Ateez And Their Favorite Sex Positions + Explained

ateez and their favorite sex positions + explained

yunho, jongho: reverse cowgirl - ok hear me out, imagine yunho guiding the movements of your ass with his huge right hand as you bounce on his dick while you look back over your shoulders to watch his expressions. he thinks its so hot to watch you performing on top of him that you almost can see the sparkles on his eyes. he tends to let you ride him like this when he knows you had a long ass day at work/college and you need to take the stress out of you, so he offers his dick for you to do whatever you want because he just wanna make you feel good. on the other side, jongho also LOVES this position since he can watch your curves. his favorite body part on you is your thighs and the tattoos on it so every time he has the chance to see them bouncing on his dick he’ll take it. he’ll just relax his head on his hands and bite his lips while enjoying his girl. and you also love his thick thighs so you two are even. phew… he’s so fucking hot…

yeosang, mingi: on top - yeosang loves leaving love bites on your neck and squeezing your waist while you ride him. out of all the girls he has dated in his life you’re definitely the only one who knows how to ride him RIGHT. because let’s be honest, my man’s got a big dick and you can take 100% of him and that’s one of the numerous reasons he fell in love with you at the first place. you kinda got the sauce. he also loves to feel your sweet vanilla cherry scent, he thinks is very sexy so be careful because sometimes he can get drunk of you! he just place his face in the crook of your neck as you ride him and he just closes his eyes and stays there, also guiding your hips, like yunho, but by the waist. okay and mingi….. well mingi is something else ELSE he completely loves sucking on your nipples when you’re on top of him, hands on your ass spanking every now and then to remind you he’s the only one in the world who can bottom you out like that. he kinda asserts some dominance without even noticing and you can’t help it but call out his name every time you go up and down his dick. also, has a huge size kink.

san: BACKSHOTS - 6 words. on the way by jhené aiko. this song is SO choi san coded, every time i hear that “booty clapping from the backshots while we watch porn on the laptop” verse san’s the first person that comes to my mind. we know he loves a big thick curvy ass that he can spanks whenever he pleases. also “inhale the smoke while you stroke inside it” makes me literally malfunction since my biggest guilt pleasure is san getting high and passing the blunt to you while he breaks your back. if i could dedicate one song to one man it would be on the way to san because oh my god i could spend hours talking about this topic but ima stop before i pass out.

seonghwa: face off - we all know seonghwa’s the romantic type… but also the freak type. he likes it when you two are seated at the end of the bed or on the couch or even on the kitchen chair and have you like this, on top of him and facing him. as i said, when you’re fucking in the kitchen, for example, he usually put his elbow on the table behind him and expect you to ride his dick but sometimes it can get a little bit hard for you to keep a steady pace in this position so he loses his patience and quickly switch positions. you’re now laying on the kitchen counter. we also know he’s a worshipper, so he’ll make you feel so loved in his arms even tho he’s fucking the soul out of you. well, love and affection is something you’ll always receive when it comes to having a relationship with seonghwa whether is fwb, dating or even a marriage… but he’ll also fuck you HARD and when i say hard i MEAN IT because we’re talking about a fucking aries here and as an aries myself i know exactly what goes on on his mind when it comes to sex.

hongjoong: missionary - still talking about zodiac signs, for those who don’t know, hongjoong’s a scorpio and girl let me tell you about scorpios… ma’am they are another type of freak, like, they literally invented freak, to me they are sex gods. and even tho this is a common sex position doesn’t mean hongjoong will make it ordinary. he’s very possessive so he wants to make sure that you know you’re HIS and his only and he does that by pinning both of your wrists with one hand while he chokes your neck with the other. sex with him is always pleasurable, he’ll satisfy you 200% of the time, overwhelm you even. but you can’t never get enough of him. also, he likes to hear it when you say that your pussy is his for him to please and your body is his for him to touch and that you belong to him. his moto in bed is saying that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you because he couldn’t stand the thought of somebody else touching your body. i love hongjoong so much.

wooyoung: spoon - OK… i see wooyoung fucking you in a spoon position and it can be any type, with your leg up, down, kissing your neck, grabbing your breasts, chocking you, biting your lobe teasing you, but as long as it is in a spoon position. ooooh he loves the way you bite your bottom lip and do that crying expression with your eyebrows when you tell him to slow down and he just gives you a sassy smirk and says nothing but starts fucking you ROUGHER. you can barely open your eyes to look at his hungry eyes looking back at you because it’s ROLLING with pleasure. all you can do is whine and not even when he cums he’ll stop, he likes overstimulating you AND him.

OUTLAW (27)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: This chapter deals with arguments with parents about lifestyle. There is also a panic attack. Viewer discretion is advised.

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz). Thank you for all the birthday wishes and the comments. I love them so much! They always make my day.

The following day was a nice one. In a sense that not only was the weather perfect but also because Yunho had come to tell everyone that they would be able to head back to Cromer. They weren’t going to be able to stay in the same camp, however they would be much closer to civilization.

“I missed so many things that came with being so close to towns.” Wooyoung grinned, coming to a stand with his hands on his hips. “Like actual good food.”

They had been setting up the camp once more–taking care of the horses as well as unpacking the wagon. 

“We still can't go into town.” Hongjoong sighed. “We have to avoid the hotel for now.” He gave you a regretful look, which you nodded to.

“I think you can pass for normal citizens.” You explained to him. 

His eyebrows quickly pinched together, looking at you oddly. “How?” He questioned. 

“I don't know if you've noticed, but the way you dress makes it painfully obvious who you are.” You pursed your lips. 

Mingi stood up straight, looking down at you with a deep frown on his face. Your lips trembled from how kicked down he looked. “What's wrong with how I dress?” He smothered down the leather vest.

“Nothing, Mings.” You cooed. “You look amazing.” His smile returned, but you continued anyway. “However, it does draw attention because of how the artists drew you. I'll find clothing for you both to blend in. I'm sure they won't notice.”

Hongjoong took a moment to think it over, before nodding his head. “We'll give it a try.”

“Let's head back to the hotel.” Yunho spoke up, placing a hand on your lower back. 

You gave the boys smiles and hugs goodbye. Wooyoung took the moment to swing you around with a giggle. You laughed and when he put you down he told you everything was going to be okay followed by a kiss to your head.

The others gave you the same treatment. Telling you not to worry too much, but all it seemed to do was remind you of your parents. As you rode behind Yunho, he felt you sigh against his back and lean your head forward. 

“ Hey, are you okay, Angel?” Yunho asked you from over his shoulder.

“I left the house without telling my parents where I was. I'm sure they are beyond angry.” You sighed. 

“Or worried. Maybe they'll be scared.” The tall man tried to console you.

“Either way, I left them without a word.” You saw your house come into view, only causing a large bout of anxiety to enter your chest. 

Yunho helped you down the horse, dropping you off near the entrance of the fencing. “We won’t be far. Not until we know you’ll be fine.” Yunho told you. 

You glanced back at the others, nodding your head in thanks. As you turned to look at your home, tears began to well in your eyes as you thought about how everything was about to go down. Taking a deep breath, you climbed up the stairs, heading to the front door. 

You found your mother cleaning up the dining room, her body sluggish. Her hands were trembling as she tried her best to keep from having plates fall. When your feet scuffed against the floorboards, she looked up a bit startled. 

When she saw you in the dining room entrance, all the plates she tried her best to not drop shattered onto the floor. “(Y/N)!? Oh, my baby.” She screamed, running towards you.

You flinched as she brought you into a strong hug, the water finally dropping from your lids. As you and your mother cried into each other, the rest of your family ran into the room from the screaming. 

“Where were you!? I was so worried.” She wailed, pushing you away to pat down your hair and look over your face. “How could you leave us like that for days? You didn't think about how we felt, did you?”

The guilt had finally settled in and was eating away at you like a rabid dog. Not only did you feel sad about leaving the way you did, but you also felt bad about the way things went with your family. They had every right to be upset with you, but you did as well. You were here to fix that, not start thinking you were the bad guy. 

“I'm sorry, mom.” You choked out.

