that, one hand rubbing at your clit and the other flicking your nipples teasingly. But you know you wouldn’t be able to fully reach your climax sitting in there and decide to take it back to your room, cunt throbbing impatiently while you dry yourself off and drain the bathtub. Since it had been so long since you had indulged yourself like this, you decide to treat yourself and pull out your handy dandy vibrator. A not very big but still mighty sleek black rabbit with gold trim and over seven power settings. You don’t waste much time teasing and immediately you’re holding the toy against yourself, set to one of the highest vibrations.

“Shit!” You moan out, a laugh escaping as you already start to feel the signs of your orgasm approaching. You bite at your lip to try and conceal some of your noises, still stuck in the habit of trying to be quiet for the sake of a roommate. But it feels so good a couple managed to slip by as you pick up the pace of the vibrator, hips thrusting up to meet your motions.

You’re so distracted you don;t see Jungkook over in the corner of the room who watches intently from his spot. He had tried to be courteous when he caught you fondling yourself in the bathroom, you were a woman and you did have needs. But when he sees you pull that toy out of the small box you hid in your drawer and start holding the buzzing object against your clit he couldn’t look away. Jungkook had always wondered what you kept in there but didn’t particularly care enough to check, he was too preoccupied with stealing your underwear.

So as he continues to watch, eyes sweeping over your naked figure from head to toe as you quiver in pleasure, Jungkook can’t stop the hand that had found itself unconsciously pulling his cock out of his pants. From his spot he can see the way your nipples pebble in the open air and the point where the toy met your mound. His hand takes up the pace you held as you fuck yourself swiftly.

“A-ah feels s’ good…” you whine to no one in particular, mind conjuring up images of a man with dark brown hair and sultry eyes that sang of corrupted innocence. You didn’t know where the inspiration came from but it has you throwing your head back in welcome and exposing the apex of your throat as if asking for something. Secretly, Jungkook knows what it was you wanted and has to hold himself back from going over there and giving it to you.

“So good for me.” he whispers to himself, trying to keep the groan he wants to let out at the sight down to keep from alerting you. He just spits in his hand to make the glide easier as he starts thrusting into his hand, imagining the tight squeeze was your weeping cunt.

The buzz of the toy rings loud in the room along with the sound of your whines and moans as you continue rubbing it against your bud, occasionally slipping it down to tease at your entrance. The palm of your hand must've accidentally clicked the button on the end because suddenly kicking up to the last setting and your mouth opens in a silent scream. You can’t do much but just take it, hips raising off the bed and head thrown back with your eyes rolling back. Your legs are shaking with pleasure and suddenly the string that was holding your climax back snaps and you’re tipping over the edge.

“Jungkook!” you scream out, mind going blank and calling out a name you had never heard but still sounded so familiar. It has said man cursing and almost doubling over as cum bursts from the leaking tip of the swollen member in his fist. The pleasure ringing in your ears was too loud to hear the moans that he let out and you just continue letting the shockwaves roll through your figure, chest heaving from the effort.

When you finally come down from your high, you can only stare at the ceiling, limbs like jelly. The calming feeling of the orgasm warming you from the inside out has you smiling in content as you roll over and take a minute to collect yourself. Jungkook just continues to watch you silently, cock tucked back in and hand still covered in his own cum. His face holds a look of concentration as he internally weighs the pros and cons of the plan he was conjuring up in his mind because deep down, he knew he needed to have you.

----

A hand trailing up your side is what initially catches your attention, but what has you coming to was the feeling of teeth nipping at the nape of your neck. You don’t recall falling asleep but you recognize the touch and immediately know it’s the stranger that was visiting you every night. You crane your neck to catch a glimpse and meet his gaze, eyes simmering with lust.

“Don’t tease…” You whisper, voice breathy as you find yourself already starting to get riled just from the feeling of his fingers rubbing against your skin. He just smiles and places a gentle kiss on your lips, letting out a mischievous chuckle when he sees you try and chase after his mouth.

“I don’t plan to.” he says and flips you over onto your back, broad figure coming up to hover above you. Immediately his lips find your neck, his favorite place to start, and he begins trailing down to your chest all the while leaving hickeys in his wake.

All you can do is watch as he sets a torturous pace between lavishing at the swell of your breast and gently kissing the skin. When he finally decides to take one of your hard nipples into his mouth it has you letting out a whine, “Ah!” you cry, hands coming up to grip his shoulders. You feel his smile against your skin at your reaction. His smugness has you biting your lip, deciding to hold in your noises so as to not give him the satisfaction.

He notices your stubbornness as his eyes find yours and he mumbles against the mound he was still licking at, “Don’t try and fight it Y/N. I want to hear how  pretty you sound.” he says before gently nipping at the bud in his mouth making you hiss.

You want to shoot him a glare for his roughness but can’t stop your eyes from slipping shut when you feel his tongue flick over the nipple as if to soothe it. He just watches as you start to let yourself relax into his teasing, hand straying down your hip to cup your cunt. Your hips jump at the sudden touch but when he starts rubbing a fingertip up and down your slit, smearing your wetness around, you breath out a moan and toss your head back against the pillow. The slow build of pleasure he was giving you felt so good but was quickly making you frustrated.

“Please, I feel so empty.” you say and buck up into his hand. He pulls his hand away in retaliation and waits for you to calm down, which you do regrettably with a whine. When he sees you finally start to behave his hand goes back to its ministrations, this time rubbing at your clit. He continues this for a while along with alternating back and forth between both of your breasts. Occasionally his fingertip finds its way down to your entrance, dipping in just enough to give you a taste and make you moan at the stretch before pulling back and going back to the bundle of nerves. The pleasure feels so good and you quickly become distracted by the climbing climax you feel stirring in your core. It all felt so real it was hard for you to believe that you were dreaming.

Jungkook feels his heart swell at the sight of your hips grinding down on his hand in your sleep as you let cute little moans slip out of your mouth. After watching the show you put on earlier in the night, he couldn’t help but let himself sneak into your bed no matter how bad he felt about it. And you had made it so easy for him, falling asleep naked atop the covers like this. It was like you were begging him to touch you.

But he wants more of you “I just want a little taste.” he mumbles to himself, followed up by him scooting down your legs, face stopping right above your mound. His hands take up residence on your thighs so he can pull them apart as he stares hungrily at you.

Feeling the stimulation you were so desperately chasing after in your dream stopping so abruptly has you stirring in your sleep and when you feel the cool air touch your exposed cunt your eyes open, still heavy with sleep. When you realize that the hold on your legs you had been feeling hadn’t stopped with your lucidness your drowsiness completely vanishes.

“Wha’?” you question as your gaze flits down to where you feel the touch between your legs. Seeing the stranger you had been dreaming about for so long right here in front of you has your heart leaping up into your throat and you freeze. You open your mouth to protest but are silenced when you feel his tongue lick a fat stripe up from your entrance to your clit causing you to moan wantonly. The way he was using his fingers to spread your lips open had you whining in embarrassment from feeling so exposed. “Please!” you cry out, but whether it was a plea for him to stop or to keep going you didn’t know.

Jungkook can feel himself hardening at the sound of your cries, but right now the need to devour you was stronger than his need to cum. So when he doesn't hear any more complaints and your hips continue to chase after his mouth, he takes it as a sign to keep going, tongue licking up all the arousal that's leaking out of you.

The taste of you dripping into his mouth and down his chin has him letting out his own moans and in an effort to get more it delves into your hole and begins thrusting it in and out. He could feel your spongy walls squeezing down onto him and knew that you were probably getting close, especially since he had spent so long teasing you while you slept. So Jungkook decides to take mercy on you and brings a thumb up to rub at your clit, matching the rhythm of his tongue.

“Oh god!” you moan, hands gripping onto the dark mop of hair atop his head to ground yourself as your legs shake in his hold. The stimulation of being filled and having someone else finally touching you this way after so long was getting too much. And you were still sensitive from earlier when you had used your vibrator on yourself and his assault on your clit was bordering on painful. But that didn’t stop the pleasure from racking your form as your back arches off the bed and you start spiraling to your end.

Jungkook pulls his tongue away and replaces it quickly with two digits, continuing to push you closer to climax as he gazes at you in pure want. “I want to hear you say my name again.” he breathes out. He sees the confusion that flashes on your face before quickly being replaced when he gives a particular hard thrust with his fingers. “You know it Y/N, just say it for me one more time.”

You can barely register what he’s talking about and your head shakes back and forth as you so desperately chase after your orgasm. He can tell you’re heading over the edge quickly and gives one final thrust, this time curling his fingers inside you to hit that spot he knew would finish you. “Go ahead, princess. Cum.”

His command is what does you in, your body going stiff as you feel yourself cream on his fingers. You let out a drawn out moan, “S-shit! Jungkook!”. The grip you have on his hair is probably ripping out strands, but you don;t seem to care as your body is wracked with pleasure, orgasm ebbing through you. When Jungkook could tell you were starting to come down he slips his fingers out of you and maneuvers out of your hold, backing up towards the end of the bed.

As soon as you’re able to regain your senses it suddenly clicks in your brain what had just happened. The stranger from your dreams was real and he was in your apartment AND he had just given you probably the best head you’d had in awhile. “What the fuck is happening?!” You screech, scrambling upright in the bed and huddling close to the pillows as you hurriedly try to cover yourself and preserve what little modesty you had left. “How are you even here?! And who the fuck are you?!”

Jungkook just sighs, “I’m Jungkook...pretty sure we’ve been over this already.” he mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. His reply has you sending a glare his way.

“Well how I was supposed to know if that was your real name or not?!”

“You’ve called it out plenty enough times for it to be real at this point.” your leg flew out to give him a kick to the thigh at his snarky response but when your foot goes right through him you let out another screech and scurry off the bed across the room.

“You- you-” Your mind can’t seem to find the right word as you point at the man, hand shaking and eyes wide with fear. “My foot just went through your leg!”

“Yeah I can do that sometimes.” Jungkook says and proceeds to turn transparent, pale skin no longer looking solid but as if you could stick your hand straight through and he would come out unscathed. “I’m a ghost Y/N.”

All you could do was stand there, mouth agape and brain going completely haywire at his words. For a minute Jungkook thinks he has completely broken you until he watches as you calmly walk over to your closet to pull out some sweats and a shirt, dressing yourself before starting to head out of the room. He was confused but still got up from his spot on the bed to follow you as you proceeded towards the front door. “Wait! Where are you going?!” he says.

You turn on the heel of your foot and just stare at him bewildered, “There is a man, claiming to be a ghost, who can turn transparent in my apartment. I am going to check myself into the psych ward because I am obviously going nuts.”

Jungkook looks at you in concern. “Y/N I’m serious! I’m a ghost, I used to live here. I don’t know how long I’ve been like this but I can assure you that I’m no longer alive.” he could see you starting to realize the seriousness in his voice, “Trust me, you’re not crazy.”

Your gaze stays trained on him as you continue to digest what exactly he was saying before you seem to finally accept his claim. It has Jungkook visibly relaxing as he lets out a sigh of relief. But now that you knew you weren’t losing your mind your sense of curiosity was sparked. “Um if you don’t mind me asking..how exactly did you get like-” you gesture wildly to his figure “-this.”

He bites at his lip anxiously, “You mean how did I die?” you seem to have realized how invasive your question had been because he saw the embarrassed look that crossed your face as you nod nervously. “I don’t..I don’t really remember. I mean I guess I do? But it’s kind of a blur and I’ve never been able to piece it together no matter how hard I’ve tried.”

The two of you stand in silence for a while, awkwardly standing in the middle of your empty living room. You didn’t really know what to say, torn between both the fear and wonder that came with having a ghost in front of you. “Do you want me to leave?”

Jungkook's question catches you off guard. “What?! No no, I couldn’t make you do that!”

“Are you sure? I mean I don’t have anywhere else to go but its not like I could die-”

“Jungkook, it's honestly fine! This was your home first!” you say trying to get him to remove any thought of him not being welcomed, “As long as you um...stop popping up in my dreams and all that.” Your words have him blushing, cheeks blooming red and eyes widening in embarrassment.

“Yeah yeah no completely valid. I’m really sorry I don’t know why I did that. I didn’t think it would escalate that far.” Jungkooks words flow out of his mouth so fast they jumble together. “I'll return your underwear too.”

That has you letting out a sound of realization as you put two and two together, “You’re the underwear thief?! I thought that stupid cat was doing it!” He just chuckles nervously and bashfully looks at the ground as he plays with his hands, hating how much of a pervert he must’ve sounded like. You giggle at his reaction, “It’s okay Jungkook. We can just put that behind us, yeah?”

His face lights up with a small smile, those bunny teeth you remember vaguely seeing peeking out from behind his lips. “Yeah that would be great.”

After the two of you talk a little more about how everything would work around here from now on, you both part ways, you going back to your bed and Jungkook going to wherever he went at night. Briefly you hope that wouldn’t be your dreams but the twinge of absence you feel at the thought has you second guessing that maybe that hope was misplaced.

Over the next couple of weeks the two of you begin to settle into a bit of a routine. He was kind enough to respect your boundaries after your talk and, much to your delight, actually returned a few of your underwear to your drawers. Jungkook even went as far as to start making your coffee for you in the morning. “I know you hate having to rush to work so I just thought this would make it easier for you!” was his excuse. You had felt your heart skip a beat when he said that, grin stretching across his face sheepishly along with a blush.

Everything was going so smooth it almost felt normal, well as normal as living with a ghost in your apartment could be. But if there was one thing you can complain about, it was the sexual tension that undoubtedly remained around the two of you no matter how hard you had tried to push it down. You could feel it when he sometimes caught you coming out of the bathroom fresh out of the shower and only covered in towel, his eyes following the droplets of water as they flowed down your skin. Or how when you got back from a run and your body was covered in so much sweat your shirt clung to every part of your chest and his gaze couldn’t help but follow your pert behind as you walked past him in those godforsaken tight exercise shorts. It was killing the both of you.

You can’t even try and calm yourself down either as you’re too paranoid that he would accidentally catch you or be spying on you from somewhere in the shadows. Him catching you in the act wouldn’t even be the problem actually, but him hearing you call his name out while you did it is what you would never be able to live down. The man was the focal point of all your fantasies at this point and there was no guarantee that you would be able to stop yourself from calling out for him in the heights of pleasure.

But as the days ticked by and you felt your muscles grow stiff from work, the itch at the back of your head telling you to just cave in and give yourself just a tiny bit of release grew more persistent. Today had been a particularly bad day, your horniness making you so antsy that even Jimin noticed judging by the weird looks he was sending you the entire time you two sat at your desks. And when Jungkook greeted you once you got home you didn’t even have it in you to meet his eyes, only squeaking out a small ‘hi’ before rushing past him. You had planned to just ignore it like you had been doing so far but that seemed to be easier said than done.

Tonight Jungkook had suggested that you guys watch something new he said was premiering tonight. And since all your new furniture had been delivered, the two of you would be able to sit and watch it on the tv at a safe distance instead of having to share your bed and huddle entirely too close over your small laptop.

The movie was actually pretty good once you start watching it and not internally screaming at being in the same room as the man who made you want to jump on his dick at any second. Your attention became completely absorbed in the screen, so much so that you forgot that Jungkook was even sitting down on the couch from you. But when the mood in the scene suddenly changes and the two feuding main characters start tearing each other's clothes off (talk about plot twist) you gulp. Suddenly you’re all too aware of how easily it would be to just scoot over and climb on top of his lap.

You try to focus your mind on anything but the moans coming from the movie but after being so pent up, just watching the shots of pleasured filled faces has your core throbbing. Images of the dreams you used to share with Jungkook run through your mind and you can’t stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together in an effort to relieve some of the ache between your legs.

Next to you, Jungkook could tell that what was happening in the movie was affecting you. He had tried to be on his best behavior these past few weeks as he was trying to make up for the bad impression he made when you first moved in. But he can see the movement of your thighs and was barely holding on to the shred of chivalry he had left. Maybe if he just offers you a little help it would be okay?

“Y/N-” he starts out, reaching a hand over to touch your leg in an effort to catch your attention. Immediately the feeling of his warm palm laying on you after so long has you letting out a small moan escape your lips, your hands slapping over your mouth the minute you realize. You shut your eyes in embarrassment and you can feel your face flushing with heat.

