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Summary & Masterlist

Pairings: ot7 x female

Warnings: I can’t tell you otherwise it will spoil the read!! It’s nothing too bad though <3

____________

I sat in my closet, rummaging through my clothes. I had told the boys that I wanted to go to the mall and see a movie. Save for Jimin, who I assumed was hungover, everyone agreed to come. Step one: complete. Now all I had to do was find the loudest, most obnoxious items of clothing I owned.

As I was sorting through an old bag of clothes I had planned on donating two years ago and just never got around to, an item caught my eye. My estranged cousin had gifted it to me and honestly, I never thought I’d wear it. Suddenly the satin piece of material that only stayed on your body with two chains seemed like the perfect top. Thankfully it was summer so I had that as my excuse if anyone asked. I told myself that the discomfort would be worth the satisfied curiosity.

A strange mix of giddy and dread filled me as I got dressed, pairing the top with a simple pair of jeans. Once I’d finished my makeup and hair, I picked out some shoes and waited for one of them to come to get me. I hadn’t asked them to, but how long would it take before one of them came to find me?

Lounging back on my couch, I took out my phone, ready to wait an hour or two.

Barely fifteen minutes passed before someone came bursting through the front door. I almost chucked my phone to the floor in a classic guilty fashion.

Scrambling to my feet, I came face to face with Jimin.

“I—” He paused whatever he was going to say to look me up and down, before shaking his head. “So what, you were just going to invite everyone but me?” He crossed his arms.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but that certainly wasn’t it.

“I thought you had a hangover,” I spluttered.

“So? You were just going to go on one big group date and not even ask if I wanted to come? Looking like that, no less?” He looked positively offended.

“It’s not a date!” I defended, though we both knew that I wasn’t being entirely honest. It was a date, to some degree, just….an experimental one.

He scoffed, “Nuh-uh, get back in there and get ugly.” He demanded, pointing at my bedroom door.

I wanted to get angry, I really did, but the laugh that bubbled up couldn’t be stopped. He didn’t look quite so amused.

“Get back in-in there and get uh-ugly.” I mimicked, barely getting the words out through my laughing. “I’m not changing!”

In one swift movement, he tugged his black t-shirt over his head and threw it onto the couch.

“Fine,” He shrugged, taking my hand and tugging me in the direction of the front door, “We’ll match.”

My eyes grew wide at the sight of his muscular tattooed chest as I tried to come up with a response, but nothing came to mind quick enough as he pulled me out the door.

“Jimin!” I hissed, trying to cover him with my body as a mom and her child walked by.

He wrapped his arms around me, my bare back against his chest. I could feel his silent laughter.

“Hi, sorry Mrs. Reynold.” I waved apologetically as Jimin and I shuffled like crabs to Jungkook’s door. I only got a disgusted scoff in reply.

Once we were safely behind closed doors, I elbowed him off me and shoved him into the door. If I had been paying attention, I would have noticed the dark look in his eyes before he neutralized his expression.

“What the hell was that?!”

“You put on a shirt, I’ll put on a shirt.” He bargained with another shrug.

“I am wearing a shirt!”

He scoffed, “Bikini’s cover more than that.”

“My entire front is covered!”

He didn’t say anything, so we just glared at each other in silence.

“Stop trying to dictate what I wear,” I growled. I hadn’t expected myself to get so defensive over my outfit choice ( I didn’t even want to wear it), but a part of me was enjoying the fight.

“Back at you, sweetheart .” He countered, “I won’t stop you from leaving, but if you go wearing that, I’m following wearing this.”

I let out a frustrated groan.

“Jimin, go put on a shirt, we’re leaving,” Namjoon ordered, shuffling past to get his shoes.

I crossed my arms smugly, daring Jimin to argue. He scoffed and stomped off like a petulant child. The pride I felt at winning the argument was petty, but it felt good.

More of the boys gathered to put on their shoes, but none of them made nearly as big of a deal as Jimin had. That is until Jungkook came round the corner.

“Why are you wearing a bib? Go put on a shirt.” He said, not even pausing.