“You're sorry? That's all you have to say?” You gasped, hugging your mother closer as your father’s screams hit your ears. “We sent out search parties for you! We called in the police! You were gone, (Y/N). We assumed the worst!” He had tears in his eyes, but he was furious with the way he spoke to you.

“I know. I know what I did.” You tried to explain yourself. “And I'm sorry! It hurt me so much thinking about what you all thought.” You cried. 

“You’re hurt?” Your mother frowned. “How do you think it was for us?” She whimpered. . 

“I'm sorry, Mom.” You turned to hug her. “But please, you have to understand-”

“Understand what?” Your father continued to scream. “That you were selfish!?” 

Your body began to tremble as your knees knocked together; glancing at your siblings behind your father. Your oldest brother was quick to pull the younger ones away from the scene, giving you a worried look. 

“We know you were with those men.” Your father sneered. “Yeosang, the cops. None of them were in the hotel.”

It was starting to get hard to breathe, which you found to be a problem as you started to choke. “No, that's not-” You tried to get out.

“What is it, then!?” He yelled. “What more could it be other than you leaving with those kinds of people!? What did you do!? Tell me what they did to you!?” He rushed forward, causing you to trip backwards. 

Your hand gripped onto your chest to stop from panicking even more. “Nothing! They did nothing!” Your hands were shaking at your chest. All you could think about was the boys and how badly you needed one of them at that moment. 

“(F/N), stop.” Your mother shouted, leaning down to comfort you.

“You allowed them to taint you and make you into one of those women who walk at night! How could they!?” He continued anyway. 

“No, please. You have to-” You tried again, but he kept stopping you from explaining yourself. You began to shout and cry as your chest couldn’t seem to find the air it needed. 

“No more.” Your father was blinded by rage, it was clear. “We're sending you to Aurora. There's a group there that will help you find peace.”

Your eyes went wide, thinking about someone sending you off and making you leave the boys. The same ones who seemed to be the only ones you could think of. “No. You can't-” You shook your head. 

“It's been decided.” He stopped you.

Your legs hurt and your chest burned, but all you wanted to do was cling yourself to the boys and bury your head into their chest. You wanted them to hold you tightly and tell you it was going to be alright. All you needed was their love. 

With adrenaline that was fueled by seeing one of them, you sprinted out the house and down the porch. 

“(Y/N)!” Your father screamed, chasing after you. “Stop, you won't leave this time!” He shouted, quickly catching up to you and grabbing you by the waist. 

“Let me go!” You screamed, kicking your legs as you tried to turn your body into dead weight. You tried to get your father to let you go by dragging your body, making it harder for him. 

“(Y/N)!?” You cried harder when you saw Yeosang sprinting towards you from the hotel. 

“Yeosang!” You cried, your sobs getting louder. 

He quickly ran up to you, throwing himself at your father to make him let go of you. “Let her go!” The man sneered, throwing your father’s hands off you. 

“Don't get involved, boy!” Your father swung his hand back, striking Yeosang across the face. “She isn't your problem!”

“She is after I asked for her hand in marriage!” Yeosang screamed over you.

Everything became still as you dropped to the ground in a heap. He didn’t bother to wipe his lip of blood from the slap he got, he only fell to his knees to hold you tightly to his chest. He was quick to pull you up into his lap, his breathing hard as he tried to calm down from his anxiety over your well-being. 

Your mother watched as Yeosang calmed you down, his lips ghosting over your ear as he whispered something to you. You slowly stopped crying and seemed to just fall over into Yeosang as your panic attack fried all your nerves. 

“(Y/N)?” She asked quietly. “Is this true? Is-Is that why you left with him?”

“I'm sorry, mom.” You mouthed, not being able to talk. She, however, understood what you said the moment Yeosang looked up at her with a face that said he was sorry.

“(F/N), get inside the house.” Your mother frowned deeply, harshly grabbing at your father, who seemed to have gone quiet. She shoved him towards the house. “We'll talk about this later when everyone has calmed down.” She spoke with authority, but you could see she was barely holding it together. 

“Take her with you, Yeosang.” She had given the boy a pointed look that made him straighten up. 

“I'll take care of her.” He promised. He got off his knees in order to pick you up bridal style. 

“I know you will.”

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amoryy , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @araknoid , @starjoongi1117 , @chel-awingcherry , @puppyminnnie ,

Room for two (Mingi)

You should know wearing a skirt around Mingi activates the feral part of his brain.

@voicesinmyhead-rc :I'm 100% Mingi's girl and I neeeeeeeeeed to be fed!

Rough Mingi, Size Kink, Voice Kink, Voyerism, Seonghwa is invited too, but Mingi is the star ♥️

Thanks for your request <3 and hopefully it’s to your liking.

Genre; smut

Pairing; Mingi ft Seonghwa X Fem!Reader

Today Mingi was more riled up than usual, pushing you down onto the bed and practically ripping the shirt off your chest. ‘’Mingi why are you being so aggressive?” He growls and parts your legs open “I saw what you were doing, bending slightly over on the table to talk to hongjoong and Wooyoung..your ass was practically out in that skirt.” You whine at the feeling of him gripping your inner thighs and rubbing a thumb over your clothed slit-you were obviously already wet. “Such a slut, you love being seen huh? Love teasin me n’ then playing innocent hm?” You didn’t answer which caused him to slightly hold you over on your side, his hand colliding down with your ass. It stung and had you biting down hard on your lower lip, but it felt so good. “Answer me slut, you like it don’t you? Want the whole world to see what you’ve got underneath that skirt.” When you nodded Mingi clenched his teeth hard, he gets off the bed and stands dropping his pants down to the floor “get over here,” his voice is deep so fucking deep and vibrates through your body, you loved it when he was this pissed. Getting off the bed Mingi demands for you to drop down to your knees, his hand grabbing a handful of your hair “now put that pretty mouth of yours to good work.” He’s hard, cock pressed against his boxers that are already stained with precum. You slip them down and he pushes your face closer “get a move on.” You lick him from the base up to the tip and suck at the top before taking him into your mouth to which he pushes his hips forward to make sure you’ve got every inch in there. It makes your eyes water but down there your walls are clenching at nothing and Mingi knows that-he knows that when he’s rough your body responds positively. “I’ll bet you’re soaked down there, your cunts probably wishing it was nice and full~” you groan and start bobbing your head up and down before he even had the chance to rush you. Your tongue swirling around his tip occasionally grazing him with teeth because that’s the way he liked it. “Shit…you’re doing so good, so so good-do it faster.” His feet are planted down tight on the floor, he leaned back and held onto the wall so that he wouldn’t fall “look at me while you take my cock in your throat.” He grabs your chin and makes you look up, his face is concentrated on the feeling jaw clenching- you felt small in front of him.

Well you were small in front of him, Mingi was tall, and much more toned because he worked out a lot so he was easily able to pick you up, manhandle you and whenever he slapped your ass the handprint was huge, sometimes remaining there for a few minutes. In bed he practically engulfed you, his frame covering you whenever you two fucked or cuddled up. As he looked down at you, panting, eyebrows furrowed he quickly pulled out, the sudden motion had surprised you, but you were able to take a deep breath, gathering yourself up. “if I let you continue I would’ve came too quickly.” Neither of you knew, but awhile ago Seonghwa had dropped by, and when he heard the noises coming from the bedroom he stood next to the door, cock in hand. Peaking from the slight crack of the door that was just barely open. Meanwhile Mingi had tossed you back on the bed and and tied your pretty wrists together above your head to restrict any movement so that he could do whatever he pleased. If there’s one thing about Mingi it’s that he loved watching you squirm, loved hearing you plead and beg for him to give you even the slightest touch. “Mingi please…I need you.” And just as he went to a phone went off and almost instantly he recognized who’s ringtone it was. Seonghwa cursed to himself, attempting to shut it off. “Is that your phone?” You asked, but he shook his head and walked over to the door where Seonghwa stumbled to get himself together. “Oh..” “it’s not what it looks like,” Mingi chuckles “it’s exactly what it looks like, but I’m not mad or anything.” He opens the door wider and invites him inside “now that you’re here I have something I want you to do.” Seonghwa hesitates before stepping into the room, face instantly going red upon seeing you tied up on the bed, exposed. It’s something he’s fantasized about many times “Oh god.” You try to cover your face but the best you can do is use your arms, what the fuck was Seonghwa doing in here? And why did his presence turn you on even more. He stared hard, covering his lower half “like what you see?” Mingi asked, walking over to you and pulling your underwear down and off “look she’s already wet and ready, wanna taste?” Seonghwa’s eyes widen as he gives a shit eating grin “are you sure?” “She’s practically begging for any sort of touch, go and loosen her up for me.”

