The whimpers you release from the first swipe of his tongue over your slit sends a wave of confidence to fill his chest. He never knew you would be so needy when he’s between your thighs, but you tremble beneath him from the desire, already so breathless as you beg him for more.
“Please,” falls from your lips accompanied by a whimper of his name, an airy breath shaking from your tongue as you speak. His eyes flick toward you, staring up at you from between your legs to see your lips parted and your eyes closed. Your bare chest heaves and your nipples are hard and aching in the moment, body already so worked up just from him only teasing you.
With a smirk, he gives you a taste of what you want while he takes a taste of you. His tongue darts out to slip between the folds of your plump, swollen pussy, so hot and wet and needing his touch. You gasp the moment his tongue brushes over your clit. Chuckling, another rush of warmth and desire floods him. He thinks you’re so cute when you’re desperately needy. You’re irresistible to him when you call his name and plead with him to make you come.
“What is it baby?” he taunts you with the question, and you begin to whine with a lick of your lips. Your thighs fall open as if you’re inviting him to have his way with you. Your hands reach for him, but all he does is take one of them in his own and leans closer to press his lips to your palm. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want to,” you exhale, rolling your hips as if you’re searching for his tongue to press against your body, “come.”
“Oh?” he laughs. “Want me to eat your pussy until you come on my tongue, baby?”
“Yes,” you gasp with desperation, chest heaving once again, as if the words alone could make you do just that. Satisfied with teasing you, he presses his mouth to your body, his tongue to your clit, leaving an open-mouthed kiss that drives you wild. His mouth is already so wet as you soak his flesh. You’re worked up, he feels the heat of your body when he presses his hands to your thighs. You moan his name and it sounds like heaven as he eats you out, massaging your clit, diving down to your entrance to taste your juices and swallowing every drop.
He continues to please you while listening to the beautiful noises you release. Gasps and moans fill the room, whimpers of curses beneath your breath follow. Your body trembles and your thighs attempt to close around his head. You’re growing close and he doesn’t dare pull away or stop, giving you the release you begged for, giving in to your needs because you’re even more irresistible to him when you’re coming undone.
He watches as you begin to spill over the edge. Your hips roll against him. Your face twists in pleasure, with your mouth falling open and a gasp slipping from your lips. He presses his tongue tighter to your body as you ride out the pleasure against his mouth, all before it’s suddenly too much and you’re whining once again. Teasing you, he flicks his tongue over your sensitive bud just to see you twitch, chuckling as you push him away gently and he crawls up your body to give you a kiss on the lips.
PAIRINGot7 x reader RATINGExplicit. 18+. GENREsmut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers. SUMMARYSix months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no? WC7.3k WARNINGS AND TAGS no gendered pronouns used to refer to reader. threesome. knife play. temperature and sensation play. jerking off. use of “yellow” safeword. multiple orgasms. blow job. come swallowing. creampie.
AN thank you so much to @vyduan@miscelunaaa@illneverrecoverand@hesperantha who all helped me piece together this chapter. writing group sex is always so mESSY logistically and i couldn’t have done it without them. i hope you all find something you enjoy in this chapter and i can’t wait to hear what you all think about it!
Namjoon wraps his hand in yours and smiles down at you.
He still has a raging boner propped up in his pajamas, but you do your best not to look at that, and instead focus your attention on his hands, his eyes. You lead him to one of the rec rooms, because, as he has insisted, “The bedroom is only for night time sleeping.”
While Namjoon flops on a large, fluffy couch, you pull out a handful of blankets from a chest and get to work carefully layering them over him.
“Are you tucking me in?”
“Of course I am, you gotta go night-night.” You both chuckle at that, but you notice the large circles beneath his eyes and a genuine wash of care flushes through you as you look at him.
When you’re done, he grips your hand a little too tightly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Joonie.” With a careful hand, you press his eyelids closed and watch as a peaceful smile flits across his lips. He looks so quiet like this. You tiptoe out of the room quietly, closing the door behind you without a sound. You find yourself wandering the halls aimlessly until they lead you to a familiar door. You press it open.
“Hobi?” You peer into his room. Your room? He’s hunched over the table in the corner, ostensibly at work.
“Hm?” Hoseok sits up and turns towards you. His eyes flash when they meet yours, as if to say Oh, it’s you.
You say the only thing you can think of.
“Do you want to go walking with me today?”
He looks at you for a long minute. “I’m a little busy. I’ve been slacking off at work. Have a big project I need to catch up on.”
“Oh.” So much for an opportunity to talk. Why is it so hard to pin this man down?
“Yeah.”
“Sorry for bothering you.”
Before you can go, he stands quickly and walks towards you. He walks with such a purpose you swear he is going to sweep you into his arms, and smother you with kisses. But he stops short, a distant look flickering over his gaze and he says: “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
And then he hugs you. Hugs you? You stand stiff in shock.
“Oh, okay,” is all you manage to choke out.
“I’ll see you at dinner,” he says, quickly turning back to his work.
You don’t.
“Want to try something new?” Yoongi asks as you’re clearing the table.
You nod eagerly.
“Please. I get tired of boring old missionary.” Truthfully though, you like missionary like you like bread and butter: a classic.
“You say that as if you haven’t been fucked upside down and sideways across this house.”
“A little more never hurt? Plus, we’ve barely even started.” You offer him a sheepish smile. Conversations like this have been feeling most comfortable with Yoongi. Maybe it’s your shared history. Maybe it’s him.
Yoongi grins at you. “How would you feel about mixing it up even more?”
“What do you mean?” you ask.
“I mean, throw in a challenge.”
“Tell me,” you say, leaning forward eagerly.
“If I can make you come within the first ten minutes, I can do whatever else I want with you the rest of the night.”
“Ha!” you scoff. “As if.”
“Are you saying I can’t make you come in less than ten minutes?”
You eye him. Yoongi was someone who had always took his sweet time when it came to sex. Sex with Yoongi was long, languorous. Sometimes even torturously so. It was all part of the delight of Yoongi. So no, he’d never made you come in ten minutes before, but that was because he never rushed your orgasms. He’d bring you to the edge a thousand times, just to finally throw you into free air and the thrill of flying at the most unexpected moment.
That was Yoongi.
Ten minutes though? This—this is not the Yoongi you know.
“Why ten minutes?”
“You said you’re getting tired. Let me tire you out in a different way.”
Everything is bathed in black. You can feel your hair, shifting slightly against your ears when you move your jaw or try to blink your eyes. As for sight, you have none, simply the blossoming shadows of light as it flickers across the room and sinks into the blindfold that Yoongi has carefully wrapped around your head.
The air kisses your bare body, like breath relishing against your skin, devouring anything exposed. In its place goosebumps rise.
You strain against the ropes tying you down. You’re in a spread position, on a bed, you think as the surface beneath you is plush and soft. Your hands are tied above your head, your legs spread. Leaving you more than exposed.
Yoongi had blindfolded you what feels like hours ago in the living room before spinning you around and leading you through the hallways to what you’re pretty sure is a bedroom. He had laid you down before gently wrapping cords around your arms and legs.
The room is now silent. It’s been silent for a long time.