Yoongi almost snorted iced-coffee out his nose and Taehyung put his hand up over his mouth to hide his silent laughter.

“Would you shut up?” I hissed and slapped his arm, my face burning. That was not the reaction I’d been hoping for.

Jungkook said something in reply, but I was too distracted by Jimin suddenly trying to shove one of his shirts over my head to catch it.

“Jimin!” I shrieked.

“I put on a shirt, you put on a shirt!” He giggled, not giving up.

I ducked under his arms and made a dash for the couch, clumsily jumping over it. Jimin was quick to follow, wrapping an arm around my waist before I could land on the floor and we both toppled to the cushions. Our laughter could likely be heard from the downstairs apartment.

“Let me go!” I giggled.

I didn’t know what happened, but something in me had just clicked. It felt like I had nothing left to lose and had gone crazy.

But I was having fun.

I’d fought my love for Jungkook for so long and Jimin made it so easy like it was all just in the moment and I didn’t have to worry about tomorrow. I didn’t have to worry about any broken hearts.

As the laughter subsided and I finally let Jimin put the shirt on me, I acknowledged the others in the room. Surprised looks across the board, but there was also an undertone of pleasure in their expressions. I elected to ignore the details.

“You’re like an over-possessive boyfriend,” I grumbled as I got up from the couch. Jimin just smirked in reply.

“Tasia?” Jungkook called as I made my way to the front door.

Not wanting to answer the questions I knew he had, I shook my head. “Let’s go!”

I grabbed the hand closest to me — Seokjin’s — and skipped out the door.

…

I was in the back of Hoseok’s car, Seokjin to my right, and Jungkook was in the passenger, giving directions to the mall. The others were in a second car I hadn’t known existed.

Seokjin and I didn’t interact much until he pulled a bag of gummy bears out of nowhere, the crinkling of plastic catching my attention as he silently offered me some. It felt like his way of breaking the awkwardness that had grown between us throughout the silent ride. I nodded and thanked him as he shook a couple out into my palm.

We arrived before the others, despite having left at the same time, and ended up hovering around the car in the parking lot, waiting. Jungkook had draped himself over my shoulders, whispering made up stories about every stranger that passed. He was in the middle of narrating a 101 Dalmatians spin-off when a car door slammed and the sounds of bickering could immediately be heard.

Standing up straighter, I peeked around the car to see Taehyung huffing into sight.

“Ya! What took so long?” Hoseok called out as the others also exited the car.

Jimin refused to meet anyone’s gaze as he answered, “I put the wrong address into the navigator.”

Seokjin and I started laughing, though I had the decency to at least try and hide my reaction, while Seokjin pointed and laughed.

“Whatever, it’s done and over with,” Namjoon finished, cutting everyone off.

“Yeah! Let’s go eat something!” I cheered, skipping off towards where I knew a collection of restaurants were.

If I thought Jimin and Hoseok drew a lot of attention, I was not prepared for the attention all of them drew in a chic restaurant in the middle of a popular mall. The attention carried on throughout the entire meal and I had to escape to the bathroom to fight off my annoyance after the third woman came up and asked for their number.

Was this what it was like for them every time they went out? I wondered bitterly.

Rinsing the soap off my hands underwater I didn’t wait for to warm up, I noticed a woman standing behind me in the mirror. I gasped, not having heard her coming up behind me, but I recognized her as one of the women who had come up and flirt heavily with the boys.

Expecting that she wanted me to hook her up, I opened my mouth to crush her dreams, but I didn’t get a chance to say anything before she ripped me back by my hair.

I let out a small scream but was quickly silenced when she bashed my head into the tile wall. Fear ripped through me as I attempted to fight back, my vision going foggy.

“S-stop.” I weakly muttered, feeling my consciousness begin to slip, my wet grip on her wrists loosening.

“Took a while, but we finally found him, all cozy with his girlfriend.” She hissed.

“Who-who?” I could barely comprehend her next words.

“Jeon Jungkook,” She laughed cruelly, “Boss is gonna love this.”