You shake as Seonghwa makes his way on the bed, fingers running through your slick, which makes you move forward trying to get more stimulation, Mingi sitting at his desk chair and guiding the oldest. “start with two fingers, and use your tongue on her clit at the same time.” He does as he’s told, shoving two fingers into you, at first his nose grazes against your clit before his tongue replaces it. “Ah-“ your legs instinctively clamp shut on Seonghwa’s Face but Mingi gets up and holds them apart for him “don’t act all shy now, take it.” Seonghwa’s tongue is going to town on you, his nose ever so often grazing against you as he’s lapping up anything that drips off the sides of your cunt. Your body feels heated, arms and legs shaking from the pleasure and not being able to cover yourself is humiliating. Mingi is groaning at the sight of you being ravished by his best friend, cock flushed and pressed against the side of your face as he holds you down. Your toes are curling and you can feel an orgasm coming “seonghwa stop.” If you weren’t tied up right now you’d grab a fistful of his hair so that he couldn’t part from you But mingi knew what he was doing. At first Seonghwa didn’t want to stop as well, just settling for just finger fucking you but then Mingi’s voice dropped deeper as he tried his best not to physically pull His friend off. “that’s enough.” The drop in octave has you crumbling on the sheets, wishing Mingi would just fuck you and stop with all the foreplay. The way both men towered, you thinking of how easily it would be for both of them to just pass you around like a doll, you couldn’t even for a second believe that This man-your boyfriend who sneers at the sight of any man looking at you for too long just allowed his best friend to eat you out. It’s a concept you’ve thought about, but never thought the high and mighty Mingi who hated the thought of anyone else getting you off would crack like this.

Your brain is cloudy, your walls desperately trying to cling onto something-anything that would get you off. It was a pathetic sight..really but both men seemed to enjoy watching you writher around in the restraints. “You’re welcome to watch, but that’s all.” Mingi said, eyes gazing towards his best friend who just grabbed the desk chair and brought it closer to the bed. He sat down, manspreading and once again pulling his cock out of his pants. If he missed the opportunity to watch this he’d definitely be pissed off about it later. At long last, Mingi finally got down to work- hands caressing your tits and sliding his fingers up towards your lips “open them.” Your mouth drops open and his slips two fingers in “now suck.” You do as told, tongue swirling around and sucking. His free hand wrapped around the front of your throat and squeezed, the lack of oxygen instantly giving you a feeling of euphoria. By now you were as loud as can be, focused on Mingi’s body weight pinning you down to the bed. “Gonna fuck you good, you’d love that won’t you?” You nod, and he pulls his fingers back wiping the fluid on your pussy for more wetness. He keeps you on your back, positions your hands above your head again and moves your legs up and back into the same position as they are. Mingi loved sex positions where you were exposed-but he also loved that in this one he was able to take you more deeply. “Are you comfortable?” Even in his rougher state he still made sure nothing hurt “please untie my wrists, they hurt.” He frees you of the restraints and allows you to put your arms down and flat. Squatting over you and positioning himself at your entrance, he slaps his cock over it a few times before pushing in, his feet flat on the bed, this required strength which he had enough of and was able to keep himself balanced. “Fuck, Seonghwa loosened you up good didn’t he? Such a whore taking his fingers inside you like that.” His hips start moving, his pace is fast and he’s drilling into you-cock so deep that it can’t move any further, “squeeze me harder.” He demands, Seonghwa remains at the end of the bed, hands wrapped around his cock, it looked as if he’d burst any second. Having someone watch you like this had your heart racing, both of their moans crowding up every part of your Brain and rewiring it. “Mingi, god..fuck I can’t take it anymore.” You haven’t even come yet but your pussy already felt so fucked out and overstimulated. “Shut up and take it, I’m almost there.” You’re moved back into a standard doggy style position, Mingi using a free hand to push your face into the mattress. It’s filthy but so fucking amazing, he knows just what to do to have you a whining and crying mess- the tight feeling in your stomach starting to return. “Ah, I can feel that you’re close, go ahead baby come.” Seonghwa’s wrist flicks faster, eyes closing shut and teeth clenched he’s about to come too but you’re first, your orgasm crashing down and causing your head to start spinning, Mingi comes after, thrusting a few more times to ride it out. Surprisingly he’s not out of breath and he flips you onto your back after pulling out, motioning for Seonghwa to get closer “do it here.” He spreads you apart, his come leaking out which sends Seonghwa over the edge as he releases all over your cunt, a groan getting caught in his throat as he lets go and falls back on the chair.

“Shit, that,” he takes a moment to catch his breath “amazing.” Mingi chuckles and gives you a kiss on the forehead “I know, you should peep often, you might get lucky again.”

UNBREAKABLE GLASS, BREAKABLE HEART ... drabble

YOU ARE MY UNIVERSE | CALMING DAYS | SWEET HOME

pairing : san x f!reader (background poly ateez)

genre : non-idol au, hurt / comfort, established relationship

warnings : langauge, being forgotten, some crying

suffer with me tag : @sanjoongie

in the rush of the moment, the boys forget something important on their way to their vacation.

you woke up with an odd feeling in your stomach. why this was happening, you weren't sure. but you opted to push to the side as you got out of bed and made your way to the kitchen.

and then it hit you that the apartment you shared with eight other people – your boyfriends – was silent. there wasn't another soul in sight nor could you hear anyone but your own breathing.

where were they?

then you had a second realization that today you all were suppose to travel to the beach for a small vacation. san had been begging for you all to take a trip together. telling hongjoong and seonghwa that it had been years since they last went on one.

"we need to go on one now that y/n has officially moved in," that was what finally made hongjoong and seonghwa agree. the two eldest thinking it would be a good idea to go on vacation with you.

yet here you were sitting on the couch by yourself, alone. you didn't want to admit it, but was obvious they had forgotten you. you tried to bite back the tears that threatened to spill. it just an accident, you think to yourself, they didn't mean to forget you.

you reach for your phone, wanting to check to see if they messaged you, but only the black screen of your phone stared at you. dead. that explains why your alarm didn't go off this morning.

"oh? who had gummy bears?" seonghwa asks as he brings out the pack of gummy bears that was in their travel snack bag. seonghwa turned to look at his lovers who all looked at him in equal confusion. that is until wooyoung spoke up from the back.

"oh! those of y/nnie's! she loves those gummy bears!"

"isn't y/n in the other car though?" yunho asks from the driver's seat, looking at his lover through the rearview mirror.

"then why is her snack with us and not with the others?" seonghwa asks, seemingly getting more confused by the second.

that's when realization hit san like a truck, a loud gasp leaving his lips causing the other males in the car to look at him.

"we left y/n at home!"

"WHAT!?" yunho is quick to pull off on to the side of the road. him and seonghwa quickly turn to look at both males in the back. only seconds later does the car hongjoong was driving also pull over.

"what's wrong?" hongjoong asks, confused on why yunho pulled over.

"we have to go home!" san begins, "we forgot y/n!" he says, feeling tears start to brim his eyes at realizing how hurt you must be feeling right now.

"what? but wasn't wooyoung suppose to make sure that everyone was up and ready? she was your buddy wooyoung," jongho says causing everyone to look at the male could looked surprised by the information. in other words... he forgot.

"damnit, wooyoung!" hongjoong says, anger seething through him as he glares at his younger boyfriend.

"i'm sorry! i guess i just got distracted by everything else. and besides, you were the one rushing everyone out the door! you should have noticed she was missing too!" wooyoung says back.

"listen," yeosang begins, "we don't have time to be arguing like this. we all obviously can't go back, so why don't half of us keep going to the beach house, while the other half goes back."

"we'll go back," san says, and no one objects.

"try calling her and let her know you are on your way, okay?" hongjoong says and seonghwa nods before they are all getting back in their respective cars.