“Yoongi?” you call. No response.
Yoongi disappeared a while ago, and you’re left waiting. You assume he’s gone to Namjoon’s room to do whatever he had promised earlier. The suspicion has your core warming. What will they do without you?
Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you think about what Yoongi has waiting for you on the other end of this long silence. Will he tease you endlessly, withholding touch from you, withholding himself from you? Will he take you, then and there, in whatever way he pleases? Your body tingles with excitement. But there, along the edge of it all, is the prickle of anxiety, the bitterness left on your tongue from your conversation with Hobi. Your mind spins around the incident, trying to puzzle apart his gaze, his words, his embrace.How can you hold all of it in one space?
You’re not sure how long you lie there, sensation burning intensely, before the door creaks open slowly.
“Look atthat,” a deep voice murmurs.You recognize it as Yoongi’s voice immediately. “All spread out, ready and willing.”
You shudder at his implication.
“What are you going to do?” you ask.
“Whatever I feel like,” Yoongi answers quickly, his voice moving closer. “That’s the rule tonight, right? If I can make you come, I can do as I please with you. And, you sure look ready to take anything I’m willing to give you.”
He’s right. After the building tension in the house, you’re desperate for release of any sort. You’re sure you won’t find it with the man at the center of your tension, and Yoongi’s bargain was so irresistibly tempting.
The weight of the bed beneath you dips and you find your body shifting slightly, adjusting to the new presence. Your hips buck up as the air moves around your nether regions, teasing you ever so slightly.
“Look at that. So needy.”
Yoongi’s voice sounds farther away than makes sense.
The weight on the bed shifts again and two hands come down on your thighs. You imagine him sitting between your legs, gaze roving hungrily over your body. The thought of it sends a shiver up your spine. He takes his time, moving slowly, letting his hands drift up and down the meat of your thighs.
It’s the simplest touch, but it has you yearning for more.
“Yoongi,” you cry. “Please.”
You wonder if this is how Jungkook felt. If this was what it was like to be tied up and held back from the thing you wanted most:
Touch.
“Let’s start with a nice little lick.”
Weird, that Yoongi is talking to himself like that, you think, a thought that is quickly interrupted by the sensation of the broad press of a tongue gliding against your lower lips.
“Good,” Yoongi says, and you can hear the cheeky grin in his words.
Slowly, he lathes at your clit, building a gentle but steady pattern. And then he slips two fingers within you and slowly begins massaging at that spongy spot within you. You cry out.
As your orgasm begins to bridge on the horizon, it’s clear to you what you’re going to do. It’d be a lie to say that you hadn’t thought for a moment about resisting the pleasure and holding yourself off from orgasming, just to spite Yoongi, just to win. But that was before he had entered the room. Before he had put his hands on you. Before your orgasm was so close you could almost taste it. And the reality is that you are desperate to be under Yoongi’s control, beneath his hands, beneath his intentional and mastered touch.
So you give yourself up.
This was never a game you had planned on losing, especially when you got to decide the rules for yourself. And the rules tonight look a lot like coming as many times as you can.
A grunt echos from in front of you at the same time that Yoongi speaks and that’s when you realize: Yoongi isn’t the only person in this room. And to add fuel to the fire, the man who has his fingers within you, well, he’s not Yoongi.
“Who—Who’s there?”
“I said I’d be the one making you come, but who said it had to be myfingers?”
And it’s the thought of not knowing whose tongue is on you, whose fingers are inside you that sends you over the edge the first time.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you curse, your hands fighting against the bonds that hold them down, desperate to grip onto something, anything. As the man continues to press his fingers into you at a steady but punishing pace, his tongue still roving over your clit, your back arches off of the mattress. You clench hard around his fingers, arousal dripping off of them.
He’s so silent though. Like he’s holding back, like he’s not allowed to speak.
A slight chuckle and then: “Eight minutes and twenty-seven seconds. Not bad.”
Your body is still humming from the orgasm, but Yoongi and the mystery man are already moving, already rearranging themselves in the room. And then there’s silence. Long silence. You gasp out Yoongi’s name but there’s no sound. You think they’ve left you alone.
That is, until you hear, “Here, take this,” and feel the soft edge of something light and breathy trace across the skin of your leg. You buck beneath the touch. It traces higher, dusting over your cunt, before drifting to your belly.
You guffaw. An unbecoming, snortish thing leaves your body in a rush.
“Oh my god, I—”
The feather, you think, travels higher and you can’t help it. You burst out laughing.
“Ah! I! Please!—Oh, god! Stop! It–it tickles so bad!”
“Well, maybe not that,” Yoongi grumbles and the touch vanishes. “Was supposed to be sexy. Not hilarious.”
There’s silence again, shifting around the room.
That is, until you feel the edge of something cold and hard run down the center of your chest. The laughter is still leaving you as your breath comes in cold shakes.
“Don’t move,” Yoongi commands, and there’s a serious note in his voice. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
You’ll hurt yourself? You twitch beneath the cold press, but then still. You realize. The sharpness. The edge. The smooth press against your skin. It’s a blade of some kind and someone is drawing down your body like it’s a pen and your skin the parchment, soaking up the ink.
The thought stills you: Yoongi or this mystery man, maybe both, choseto press the blade up against your skin, wantedto watch you writhe against the touch.
Beneath your belly button, the man who holds the knife presses in ever so slightly and you do your best to still the breath in your lungs. Fear prickles at the edge of your consciousness, but more than that is the sense of excitement. The threat of the blade tingled louder than your fear, and it sends sparks of energy shooting down your limbs. You feel more aware, more tuned in now than ever.
Suddenly the knife is pulled away from your skin. There’s the sound of what sounds like ice cubes tingling against glass, silence, and then the feeling of breath against your ear.
“You see, the trick to knife play isn’t actually the knife.” Yoongi whispers. “Some people, like you, it seems, get off on the fear of it all. The risk of having a blade to their skin. Some even like the pain when you press in—” he emphasizes his words by putting a hand on your abdomen, right beneath your ribs and pressing in, “—and watch the blood run.” You gasp.
“Yoongi, I—”
“Don’t you worry. I’m not interested in marking you up. Your skin is so pretty the way it is. But like I was saying, the trick to knife play has little to do with the knife. It’s all about the sensation.”
The tip of the blade presses to your pulse point, right beneath your ear.
“Thecold.”
The sensation of ice slices right through you. A dribble of ice water glides down your skin, cooling the heated surface. Whoever holds the knife traces the tip of it down your neck, across your throat, across your collarbones. Drawing out your body from atop.
Wherever the blade touches, you arch into the touch, even as you try to pull yourself back, pull yourself together. It’s like you’re magnetized, the blade leading your body forward. With the most painfully slow trail, the knife roves over your body, tracing in goosebumps across your skin. It freezes against the warmth of you, and you find yourself crying out.
With a carefully trained touch, the knife grazes over the outside of your lower lips before doing the same on the other side.
“Please—”
“No,” Yoongi says.
“Fuck you,” you gasp.
The knife returns to your throat, pressing lightly. A warning.
“You don’t want to hurt me,” you say, more for your sanity than anything.