Next

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Euphoria [9]

bad boy jungkook x librarian yn

Jungkook was used to getting what he wanted. He was handsome, disgustingly so, and he knew how to flirt his way in (and out of) danger. He lived for and with his brothers. He didn’t know anything but his found family. Still, happening upon you was one of the best decisions he ever made.

Now… How to make you realize that your life was missing him as much as his had been missing you.

(angst/yandere/smut / gore / fluff)

Masterlist  /  i don’t have a tag list  /  find me on twitter  /  word count: 4.6k

tw: voyeurism, jk is a real pervert lol

Chapter 9 ‘Owned’

Blinking, suddenly alert, you feel a wet nose press curiously against your cheek. Instantly, you jolt upright and nearly topple over from the weight of the blankets wrapped awkwardly around your body. Bam pokes his head out, curiously, tongue hanging lazily out of his mouth, and he hops from side to side, trying to take a better look at you.

“Bam, stop,” Jungkook’s voice comes from across the room. Immediately, the blood in your veins is frozen in fear. He really was never going to leave you alone. “She’s resting.”

You sit up, making space for Bam to nestle himself in your lap. The dog is much larger up close, and he tosses his long, powerful legs over your shoulder, taking your open arms as a green light for slobber-time. He licks all over your face and exposed neck, excitedly, sniffing you all over, pressing his wet snout against you with enough force to knock you over.

“You’re a big boy,” you murmur, sleepily, patting his head, echoing Jimin’s gestures from the night before.

Jungkook is stood, already fully-dressed, hovering awkwardly over the two of you, watching with something akin to hope blossoming in his eyes. He tries to taper it down, tries to stomp on it, to extinguish it before you see it - before you can get angry at him for wishing for something he knows he shouldn’t be too eager for. But, he’s looking at you and seeing the smile in your eyes for the first time since this whole ordeal began and it makes him feel… alive.

“Come here, boy,” Jungkook commands, patting his thighs and the dog’s attention immediately snaps from you to the other boy. Bam climbs off of you and pads over to his owner, circling his legs twice before sitting nicely at the man’s right-side, like a soldier. Jungkook sits down on his ass, pulling his knees up to his chest, and observes you, silently.

“Did you sleep okay?”

You stay quiet, monitoring the man just as intently as he was doing to you.

Jungkook looks like shit. He has bags under his red-rimmed eyes and his hair is a puffy mess, as if he spent time running his hands through it. His lips are bitten and red, and they even seem a little swollen when he angles his head a certain way. The tip of his softly-rounded nose is tinged red and he just looked… shitty.

You say as much, without thinking.

He coughs out a wet laugh, looking away. “Good to know you don’t pull any punches even in the morning.”

“I’m just saying,” you grumble, looking at your feet. “Did you not sleep or something?”

Jungkook looks sheepish when he replies. “I couldn’t. I was… anxious.”

“About me?”

He nods. “Not your fault though. It’s… totally a ‘me’ thing.”

“You didn’t sleep at all?”

He shakes his head. “The floor isn’t really that comfortable either.”

“You have a bed.”

“I left the bed for you,” he replies. “Not that you needed it. You looked comfortable on the floor.”

“I’m used to sleeping in less-than-preferable conditions,” you retort, glibly. He gets this curious look in his eye, like he’s greedy to learn more about your shitty childhood and- no. That wasn’t happening. You abruptly say, “I’m going to clean up.”

He nods, getting to his feet and awkwardly hanging out by the door. “Do you want me to-”

“Get the fuck out,” you reply without looking back in his direction. You grab a hand towel and slam the door closed, loud enough for him to hear. You hear the door softly close once he ushers Bam out into the hallway, but what you don’t see is his fist-pump of excitement once he was outside.

–

“We had a conversation,” he say, grabbing Taehyung’s shoulders and shaking him excitedly. Taehyung nearly drops his bowl of spicy ramen and he grumbles under his breath as he has to adjust his t-shirt (the one Jungkook had to practically beg him to wear considering the three men didn’t enjoy wearing shorts around the house, let alone shirts, but he couldn’t have you seeing his brother’s heavily-inked flesh so openly. What happens if that is more your type? He has tattoos too, but he isn’t as covered yet. He doesn’t think he would be able to stomach seeing your ogle another man so openly in front of him without sending his fist through a glass window) once he was released.