"i can't believe you forgot your buddy," san says to wooyoung as they are on their way back to the apartment.

"shut up! i already feel bad enough as it is," wooyoung says, another wave of guilt rushing over him.

"stop blaming wooyoung," seonghwa says, phone pressed to his ear as he's trying to call you. "we are all to blame for th– ah! baby, are you okay?" seonghwa cuts himself off when he hears you pick up.

"i'm fine," you say, but seonghwa can tell by your tone that you've been crying. the thought makes his heart break.

"listen, baby, we are on our way back to get you okay? we'll be there in about half an hour," he tells you.

"okay," you sound dejected and it makes his stomach twist. this was suppose to be a fun and memorable vacation. one where he would have taken pictures for the scrapbook you got him. it wasn't suppose to have such a heart-breaking start.

"let me talk to her," san says, leaning over and holding his hand out. seonghwa hands him his phone.

"hey pretty," san says greeting you, "are you okay?"

"y-yeah, i'm fine," he hears you take a deep breath, "happy birthday, sannie."

"thank you, baby. remember you told me last night," he says, not being able to fight the smile that appears on his face.

"i know... i just wanted to tell you again," you say, voice falling quieter near the end. "you guys don't have to come back," you say after a moment, "you shouldn't be wasting time coming back to get me. i'm fine by myself."

"yeah, well, we aren't fine knowing you're by yourself. this vacation is for all of us. you included, got it?"

"got it," you say softly.

"i'll see you when we get back," san says and he hears you hum out a small bye before hanging up. san hands the phone back to seonghwa before he's turning to wooyoung. "you better get on the ground and beg for forgiveness when we pick her up."

san is the first one to enter the apartment when they get back. the other three trailing behind him as they step inside. and san doesn't waste any time calling out for you.

the four of them hear your feet padding across the floor and you emerge around the corner. san can't help the blush that covers his face when he takes in how cutely you're dressed. however, before he could say anything, wooyoung is shoving him aside in order to run up to you. the younger male dropping to his knees, arms wrapping around your legs as begins to semi-fake cry.

"y/nnie, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to forget my seat buddy. i love you so much, you know that right?" wooyoung says making you smile at him. you nod your head, running a hand through his hair to comfort him. "but in all fairness, its hongjoong's fault one-hundred percent."

"wooyoung!" seonghwa's voice is stern as he stops wooyoung from trying to pass the blame. you then see him look up at you with soft eyes, "we are all to blame, really. i'm sorry, baby."

"i'm sorry too, i know the others all feel just as bad," yunho says making you give them a sad smile in return.

"can i just... can i just have a hug, please?" all four males don't waste anytime in giving you a group hug. after that, san gives you an extra one while yunho takes your bag and the other three begin to head down to the car.

"i'm sorry we left you, y/n. i don't think i'll ever be able to forgive myself," he tells you, hiding his face in your neck.

"but you came back for me, didn't you?" you say, making san lift his head to look at you.

"yeah, we did," he says before kissing you. when he pulled away, san gave you a smile before linking hands with you and walking down to the car where you join the others.

tag list (bold is unable to tag ) : @invuwrld @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @rdiamond2727 @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @kryybebe @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frogogh @marsanhwa @kryukyustar @sookacc @seongwin @melomatz @ad0rechuu

angel in the marble

after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.

♔ PAIRING: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader

♔ GENRE: high renaissance au, angst, smut, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 8k

♔ WARNINGS: homelessness, stealing, mild swearing/violence/drinking, 90% of this is bickering lmao, mentions of minor characters' death, jealousy and kinda possessiveness?, referenced unconsensual groping (not by jk), a bit of blasphemy, making out, groping, fingering, rough angry sexxx, choking, slapping

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: fun fact this is mostly historically accurate! jk's characterisation, the grocery list doodles, the sack of rome, the beef with his brother, the encounter with his rival (raphael)... are all taken from michelangelo's actual life, even some stuff is quoted from his letters lol. man was fanfic material.

1529, Rome

“How much for that one?”

“No, that one’s sold already.”

It was a lively morning. After days of heavy rainfall, those of high social class were eager to get out and meet under the gentle sun of spring, whose glare reflected on the precious stones of their jewellery; while those of low, out of necessity, couldn’t wait to reopen their businesses or set up their stalls and get back to work. You liked to eye them all as you strolled the streets of Rome.

“To whom?”

“Your friend Taehyung.”

“Agh… How much is that prick paying you?”

The point of the matter was that it was bustling, some colliding if they looked away from where they were going for more than a breath. It worked in your favour for it was then easier to make yourself scarce right after stealing bags of coins, such as those of the three men seemingly bargaining by a workshop’s entrance out of which a large block of marble was being dragged. Perfect.

“Three ducats.”

“Three?! He’s robbing you of two ducats. I’ll pay you the five it’s worth.”

You kept your head low as you approached the pair that seemed wealthier and with those stealthy hands of yours unfastened the bags tied to their belts. After all, pickpocketing was a skill you’d had under your own for some years now, so this was bound to go smoothly.

Because you didn’t realise there was a guardian with them, perhaps you’d grown arrogant.

“I’m sorry, maestro. It’s reserved.”

“But it’ll become a waste in his possession!”

As you slipped away into the crowd, mouth watering at the fresh-baked bread you were going to devour as soon as bought, this brown dog leaped up at you out of nowhere, ignoring your desperate efforts to shake him off. If anything, they caused him to bark.

No, no, no…

The three men turned to the scene playing out not so far, and thinking his dog was bothering you one of them shouted, “Bam, come here, boy!” but as he obediently ran to his owner, you were too slow to hide the bags in your hands. It only took the pair a second to make them out, check whether theirs still hung on their belts, find them not, work out you’d stolen them, look back up, and find you not either.

Of course, you’d made your escape by then, dived into the sea of people and swum through them as quickly as possible, only stopping when you reached an empty vaulted alley to catch your breath.

That was ridiculously close. If you weren’t more careful next–

Your train of thought was interrupted by someone grabbing you by the arm from behind and pushing you against the nearest wall. A grunt accompanied the thud, and a gasp followed at the sight of the two men from before—dog included. Pinned in place, it’d be a bad idea to fight back or attempt to run away again. Fuck’s sake.

“Do you know what happens to thieves?” the one cornering you asked so close that when the cold breeze rustled his hair, some strands grazed your face. You looked away to avoid the tickling rather than out of fear, or so you wanted to believe. “They have a hand cut off. Seems fair, doesn’t it, Jimin?”

By contrast, that Jimin didn’t look intimidating, otherwise still catching his breath from the chase, but he did snatch the coin bags from your hands. “It doesn’t have to be so, maestro. We got our money back. She’s… just a girl.”

“And that exempts her of crime?”

“Please, don’t report me,” you begged, humiliating as though it was.

“Why shouldn’t we?” the maestro scoffed. Maestro… You were being threatened by a damned craftsman, the other one probably his assistant.

“Because I don’t want to lose a hand?”

“Oh, but we wanted to lose money, did we?” You rolled your eyes, and he released his grip only to step away. “Take us to your father, brat. He’ll answer for you.”

It took you a moment to respond, “I don’t have a father, or anyone... Only I can answer for my actions.”

“You’re a beggar?” Jimin asked, taking pity as he studied your appearance for the first time. Dishevelled hair, tattered dress, unpleasant smell… Yes, they should’ve guessed.

“She doesn’t beg, though, does she? She steals.”

“Only from cunts.”

His head snapped to meet your glare, and Jimin laughed, “You seem to not know whom you speak to.” He could be Jesus for all you cared. Uninterested, you petted the dog, Bam, seeing as he’d leapt up at you again. “This is Jeon Jungkook.”

You froze. The Jeon Jungkook? The famous artist who painted and sculpted for the Pope? Whom faraway kings and even emperors commissioned? The one whose genius was said to be changing the world?

At the lack of attention, Bam returned to his master, and that snapped you out of your shock to ask, “Then why do you whine?” The two men frowned, having clearly expected an apology paired with the usual bootlicking. “As if you need that bag more than I!”

“What nerve,” he scoffed again, making you wince by grabbing your arm tighter than before and starting to drag you into the next street. “You’re going straight to the authorities!”