Jungkook opens his mouth to say something but you can’t bear to hear it. “I’m going to my room!” You say hopping up from the couch and rushing down the hallway to your bedroom, the sound of the door slamming shut behind you ringing around the apartment. You’re completely mortified by what happened out there in the living room. Were you that horny that just a simple touch had you wanting to risk it all?

Your back was pressed against the door and your mind was racing as you internally curse at yourself. But the sound of a knock on the door has you jolting up as you squeak, “Go away!”

You hear Jungkook shuffle on the other side of the door, “Y/N? Can you open the door? I just want to talk.”

“Jungkook, I’m fine! I just need a minute!” You lie and hope that he believes you. But of course, this was Jungkook, and he pays no mind to your words as he walks straight through the closed door. Fuck ghosts and their stupid nonsolid bodies. “Jungkook, I thought we talked about you not using your weird ghost powers to invade my privacy!”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice, I asked nicely.” He says while raising his hands up innocencently. You sigh exparrated and crossed your arms in irritation before turning your back towards him. “Y/N, when are you going to stop pretending?” Jungkook says from behind you.

His question makes you stiffen as you know exactly where he was heading with this. “...Pretending about what?” you say feigning cluelessness.

“Pretending that you don’t want me.” the response makes you gulp, heart pounding in your chest. You hear him step closer, “I see the way you look at me..and I know you see the way I look at you too.”  The feeling of his hand landing on your shoulder makes you gasp before suddenly you’re turned around and pulled closer to his chest, your head tilting up to look at his face. His eyes are staring deep into yours and you can see the lust swimming in them, it has you biting at your lip. Jungkooks gaze follows the movement.

“Jungkook, I…” you trail off as you get lost in his dark irises, feeling the tension in the room start to grow. “I need you.”

At that, he squeezes you tightly in response “You have me.”

Jungkook didn’t waste time before walking you backwards towards the bed, both of your hands scrambling over each other's body as your lips locked. There was so much pent up want between the both of you that you didn't even take time easing into it, teeth nipping at each other's lips and your tongues fighting for dominance. When you feel the edge of the bed knock against the back of your knees you sit down, pulling Jungkook down over you as you lay spread out across the sheets.

His broad shoulders tower over you making you feel so small compared to him, but inwardly you love the feeling of being completely overpowered by the man. Jungkook breaks the kiss to pull his shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the room before he dives back down to start mouthing at the corner of your jaw. “Hmm take this off.” he says as he tugs at your top. You don’t need much convincing and slightly raise yourself to lift it over your head, Jungkook backing up to accommodate the movement. You hadn’t been wearing a bra as you normally didn’t when lounging around the apartment so when Jungkook catches sight of your pert nipples hardening in the exposed air he lets out a groan. “Y/N, I fucking love your tits.”

His crude compliment makes you laugh but it’s interrupted when he takes a bud into his mouth, his hand coming to fondle the other one. He rolls your nipple between his teeth, alternating between flicking it with his tongue and sucking on it. His ministrations has your back arching into his embrace as you let out small breathy gasps. You can feel his member hard in his jeans against your leg and reach down to tug on the waistband of the pants. “Jungkook, come on. Wan’ you.” you mumble, quickly growing impatient.

He just chuckles and pulls away from your nipple, a string of saliva connecting his lips back to it. He heeds your bratty command and pops the button of his pants, standing up briefly to pull them down along with his underwear. The sight of his cock has you squeezing around nothing. In all your dreams you had never gotten so far as to him inside you, so seeing it for the first time was breathtaking. It wasn’t big per se but it certainly was longer than average and it had girth to it that would definitely have you stretching to accommodate. A couple small veins run up the side of it and your eyes follow them up to the bright red head that had already begun leaking with precum.

It has you rushing to take the rest of your clothes off as well, tossing them to the side before looking up at him lustfully, parting your legs in welcome. His gaze instantly lands on your cunt, watching your hole twitch as if begging to be filled. It has his breath catching and he crawls his way back over you, one hand placed next to your head to hold himself up while the other trails down your side and in between your legs.

You whine when you feel his finger prod at your entract instead of what you really wanted. He let out a chuckle at that, “Sorry princess I have to get you prepped first.” he says, a digit circling around your entrance to spread your arousal. When he deems it slick enough, he finally dips his finger inside you, moving it in and out slowly, occasionally curling it up to rub at that soft spot inside you.

“uh!” hiccup moans leave your lips as you lay back with closed eyes, letting him stretch you open in preparation. The feeling of a second finger has you gasping a little, but to ease the intrusion you feel him bring the pad of his thumb up to gently toy with your clit. He feels more of your arousal leak out around his fingers and uses that to slide in a third, the stretch of your walls making his cock twitch. He continues thrusting them for a while, listening to your sounds of pleasure before he starts scissoring them inside of you.

The pace his fingers take up pushes you to the edge and the combination of his thick fingers inside you hitting your g spot and the assault on your clit was what did you in. “Jungkook!” you cry as you climax, hips bucking to meet his hand as you cum.

He watches you intently as you topple over the edge, not stopping his fingers but slowing them down enough to ride you through your high without it being painful. You can feel your high coming down and open your eyes to look at him, biting your lip at how sexy he looks over you. “Jungkookie..” you sigh, hand trailing up his abdomen.”Wan’ your cock.”

Your words have him groaning as his member lets out another drop of precum on his thigh. He wants so badly to be inside you already but he knows the minute he is, he would be done for and it would be over too soon for his liking. So instead he proceeds to pull his fingers out, stuffing them between his lips and moaning at the taste. You watch him hungrily, already feeling empty without something inside you.

Jungkook pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a pop before trailing his mouth down your torso, nipping and sucking at the skin. He mumbled against your skin, “Just want to taste you first.” His nose bumps your clit when he finds his way between your legs causing your hips to jump at the sensitivity. He soothes it over with a lick, but that just has you pushing at his head. “I’m too sensitive!” you whine, trying to shut your legs.

He tuts and holds your legs open, tongue continuing to draw circles around the bundle of nerves. “Just one more, princess. One more and I’ll give you my cock, okay?”

You hesitate for a second, not knowing if you have it in you but nod in the end, afraid if you didn’t he’d never get inside you. Jungkook smiles at your confirmation and gives your thigh a kiss then goes back to licking at your clit. His tongue trails up and down your slit, dipping in and circling around your most sensitive areas. It has you turning into a panting mess especially when he finally decides to stop teasing you and cups you entirely with his mouth, proceeding to devour you as if he was starving. You can feel the juices leaking down between your lips and know the sheets were going to be an absolute mess in the morning but you don’t care, hips riding his face as your orgasm begins to build.

“S-shit!” you squeak, gripping on the sides to ground yourself as your thighs squeeze around his head. Jungkook moans at the suffocation, pace picking up as he licks up every last drop of you. It’s the vibrations from his sounds of enjoyment that has you creaming around his tongue. This time he stops once he knows you’ve cum, not wanting to push your sensitivity too much just yet, and kisses his way back up to your lips. You taste yourself in his mouth but you don’t care as you let him kiss your already raw bitten lips.

“You were so good for me, princess. ‘m gonna fuck you now.” you moan at his words, nodding your head almost embarrassingly fast.

Your legs part around his hips as you look down between your legs, seeing his rock hard member already poking its tip at your entrance. Jungkook braces himself before slowly sliding the tip inside you, both of you moaning at the feeling. His head throws back and his eyebrows furrow as he concentrates on trying not to bust his load just from entering you. “So tight..f-fuck y/n.”

You feel the same, already feeling like you’re gonna cum just from the way he stretched you out. You swear you can feel him in your stomach and he hadn’t even gotten all the way in. Your legs find their way around his hips, pulling him in closer before finally you feel the tip of his cock sit snugly against your cervix. Above you, Jungkook’s breathing heavily and you grow impatient, squeezing your walls down on him. He growls, “y/n if you keep doing that I’m not gonna be able to last long enough to make you cum.” he complains, voice strained.

You smirk and squeeze down around him again, relishing in the strained noise he makes. “Then you better hurry up and fuck me, ghost boy.” He just sends you a glare and starts pulling his hips back. For a second you think he’s going to pull out of you completely, afraid that your teasing angered him enough to stop. But instead he thrusts back into you hard, knocking the wind out of you and making stars light up in your eyes.

Instantly he takes up a rough pace, hips snapping against yours so hard you moan in both pleasure and pain. “so- so big..” you hiccup.

He growls at your words, cock picking up the pace “you like that, yeah?”

“I love your cock- i love it- ”  you cry, using your legs around his waist to help you fuck yourself down onto his cock.

Jungkook pounds you with such speed it has you breathless and you can’t even form coherent words, slurring out jumbled words. He just continues rolling his hips against you as you fall apart beneath him “such a dirty slut. Fucking yourself on my cock like this.” he laughs as he sees you don’t even stop at his words. “I bet you wanted me to see you fuck yourself on that vibrator, huh? The way you called out my name like that as if I was the one in your slutty pussy.”

“yes- yes fuck me harder-” you sob around the words from pleasure, nails scratching down his back. “-wanna be your slut jungkook-”

He fucks you without mercy. You don’t even register when you feel his finger prod at the entrance to your ass. “Fuck you gonna let me in here, princess? Let me make you feel even better?”

You’re gasping with every thrust he gives and can’t respond, just letting out a chorus of “ah!ah!ah!”

He takes your lack of response as a yes and uses the liquid leaking from between the two of you as lube as his finger breaches the entrance. His hips falter at how you suck him in, “fuck! Princess, you're just begging for something to fill you up in there huh?”

Jungkooks asking too many questions and you don’t even know what he’s talking about. Too caught up in the pleasure of how his cock knocks at your womb with every thrust.

His hips snap forward to meet yours, rough enough to leave bruises, and he growls down at you “answer me” he says.

You can't stop the sounds of pleasure that tumble from between your lips as you answer through the fog “yes, yes, yes-” you moan “fill me up- i want your cock-” “You already have my cock princess, remember?” his hips grind against yours as he sits snugly inside. “You want another? Hmm so greedy, but since you asked so nicely.” Your mouth opens in a silent scream, eyes rolling back into your skull so you can see the white of them. His cock is already pounding inside you, so why does it feel like he’s inside your ass now too?

Both members move in tandem inside of you. As soon as one pulls back, the other one is pushing back inside. Your mind is too far gone to understand how he’s doing this but you don’t care. I’m in heaven you think to yourself, tongue lolling out your mouth.

Above you Jungkook is grunting as he continues to pound you into the mattress, face strained from the effort. He can feel his end approaching and decides he needs to get you there first so he reaches down to stroke at your clit, matching the aggressive pace of his hips.

“Too much!” you shout “‘s too much- i can’t!”

“yes you can.” he growls, each syllable paired with a thrust as he races to the edge. “Go ahead and cum princess.”

Your body thrashes uncontrollably underneath him, curses flying from your lips. Your climax is rising and burning through you and it feels so good, his cocks feels so good pounding inside you. suddenly you’re crashing down and your mouth slacks open letting out lewd, drawn out moans as you cum,

reaching his own high, jungkook moans too, his thrusts becoming shallow and a string of curses flow from his mouth as he slumps down next to you, cock slipping out of you with a squelch. You register the feeling of his seed dripping out of you as both of your holes squeeze around nothing from being empty once again. Your legs shake and you can’t even raise an arm to wipe at the sweat that drips down your face.

He sees you struggling to make yourself comfortable and pulls you close to his chest, shushing you as you reel from the strength of the orgasm you just had. You hum at the feeling, struggling to keep yourself awake.

“Stay with me?” you say, staring up at him drowsily, completely spent.

You know your hair is a complete mess and you smell sticky with sweat but that doesn’t stop Jungkook from looking down at you, dark eyes shining like stars as he whispers, “Always.”

Jungkook held you for the rest of the night and despite the temperature difference, you slept soundly. It was weird having a roommate that you couldn’t tell your friends about or tell them that you were also sleeping with him. Even harder to not be able to tell them you were falling for him. Ultimately, Jungkook was dead and eventually you would have to part ways. But for now you were going to enjoy his ever looming presence, even if that meant your underwear was going to continue to go missing.

(Jungkook still continues to blame the cat to this day)

detention - KNJ

↣ Namjoon wants to believe that he’s not a bad guy, but you’re unafraid of acting on your desires.

pairing — namjoon x reader

genre/rating — R | smut, slight angst

word count — 4K

play — detention by melanie martinez

warnings/tags — math teacher!joon, high school au, legal age gap (reader is 18), strong language, infidelity, sir kink, y/n is…kinda twisted, scent kink, explicit smut — edging, oral (f), face riding, clit biting, cum eating, biting/scratching, multiple orgasms, fingering, panty stuffing (in mouth?), dirty talk, bit of degradation, spanking, protected sex, cowgirl, slight dacryphilia

a/n — throwback to 2019 when I was obsessed with the K-12 album

∞

It’s not like you care. The scowls from the prissy girls sitting a foot away from your irascible teacher’s desk makes you laugh to yourself, pissing them off further when you give them the finger, their faces scrunch up in repulsion, whispers no doubt filled with the talk of your platform boots that are crossed over your boyfriend’s lap.

A smile graces your face when you hear your name being boomed out into the sterilized room, having expected his early admonishment.

He points to your shoes and Jungkook lets your calves go reluctantly, pulling the seat of his chair in closer to his desk. You scoff. What can a sexually deprived, under-paid man do other than hand you a detention slip?

Keep reading

hard liquor | myg. (m)

➵ summary: your dull evening at a bar becomes hopeful when your mysterious, handsome boss min yoongi shows you the ropes on everything alcohol, but shows you much more when he ends up buried deep inside you.

➵ pairing: executive boss!yoongi x employee!reader

➵ genre: business!au, age gap!au (5 years), smut, pwp

➵ rating: 18+

➵ word count: 8k

➵ warnings: alcohol consumption, teasing, explicit sexual content, pussy fondling, semi-public fingering, exhibitionism, humiliation, dry-humping, begging, titty sucking, marking, manhandling, dirty talk, elevator sex, tipsy sex (consensual), cum-eating, impregnation kink, creampie <3

➵ a/n: HELLOO THIS FIC IS FINALLY HERE!! thank you endlessly to everyone who’s patiently waited and shown support for this before it was even written, i hope it reads well!! 🥺 a million thank you’s to my wife @amourtae​ for beta-ing!! your feedback is always appreciated <3

“One more sangria, please.” 

“Haven’t you had enough of those?” 

Keep reading

sweetener | myg (m)

Summary: You used to know how he sounded when you were wrapped around him, but circumstances have pulled you apart and sent you scattering in opposite directions. Feelings shouldn’t reappear so easily by simple words, but when you find yourselves in the same place once again, this is exactly what happens.

⋙ pairing: Yoongi x female reader ⋙ rating: 18+ ⋙ genre: fwb/kinda enemies to lovers; fluff, smut ⋙ warnings: a misunderstanding, former fuckboy!yoongi, pent-up feelings, very light angsty bits buuuut mostly cute hot stuff, hobi – the frustrated wingman; explicit sexual content: dom!yoongi, sub!reader, making out in a bathroom, oral (f. & m. receiving), hair pulling, grinding, protected sex, dirty talk, teasing, pussy/tiddie slapping (i think), light spanking – yoongi slaps it all, degradation, praising, biting, he comes on her tits, spit, light choking, rough sex, manhandling, cum play, aftercare, some crack dialogue i guess, most of this is smut tbh. ⋙ word count: 10.3k ⋙ a/n: this was supposed to be a 5k pwp 😐 but anything for the BIRTHDAY BOY !! i adore this man, may only good things happen to him ever 😭 here’s my little love letter to min suga. genius. <3 also lowhighkey dedicated to @sugalaritae​ who brainstormed this w me (came up with this wonderful summary, too !!) and just, ugh – i just love her, she deserves to be spoiled <3

MASTERLIST | WIPS

You should’ve listened to your guts when they told you to stay home this morning. Maybe you could’ve avoided Yoongi’s presence for some longer that way.