Bam, happily, walks beside his owner before spotting Jimin curled up in the couch and rushes to make himself comfortable, stealing the seat that Taehyung had been eyeing for himself, much to the guitarist’s annoyance.

“Fucking stupid dog.”

Jimin gasps and covers Bam’s ears. “Don’t talk about my baby like that!”

Taehyung rolls his eyes but apologizes quietly to the dog and sits on the other side. It isn’t as close to Jimin as he wants to be but it’ll have to do.

“Hyung, we had a conversation and she didn’t yell at me,” Jungkook says, gleefully.

Jimin quirks a brow. “She yelled a little, didn’t she?”

Jungkook deflates slightly. “Only a little. Maybe she’s not as mad anymore, after sleeping on things?”

Jimin and Taehyung both give the younger man a disbelieving look. Taehyung snorts into his food and remarks, “I wouldn’t have my hopes too high for that.”

Jungkook frowns. “She’s still mad?”

“Definitely,” the pair chorus.

Jimin continues, “She’s going to be mad for a long time. This isn’t a one-night fixer-upper, Kookie.”

“I just don’t want her to be angry anymore,” he responds, pitifully. “It makes my heart hurt.”

Taehyung glanced at Jimin and feels his guilt blossom. He understands what it feels like to love someone so much that it stops making sense - it starts feeling like dying would be better than not being with that person. That not seeing them smile would be like never having another breath of fresh again again for the rest of your life. That trying to stitch your world back together again without them would fundamentally be impossible because the largest piece would always be missing.

Yeah, he understands just how insane love could make you feel.

“Just give her time,” Taehyung says, sagely, moving his eyes from his love’s face to the cartoon playing out on the TV. “She’ll come around. You’re too cute for her to ignore.”

“Hyung…”

“Besides, one rejection isn’t enough to knock your big ass off your feet,” Taehyung finishes. “Like I told you before. Make her need you.”

Jimin can’t ignore the foreboding feeling settling in his gut, but as he looks into his little brother’s eyes, his mouth feels stiff as lead. All he can bring himself to do is smile, a little heavy but it was bordering on real and he was wishing for the best.

“I want to make her breakfast,” Jungkook says, suddenly perking up. “Would that be too much? It’s too much, right? Oh, but I make really good pancakes, don’t I, hyung? I should make them for her, right?”

Taehyung exhales softly and nods. “Sure, bud. Go ahead. I’m sure she’ll love them.”

Jungkook beams and merrily clambers to his feet, disappearing into the kitchen.

“You tell that miserable bitch that she better eat every scrap on that plate or I’ll toss her headfirst off the balcony, Jungkook’s feelings be damned,” Taehyung says, quietly, pushing another spoonful of ramen into his mouth.

Jimin snorts.

“I’m so serious, baby,” he says, glaring at his love’s amused expression. “Talk to her or I will.”

“You’re so scary,” Jimin teases, squeezing Taehyung’s puffy cheeks. “I’ll go give our guesta warning.”

Jimin moves to his feet and Taehyung can’t help but smack his ass as he walks by. The pink-haired man glares over his shoulder, flipping him off. Taehyung just wants to toss him over his shoulder and take him back to their room and press him into the mattress until he’s crying for him all over again.

Jungkook patters around the kitchen for a while, the smell of maple syrup and almond milk pouring from the cracked open door, and Jimin tosses a warm look back, hoping against hope that YN wouldn’t piss on the small bud of happiness that was growing in their dumb bunny.

He knocks, because even though he has the grace and tact of a tavern-owner, he still didn’t like walking in on nude girls. Especially ones who had the penchant for smacking fire out of him when they are pissed off.

“YN…”

The door cracks open and you don’t poke your head out, he takes that as permission to enter the room. He pads inside to see you bent over the edge of the bed but facing away from him, and a pair of Jungkook’s boxers covering your shapely ass from his eyes.

