You think one day of rest was enough since you can walk perfectly well now without wincing. So you wake earlier than Jimin the next day, marvelling at his features for a few moments but also fighting the urge to punch him out of giving you sleeping pills so you could oversleep and not come to work.
But now that you’ve reached the office, you feel nervous. You don’t know how to face Minhyuk. You don’t know if you could even face him.
Luckily, you don’t see him at all throughout the morning. During lunch however, when you return to the office, you see him first before he does yet he just brushes right pass you. You feel relieved yet you can’t shake off the strange feeling.
And your hunch turns out to be right when Minhyuk starts being mean from the next encounter and forward. He gets angry at you for the smallest of reasons. He doesn’t quite look at you when he gives order and when you ask him to clarify things, sometimes he would glare at you. It also doesn’t help that as you get more nervous you tend to make more mistakes.
Work feels even more exhausting when you’re mentally stressed at workplace. You come home with a headache that one night.
As soon as you prepared Jimin’s dinner, you hunt for some medicines and brings it with you as you head towards the room at the end of the hallway which you’ve somehow turned into your small office area (and your husband doesn’t seem to mind so-). You sit yourself on the sofa and shifts through the documents. The expenses report from several departments submitted during today’s meeting aren’t due for review until Friday yet Minhyuk says he wants to see it first thing next morning. You know he’s just doing it to get back at you and he’d probably ended up stacking the files on his table untouched just like the last task which means you’re doing this for naught anyway but you don’t want to give him any chance of finding your fault so here you are.
Your head feels like spinning so you quickly gulp down the medicine and force yourself to start on your work. Half an hour into it though, you don’t realize when you had fallen asleep.
You wake up next day in your own bed, perfectly tucked in while Jimin sleeps soundly next to you. You sit up almost immediately.
You look at the sleeping figure next to you, his snores are very light, you note.
Unknowingly, you inch closer to his side. You’ve always loved his smell. He just smells like... him.
You’re pretty sure he tucked you in last night. Why does he pretend to be so harsh all the time if he actually cares for you?
Maybe it isn’t impossible to build a civil relationship with him. With your husband.
You stare at his features. You can’t deny it. Jimin’s really good looking. And this good looking man is your husband. Sometimes you still have trouble believing.
Your eyes fall to his lips. His plump pink lips looks very tempting. You briefly wonder if-
Don’t fall for him.
And at that exact moment, Jimin’s eyes shot open while simultaneously his hand grips your right hand that hovers over his face seconds ago tightly. You freeze completely, not moving a muscle because you know he’s doing it out of reflex and you don’t want to dwell on how he’s trained for that.
His stare at you is murderous and your hand move to retreat but he kept his grip vice like on your wrist.
And you could feel the intensity slowly rising between the both of you.
You could’ve sworn his face inches closer to you and you panic instantly so you back away and sit up. Without wasting another breath, you get up and disappear into the shower.
You panic at your desk. In light of this morning’s incident, finding yourself in your bed instead of the sofa as well the tense moments with Jimin, you weren’t in the right state of mind so you completely forgot about the report Minhyuk asks you to handle yesterday.
You gather your courage to tell Irene first.
“Ah the sales reports?” She says and you nod. “Mr. Park already handed it to me first thing this morning when he arrived. I went to see Mina just now and handed the reports to Mr. Kim as well.”
O...kay. You definitely don’t expect that but you can’t help but sigh in relief. Did Jimin take it last night when he finds you in the small library room?
“Wait. If you brought the files home last night, how does Mr. Park have it?” Irene narrows her eyes at you.
Shoot. “Um- I forgot I didn’t- I mean, I just realized I didn’t bring it home at all. My head was really spinning last night and I thought I brought it home, turns out I didn’t.” You fake a smile. “Perhaps Mr. Park saw it on my table.”
Irene huffed at your answer, perhaps contemplating whether to believe you or not. She doesn’t say anything after that.
You’re at Mina’s table, discussing with her about updates on meetings with R&D team as requested by your husband when Kim Minhyuk appears from his office room, storming at you with a furious look.
“Miss Y/N, what on earth do you think you’re doing?” He shouts at you, making everyone at the office look up and you feel small immediately. “Are you even doing your job?”
“I’m sorry Mr. Kim-“
“This!” He pushes a document towards you and you look down to see the sales report yesterday.
“Is there something wrong-“
“You fucking tell me.” He snarls. “Tell me, how on earth did you organize this? I don’t understand a single thing. Did you even do it?”
You remain silent. Because he’s right. You didn’t do it. But how can you say that? What would you say to him? That your husband, the president, the CEO arranged the report?
“I honestly have no idea if you’re coming for work or you’re just fucking around.” He hisses.
You literally hear the gasps from your office mate.
You draw a breath, trying to calm yourself to face Minhyuk. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kim if you’re not satisfied but-“
“Mr. Park.” Someone says. Your stomach lurch instantly.
Both you and Minhyuk look up. Your lung drops when you sight your husband standing few metres away, his hands in his pocket.
“Jimin.” Minhyuk addresses your husband.
Jimin’s eyes are on you and you look down immediately. Anxiety starts filling you up. Is he going to shout at you too?
He crosses the distance and stops short before you and Minhyuk.
“Minhyuk.” Jimin nods at him. “Do you mind if I borrow.. my wife for a moment?”
Everyone in the room gasps including you.
You stare up at him, eyes wide in shock. He wasn’t looking at you, he was smiling at Minhyuk although you know it’s entirely a facade.
You eyes flicker to Minhyuk. His expression is priceless. You’ve never seen him in a state more shock, what with all his constant smirk or flirty expression.
“Y-your wife?” He stutters.
Jimin steps closer to you then place his hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him that earns another gasp around the room. “My wife,” he reconfirms. Then towards you, he smiles briefly before he pulls you with him and leaves you at your desk before you could say anything as he walks back towards his office.
You’ve no idea what to say.
Everyone knows you’re his wife now.
And you’ve never felt so guilty towards Jimin.
Irene had never been this loud before, you think.
“Like what on earth- I really wouldn’t know! Like you know, with the way he’s treating you or literally everyone with his cold personality. Oh well, I guess that explains his stares at you.”
You stare at her. “He.. stares.. at me?”
“He does! Quite a lot actually. Caught him on a few occasions. You probably won’t notice them but I have eyes of a hawk.” She winks at you.
“You’re sure he’s not doing it to everyone?”
“Hmm he kind of does actually.. But with you- I don’t know. The look is softer, I think.” Irene says fondly.
You shake your head. “You’re exaggerating.”
“No, I’m not.” She sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or anyone for that matter.”
You give her a small smile. “We wanted to keep it private. Don’t really wanna mix work.”
She nods at this. Then suddenly, her eyes widen at you then clasps your hand tightly. “Oh God! You really really have to forgive me.”
You frown. “You did something wrong?”
“Remember when you asked me about Clara Kim? Oh God- and I freaking told you she’s his girlfriend oh Lord- I’ve commited a huge sin, I know- and I’m so so sorry-“
You burst out laughing. She looks puzzled at first but then joins you. Then she turns serious. “But were you for real? You really don’t know who Clara Kim is?”
You bit your lips, unsure how to answer her. Then you slowly nod. “I don’t know.”
She looks at you in sympathy then leans down to whisper, “You think he’s cheating?”
You know he does. “No, I don’t think so. If he is, why would he let his wife be his secretary where she practically knows all his schedule?”
“Hmph. Makes sense, I guess.” She straightens herself then. “Okay. I’m going out to lunch. You coming?”
At that same moment, Jimin comes out. His eyes find you immediately. “Had your lunch?”
“I’m about to head out with Irene.”
“No- no Mr. Park. I forgot I actually had plans with my boyfriend. She’s all yours.” Irene says, already picking up her stuffs and standing.
You know she just made that up so you try as hard to give her the eye that you don’t wanna go for lunch with your husband now but she dashes off super quickly, leaving you with your husband.
“Come on.” He says.
You stand rooted to your spot, not budging. Jimin turns back to look at you. “I’m- I’m gonna have lunch with Mina.”
He glares at you and you almost want to cower but still holds your decision.
“Fine then.” He grunts then walks away. You heave a sigh of relief.
You don’t actually plan to have lunch with Mina. In fact, you don’t feel like going out at all. Instead, you sink back onto your chair. Your iPad in front of you flashes and you grab it instantly.
You feel your blood runs cold immediately upon seeing it.
You’re all over the news.
[REVEALED] Seoul’s most successful young CEO, Park Jimin’s wife identity revealed.
Mid this year, a large population of young women in South Korea had their hearts broken when arguably, Seoul’s most eligible bachelor, a young and good looking, successful CEO of the largest tech company, Park Jimin announced that he would be tying the knot with non-public figure woman, who’s identity remains closely kept secret.
But we finally know now who’s the girl that has stolen the heart of the heir to Parks Corporations. The woman is revealed to be __, 23 years old, currently working as secretary at Park Jimin’s own company, Bangtan Inc. It seems like the President wants to keep the wife close- much to the single ladies who’s working in the company’s heartbreak. The background of Park Jimin’s wife is yet to be known but whoever she may be, she must be reading a helluva of a prenup. Bagging South Korea’s allegedly most eligible bachelor, perhaps we can arrange a session to ask for a tip or two?
You wish the ground could swallow you whole.
Isn’t it illegal to be exposing informations of non public figure like this? Though you suppose the writer is trash anyway when he exposed your identity while clearly stating you’re a non public figure in the same line.
Wasn’t your marriage to Jimin suposed to be a secret and your identity kept hidden?
Yeah but then you yourself went to work at his company, gets harrassed that drive to the point of Jimin having to expose your relationship.
God. Both your index finger pressed each side of your temple tightly.
You’re contemplating whether you’re supposed to go back with Jimin so you decided to just go with him if he comes out of the office around the same time you’re off work but if he doesn’t then you’ll head home first and you desperately pray for the latter.
However, all hopes went down the drain when Jimin appears out of his room and only glares at you for a few seconds before you scramble to your feet and hastily packs your stuff.
And that’s how you find yourself walking timidly, very self conscious behind him as everyone stares at the two of you and you think it couldn’t get anymore embarassing at this.
Jimin is silent during the car ride. He busied himself with his iPad, leaving you fidgeting in the heavy silence. You decided to just man up and address the elephant in the room.
“J-Jimin..” you call softly. “I’m sorry it came down to this.. and now everyone knows you’re- I’m- um.. we’re-“
“Married.” He cuts you off.
You look up at him. He doesn’t look at you, his eyes still on his tab.
“We’re married.” He repeats. “Is that so hard to say?” He asks, finally looking at you.
“No- I me-“
“Nevermind.” He turns his gaze back to his tab and the conversation is over.
You don’t mean it that way but you just don’t want people looking down at him for marrying you, someone of no status and not even a decent upbringing background.
You play with the spoon on your hand, guilt still swallowing you whole. Drawing a breath, you look up at Jimin who’s drinking his glass of water. You’re both on the dining table, only sounds of cutleries can be heard.
“Jimin, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for all this to get exposed. I’m sorry.” You say softly.
His expression turns cold. “Are you?” He asks, looking straight at you with piercing eyes, making you recoil.
“What do you mean? I didn’t want this to happen either-“
“Yeah none of this would’ve happened if you just sit your ass at home, playing house or the perfect fucking wife.” He sneers. “Instead, you just have to work in my own fucking company, get yourself harrassed and left me with no choice.”
You want to answer him, that he’s being unfair because you didn’t ask to be harrassed but Jimin was raging so you stay muted.