“Wait,” Jimin intervened, thank God. “Weren’t you in need of a servant, maestro?”

“So?”

Jimin pointed at you with his gaze as though it was obvious. “You’re in need of a servant, she’s in need of a roof.”

“I would rather have a hand cut off.”

“I would rather have her hand cut off too.”

Jungkook tried to resume dragging you, but Jimin blocked his way with a soft smile. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N…”

“Do you know how to take care of a household?” Slowly, you nodded, melancholy engulfing you at the memory of cooking or sweeping the floor with your mother once upon a time. Somehow, she always found a way to make chores fun... “Then you qualify for the job. You’ll have three meals a day and a bed to sleep on. And you, maestro, a servant who’ll work her hardest, lest you fire her and she ends up in the streets again.”

Both you and Jungkook reluctantly glanced at each other. Truth be told, you didn’t prefer losing a hand to living with him, you just didn’t like him. Despite being a celebrity, he was a stranger. It just wouldn’t work.

But then, why were you holding your breath, hoping he’d accept?

“We shouldn’t have left Namjoon’s workshop. The marble is about to be delivered,” he said walking away. The air left your lungs in disappointment. It seemed you were to remain a stray cat. Jimin pressed his plump lips apologetically as he gave you enough coins to buy that bread, and you nodded, grateful all the same for his trying. You watched him rush to Jungkook’s side but when this one saw him, he turned around. “Hurry up, brat. If Taehyung gets that block of marble, I’ll not take you in.”

Since the first day, you could attest to Jeon Jungkook’s nature being as rough and uncouth as the rumours claimed, and after living alone with him for two months still believed gossip such as that he’d got the scar on his left cheek in a tavern fight—in which, if you’d chanced to be present, you would’ve rooted for the other individual.

It appeared it wasn’t just others Jungkook was harsh to. However rich his talent had turned him, he behaved like a poor man, consuming food and drink sparingly and out of necessity instead of pleasure, spending only the money required to live decently, sleeping little in order to work on commissions from dawn to midnight…

Why he chose to take little care of himselfwas a mystery to someone who previously had not been allowed a choice, even if putting work before all was in order to thwart Kim Taehyung’s plans of ruining his career, as he claimed. You doubted his rival was obsessed with him so, but had learned to agree with whatever Jungkook grumbled to avoid disputes. Most times.

Deep down, you had a feeling your boldness amused him. Who else dared get on his nerves?

“I think all you artists fluttering around the Pope are no more than slaves to money,” you let drop once while making his bed. Bam was sleeping peacefully under the window, while Jungkook leaning against the door’s frame behind you, offended to the core. He could help, you thought, or at least loosen my corset a little…

“I, a slave? I’ll be damned… There is an angel inside every block of marble, and I’ll have you know I carve to set it free.”

“Is it the angel that charges the Pope, then, master?” You could feel him barely restraining the urge to throw you out the window, smiled as you finished smoothing out the blankets.

“You missed a wrinkle there.”

Hands on your hips and frown on your brows, you examined the neatly arranged coverings of his bed. “Where?”

“On your face,” he muttered before making his leave.

Not his finest jibe, but the metaphor did stay with you. An angel inside the marble… It perhaps applied to Jungkook himself, though you’d never tell him.

One instance it came to mind was recently, when his assistants and apprentices were invited over for dinner.

Usually, he’d tell you which meals he liked and you’d ask at the marketplace which ingredients to buy, but now that about ten meals were to be cooked a list was needed. So there he sat on his desk in his study, inking said list as you waited in front of him, fiddling with the undershirt that peeked out of your dress’ sleeves. Given that your eyes were fixed on it, you only learned Jungkook was done when the sound of his quill scratching the paper ceased.

“Be back no later than dusk,” he ordered, “I bet there are still Germans and Spaniards lurking about.”

A year had passed since the Sack of Rome, but the mention of it sent a shiver of fear down your spine. Whatever the political reasons for it, you hated everyone involved, for Hell itself would’ve been a more beautiful sight to behold those nine months when the Tiber’s waters remained painted red…

You were lucky to make it through. Your family wasn’t.

“Yes, maestro.”

“Here,” he said handing you the paper, then picked another letter from a pile of correspondence he’d been going through before your arrival. Jungkook was about to snap its wax seal when he looked up to realise you hadn’t moved an inch. “Why are you here? Away with you!” He saw the reason in the way you avoided eye contact. “You can’t read, can you?” Met with a silence charged with embarrassment, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Give me the list.”

Getting hold of the quill again, Jungkook began… doodling?

You tilted your head but couldn’t see well what he was drawing until he finished and returned the list to you. Then, your lips parted. Each item on the list was illustrated next to its name: ten loaves of bread, a jug of wine, tortellini, four anchovies, two fennel soups…

“I’ll teach you to read when I have time. This will do for now.”

“You’d do that?” For me?

Jungkook ignored you, before he went back to reading his letters complimenting the good gesture with an irritated, “Hurry up.”

That night his co-workers arrived one by one, Jimin the first. The sight of him when you opened the door brightened up your mood.

Unlike a certain someone he was always sweet to you, genuinely interested to know how you fared even if you were just a servant. He claimed that mattered not to him, that you were both commoners and thus equals.

“Look at this place, it’s spotless! And you know I’m furtive, so I won’t get in your way,” you told Jimin as you escorted him through a hallway, bright from the torches hung on the walls that you’d lit up earlier.

He laughed, “I cannot make you my servant, Y/N, you’re maestro’s.”

“But he’s going to drive me mad… To tell you one of many examples, he often falls asleep in his clothes, and who but I is to take his boots off so they don’t get the sheets dirty? If the chalk on his fingers or the dust from the chiseling on his hair won’t already. Bam is far cleaner…”

Jungkook had a workshop he barely set foot in, preferred his team made use of it instead to not be bothered by their idiocy. His words. So it was in a chamber on the ground floor of this house he gave way to artistic insanity. In your book, that meant constant cleaning.

Jimin looked at you fondly. “Sounds nightmarish.”

“It truly is!”

As soon as the two of you entered the dining hall, Bam ran from Jungkook’s side by the fireplace to Jimin, who was as excited to see him.

“Good night, maes–”

“Do you think I’m deaf, ungrateful brat?” Jungkook interrupted him to bark at you. “Rome is full of people begging to get a piece of me, so if you don’t like it here, I’ll just get someone else!”

“You say that and yet keep me like a prisoner!”

“As if you don’t have it better here than anywhere you’ve burdened with your presence before!”

“There, there…” Jimin interjected to de-escalate, kneeling to better stroke Bam. “Maestro, I’ve seen your latest sketch of the Virgin and Child. She resembles Y/N.”

Both you and Jungkook failed to fight off the embarrassment, gazes unable to find a place to settle. Sitting down on the large table, he explained, “It was just one time… I had used Yoongi as a model, but the Madonna looked too masculine... and rather than going through the trouble of finding some girl and hiring her, I had Y/N pose for me… So what! Why bring it up out of nowhere…”

“Because maybe you just need a bit of distance from time to time. With permission, I too would have Y/N pose for m–”

“Absolutely not.”

“Now, why the hell not?” you groaned stamping your foot, startling poor Bam. Hope had been born inside you in a second and cruelly crushed in the next.

“Because I say so. And watch your tone with me.” As usual, the mutual glaring would trick anyone into thinking the next step would be murder. Jimin, who knelt there awkwardly, certainly thought so, at least until the bell rang. “Now go answer the door!”

What happened later, though, rendered the fury Jungkook had evoked in your heart nonexistent and instead seized the thing in a clasp of distress.

In the morning, he walked in when you were sweeping the kitchen. At once you forced the sobs to stop and turned around so he wouldn’t see you wipe your tears.

“It’s past nine, where’s breakfast?” he asked in shock that you hadn’t even started making it, the table there empty.

You swore under your breath before leaving the broomstick leaning against the nearest wall, flushed face kept out of Jungkook’s sight, then in a haste fetched a plate, a knife, and a leftover bread loaf. “Apologies, master, I forgot. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

Sniffling betrayed you, at which Jungkook frowned. “Are you crying?”