Jimin whistles, low and flirtatiously, unable to stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth, “I might prefer men but don’t tempt me.”

He’s too used to flirting with clients to get them into the bedroom. He subconsciously started treating you like you were a mark who only knew him as ‘Jay’, elusive and sultry slut who spreads his thighs and puts on a ‘good show’, and not someone who actually knows the him behind the curtain.

You look over your shoulder as you pull the bedsheets you had used to wrap yourself up last night over the bed, cleaning up the space around you and roll your eyes. “Cut the crap. What do you want?”

“Kookie is making breakfast,” he says, quietly. “I’m here to warn you. Be nice.”

“Iamnice,” you retort, lip curling.

“Be nicer,” he suggests. “Otherwise Tae isn’t going to be happy.”

“How your boyfriend feels is none of my concern,” you respond, sarcastically. You had thought about showering early, just to spend some time alone with your thoughts, but decided against it. You’d break up your day by showering later, giving you the illusion of privacy and some space to clear your head once it eventually got too crowded with them.

“Not my boyfriend,” he corrects. “And it will be your issue if he gets angry.”

“Oh, really? What’ll happen? He’ll hit me? Please, I can take a beating,” you answer. “And I can give one too. Seeing as how you are passing messages, let himknow that.”

Jimin exhales, heavily. “Both of you are so childish.”

“He started it,” you fuss. “I’ll be nice.” Then at Jimin’s pointed expression, you correct, “Nicer.”

“Good,” he replies, seemingly content. “Hurry up and put on some pants. I’m starving.”

Jimin leads you back into the living room and you commandeer your spot in the armchair overlooking the gloomy compound, enviously watching the families enjoying the dull morning weather.

Bam notices you walk in immediately and pads over to your side for head rubs and cuddles. The huge dog can’t fit all in your lap but that doesn’t stop him from trying, tossing his heavy head over your shoulder and kicking his long legs around your middle, curling around you.

“Alright, alright,” you murmur, letting him get comfortable and continue rubbing his back and scratching behind his ears.

The room smells delectable, all sugary and homely, and you relax into it, listening to Jungkook walk around the kitchen and sing to himself.

He has a nice voice.

After a little while, Jungkook comes out, having pulled off his hoodie when he started frying the pancakes, showing off his muscular, tattooed arms. His hair is pushed back with a headband and with his forehead exposed, you can see his eyebrow piercing better. His hair is cut neatly at the sides too. His jawline is strong, but his cheeks puff out a little as he whispers to himself, double and triple checking the food on the plate. His shoulders are wide but his waist is trim and thin, and you can tell he works out - a lot.

Jungkook looks so fucking good, you almost forget for a moment that he has you captive, held against your will.

The thought crashes into you like a truck on a highway and you avert your eyes to the ceiling. Not fast enough, however, as Taehyung watches you ogle their dumb bunny with a smirk on his handsome face. Of course you were attracted to Kookie, who wouldn’t be?

“YN, I got the syrup you like,” the man in question says, casually. Jungkook grins at you, bright and adorable, eyes crinkling, waiting for praise.

You feel the other two men’s eyes flick to you, one cautious and the other vicious, and you bite down the urge to yell some kind of defensive obscenity.

Instead, you exhale and reply, “Thanks.”

Jungkook freezes, eyes widening, before the smile returns even brighter than before.

If he had a tail, it would be wagging wildly.

Taehyung relaxes, marginally, and Jimin gives you a private smile - a grateful smile. It was all repulsive.

Jungkook asks, “Do you want to sit at the table or in front of the TV?”

“Here is fine,” you reply, tightly. Bam shifts at the sound of his owner’s voice and hops off your lap. You are surprised at just how heavy the ball of energy is - you suppose he is just like his dad, big and excitable.

Jungkook nods and hands you a plate of pancakes and fluffy scrambled eggs. “Careful, it’s kind of hot.” You take the plate and rest it on your stomach. The food looks delectable, just as you had presumed, but something in you gives you pause. Jungkook continues, gently, “I didn’t know if you wanted bacon or not so I did some on the side.”