“It’s dangerous, do you know that? Now everyone knows who my wife is and it’s fucking dangerous-“
“Why?” You cut him. “Tell me why it’s dangerous- Jimin who are you-“
He raises from his seat and leans down to you, face merely inches away and you swallow. “I’m a dangerous person darling.. I can snap your neck in two and you won’t see it coming.” He says as his fingers touch your neck, in an act that seems as if it’s caressing it but you know better. “And now that everyone knows who you are.. that means they can come and snap your neck too baby. But of course, you wouldn’t see it coming. And that’s what happens when you don’t listen to me. Not when I tell you to quit your fucking job, not ever.”
He raises again, standing upright before turning on his wheels and leaves you. You struggle to calm your erratic breath and nerves. And finally, you let the tears flow.
Taehyung prides himself on being a good roommate with excellent boundaries. So he should have followed the roommate cardinal rule: always knock before entering. And he would have, normally, he is unfailingly polite and always tries to be a good roommate. So he would have knocked and waited, should have, really. Especially if he knew Yoongi's boyfriend was over.
WARNINGS : THERES JUST WAY TOO MUCH FILTH HERE !!!!!!!!
A huge thank you for the banner to @helenazbmrskai
“You sure you don’t want to take that?” Yugyeom gave me a look as i rejected the call for the umpteenth time.
“Oh..uh... Yeah.” I shrugged it off feeling exhausted.
The whole point of going out with Jungkook was to take a break from one Jeon Jungkook but that was impossible..... with said vampire calling me every five minutes.
“So...anyways.... Mingyu was way out of line and I really wanted to apologize on behalf of the idiot. Although your bodyguard seems to have put the fear of God into him....Kid was trembling when he came home last night. “ Yugyeom chuckled.
I smiled weakly.
“Yeah...he tends to do that.” I said hoarsely.
Jungkook was the one topic I was hoping to avoid. Because having sex with him hadn’t scratched the itch the way I had thought it would.... It had merely amped my lust by a few hundred thousand times and I was ill equipped to handle it. I didn’t know what to do with myself around him and I was so fucking terrified I was going to do something awful;.
Like jump him in front of everyone.
So I’d spent the whole day trying to be aloof but it hadn’t worked very well.
Jungkook stuck close me , tossing lingering glances that made my skin heat up, , hands brushing mine way too often, eyes trained on me without any restraint
And don’t even get me started on the touching.
Hand brushing my waist when we turned a corner , fingers brushing my hair off my face when I had my hands full with the kids, an arm wrapped around my shoulder when Minhyuk had asked me out again.
And I’m not saying i didn’t love it because it felt like Christmas and my birthday had come together but.... but... I had a job to do. With kids.
It wasn’t the place to be fantasizing about how good your bodyguard’s cock had felt inside you.
“Jungkook right? Jeon Jungkook ....” Yugyeom said thoughtfully.
“Tall dude? Black hair? Looks way too intimidating and dresses like he’s just stepped off a runway?” Yugyeom prompted and I blinked.
“You know him?” I asked surprised.
Yugyeom shook his head.
“No, but I think he’s over by the bar and he’s looking at me like he wants to tear out my jugular.” He said casually.
My gaze snapped to the bar behind us and I felt my eyes widen in disbelief.
Jungkook stood leaning against the bar, eyes narrowed dangerously and I groaned.
So much for avoiding him.
“He looks pissed.” Yugyeom commented.
“I kinda ditched him.” I muttered.
“did you tell him , I’m a friend?”
“Don’t think it would have made much difference. Gimme a minute?” I whispered, and Yugyeom laughed, waving me off.
I stood up slowly , bracing myself for the interrogation I knew was coming, before turning around and walking over to him.
Jungkook’s eyes stayed trained on me as I made my way over and I felt my throat go dry at the sight of him. He hadn’t dressed for the place today, a black turtleneck and a black jacket and black slacks with a silver belt buckle. Hair tousled all over his forehead as he stared, unsmiling.
“Is this whole angel of death thing really necessary?” I whispered as soon as I reached him.” I’m sorry. I just needed to ...” stay away from you for a bit and last night was so amazing and i can’t stop thinking about it.
“ You couldn’t take a few minutes to tell me where you were going?” He asked casually and I swallowed.
“Jungkook, Yugyeom’s ...a good friend.” I muttered.
“How about you let me make that call?” He said coldly, eyes narrowed in annoyance and I felt chilled.
“I’m sorry... To be honest, I missed you. I’ve gotten used to you being around and I was going to cut the night short. I promise.”
‘Really? I don’t believe you. For someone who spent the better part of a month begging for my cock, the novelty seems to have worn off pretty fast for you.” He said casually.
My head snapped up , the words stunning me into silence.
I could only gape at him.
He gave me another lazy once over.
“And it made me wonder.....did I not fuck her good enough?”
I felt my face turn a flame red , my fingers going clammy.
“Jungkook, stop.” I whispered , glancing back at Yugyeom quickly. He was fiddling with his phone,
“What’s wrong? You need to head back? YOur boyfriend’s gonna be upset?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” I muttered.
“Right...he’s just the clown you wanted to suck off when you were younger...”
“God, what’s gotten into you?” I groaned.
“I don’t like being ignored. It’s a character flaw of mine.”
I gaped at him.
“I am not ignoring you.... I... I was out with a friend....It’s been less than an hour since I saw you... I literally spent the whole day with you.” I said shrilly.
“Really? Then why’d you not pick up when I called....?” He waved his phone and I flushed, looking away.
“Because I wanted an hour with an old friend....Without anyone interrupting.” I lied.
Because you’re driving me in sane and I need an hour without you around so I can get my friggin body under control before I get arrested for public indecency.
He clenched his jaw.
“I see. “ He reached for a glass of wine on the countertop in front of him and turned around. “ Here” He held it out for me.
I took the drink, suspicious.
“Go on , then.... I won’t interrupt...” He shrugged.
I nodded, relieved.
Turning around I made to move away.
“Thought you’d be interested in a little gift I got you.... but if you’d rather spend time with the clown... I get that.”
His voice was low and deep, a drawl that made the hair on my skin stand on end.
I turned back to him, eyes narrowed.
“What gift?” I demanded.
I felt my hackles rise.
“Are you sure.. what if that clown misunderstands... ...” he pointed a finger at my table and I glared at him.
“Stop calling him that , God..his name is yugyeom. “ I snapped.
Jungkook’s smile was positively feral.
“Don’t know .Don’t care. So, you want it? You sure ?” He asked casually.
i nodded, holding my hand out.
“Gimme .” I said quickly.
He shook his head.
“Can’t give it to your here, angel.”
I frowned , drawing my hand back.
“There’s a ladies room on the fifteenth floor. It’s being renovated ... no one goes there... Meet me there in five?”
I stared at him.
“There’s a firework show in half an hour. I don’t wanna miss it.” I protested.
Jungkook gave me a thoughtful smile.
“You wanna watch the fireworks?”
I nodded. “ Yugyeom booked it for me. I wanna see it.”
“Alright.. I’ll get you back in time for the fireworks.” He nodded, face frustratingly neutral.
“Okay..then .. and I’ll meet you there.”
“Can’t wait ...” He murmured softly.
The restroom on the fifteenth floor was deserted like he said and looked less like the ladies room and more like a luxurious parlor. The stalls were further in and the waiting space had beautifully upholstered couches and armchairs. Ornate mirrors hung on all the walls and I found Jungkook seated on one the couches, legs spread wide as he casually browsed his phone.
I stepped in carefully , shutting the door behind me.
Jungkook looked up at me, smiling.
“Lock the door.” He said casually and I hesitated.
“Jungkook, we shouldn’t be-”
“If you need to be at the firework show , you need to stop wasting time baby...” He said firmly.
I locked the door quickly, making sure it couldn’t be opened.
I turned back around and jumped when I ran right into Jungkook, who had crept up on me.
He smiled at me.
“Hi.” He said gently.
I felt myself melt .
“Hi.” I laughed.
“Don’t like it when you ignore me.” He muttered. bending low and nipping my jaw.
I grabbed his shoulders, knees weak.
“Uh... is this the gift...?” I gasped when he bit down hard, teeth sharp on the skin and he licked the little abrasion, wet and warm.
“Not really but I’ll get to it. Before that, “ He pulled away, “ I just realized I never got to eat you out yesterday.”
The gears in my head stopped spinning.
I could only stare at him, stunned/
“But, I like to be thorough and we don’t have that kind of time right now. So I’m just gonna ask you this.....Do You regret last night?”
What even...? I couldn’t keep track of his thought process.
“No.. no of course not...” I said harshly.
“You wanna keep doing this?” He tilted his head, eyes boring into mine.
Only for the rest of my life.
“Yes!!” I said angrily and he chuckled.
“Okay...but angel, I don’t like it when you run around doing as you please without letting me know what you’re up to. What you did today...” He shook his head. “ That doesn’t work for me.”
“I said I’m sorry.” I muttered.
“But are you?” He said thoughtfully.
“what..What does that mean...?”
“Apologies don’t mean shit if you don’t back them up with actions. I’m just saying... you ready to back up your words by doing as I say?” Is eyes flashed red.
“What do you want me to do. ?”
“Just don’t ignore me.” He shrugged.
“Okay...” i agreed at once.
“ You can do that?” He asked with a frown.
“I’m not so sure... I think you need a little help with that.”
“Jungkook , what are you even -”
“Go lie down on the couch for me. “
I stared at him.
“Hurry up baby, your boyfriend’s waiting upstairs remember? .” He grinned.
“Please stop calling him that...” I whined, moving to the wide couch in the corner and lying down after toeing off my shoes.
. Jungkook grabbed an armchair, dragging it close to the couch. He sat down , close enough to touch and I swallowed.
Jungkook shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it on the arm of the couch , near my feet.
He spread his legs and my eyes nearly popped out of my head when he began unbuckling his belt, dragging the leather out through the hoops before fiddling with the buttons on his fly.
“I was thinking of last night. Was your first time right angel?” He asked casually and I stared as I watched his hands. Long nimble fingers gripping the zipper of his slacks and yanking the metal down , revealing black briefs.
“Uh... I.. yes?” I felt my thighs clench in arousal, toes curling into the fabric of the couch.
“ I’ve been around enough women to know that I’m bigger than average. “ He sank his fingers into the his brief, hands curling around the hardened length of his arousal and I flushed when he pulled his cock out, hard and thick.
“Jungkook!” I whimpered, moving to scramble to my feel but he pressed a hand to my shoulder, pushing me back down.
“ Stay there angel.... Let me finish” He said sternly.
I pouted, not entirely sure if I liked this Jungkook. Where was the sweet man who wanted to let me call the shots?
“ This is what I’m like. “ Jungkook said , grinning as though he could read my mind “ Just because I indulged you last night, doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you walk all over me ....Running off without telling me where you went? That’s not gonna happen again angel and I’m gonna make sure of it. ” He reached out and gently gripped my chin before squeezing down enough to make me wince.
I glared at him before my eyes slipped back to his cock and my mouth watered. It looked so good, thick and hand and he was close enough for me to see the precum beading up at the slit. I wondered what it would taste like. How it would feel,
“Can I suck you off?” I asked softly, batting my lashes.
He gave me an amused look.
“No. You can’t. Anyways... Like I was saying , I know you said you were a virgin but then, you also took my fat cock like you’d been doing it all your life. “ He frowned.
Blood rushed to my face in embarrassment.
“That’s... you...” I spluttered.