“Of course not, doll. I don’t wantto.”The teasing lilt in Yoongi’s voice raises the goosebumps on your skin. “But you remember what we agreed to, don’t you? I can do whatever I please with you tonight.” And then he leans closer and whispers, “Color?”
“Green,” you say, “But please, please, give me more. I need more.”
“Like this?”
The blade is pressed, flat side to your clit and you cry out. The knife has warmed slightly to your body temperature, but not entirely. The coolness with which it graces your heated flesh sends a shock through your system.
“Is that what you wanted?”
“No, I want you to touch me.”
A whisper exchanged.
The knife withdrawn.
The clattering of metal against wood.
A body hovering over yours.
“You want touch?” Yoongi says. “Then take it.”
Then, lips at your collarbone, and a sudden coldness. Someone has ice in their mouth and is kissing down your torso. You have a distinct sense that it’s not Yoongi. Their kisses are quicker, rushed, as if there’s a sense the moment will end before it’s even begun.
Yoongi seems to notice this too. “Slow down,” he calls. “I want you to have to work for it.”
The kisses slow. Soon the motion becomes a slow suckling at your skin, a trading of tongue and ice cube, heat and frozenness. You gasp beneath his ministrations and a hand winds up to tangle in your own, fingers intertwining, a breath of shared intimacy.
“Mm, so needy and he’s barely even touching you.”
When was the last time someone held your hand like this?
The mystery man squeezes your palm, as if reassuring you. I’ll hold your hand. Don’t you worry. The reassurance of that moment feels familiar and you want to name that familiarity, maybe—
The only warning you have is the man breathing against your lower lips. The ice presses to your cunt and you cry out.
“Fuck!”
“Does it hurt?” Yoongi asks.
“I-uh—” It’s hard to string words together when the man between your legs is trading tongue and ice as he laves at your clit, sending pulsing sensations through your legs. “It’s hard to put into words—”
“I need you to try, baby. I wanna hear what you’re feeling.”
“It hurts,” you gasp, “In the best way possible. Like relief, and pain, mixed together—fuck—it tastes so much sweeter—goddamnit—mixed together.”
“That’s it,” Yoongi says, and you can hear the grin in his voice. You can hear the moan that’s on the edge of his tongue too, and by that sense, you have an idea that he’s standing at the foot of the bed with a full, unblemished view of you spread out beneath another man.
There’s the sound of slickness sliding over slickness and you gasp. The image of Yoongi standing at the foot of the bed, watching you beneath another, while he strokes his cock sends a shiver down your body and you visibly shudder, each sensation, each sound, heightened in the moment. What kind of pleasure does he get out of this, what kind of delight must he be feeling now?
The unnamed man worships at your cunt like it’s Sunday morning—and maybe it is, for all you know, you’ve been here for hours, tangled up in these men, their tongues, their touches.
You come once beneath the man’s tongue, then twice.
“Please, please,” you beg, after the waves of your third orgasm of the night subside enough for you to speak. “I can’t—it’s too much.”
“Is it though?” Yoongi croons. “You seemed so eager for each petite mort, what’s holding you back now?”
What’s holding you back now is that your body is ringing in pleasure in a way you can’t imagine. The man had continued to trade in fresh pieces of ice to press them against your clit before warming the sensitive bud up again with his heated tongue. And now your body is swimming in temperature confusion.
“It’s too much,” you gasp. “Just, just give me a moment.”
“But darling, we have such a full schedule,” Yoongi drawls, and you find a shiver running across your skin. He begins to say something else, but pauses, interrupting himself. “Buttercup, what’s your color?”
“Green?” It’s not a statement, it comes out as a question. You’re sure you can take more of this, but do you want to? “Yellow.”
Suddenly you feel a presence by your side and a body leaning closer.
“Thank you, Yoongi,” you whisper.
“Of course, anything you wish.” You can feelthe smile on his lips, warm and caring.
Yoongi loosens your ties ever so slightly, and prompts you to sit up. A body slides in behind you, large and enveloping. You’re sat between his legs, back to his chest, ass to his hardening dick. You have guesses about who it is, but you’re just not sure. The mystery sends goosebumps down your skin.
That’s when you feel a hand glide up your back. Thick fingers rake up the back of your neck and you find yourself reaching into the touch. Suddenly his fingers comb into your hair, tense, and clutch at the roots, yanking your head back. Your breath leaves your body with a gasp.
As your head rests on his shoulder, immobile, he doesn’t say anything, simply breathes against your neck, savoring the moment. You’re caught in his clutches and the thought heats you from the inside out.
“You want a turn?” Yoongi asks, his voice as smooth as silk in the darkness of the room in spite of his coarse words, as if he wasn’t just offering up your body, your cunt, to the other man. You don’t hear a response, but from what Yoongi says next, you understand: the mystery man has said no. “More for me, then,” Yoongi quips. A sense of shame, resentment even, washes over you. He doesn’t want to fuck you? You wonder if you’ve done something wrong.
Yoongi must see the pout on your face because he’s quick to cup your chin and lean in close. “Don’t you worry, doll. It’s nothing personal. Everyone has their preferences. Where. When. Who.”
That’s when you wonder if it’s Jin. That would explain the broad shoulders at your back—but then again, everything feels larger, more intense, just overwhelmingly morewith the blindfold on. Unsure of Jin’s sexuality, his preferences, you’re not even convinced he’s interested in someone like you. Maybe he doesn’t want to fuck you, and that’s okay, you tell yourself, even as the rejection stings sour in your chest.
But it’s almost as if the mystery man knows your thoughts, for he nuzzles his head into your neck, a low hum reverberating from his chest. It’s okay, he seems to be saying.
“Jin?”
No answer. As if to relieve your fears of undesirability, he shifts you in his arms and suddenly you feel the hard press of his cock against your ass, as if he’s reminding you just who he’s hard for.
“He’s hard,” you murmur out loud.
“Of course he’s hard,” Yoongi replies. “Why wouldn’t he be hard? He’s been waiting for this.”
Waiting for this. For whatever reason, you tuck that into your memory. Someone’s been waiting for you.
“It’s all a game, doll, don’t you see?” Yoongi whispers into your ear. You didn’t realize how close he was, pressed up against your body, so close but without touching. His proximity makes you jump. “And you’re at the center of it all.”
A hand travels down your torso.
“Who’s hand is this?” Yoongi asks.
“I-I don’t know,” you gasp as it tickles and travels lower.
“You couldn’t even tell that it wasn’t me sucking you off earlier, could you baby?” he chuckles darkly. “After all this time? You still don’t know my tongue?”
“All this time?” A second voice chimes in in a whisper, flabbergasted. You knowit’s the second person and you grapple for clarity on who spoke it, but all you find is the brusk brush of his whisper playing over and over, not enough of a voice to grasp onto the person behind the voice.
“Don’t worry about it,” Yoongi says quickly. “What did I tell you? About staying quiet? Do you really want to ruin this for you both?”
“I’m sorry, Yoongi!” You’re quick to say, eager to move on from this and into more, him touching you more, him fucking you more. No more of this teasing. “Just want—”
“Just want what? My cock? You want me to fuck you?”
You nod wearily, your head bobbing. “Please, please Yoongi.”