Keep reading

Illicit Affairs - Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten)

Wordcount: 13.2k

Genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, idol!Au

Rating: 18+

Plot: After exchanging a series of steamy texts while he was away, finally Yoongi and Kitten manage to meet again; however, the boldness of their previous exchanges makes room for more tender feelings. In the ten days that follow their reunion, they manage to find balance between their jobs and the nights spent together in Yoongi’s apartment, sharing intimacy and passion.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Swearing. These two swear a lot. Breast worship (touching, kissing, licking, biting, marking, scratching, bruising), masturbation (male and female receiving), oral sex (male receiving), cumplay, cum eating, cream pie, unprotected sex (use a condom unless you’re all clean), phone sex, sexting, (on a plane too, which sort of leads us to mile high club, kinda…?) A fair amount of making out and dirty talking. That should be all. Mild oral fixation. If you squint. And crying after sex (in the best way possible, I promise)

Here is the music companion! (spotify link) And here is my masterlist

Enjoy 💜✨

Keep reading

Illicit Affairs — Hoseok

Pairing: Hoseok x reader (nicknamed Giggles)

Wordcount: 11.2k

Genre: Smut. A tiny little bit of angst and fluff too but. Smut.

Rating: 18+

Hi bumblebees! Thank you for staying with me so far and for being so kind with hey works and my continuously shifting schedule.

Quick plot! Hoseok and Giggles have just met: Giggles was the substitute for Mickey’s vet and she helped the doggo and Hoseok during an emergency, however the hour they spent together was enough for Hoseok to develop a quite intense crush for the young woman. He decides he wants to invite her for a date and picks his apartment as the location, going out of his way to try to impress her. However, the elegant dinner miserably crashed once his poor nerves abandon him. Fortunately, Giggles can take the reins, but is also willing to give them up at the right moment.

Special thanks to beta extraordinaire, @hobiandsprite​ I really love you. Please, don’t be sad and let those giggles out every now and then.

Moving on to The Big Stuff.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, swearing. Basic BDSM training, Sir!Hoseok x sub!reader; safe sex, briefest mentions of masturbation (male and female), grinding, humping, making out, lots of tongue action, food play (and very messy one at it), cum play, cum eating, mild choking kink, one (1) breast slap, mild fetishism (panties, perfume/smells). Hoseok is overall very controlling, especially while he’s giving her basic training. There’s some sort of exhibitionism (if you like,,,, squint). Also Hoseok is a neurotic mess, Giggles is also quite tense and both like each other a lot, which leads to a few moments of weakness here and there. Mentions of vet emergency (don’t worry, Mickey is doing alright, he was just suffering from the hot temperatures).

Here you can check my full masterlist

And remember to vote for next prompt!!!

Enjoy 💜✨

Keep reading

Partition — chapter 4

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Lotus) x Jungkook

Wordcount: 6.6k

Genre: so much smut I’ll need to bathe in holy water, some fluff to tone down the fith. Namkookxreader; CEO!Namjoon, Assistant!Guk, Lingerie brand owner!Reader

Rating: 18+

Hello, my beautiful tiger lilies!

Finally! Chapter 4 of Partition! (for the Masterlist look here)!

Summing up the plot: Jeongguk, Namjoon and Lotus are ready to get physical. Of course it takes some adjusting, but the night has an inevitable happy ending (actually, several).

Author’s note: The main plot is mostly over. I might come back someday to mess around with these characters – mostly with drabbles or one shots, but for now I think I’d like to leave them some space, but also give myself space to choose where I want this story to go. I’d be more than happy to answer asks or drabble requests for these characters.

Thanking the incredible @sahmfanficbts for editing this. You’ve been a sweetheart, and you’ve given me feedback on so many points I could improve. I can’t wait to work on those 💜🥰

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Some swearing; Soft dom!reader, Dom!Namjoon, Sub!Jk, cockwarming, spanking (very mild and brief), biting, handjob (male and female receiving), grinding, unprotected sex, marking (scratching, biting, bruising), oral sex (male and female receiving), lots of making out and words of affirmation, cum eating, cum play, sloppy seconds (sort of), cream pie

My plain ol’ kinky idol!au masterlist is right here. Remember to vote for next prompt (if you haven’t done so already 😉 link in bio)

Enjoy! 💜 ✨

Keep reading

Blurred Lines | 03 (final)

➬ Title | Blurred Lines

➬ Pairings | Kim Seokjin x reader

➬ Genre | Smut, Sexual Tension!au, Teacher!Jin, Teacher!reader, Tattooed Biker!Jin

➬ Summary | A new place to live, a new job, a new beginning. Six months have passed and everything has been going well for you in starting over. The warm welcome from your students and peers have quickly made you feel at home, yet you still long to have one calm day where you wouldn’t have to walk into the school with a heavy weight on your shoulders and the air thick with tension. Blame it on him—the strict Math teacher who keeps giving you cold shoulders no matter how many times you try to play nice. One night out with your girls and a drunken dare ultimately lead you to uncover what he’s been trying to hide. People do say that the quiet ones always keep the biggest secret.

↳ Ratings | +18 / M for Mature

↳ Warning | Slow burn, mutual pinning, mention of alcohol consumption, sexual tension, hard dom!Jin, tattooed Jin, dick piercing, clothed foreplay, hand job, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm denial, dirty talk, mild degradation (it’s barely there, but I feel like adding this just in case), cum play, creampie, unprotected sex (though he did use a condom at some point), choking (light), bondage.

↳ Word count | 15.5k words

➥ Cross post | AO3 | Inkitt

➥ ⇠ Previous Chapter

If only you had known just how exhilarating it feels to ride on a motorcycle, perhaps you would have done this a long time ago.

Riding on the back of Seokjin’s motorcycle feels peaceful and relaxing, but not enough to draw you to feel sleepy no matter how much fun you have been having tonight with all the drinking and dancing. Any fear you have had of falling disappears so easily with your arms wounded tightly around him, anchoring you onto his broad back. It also helps that he keeps his word, making sure not to speed too fast as he drives down the street, passing the loud and crowded downtown area as he continues heading out towards the city’s borderline.

Keep reading

Lavender Honey | KNJ | Part 1

A Sons of Midas story

Pairing: Chaebol!Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Honey)

Wordcount: 19.1k

Genre: angst, smut, fluff. Childhood friends turned fwb turned enemies turned (eventually, potentially, hopefully) lovers. Also, everybody is pretty much filthy rich.

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: Namjoon — man of many women, successful businessman is nothing but a rotten piece of soul living in memories and what-ifs. His life is nothing but completing his endless tasks fast enough to hide himself in a sweet scent from the past. What happens when the gentle perfume waltzes back into his present together with the only one he ever loved?

One large disclaimer and a smaller rant. I've recently seen a very popular bts gif blog accusing a writer of being toxic simply because they depicted one of the boys as a "fuckboy", and proceded with slutshaming the writer for writing smut. Now, if you can't understand the difference between a character from a work of fiction and a real person, that is probably a very good reason for you not to read this piece of fiction. I do not condone any of the behaviour in this fic: I am but a mere narrator.

Trigger warnings: both Namjoon and Honey engage in extremely disreputable anthics. Namjoon is depicted as a selfish womanizer, therefore if this bothers you, please do not read any further. Namjoon has also blatant issues with alcohol and anxiety. Again, if this makes you uncomfortable, please scroll away now. I repeat, I do not condone alcoholism; it was vaguely hinted through the fic since I didn't want it to become an unbearably heavy theme for myself and other more sensitive readers. In terms of smut, we have several hints at oral sex (m&f receiving), public sex and public masturbation, hate sex. There is mention of cheating (just a kiss). Mentions of threesome and foursome. Biting and marking. Borderline fetishism (perfume). Swearing and obviously consumption of Alcohol.

Acknowledgements: all the ladies involved in this collab, starting from @joheunsaram. Mars, my beta, my love. Thank you for everything. @taegularities, too precious for this world. @honeyj00ns, thank you for your kind affection. @biaswreckme, my newest friend. @hobiandsprite, my strongest possum, and an honorary mention to @aroseforyoongi, unspeakably precious.

The link to my masterlist can be found here

The Spotify playlist can be found here

Enjoy 💜✨

A laugh echoed through the final swirls of sleep before the alarm swept into his dream and washed it away.

Reality was bitter on his tongue while the scent lingering in his nostrils was anything but.

He stretched his arms above his head, his pectorals softly aching with the best remnant of effort. He remembered the leggy blonde from Friday night. And the sweet, kinky best friends from Saturday — and a good part of Sunday.

His grin disappeared slowly as he stood, feeling a slight headache.

Any sort of lightness evaporated once he saw the agenda for the day.

The Royal Garden — meeting at 10.

He sunk back into the mattress. He decided to send an email to Milla, his assistant, and tell her he would be working from home until the meeting.

He felt too raw to be in public. He simply got up and headed to the shower.

He hated everything for a few seconds.

He hated himself more than everything.

And then he remembered it was not his fault.

He was alone, but it was not his fault. It was not his choice.

He checked himself in the mirror.

He was young. Hot. Rich. Not that young anymore, actually. But that added to the charms.

He didn’t bother brushing his teeth and went for breakfast. The day was already too upsetting to go for fresh fruit and muesli and unsugared yogurt.

He threw everything away and stretched all the way to the top shelf, finding his priced stash of heavily sugary breakfast treats. Nutella. Lucky charms.

He grinned and filled himself to the brim with artificial sweeteners, until it almost made him numb, too energised to be bothered with minor inconveniences such as The Royal Garden.

He tried to work, and then he tried harder; still, he already knew he would remain unfocused until that unfortunate investment would be one of his little pastimes, nothing more.

He wasn’t too heavily involved with it anyway, but whenever the name appeared in his agenda, his stomach would unsettle, his legs would shake and his soul would turn into a black hole, dragging in everything light and happy.

He would splurge on sugar and alcohol and women. So many women…

Too many.

He managed to waste time, lost in his mind, staring at the documents he was pretending to read. Luckily, he managed to come back to earth in time to get properly dressed and get his driver’s call.

The Cho Beauty Industry was as usual busy, incredibly animated. Namjoon strolled through the lobby coolly, unbothered, Milla greeting him in front of the meeting room.

“Do you need me to take notes?”

“Yes, please. Thank you, Milla.”

“Don’t worry. I got you.” The secretary touched his shoulder with a kind smile. “Did you sleep?”

He nodded absentmindedly, refusing to expose just how exhausted he made himself before he managed to sleep like a baby.

“How was your weekend?” He asked, sitting down beside her in the large room.

“Nara came over. It was a good weekend.”

Namjoon nodded. “Good for you.” He took his tablet, already setting up the layout for some notes, sadly knowing he wouldn’t be able to take any.

The man standing beside the projection screen bowed in acknowledgment before Namjoon bowed even deeper.

The meeting started without ceremonies, diving deep into discussion of the several points. Mr Cho was an organised, straightforward man, characteristics that Namjoon had learnt to love through the years but that left an unpleasant feeling in his heart. He detached himself from that.

He detached himself from the unsettling sensation of Mr Cho’s eyes staring at him. He suddenly felt sad. Lonelier. Observed and judged.

He was far from heaven — probably the farthest he’d ever been — but he didn’t care. He didn’t believe in heaven. Although in hindsight, he knew he had known heaven once. He’d been there too.

The shape and colour, and vibrant, steady and calm determination of those eyes reminded him every single time.

Mr Cho’s cool voice came like an unintended shot in the dark. A bullet with an unexpected trajectory.

“After careful thinking and planning we are discontinuing The Princess.”

Milla’s eyes immediately went to Namjoon’s face, Mr Cho staring at the young man, feeling extremely sorry that Namjoon had avoided all the emails and calls and attempted meetings when he’d tried to break the news to him in a delicate, heartfelt way.

Mr Cho already knew the man would give him a hard facade and then go home, disappear from everything and everyone for a few days, only to come back with one more wrinkle on his face and one more notch on the bedpost. Or maybe seven.

A boy he’d raised almost as his own was wasting away and he couldn’t do anything. He was one of the most remarkable businessmen in the city — actually in the whole country, and then some — and he’d landed some of the most important achievements in the history of his firm before turning thirty. He was slowly coming undone, but there was no actual proof of the inner decay he had been undergoing for a few years now.

Namjoon’s face was indecipherable, completely impassive in some sort of indifference he’d mastered ages ago.

Inside, he was the opposite.

Inside he was feeling his memories fade away. Lavender flowers, stretching out for metres and metres in a long line. A gentle smile. Honest, fearless eyes rolling shut in bliss. The sweet feeling of soft hair wrapped around his fingers. Tender lips against his neck. Giggles echoing in an empty room. The sound of a breathing body laying beside him in the sun. Moonlight reflected on the lake. Gingham dresses. Sunlight coming in through lace curtains. Cherries. The taste of almond lip balm. Moans echoing in the lake house. Bubble baths. Candles. Lavender. Picnic baskets. Honey. The sound of water against the row boat.

Namjoon inhaled.

Lavender honey filled his lungs.

And disappeared.

“I oppose.”

Many people in the room went quiet.

“It’s a line that needs to be renovated. It’s old.”

“Then redo the packaging.” Namjoon felt his heart beat twice as fast while his entire being slipped in criminal coldness.

“We intend to discontinue the line.” Mr Cho repeated, trying to be as clear but also as tactful as possible.

“It’s a bestseller.”

“We intend to invest in new products.”

“Why give up on a product that made your brand? It’s a sure source of income. Working on new fragrances will take time, and you’ll have to build a new target customer. It will be expensive. Too expensive, in my opinion,” Namjoon crossed his arms, his jaw flexing in a way that made his teeth hurt.

“The Princess is old by now. We need to make way for a new concept. New flowers in our garden.”

Namjoon froze at the secret meaning of the sentence.

The rest of the meeting went on without a hitch, Namjoon so tuned out that he didn’t realise the event was over.

Mr Cho politely fretted through greetings and goodbyes, refusing lunch invitations and all those formalities to try and reach Namjoon before he left.

Milla met Cho’s gaze and hesitated before calling her boss back to reality.

“Namjoon, boy. I tried to warn you—”

He looked up at the man as he felt his shoulder being touched. “It’s okay.”

“I really wanted—”

“I’m not a child anymore, I can handle it. I’m just considering if I’m interested in this project anymore.”

Mr Cho felt his heart sink. He had always known that the tie between Namjoon and The Royal Garden was something fickle and nostalgic, but at the same time something that ran too deep to be forgotten.

“You’re not interested in The Knight?”

“I don’t want The Knight. You know it.” Namjoon’s eyes were filled with freezing rage. “What’s the next flower?”

“Namjoon—”

“Give me The Princess,” his eyes were softening in a way Cho hadn’t seen in almost two decades. Actually there was a night he’d seen them from very up close, but he didn’t like remembering it.

He could still see the young man dragging his feet up the stairs, ricocheting between the wall and the railing as he climbed up, stumbling, barely upright until he crawled to the room he knew like his own, crying his lungs out, balled up on the carpet like an abandoned child, mourning for an unphysical loss that shouldn't have made him feel like his guts had been clawed out.

“Give me The Princess,” Namjoon’s voice broke. “Please.”

Cho rubbed the man’s arm. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Milla hinted at greetings. “Need me to call someone?” She asked as the young man grabbed a small bottle from a slot in the car door.

The smell of gin filled the car quickly.

Milla did not judge. She already knew what was coming.

“Call Nina.” Namjoon took a large sip. “And Lia. I’m out for the day.”

“My child! My flower! She is home! Finally!” Your father’s arms welcomed you in a hug so tight you could barely breathe.

“Dad!”

“Quiet, my baby is back!” He shushed you, pressing your cheek to his. “You’re back.”

“I’m back,” you confirmed, holding your dad close and welcoming the sweet comfort his arms offered. He had a question he was dying to ask, but he would hold himself back, at least for a while.

“Your friends will be so eager to see you!” He hinted, giving you a meaningful stare.

“Sure, they already know I’m back. We’ll have a reunion soon. I was considering dinner. Something relaxed, like barbecue. I missed it!” You smiled, trying to make your way out of the dangerous topic. There was only one friend your dad could be referring to, but you had no intention of discussing that already.

“Your room is still the same!” He said enthusiastically but also softly.

“I was scared you had turned it into Lola and Lars’ playroom,” you commented, watching the two dogs sniffing at you, especially since you were almost a stranger to them.