He glances at the space in front of you on the floor and hovers, awkwardly, juggling his plate and the condiments.

“Do you want to… sit here?”

He looks up into your eyes, surprised over being caught, before his cheeks burn. “N-No… I mean, yes. I do. But- Not if you don’t like it.”

After catching Jimin’s hard look, you exhale heavily and shift your feet a little so they wouldn’t be in his face. “It’s your house. Sit where you like.”

Jungkook instantly sits on the floor, crossing his legs and resting his back against the leg of the armchair.

Some quiet moments pass between the two of you before he whispers, softly, “Thank you so much.”

He doesn’t expect you to hear him, he says it so quietly, but you do, and it makes your appetite disappear.

Jungkook is rocking happily from side to side as he eats, full mouthfuls of syrup, fluffy pancake and crispy bacon. He offers to eat the rest of your plate once he realizes you won’t - can’t - finish your breakfast, not wanting any to go to waste.

You pile the three-quarters of eggs and half a pancake onto his plate, and his eyes glow in happiness as he eats. Subconsciously, he touches you - his hand grazes your ankle as he shuffles around, his shoulder brushes against the inside of your calf. He doesn’t show too much emotion of his face, not that you would recognize it, but he barely stops his eyes from rolling into the back of his head when you do it back.

The feeling of your toes against his side, even for that nano-second, was enough to have him stiff in his sweats. He adjusts himself as inconspicuously as he can, but Jimin’s giggles give him away. It’s good that YN doesn’t know them that well yet, but he glares nonetheless, at his hyperactive brother.

Stop fucking laughing, he says with his eyes, glaring. Please!

Time passes with Jimin and Taehyung wrapped around each other in a way that Jungkook envies so deeply. Jimin rakes his nails against Taehyung’s scalp, back and forth in a soothing manner that calms the moody guitarist. Jungkook yearns for the sensation of your delicate fingers against his back, the tips of your nails against his spine, drawing intelligible shapes on his skin. Sheer ecstasy blossoms behind his eyes and his breathing gets heavy.

The tip of his dick is unbearably sensitive, having spent half of the night stripping his cock raw as the thoughts he had of you became more and more depraved. You, being in his room, filling the space with your presence, overwhelmed him periodically and he had to disappear into the bathroom to calm himself down. He thought it would help, removing the visual stimuli, but after practically tasting you in the air, he was only reminded that you had been in there, naked, and touching yourself… It was too much for him to resist.

He was a weak man, you can’t blame him for that.

His phone burns in his pocket as the video of you from this morning sleepily padding around the bathroom begs him to watch. The thought had come to him spontaneously last night, and he had done it before even really thinking it through, but what an idea it had been. The small camera he had installed in the bathroom while you slept soundlessly just meant he could see you / raw and unfiltered - whenever he wanted.

It was a win-win situation. He wouldn’t bother you when he yearned for you, and you wouldn’t have to know about it. It would be his first and only secret from you. Everything else, he would happily strip bare for your eyes, but this… this was his. At least for now.

He wouldn’t watch too much, he didn’t want to run the risk of overwhelming himself - he didn’t want to become too sick with obsession that he would act too quickly, too rashly, with his need to have you writhing underneath him that he would scare you off.

But, in that moment, the smell of you in the small room became overwhelming, the dirty towel that you had used damp in the basket in the corner of his room - he couldn’t stop himself. He was pulling his shorts down and fondling himself within seconds. Each time he orgasmed, it felt like he was being sucked through a straw - he felt fiery licks of pleasure from the roots of his hair to the soles of his feet and he leaked all over the floor and used the towel he had been sniffing to clean up his mess.

For now, he had to play the role - he had to somehow worm his way onto your good side, and to do that, he had to seem unbearably pathetic.

“Are you sure, YN? You hardly ate anything,” he mumbles, brow furrowing as he trails behind you as you both walk back to his room. “Didn’t it taste good? I didn’t make it how you like? I can try it again tomorrow, if you’ll let me, okay? Please don’t be mad.”

You roll your eyes, hidden from his field of vision and push open the door. “I’m not angry.”