“Do you really think you’ve earned it? Do you think forgetting my tongue really means you deserve me? My cock? Hm?”
“Yoongi—” you say, and there’s a weariness to your voice. “I need you.”
The energy in the room shifts and Yoongi quiets. You feel like he’s taking you in, really considering you. And for a long moment, you’re sure he’s going to say no, that he’s going to turn you away. That familiar feeling of rejection begins to wash over you and suddenly you’re standing before Hoseok again, him saying again, You should sleep with someone else tonight, that far-off distance dancing in his eyes.
You take a shuddering breath.
But then Yoongi is moving, crawling over you, taking your face in his hands.
“How could I say no to you, baby?” Yoongi says, and though you can’t see his face you know him well enough to know his brows are pressing in concern. Then there’s a pause. “Are you okay?”
“I was worried you were going to say no, and mean it,” you say softly. The man holding you tightens his grasp around you, a readable I’m sorry, you shouldn’t feel that way.
“Gosh, babe, you know I only say no for your sake and for mine. To tease you. To play the game.”
“I know, I know, but…” You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “I’m in my head, ignore me.”
“I’m not going to ignore you,” Yoongi says firmly. “Not now, not ever.”
You want to melt at his words.
“Kiss me?” you ask, and you know he’s going to give you exactly what you want. It warms the part of you that aches still, it almost erases it.
“As you wish, buttercup.”
His lips press against yours and he sighs.
The yearning within you calls for him as if you hadn’t just kissed him the other morning, as if you aren’t actively kissing him now. Your hands, loosened from their ties, come to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. His tongue swipes against your lips and asks for entrance to your mouth. You let yourself open a little and his tongue slips inside, tracing against the roof of your mouth before retreating again.
That’s when you feel lips tracing against your neck, the man behind you joining in on Yoongi’s fun. Your eyes flutter as teeth graze against the sensitive skin of your neck, just enough sharpness to raise goosebumps on your skin and make you shudder.
Yoongi takes the opportunity of your distraction to bite down on your lower lip.
“I’d say eyes on me, baby, but you seem to be a little… otherwise tied up.” He laughs at his own joke.
The other man’s chest rumbles with laughter. You giggle.
“Bad joke, Yoongi.”
He slips two fingers inside your cunt and you gasp.
“Bad jokes don’t matter so much when you’re coming on my fingers, do they?”
“N-no, I guess not,” you say, your voice shaking as he begins a slow and steady pace. But there’s an intentionality to his movements as if he’s holding back from pounding into you in the way he wants.
This is all so new.
Yoongi never felt like he was hanging back. Yoongi never felt like he had anything tohold back. But now he’s gasping against your mouth, his cock hard against your thigh, his pace beginning to quicken. The contrast between his slow intentionality and this forced deliberation is clear. Whereas you’re used to his roving fingers, his easy going caresses, this is new, this is different. This is desire, clenched. This is something waiting to rip out of him.
“Let me make you feel,” he says, a note of brazen desperation in his voice. “Let me.”
And you realize that all this time, reliable, dependable Yoongi is here. Here, not only for his pleasure, getting off, whatever you want to call it. But here for you. For the streams of delight that pour through your body beneath his finger tips. For the sense of safety that he instills in your chest. And you know in that moment, that he knows he can do that for you, and that he tries.
“You,” Yoongi says, speaking to the man behind you. “Bring your fingers here.” He directs him to your clit. “Now, small, slow circles. Keep it steady.” And then to you: “I need you, I can’t wait any more, are you good, baby?”
“Yes,” you say. “God yes, please—”
And the head of his cock is at your entrance and he’s beginning to push inside you. Yoongi can’t help but let loose a groan and a shudder as he sinks into you. You’re tight around him, and so wet from the numerous orgasms and endless teasing.
He feels like heaven within you, finally fulfilling that endless ache that he had been stoking to a high heat all day long now. The dull ache that radiates through you each time he bottoms out in you is now rearing a different kind of heat. You push your hips towards him, eager for more.
It’s slow, sensual, the way he fucks you like this, like he’s taking his time. You’re used to that kind of fucking with him, but tonight there’s something different to it. An edge of sweetness. A throb of an ache.
Yearning.
As his hips grind into you, you can feel a kind of warmth building in your lower belly, rising to a high. But that same energy is building between you two, as Yoongi’s pace begins to pick up, begins to become more desperate. His hips begin to rut into you with more force, his head drops to the crook of your neck and he pants.
Yoongi is gaining speed, forcing your hips to move in time with his own. Against your ass, the man’s cock stands hard and at attention, and you can feel it growing harder as your ass grinds against him. The man behind you simply continues to hold you, to run his fingers over your clit so gently it has your hips bucking up against him. More, more, more.
The sound of skin slapping against skin intensifies as Yoongi pumps with even more energy. You can’t help yourself, between Yoongi’s pummeling hips and the man’s fingers against your clit your tightly wound ball of pleasure is quickly unraveling as your who-knows-what number orgasm washes over you.
“Yoongi, Yoongi,” you cry out, wishing there was a second name to add.
For a moment the world feels as if it’s underwater. Sounds deaden. Movements slow. The world darkens, as if it could really get any darker. You feel as if you’re moving through molasses.
Your hands wind around his back, looking for something to hold onto and you gasp into his ear.
“Yoongi, I—”
“What is it, babe?” He gasps, his hips unrelenting as they pound into you.
“Need you—”
“You have me.”
And that’s all you needed to hear.
Yoongi’s hips don’t still as he continues to pound into, and this time you let yourself sing in the hypersensitivity.
“Saved my come for you, didn’t you notice?”
“Hm?” You hum, holding on for dear life to your composure.
“Earlier. I could have fed it to Namjoon. Could have watched it spill onto his tongue and dribble down his chin. But I wanted to save it for you. Because while he was out there misbehaving, you were in here, being really really good. Isn’t that right?”
“Mhmm, Yoongi. So good.”
“So good for who?”
“So good for you.”You insist.
“Mmm, that’s right.”
“Yes,” you gasp. “You. Please—” At this point you’re unsure what you’re even begging for. Anything. Everything. Yoongi chuckles at your desperation.
“Begging for my come, huh, buttercup?”
“Anything, you, whatever—” you gasp.
“And what about our friend here? Do you want his come too?”
You gasp, “Yes, yes, please.”
“You have such nice manners when you’re desperate.”
The men around you begin to shift, Yoongi pulling out of you, the man behind you letting you gently to the pillows below and shifting beside you.
You reach out for the man next to you and draw your fingers over his face, trying to discern who he might be. When you find no luck in that, you let your fingers trail down his body, tangling in the hair above his cock—giving that a little tug—and then wrapping your hand around the base of his cock.
You squeeze his cock. Maybe a little too hard.
“Fuck,” the man growls.
You still. You know that word. That tonality. It was the same sound of frustration that your roommate uttered while trying to build ikea furniture, it was the same sound from the other night:
“Namjoon?”
Yoongi peels the mask off of you. Only the bedside light is on, but you find yourself blinking away the blinding brightness. Kneeling beside you is Namjoon, a sheepish grin on his features.