Spending nine years abroad meant many things, like your mother getting dogs to find someone else to coddle and spoil and spend time with, but also losing ties with anyone, feeling like a plant suddenly changed of environment, the new soil filled with nutrients, new occasions, but also awfully unfamiliar.

All you knew was that the moment you entered the room, you felt a punch in the guts. There were signs, everywhere, like claw marks spread across the room.

It wasn’t your bedroom anymore. It felt like a crime scene.

You stepped in it carefully, watching films unfold everywhere. It was a call for disaster.

Scenes started unfurling in your head, old ghosts coming for you, crawling like fog from pictures, dried flowers, books—

“Dad.”

“Yeah?”

“May I take the guest room?”

Your father felt silence capture his mind. “Sure thing, my flower.”

Once in the pristine room, you laid your suitcase on the floor. “Your things will be arriving in a few days,” your dad announced. “Just tell me where you want me to put those.”

You were still too unsettled to choose. “I’ll tell you as soon as I know.”

He nodded. “I don’t know what happened but—”

“Nothing.” And it was true. Nothing had happened. That’s precisely how everything had come undone.

“He’s—”

“I’m sorry, dad, but the trip was long and I’d like to rest,” you admitted, energies drained.

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s nothing,” you repeated, already opening your case and finding your pyjamas.

“Would you like me to keep you company?” He asked, lifting the sheets to get the bed ready.

“Don’t you have work to do?” you asked with a knowing smile.

“I’ll bring my laptop. I know the sound of typing relaxes you. You’re still my daughter.”

You smiled and nodded. “That I am.”

“It’s good to know you’re back,” Swan gave you a warm look and you felt infinitely better. Four friends, a few bottles of soju and the heavy smell of roasted pork meat was the best feeling in the world.

“Hard times, I tell you.”

Candy looked at you fondly from the other side of the table. It was truly good to have you back. Maybe some old balances would be refound — maybe the guys would find again the two pieces they lost the day you left. She was hopeful all at once, forgetting about how hopeless her situation was.

“I still can’t believe you pulled that trick on all of us,” Peach added. “Out of the blue. Puff, you were gone. And now puff, you’re here!” She laughed cheerfully. “You missed out so much.”

“Like what?” You asked with a mischievous grin.

“First. Taehyung became a heartthrob.”

“A what?” You exclaimed, remembering only the sweet face of a seventeen year old with ruffled hair.

“A heartthrob. A gentleman. A Casanova. A ladies’ man. And what a man,” Peach commented, wide eyed and swooning.

Candy wheezed and shook her head. “Come on, it’s not like that…”

“Our Taehyungie?” You asked, almost pouting at Swan, giving her a questioning look.

She blushed to her ears, looking at the other woman with mild discomfort in her eyes. “He’s a very good looking young man. You and I both know he isn’t difficult to love.”

Swan admitted.

“Well, if he takes after his brother… By the way, the female population of Seoul would like to offer you their gratitude and give you an honorary medal,” Peach hinted, making you look down with a blush on your cheeks.

“I didn’t do much—”

“You trained a beast!” She remarked.

“Peach,” Candy hissed with a concerned stare.

“Hey, don’t worry,” you reassured her, touching her forearm. Your conversation with Peach about Namjoon was very old business. She had slept with him and you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind one bit. It was just the umpteenth demonstration that you had lost all feelings for him.

“You don’t want to know about him?” Peach asked, trying to insinuate doubt in your mind.

You ceased. “How is he.”

“Rich as filth. Successful like no man his age. But cold to the bone.”

Swan looked away just as Candy pursed her lips. She was not okay with how you looked. She felt like she was still failing you, somehow; which of course wasn’t true. Your faith in Candy was unbreakable.

“He keeps binging on girls and alcohol. But he’s a ghost, babe. A hot ghost though, I’m not going to lie about that.” Peach explained, knowing that there was no reason to butter things up with you. “I can’t believe you kept up with him.”

Candy would have snapped if she didn’t know she could trust Peach, that the two of you had your own terms and agreements to talk about Namjoon.

Your smile was bitter. “We were just dumb kids.” But you’d been the dumbest of the two.

All about the night unsettled you. The crowd walking through the corridors, the white walls and the pretentious paintings, the stupid artists wearing stupid clothes that were supposed to give them a certain 'je-ne-sais-quoi', as some of them called it with their preposterous accents and ignorant mannerisms.

Fortunately, you had found the ones you actually appreciated, taking your time talking to them while they greeted your mother, glittering at your arm like a precious jewel, while you stood at her side gently and shyly, clad in pastel tones and a watery scent. It was nothing like the heavy perfumes most of the ladies were wearing, mixing in the room and creating a cloud of disturbing, clashing fragrances.

You were getting a headache. Still you stood at your mother's side, faithful as your role required you to be, avoiding the several questions about your mysterious disappearance and your prodigious return.

The night was like too many before, too suitable for hard reminiscing and crying yourself to sleep.

You remembered when the same night had felt like champagne bubbles nine years ago, bare feet on the grass and sticky hair and pants echoing across the wooden walls of the boathouse.

You stared at the painting in front of you as tears welled up in your eyes. At least it was a painting you could genuinely feel emotional about.

With cold determination, you rebuilt yourself. Like you would need to do a million more times.

⫷ ⁛ ⫸

Namjoon liked this sort of gatherings. They were the easiest.

Lots of beautiful women, lots of wine, lots of chances to show off his flawless social skills and charm dreamy, naive girls through his knowledge of art and his relationships with artists. He didn't even need to show his wealth: the Rolex at his wrist did that for him and, in case he needed extra support, he would introduce the girl to the artists he had commissioned a piece or two from.

However, tonight he would not play that game. Tonight he would be his mother's chaperon, make her proud with a dimpled grin, gentle, impeccable manners and a strict no-alcohol rule. He would smile, make conversation when invited to and redeem himself from the heart breaker, womaniser image he had made for himself.

And everything went according to plan before he spotted a leggy little thing across the room, nape and shoulders invitingly exposed, her dress so simple and delicate that Namjoon knew only a stunner would feel comfortable wearing such a plain thing to an event so important.

Mrs Kim immediately noticed her child's attention shifting, subtly changing the direction of her path as she continued to observe the pictures.

Namjoon looked at his mother with a suspicious glance before she grinned at him with that familiar smile that was just like his own.

“Mother.”

“My treasure.”

“I believe this is not the correct order of exhibition.”

“I believe you are mistaken,” she parroted him jokingly. “There is no order of exhibition.”

Namjoon gave her a small smile before continuing his sonly duties, doing so impeccably until a familiar whiff caught his nose.

He grew more attentive, closing his eyes as vision interfered with his sense of smell. That was it. The chances of the perfume being anything but his most prized one were too slim. At the same time, the chances of it belonging to one of the old ladies were too high, although he assumed no one would dare wear it before the creator's wife, especially knowing the meaning it carried.

A sick part of him wished it was the plain stunner. It seemed to suit her, conceptually. His brain was already thinking how easy it would be to pretend.

He disgusted himself for a second, but it passed quickly.

“Eunyeong?” His mother addressed the older woman at the Stunner’s side.

Namjoon felt himself die and be reborn in a millisecond. It gave his soul whiplash.

That name meant only one thing.

“Oh, my prayers! The Princess has returned?” His mother exclaimed before joining her hands before her stomach, excitement overwhelming her.

The plain stunner bent deeply. “Hello, auntie.”

Namjoon's veins iced over. He was not alive anymore. Could he be getting a stroke? He felt his left arm tickling before his mother tugged him down in a bow to Cho EunYeong. “Such a special circumstance! Namjoon, aren't you glad?”

He was glad. He was also extremely stupid, highly malfunctioning and infinitely unfortunate. Staring deep into your eyes, he spoke the only words he could muster. “Hello, Honey.”

The greeting felt old and unused on his tongue. He missed the way it used to roll off of it, the way it was second nature once to pronounce the word even when it was practically unneeded and unnecessary.

“Oh, come here, sweetie, let me hug you! Look at you, you're a stunning young woman, isn't she, Namjoon?” His mother spurred him on.

“She's always been a pretty girl. There was no way she would become any less,” he offered back coolly.

“Don't listen to him, darling, you're absolutely lovely, come here,” she exclaimed, hugging you, earning the envy of the other ladies in the room. It was clear you had a special friendship with the Kims, and the bond between such two powerful families was making everyone snobbish.

“You've been missed oh-so-dearly, Princess. I can't believe you never came back home in nine years.”

Apparently she was busy adding flowers to the garden, Namjoon thought harshly, forgetting about the poppy field he had made for himself — overpopulated and filled with extremely short lived blossoms.

“I was very busy, auntie. And I took a chance to spend time with the American branch of the family.”

Namjoon felt his chest cave.

You were so beautiful. You had always been, and he’d always fallen for it. He felt too young for the way his heart stopped and started beating twenty times faster, his whole chest fluttering with it. He breathed in slowly.

Lavender. Soothing, calming, slightly balsamic.

“Hello, Namjoon.”

It had been ages since your tongue had to wrap around the syllables of his name. It was painful and so familiar, like finally entering your home barefoot, but with shards of glass disseminated across the floor.

Namjoon didn’t accept the way excitement filled him, fireworks going off in his mind. What would he not give to touch you, to feel the sharpness of your jaw against his lips, to feel your hands on his chest, in his hair. He looked down, knowing just how easily you could still read him. He could read you just the same.

Truth is you had learnt to read together. You had been each other’s first experiment. You had been each other’s first everything, each other’s beginning. And now you were there, so close, so apart. And still the call was there, magnificent, like magnets, hands shaking with need, and a craving so primal it was hard not to answer.

He had become way more majestic and intimidating than once. The shy, soft guy that stood about a head taller than you now seemed to dominate the room, carrying himself so proudly and classily, like he owned the whole world and then some.

From what you had been told, he had each and every right to stroll around like a panther, sleek and lethal, but you didn’t allow much privilege to him: you knew he was still a scared kitten somewhere inside him. He had always had a talent for dissimulating just how much fear and insecurity he had in him.

Your eyes met his. “You’re back,” he said plainly.

“Apparently.”

The calm, warm smile you gave him made him remember too many things at once, like a supercut of eighteen years lived together, side by side, like the world would dissolve the moment the two of you would, like you were the center of the universe and its birth and its death. He could remember it in the cold light of the library, in the neon glittering effects of a club, under the verdant foliage of a summer afternoon, glimmering with water, your hair wet, your white dress sticking to your skin, and then under the grey winter skies, lips dry and broken with the cold, nose red, eyes excited at the first snowflakes falling.

He felt like a haunted house covered in blooming ivy. He had missed you.

You were right in front of him and he still missed you.

Etiquette told him he should stand at his mother’s side, like a pillar. Still, he was but a pillar of sand, eroded by your calm, cold abyss.

“May I be excused?” he said, not even waiting for his mother’s reply as he felt salt in his throat, his shirt and jacket too tight, his face too hot.

He found the closest door and headed for the garden.

“Please, excuse him. I believe you know the situation wasn’t easy on him,” Aeri, his mother, spoke softly, simply, making you suck at your lips, swallowing heavily before straightening your back, squaring up for whatever fight you had to face.

“There was no easy side to pick.”

“Maybe you could use some time to talk. Say all those unsaid words,” your mother suggested.

“I have said everything I could. The moment he’ll have something to say, I’ll wait with arms open. Now if you don’t mind, the punch looks very appealing. Mother?”

She shook her head. “Just go,” she encouraged you, waiting for you to turn before sending a stern look to her lifelong friend.

“I’m sorry, Eunyeong,” Namjoon’s mother gave an apologetic pucker of her lips.

“She’s still not there,” your mom replied drily. “I don’t know what happened. I’m still so confused. She refuses to talk, she avoids the subject like the plague and— I really don’t know. I’m so sorry about your son.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. He had all the tools to be more balanced. We already talked about this, Yeongah. Not her fault. Not his either. We just missed a bit in the equation. It doesn’t make sense to us, but apparently it does to them. Let’s just hope it will heal someday.”

Your mother nodded. “I don’t think it will.”

Aeri sadly had to agree.

⫷ ⁛ ⫸

The garden was relatively empty. You already knew why you were there. You knew it because you had walked down that path so many times in your head, the Japanese dome so inviting near the pond, among the maple trees. You already knew he would be there. Water and plants naturally called to his meditative self.

“You’re here,” you spoke softly, standing a few steps behind him while he leaned against the railing, elbows propped on it.

“I needed to think.”

You nodded, looking away, pacing back and forth. “What are you thinking about?”

“About the last nine years.”

You nodded. “I… I’m—”

You felt something snake in where body and soul become one. Nostalgia so deep it hurt.

“Don’t apologise. You chose your path. You thought about yourself.” He sniffled.

Your jaw clenched.

“I wish I’d been that smart.” He snickered, sarcastic and cold. “I had to play catch up for a bit. I guess we both know who won.”

“It’s not a matter of who suffered more or who became more successful,” you replied with a sneer. “It’s not a competition.”

“You only say that because you’re the winner, Honey. Thought you’d be smarter than that. I guess we really do become duller with age.”

You felt tears well in your eyes. “I guess you really became meaner. Don’t think I didn’t keep tags on you, mister Dorian Gray. Wicked and corrupted to the bone.”

“Did they also tell you about The Princess?”

You looked away. “No use to keep the dead living.”

“Was it your choice?” He asked, turning around, face drenched in tears.

He felt slightly relieved when he noticed you had matching wet lines down your face. “I can’t stand it anymore. I’m older. I’m different.”

“You’re wearing it tonight.”

“My mother insisted. She’s wearing The Queen. You still have The Knight.”

“It’s my place.” He swallowed, trying not to sob. It was too difficult. He gave up. “Let The Princess be, please.”

You shook your head. “Don’t let that haunt you. It’s the best for both of us.” You tried to fix your makeup.

“Have you forgotten it entirely? How it was?” His voice was like a quiet whisper of the wind.

You blinked rapidly. “Joonie—”

“Tell me you still remember how good it was to have each other.”

For a second you thought about lying, but lying to him would be lying to yourself. You found all your strength and nodded. “I remember everything.”

He looked at you, taking a small step towards you. “You do?”

You nodded as you felt your lip wobble. “That's why we need to let it go.”

He wanted to come back home. He had wanted to for so long. Hopeless and helpless, he strode towards you before wrapping his arms around you, holding you to him, his eyes rolling shut as relief swallowed him whole.

Lavender. Pitch black nights and starry skies. Comfort. Sleep.

You held him as you felt him inhale. “Namjoon,” you called, rubbing his back. “We have to go.”

“Just one more more minute. It's been nine years,” he whispered, feeling your body under his palms. “Why did you leave?”

“I needed to.” Still, it hadn't worked.

“How long will you stay here?” He asked, his eyes studying your face.

“I don't know yet. It depends on the plans. I don't have any so far.”

He stared into the void for a bit. “Aren't you going to work in the company?”

You shrugged. "Maybe.”

He felt you shiver. “We should go inside.”

You smiled timidly. “How's my make up?”

He took his kerchief from the pocket, painfully remembering how many times he had fixed your mascara for entirely different reasons. He dried your face, dabbing at it delicately. “Nice and pretty,” he said with a smile. “Let's go.”

You both knew you stood on precarious ground, and you also knew there was a pages-long list of reasons you should stay away from him; nevertheless, you had to admit you loved being back in his arms. Just like all his other women did.

Daydreaming about the fine man Kim Namjoon had become was turning into a daily activity you despised and slipped into on a daily basis.

Everytime you did think about him sweeping you off your feet, you calmed down by making a probably incomplete mental list of all the women he’d been with, even uttering their names out loud when the thoughts about him got you to blush and hyperventilate.

It was inevitable that through the summer you would meet again, during one of the several events your families expected you to attend.

The Kang Foundation event was just the first of many, your father and your mother unfortunately busy with your grandparents so that they had to send you alone, not even a chaperon at your side — which was already in itself a recipe named disaster, further magnified the moment Kim Namjoon appeared in deep blue slacks and a thin linen shirt with fine silver swirls embroidered all over it.

You doubted a man could look elegant and properly dressed for a soirée without a jacket on, still he managed to pull it off effortlessly.