“And that’s when I realized... Just because you’re a virgin, doesn’t mean you haven’t fucked yourself. “ He grinned devilishly.
I buried my face in my hands.
“Oh god...” I choked.
“Guess what I found in your room...”
My eyes snapped up to him and he was rummaging in his jacket pocket.
I shrieked when I saw a very familiar vibrator , a pale mauve in color. It wasn’t very long but it was really thick, only a hairsbreadth smaller than Jungkook.
I glared at him.
“You went through my things!!” i yelled affronted.
He rolled his eyes.
“Hardly. It was literally on your bed when I went looking for you in the evening because I couldn’t fucking find you.. “ He snapped.
I shut my mouth.
“Okay...fine ..yeah I use sex toys. Big deal.” I muttered.
He shook his head.
“No it isn’t. Which is why I want you to show me. “ He leaned back, casually wrapping a hand around his cock. I stared at him as he casually began stroking the hard length of his dick, after licking his palms.
Did he really think I was too shy to put on a show?
Boy was he in for a surprise.
Smiling evilly, I pulled my dress up quickly, hooking my thumbs into my panties and yanking them down quickly, kicking them off.
I gave him a smile.
“Can I turn around? You’ll have a better view.” I smirked.
His eyebrows shot up.
“Go ahead, princess. Better impress me.”
I rolled my eyes at that.
Sitting up , I sat back down against the cushioned arm rest, keeping my eyes trained on his and I bent my knees and spread my legs, utterly shameless because well... because I had always like the idea of being watched.
Jungkook wasn’t shy by any standards and his gaze flitted right between my legs without any hesitation.
“Pretty.” He murmured gently and I fought the rush of embarrassment. I’d started this and I was going to see through it.
“What am I supposed to get turned on by?” I asked innocently running my fore an middle finger up an down my slit gently. I was really fucking wet on the inside but he couldn’t know that.
And just for good measure, I let my gaze drop to his cock and back up, looking bored.
His eyes narrowed.
“How about the way I filled your sloppy little cunt last night? Remember that? Remember how fucking wet you got, just from me licking your nipples....?” He smiled.
I felt my throat go dry and my pussy clenched, damp wetness seeping out and coating my hand and my fingers slipped right in before I could do anything about it.
Jungkook laughed, eyes trained where my fingers had disappeared.
He kept his hands on his cock and leaned in closer, kissing the edge of my earlobe.
“Thought so. “ He whispered right into my ears, :” My horny little slut. Bet you walk around all day with that cunt dripping wet and ready. Bet I could fuck into you with ease, anytime I want...just flip that skirt up, push your panties aside and drive my cock into you, yeah? “ He licked a stripe up my cheeks and I shuddered, pumping my fingers into my pussy faster, “ Virgin..??? what a fucking joke... You are the farthest thing from a virgin my sweet little whore...”
“Jungkook...” I whimpered and he gripped my wrists, stilling my fingers and pulling them out. He pulled my hand closer, right up to his mouth and I groaned when he wrapped his lips around the wet and messy digits, licking up all the wetness there.
“Sweet and spicy , just like I thought...” He directed my fingers back down between my fingers...” Get more of that wetness for me baby...want you to jerk me off with that hot slick you have dripping between your thighs...”
:” On your knees.” He prompted and I sank down in front of him. “Jerk me off, baby...Make me feel good...” He whispered, spreading his legs and I wrapped shaky hands around his cock. I swallowed , gazing at him , licking my lips as I stroked his dick, faster. He took one of my hands and directed them down to his balls.
“Like this... This makes me feel good..”He whispered, showing me just how he liked to be touched .I nodded, following his lead and speeding up my movements, gripping a little tighter, using my thumb to trace circles on the head, rubbing the wetness around his slit and the thick vein on the underside of his cock.
He groaned and shuddered a little. And then he leaned forward, gripping my chin.
“ I want you to get on my lap now.... and then I’m gonna cum inside you “
I whimpered, already scrambling to my feet but before I could get on him, he gripped my waists.
“ Let me finish, angel.I’m gonna fill you up with my cum and then I’m gonna stick this , “ He held the vibrator up, “ inside you . If you can keep your slutty little pussy tight enough for me, keep this thing and my cum inside you till tonight...maybe you’ll get your gift. “
I stared at him, my jaw coming unhinged.
He pulled me closer, maneuvering me onto his lap and I swallowed.
“I’m not... I can’t..” I whispered.
“Sure you can.. I believe you. But if you don’t want to.” His gaze softened. “ We can forget all about it.”
I bit my lips, staring into his gorgeous face and and really, it was a no brainer. I wasn’t going to say no to Jeon Jungkook. It was just not going to happen.
I spread my thighs and he grabbed his cock, tracing the tip on my slit.
I nodded, sinking down on the hard length easily. My breath caught , fingers curling into his shoulders as I swallowed the whimper that threatened. God he was so fucking big inside me. So hard and real and good and I wanted to sit on his cock forever. Wanted to stay locked in a room with him forever, just fucking and teasing and fucking again and only stopping to shower or eat.
“Don’t cum.” He said gently.” You don’t get to cum till I tell you to. You understand baby?”
I whimpered as he fucked into me just once or twice. Warm wetness flooded my insides and I clutched his shoulders, burying my face there as he groaned, fucking me full of his release.
He grabbed the vibrator from the couch and I swallowed when he brought it down to my entrance.
“Ready baby? Gonna pull my cock out and put this in.....Need to you clench down on it and keep my cum in... Don’t make a mess alright?” He kissed my cheeks sweetly, the affectionate gesture a complete contrast to his filthy words.
I did make a mess...
A little bit and the vibrator was thick enough to stay lodged in, and I felt my eyes roll back in my head as he pushed it in fully.
“You okay?” He whispered, kissing me softly before running his palms up and down my thighs. “Gonna help you put your panties on, baby. okay? keep your pussy clenched for me. ”
I nodded weakly, trying to keep my muscles clamped around the hard length of the toy inside me as he helped slip my bikini briefs back up my thighs.
“Good. Let’s go see those fireworks, shall we?” He grinned devilishly.
Jungkook stood leaning against the wall of the rooftop restaurant , arms crossed as he watched her, a smile playing around his lips as he watched her squirm, shifting her weight from on thigh to the other as she tried to sit on the hard backed chair, her eyes glassy and unfocused as the Kim vampire talked to her.
Dude didn’t seem to realize that she was so out of it she probably didn’t understand a word he was saying.
He stayed in the shadows because the front of his thighs was stained with cum, a little bit of white streaks, stark against the black of his slacks. She had let a little of it spill out of her when he’d pulled out...which was a little sloppy of her and usually, Jungkook would punish something like that in a partner but...well because it was the first time he would just let it pass. Besides, he was sure she would improve with time.
He trained his eyes back to her hips and his lips quirked when gripped she armrest, shivering a bit.
This felt better, he thought.
Watching her with other men was easier when he knew that he was the one on her mind. Knew that all she could think about was keeping his cum inside her, the hardness of the toy a reminder that he was the one she was trying to please and impress.
He slipped a hand inside his pocket, playing with the tiny little remote .
Would it be too much?
Only one way to find out.
He thumbed the small knob at the top of the remote, eyes trained on her .
The moment he flipped it on , at the smallest setting possible, she went completely still.
And he wondered how it felt, the electric vibrations of the toy against her insides...he wished he could see it...she her pussy spread out for him, pink and wet and swollen and wrecked.... God, the things he wanted to do to her.
It annoyed him a bit, how shamelessly she’s spread her legs on that couch, let him see the pink of her cunt without an ounce of shame .....annoyed him because he wasn’t sure if it was for him or because it was what she was like....
Annoyed him because if it wasn’t for just him.... would she do it for other too?
He couldn’t stomach the idea of it.
That pretty pink pussy, so wet and wanting...he wanted it all for himself . He wanted her legs spread out on his bed, her arms tied to the fucking bedposts so he could show her just how dangerous he could be when he wanted to....
That just because he’d let her take the lead didn’t mean he would settle for anything less than her complete submission.
Smiling, he turned the vibrations up a little bit, smirking as he watched her.
Sera gripped the armrest gently, raising her hips off the chair a bit and turning around slowly to stare right at him.
He grinned wide, relishing the shocked desperation on her face. He pushed away from the wall, sauntering over to her slowly till he was right behind her.
“Doing okay? baby?” He whispered gently for her ears only.
“Don’t do this to me.” She said softly, nails digging indents into her part as she clenched her fists , resting her hands on her knees.
Poor baby, he thought fondly. . When this night was over he would shower her with kisses. Giver all the affection. Cuddle the fuck out of her, brush her hair back and make her feel so, so , good.
But the night was far from over.
He glanced at her companion.
Yugyeom gave him a smile and nod, went back to talking about art or something.
Sera had her eyes fixed straight ahead, glassy and unfocused.
He leaned over to whisper into her ear.
“Don’t forget...You cannot cum.”
And then he sauntered back over to his place near the wall, before slipping his fingers into his jacket and turning up the tempo for her.
“Was fun catching up, Sera... I’ll text you, yeah?” Yugyeom gave me a light hug and I stared at him, slightly teary eyes and about a second away from collapsing into a heap on the floor.
I was sore and tired and a little out of my mind. The fireworks had lasted fifteen minutes.
It had felt like a year.
And I hadn’t even watched them because I had kept my eyes screwed shut, concentrating only on not cumming, because if I did, not only would I literally drip all over the chair , but I would likely scream loud enough to wake the dead.
Jungkook had turned the toy off when the show ended but it had done nothing for me...in fact it felt worse because the lack of stimulation was even worse than the steady thrum of the toy against my walls.
Jungkook looked entirely unaffected as he watched me bid good bye to Yugyeom and it was only when he had driven away that he lightly took my arm.
“You okay baby?” He gave a me a slow smile and I glared at him through wet lashes.
“I won’t go anywhere without you again. I promise. Please just get this out of me.”
He cooed, pulling me into a hug.
“Alright angel. I believe you. Come on...”
He led me to the large black Palisade , grabbing the keys from the valet.
“Get in the back seat.” He prompted.
I nodded, too out of it to even question it. I climbed into the seats and sat down, whimpering when the toy moved inside me, shifting in deeper. My clothes were damp , almost soaking wet and my thighs trembled.
He glanced at me.
“Can you hold on till we get home?” He asked gently.
I stared at him, unseeing. Tears filled my eyes and spilled over.
“Please.” Was all I could get out.
“Fuck, okay baby. Hang on.”
Jungkook drove quickly, pulling out of the hotel premises and into the road. But instead of taking the left like he usually did, he took a U turn, picking a side road that led away from the city’s bustle .
I gripped the seats as he drove in further away from the crowded city light , only blinking when he took a right into secluded side road, empty except for us.
I stared in confusion as he parked the car , turned off all the lights in the car. I watched him climb out of the front seat, slamming his door shut before prying mine open.
“Lay back for me baby. Up against the door.” He said gently. And then when I didn’t move he climbed, in all but lifting me up and settling me down till, I was leaning against the door, staring down at him.
He didn’t waste any time, spreading my legs, and pulling my panties off before pushing my knees up and apart.
“Gonna eat you out.” He growled and my eyes flew open, the first pang of lucidity hitting me.
“Wha-Wait...your...there’s...inside, there’s....” I couldn’t even say it.
“My cum? Yeah... i know my cum’s inside there...” Jungkook laughed, fingers gripping the base of the vibrating and twisting it just a little bit. “ i know angel, and now I’m gonna lick my cum out of your sopping wet pussy..”