“I was a little offended that you thought I was Jin. But maybe it says something about how broad my shoulders are getting.” He rolls his shoulders to prove the point and you can’t help the smile that slips over your features.
It all makes sense now, his hesitancy to hold back. Or, you should say, it makes moresense. Picky, he had called himself, but you wondered if it were a little more complicated than that.
Namjoon’s still got his hand around his cock, his palm gliding up and down slowly but surely.
The desire that had been building for the mystery man seems to multiply tenfold now that you know who he is. You reach for him, cupping his face and pulling him down to you. He stumbles a little, falling over your body, but settling between your legs.
“Keep touching yourself,” you whisper. “I wanna see what it’s like when you get off.”
“You get blindfolded for a little bit and suddenly you’re so greedy.”
“I didn’t know what I was missing.”
You kiss him then, greedy lips meeting his quiet ones, greedy arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him to you, greedy legs spreading so he can settle between them properly.
There is a hunger in your kiss, as if you have been craving him for some time now, as if the taste of him is the only thing that will satisfy you now. He meets you with a slowly rising but equal enthusiasm. He adjusts to your eagerness, hands fumbling for you while trying not to let his weight crush you. It’s an awkward kiss, and leaves you yearning for more.
He doesn’t quite find his balance, so he pulls you up instead, the two of you kneeling before one another, breath coming hard. For a long moment, you stare at one another, taking in the other’s blown-out eyes, tousled hair, and little smirks. You feel as if you briefly mirror one another.
And then you’re reaching for one another again, the eagerness of it all near bursting, kissing one another ferociously. He bites down on your lower lip and you cry out at the mix of pain and pleasure. You claw your hands down his back and he arches into the touch. Your mouths mashing, it’s so easy to get lost in him, that for a moment, you do.
That is, until you feel Yoongi press up against your back. A shiver glides down your spine as he lets his hands wander over your ribcage, wandering down towards your hips, before sliding across your belly. With that, he presses his still hard dick to your ass. You can’t help but grind back against him.
“Bite his neck,” he whispers in your ear, his hands rubbing small circles over your body. “I think he’ll like it.”
You do as you’re told, reluctantly removing your lips from Namjoon’s and replacing them at his neck. You’re gentle, letting your teeth graze against the column of his broad neck.
“Leave a mark. Claimhim,” Yoongi commands, his grip on you tightening. The sensation of his language sends goosebumps across your body.
You press your teeth into the skin, not enough to break it but enough to leave a mark. He hisses. As retribution, you softly suck the mark, lips flowering and pressed to his skin. It’ll leave a hickey. A signal that he’s yours.
That he’s yours?
The thought surprises you. Do you want him to be yours? Do you want to have him like that? No, no, that goes against everything that this is meant to be.
He is not yours.
You are not his.
Simple as that.
Your thoughts are quickly redirected as you feel Namjoon’s cock bob against your stomach, brushing across Yoongi’s hands.
“I thought I told you to touch yourself,” you say.
He grins at you.
“Are you gonna make me?”
You frown at him and he’s quick to laugh.
“You don’t need to tell me twice.”
He takes your hand and slowly wraps it around his cock, his fingers weaving between your own.
“You want me to show you how I like to come?”
“Mhmm…”
“While Yoongi fucks you again?”
The two of them must have exchanged some kind of secretive and knowing look over your shoulder because Namjoon is two steps ahead of you as Yoongi pushes his cock between your dripping folds. He thrusts several times, collecting your essence on himself.
“Yes,” you gasp as the tip of his cock brushes over the sensitive bud of nerves at your clit. “I wanna watch you while Yoongi fucks me again.”
Namjoon wraps his hand around his cock with intentionality now, watching the way Yoongi glides his head down to suck at your neck, his cock twitching in his hand, a distant look in his eyes.
“Joon,” you call out to him, and his gaze snaps back to yours.
You wonder what he’s thinking. If he’s daydreaming about being the one at your back, the one with his cock up in you, the one fucking you and making you cry out. By the way his gaze roves over you, can’t imagine he doesn’t want you
Your thoughts are quickly derailed as you feel Yoongi press into you. You savor the moan that slips from your lips, your hand reaching back to tangle in his hair, to tug at it the way you know he likes.
As Namjoon begins to stroke himself, he bites his bottom lip as if to keep quiet. However, you reach over and untuck his lip.
“I want to hear you.”
“What?”
“I want to—fuck—” you curse on a particularly delicious thrust of Yoongi’s cock. “Hear you.”
The dark head of Namjoon’s cock pushes up through the rounded opening of his hand, the head bulging before it disappears back within his hand. He begins to match the pattern of his thrusts with the pattern that Yoongi fucks you at and for a moment, you imagine it’s Namjoon behind you instead.
You want to touch him. You want your hands all over him. But instead he’s two feet away, just outside of your reach.
You can hear the slick slide of his cock in his hand, the pre-come glazing the sensitive skin there. It’s obscene. It’s perfect. He groans out, just as Yoongi swivels his hips into you in a way that makes you go a little cross-eyed and the sounds of your mutual pleasure fill the room.
“Wish I was the one making you feel that good,” you gasp.
“Wish I were the one fucking you—”
Your eyes lock. And in that moment you wonder why he’s not, why he’s holding back from you. His mouth hangs open just enough that you can see the wetness of his tongue. He tucks his lip in as he bites down on the bottom swell and you reach for him again, your hand grasping onto his bicep, a meager attempt to be closer to him.
He shuffles forward, closer to you so that you can feel his hand gliding up and down his cock against your belly. He pushes into you, the tip of his cock pressing against your torso, the wetness staining your skin.
“Fuck, fuck,” Namjoon groans. “I’m so fucking close.”
You push lightly against his torso, motioning for him to scoot backwards. He does. Though you’re resentful that his cock leaves your belly, that his touch leaves your skin, you’re eager to have him in your mouth. Yoongi still on his knees and thrusting behind you, you lean forward, bracing your hands on the bed. You bend down so that you’re eye level with Namjoon’s dick, pausing to glance up at him for consent before you wrap your lips around him. He nods. You swallow down the head of his cock.
It’s quick work, working him towards his climax, his hips rutting into your mouth, his hand tangling in your hair, bringing you closer to him until his cock is all the way down your throat and your nose is pressed into the hair at the base of his cock. You choke around him and he releases you, hissing as you do.
“Fuck, I didn’t know you could do that.”
“I guess there’s a lot I haven’t shown you I could do,” you say slyly, sending him a wink.
He reddens at that and you know what he’s thinking about: you on his cock. Sex. You grin, and press your lips to his cock again, as Yoongi continues to move in and out of you at a lazy pace. Namjoon withdraws so only the tip remains within you, pursed between your lips. You’re the one now to press forward again, filling your own mouth with Namjoon’s cock.
It’s not long before his hand in your hair is tightening and he’s groaning out your name in the most delicious way. You want to make him say it like that a thousand times more.
He spills into your mouth with a muted fanfare. You can tell he’s still holding back, but you cling to the way his pleasure does break through. His hips trembling, his cock pulsing in your mouth, his jaw clenching.
And then what he does next surprises you.