The event was notoriously on the cocktail side rather than the formal one, mostly attended by the new generation of business people — and usually the most influential one. You eventually spotted some familiar faces here and there, with their warm smiles and cold composure. Eventually all faces turned towards you at some point or another. You simply arched your eyebrows and looked into the only eyes that held the kind of courage you wished you had.

Namjoon stood still, straight like a column, trying to be as strong as he needed you to be, watching you walk to the counter of the bar, ordering something as everyone stared at you, at your cute, puffy gingham dress, at the way your skin gleamed under the mild lights.

He could notice some gossipers already running to you; they would surely ask you about the time abroad — or more specifically, what had led you away, and what had brought you back. For a second, he considered rescuing you before realising you could perfectly handle it by yourself. Moreover, he reminded himself who you were.

She left you, Namjoon. Without telling you a word. Without texting. One moment she was there and three days later she was on a plane taking her eight time zones away. She didn’t answer your calls. She let you waste away. She left you alone. Hurt. With no one to count on. She broke your heart. Fuck her.

No. No fucking, he reminded himself.

Too late.

His brain was already half gone, careening into all those memories of lace and bliss, of laughs and moans and childish tickles. He was still attracted to you. He would always be, he realised.

Memories became more painful as he noticed you float around the room in your ethereal dress, stopping here and there to say hi to old classmates and potential future business associates. He felt a bit wilder when he noticed the little mother of pearl accessory in your hair.

And then his heart entirely exploded at the view of your necklace. The fine choker looked absolutely poised and refined around your throat, still he was far from not noticing the pendant right in the middle.

The tiny cherries dangled right over the hollow between your collarbones, and within a second he knew he wasn't yet entirely forgotten: he was too deep in your roots for you to spit him out and throw him away. No matter how hard you wanted to move on, there were so many pieces of him with you that you could never get rid of them all.

The gift had been a fickle, stupid one, yet that summer he had felt like he owed you. He wanted to give you way more expensive things. He wanted to confess and give you a ring, wait until you graduated from university to substitute it with an actual ring — an engagement one — and then with a thin golden band, a year or so later. A classy, chic ceremony with one hundred guests maximum. A honeymoon in Nicaragua. A pretty house with all the special kitchenware to make jams and cook all those strange dishes you loved so much.

The only thing he gave you was a cherry pendant, because it was your favourite fruit, he had told you — but actually, because even though you had gifted him your innocence, you would forever stay pure in his eyes. You would forever be the summer child he had fallen in love with, and the melancholic winter fairy he wished to keep warm when snow fell.

“Namjoon,” you called, approaching him, glad that you had someone you could actually count on.

“Honey,” he replied coolly, glad for the slight background noise while his heartbeat accelerated. You were still so painstakingly beautiful. He wanted to kneel and hug your legs and rest his face against your lap. He wanted to worship you but also bite you, kiss you, devour you until he was the only one who would have you.

“Would you lend me a minute?” you asked, pointing to the terrace.

He already started walking out without waiting for you to join.

“What brings you to this humble servant?” he asked half teasingly.

You chuckled. You had always appreciated his vocabulary and his skills in rhetoric. “Business.” You went straight to the bone, trying to keep yourself as far away from him as possible. Your whole brain was very aware of how dangerous this game could become.

He arched his eyebrows and stared into the skyline expanding all around the terrace. “Not a chance of emotions. They called you Princess, but dammit, you’re an ice queen, Honey.”

You clicked your tongue. “I’m just on an errand on my father’s account. He wanted to make sure he could keep counting on you for The Royal Garden. Just business, you know.”

Namjoon nodded, frowning before bringing a fist to his lips, pondering whether to attack or let it be. He chose the stinging solution. “You know, maybe your father is used to the inconsistent side of our generation. I’m steady, reliable. And when I’m going to drop out, I say it beforehand. I hand in a notice. I communicate. Negotiate. Do you know what that is, Honey?”

“In which language do you need me to define it,” you asked sarcastically, spitting venom right back at him as you rolled your eyes.

“Still impossible, I see. Some things never change,” he mused. He looked around as you leaned against the railing, right beside him. There was no one in the terrace, mostly due to the fact that nobody was interested in missing out on the alcohol or losing their seats or their chances at socialising.

“Do you negotiate with all the girls you fuck too?” you asked, refusing to let him go unpunished.

“Jealous?” he provoked you.

“Just wondering if you still lose it after two strokes.” Dangerous territory. Very dangerous.

“Maybe you should test your theory yourself,” he suggested, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

You chuckled. “I’m your typical easy prey. We can’t have that happening, Namjoon.”

His hand landed atop yours, his body turned towards you as his fingers traced a light line up, to your elbow. “Why not?” he mused. “Why not?” he asked again, his eyes locking with yours. His nose caught a whiff of your perfume. “For old times’ sake. Just to get it out of our system. I know you feel it just as I do.”

You closed your eyes. The featherlight touch of all those years ago had survived. You almost expected hard tugs and bruising grips from the man who was so used to taking everything he wanted; yet, he caressed you tenderly, like a devoted boy. “Joon. We’re older. Smarter.”

“Are we really?” His arm slid around your waist, gently inviting you closer. “We’ve seen just how many things haven’t changed at all. Just like the fact that you’re wearing my necklace tonight.”

You bit your lip. “I forgot it was yours. It was in my drawer after all.”

“Don’t act smart with me. You know what I mean,” he scolded you as he skilfully sandwiched your body between his own and the railing. “And even if you forgot about it, you’re still wearing The Princess.”

“I didn’t notice,” you mumbled. “I guess it’s just the dress.”

He snickered and dipped his face to the crook of your neck. “Is it really, Honey? Don’t lie to me,” he growled against the shell of your ear.

“The dress, I told you.”

Your brain was calling you an idiot. The wetness between your thighs was heartfeltly singing your praises. “Let’s shut your lying mouth.”

And like that his lips glued to yours needily.

He was all set on making you pay for it.

Make you pay for it all.

Hunger deep, visceral and unending devoured you both, dragging you under in an abyss of longing and desperation. You had missed it. You felt stupid but you had missed it, you had missed him and the feeling of his large palms around your waist, his chest underneath your fingers, his smooth, silk tongue claiming you endlessly with the laziest, most possessive strokes.

“Doesn't it feel good, Honey? Didn't you miss it?” he asked, almost making your thoughts emerge into reality. “I can still make you feel so good, uh?” He hid his face into the crook of your neck, body falling limp as he felt you engulf him further in your flowery embrace.

“You still turn me on so bad, Honey. You still smell so fucking divine,” he growled, grabbing your ass, making sure that not an inch of his need was lost on you. You could feel all of it. “Please, make me feel good, Honey. That's all I want.”

You wanted to hear him beg. But you also wanted to sate him and soothe him and finally cut this preternatural bond that held the two of you together.

“Say it. Say what you want. Beg for it. Make it worthy of my time. Worthy of the nine years we were apart. Of all the years to come. Make it grandiose. Magniloquent. Use those pretty words and that silver tongue of yours,” you seethed at him, his eyes already falling shut as your palm landed on his crotch, stroking him through his trousers. “I deserve to hear you beg, don't I?”

He pushed into you, pleasure getting too strong a hold of him. “Please. I'll beg. You smell so good, Honey. Just…” He groaned, feeling your hand grab his balls, massaging him just a tiny bit too aggressively.

In the meanwhile you tried looking around, just to make sure no one could catch the two of you in such an inappropriate situation; however, all that could be seen was a man standing in the corner of the terrace, looking at the skyline. You were barely visible behind him — only your legs appearing between his parted ones could give you away — and then again, you would simply pass as a couple making out or romancing in front of one of the most beautiful views of the city.

“Please. Just once, I wanna… I promise I'll make you feel so fine, Honey. Please,” Namjoon begged, so lovely you wished you could kiss his lips and comb his hair and have him in a bed to spoil him for hours, to properly get you out of his system, to fulfill all his wishes so you could finally move on and he could finally build his own life without the need to destroy himself.

Sometimes you thought he felt guilty for your departure, however you knew he was far from being that sensitive now. If he had been hurt, that was your fault. If he was a dickhead, that was entirely his fault.

Nevertheless, poor you, you were undoing the dickhead's belt, hand sliding into his trousers.

“Goodness, fuck, Honey, you're glorious, darling. Just there, babe. Keep doing that,” he murmured as he felt your fingers squeeze around him deliciously.

“Sorry, my hand is dry,” you murmured, sincerely apologetic, your other hand cupping his nape, stroking his hair, still clad in hairspray like all those nights you escaped formal meetings to get lost in each other's arms.

“Don't worry, Hon. It's okay, just keep going,” he purred, breathing heavily, completely uninterested in the fact that he would mess up his underwear and feel uncomfortable for the rest of the evening.

“Does it still feel good?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Better than the last time,” he managed to say before moaning softly. “Missed you so much,” he whispered, his hands diving underneath your dress, touching the bare back of your thighs. “I hate you so much for leaving. I hate you so fucking much, Honey.”

You knew how he felt. Because you felt just the same: you had missed him dearly, even though the man he was now was miles away from the one you used to love. And though you hated him and everything he had become, you still managed to feel the unsettling, vibrating feeling in your stomach and the calm relaxation he brought to your mind. He was the only one who could make you feel so calm, and though you felt a tornado of emotions all around you, you were in the serene eye of the storm. And there he was, standing right at your side, where he had always been before you tried to push him away.

As giggles erupted in the terrace, your quiet focus broke, the sudden presence of another couple making you stop. Mercifully, the music coming from the party was loud enough to cover Namjoon's sounds; however, the moment was now entirely ruined.

“Joon, we're not alone,” you warned him, trying to hide into him to escape prying eyes.

He exhaled, frustration clear in his voice. “They won't know.”

Still, you got out of your sinful predicament and tried to recompose yourself. “We should go inside.”

“Let's go to my place instead.”

You shook your head. “No, Joonie.”

He rolled his eyes. “We said to get out of each other's system. One more time! For old times' sake!” He hissed.

You shook your head, making sure that your hand wasn't actually dirty as you started thinking about the closest bathroom. “I think we should be smart enough to keep the distance.”

Namjoon shook his head. He had already begged once. It was more than enough. “Fine. Then, goodnight, I guess.”

“Goodnight, Namjoon.”

And just like that, you made your way to the restroom.

⫷ ⁛ ⫸

The rest of the evening was uneventful, your brain disconnected. You didn’t care anymore about the wetness between your legs, you didn’t care about the insecurity making its way into your reason, like a rattlesnake emitting a menacing buzz that killed all the noise in the room. You were lost and confused, standing in the outskirts of every social circle, glad for the half unknown faces surrounding you as a familiar linen shirt appeared at the opposite side of the room, almost as if you had summoned its bearer with your thoughts.

What you hadn’t summoned was the woman at his side, definitely too close to be a casual acquaintance, his hand too familiar with her large breasts, his lips too near to her ear while his eyes pinned yours in place, almost physically forcing you to watch as she giggled and grabbed his arm, turning to strategically slot it against the naked crevasse of her breasts.

You kept a stoic, indifferent expression, catching every detail, smiling at him as he smirked and arched an eyebrow cockily. You raised your champagne flûte at him in a congratulatory fashion before turning away.

They left a few minutes later.

You resisted twenty minutes before heading back home.

Entering your room, you stared at the carpet. On your earliest days abroad, your father had attempted to bring you back home by telling you about a drunken, sobbing Namjoon knocking at the door at three am, crawling upstairs to sleep in your room.

It was almost absurd to imagine his long legs balled up to fit underneath your covers.

You stared at your room some more, turning the light on and listening carefully to all the voices that called you.

A picture of you and him for your first public event. Another picture, this time of a baby you and a baby Namjoon sharing a bathtub, playing with rubber ducks, a pile of bubbles atop his head. He was playing magician while you lifted the ducks with your hands, as if he were making them levitate. Namjoon riding a bike while you classily sat in the back, your thighs placed across the small carrier instead of astride, your knees pressed together underneath the white sundress.

And then a way more intimate picture. It was half blurry, your body clad in frilly underwear and an oversized white shirt as you emerged from a pool at twilight.

You still remembered the smell of chlorine, how hot Namjoon’s chest had felt against your wet skin, the early June dawn way too cold for you to appreciate the five am dive.

It was the night after your last test. You had drunk champagne, eaten cake from wine glasses, stayed up all night doing stupid stuff, watching Friends, revisiting all your inside jokes, talking about the plans and dreams he was always too reluctant to share. And at dawn, when he feared the best night of his life was coming to an end, he had kissed you.

The picture had been taken a few seconds before the kiss, before he placed his phone down and walked to you and caught you in his arms and pressed his lips to yours.

It was all so far away now.

You turned your back to the picture, closed the lights and exited the room, shutting the door.

Pictures were all that was left of the Namjoon you had loved like the Moon.

Another stupid party.

More stupid people.

Exhausting strangers asking you about the future of your father’s firm. Whether you intended to stay or to go. If you already had valuable suitors.

You fixed your chiffon dress around you, making sure no one would step on the gown. You felt slightly naked under the sheer, sparkly organza of the loose jacket you wore to hide how revealing the top half of the dress was.

The garden party was overblown but pleasantly classy, as it had always been, women being futile and men being futile and vacuous.

Lanterns lit the way as you walked down the path to the main glasshouse the Kims had hired for the night. Your parents followed you, still you knew they would stay around for an hour or so, perform their social duties and head back home to their quiet.

You felt glad you recognised more people, your parents stopping by every now and then to greet some friends or business partners and reintroduce you to them; you rarely felt uncomfortable, especially under your father’s proud and loving gaze. You were almost glad to interact with the other guests a few times, especially with an art history teacher that regularly cooperated with the auction house that was part of the Kims’ business.

It was easy to stay distracted as long as your parents acted as gatekeepers; you felt safe when your dad courteously dismissed inappropriate, rude allusions and assumptions, and when he managed to serve eluding, vague replies that kept you just out of reach.

Your parents managed to extend their stay by half an hour, just enough to greet everyone, make small talk, and most importantly meet the hosts.

There stood your most recent nightmare.

Your smile to him was more a baring of teeth, a warning that your claws were out and all your weapons were on you.

“Hello.”

You rolled your eyes and went on, back straight and shoulders rolled back.

You were officially ready for a war.

You didn’t quite know what had furtherly set your ire aflame towards him; nevertheless, your hatred towards Namjoon had been renowned and strengthened.

Your eyes turned to his mother, your expression to her just as sweet as it had been sour to her eldest son.

“Hello, Princess!” She said, looking at you affectionately as you gave a small bow. “I can’t believe our most beautiful flower is walking among us tonight.”

You blushed and averted your gaze. “Your gaze is biased, auntie. How have you been doing?” you asked politely, engaging in a conversation that only felt uncomfortable when you were reminded of Namjoon standing close by, making similar small talk with your parents — especially your father.

“I hope Namjoon hasn’t been too hard on you. He told me the two of you talked,” she began, exhaling heavily once she felt her sentence had come to an end.

Curious how he had carefully selected which parts to tell her, ignoring the small detail about him asking you to tumble with him in his sheets and subsequently, promptly substituting you.

“Yes, we talked.”

She nodded, not entirely content as she noticed your neutral expression. “It will take time, but eventually you’ll manage to be close once more. It would make me immensely happy. Maybe he will find some peace with you again at his side.”

“I believe his tastes have changed.” Your reply was lapidary, your stare drifting away as you noticed an old friend. “Oh, I… I really have to go,” you said, not letting your godmother reply as you followed that half known face. “Tae?”

The man that looked at you was far from being your best friend’s little brother.

Beautiful.

You couldn’t find other words.

He looked so ineffably gracious and manly, so ethereal in his baby blue suit. “Princess!” he replied, greeting you with a hug and a smile. “Hi!” He squished you to him, completely oblivious to etiquette and all of that, your friendship too old and visceral to bother with skinship rules of any sort. “It’s been so long! You haven’t aged a day.”

“You’re all grown up instead,” you replied with a small laugh. You weren’t sure the opaqueness of his presence was due to maturity or some state of upsetting, but the way his gaze drifted away told you he was hiding something. “How are you doing?” You fixed your jacket around you and gave him a small, apprehensive smile. He was like the little brother you had never been given.