Jungkook pulled the vibrator out of me and I sobbed at the gush of wetness that dripped out of me. But it didn’t spill, because he chased the wetness with his tongue, curling the hard length of it inside me, scooping up every last drop of the filthy mess inside me, taking it all into his hot, wet mouth .
He hummed a little before pressing a thumb to my clit, rubbing the nub till I began quivering already way too overstimulated to experience anything but a throbbing pain disguised as pleasure. I stared at him , vision swimming as he crawled to his knees on the back seat, head bowed because of the car’s ceiling and I watched him fumble with his belt, pulling out his cock and lining it up against my entrance.
He drove straight in, without any hesitation, leaning over me till his face was just a little away from mine, staring down at me, cheeks a little puffed. He fucked into me with a force that shook the car on its wheels, the large vehicle somehow shaking like a leaf from how hard he thrust into me. I felt like my body was on fire, breath getting punched out of me with every thrust of his cock inside me and I could only whimper , fingers curling and uncurling on the seat as I rode the high of being fucked into incoherency.
Jungkook grunted, hipped my waist hard used one hand to rub my clit harshly.
And then he bought his other hand up to slip two fingers into my mouth, prompting me to open my mouth. The digits slipped in , rubbing the flat of my tongue before pulling out.
I stared wordlessly, as his fingers slipped down to cup my jaw, squeezing till I opened my mouth wide. I stuck my tongue out instinctively and he groaned.
Jungkook gave me cheeky little wink, eyes flashing red before he opened his mouth, spitting the wet mess of his cum and my juices right onto my tongue just as he pulled back and drove into me, his cock going so deep I saw actual fireworks.
I went completely still, the sheer filthiness' of the act and the force of his thrust driving me straight over the edge , even as he groaned and kissed me full on the lips, tongue swooping in to swirl the mess on my tongue all over, his fingers gripping my hair as he fucked me harder, chasing his own pleasure now.
My body hummed, exhausted, drained, completely wrung out and wrecked.
I went limp as he gave one last thrust, spilling into me again.
He was panting against my neck as he came down from his high and I raised a shaky hand to gently stroke the back of his head as he shuddered against me.
When he pulled back to stare at me, brushing my damp hair off my face he had a smile on his face.
“Did you enjoy the fireworks baby?” He whispered.
It took me two whole minutes to even remember what he was talking about.
Author’s note :
Jungkook sure knows how to get her attention back on him doesn’t he?
Synopsis¬ how would you feel, when you learn that the most vital organs of your body aren't organs, but machines?
"Jungkook! Listen to me—"
"No!" he cries out once more, sliding down against the wall, curling up and breaking into heart-wrenching sobs.
"I-I'm— I-" his voice cracks in between, and he finally gives up talking, crying his heart out. He hides his face behind the palms of his hands, wanting to escape the vision of the cruel world.
Her heart breaks into a million shards watching him break down like this.
It had been a mistake, her mistake, to let him go out of the safety of the house, their home, even for a measly thing as groceries.
No, she shouldn't have let him out. It is solely her fault for letting him out, when she knew how bad it would hurt him, no- shatter him, if he heard the truth.
The world didn't care how he would feel; it would rather watch him break down, and enjoy it.
Just because he's a cyborg.
It has been around 6 years or so, since the first cyborg was created. It had been an experiment to prolong human life, to give it a second chance. A study conducted way back had shown that around 17.9 million deaths around the world were caused by CVD (cardiovascular diseases), covering a good 80% in the charts which showed the annual death and causes of it.
What was needed was a change. Anything organic was to decay, so, the change had to be mechanic in nature.
Eventually, the invention of the mechanical heart was done, followed by the invention of the mechanical brain.
The heart was a full, complete organ, which worked exactly like the human heart, the difference being it was a machine. Whereas, the brain was a small chip, a software of sorts, which was to be attached to the back of the neck of the being, just over the spinal cord.
To experiment with the potential of the efficiency of these, and to test their work, these were installed into lab-produced human bodies (save for biological hearts). These cyborgs were then readied to be taken wherever by the doctors and volunteers who worked under the same company.
Years after the success of these mechanical organs, the cyborgs were set free to live there own life, with or without their guardians. Despite this, there wasn't a dearth in the number of people who refused to accept the cyborgs into the society, picking and bullying on them, and deeming them lower than the humans.
It was hilarious yet heartbreaking, considering that the humans who purchased and got the mechanical organs transplanted were considered wealthy and upperclassmen, just because they had had the fortune to be developed in an actual womb.
"I'm inhuman," she hears him breath out, defeated, "just a machine." He sobs out. All those days with her, he had never really thought about what his life was, before her. Now he knows, he never did because he did not exist, before her. The thought breaks him even more.
Every time he went out with her, to her work, the Lab, he would wonder as to why she really even needed to visit the place, given the fact that she had a perfectly personalized laboratory back at home in the basement. Yet, he would revel in the company of the cyborgs there, he thought, who were homeless but temporarily sheltered there. Though, now he knows why he felt a certain connection to them.
"Just a machine..." he sounds quashed, crushed; he is, since the moment that nasty, hateful cashier had snapped at him condescendingly, and cursed at him for being who he really is, at the supermarket. 'Just a machine', he'd claimed. Although she can't feel the limit of his pain, she has a heart-crushing idea of it. Imagine finding out that you aren't what you believed you were your entire life, you knew you were. Imagine finding out, that your heart you felt happiness, sadness, empathy with, loved with, isn't it; it is a mere machine, just to keep you running.
But, she knows he isn't.
He pauses, trying to keep his hiccups, tears cascading down his plump cheeks, to listen to her; she was, and is his reason to go on. Always will be.
He sniffs, brows downing towards his eyes in puzzlement.
"You are wrong. You are so, so much more than that. You are my soul friend, the sweet person I turn to whenever I need support, company, love. You're my muse, and my reason to do better; my reason to even do, at all. You are the person who has done nothing, but give and give, offered love to every passing creature. You are my reason, my source to perfect euphoria. Without you, I am a mere shell of a girl, Jungkook,", her little nimble fingers gently dance across his damp cheeks, wiping away his tears, and trying to erase away his sorrows too.
His eyes flutter shut and the feel of her breath, so close to him, and the soft, yet precious words; his newly formed tears meet with her fingers, and so she leans in to connect her forehead with his.
"I love you, Koo, so much, with my whole life," her unoccupied hand finds his, takes it in it's grip, and brings it to his chest, resting these over where his heart is situated, "and therefore, I gave you mine."
It is this moment that everything stills, and his breathing, and hers, are the only things audible. Her palm that still rests above his, presses his hand further onto his, and he receives the lively vibrations of a beating heart right there. His expression grows distant as he focuses on the beats inside of him, those that he thought would never be his. Strange, that a few hours ago, he had been cruelly told the truth of his existence, and yet here he is, feeling a continuous series of heartbeats under his skin.
Ecstasy floods his being in a form of tranquil warmth, and his unfocused orbs of sight trace their way back to meet hers, growing wider with bewilderment. Sure, he is joyous at the fact of possessing that one biological instrument that condemns oneself as alive, yet he can't help but calculate and evaluate this fact; it is how his brain was programmed, being empathetic and perceptive, yet perspicacious and analytical. His lips curve down the slightest.
He studies her, watches her every shifting expression. She is smiling wide, from ear to ear, ever so radiant, and her glossy eyes express glee, yet there goes a flicker, almost indecipherable. His brows fall into a frown once again.
The growing pool of tears in her eyes, finally breaks, letting these cascade freely down her cheeks. She closes the little distance between them, and places a kiss on his lips, so gentle and fondly. It feels like a promise that she seals with it, an eternal one, but he has yet to find out what it is.
She breaks away daintily, compelling him to open his eyes back again.
"I told you, Koo, I gave you my heart, you have it," she whispers, then chuckles breathily, "it's just that I took yours without your permission."
His eyes blow wide with disbelief and horror, and she immediately shakes her head.
"Your heart—m-me?! What—do you mean—"
She nods, the smile still gracing her lips, and then cups his face delicately.
"Mhm, you are a real human being, with a very real heart," she wipes away a lone tear of his, "don't you ever dare say you are worthless again. Get that?"
It really doesn't take him long to get where she comes from. A surgery, that's where. He doesn't know when, but at the moment, he wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around her, and keep her closest to him. He does just that.
He cries into her neck; he doesn't particularly know why, whether it's because of his elation to have been deemed worthy of having, possessing her heart, or for that sorrowful fact, that he took it away from her.
"You remember the yearly medical checkup at the Lab I take you to on your birthdays? I had it decided Koo, to gift you my heart," she chuckled breathily, as he clutched onto her tighter, "that was the day you came into it's possession, really and technically."
It had been a difficult procedure, getting the doctors actually convinced, to perform the transplant, ignoring it's little shortcomings, sedating him for the operation, and then lying to him about the reasons for staying there for a few days after.
But it was all worth it. It always will be as long as he's happy.
She has his heart now, and although it's mechanical, she treasures it dearly, because it's his.
He sniffles again, leaning back to look at her.
She grins softly, leaning in to kiss his forehead lovingly.
"I told you Koo, I love you. My heart has been yours since the very moment I had met you."
i’ve been trying to find this bts fic and ur help would be greatly appreciated.
it was like a shorter one shot so.... it’s a tae x reader where y/n and tae break up but y/n’s niece misses tae when y/n shows up to a family gathering without him? and the niece ends up calling tae to come over and y/n and tae make up?
lol i’ve been trying to find this one, if you can help me out that’d be great!
genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining
warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)
words: 2, 396
summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing
hi everyone !!! here we are with the weekly update hehe, and it's a brief chapter but it does direct it up to the next one, and that'll be far more ... happening ... if you catch my drift 🤣
anyways, apologies for the silence again - uni has been absolutely kicking my butt and I'm lowkey on the verge of burnout but we'll pull through !!!
hope you enjoy the chapter 🥺❤️
Jungkook sits across from Jennie when it happens.
“We need to talk.” Jimin glares, hand already grabbing him by the collar when he tugs Jungkook out of his seat. He doesn’t bother to send Jennie a look of acknowledgement, though he doubts she’s at any fault. He was only there for one thing and the subject of his disdain only looks perplexed and confused.
“Can we do this later?” Jungkook huffs, gesturing between his body and Jennie’s. She’s blinking at the interaction, then picks up her purse to shoot the two boys a half-hearted smile.
“I think I know what you needed to say,” She smiles. Then she looks over to Jimin who’s still glaring down at the younger boy, “Good luck.”
Her wish only makes Jungkook gulp, but he can more or less guess what Jimin is dragging him by collar about.
When he manages to ruffle his clothes back into position and sees the angry slope of Jimin’s back, he takes a deep breath. Jimin was by no means a terrifying person on average, in fact, he was quite debatably one of the most pleasant people anyone could know.
But Jimin was loyal and he stuck by the people he cared about with all his heart. He’d fight and he’d defend them till the end of time, and you were no different. Especially since the two of you grew up with each other, Jimin seeing you grow from an inquisitive toddler to the intelligent woman you were today—Jimin would die to protect you.
So when Jimin shuffles through his backpack to hand Jungkook a pack of ice, he can only stare at the cold object in the palm of his hands.
“What is this—?”
“You’ll need it.” Jimin deadpans, then he’s rolling up his sleeves.
“I thought we were talking?” Jungkook asks with a raised brow.
“We are,” Jimin retorts, eyes unblinking when he stares the younger boy down with a heavy-lidded gaze, “After I beat your ass for fucking _____ over.”