“Open,” he says, tilting your head back as he pulls his cock out of your mouth. “Let me see.”
You open your mouth, his seed filling your mouth. You do your best not to let it dribble, but some of it does spill out the side of your mouth. He presses his thumb to the spill and wipes it on your lower lip.
“Fuck that’s hot,” Yoongi hisses.
“Now, swallow.”
His eyes never leave yours.
Who would’ve thought that come swallowing could be so intimate?
You do as he’s said, the bitter, saltiness of him slipping down your throat. He grins.
“You gonna make me come too now?” Yoongi says, wrapping his hand around your neck ever so lightly and bringing you up so your back is pressed to his chest. “You gonna let me come in that pretty cunt of yours?”
Now that he has your full attention back on him, Yoongi’s thrusts become demanding, asking for your attention, your time, your energy. You whine as his pace picks up, his cock pushing even deeper into you. Yoongi is fucking a spot within you that makes your jaw go slack, your mind go black. It’s clear: the man is nearing his orgasm, the little grunts he lets out and the way his breath shudders against your neck giving him away.
He slams his hips into you as if he’s trying to make you cry out, as if he’s trying to make up for all of the months that he couldn’t hear your pretty voice crooning on his cock.
When he comes, you imagine you can see him inside you, twitching as your friend fills you up in spurts and streams, your hand roving down to press on your belly where he lies within you. Something about the thought is enough to push you over the edge too, and you tip forward, Namjoon catching you, as you come too, your cunt pulsing around Yoongi.
“Holy shit,” Yoongi curses, coming to wrap around you. You’re sandwiched between the two men, warmth radiating everywhere, the both of them more or less holding you up.
Yoongi reluctantly pulls out of you.
“Again?” you murmur.
“I think that’s enough for one night.”
“Hm,” you hum, your fingers reaching out to hold onto someone, anyone, as you’re let softly down into the bed.
“I’ll hop into the shower with this come-filled mess,” Yoongi says affectionately. “If you’ll change the sheets?”
Namjoon nods. “Yeah, of course.”
“This is the third time,” you say as Yoongi turns on the steaming water. “I’d think you have a kink or something at this point.”
“Maybe I do,” Yoongi grins. “Now turn around and let me wash you down.”
He takes what feels like extra care with you tonight before wrapping you in the fluffiest of robes and leading you back to the bedroom where Namjoon is already snoring.
“Where will I sleep?” You say, fear filling your throat.
“Here. With us. Of course.” Yoongi takes your hand and pulls you to the bed.
You settle in between their bodies, Yoongi tucked into your front, Namjoon spooning your back. For a moment, you let your gaze wander the room.
On the bedside table lie a glass of melting ice, the blindfold, and one of Jungkook’s weeb swords.
THANK YOU FOR READING!if you enjoyed this, please consider telling me what you think by leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! i love chatting with you all!want to read morestories?
Do you remember? the heat of summer? you said forever
pairing:fuckboy!jk × reader
genre:college!au, fwb!au, angst, smut
rating:18+
warning:fuckboy!jk(this should be a warning.), angst. HEAVY FUCKING ANGST. lots of drama, toxic relationships, manipulation, tons of drinking and parties, drugs, toxic friendships, anxiety, panick attacks, explicit smut, everyone is an asshole. crying, throwing ups, making bad decisions, regretting said bad decisions, oc being impulsive, misunderstanding, lots of arguing and fights, physical fights. brief fluff.
synopsis:just like the moon changes it’s phases, you see jungkook change himself. but unlike the moon, you don’t see him come back to the way he was before.
do you remember? the heat of summer? you said forever.
pairing:fuckboy!jk × reader
genre:college!au, fwb!au, angst, smut
rating:18+
warnings:public fingering, use of the word slut. Jungkook is a real asshole here. manipulation, hickeys.
wordcount:2k
a/n:finally. it’s here. after so much anticipation, nineteen is here!!!! this chapter is short but i promise the next chapters are gonna be longer. shits bout to gown down bitches. also, the last part after summer 2019, guess where that is from?
To say you were not surprised would be an understatement. You’ve known him for two years and in these two years you’ve known a lot. But you couldn’t say it didn’t hurt. It did. It hurt a lot. Everytime you saw him going around the campus, the girls in him arms parading around, showing everyone they won “the heartthrob”.
Everyone knew Jungkook was the biggest fuckboy on campus. But that didn’t stop anyone from wanting to get laid by him. And that didn’t stop you from having a sour taste on your tongue. You knew you didn’t have the right to have a ‘sour taste’. Not when he wasn’t yours by any means. Even if he’s told you that he is in fact yours.
When you felt a sting in your lower lips and the taste of iron sat on your tongue, you realized you’ve been biting your lips. A very bad habit you acquired after getting to know Jungkook. The back of your eyes stung as you turned around and excused yourself, not before letting Jungkook see you. You swear you saw his eyes glint when he saw you, but that didn’t stop him from leaning down and grazing his teeths along the ear of the girl he was with.
“Having fun, Y/N?” Sol passed you a plastic cup, which you took with all the enthusiasm left in you. “Yeah” you chuckled humorlessly. Sol frowned at your response and then nudged you, eyes focused behind you. “Looks like someone’s looking for you."
You turned around and your breath got stuck at your throat. He wore a black silk top paired with black jeans. Hair messy and sitting on his neck were the purple-bluish bruises that you gave him 4 hours back, when you rode him in your robe while he clicked your pictures. A smile graced your face automatically, at him or the hickeys, you didn’t know.
He pulled you by your waist, body flush against his, as you felt your boobs press against his chest, the thin silk material of the dress you wore and his shirt not helping. "I missed you,” he murmured, “you’ve been biting your lips."
"You saw me a few hours ago, Kook.” you said, hands pressed against his chest. “I missed my girl” he said, voice low but you could still hear him through the blaring music.
His tongue swiped across your bottom lip, doing a double over your fresh cut as a sting shot through. He pulled your lips between his teeth and sucked on it like a baby sucking milk, all while maintaining eye contact. He left your lower lip before pulling you in for an actual kiss. His hands held your waist as he rubbed his thumbs in a circular motion.
“I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” he said, mouth next to your ear. Pressing a kiss on your right cheek, he left. And just like that, you forgot that he was the reason you were lying to everyone. Yourself and him included.
“Hi babe” Yura hugged you from behind, before sitting in front of you. “Yoongi was looking for you.” you said, a knowing smile on your face as Yura’s face turned a bright shade of red. “You should just confess, you know? I mean judging by the way he’s always looking for you, man’s not gonna reject you babe."
"You know what? Maybe I will. Yes. I will. Today.” she stated with a newfound confidence. You laughed at the way her face changed. “Yeah? While you’re at it, tell that asshole to bring me my headphones back."
You felt your phone vibrate as you took it out of your pocket.
kook <3: you free tonight?
you: no. have plans :(
kook <3: oh. with?
you: wouldn’t you like to know?
kook <3: come on im just asking
you: taeyeon
kook <3: you know i can fuck you better right?
you: are you serious right now?
kook <3: you’re meeting him at night right?
you: oh my god jungkook
kook <3: ykw? forget i asked. have fun.