Great, the question just about especially designed to make one well up. Not trusting your voice anymore, you shook your head. Jungkook approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the task at hand, now cutting a few slices of the bread.

“Have you broken something?” You shook your head again, the suppressed sobs making your chin tremble. Jungkook took a deep breath before asking with a surprisingly soothing tone, “Then what’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Within an hour, he’d summoned a meeting consisting of all who’d attended dinner the previous night.

A seemingly calm Jungkook was sat at the head of the table, elbows sunk on it and fingers interlocked. You stood behind him, head still low out of shame. A tense silence had fallen in the chamber some time ago, and sick of it, Jimin shattered it.

“Have you anything to tell us, maestro?”

“I was waiting for Biagio to do so.”

The man was one of Jungkook’s favourite assistants who had worked with him for years, even longer than Jimin. And if it was possible for your position to be trickier, he belonged to some noble family.

“Me? But I’ve nothing to say, maestro.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair. “My servant will, then. Y/N?”

Bastard. If you are going to fire me, why make me go through this?

“Last night, w-when I left this hall to go refill the wine jug… Messer Biagio followed me into the kitchen, and… h-he trapped me from behind, and started t-to touch me…” Your vision soon blurred, hence why you couldn’t see clearly how concerned Jimin was for you, or how Biagio jumped up in outrage. “I managed to push him away, and ran upst–”

“How dare you slander me, wench? Maestro, you do not believe this!”

“Do I not?”

“She’s lying! I caught her stealing sketches from your study, likely to sell them, so she’s trying to get rid of me!”

You almost scoffed. Only an idiot would choose the one occasion guests had come over and her absence would be noticed to carry out a theft.

Jungkook tilted his head. “I thought you had nothing to say. Why would you keep such a thing just now?”

Biagio gulped. “I deemed it best to mention it later, in private... You won’t believe a pickpocket before an old friend, will you?”

Silence returned, your breath still as you saw all the assistants and apprentices visibly take pity on him. The only one who didn’t was Jimin, but even on his face there was a hint of hesitation. Jungkook’s, you couldn’t see from behind, but after an eternity he stood up and walked over only to put a hand on the shoulder of Biagio, who smiled in relief.

A quiet sob broke through your lips, heart sinking. You’d needed Jungkook to believe you in this. Not because of the consequences his protection as your master could save you from, but because, like it or not… he was the closest thing to family you had.

It turned out he did believe you, judging by the punch landed on Biagio’s jaw out of nowhere. And the next one on his cheekbone, and on his nose. Before everyone around the table had barely stood up to stop Jungkook, he’d already thrown Biagio down and straddled him, pulling his doublet’s collar in a close, tight grip as he continued beating him up. Blood was drawn, but for once, you didn’t mind having to scrub it later.

Jungkook’s influence trumped a whole noble house’s, you learned in the course of the months Biagio tried his mightiest and failed most miserably to have him arrested. Perhaps because of the Pope sitting on his shoulder.

That he’d taken your side was still hard to believe, all he’d grumbled with a shrug when you thanked him while tending to his wounds from the fight being, “I’d been waiting for the chance. I always thought Biagio was a weasel.”

With the matter resolved, life returned to normal—well, whatever that meant in Jeon Jungkook’s household. Because calling for you at the top of his lungs like a madman was not normal. The first time he’d done it you’d raced downstairs, afraid something horrible had happened, only for him to have you close a window as it was getting chilly. Devil rot him. You rushed no longer after that, much to his complaints.

Today, he didn’t notice right away when you appeared under the cased opening, and good thing he didn’t, for he was polishing a bust with sandpaper… shirtless.

Product of hours carving stone into his desired shape or occasionally beating someone up, he could brag of having muscles, which the current task had covered in a layer of sweat and dust. The way they flexed with each movement had you compelled, wanting to reach out, feel if his skin was as hot as the blood pumping through your veins faster and faster. Then your gaze moved to the bust and whatever spell you were under broke.

Hardly an angel was that widowed noblewoman, whom you wished had stayed trapped inside a block of marble. Her name was Madonna Maddalena, and she’d come some weeks past to make a commission covered in pearls, gold, and boldness.

“My friends refused to accompany me today. You’re said to be… disagreeable, which I’m sure is untrue. However, all of them do want to know if you’re as fine-looking as is also rumoured, maestro” she told Jungkook within minutes of meeting him, still by the entrance!

Now you can tell them he’s not, you bit your tongue before it remarked, as this wasn’t Jimin but a patron not to be scared away by your bickering. It wouldn’t be true anyway. All your master lacked in manners, he made up for with looks… Which you’d never say out loud. You’d never say either that he looked even better when irked.

“I’ve heard many rumours about myself, most of them nonsense. My appearance was involved in none.”

She smiled seductively. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to spread them.”

“The weather is pleasant today,” Jungkook changed the subject, flustered beneath the formal demeanour. “Shall we have wine in the garden?” You left to prepare it not before catching Maddalena raise her brow at you in disapproval. She must’ve been able to tell you thought she was a pompous cunt.

The beautiful flowers you cared for tried their best outside, but the air didn’t get any better.

Sat around a small table, Maddalena explained she wanted a bust of herself by his talented hand to decorate the main hall of her palazzo. You served them wine, not really listening until Jungkook started playing hard to get. The hundred times you’d told him it wasn’t a good tactic to make his labour out to be too prestigious had apparently fallen on deaf ears.

“Any other artist could carry this out, Madonna. I am working for the Pope these days…” he subtly scolded her, a mere mortal, for wasting his precious time. And he wondered why he had a reputation for being arrogant.

Maddalena put his thoughts into plain words, “So why should you stoop to taking commissions from an insignificant widow?”

“Correct,” you said under your breath, luckily heard by none from the background, where you stood holding a wine jug until the madonna raised her cup and you approached to refill it.

“It is then fortunate I’m to marry a nephew of the Pope’s.”

Swayed by her future influence, Jungkook smiled back. “So it is.”

“But not for another week. ‘Till then, I belong to no man.” The suggestion in her tone almost drove you to spill wine all over her. No, better yet: order Bam to sic on her. He’d do it.

Just, who did this woman think she was? And why did Jungkook not kick her out right afterwards? It made you wonder whether he’d enjoyed the flirtation. Whether he would’ve been the one to take things further had his inconvenient servant not been present. It was common for men to have affairs and lovers, but it didn’t sit well with you that Jungkook might. Not that you ever imagined him doing any of that, for goodness’ sake–

“What took you so long?”

Jungkook’s voice brought you back to the present, under the cased opening.

“I was lazing about, as always,” you quoted his favourite false reprimand, making him roll his eyes, your own dropping to the floor when he walked closer.

“In that case, prepare a bath for me.”

“Yes, master.”

You sighed at all the work ahead. That being a servant was worlds better than living in the streets didn’t mean you looked forward to collecting gallons of water from a well, carrying them back, heating them, transferring them to a tub, then washing Jungkook—because you did wash him.

Biagio had hurt his left shoulder bad and ever since, he’d needed assistance in certain activities. Curious how he could otherwise chisel a goddamned bust without problem.

Jungkook’s full nudity only made you blush if you stopped scrubbing, so knelt with tucked up sleeves before the wooden tub he was reclined on, scrubbing away the dirt on his skin with lavender-scented soap you were. Maybe all the stupid feelings you’d been suffering lately stemmed from there…

Head resting on the edge, he was exhausted from the long day of work, taking your rubbing as a relaxing massage. You, however, couldn’t ignore the stinging guilt, what with the scar on his shoulder right in front of your face. He probably felt your breathing on it.

“I’m sorry you got hurt…”

Jungkook fought heavy lids only to see you avoid him. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of him was embarrassing, as when he’d caught you crying, but he didn’t take advantage of the fact to humiliate you. Jungkook may be an ogre, but he wasn’t cruel.

“I’ve received worse for less,” he assured you in a calm, low voice. It sounded soothing to your ears.

“That, I don’t doubt,” you scoffed, glancing at his other scar on the cheek. “Did you also get that one in defence of some lady?”

“You’re nowhere close to a lady.” It could be done, you mused. Drowning him. “This was courtesy of my brother.”