Jungkook opens his mouth, ready to defend but Jimin’s resolute glare only makes him cower in submission. He knew he fucked up, and he knew that there was no way he could get a word in even to meekly apologise because when Jimin had his mind set on something, he wouldn’t stop until that goal was achieved.
And it seems that Jimin’s goal was to give Jungkook a physical reminder on why he shouldn’t fuck with the things or people he loved.
“Let me take off my jacket,” Jungkook mutters, defeated.
After multiple shoves against the wall and a generous swing to his cheek, Jungkook is begrudgingly holding the ice-pack against his bruising face.
Jimin doesn’t look apologetic when the two of them sit side-by-side on the sidewalk, or even when Jungkook’s lip busted open. He knew Jungkook could take it, he was twice his size. Even more so, Jungkook knew Jimin had every reason to act the way he did.
“Thanks for the ice pack, by the way,” Jungkook says sarcastically, wincing when he moves his mouth a little too much.
Jimin doesn’t gratify him with a response, instead levels a stare so menacing that it could send anyone running. But Jungkook’s done a bit too much of that recently; so he stays, braces himself for the words that were to leave Jimin’s lips.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Jungkook sighs, scrunching his face before tossing the ice pack aside. He supposed that it was nearly useless, nearly melting into a puddle that drips down his arm uncomfortably.
“I don’t know,” Jungkook confesses softly.
“You’ve got a set of nerves on you if you thought it was ever okay to say the shit you did to her, let alone a human being.” Jimin frowns, pulling Jungkook but his collar so that he’d look at him.
Jimin’s face is permanently etched into a scowl, but Jungkook already knows he’s fucked up. The constant reminder of you turning to different directions whenever you’d spot him was enough to hurt more than a punch to the face.
“I know.” Jungkook whispers, fiddling with his thumbs.
“Do you, Jungkook?” Jimin spits, glaring down at the boy who remains helpless under his grasp, “I told you to not fuck with her and you deliberately went against what I said.” His reminder is vicious and quiet, a hiss in the wind that blows.
Jungkook hears it loud and clear, “I know,” He exasperates, still as frustrated with himself as he was with the entire situation, “I know.” He repeats, more defeatedly.
Jimin shoves Jungkook back by releasing his grip around the collar that he nearly stumbles. But Jungkook catches himself just barely when Jimin rises to his feet, looking down at his younger friend like he was a piece of gum stuck on the sole of his shoes.
“Why?” Jimin asks after a beat of silence.
Jungkook purses his lips. He knows why, but he still can’t bring himself to say it. Not when he knows he’s fucked up and Jimin is rightfully furious. He knows Taehyung knows at this point too, there was nothing that Jimin knew that Taehyung didn’t. It was just that Jimin was the more confrontational one where Taehyung was passively aggressive with his anger.
“I …” Jungkook trails off weakly, standing up to reach Jimin’s height but despite his friend being taller, his presence was already intimidating enough.
“You doing that shit with her was one thing, because if it was consensual I’d go on my merry way,” Jimin sneers, poking a firm finger into Jungkook’s chest, “But you had to go and poke at her insecurities to hurt her. On purpose. That’s where you fucked up. Royally.”
Jungkook blinks, intently listening and observing the way Jimin’s chest rises and falls with every breath he heaves.
“It’s taking everything in me not to smear your reputation on campus for the shit you did,” Jimin’s eyes flutters shut and his voice is threatening. Jungkook’s eyes widen, but he still remains quiet, “But against my better conscience, you’re my friend. And I’m so fucking disappointed in you.” Jimin croaks like he’s conflicted.
And for the first time ever since the conversation started, Jungkook feels bad for Jimin; specifically. He knew that it was difficult to defend your friend while berating another, and he hated himself for putting him into a difficult position. It was an internal dispute that Jimin and Taehyung would have to face between holding Jungkook accountable and leaving him to dust.
There was history, between the four of you. But there was unseen history between Jimin and Jungkook that you and Taehyung hadn’t seen, and Jungkook’s always regarded Jimin as an older brother, honorific aside.
“I’m sorry.” Jungkook whispers.
Jimin looks up, glaring at the apology like he’s sworn at him.
“I can’t believe you.” He sneers, barring his teeth intimidatingly while Jungkook swallows.
“I’m sorry.” Jungkook looks down at his feet, and for a moment he feels like a child being scolded but he knew that children would never say anything as vicious as he did, unless they were a product of their environments.
Jungkook still can’t justify his words, or why he said them. But a deep part of his recognises that it was his insecurities peeking through and him weaponising a weapon powerful enough to shoot himself dead.
“This isn't my apology to accept,” Jimin says sternly, “But even if it was—I could never forget what you said to her, Jungkook.”
Jungkook nods, eyes still cast downwards.
“What does this …” he trails off, finally looking up to see Jimin carding a hand through his hair in exasperation and a pinched expression marring his face, “Where does this leave us?’
Jimin knows Jungkook’s asking about the state of their friendship together.
But the anger is blinding and overwhelming, so instead; he tosses his backpack over his shoulder before turning on his heel, head looking back ever so slightly to level Jungkook with a final gaze intense enough to speak for itself.
“Here,” Jimin declares, gesturing to the abandoned ice pack, the bruised cheek and knuckles, “Until you decide to get your shit together, I need time away from you. If not, I’m going to do something that ____ would hate and I don’t want to hurt her any more than you already have.”
The words are sharp, targeted and venomous. But Jungkook recognises he deserves it. He also doesn’t bother fighting back when Jimin finally leaves, leaving Jungkook to bask in his own, clouded thoughts.
“Why are your knuckles bruised?” Is the first thing you ask Jimin when you see him storming towards you and Taehyung in the library.
Taehyung is aware while you blissfully aren’t.
“None of your business,” Jimin shoots back, but then he’s tugging you out of your seat to hug you.
Your eyes widen, “Jimin?”
When he pulls away, his eyes soften.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
Taehyung nods and your head is spinning in confusion when you stare between the two boys with furrowed brows.
“Tell you what?”
“Jungkook.” Taehyung answers, eyes boring a hole into your skull.
At the mention of his name, you freeze in Jimin’s grasp as you stare at the both of them with wide eyes.
“How did you know—?”
Jimin frowns, releasing you so that you’re all able to take a seat in a specific corner of the library. You dryly note to yourself that you realise that every one of your conflicting moments of confrontation occurred in this place. Maybe it was about time for a change of scenery.
“Yena,” Taehyung tells you, and you scowl—nearly cussing her out in your mind but you know that your anger wasn’t warranted.
Especially when Jimin reaches out to grab your hand when he notices you looking down at your lap.
“How do you think it felt for us when we had to find out from someone else that you’ve been going through a hard time?” He asks softly, looking at you so gently that your lip nearly trembles.
For the longest time, Jimin and Taehyung were like older brothers that doted on you as much as they could. They took care of you and made sure that you knew your worth ever since the three of you were children. And for that, you could never be more thankful for their presence.
So you understand their hurt, and it makes you feel guiltier when you see Taehyung quietly patting your head although his eyes carry a sadness that only came from a friend withholding information from you.
“I …” You croak.
“You didn’t need to tell us why,” Taehyung reassures gently, “Just wanted to be here for you. For whatever reason, it may be.”
You stare down at your lap even harder and blink away the tears that only came with guilt.
“I’m sorry.” You say so meekly that it comes out as a squeak.
“Please don’t apologise. We just want to be here for you,” Jimin says sadly, squeezing your hand tighter even if you weren’t going to look at him. He doesn’t push you to do so.
“I didn’t want to make things complicated.” You confess softly, fiddling with the thumb on your free hand.
Taehyung scowls, “_____, you know that whatever it is, Jimin and I will try our best to remain as objective as possible but Jungkook said things to you that we're absolutely not okay and as both of your friends, we have a responsibility to hold him accountable.”
You purse your lips, nearly pouting. It’s as if Jimin reads your mind, where a million thoughts run through it, he pulls you closer so that he can properly hug you. Even if the position is a little weird and Taehyung has to bend his arm at a weird angle to be able to hug you too, you feel comforted.
“Don’t be mad at him.” You whisper softly into the material of Taehyung’s shirt.
Jimin snorts, “I release my anger in a healthy manner.”
Your eyes glance down at his knuckle suspiciously but he tugs it away when he notices your wandering eyes.
Taehyung sighs, caressing your hair softly. “We have every right to be angry with him, _____. What he did and said was unacceptable.” He informs you firmly.
You pull away slightly from their hold to furrow your eyebrows, “I know but—”
“You do know,” Jimin says softly, “And we know that you don’t like other people fighting your battles for you so we’ll step out of it. But that doesn’t mean we can’t personally be disappointed in what Jungkook did. He’s our friend too and if he did that to anyone else, we’d still be mad. We’re just extra mad because it’s you and we’re your best friends.”
You dip your head, letting out a sigh of acknowledgement.
“Just … let me talk to him.” You say, and Taehyung raises a brow at the shift in your tone, “This is something I need to do for myself. I appreciate you guys, I really do. But I don’t want things to be weird because of what we did.”
You can tell Jimin is about to argue with you, but Taehyung shoots him a look that shuts him up immediately.
“If that’s what you want.” Taehyung smiles gently at you.
Jimin clenches his jaw, clearly the more displeased one between the two. But he swallows it by clenching his fist and patting your head, shooting you a concerned stare mask in a slight glare.
“Are you sure?” He asks.
You nod, “Very.”
Jimin nibbles on his lips as if deep in thought before pulling away completely, leaning into his chair.
“If you insist,” He sighs, “But Jungkook did get what he deserved.”
You shrug, “I mean I don’t think avoiding him was the worst thing to do, but I guess you’re right.”
Then Taehyung and he are sharing a look familiar enough for you to know only comes out when they did something wrong or were caught causing trouble.
You raise a brow, “Am I missing something?”
Jimin shoots you a reassuring smile and you miss the shift of Taehyung’s eyes to the fist that wraps around your shoulder.
“Nothing at all.”
You [21:09]: hi jungkook
You [21:24]: can we talk? my door's open if you're free.
A/N: I'll properly format this later lmao just wanted to get this out since I binge wrote it for my new fellow ARMY friend @trrickytickle ❤.
Title: Laughable Living
Living with the boys was an experience; to say the least. It seemed no matter what you did you'd been being tickled recently and for the life of you; you couldn't figure out why
It was beyond flustering.
You were 100% sure when you moved in with them that they didn't know anything at all about your love for it. Yet it seemed they now did, somehow. The looks Jimin and Jungkook shared over your head before simultaneously raising your arms and attacking your torso and underarms respectively was hard to ignore.
Taehyung too, wasn't subtle. He suddenly began squeezing your sides while you were in the kitchen the next day making cereal. He made you jolt and squeal as you whirled to see his boxy grin.
"Aw look at that beaming smile~ I should do this more often! You're like my own personal stress ball. Go ahead cutie you can laugh I promise I won't poke fun too bad~"
Well now you were red and pouting too as giggles broke through his fingertips; swirling up to scribble at your ribs.
"Don't be mhehehehean!! Tae, no fhahahir!!"
His answering smile was sardonic as he leaned down to whisper ticklishly into your ear.
"All's fair in love and war baby don't you know that?"
Next was Hoseok. He'd always been playful to the extreme but it was typically pranks with Jungkook or the occasional poke not straddling your back and making you pound your fists into the couch in mirth as he wiggled your toes, laughing along with you.
"Man you're way more ticklish than I thought you'd be! Jimin was right you're really just a little hypersensitive ball of nerves, aren't you sweetie?"
He cooed, all sugary comments until you were panting when he finally let you up.