You groaned lowly, rubbing your face. All you felt was rage. Who did he think he was, telling you what to do and what not to? After he walks around campus proudly knowing his reputation? After he encourages the girls who are lined up for him to be there? Maybe you should actually fuck Taeyeon. He was cute. You heard he had a big dick. So where’s the problem?
You put on the lip gloss and checked yourself out at the mirror. The notification on your phone indicated that Taeyeon was waiting. Putting your heels on, you grabbed your keys and made your way out.
You wore the flowy black dress that had been sitting at your closet for the longest time. Most of the times, when you’re out with Jungkook, you go with pants, jeans or shorts, knowing fully well that a dress would not help you on the back of his ducati.
"Wow” Taeyeon breathed as you walked towards him. The minute your eyes shifted from him, your eyes scrunched before your face morphed into a frown. Maybe the dress was a bad choice after all. There stood Taeyeon, on his bike. Next to him stood a couple of guys, whom you recognized were from your campus. But amongst them, you saw him.
“Hey, I’m so sorry I forgot to inform you, but the guys wanted to go to the club. So I figured we could go there as well.” Taeyeon said, sensing your frown. You smiled and walked up to him, placing a peck on his cheek.
From the corner of your eyes, you could see Jungkook poking his cheek with his tongue, eyes staring right back at you. “Uh, how do I get on tho?” you asked, looking at his seat.
“Y/N can come with me.” you heard that oh, so, familiar, voice. “You have to pick up some stuff too, right Taeyeon? I don’t think Y/N can sit with all that.” he continued.
“Yeah, he’s right. Y/N why don’t you go with him? It’d be a problem for you to sit with the stuff here.” Taeyeon said, eyes apologetic.
“That’s fine.” you smiled sweetly at him, although you felt anything but that.
You made your way towards Jungkook, who leaned smugly against his bike. “I guess you’re back to me afterall.” he said, the smirk not leaving his face.
You rolled your eyes and got on his bike, legs either side with your dress scrunched up in the middle. Jungkook handed you a stole which you recognized as yours that you used to wrap around his neck when he was sick and still riding his bike.
“Why did you bring this?” you asked, taking the stole from his hand. “Knew you’d need it."
Before you could speak he grabbed your hands and wrapped it around his torso making you lean on him due to the high seat of his bike. A familiar feeling hit you when he revved up the engine followed by that familiar disappointment of knowing how many girls have done this.
You really were ruining yourself.
As the wind hit you, you felt free. You always did. Jungkook knew how much you loved the bike rides. He started taking you on them more after he learned about your love for rush and thrill. Halfway through the ride you realised that you were not on the way to the club but to a different direction. A road you knew too well.
"Where are we going?” you asked, voice loud so that he could hear you. When you didn’t hear him back you drew his name out “Jungkook."
"Shh.” he said, holding your wrists and pulling you more towards him.
He parked his bike next to a tree and then intertwined your fingers together. You liked to think you had Jungkook all figured out but times like these, when he acted as if you’re the only girl he looked at, as if he wasn’t fucking some other girl a few hours back, you thoughts are proven wrong.
He wrapped his arms around your torso and rested his chin on your shoulder, your back pressed against his front as he walked you both towards the edge of the park, tiny twinkling lights of the entire city in front of you.
“What are you doing, Kook?” you whispered , bur he hears it anyway.
You feel his breath on your neck. “You know, I hate how you run away from me.” You could scoff at the irony, but you wouldn’t want to ruin the comfortable environment. “Why do you hate it? I’m always there.” you say lowly.
“I know, baby. So am I. Always there for you. Always will be."
Tears welled up in your eyes but before they could spill Jungkook turned you around and pulled you in for a kiss. The tears fell anyways. Slowly dragged down. Jungkook wiped them using his thumb.
Times like these, you wished he meant all his promises.
He turned you around to your previous position, leaning to leave wet kisses down your neck. His hands traveled the expanse of your chest, one hand catching the hold of a breast while the other reached down to cup your sex.
"Tsk, so wet.” his hand went further down as he pushed your panties aside and drew a long line on your wet slit. “You were gonna sit with these soaked panties behind him?” he asked lowly, voice dropping several octaves. “Answer me.”
“Y-yeah”
“Yeah?” he pinched your clit, as a loud groan left your throat. He pushed two of his finger inside, slowly scissoring them. Your hands reached up to his hair, pulling the roots and he continued to suck on your neck. “You like it?” he asked.
“Mhmm. Want mo-more.”
“Such a dirty little slut.” his finger picked up its pace as you pressed your thighs together. “For you. Just for you.” you said, voice sound nothing more than a breath.
As you felt your climax hitting you, your body collapsed on his, as he wrapped his hand around your waist, the other one still inside your panties, fingers deep in. You both looked towards the city, wishing you could stay like this forever.
“Just for me.” he said, thumbs circling your clit as you closed your eyes, a second hit of tears coming in.
You were maybe crying too much nowadays.
You both went back shortly after. You got down his bike, the slick feeling inside your thighs making you feel uncomfortable. He gave you a smile, bunny teeths popping out, hair messy and your underwear peeking out his back pocket. You hands reached out to fix his hair as he closed his eyes and leaned to your touch.
“I’ll see you in a bit yeah?”
Except you didn’t. You went back to your apartment. When you scrolled through your phone, snap stories of his friends, where you saw him with some girl on his lap as she giggled. You knew you were not going to see him in a bit. You would, but that would be somewhere around 4 in the morning, when he would knock too loudly at your door, drunk. His friends would tell you he gave your address. You would usher him inside quickly, hoping not to wake the neighbours up.
He would smell of some cheap sweet perfume, the smell would make you want to vomit. He would guide himself to your room, take out his clothes from your closet and put them on. Settle himself between your covers and then pull you on his lap. Kiss you like his life depended on it. Sneak his hands under your shirt and play with your boobs and you would sit on his lap. He would tell you how you were the only one.
You knew it all to well. It was a routine. He was your habit just as much as you were.
You wondered how you reached this place.
Summer 2019
“Fuck!"
You were in the wrong building, on the wrong campus. And not only that, you were late. To your first day of uni. Sure you let yourself sleep 10mins more in the morning. But you didn’t know it was gonna result in you being late.
lmk what you think! and feel free to send ask or comment down if you want to be tagged. your thoughts on the ch would be appreciated!
warning:fuckboy!jk(this should be a warning.), angst. HEAVY FUCKING ANGST. lots of drama, toxic relationships, manipulation, tons of drinking and parties, drugs, toxic friendships, anxiety, panick attacks, explicit smut, everyone is an asshole. crying, throwing ups, making bad decisions, regretting said bad decisions, oc being impulsive, misunderstanding, lots of arguing and fights, physical fights. brief fluff.
(more to be added. each chapter has individual warnings)
synopsis:just like the moon changes it’s phases, you see jungkook change himself. but unlike the moon, you don’t see him come back to the way he was before.
— Do you remember? The heat of summer? You said forvever.
warning:fuckboy!jk(this should be a warning.), angst. HEAVY FUCKING ANGST. lots of drama, toxic relationships, manipulation, tons of drinking and parties, drugs, toxic friendships, anxiety, panick attacks, explicit smut, everyone is an asshole. crying, throwing ups, making bad decisions, regretting said bad decisions, oc being impulsive, misunderstanding, lots of arguing and fights, physical fights. brief fluff.