He tried to look happy, you noticed it, but the way his eyes fell to the lower left corner told you he was lying. “Oh, I’ve been really busy with my job lately. It keeps me occupied for sure,” he gave a mirthless smile. “What about you? I’ve heard about your dad releasing a new perfume after years. I can’t believe he went back to creating. Is the garden expanding?” he questioned, genuinely curious.

“No, not on my behalf at least,” you gave a gentle chuckle. “I heard you were given a new market. And I heard about your little acquisition recently!” You alluded to the news of him getting a quite prestigious flute.

“Oh,” his gaze turned sad. Infinitely sad. Misery fell upon him like a heavy cloak. “Yes. Yes. I was lucky.” You saw him shrink in size, his lithe body almost withering before you as his shoulders curved in.

“Is everything alright?” You placed your hand on his shoulder, your gaze apprehensive.

“Yes. I’m just… It was a stressful week, so I was hoping I could spend the weekend in a less straining environment.” His lips strained to a tired smile.

“If you want I can let them know you weren’t feeling well,” your hand caressed his hair, the styled look by now significantly dishevelled.

When his eyes opened, they were lined in silver. “Would you really?”

“Yes, Tae. You know you’re like a brother to me.”

He nodded and touched your shoulder. “Thank you.” His voice was too deep and too quiet to be heard.

“It’s okay. My number has changed but you know how to find me, right?”

He nodded, lips sucked in his mouth as he tried to hold himself together.

“Go,” you told him with a tender expression, watching him give a little bow before he strode away.

You stretched your neck when you felt a shadow hovering over you. The private niche in the back of the glasshouse was half in the dark. You were suddenly aware you wouldn’t get a way out tonight.

“Honey.”

You shook your head, psychologically squaring up before you turned. “Hey.”

“I saw my brother leave. What’s going on?”

You looked at him. “Surprisingly, you can’t recognise heartbreak when you see it. Keep an eye on him.”

You tried to slide through the small space between Namjoon’s frame and the green, vegetal walls encasing you in a way too small, way too intimate place.

There was no way anyone would stumble there. It was so blatantly made for lovers to be swayed: the niche made of concrete, the small bench, the plants concealing it from the main room. The darkness and the night did the rest.

“Honey,” he called again, this time grabbing your wrist.

“My parents will be looking for me.” Your reply was dry and cold.

“They have left. I told them I would have you sent home with our driver.”

You looked lost, your eyes wandering around, hoping to find a way out.

“Hey. What’s going on?” He noticed the alarm in your eyes.

You shook your head. “I’d like to be elsewhere.”

His breath stopped. He let go of your wrist. “Do you want to leave?”

He made it hard to want anything else but him, his touch, his reassuring closeness, the feeling of his breath running down your spine—

No. You had to be strong.

“I think I should go home.”

“Is it my fault?” His voice betrayed only a sliver of panic before he cleared it.

“No. Just me.”

He looked at the floor. “You'd leave me here, all alone?” When he looked up, he used the strongest weapon of his collection. His head still bent down, he looked at you from below his lashes, eyes glimmering and imploring.

Biting your tongue, you sat on the bench, getting a coy smile from him. He was still your favourite rollercoaster. “You should thank me.”

“Thank you, Honey,” he cooed, sitting at your side.

“Did you have fun with the girl from the party?” You looked away, sneakily announcing the matter of your warmongering mood.

“Which one?”

You rolled your eyes and stood up, his hands reaching your waist and pulling you to him. “I was joking, Honey, come on sweets.”

He wasn't joking and you knew it, still you let yourself fall on his lap, trying to triplicate your weight in an attempt to castrate him.

It worked only partially, causing him to hiss against your ear. “Were you jealous?”

You shook your head no, his hands still wrapped around your waist. “Of her? Why?” you acted indifferent.

“I thought about you all night,” he murmured in your ear. “Till dawn. And then some.”

“You know how it works, Joon.”

“How does it work for you, Honey?” he asked softly. “Is it still the same as before?”

You shook your head again, turning slightly so you sat across his thighs. “No. I would never let a man treat me the way you do with all those girls.”

He looked at the curve of your neck. He couldn't believe he had a thing for such a stupid detail. Maybe it was because of the sweet and soothing scent coming from it.

Even in the smell of damp soil and plants, he could feel it, bringing him to life. “You're not like the others. I would respect you.” I would love you, he thought, the cruelty of his situation making his brain halt. He couldn't think clearly.

“I think you lost the notion of respect a long time ago.” Your reply was curt, as polite as you could be at this point. “Do they all hope to redeem you? To save you?”

“They just come for what I have to offer.” His hands parted from your waist and started fidgeting with your jacket, toying with the hem.

“What can you offer?” Your eyes met his, sparks flying like two swords clashing together.

“Would you like a reminder?” His gaze was powerful and sultry. You knew you would never resist it in a million years.

You didn't expect him to kiss your shoulder as his eyes rolled shut. “I believe my memories are still pretty vivid.”

He bent forward, leaning his head closer to your neck. Your arm naturally snaked behind his shoulders, letting him close. He basked in the reprieve you were offering him; all the tension, the fear, the anger melted away. “You don’t know how much it soothes me,” he whispered, reaching closer to your chest, almost feeling like when he was allowed to rest his head on top of it, your skin naked, clammy and warm against his cheek. It felt like millennia ago. He took in your scent, which seemed to have a unique way to resonate with your personal perfume. “Promise me you’ll leave The Princess to me. At least that.”

You shook your head, looking around before doing — arguably — the most stupid thing in your life, twisting all the way till you could straddle his lap, his hands helping you shift your gown around you till he could run his fingertips on your naked thighs. “I’ll let you have me now if you give up on it,” you tried to bargain, looking at the top button of his shirt.

“What if I wanted both?” he replied, his hands undoing the buttons of your see-through jacket and prying it open so he could feel your chest bare against his face. Your heartbeat was wild and he grinned for it.

“You can’t always get what you want,” you hummed, smiling at him and slipping your fingers into the neckline of his shirt.

“But sometimes you do get what you need,” he paraphrased, hiking your skirt further up and looking into your eyes. “And I need you. Just once.”

You fought against your better judgement. As much as you needed a loyal man at your side, a steady and reliable partner, you also needed to have him one final time, once and for all, just to remind yourself he wasn’t at all extraordinary and you’d be able to find something way better with someone else. You could kill two birds with one stone: namely, Namjoon and the scent that would always take you back to him. “Give up The Princess.”

He took a pause.

And he nodded.

“Say it.”

Obediently, he stared into your eyes with ardent devotion. “I give up on The Princess.”

You smiled and started unbuckling his belt.

He tutted at it, without truly opposing. “Well, at least you could have brought me to a nice place, with a bed. You didn’t even offer me dinner.” His teasing lasted little as you licked your hand lewdly, sensually before bringing it between his legs, grabbing his half hard cock and pushing it out of his trousers and underwear.

“No need for dinner, you’ll get to feast on me, darling.”

For a second Namjoon genuinely thought he had you back. Grinning, he let his head fall back heavy against the concrete wall behind him, his hand held your waist, feeling you while he forced his eyes to open so he could take in your expression once you would lower yourself on him.

“Condom,” you ordered, harsh and unforgiving.

He looked at you like you had slapped him. “I always use it. It’s us. We can—”

“It’s not about you. This is about me. My safety. Give me a condom or get gone.”

He nodded and rummaged in the inner pocket of his jacket. It didn’t surprise you he had one on him.

You took the package from him, ripping it open easily and handing back the foil to him, quickly stretching the latex on him. “See, that didn’t kill you.”

He hummed and kissed your chest, nuzzling against it. There had been a time when he could enter you naked and feel you warm and tight and so welcoming around him. He tried to nuzzle closer for the intimacy and privilege he had once had but now no longer.

Meanwhile, you tried to use his dick to push your panties aside, twice as happy for the loose fit that kept you fresh on the humid summer night. You didn’t waste any time, getting his tip inside straight away.

“Careful, Honey,” he whined. “Stretch, sweetie.” Goodness, you were so eager, so needy and so determined. He felt like he was dreaming.

You were wet, drenched, incredibly, unexpectedly so. “Joonie,” you called, hoping to give him what he wanted once and for all.

“Oh, damn. Baby — God!” He grunted as you sunk on him to the base. “Honey, fuck. Yes.”

“My game still good?” you murmured with a chuckle, your hips beginning to twirl on him.

He nodded, bringing himself to open his eyes to study the vision of you riding him, eyes barely open, lower lip caught between your teeth, breasts moving gently in a barely-there bounce as your heavy breathing and the up-and-down motion started to mix. He stretched to touch his lips with yours. “Your game is fucking phenomenal, Honey. Always been,” he said before biting your lip himself, causing you to moan as he sucked it into his mouth.

As he grew increasingly busy with the movements, swirls and twirls and strokes mixing together, he tried to play his trick. “Stop this idiocy with The Princess.”

You kept going for a couple seconds before processing his request. “No.”

He gripped your ass punishingly. “It's a dumb move. Fucking stupid.”

You tutted and pushed him away from your face, depriving him of your lips and kisses. “The Princess is dead.”

He fought you, strong enough to bring you to him, shushing you by swallowing your lips, suddenly completely possessed by his as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

You let him.

Even if you wanted to shut him out, he had a passepartout to your body. It would always unlock for him.

“She is very much alive,” he murmured, pressing his mouth below your ear. “She's here. Eager to be fucked. Like all those years ago.”

You shook your head and gripped his shoulders, jacket shoved aside, his crisp white shirt creasing under your grasp. “You should be thanking me.”

Namjoon felt your sweet scent linger on your neck and float all the way to his nostrils.

He pushed into you from below, feeling the smooth ease of slipping inside you. “I'd thank you if you stayed quiet, you're going to get us caught.”

“It's not like you're super quiet,” you replied, grabbing his face and pulling him away. Still he resisted you, stubbornly diving back for your neck.

He couldn't stay quiet. He couldn’t give a damn about getting caught: you were the only woman he wanted to be in a scandal with, letting everyone associate you to him, your names tied together for anyone who read those dumb magazines. If he couldn’t get you to have his surname, he might as well claim you through gossip and rumors.

But right now his priority was getting you to talk, even if you spit poison all over him, he would make you talk, maybe even snicker, maybe even laugh.

He missed your laughter.

He missed the sound hitting the crook of his shoulder, the small giggles, the light breathlessness that followed. He missed it like air, like redemption, like peace.

He was a man starved.

So he banqueted.

His hands gripped your ass tighter while his mouth pressed against your neck to try and shut himself up while his thrusts became faster, needier, almost as if he were trying to hide into you.

You were a stupid woman.

You held him closer, offering him your sweet embrace as bliss finally caught him and swept him away, your mind too caught up in cruel reality to follow him.

All you could do was hold him to you and wait for him to be done. Soon hostility and regret would come, so you simply hugged him tighter and waited for the end.

His hair was covered in hairspray, holding it perfectly still, like the night of your mother's gala all those years ago, running to the boat house, giggling in the dark, hiding under the sheets as he kissed your breasts and murmured name of pretentious paintings on his way down.

You were far from heaven still.

Maybe farther now.

Namjoon allowed himself to press just one kiss below your jaw, murmuring a 'thank you' before he slipped out. You un-straddled him and allowed him some space to slip off the condom, tie it up and wrap it haphazardly in its foil.

“The Princess is all yours to kill.” He tucked himself back and tried to muster some nerves. “I'll go first,” he whispered before recomposing the perfect gentleman image, walking to a small basin nearby and opening the tap, washing his hands. He didn’t even turn before he spoke. “Can't you say something?”

“Just go.”

He averted his gaze, looking at his hands as he dried them. They were so dirty.

He allowed himself to stare at you just one more time before leaving the alcove.

Once he was far enough, you allowed yourself to cry. Only for a minute, you told yourself.

You cried for the boy you had loved, and that you probably loved still, hiding far away from the man he had become. You cried for the princess, for the home you had dreamed with him, for all the years together, for all the stupid plans and expectations.

Lastly, you cried for yourself, for what you had hoped to become at his side.

Ready to nurse your tears induced headache — or rather, outdo it — you headed for the bar, hoping to emanate as many hostile vibes as you could so no one would approach you.

You didn’t count on hostility made person to approach you with a glass in hand.

“You look like you could use a drink,” the quiet distinguished rascal spoke.

You smiled. “I hope you spiced it and are gonna drag me home afterwards.”

The woman grinned like the devil. “I wouldn't need to spice it, Princess.”

“Right back at you, Candy. Looks like you’re already deep in the party,” you assumed out loud, looking at her flushed cheeks and nose.

“A girl gotta have distractions. And in terms of proportions your distraction needs to be humongous. Maybe thrice the usual,” she said before looking right behind you.

“Am I gonna see the lame beginning of a threesome right behind me?” You asked, downing the glass in a go before looking over your shoulder.

You couldn’t even be surprised by what you saw: Namjoon, looking like a god, freshly fucked, with that laid back, sexy allure all over him. You couldn’t blame the three girls around him, hoping to get his undivided attention, trying to touch him, or to be touched as he gracefully gesticulated.

“Fuck, you could have said they were three. Foursome it is,” you sneered before cocking an eyebrow. You would never even remotely consider such a thing.

“I said: thrice the usual. I’m half drunk, I can’t maths, Princess,” Candy threw an arm around your shoulders. “Choose your weapon.”

“Whisky?”

She nodded. “If it were me I’d pick the brunette,” she commented staring behind you. “She looks subby as fuck.”

You were glad for the laugh she got out of you.

“Which one would you go for?”

You gave a look at the three of them. “The small one with blonde hair. She seems sweet. Now please, let’s get rip roaring drunk.”

Candy bowed deeply, almost losing balance as you caught her, making the two of you explode in giggles. “My pleasure.”

Turning around, you smiled at Namjoon and waved.

From tonight, he was just a memory.

And from tomorrow, The Princess will be free to disappear.

From the moment Namjoon’s eyes met yours, he immediately recognised fear, insecurity and worry.

“Honey.”

He hadn’t seen you for a whole month. One entire month.

The day after your hookup at his party, he had sent a formal email to your father, and to you as a carbon copy, where he formally gave up on his claims on The Princess, confirming that he indeed was okay with the production to be discontinued without it impacting on his participation in The Royal Garden.

Namjoon had managed to resist for four whole days with unscented sheets before he sent his assistant, his driver and his cleaning lady to raid the city for any single item scented as The Princess. Maybe he could accumulate just enough for the collection to last a few years. Maybe he could convince your father to keep making at least the fabric wash just for his personal use.

Nevertheless, he was desperate. And as more and more time passed since your last encounter, the more he felt hollow. After that night, for some reason or another, he could no longer feel the need to get lost in other girls.

He wanted to be alone, because that night reminded him exactly why he drank himself to a stupor on Jackson’s birthday the first time he had sex with someone who wasn’t you. And even that night in the greenhouse, it was far from what it used to be. He had got his pleasure and got rid of you. It was nothing but a transaction — he didn’t owe you love or bliss or feelings.

The Princess for one last chance at a temporary heaven.

And now he knew that it had been the last chance indeed.

You were afraid of him and in a few seconds he perfectly understood why.

A hand appeared at your waist, holding it with surety and affection.

“Hi there, I’m Christopher, nice to meet you!”

Namjoon’s eyes scanned the stranger quickly.

He wasn’t a stranger at all. He was simply the heir to one of Seoul’s most influential plastic surgery clinics. Namjoon knew him because after all, most of the girls he had dated had somehow a connection with that place — or at least, the wealthiest ones.

The man was tall, muscular and disturbingly kind. He had a pretty face.

A handsome face.

Dimpled one.

Maybe one of the prestigious doctors there had worked their magic on him too.

Namjoon kept studying him as he introduced himself, Christopher being incredibly polite right from the start even though Namjoon acted laconic and stern. The young man fit you. He was genuinely courteous to you — though a bit handsy.

Namjoon thought that he would have been the very same had he been in the other’s shoes. He also thought that he could never compete with Christopher’s clean face and genuine ways. He looked so handsome and angelic.

Namjoon was anything but.

For the whole night, he kept interactions to a minimum, too busy observing the two of you. He seemed to reassure you just enough for you to be comfortable talking to strangers as his arm stayed around your shoulders, or draped respectfully around your waist, your pinkies locked together when you stood a bit more apart.