Come nighttime; you were with Joon in his studio, having been unable to sleep thanks to negative thoughts keeping you awake. The sound of his humming as he worked our melodies and beats was soothing and the repetitiveness brought you peace.
Yet you still felt anxious.
You were so out of it you didn't even notice Namjoon pulling you into his side as he sat beside you until you were already being thoroughly cuddled.
"I'm here. Try and get some rest okay?"
His own voice was husky from sleepiness and his fingers traced patterns into your neck. You giggled lightly into his chest until you both passed out, him eventually sliding back to lay down and you snuggled on his chest.
Cooking with Jin was always fun and this time was no different. He helped to teach you and was always patient; something you weren't used to in the kitchen. He was always so gentle whenever he moved you aside but this time he was too gentle and you yelped as he accidentally brushed your waist while moving you a little to the left to grab the oregano.
It passed without incident this time and you couldn't help but relax again; focused on making breakfast for everyone, but especially for Namjoon to thank him for his kindness and patience with you last night.
It was only when the food was all cooling did Jin strike, cornering you against the wall and wiggling fingers making you curl in on yourself as he hugged you and nuzzled your neck.
"Jin nhohohoho!! You jheheheherk!!"
Your insult only earned you a raspberry right where your shoulder met your neck but you weren't truly complaining. At your shriek he sent you to wake up the sleeping dragon; otherwise known as Yoongi and you stealthily entered his room, a woman on a mission.
You raised your fingers, deciding to spread the love and maybe make him not so grumpy if he woke with a smile on his face but the second your fingers dug into his sides you found yourself tugged into the bed and being attacked.
"You really should know better than to wake up the tickle monster so early dummy…"
The words, rough from sleep made your face flame and Yoongi smirked tiredly as he yawned and squeezed your kicking knees while straddling your waist.
And if the boys shared a knowing grin at your giddy laughter once they reached the kitchen, fondness evident, well; maybe you weren't nearly as alone in your enjoyment as you thought.
#sheridan summarizes #lb: tickle fics #bts fluff #bts tickle fic #bts tickle fics #bts x reader #bangtan x reader #bts x you #bangtan x you #ot7 x reader #ot7 x you #can be read platonic or romantic tbh but i wrote it mainly platonic!
A horrific murder of an eighteen year old girl had made news headlines. The case was handed over to Detective Min Yoongi and newbie Park Jimin to solve. The more they uncover, the more dangerous it gets. Will they continue or will they drop the case? Stay tuned!
Words: 20511, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Characters: Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi | Suga, Kim Namjoon | RM, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Park Jimin (BTS), Kim Taehyung | V, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Yong-hoo, Ahn Jung Wan
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Min Yoongi | Suga, Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Horror, Dead People, Inspired by Mob Psycho 100, Inspired by Divine Fury, black magic, Dark Magic, Alternate Universe - Silent Hill Fusion, Inspired by the Nun, Mention of horror movies, Canonical Character Death, Blood and Gore, Detective Min Yoongi | Suga, Demon Prince Jeon Jungkook, Detective Kim Namjoon | RM, Detective Park Jimin (BTS), Medical Examiner Kim Seokjin, Custodian Jung Hoseok, Restaurant Owner Kim Taehyung, mention of exorcism, Smut, Anal Sex
Pairing: Min Yoongi | Reader, Min Yoongi | Kim Seokjin, Kim Seokjin | Reader
Genre: angst, AU-historical, AU-fantasy, AU-spies, romance, action, aged-up characters, alternate universe - non-idol, childhood friends, friends to enemies, enemies to lovers
Word Count: 6301
Warnings: M/M sex, graphic violence, implied child abuse, past child abuse, sex work
Notes: I made a slight change to Chapter 3. I had referred to Jin's power as "dream speaking" (which he does do), but I meant to say he was "mind weaving" instead. I only mention this in case you remember what I wrote in the previous chapter and got confused by the explanations. Sorry!!
Summary: If Yoongi had thought Tutor Ming was spiteful before, he was wrong. The man delighted in cruelty and now that Jungkook was Yoongi’s designated whipping boy, Tutor Ming could now compound the misery he doled out with one stroke. Of course it was easy to find reasons to punish Jungkook for being Jungkook — he didn’t know how to read, how to do complex mathematics, or how to behave in the palace as a servant.
As for Yoongi, every mistake he made — no matter how minor — Tutor Ming would also beat Jungkook, knowing the guilt would eat Yoongi up inside. Yoongi tried to be perfect — he really did. But seeing as he was only a ten year old boy, of course he inevitably failed. And when he failed, Jungkook would receive the wallops meant for him. Each time, Yoongi vowed to be better until there would be no more excuse to hurt Jungkook on his behalf.
In the meantime, Yoongi practiced at being callous and indifferent to Jungkook, treating him worse than a dog so that Tutor Ming would no longer use Jungkook as a way to hurt him.
It did not seem to work.
Until All the Monsters Are Dead Masterlist: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | Epilogue
For more of my fics, here is my Masterlist.
If Yoongi had thought Tutor Ming was spiteful before, he was wrong. The man delighted in cruelty and now that Jungkook was Yoongi’s designated whipping boy, Tutor Ming could now compound the misery he doled out with one stroke. Of course it was easy to find reasons to punish Jungkook for being Jungkook — he didn’t know how to read, how to do complex mathematics, or how to behave in the palace as a servant.
As for Yoongi, every mistake he made — no matter how minor — Tutor Ming would also beat Jungkook, knowing the guilt would eat Yoongi up inside. Yoongi tried to be perfect — he really did. But seeing as he was only a ten year old boy, of course he inevitably failed. And when he failed, Jungkook would receive the wallops meant for him. Each time, Yoongi vowed to be better until there would be no more excuse to hurt Jungkook on his behalf.
In the meantime, Yoongi practiced at being callous and indifferent to Jungkook, treating him worse than a dog so that Tutor Ming would no longer use Jungkook as a way to hurt him.
It did not seem to work.
When they were alone, Yoongi would bind and see to Jungkook’s welts and wounds, help him read and learn all the annoying etiquette Yoongi’d had drilled into his head from birth onward. He would try to explain why he’d treated Jungkook so poorly and Jungkook would glare at him as if to say, “I’m behind and younger — not an idiot.”
And every night, Jungkook crawled from his pallet at the foot of Yoongi’s bed into Yoongi’s actual bed and allowed Yoongi to curve his larger body around him, listening intently as he spun stories of the three gods and gods-touched. Yoongi supposed it served multiple purposes. He could bond with Jungkook as well as teach him the basic theory of wielding that noble children learned in the nursery (and had also been taught to him by Tutor Ming).
It’s not that the myths and fables weren’t told to the common folks — it’s just that they were told to the peerage for specific reasons: proper utilization of those who were gods-touched or comprehension of their own abilities when they manifested.
“Tell me the stories of the Ang Shin touched again, hyung,” Jungkook asked, burrowing himself against Yoongi’s chest.
“Alright,” replied Yoongi. “Have I ever told you about Da Tong and Xiao Li?” He felt Jungkook shake his head. “Da Tong was a bandit who terrorized the desert county of Sha Mo with his fire wielding. Because water was in short supply, he would threaten to burn down different towns if they didn’t bring him money or food. Sometimes, he would demand women or men to service him.”
“Like wash his clothes or cut his hair?” asked Jungkook.
Yoongi wasn’t quite certain himself, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t washing clothes or cutting hair. “I think it’s what they steal pretty children off the streets for.” He thought of Y/N and felt overwhelmed with sorrow. He wondered where she was — if she was being hurt.
“Oh.” Yoongi was pretty sure Jungkook was thinking of Y/N, too. He lightly stroked Jungkook’s arm in a soothing, repetitive motion.
“Anyway, one day, Da Tong tried to threaten a small village of elderly women —”
“How can a village be full of elderly women?”
“I guess all the old ladies just got sick of living around men and left to form their own commune.”
“No, I mean, how would they get anything done? Who built their homes and farmed and hauled their supplies and stuff?”
“It’s near the desert so I doubt they did major farming — but even old ladies can be powerful wielders. They likely had Jigu Shin touched to help with growing food and shaping the earth into homes or Eum Shin touched to find and use water wisely.” Yoongi pretended to be annoyed. “Do you want to hear the story or not?”
“One day, Da Tong tried to threaten a small village of elderly women but they ignored him because they were used to the loud blustering of men and were no longer inclined to pay them any more mind.” Yoongi heard Jungkook snicker and joined in with a chuckle of his own. “This, of course, made Da Tong even madder and he hollered and bellowed and drew fire into his palms, readying himself to launch at the few wooden buildings and homesteads.”
“Those poor old ladies.”
“Mmmmm, yes. Finally, Da Tong had blustered enough and blasted a fireball at a building which caught on fire. But before it had a chance to spread, a whirlwind of sand and dirt snuffed it out. Da Tong tried again but this time, before he finished raising his arm, the earth opened and a wall of dirt encased him from the neck down.”
“A tiny woman named Xiao Li came out to greet him, saying, ‘Da Tong-ah, why have you been causing all this trouble? Don’t you know that with your power, you could make a good living without terrorizing the good people of Sha Mo?’” Yoongi had pitched his voice into a low, granny-sounding voice and Jungkook giggled. “‘The consequence of your actions today is to be trapped here until you can show me the proper respect.’ Da Tong was very angry and cursed at the old woman but she merely turned away and left.”
“Then what happened?” urged Jungkook.
“No matter how long Da Tong screamed and shouted, no one paid him any mind,” continued Yoongi. “He tried to free himself by firing through the dirt, but it was too thick and with his hands trapped, he could not wield properly. He eventually died of exposure and to this day, there is a pile of baked dirt with a human skeleton in it on the outskirts of this village.”
“That’s brutal,” said Jungkook. After a pause, he asked, “Why didn’t the other villages do the same?”
“Not every town is large enough or lucky enough to have gods-touched to defend them. Even though about one in ten people are gods-touched, most are not very powerful. About one in a thousand are strong, but their specific wielding or training — if they had any training— might not have been able to stop someone like Da Tong.”
“I could have stopped him.”
“Yeah? Tell me, little light wielder, how would you have stopped him?”
“I would have focused my light beams and burned a hole through his head.”
Yoongi thought fondly of his bloodthirsty friend. “That takes immense concentration and requires you to be up close. Or have you learned how to do so from afar and under stress?”
“One day, I’ll be the most powerful light wielder ever!”
It was only during these story times that Yoongi felt grateful for Tutor Ming’s lessons — and how he had pounded (literally) the strategies and lessons gleaned from these stories into him.
“I’ve no doubt of it. Tell me, Jungkookie, what did you learn from this story about wielding?”
“Don’t mess with old ladies! They’re vicious!”
Yoongi laughed. “That’s for sure. What else?”
Jungkook thought so long and hard, Yoongi could practically see his scrunched up nose in his mind’s eye. “Say sorry? And don’t be a bully?”
“Sure, I guess those are universal lessons,” hummed Yoongi. “What did you learn about wielding? Did you expect an earth wielder to be able to stop fire?”
“Oh, I suppose not. I thought only water could stop fire, but I guess you just have to know how to counter all types of wielding with the kind you have?”
“Yes,” he approved. “And also, you must learn how to wield without the use of your hands and feet. They are helpful, but too many gods-touched rely on the forms to do so and become dependent, never learning how to fight without it.”
“Mmmmm,” murmured Jungkook.
Yoongi smiled in the dark. “Go to sleep, now, Kook.”