(more to be added. each chapter has individual warnings)
synopsis:just like the moon changes it’s phases, you see jungkook change himself. but unlike the moon, you don’t see him come back to the way he was before.
— Do you remember? The heat of summer? You said forvever.
You were in the wrong building, on the wrong campus. And not only that, you were late. To your first day of uni. Sure you let yourself sleep 10mins more in the morning. But you didn’t know it was gonna result in you being late.
You scurried across the campus, trying to keep your books together. As you practically sprinted, you saw someone come your way. You tried to stop yourself, but before you knew it, you collided with what felt like a hard surface. And then a harder surface. Oh god, why was this happening?
You squinted your eyes open, ready to brace yourself of the situation that was about to unfold. Your books scattered all around, forms lying in different directions, your bag somewhere along with the rest and in the midst was a human.
A big human. Not a hulk sized human but definitely built and taller than you human.
For a minute you stood there, looking at the mess in front of you. Your eyes shifted to you watch, which you hoped wasn’t cracked.
11:26am
SHIT
You scrambled your way towards your forms, which looked like they were one minute away from flying away and bidding you goodbye. You picked them up, hurriedly, not even paying attention to the grunts that was coming from the human who was still lying on the ground.
“Can you, maybe, help me up?” a male voice grunted. A very smooth malevoice.You did not have time for this.
“Sorry, but I’m in a hurry. Can you maybe help me collect my things?"
"I would love to but you decided to knock my down” he said, voice sounding a little closer.
You turned around to watch him pat the rolled up sleeves on his right arm, tattoos running all over the exposed part and getting hidden under the sleeves.
“You look fine.” you said, then looked at his face.
Damn
You sucked in a breath, the little action seen by him. A smirk played on his face, as he bent down to pick up your books. Keep it together, Y/N
You wordlessly turned around, gathering all the forms and your bag. “Thanks…..” you said, looking at him as he handed you your books back.
“Jungkook”
“Thanks, Jungkook."
You looked at your watch, hoping not too much time passed between this.
11:28am
fuck. FUCK!
You widened your eyes, looking at him once, and then dashed. A breathy laugh left his mouth as he watched you run away.
The first girl, Jungkook didn’t flirt with on the first interaction
-
You kind of expected the office lady to yell at you for being thirty-five minutes late. Albeit, you did explain to her how you got lost, she was definitely not having it. What you didn’t expect was for her to assign you to bring a whole bunch of paper, which you had no idea where to bring from. Yes, she did give you a name but you were sure in a campus this big, you were gonna get lost again.
Fortunately, you met a girl on the way of you loosing your mind. When you explained to her, which she didn’t understand at first, she said she’d help you with the papers.
"How are you joining this late?” Yura asked you.
“It was a late admission. I just came back from the States three days ago.” you struggled to keep up with the heavy stack of paper which you were now carrying back to the main office. “Why does she need so many paper?” you huffed, gesturing to the stack which you both had.
“I don’t know man.” Yura laughed. “So you’re from the States?"
"Oh, no. I was there for a long time but I’m definitely not from the US.”
“Yeah, you look too Asian.” she deadpanned.
You smiled, ready to say I know. But before you knew, you hit a hard surface yet again. “Oh for fuck’s sake!!” you groaned.
Today was definitely not your day, you concluded. You got up, ready to yell at whoever you bumped at. “I’m so sorry!!"
You looked up to see a blonde guy. A very pretty blonde guy. Doesn’t matter "Oh my god! Y/N, you okay?” Yura hurried towards you. “No, I’m not!” you glared at the boy who looked at you with wide eyes, before bending down to pick up the papers.
“Oh, Hi Chim!” Yura said, finally acknowledging the guy.
“You know him?” you kept glaring at Chim? That’s his name?
“Yeah. He’s a friend.” she said, looking between you and him.
“Hi, I’m Jimin,” he held out his hand and that’s when you realized that you were still on the ground. You rolled your eyes but still took his hand, letting him pull you up. “Why don’t I help you girl’s carry these,” he paused to look at the paper, eyeing them in confusion, “to wherever the fuck you’re taking them.”
“Y-”
“Where are you taking them?” he interrupted, looking at you both weirdly.
“To the main office. Don’t ask.” Yura stopped him before he could continue.
“Okay. Main office it is.” he said, taking half from your stack and half from Yura’s.
The three of you walked back to the office, getting scolded by the office lady again. Maybe she was having a bad day too.
“Why don’t we go to eat something?” Jimin suggested. He looked at you, “I’ll pay. Make up for all that” he gestured his hands in the air.
“Sure.” you didn’t have the energy to argue honestly. And your stomach was growling, so why not!
“Hey guys! Meet Y/N.” Jimin yelled from a distance to a group of people. A big group.
“They cannot hear you, dumbass” you flicked his head.
“Ow!"
"That’s for making me fall.” you said looking forward.
“What were you yelling, dude?” a guy with deep voice asked, looking at you first and then Jimin. “You both are late.” he pointed at both Jimin and Yura then.
“I was saying, Meet Y/N, guys. I knocked her down.” he said.
A few whistling sounds were heard along with oohs. “Hey!” you exclaimed.
“Not that knocked. Knocked as in she fell because of me. It was hilarious” he concluded earning another flick from you.
“You fell again,huh?"
That voice. That smooth fucking voice. You knew that voice.
"You.” you turned around, to find him on a bike. A black matte Ducati to be precise. He winked at you before continuing “Sorry Hyung, but I knocked her up first."
You stared at him as he finished his sentence, not taking his eyes off of you once.
"Okay,” One of them said, breaking the tension. “Let’s go. I’m hungry."
"Jungkook, take someone with you. You have an empty seat” a short guy, with a deep voice, (what’s with them being so good-looking and having such nice voices?) pointed at him
“Where are we going?” you looked at Yura for an explanation.
“You’ll see!” one of the guys said. “I’m Seokjin, by the way.”
“Oh, hi.” you said looking at him. “Now let’s go!” he said, grabbing a hold of your wrist and pulling you towards a car, where the others got in.
“I think I’ll take her, hyung.” you saw Jungkook’s bike in front of you, before you saw him. “Well, suit yourself. Hold him tightly Y/N, he drives real fast.” and with that Seokjin got in the car.
You looked at Yura and you saw something of a concern in her face before she quickly masked it with a smile.
“Hop on, Princess.”
“You promise you won’t kill me?” you asked, holding the back of his shoulders and hoisting yourself up on his bike. “Not if it makes you hold me.” he said, head sidewards looking at you, face mere inches away from yours, as you by default leaned towards him due to the high seat.
“I didn’t catch your name, yet.” he said, hot breath fanning your lips.
“Sure you did.” you murmured.
“Yes, I did. But I wanna hear you say it."
"Y/N."
"Y/N.” the words rolled off his tongue smoothly, and that’s the first time you felt an ache in your chest. You weren’t sure why you felt it, but you knew it wasn’t going to be the last time.