Namjoon wanted to act as your best friend. He really wanted to. He wanted to support you dating a good person who could assure you a solid future, a house, a family, who would spoil you and grant you financial safety. Unfortunately, he couldn’t be your best friend.

All he could see was how handsome the almost-stranger looked, how bright his smiles for you were, how polished he seemed — and how ugly and rotten Namjoon felt.

No wonder you hadn’t come back for him. You had something better — someone better.

He tortured himself with questions like how long the two of you had been dating, how much intimacy you had allowed him, if you had kissed yet, if he’d tested the smoothness of your hair, the warmth and tenderness of your skin… of your flesh.

As soon as Christopher was busy with one of his friends you asked to be excused. You really needed to talk to Namjoon and clear a few things up.

You actually just wanted his approval.

You found it absurd that after all these years you still needed his opinion before taking a decision.

You found him lingering by the balcony and quickly asked him to accompany you outside; you wanted away from the crowd, where you could talk without having to shout to each other.

“Hey,” you began, leaning against the wall.

“Hi.” His reply was tense.

“How is it going?”

He shrugged. “Not my ideal type of night.”

You could only imagine what his ideal night looked like. You thought of three girls, a jacuzzi and a light buzz.

He actually meant curled up on a sofa with you, a cosy, handmade woolen blanket thrown over the two of you, a fire crackling quietly from the fireplace while he read a book and you napped on top of him.

“What do you think of Chris?” you asked, no longer capable of holding back your insecurities.

“Nice dude. Polite. Good looking. Sweet. Rich. He has it all, hasn’t he?” His reply would be almost reassuring if it weren’t for the vitriolic undertone.

“Namjoon.”

He inhaled and leaned against the wall right at your side. “Sorry. He really seems like an excellent person. And he looks very considerate.” He looked down. “That doesn’t mean I’m not surprised.” His jaw clenched. “What happened to us, Honey? Once you would have told me the second he texted you.”

The back of his hand brushed against yours. “I know. I wished we could go back sometimes, but there’s just so much distance from then to now. And from what we used to be to what we are. We’re not safe for each other, Joonie.”

He nodded. “Has he kissed you yet?”

You hesitated, “Mh.”

Again, he nodded. “Is he a good kisser?”

“A decent one. There’s room for improvement.”

“You deserved to be kissed excellently.” Namjoon looked in the distance. “You’re an excellent kisser. I’m sure you’ll train him well.”

You chuckled. “I had a good teacher. Plenty of practice.”

His laughter mixed with yours. “Plenty of plenties.”

“In another life—”

Namjoon had to interrupt you. He couldn’t stand the thought of that sentence being completed. “So, did you interrupt The Princess already?” he asked, babbling out the first thing he could come up with.

You inhaled and leaned your head against his shoulder. It felt so natural you could cry. “I know you’ve been hoarding a small fortune in The Princess’ products.”

Namjoon snickered. “Who told you?”

“Your mom told my mom. Who told me.”

“They still want us to be friends.” Namjoon moved his arm so that he could cup the back of your head.

You closed your eyes and felt how familiar it still was to you. Nothing could ever feel like that, no matter how right and proper Christopher felt — with him everything sounded and looked clumsy, uncomfortable, a bit made up. You already knew in whose arms you were meant to be. You stopped yourself from imagining.

“Don’t you have anyone, Joonie? What about the guys? Candy? Tae? How haven’t you found a girl yet? You’re such an excellent candidate! Sure, you might have a bit of history going around, but hey, that adds to the charms.” You hid your face from him. You knew he could read you so easily and he wouldn’t dance around your lie.

If I’m an excellent candidate, then why haven’t you picked me? Namjoon ignored the thought. “You know how it works. I was raised on filet mignon and now I can only see breadsticks around me. They don’t sate me, Honey. They never do.”

“You just need to get used to the taste.”

He inhaled, holding in his breath, his emotions, every confession and every tear. “I don’t want to.”

You didn’t let him dwell on the topic. “You can’t give me what I need. We know it. And I can’t give you what you need, either.”

“What is it that you want?” He chuckled. “You’ve never known it. For your entire life, you’ve never known.”

“Marriage. Family. Children. A dog.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “The same girl who left everything for education and ambition wants to be a lowly housewife? Come on, Honey…”

You bit your lip, feeling ready to spit at him. How dare he speak about what you wanted when he’d literally set it all on fire till it was nothing but ash? You genuinely wanted those things. Once upon a time you had wanted them with him.

Fuck it, you still wanted them with him.

You loved him. You love him.

Actually, you loved the boy he used to be.

“I need to go.” Your reply was icy. “And there’s nothing lowly in being a housewife.”

“Honey,” he begged, regretting his words immediately.

“No.”

“Please,” he whispered, and you hated him, you hated him with everything you could find within you.

Yet your heart could never come to even remotely dislike him. Your mind despised him twice more just because of that.

Namjoon saw a tall man stand in the doorway.

And though all his wits told him not to, he did the most hurtful thing he could muster.

With his hand on your cheek, he bent down. His lips met yours.

Your first reaction was to shove your fists as hard as you could against his chest.

It wasn’t the first time.

It was just an old anthem. A dance the two of you could dance with your eyes closed and your hands tied in a burning room.

You fought. You made up. You kissed, you tumbled back into each other, you tangled up in each other’s arms and legs and hair and it was always so familiar and so passionate and so loving, no matter how much anger you put into it, bites becoming a way to claim rather than a way to hurt, hands gripping flesh, holding on, praying for the tide to wash out, away, to finally be unpossessed, only to come back for more because once you experience the fullness everything else feels a ridicule, desperate imitation, a surrogate that will never suffice or sate.

Your legs grew wobbly.

Namjoon held you.

He moaned.

You swallowed his sounds.

He gripped your waist.

You tugged at his hair.

You whimpered.

He growled.

It was like that and it would always be like that. There was no other way it could ever be.

“Sweetheart.”

There were ways it needed to become.

With a deep inhale, you parted from Namjoon and turned.

There, Christopher. So handsome. So confused.

So hurt.

“I— I think we should go.” Christopher’s voice was frayed.

“I think you can. Honey can choose for herself.”

“Let’s go,” you replied immediately, leaving Namjoon behind as Christopher reached for your hand.

Namjoon observed the scene. He felt his jaw flex and his eyes well up. He let just one tear roll down before drying it up.

The way he needed to hear you say you loved him — that you still love him…

However, that was the Prince, while he would forever be just a knight, standing on the sideline, reaching for the Moon.

There wasn’t much you could recall from your discussion with Christopher, still it was all you could think about as you headed to your next — and hopefully final — event that entailed Namjoon’s presence.

The yacht already felt disturbing from afar, even more disturbing than the paparazzi that had snapped pictures of you at the dock.

You rolled your shoulders, feeling like a boxer squaring up for the ring. Just one final stunt, one final trick and you’ll be done with this forever.

Moving from the taxi boat to the yacht was a complicated ordeal, finding yourself grateful that you hadn’t fallen into the cold, deep blue sea.

The music was already disturbing, and it got worse once it started mixing with the chit chat.

You had arrived late, and you planned on leaving early, your focus on finding Jungkook, wishing him a happy birthday, hanging out with Swan and Candy, faking a headache and finally up and leaving.

Of course your mission was infinitely more complicated.

Hyuna started chatting you up about your latest rumor with Namjoon, apparently forgetful of all her past foul plays, describing in detail what people had seen during the latest party, and the rumors about the soirée at the botanic garden. Next, she had the brilliant idea of asking about The Princess, what you intended to do with the family business and if Christopher was once again free territory.

Your patience already running thin, you stumbled upon the last conversation you hoped to ever testify.

“You finally got your hands on her, uh?”

“Of course. I want it, I got it. Fuck, she’s so needy. She never had enough!”

The laugh that followed made blood curdle in your veins.

“She got used to getting it nice and dirty, no wonder the pretty prince couldn’t do her right. No way he could keep her sated. She only wants me.” Namjoon’s cruel, acidic chuckle made you nauseous.

“You ruined another one, mate!”

You inhaled. You finally felt that bond snap as his words reached your ears. “Yeah, maybe he’s not happy I ruined her for him! Anyway, time to move on, maybe I’ll find the next one tonight. Or the next four, who knows!” His fake laugh didn’t make you feel anything. You felt too drained, like standing in the eye of a storm.

Without even knowing what you were doing, you walked to him, cold and rigid as a statue as you stood right before his eyes.

You wanted to be violent. You wanted to be aggressive because, after all, anger and violence and hate felt better than the quiet, the nothingness that overwhelmed you.

"I'm not your toy, you fucking bastard,” you whispered before you poured your drink down the front of his trousers.

From the look in his eyes, you could tell he was half hazy already. You felt disgusted by him, so deeply, so disturbingly. "I’m disappointed in you. I had one good thing and you took it from me, like you always do. That’s why you are despicable and unlovable. Enjoy your disgusting, lowly, miserable life."

You turned, placed your glass on a tray and made your way to the back of the yacht, your escape interrupted by the lack of a taxi.

The only way you could save yourself was finding a private room and praying the heavens you could hide there possibly forever.

Just as you tried to close the door, Namjoon tried to get in. “Honey?”

You shook your head. This time you had had enough. For real. “Get the fuck out.”

“Honey. Let me in,” he growled, grabbing the door and shoving it open, locking it behind him once he was in.

“Who the hell do you think you are? ‘No way he could keep her sated. She only wants me.’ You dumb fucker!” you growled, hurt, angry, shoving him away by his shoulders. Finally, you were exploding. “You asshole! Acting so fucking patronising. ‘Maybe he’s not happy I ruined her for him.’ You stupid, patronising, mysoginistic pig. You think it’s cool? To use women—”

“I have never used anyone. I’ve always been clear. No strings attached. They knew what they wanted—”

“You said you would respect me!” Tears started falling, Namjoon half furious and half terrified.

“Didn’t I?”

“Oh, yeah. ‘She’s so needy. She never had enough.’ You said it, Namjoon. Your words. Are those respectful?” you screeched, turning away from him. “I’m not your sex toy, you prick. I’m a human being—”

“Was I a human being to you when you fucked me to get the greenlight on cancelling The Princess? Didn’t you think about my emotions? No. You never do.”

“I was building something good, Namjoon. I was finally getting away from you and you ruined everything!”

“I ruined it? Me? No, no no, Honey. You did it, with your own hands. You came to me, time after time. And now you don’t need me anymore and you throw me away. How typical!” He pressed a fingertip against your chest. “You? You like calling the shots. You like saying yes and no and you like saying it’s someone else’s fault when you don’t like the consequences. And right now you’re saying it’s my fault you can’t be in a relationship when it’s you being fucked up.”

You bit your lip. You had always known there needed to be something wrong with you as you refused to love anyone but him. You hated him for stabbing you right in your weakest spot. “Oh, but you’re not fucked up? Mister ‘I sleep with girl after girl after girl because I can’t keep it in my pants’. You’re disgusting.”

“And you keep coming back to this disgusting man.” His words were dead quiet. “At least I know devotion. Faith. Trust. Love. I don’t abandon the people who love me.”

You looked into his eyes. There was so much pain. You didn’t let it get to you. “You have no right to pull the love card.”

“I do, you stupid, pathetic, self-righteous bitch, I’ve loved you since I was twelve. I didn’t know life without you. We’ve been together since the day you were born. You were my peace, the only one who could calm me down and listen to me. You were the only one I wanted to be loved by. I lived to make you smile. I bent over backwards to get your attention.” He swallowed, his eyebrows furrowing as tears started streaming down his face. “You were my sun. And my moon. And all of the stars. I’m so helplessly in love with you and it doesn't stop. It never stops.”

You leaned against the closest surface you could find, hoping to find something to keep you on your feet. He was just using words to manipulate you. There was no way he was true. “You don’t love people and say that shit.”

“You do once they stab you in the back. Wanna know how it went since you’re too dumb to see it? I loved you that summer, when I told you I had never slept with anyone because I wanted to do it with you. And I loved you when you fucked me and used me while I made love to you. I loved you when I first kissed you, I loved you when we ran from your mother’s gala and made love in the boathouse and when I kissed you by the lake at dawn, watching the sunrise. I loved you when you left your lakehouse out of the blue and I still loved you when you changed your phone number after you left the country. I loved you when I was drunk at three am, knocking at your parents’ door to sleep in your room, weeping like a baby curled up in your bed. I loved you every day after that, for nine years, with your perfume on my sheets because I missed you, I missed my home, my partner, my confidante, my lover, my peace, my biggest, wildest dream. I had no one but you to count on. You were my strength, Honey. You were the only one I could be weak and young and afraid with. You were my guardian. You were all I had. And you left me alone. And then you came back and fuck it! Fuck me! I wanted to hurt you. I wanted to break you like you had broken me. But I forgot I can’t hurt you because you’re a cold-hearted bitch who doesn’t give a shit about me!” He caught his breath after the long tirade.

“This doesn’t excuse the insulting things you said. The things you've done to me.”

Namjoon sneered. “You know I was angry. I am angry. And I hated seeing you with him. My whole soul hated it.”

You shook your head. “Don’t use that excuse on me. It’s a pattern. Wanna know my side of the story? The night before I left, at the boathouse — the one where you say you made love to me, I found you talking shit. Just like two minutes ago. You said I was just a boring ride. You told her you only did me because you wanted to keep the connection between our families.” Your world crumbled. “That night. At the boat house. You— You told her— You said I was a means to an end. That—” a sob left your lips, “—that you couldn’t wait for university to find someone less boring and plain and inexperienced and… and needy. You called ten thousand times after I left. I picked up, one night, only one time. And it was her. She sent me pictures of the two of you. Pictures of her, in your bed, you at her side.”

Namjoon didn't know what you were talking about. And then, the conversation dashed through his brain. “Honey. I was talking to Hyuna. She wanted to use you. To hurt you. She was going to hurt you so she could hurt me for not liking her back.”

“She was kissing you. I saw you!” you murmured through the tears. You didn’t even know when you had started crying.

“She kissed me and I was confused and I pushed her away,” he explained, the events so clear in his mind. He had felt so panicked that night. He only wanted to keep you safe.

“You slept with her, after I was gone.” You looked away. “She called me from your phone to say so. She sent me pictures. That's why I changed my number.”

Namjoon felt ice freeze in his veins.

“That's why you changed it?”

“I needed to stop letting you hurt me.” He seemed shattered. The last nine years of his life were suddenly being rewritten from another perspective.

“But you picked up the call that night?” He rubbed his face with his hands. Why, why that one time.

“I had realised I had to have misheard or misinterpreted the situation. Her voice from your phone told me just how much I hadn't. Maybe, after all, you liked her more. Maybe you wanted her.”

“I was drunk off my ass.” He confessed. “Because every time I got drunk, I could pretend they were you.”

You shook your head. “I cannot trust you anymore.”

Namjoon looked at your face. All of a sudden, he knew this fight wouldn't be like the previous one. There would be no return from this.

“All those lowly housewife dreams were exactly what I wanted with you. A husband, kids, a pretty house, a dog. It went all to hell! Fuck me, regretting not giving you a chance to talk it through, discuss, clarify. There’s nothing to clarify.”

Namjoon had frozen a couple sentences before. “A husband?”

You nodded. “I’ve always dreamed of marrying you. Living at the lakehouse. Having three kids and a golden retriever. And love you, only you, till I would be just dust in the wind.” You grimaced and shook your head, drying your face.

Namjoon inhaled painfully, his body feeling too heavy. He let go and slowly sat on the floor. He felt too unstable to stand. “That sounds beautiful, Honey. That sounds like a dream, love.”

You nodded, looking away, the first tear streaming down your face. You let that dream out, once and for all. It was time for it to fade. “I’ve dreamed about us for so long. And I went away because I was hurt and all the time I thought… I thought it was my fault. That I should have given you a chance to explain.”

Namjoon rose to his knees, placing his hand on your waist. His heart felt like a field of poppies. “You were hurt, love,” he murmured, stretching to touch your face before you kneeled in front of him. He didn’t care how much he’d suffered: he could have you back. Finally the equation had been solved. Your paths had crossed again, and he could hold you.

He could hold you.

How could he make you believe him? “That night was a drunken mistake. And earlier, I don’t know why I said those things. I was sour. I’m so sorry, love. I’m so sorry, Honey. But please, give me a chance. Just one. I love you, Honey. I love you so much that it hurts me. We can start from here. We can heal. Together.”