And so the years went, the days an endless blur of lessons, beginner combat forms, and getting Jungkook up to speed. By the time Yoongi turned twelve, both he and Jungkook were ready to be sent to the Royal Academy, the institution only overlooking Jungkook’s low birth because he was the youngest prince’s whipping boy.
Yoongi had no doubt the king had a part in it, too. He was not fooled into thinking it was a kindness for Jungkook; they both knew the king held their lives in his hand. All he need do was squeeze.
Truth be told, Yoongi had thought the Royal Academy would be different. He’d erroneously believed that he would finally make friends — but that had not been the case. The students who sought him out were obvious sycophants or schemers and the rest of his class treated Jungkook with such contempt that Yoongi refused to interact with them unless forced to by circumstance. After weeks of rebuffing the opportunists, Yoongi was finally left alone with Jungkook, just like it used to be.
Surrounded by Nara’s elite, logically, Yoongi knew he should be using the time to secure connections and influence. That was definitely what his brother Yoonjae and cousin Kangdae had done. Although, even if they hadn't finished the year before him, they still wouldn’t have given him much thought or consideration. The two of them were months apart and inseparable; Yoongi had never been able to penetrate that bond. He was the unasked for spare to the spare and duly ignored.
At least Yoongi excelled. Years of fear and guilt had whipped him into a quick study.
Tutor Ming may have been a sadist and a spy for the king, but he’d prepared Yoongi and Jungkook well. The two of them were constantly trading the first and second spots in their classes. Of course, regardless of who actually placed first, the shifus would never acknowledge Jungkook officially. He was only tolerated because he was the prince’s bondservant — and because he was a prodigy at wielding light and technically, property of the king.
Unfortunately, prince though Yoongi may be, he had yet to exhibit any signs of wielding. It was still early, but Yoongi prepared himself to be the first prince in time out of mind to not be gods-touched. Maybe they’d existed but had been excised from history. Yoongi was determined to make his mark anyway.
“Prince Yoongi, please recite for the class the three types of Eum Shin touched and their mechanisms,” ordered Wielding Shifu Huang Fei Hong.
Yoongi stood and bowed to the shifu. “First, there are those Eum Shin touched who can manipulate water, and the more powerful can command larger bodies of water such as rivers and oceans. Some rare Eum Shin touched are storm wielders who can use the moisture in the atmosphere, gathering clouds and causing storms. Some water wielders are so powerful as to control the water in the air, in humans, or in plants.”
Yoongi paused to gather his answers as succinctly as possible. It was a lost cause.
“Second, there are shadow wielders who can hide themselves in shadows. If they are really powerful, they can also hide objects or people they are touching. There are some shadow wielders who can stay hidden even under the sun or direct light but that is not understood. Some scholars say they slip into a shadow world that is just under ours — that in fact, all shadow wielding is slipping into the shadow world which is easier to access in the dark — and unlike the Ang Shin touched who can bend the light around themselves or objects to seem invisible.”
“Though the class appreciates your supplemental observations, please just stick to the main types of Eum Shin touched at a high level, Prince Yoongi,” interjected Shifu Huang.
Yoongi fought the flush creeping up his neck. He loved learning about wielding and the different theories, traditions, and religions surrounding it in other parts of the world. It was like a puzzle, figuring out how to use the gods-touched individually and cooperatively in war and civilization. “Yes, Shifu Huang,” he said.
Shifu Huang waved his hand for Yoongi to continue. “Alright, what’s the last type then?”
“Er, well, the third type of Eum Shin touched can heal. The rates at which a healer can heal themselves after an injury vary — but generally speaking, the faster they can heal, the more powerful their abilities,” said Yoongi. His brain inadvertently flashed to Y/N — at both how young she had been and how her knife wound had closed so fast. He cleared his throat and continued, “Some healers are so powerful that their blood can heal other people when ingested. The fresher the blood, the more potent — the most prized being moon blood.”
“That was very thorough, Prince Yoongi,” acknowledged Shifu Huang. “Alright class, by tomorrow, I want you to write essays on the strengths and weaknesses of the Eum Shin touched and how to exploit both to the benefit of Nara.”
Shifu Huang dismissed everyone and Yoongi and Jungkook headed to Wu Gong.
“Ready for me to kick your ass, hyung?” teased Jungkook.
“Excuse you, I’m the top ranked fighter in our cohort at the moment.”
Jungkook made a rude gesture. “Only because no one is willing to commit social suicide and beat a prince. They’re going easy on you.”
“You keep telling yourself that, Jungkook. You still mad Lee Ji-eun wiped the mat with your face yesterday?”
“That’s not fair. She cheated and lit my uniform on fire. I had to stop, drop, and roll. Also, my shirt’s ruined.”
Yoongi laughed. “Technically, you’re not allowed to use your abilities on a person’s body. Your clothes are legitimate targets.”
“But I’m nine and she’s a whole head taller than me,” whined Jungkook.
“It hasn’t stopped you from beating most of our class. They’re bigger but you’re better. You just have to fight a little smarter. No one on a battlefield cares if you’re smaller — if anything, it makes you easier to crush.”
Jungkook bumped his shoulder into Yoongi’s chest. “You’ve been reading too much Wu Gong strategy and history in your spare time. You’re unusually savage for a prince.”
“Shows you how much you know about princes.”
They fell into their good natured banter until the session began. Not for the first time did Yoongi feel grateful for Jungkook’s presence at the academy. He lost himself in the comfort of the various martial forms, the impact of flesh on flesh, and the sting of sweat in his eyes.
“Come on, Yoongi,” grumbled Jungkook. “We have to finish our summary and analysis of the Siege of Dong Jing for Shifu Lee. You may not care if you get a perfect score, but my back certainly does.”
He knew Jungkook was joking, but he was also right. All of Yoongi’s punishments since he was ten years old had been exacted on the younger boy’s body. It was a testament to his character that he had never resented Yoongi these past four years — at least outwardly. Jungkook was one of his most loyal and devoted friends. In his rare moments of weakness, Yoongi liked to think that Jungkook would have loved him even if he weren’t his bondservant.
“Must be nice,” drawled Jung Hoseok, the only son of the Duchess of Nan Fei. “No offense, Kook.”
Jungkook merely nodded to his superior in rank and position and held his tongue.
“You’re such a pompous ass, Hoseok,” sniped Kim Namjoon. “How else is he supposed to fucking take that?”
As the eldest son of a minor lord, Namjoon was much more aware of how insulated Hoseok and Yoongi were as the highest ranked students at the Royal Academy. After all, the institution accepted only the most powerful in station and abilities. Namjoon himself had only qualified to attend because he’d manifested as Jigu Shin touched so early and mightily.
Hoseok merely shrugged. “Not my problem, Namjoon. Kook knows his place.”
“And you’re a radical — and you know what they do to radicals in this kingdom,” hissed Hoseok, “so shut your fucking mouth before you get me and my eomeoni killed for associating with your stupid, stupid ass.”
“Come on, you idiots. Jungkook and I need to work and unless you’re going to help or study, you can go dick around with the other second years,” interjected Yoongi. He wasn’t quite sure how either of them ended up becoming his friends of sorts last year — let alone tolerated each other. Namjoon and Hoseok were always butting heads and he was forever defusing escalating arguments such as this one.
Hoseok shot Namjoon an acidic look before saying, “I’m going to the practice room to work on a new form. See you assholes at dinner.”
Namjoon rolled his eyes and drew out a wax tablet and a thick scroll. Yoongi and Jungkook followed suit and settled into a rhythm of reading and writing. At some point, Taehyung, an earnest first year who had somehow latched onto Jungkook, joined them.
Yoongi ignored how Taehyung and Jungkook whispered and giggled together. They were thick as thieves and Yoongi tamped down the jealousy that always surged when he gave it any room. It was good for Jungkook to have someone closer to his age as a friend — someone who seemed to love him just for him and not his position in relation to the prince.
Not that Taehyung needed any connections. His father was the High Chancellor of Agriculture.
Yoongi suppressed that itching feeling that had been creeping up on him all day until finally, he couldn’t stand it any longer. “I’m going to go join Hoseok and go hit something,” he announced as he packed up his things. “I’ll finish this later.”
The other three barely acknowledged him as he left. He told himself it wasn’t because they didn’t care, but that they were engrossed in their work (or each other). Yoongi hurriedly changed into his wu gong zhifu and shoes and headed to the practice room.
He was hit with a wall of rippling heat. Before his brain could even register his movements, Yoongi threw himself to the ground as a fireball launched at where his head had been half a second ago. The room all around him was ablaze, and he could vaguely make out Hoseok convulsing on the floor, desperately attempting to ball himself up.
Yoongi quickly surveyed the room, trying to ascertain if the threat was Hoseok or someone else. There was no one else that Yoongi could see, but that didn’t mean much when people could disappear — although he supposed at the moment, even a hidden person was likely slowly roasting alive.
Hoseok was glowing. He was also on fire. Even to Yoongi’s inexpert assessment, this was bad.
All the old stories he’d read and heard coalesced with his formal knowledge about wielding. They raced through his mind as he approached Hoseok carefully, so very carefully. Yoongi remembered hearing tales of the occasional gods-touched who presented so suddenly — so violently — that all the energy stored within them was forced out at once. If the powers themselves did not consume these poor souls, the caloric expenditure would overload them, causing them to crash.
He had to help Hoseok regain control over himself and rein his powers before he literally burned himself out. Hoseok was screaming.
“Hoseok,” Yoongi yelled as he wrestled Hoseok onto his side to help ease his breathing. “It’s hyung,” Yoongi said as he wrapped himself around Hoseok’s shaking body and tried to smother the flames with his own body. “Listen to me, Hobi,” he ordered, “I need you to focus your fire on something outside of yourself. Aim for that mu ren zhuang.”
He could feel Hoseok twitching, his body wracked with spasms.
“Focus on my voice,” Yoongi commanded. “We are going to breathe in through your nose for a count of four. Ready?” Yoongi sucked in a huge breath and counted. “Now hold to seven — one, two, three, four, five six, seven,” he said. “Now exhale through your mouth for a count of eight and pretend you’re breathing out that fire.”
A huge stream of fire came out of Hoseok’s mouth — which wasn’t quite what Yoongi had expected — and hit the wooden dummy they used for practice. It’s many protruding arms and dowels already turning to ash.
“You did so good, Hoseok,” encouraged Yoongi. “Now we’re going to breathe in again, okay?” Yoongi repeated the breathing and counting again and again and each time, Hoseok’s fire seemed weaker.
Yoongi did not know how long it took, but finally, no more fire poured from Hoseok’s lips. He only knew that his entire body was roaring with agony and then, he knew nothing.
The guards hauled you away from the king’s quarters with harshly dug fingers and careless jabs. Your mind refused to accept your fate; you knew good and well that you could disappear at any point. It was not the first time you had been in the palace after all. But your heart forced one foot in front of the other; Jeon Jungkook would live, and thus, you would walk willingly to your fate.
You were afraid. In retrospect, you should have been terrified.
They brought you to the servant entrance of a grand estate on the edge of both the Holy District and the Pleasure Quarter. After some moments, a servant opened the door, saw the imperial uniforms and seal on the scroll and led them into a sparsely furnished room to wait.
A stunning woman in face and dress eventually came to the room and received them. She scanned the information in the scroll and finally flit her eyes over you, nose wrinkling at your appearance and smell. “You may leave,” she said, addressing the guards.