“You have a brother?” It dawned on you how little you knew of him. Surely, most had heard it all about the divine Jeon Jungkook, but you’d never cared enough to learn past the shell of gossip, even after months of living with him. In fairness, he’d never asked about you either. You preferred it that way.

“Brothers,” he corrected you. “The one who did this to me was a wayward fool. Had to teach him a lesson.”

“Looks like he taught one to you.”

“I left with a scratch, he with a limp.” The conception of two brothers hurting each other so harshly widened your eyes for a second, and Jungkook noticed, for he added, “He was whoring around, wasting the money I worked hard to send, bullying our other brothers as well.”

Much made sense about Jungkook all of a sudden. Not his personality, that was incomprehensible. But why he killed himself to earn money and yet barely spent it… He had a family to provide for. Once again, you were reminded of his metaphor. Could an angel be in there?

Carrying on washing Jungkook, you dragged the sponge over to his neck. Then his collarbones, his chest, his abs just peaking above the water... They did look like a sculpture’s, especially wet and soaped, reminiscent of polished marble when the light of the torches reflected on them. Swallowing hard, the back of your fingers gingerly graced Jungkook’s muscles, both soft and firm. Slippery. Whatever possessed you to keep feeling them, you lacked the will to expel from your body, and so without realising your grip on the sponge loosened until it fell to float away, fingertips now free to roam over his abs.

You were slowly trailing downwards, past the water’s surface, when your wrist was seized and held in the air in a warning manner, the startle almost making you scream.

Sat upright, Jungkook was glaring at you so fiercely you feared for your life. But he didn’t say anything and instead just breathed hard, jaw clenched… almost as if he was holding back. Your rising heartbeat was deafening in the silence waiting for something to happen, anything, but what did wasn’t what a side of you anticipated with excitement.

Jungkook just let go of your wrist and returned to his previous position, and you got hold of the sponge and finished washing him, albeit holding your breath the entire time.

Days later, you came dangerously close to being fired.

The Pope had summoned Jungkook—something about a portrait commission—and you were to carry his bag filled with sketches for him due to his shoulder injury. As you navigated the ever-busy streets of Rome with him, the cold autumn breeze made you regret not putting on an overgown. The cioppa you’d bought with your own salary and not stolen. It brought a smile to your lips that faded at the realisation your mother would’ve reminded you to put it on before going out.

The sorrow pestering you turned to confusion when Jungkook stopped walking and tsked, telling you loud enough to be heard by all, “Look at him, the chief of police, with such an assemblage.”

A well-dressed man and what appeared to be his entourage walked in your direction, halting near enough. You didn’t have to ask to know this was his rival, the renowned painter Kim Taehyung.

“Whereas you, like an executioner, walk alone,” he mocked Jungkook, then noticed you standing behind him like a timid child. “Not completely, my mistake. Maestro, where in your barren soil did you plant such a flower?” He walked over to you, intentionally bumping Jungkook’s wounded shoulder as he passed, causing him to grunt lowly. From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”

Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”

Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”

"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.

“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.

The incident happened once inside the Vatican.

Its grandiose corridors alone made you feel small, too unimportant to walk them, whereas Jungkook did so with determination, knowing he belonged at the top of the world. What with your tempestuous relationship, it was easy to forget he was famous throughout Europe. His feet would still never be kissed by you. Someone had to humble the man, right?

At some point the two of you arrived at a door flanked by guards, and averse, you grabbed the sleeve of Jungkook’s doublet.

“Do I have to go in?”

“Too good for the Pope, are you?” He shook you off. “Come on.”

“Damn you…” you muttered.

“What did you just say to me?”

“After you, master.”

Telling himself he’d be late if he scolded you, Jungkook turned and nodded at the guards, who opened the door of a chamber whose walls were frescoed with angels and saints, likely by Taehyung, giving off the impression one was in Heaven. When you saw him sat on a golden chair, old and grey, enjoying the tune of a lute player, you felt as though you’d just entered Hell.

The audience lasted for ever. While you stood by the door, Jungkook showed the Pope some sketches of the portrait for him to choose his favourite and then they talked and talked of politics. All you could do was fix your gaze somewhere on the floor and sigh.

“Yes, Your Holiness, this is the servant I mentioned…” A frown proceeded your looking up to see Jungkook somewhat embarrassed, scratching his nose as if to hide his face. He talked of you to others? Doubtless to complain…

With a sweet voice as if he was talking to a little girl, the Pope asked you, “What is your name?”

“None of your business, Your Holiness.”

The musician’s tune ceased abruptly, allowing Jungkook’s faint gasp to be heard. Then fell a short silence spent by the Pope blinking, taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Jungkook was quick to fake a laugh, though sweat formed at his temples. “A jest! She meant no offence, Your Holiness, but to make you laugh.”

You held the Pope’s glare in defiance, indifferent to the fact he was the most powerful man in the whole of Christendom.

By some miracle, he let it go, and you left that chamber minutes later with your head as yet attached to your body. Your arm wouldn’t be for much longer, though, given Jungkook was forcibly dragging you all the way out to the streets, pushing you into the first alley he saw.

“Are you out of your mind?!” he shouted, towering over you menacingly. Unlike the day you’d met, you weren’t scared, rather furious as him as you stood your ground. “That was the Pope, you fool!”

“So?”

Jungkook was in utter disbelief. “He could’ve ordered your execution– mine too!”

“Well, nothing happened!”

“Nothing?! I’m sure to fall out of favour!” He paced around, anxiety quickening his breath. “Years of pouring my soul into my craft, of grovelling before the right people, all thrown away! Good God, your attitude may cost me everything…”

“And what about me?! Everything lost to me does not matter?!”

Jungkook stopped to frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”

It was now you who walked up to him. “I didn’t have a job, or a reputation, or admirers. I had only a family, and I never wished for anything else! That monster you work for took them from me. When the foreigners’ armies came and everyone rushed to Castel Sant’Angelo, he gave the order to close the gates as soon as he was safe behind them! You must have been there with him, weren’t you? Well, we weren’t. We were left outside to be slaughtered. And I wish I had been, like my parents, so I didn’t have to suffer the likes of you any longer!”

Tears were streaming down your face by the end, Jungkook just staring back at you. It didn’t surprise him that your parents were dead or that they’d been killed during the Sack, but that it was so deep a wound left festering in your heart that you didn’t mind being put out of misery. He surmised your disrespectful behaviour towards him was also fruit of your pain, especially if you deemed him an ally of the one who caused it.

“The few things I own… They’re wasted on me. Throw them away or give them to your next servant,” you sobbed, taking for granted you were fired. Anyone with half a brain would indeed have you dismissed, and part of you knew it was bound to happen, that you would go back to breaking in fucking churches to spend the night.

So you turned around into the main street, set on wandering until your legs became too sore not to collapse. With any luck, a carriage would run over you. But warmth then surrounded your hand, and you looked down to see Jungkook’s holding it tight enough to force you to halt. Though still mad, a hint of compassion sparkled in his eyes.

“Let’s… Let us just go home.”

Home. His house had felt so for a while now, truth be told. Himself too.

After that, you non-verbally agreed on a ceasefire—avoiding quarrels, that is, which was quite the task for both.

Such as now that Jungkook had you inking down a letter in his name. First of all, did you look like a scribe? If you’d known in advance the lazy arse would teach you to read and write for this, you’d have chosen to remain illiterate. And second, this was your short break before making dinner, intended to be spent playing with Bam. The poor thing was also in the study, at least being stroked by his owner, who was sat beside you on the desk.

“… I send you my regards, may God keep you from all harm. Jeon Jungkook in Rome,” he finally finished dictating, and you recording. “Give it to me, I’ll seal it.”

He was melting the wax with which to do so when the bell rang, to his surprise. Sighing, you stood up and went to open the door to whom turned out to be Jimin. The sight of him brightened you up, and yours stretched his lips into a smile.

“Evening, Y/N.”

“Good evening! I didn’t know the master was expecting you.”

“He isn’t…” You welcomed him in, brows joining at how he continuously chewed on his aforementioned lip and breathed deep through his nose as he followed you. Had something happened…? A decision to eavesdrop was made en route to the study.

Though Jimin requested for you to stay once there, and nothing could have prepared you for the reason why.