You knew he was an instinctive man, who spoke before thinking, hurt, damaged. But you also reminded yourself that it wasn’t your duty to fix him. The hope in his voice broke you, the look in his eyes, of trust, and love and admiration, of vulnerability and deep, bottomless faith was your undoing. One part of your brain reminded you that if he had started down that spiral of debauchery, it was all because of your silent, mysterious departure, and you refusing a confrontation. “I’m so sorry, Joonie. I apologise to you.” You said through gasps.

His voice spoke through a smile. “We’re here now. We can—”

You shook your head. “I cannot. I— You hurt me, Namjoon. And I don’t mean back then. I mean in the last three months. You’ve become a man I despise. Wholeheartedly. I desperately clung to the parts that made me hope for the boy I had known so deeply and fondly. But I have no hope left. You have disrespected me, used me, insulted me and acted against my well-being.”

Namjoon felt very cold. And then very hot, all at once. He shook his head. “Honey.”

“I kept coming back for you. And I used you too.” You tried to take a breath. “I recognise I abandoned you and hurt you, but that does not allow you to let yourself rot away. Nor speak of me in those terms. No amount of anger could ever excuse the hateful words you spoke against me.”

Namjoon started shaking his head, grabbing your hands, bringing them to his face. “I apologise with my whole heart, Honey. You know I’m not what you saw. I was just acting up, please. Please, stay at my side. Help me, please. I’ll be the man you’ve always dreamed me to be, Honey. I promise, love. I will change.”

“We’re a curse to each other. You will not change and we both know it.” You let yourself touch his face. He was crumbling, slowly.

He shook his head harder. “With you at my side I can do anything. Please.”

“I promise I will not come back this time. I will let you heal.”

He slammed his fist against the floor. “No. No, Honey. No.” He tugged at the collar of his shirt as he felt like he was suffocating. “Please stay. Haunt me. Please.” He bowed with his head to the floor, his hands on your knees. “Please,” he whispered tentatively around an earthquake of sobs.

“I know I’ll have to drink myself to a stupor to stomach this decision but I need to fix myself and you need to fix yourself, Joonie. We cannot keep playing this game of who hurts the other the most.”

“Don’t leave me,” he whimpered. “I need your help.”

From knowing how proud he was, you realised how desperate he must have been to ask for your assistance.

You stood up, only for him to wrap his arms around your lap, placing his head on your belly. “I will love you. Forever. And I’ll love only you.”

You caressed his hair. “You will find someone who can accept you for the man you are.”

“I still love you,” he spoke through wobbly lips. “I still want you.”

You took a long breath and detached yourself from him, exiting the room without looking back. Walking down the corridor, you snatched a bottle before entering a semi-dark room. You were ready to settle yourself before noticing a woman was already sitting on the loveseat in the corner, a small lamp lighting her glass. “Uhm, hi there? Are you okay?”

The woman vaguely startled, her eyes focusing on you. “Oh, hello. Yes, I’m fine, just taking a moment to myself. It’s a bit chaotic outside, don’t you think?” She looked confused.

You felt like she was calm and aloof enough that you could at least exchange a few words. Plus, being in front of a stranger somehow forced you to maintain some sort of composure. “Oh, I agree. Would you like to be on your own?” Maybe she wanted to be left alone?

The stranger’s eyes widened before she shook her head briskly. “No, that’s alright! I wouldn’t mind some company.”

You forced your lips into a tight line that could vaguely resemble a smile before taking a few steps closer to the sofa. Once you sat beside her, you were close enough to notice her facial features.“You’re Seokjin’s, aren’t you?”

The young woman tensed. “Depends what you mean by Seokjin’s, honestly.”

You grimaced as you realised how rude it must have sounded. Same old you, after all. “Sorry, I was being abrupt. I mean, I’ve seen you with Seokjin a few times? I recall?” You huffed out a stressed breath. “I might be mistaken, sorry.”

The woman seemed to read your neurotic laugh as a sign of stress and immediately looked apologetic. “Oh, there’s no need to apologise! Yes, I came with Seokjin tonight. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours by now. We caused quite the stir coming together.”

You bit your lower lip and shook your head. “I haven’t been in the rumor mill for a while. I hate those. Ran away from those a long time ago.” You eyed your bottle meditatively, noticing a set of glasses on the small table beside you, but avoiding them entirely. You simply decided to take a sip, scrunching your face at the burn of the alcohol — you’d never been a drinker. “Just people running their mouth ‘cause they’re too selfish to care about someone else’s wellbeing.”

The woman smirked and lifted her glass. “True that. Unfortunately, when you come to a highly publicised event such as tonight on the arm of your ex boss, people talk, point fingers, and stare at you for ‘seducing’ your boss. Absolute bullshit, in my opinion. Sorry, I tend to swear more when I drink.” She pressed her fingers to her lips, looking vaguely ashamed before you waved your hand.

“As you said, no need to apologise. My best friend swears a lot,” for a second you wondered when exactly Candy had replaced Namjoon under the ‘best friend’ label. Your brain was too hazy to think. “People should just mind their own business. Plus, from the way he looks at you, I don’t think there was much seducing to do. One look at him and any smart individual could tell he adores you.”

The other snorted. “Smart, you say? So you’re saying over three-quarters of the people on this oversized boat are dumb, huh?”

You grinned before you could voice your idea. “Money can’t buy neurons, apparently. I hate these places. So many dumb— no, not dumb. Just… Ignorant. They ignore everyone who doesn’t fit their stupid, fickle standards. And they’re up for conversation only when they want something out of you. But I’m digressing here,” you let the sentence fall before letting a small laugh out. Apparently, one third of the bottle had been enough to pick up your spirits.

Your friend — friend? — joined you in your chuckle. “They think money speaks for itself. Which, it does, but oftentimes it’s the opposite of what you think. Nothing says ‘I’m a right pompous git’ like fat wads of cash sealed up in the secret vault behind the not-so-subtle gilded book on great-great-great-great-great grandmother’s shelf. Speaking of money, that’s a very pretty outfit you have on. Don’t get me wrong — I’m greatly enjoying your company — but shouldn’t you be schmoozing? I know that’s what Seokjin came here to do.”

You frowned and took another sip. The heat in your veins felt welcome “Schmoozing,” irony possessed you. “I think I had my fill of social interactions until my funeral.” You paused for a second. “I guess I’m not good at that. I’ve never been, truly.”

The woman seemed happy to be given a chance to rant. “Now isn’t that a shame? I sincerely hope for your sake that you have someone on your side who won’t let anyone hurt you. If you’ll allow me to be somewhat candid, many people of your social status live to knock down anyone they deem unworthy of their stupid, fickle standards, as you so aptly put. You’re a rare gem, and it’s refreshing to know that there are still people in the upper echelons of society that have their head screwed on correctly.” She looked so elegant as she sipped her drink, nothing like your messy sucking at the bottle. She looked classier than people with a thousand times her money.

Suddenly, you trusted this unnamed woman. You trusted her enough to reveal fears you’d never voiced out loud. “Most people would say I’m the odd one out. That’s why I’m on the solitary side, I guess.” That was enough for now. “Anyway, what do you think, should we stay here until the ruckus dies down?”

The woman — did Seokjin call her Beauty in the group chat? — swirled her glass — wow, so classy, you thought, amused — and peered at the contents. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan. Seems like I’m fresh out of alcohol, though. Shame.” She pursed her lips in disappointment. “I need a lot more if I’m to stay on this oversized flotation device without going crazy.”

You laughed very loudly, a few snorts peppered in between, signalling that you were nearing hurricane drunk. “Lemme check.” Standing seemed a very complicated task, becoming even more challenging as you looked around the room. “Homo Expensivus keeps their stashes in selected locations, usually to optimise the obstentation of wealth… which leads me… Right… Here!” You sort of stumbled through the room, only to find a see-through cabinet where some bottles were kept. “I won!” you called with a giggle before crashing back on the sofa, gin bottle in hand.

“Great find! Princess, was it?”

You lifted your head and looked at her funny, startled by the nickname. “Yeah, I guess that’s one way to call me, yes,” your chuckle was gleeful, but awfully short lived as your voice slipped into sarcasm. “Did Seokjin tell you everything about how I ran away and broke his best friend’s heart?”

Beauty seemed unbothered as she calmly kept pouring a generous amount of gin into her glass. “Not in that many words, but yes, he did hint at it. Of course, if you’d rather not talk about it, that’s fine by me, too. Something tells me you didn’t sniff out which room I was in to talk to a near stranger,” she spoke, half sarcastically half drily, holding up the bottle to the light to peer at its contents, “so you must have been looking to escape from something or someone.”

You nodded. It seemed easy to explain to her. “Well, this boat is a ticking time bomb for past-me. Lots of people who’d like to see me out of the picture. And I guess his friends — or ex-friends? I don’t think he’s keeping up with them — would all love to have a very heartfelt talk about how I should have thought about him before I flew out of the country like a criminal, maybe drop a hint, or prepare him or them for the hurricane I would cause.” You huffed out, taking another sip. Halfway. “And now I broke his heart again — not that he didn’t deserve it because who basically calls their soulmate a kinky slut in front of everyone? Come on!” You accidentally swung your bottle very dangerously as you gesticulated, causing Beauty to lean away and hug her gin bottle to protect it.

“Well,” the other replied, placing the bottle firmly on the ground next to the sofa, out of danger, “you talked a lot about what his friends think. Which, I assure you, Seokjin does not blame you for, but what do your friends think? I’m sure Candy would have a few choice words for you if she heard you talking down about yourself, wouldn’t she?”

The way she looked at you made you hide your head between your shoulders, her inquisitorial glance disappearing as she grimaced at the taste of pure alcohol.

“I guess I haven’t really been thinking about that. It’s been hard to think since he came back into my life.” Do not get sad drunk. Do not... “But I don’t think it’ll be easier either now that he’s gone.”

Beauty seemed to notice your emotional difficulties. “H-hey, it’s gonna be alright. Do you…” She started looking around in a way that made your head ache. “Do you want to watch videos of Cookie? Candy’s puppy? I have a few that are pretty cute.”

Your reply was a loud, endeared ‘aw’. “I love Cookie, Yes, please?”

Beauty was endeared by your large sparkly eyes, grinning as she found a way to lighten your mood. “Here, I’ll send you Cookie’s private instagram page later,” she mumbled, scrolling through the picture. “Did you hear the story about Cookie’s name?”

Your heart warmed. That was your family. “Yeah, I kinda was on the phone with her when she chose it…” you mumbled, the conversation with Beauty flowing out easily, relaxedly. You didn’t even notice it was time for you to head home.

⫷ ⁛ ⫸

By the time the party was over, Namjoon had sobered up, found a change of clothes and made himself look decent again. He was sitting on the bench near where the taxi boat would moor in hope he could find you. The chases of you having already left were high, but he needed to be one hundred percent sure you weren't still on board. He was vaguely surprised to see you arrive haphazardly, your body leaning heavily against Seokjin's assistant as she accompanied you to a taxi boat.

“Hand her over, I’ll take her home,” he said, looking at you and Beauty in miserable conditions.

With the way your arms reached for him, Beauty did not hesitate leaving you to him, not without granting he wouldn't make a move on you. “I know your secrets, so don’t try anything with her.” Namjoon frowned confusedly at the slurred threat.

“One wrong move and you’re over.” she continued, slightly more clearly as she pointed a finger to his chest.

Namjoon arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me, I’ve taken care of her since she got drunk with champagne at sixteen.”

“Bang up job you’ve done taking care of her then, she’s been wobbling around drunk half the night on the verge of tears,” she hissed.

Beauty was right. Namjoon deserved a scolding. He deserved far worse. “I'll accompany her to her parents' house.”

The woman waved noncommittally to the taxi, dismissing him self-sufficiently.

“Beauty, do you want to come with us? Will you be okay?”

She seemed to be confused by the question. “I think I will.”

He fixed an arm around your waist, leading you safely on the taxi boat. “Come on, I’m driving you to your parents’.”

You shook your head. “Don’t let them see me like this,” you whined, slapping his chest as you tried to stand by yourself. He let you stumble and almost fall before he caught you.

“I have to drive you home, Honey,” he reminded you. “Your parents won’t be home. I promise.”

He watched you as your lip turned wobbly. “I don’t wanna be alone. I’m always so lonely. Why the hell did you change! We used to be so close!”

He bit his lip and shook his head. He thanked the heavens when the taxi boat docked to a quiet, empty side of the port, away from photographers and similar. He noticed his car and wrapped his arm tightly around your waist as he hurried towards it. He had never, ever seen you half that drunk. He stopped right before the car. “Honey, baby. Do you need to throw up, love?”

You shook your head and punched him relatively hard for the amount of alcohol in your blood. “Don’t call me that. Bastard!”

He gathered all his patience and opened the door, ushering* you in. “I’m so sorry, Milla,” he apologised to his assistant. “I will pay you extra, I’m so sorry. I am so, so sorry,” he repeated again, and he wanted to apologise to the whole universe, to his family, to your family, to you and all your shattered dreams and burned letters and dried flowers.

He felt miserable, but at least he could take care of you, even though he knew this would be the last time he would be able to.

“It’s okay,” Milla replied from the driver’s seat. “Is she okay?”

“We’re driving her home. She’s the princess,” he said dryly, sitting at your side and making you lean into him, holding you upright.

Milla’s eyes gleamed in surprise and understanding. “Tell me where to drive you.”

He gave her your address and held you close, looking for anything that could save his car were you to throw up.

Mercifully you made it to your house, Milla looking at Namjoon as you fought him about your passcode.

“We fought. She’s gonna hate me every day from tomorrow. I swear I have only good intentions,” he explained, Milla sweet-talking you into giving her the passcode, which she inserted quickly as Namjoon tried to keep you calm and standing.

“I’ll go, then,” Milla informed curtly, Namjoon nodding.

“You’re getting three extras. And dinner for you and Nara. Choose the place.”

She grinned and turned, giving a small wave before leaving.

“Honey. The stairs, love,” he murmured, picking you up and taking you upstairs. He naturally headed to your room.

“Not here!” you screeched.

“It’s your room.”

“Guest room. I hate my room. It’s not my room. Away!” you managed to use your legs as leverage to push yourself away from the door.

“You hate it?”

“I know you slept there. When I was gone. You’re everywhere. It hurts.” You whined. “Away. I want my pjs. Joonie. Pjs,” you ordered as he sat you on the bed in the guest room.

“Can you shower? By yourself?” he asked, kneeling and removing your shoes. “You need a shower—”

“I’m not feeling well,” you mumbled, just in time for him to grab the bin and place it under your mouth.

For the following half hour, he held your hair as you stayed bent over the toilet, letting out everything you had forced in. And every time it would subside, he would tear a piece of paper and clean your mouth, letting you rinse it before he'd grab a wet cloth and press it to your heated face, letting you rest your head against his chest, eyes closed while his arms held you. You allowed yourself to believe in it until the sickness subsided and you were left alone to wash yourself.

Soon he would become an exile, he realised. No longer your knight. No longer your prince. Just a stranger.

Once you reappeared, clad in a terry cloth pyjamas set, he managed to take one last look at you, eyes red and puffy with tears, hair wet, no makeup, knees weak.

Had he been a smarter man, a better man, you wouldn’t have been feeling miserable right then, and he would be your husband, your spouse by now, not only allowed, but even entitled to take care of you.

You settled underneath the sheets. “We’ll be strangers from tomorrow,” you said, and it sounded like all your love had been shut in a tomb forever. “Stay until I fall asleep for today.”

He nodded, sitting at your side on the bed and petting your hair. “I know it won’t change a thing, but I need you to know you’re the only one I’ve ever loved.”

You nodded with your eyes closed. “I wish you had loved yourself more while I was gone,” you grabbed his hand and kissed the back of his palm. “If I left, It’s also because I needed you to learn. I needed to make sure you could survive without me. At the beginning I was angry, but then I realised I wanted you to learn to fly with your own wings. You simply… fell.”

He dried a tear. “You were my wings.”

“An angel should never borrow wings, Joonie.”

Tagging: @thejooncrew @ggukkieland @luvaffaire @bluesharksandfish (sending this through dm since tag does not work)