When they were alone the woman said, “Welcome to Iridescence, the premier pleasure house in all of Nara.” She stopped to gauge your reaction. You gave her none — that itself more insight into you than you realized. “I am Madame Song Hye-kyo and you have been given to me by the king to oversee your training for the use in whichever way I and the kingdom deem fit. Your time here ends at either your death or making whole the debt incurred from the moment the guards ascertained you.”
You stared back at her; silent.
“Come along then,” she said and left.
You followed after her, memorizing the turns and number of steps automatically. One did not grow up in the warrens of Min Yun without learning such basics. Madame Song brought her to the bathhouse and handed you over to the various attendants. The women quickly and efficiently stripped you and examined you for injuries. They then brought you to a tiled area and dumped cold water all over your body.
Over and over again, they doused you with bracing water. When the strata of dirt finally loosened some, they added soap. They scrubbed you and your scalp clean and at some point, someone had cut your hair at your shoulders to save everyone time. The hair had been so tangled and full of debris, it hadn’t been worth saving anyway.
You let them wash away your old armor layer by layer. As you watched the grime swirl down the drain, you girded yourself for what was to come. In your seven years of experience, gifts were never free; there was always a price.
Eventually, you were deemed fit to enter the sunken baths and they let you soak in the heat, your aches leeching away as the attendants scratched at your scalp with scented soap. You tried to recall all the stories your eomma had told you about what they did in pleasure houses to little girls. What they had done to her. You held them in the forefront of your mind as sharp reminders.
Soon enough, you were proven correct.
“Let me have a look at you properly,” said Madame Song after the women dried you off.
You stood in front of her, naked in the humid room. Madame Song tilted your face, opened your mouth and counted your teeth, looked in your eyes, checked the shape of your ears, and took measure of your hands and feet. You felt like a horse at market.
“The papers said you are Eum Shin touched.”
“You will speak when spoken to, child.”
“Are you Eum Shin touched?”
You quelled the instinct to hide. “Yes, madame.”
“How has Eum Shin touched you?” Her voice was so cold, so clinical. You suppressed a shudder. “And don’t try to lie. I can always tell.”
“I can wield shadows, madame,” you replied. You waited.
“That’s it?” Madame Song asked, a slight edge to her voice.
“I can hide both myself and anyone or anything I am touching in the shadows, madame. Have done since I could remember.” You waited again.
She narrowed her deep brown eyes at you. And then, swift as a snake, her hand was squeezing around your throat. You could not breathe. “I told you not to lie.” She abruptly let go. You gasped for air.
“I didn’t lie,” you croaked.
Madame Song slapped you so hard, tears stung your eyes. “You also didn’t tell the full truth.” She gripped your face between her strong fingers, your cheeks feeling the bite of her sharp nails. “Continue.”
“I can heal,” you whispered.
Her eyes glinted in greed and malice. “Alright, then. Let’s see how quickly you can heal.”
You felt sluggish and out of joint. Everything felt as if it were underwater and your limbs felt heavy; stupid. A sharp burning sensation pierced your senses as a hot metal brand seared into the delicate skin above your right shoulder blade. Your ears registered someone screaming in the background. Your throat hurt.
“That ought to do it,” came Madame Song’s dispassionate voice from somewhere above you. Or was it under you? You weren’t quite sure. “We’ll have to do more studying when you’re older and get your first moonblood.”
A cool salve was pressed to your shoulder as you sagged in relief. You could not tell how long they had spent, branding you with the house seal over and over again. It had been days. Your body was just too fast. Faster than any of them had ever witnessed.
Your skin kept healing smooth and no matter how long they held the hot brand to your skin, as soon as it lifted, you would begin to heal. At one point, they had held the scalding metal to you for over twenty minutes, digging deeper and deeper into your flesh.
Your own stomach had growled at the smell of sizzling meat. Just thinking of it made you want to vomit.
When that ceased to work, Madame Song had called for different drugs to slow your blood, to slow your metabolism, and to dampen your abilities. The problem was, there was so much trial and error; it was a constant race against time.
How much could they safely give you, a small child? (Of course, they didn’t really care about your safety — they just didn’t want you to die yet. After all, you were currently a negative line item.)
How long did the drug take to hit your system? How quickly did your body rid itself of these depressants in your blood? How much time did they have from the first dosing to your powers returning? At what consistent drug to blood saturation did your body require before you reverted back to your healed form?
They had to allow some healing — otherwise, you would have a permanent open wound — as well as require constant drugging. They needed to find that sweet spot of your body healing slowly enough to leave a scar but not so slowly as to not heal at all. After countless attempts, they finally hit upon the right drug and the right dosage and timing.
Of course, there had been no consideration for your pain tolerance and comfort. You could heal. That didn’t mean you couldn’t feel. How could they have known that the knitting of your body back together also ached in a way that you could never explain?
It wasn’t until you were trying to score these stimulants and depressants on the black market for yourself that you realized just how expensive these drugs had been — and in what high quantities they had wasted on you. It spoke to what lengths Madame Song had been willing to go to break you, to know the limits of your abilities, and what potential she knew you had. You had been seven — and they had blown a fortune.
But also, she was a sadistic cunt. She had needed to win. To have her mark on your person.
You were in a field of verdant green — the tall grass wide and rippling. The wind, a suggestion of a caress. The sun, bright but not too hot, not too dim. The scent on the wind was clean and faintly of fruit — of which kind, you were unsure. You had really only eaten an apple or orange on festival days.
A beautiful red and white fox with nine tails padded toward you.
“Hello, Kumiho,” you whispered as you reached out your hand gently, letting it sniff you.
The fox sniffed you cautiously and then butted its head against your palm as if demanding to be petted. You sat down lotus style and the vulpine climbed into your lap. You stroked its luxurious fur. You felt inexplicably safe.
“You’re very beautiful, little fox,” you cooed as the animal made your lap into its new bed. It lifted its head and snorted, as if to say, “Obviously.”
And then, it licked your hands and your neck and the tears off your face. You hadn’t even realized you’d been crying. “Shhhhh,” you heard, “sleep now, little one.” And you slept.
You woke up to the rustling of robes and the clinking of bowls and the smell of food. You cracked an eye open only to see the most beautiful boy you had ever laid eyes upon. If you had ever cared about your own looks, you might have felt threatened. But as it was, you only felt pity. Considering where you were, his long, glossy black hair, his dark knowing eyes, and his plush, pink lips were a liability.
His eyes crinkled in warmth. “You must be famished,” he said as he brought you a bowl of clear broth. “Ah, ah! Slowly or you won’t be able to keep it down.”
You tried to slow down, but your stomach felt as if it were going to cave in.
“I’m Kim Seokjin,” the boy said quietly, likely trying to distract you from picking up the bowl and downing the entire thing in one go. “How are you feeling?”
You stopped to take stock of your body. Your head seemed clear for the first time in — you actually had no idea how much time had passed. You were also no longer in pain. You reached for your shoulder and found that it was no longer wrapped in bandages.
“I can show it to you in the mirror if you’d like,” said Seokjin softly. He struck you as exquisitely gentle — the opposite of how you constantly felt. He brought two hand mirrors to you, handing you one of them. “May I?” he asked.
At your nod, he slowly eased the back of your sleeping robe over your right shoulder and angled the mirror so that you could see the angry red glyph on your shoulder. It was shiny and raised and you did not know who claimed ownership over your body.
“What does it say?”
“It’s the mark of our house, Iridescence,” he said. Seokjin loosened his own gray robe, turned and lowered it over his right shoulder. The same mark, long healed, was etched into his skin.
“Ah,” you replied.
He took in your blank face as he rearranged his robe, then yours. “Have some zhou,” he offered, bringing you a shallow bowl of rice porridge. “There are normally sides you can add but they were worried it would be too much for your stomach.” He winked and added, “But I snuck you out an egg.” He cracked and peeled a hardboiled egg for you and gave it to you as well. You ate it in two bites.
Seokjin smiled a true smile. You had never quite seen anyone so glorious.
“Oh, no. None of that now,” he said briskly, his face returning to its previous placidity. “I’ve reserved my heart for a prince — so don’t you go falling in love with me, my little duckling. You and I — we are not for the likes of each other.” He patted you on the head for a second.
“Princes aren’t that great,” you muttered, “they don’t know anything at all.”
“Have a lot of experience with princes, do you?”
You turned your head and swallowed your words before “I did” could escape your mouth. You so rarely revealed yourself to others that it had startled you at how easily the answer almost slipped from you. You would have panicked had an inexplicable sense of calm and safety suddenly swept through you.
“Well, you might have figured it out, but we’re to be roommates, you and I. I’ve always wanted a younger sister, and well, who wouldn’t want to be around me?” joked Seokjin.
You peered at him. He was so strange.
“Alright, little kit, let me give you the lay of the land. Welcome to hell, but as hells go, it could be a lot worse,” Seokjin mused. “At least we have food, shelter, and access to training and education.”
Seokjin was gorgeous even when devastated. “But we are not our own. Ever.”
Seokjin was true to his word. He helped you learn how to read — no matter that it was slow and painful and you hated every minute of it. The highest forms of etiquette and speech were drilled into you — often at the edge of a whip. Your fellow novices were untouchable for the harsher punishments, but it was not out of any compassion — merely that one did not ruin the merchandise and at Iridescence, the merchandise was flesh.
But you — you could heal and heal quickly. The evidence of any physical mistreatment instantly disappearing made you a target from the crueler tutors and novices.
Though basic fighting forms and self-defense were taught everyone, you, Seokjin, and a girl slightly older than you, Son Naeun, received additional training due to being both exceptionally attractive as well as gods-touched. Iridescence had plans for you three, and apparently, the plans included sharp, pointy things.
Seokjin and Naeun had both received specialized wu gong training prior to your arrival, but because you had manifested so young, you were included as soon as you had finished healing. Naeun was a fellow Eum Shin touched though she wielded water — she particularly enjoyed forming blades made of ice, going from weaponless to armed to the teeth in a matter of seconds.
You loved her killer instinct.
And Seokjin? He was a decent fighter — but his main strength was being chaos incarnate. You thought he was going for one attack when really, he was worming his way into your mind to convince you that the sword he had gunning for your heart was actually a feather. Seokjin, you discovered, was Jigu Shin touched — a mind weaver — and was so good that he could warp your reality even while engaged in combat.
He was not to be trusted.
You learned how to wield your shadows both for defense and offense. And though you could heal from injuries (something your wu gong shifus took advantage of when giving Seokjin and Naeun live blades but giving you blunt ones), you knew that even your stamina would be affected if you spent the majority of your energy healing while fighting.
Iridescence even brought in master thieves to teach the three of you the ways of stealth: how to pick pockets (which you already knew), to reconnoiter, to steal, and most of all, to stay silent. From con artists and stage actors, you were all taught the art of disguises, of accents, and of playing whatever part expected of you.
In your weaker moments, you could almost trick yourself into believing that Seokjin and Naeun could be your family — and that you were in an academy of sorts (albeit, highly specialized). Whenever you wondered aloud why you were rooming with Seokjin instead of Naeun, you could feel yourself steered into another direction.
You were onto Seokjin’s tricks — but then it occurred to you that it was a courtesy on his part. That perhaps, he only let you think you could detect him. One day, you would ask him to train you to guard yourself from mind weavers.
Everything was tolerable — and sometimes, markedly better than the before. But then, you thought of your eomma, bleeding out internally because a lordling had been too rough, and you knew that one day, you’d encounter someone who could hurt you beyond your capacity to heal in time.
Things settled into a not unpleasant routine for the next few years. And then, everything changed when you moonbled a few weeks into your eleventh year.
Until All the Monsters Are Dead Masterlist: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | Epilogue