Bam rushes inside first, jumping straight onto the bed and making a comfy space for himself to lay down and rest. Jungkook says, “But you didn’t eat.”

“I just wasn’t hungry,” you reply, simply.

Jungkook stands in front of you, forcing you to look up into his face when he refuses to move even when you try to step around him. You snap, patience wearing painfully thin, “What?”

“I’ll do better next time,” he promises, earnestly. “Just don’t shut me out again, please.”

You take a calming breath, the urge to grip his collar and shake him until he wakes up out of his delusion almost overtaking you. “I just wasn’t hungry. Really. Do you think if I were mad I wouldn’t tell you? I haven’t made it a habit to pull any punches with you guys yet, have I?”

Jungkook’s lips pull up briefly, a bitter twist to his mouth, before it disappears and he nods. “I trust you.”

You take a step back out of his compelling aura and move to the corner of the room, taking a seat. Jungkook trails behind you, sitting far enough away from you to give you the illusion of space but close enough to still observe you.

“Don’t you have something to do?”

He glances up, as if surprised you are instigating conversation with him, and truthfully, you are shocked yourself. You didn’t have any other means of keeping yourself entertained, considering he still hadn’t returned your phone and you couldn’t access his computer without him seeing. He shakes his head.

“I just- I’m good here,” he says, clearly holding some things back. “Do you… Do you want me to go?”

You can almost see his ears drop in dismay, so you give him an inch of rope. “No. It’s fine. I just- It’s a bit boring.”

“You’re bored?” He seems to be kicking himself for not realizing sooner. He scrambles to his knees and suggests, “I can- Uh, we can do stuff. In the living room. We have a bunch of games.. video games. I never- Oh, I never asked.”

“I like video games,” you respond, quietly.

His chest seems to raise with the new information and his cheeks turn rosy. “Shall we go and play? I’m not too bad at it.”

“Maybe another time,” you concede. “I’m tired now.”

He nods. “Do you- Uhm, you could take the bed.”

You pin him with a hard look, glancing between his innocent face and the inviting bed that Bam is already strewn across. “You… You don’t mind?”

He shakes his head. “It’s your room.”

Annoyance flares up in your once more. It isn’t your room, this isn’t your home. But he seems so soft in that moment that you worry a single word from you would turn him into a mess of tears, and while you don’t really care if he’s sad, you wonder how much hell you would catch from Taehyung for doing it to him.

Part of you wants to test it, to see if the other man is really as much of a threat as he postulates. But no, you’re too out of your comfort zone to willingly ask for such trouble, as tempting as it might be.

You have no weapons, only wit and that wasn’t enough.

Not yet.

“Whatever,” you respond. “I want to shower.”

“Fine,” he replies, hopping to his feet and shoving his phone in his pocket. “I’ll wait outside.”

You don’t respond, pushing past him careful to not touch his skin, and you miss the way his eyes close as he can’t help but sniff the air as you pass by.

He has already composed himself by the time you look back at him, hands deep in his pockets, bulking up his groin area so his bulge isn’t too obvious to the eye.

He fails, egregiously.

You slam the door closed behind you, cheeks burning as his not-so-innocent face replays before your eyes again and again until you have to shove your fingers in your sockets to black out the image.

Jungkook, on the other hand, disappears into the guest bathroom and locks the door behind him, tugging his boxers down to his thighs and palming his growing length in his palm as he bites down on the bottom of his shirt to keep it out of the way. He is in front of the mirror, watching himself fondle his cock as you strip down in the bathroom, unaware of his all-seeing eye above you. You have your back to the camera, shucking off his sweater and folding it nicely on the sink. You’re so neat and clean, he thinks as his lips pull up in a tight smile. What he wouldn’t give to see the line of your neck so unobstructed in real life.

You slide his sweats down your thighs and they pool at the bottom of your legs, followed by his boxers. He lets out a hiss as more pre-come drips down his length, getting trapped in his fingers, turning his skin sticky and slick. He closes his eyes, imagining the scent of your hair. He can’t help but groan loudly, the sound of slick skin-on-skin and the jingle of his belt buckle adding to the symphony of his masturbation. Jungkook’s breathing becomes labored and sweat sticks to his temple.

How much longer, huh? How much fucking longer does he have to wait to have you? Can’t you see how pathetic he is for you already? How much further does he have to fall for you to believe he needs you, he craves you? How much deeper does your poison have to penetrate before you give into him?

You are showering behind the opaque curtain, but the light above highlights your beautiful silhouette as you lather your body with the scents he chose on a whim weeks ago. He damns himself for not picking something softer, more delicate, for you. You’d like that more, wouldn’t you? A gentler scent? Something floral or fruity? Something sweeter than the heavy notes of musk and ginger that he got used to.

Shit, he thinks. He’ll have to go shopping soon. You probably hate it.

His breathing perks up more once the shower is cut off, Jungkook having forced himself from splitting apart at the seams more than once when his fantasies of you became a little too much for him to handle. He feels it, ripping at his insides. His balls are heavy and tight, his toes clenched around nothing and his face is so red, he wonders how he is keeping himself upright. The steam has filled the room and it’s too overwhelming. Everything is overwhelming him.

Your soaked arm pokes out from behind the curtain and you grab the towel. He barely gets a peek of the slightly darker shade of your areola before he is crying out and shooting all over himself and the floor. Jungkook is breathing so heavily, he has to reach an arm out to keep himself upright, and his ears are ringing loud in his skull and his legs are shaking.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. How is he supposed to hold out when he sees the real thing if the sight of your nipples are enough to have him blowing his load so messily? He looks at his come-slick hand and frowns. He needs to work on his endurance.

He washes his hands quickly, knowing that even though both Jimin and Taehyung are in the living room, he still doesn’t want to leave you alone for too long.

What if you figure out something that he hasn’t thought of and escape?

Jungkook pulls open the bathroom door, red-faced but refreshed and sees both of his brothers staring, brows quirked and barely-restrained smirks on their faces.

Taehyung asks, a knowing look on his face that makes Jungkook enraged and embarrassed,  “You having fun in there, bunny?”

“Shut up!”

Jimin tacks on, lightly. “I hope you cleaned up.”

Jungkook shoulders past them, ears burning bright, and walks back into his bedroom, to see you curled up in bed with Bam under your chin. You look up, suddenly more alert even though you don’t stop petting Bam’s head and neck.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“It’s fine,” you respond, curtly, settling back into the sea of pillows you had made. “It’s your room.”

Our room, he barely stops himself from correcting, knowing it would put you in a bad mood.

“I’ll lay here,” he says, clearing his throat and sitting to the side of the door.

You lay down and turn onto your side, letting Bam curl into your side. Jungkook whistles once for his puppy, who responds and moves to his feet.

Jungkook plays with his eager dog’s ears and says, quietly, “Let YN sleep by herself tonight, okay?”

He watches you relax in increments.

Jungkook isn’t stupid, he can tell that you aren’t comfortable, but he doesn’t have it in him to leave you alone, especially at night, as it’s the only time he gets to look at you without seeing the revulsion in your expression. So he stays quiet and passes the time, watching you, imagining how things will be when you don’t hate his guts, and he thinks of melodies.

The other salvation that had kept him from ending his seemingly-meaningless existence all those years ago. Broken shards of sounds pieced together to create masterful pieces of music that he had fallen into, both eyes closed and his heart, for the first time since his mother left, open and bleeding.

Jungkook is long overdue to put a song together, so at around three in the morning, as you are lightly snoring in his bed, he gets onto his computer and slips his headphones on. He can’t keep his back to you for too long so he doesn’t get through a lot but by the time the sun comes up, he has compiled the bare bones for a new track he thinks the others might like.

He sends a copy to Namjoon, the manager of their little trio before cracking his knuckles and turning to face you fully.

Some miles away, Namjoon’s phone pings in the dark, ignored completely by the man dressed in all black, a rolled-up hundred in his hand as he takes another line of coke off of the svelte back of some faceless, nameless stripper in a dimly-lit room.

The tagline: I’ll own you

- end -