“This actually concerns Y/N…” You and Jungkook exchanged confused looks, him leaning against the desk and crossing arms as though he didn’t like the sound of that. Jimin fixed his already perfect clothes before addressing him, “I’ve come to ask for her hand in marriage.” Your jaw dropped. “I know it’s sudden at the lack of previous courtship, but I thought I should ask for your permission before engaging in it, maestro. She’s a lovely girl… and I think she’d be happy as my wife. Worry not, I won’t ask for a dowry or for her to stop working… Although on second thought, fewer hours of service would be ideal.”

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening.

Jungkook must be thinking the same, for he squinted to ask, “Are you drunk?”

“N-No, of course not.”

“Are you sure? You want to marry a servant with little to her name.” He had a point, so you weren’t offended. If politics weren’t the reason for a union, did this mean… Jimin had feelings for you?

“Maestro, you say it as if I were a lord,” he chuckled. “I don’t care about Y/N’s possessions, I’ll provide for her anyway. I’ve… always been fond of her. And I dare say she shares the sentiment.”

Betrayal hid safely behind a look that asked if there was any truth to that. Obviously not! There was no romance in your own fondness for Jimin. If anything, you had thought he saw you as a younger sister to look after, therefore as a protective older brother you saw him. But so shocked were you still that no words managed to come out, and Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to Jimin.

“I’ll think about it. You may go.”

A curt tone was the norm for Jungkook, it was not being granted his blessing that disappointed Jimin. He knew for a fact he was an honourable man, so why wouldn't he entrust you to him?

“Quite well… I’ll show myself out.” he uttered, before making his leave failing to hide his low spirit by giving you one last shy smile you hadn’t the heart to return.

An awkward silence filled the air that even Bam daren’t break. Only once the front door was heard shutting did you walk closer to Jungkook.

“You won’t agree to this, will you?”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have to get rid of you at some point.”

“Rid of me? Like I’m a burden?” you asked, voice rising. How a servant could be so was unknown to you until, like wooden ship toys did when you’d submerge them in a bucket of water as a child, certain guesses surfaced in your thoughts. Trying to pickpocket him, the constant clashing, Biagio, that bath, the Pope… Yes, you may perhaps be described as a burden. But you didn’t want to leave. With a calmer tone, you pleaded, “I’ll behave from now on. I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear.”

Jungkook didn’t deign to look your way as he left, followed by Bam. “You have to marry at some point, Y/N. Otherwise people will gossip.”

Since when did he care about what people said of him? And why should you?

Winter having dropped its anchor, nightfall arrived early. Not early enough, you brooded as you cooked dinner, longing for the day to end once and for all. With any hope, all of this was a nightmare and upon waking up in the morning life would go back to normal. You didn’t even know why you wanted to stay with Jungkook, as the occasions in which you’d begged Jimin to employ you to leave this house were countless. The only certain thing was that you were upset.

Later, after washing all plates and cups, you began to put off all torches lighting the house, finding out in the hall that Jungkook hadn’t moved from the seat he’d dined in. You considered carrying on with your job and leaving him in the dark, but he wouldn’t find it as funny. Instead, you stood before him.

“Will that be all, master?”

The coldness in your expression made him sigh, “Y/N–”

“I shall retire, then.” You turned to leave but were made to stop in your tracks.

“It’s an advantageous proposal for you,” he lectured to whom he must believe an idiot. “Jimin works for me, he’s wealthy. A better match than you could ever aspire to. And he asks for no dowry because he doesn’t want money, he wants you…” His words were tainted with resentment. “He’ll take good care of you.”

Skirt of your dress swirling along, you faked a smile. “If you think so, master, then it must be so.”

He shook his head as he leaned back in defeat. “Suit yourself, but I won’t be the one to reject Jimin. You crush his heart.”

A laugh escaped you. “If you genuinely cared about him, you wouldn’t let him marry a woman in love with–” Oh no. It only hit you as you were saying it.

Jungkook had appeared annoyed, but now he was mad. “Who?” He stood up abruptly—chair’s feet scratching against the floor making you wince—and walked so close you were backed against the wall, face forced to turn to a side. In a low, deep voice, he repeated, less as a question and more as an order this time, “Who.”

There was no way in the nine circles of Hell you’d say it, when you didn’t want to believe it in the first place. For fuck’s sake, why? Jungkook only ever made you want to get away from him. That was the case right now, but then… why were your feet frozen?

Some unreasonable part of you seemed to have prevailed upon the others, casting away all resistance from your body and allowing yourself to indulge in Jungkook’s proximity. You met his eyes without fear, held his dark gaze. It didn’t take him long to work it out, yet he kept close, so close your unsteady breaths mingled, the effect akin to intoxication. He was visibly trying to hold back, telling himself it’d be a bad idea, but you prayed he wouldn’t care.

By God or the Devil, your prayers were heard.

Jungkook finally smashed his lips into yours, devouring them with a hunger you shared and felt growing as he gripped your waist to press you against him. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have imagined his tongue belonged inside your mouth, swirling around your own, and now you wanted it all over your body. As if reading your mind, Jungkook broke the ardent kiss to move down to your neck, which he licked painfully slowly before sucking hard, making you hiss with pleasure. He knew that would leave a mark, the bastard. You wondered if it was meant for Jimin, so he’d see you were Jungkook’s, and in such case you didn’t mind, let your eyelids close to enjoy it.

Steered by the lust possessing you, one hand grabbed his soft hair in a fistful, keeping his head in place where he was sweetly abusing your neck, while the other travelled southwards until it reached his crotch and held it over the trousers, feeling his cock stiffen. Jungkook groaned—a vibration to your skin—in retaliation lifting your skirt. You’d thought he'd take his time, tease you, but after ensuring you were wet enough by gliding his middle finger along your core, he slid it inside and began making beckoning motions.

“Master…” you moaned, legs shaking. Jungkook forsook your neck to pull back, watch how you struggled to keep it together as he added another finger, curling and uncurling them both, hitting all the right places, and unwilling to give him that satisfaction without consequences you groped his erection with the same vigour. Although he was in good control of his expression, his breath quivered against your lips, so he kissed them again, biting hard into your lower one.

He exhaled, “You’re driving me to sin…”

Indeed, the same fingers that held the brushes when he painted religious artwork were buried deep inside your cunt, bringing you the most sinful ecstasy. It made you chuckle. Jungkook took that as the mockery it was and, crossed, pulled his fingers out of you to drag you by the arm to the edge of the table, where he had you sit. Without delay he lifted your skirt again, only this time he also pulled down his trousers to reveal his cock, thick and throbbing, which he pumped as he watched you spread your legs eagerly, ready to take all of him.

With his free hand Jungkook cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip, coated with saliva and reddened still from when he’d bit it. He could sense your desire, that you craved him inside, had for a while. Desperately. And however much tempted he was to make you beg for it, his own arousal led his cock to your entrance and eased it inside already, another groan hitting the back of his bared teeth. You didn’t have time to gasp, his thrusts so quick they earned only moans, so wonderful did it feel.

Jungkook’s hand on your cheek then wrapped around your neck. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasised strangling you?”

You chuckled again as you slapped him across the face. Jungkook halted his movements in shock, glared at you. “And I slapping you?”

It took him a moment, but he scoffed and pushed you back so that you were lying down, climbing next atop you, confident that the wooden table was sturdy enough to hold both. So legs hooked around his torso and arms around his neck, you welcomed his thrusts, rough enough to make your eyes water. But it felt heavenly, how he ravished you... The mutual irritation and tension building up for over half a year translated into indescribable pleasure.

He kissed you again, flicking his tongue against yours as he pounded into you without mercy. Overwhelmed by the sensation, all you could do to express you were nearing your limit was sink your nails into Jungkook’s biceps at each side of you, moan inside his mouth. He took the hint and fucked you as fast as his body would allow, within mere seconds your walls clenching tight around him. The sight of you collapsing under him, overcome with bliss, made him reach his own highest shortly, spurting his warm seed inside you.

As his movements gradually ceased, so did your panting. Before a complete silence fell, you asked, “Am I still to marry Jimin?”

Jungkook grabbed your face and growled against your pouted lips, “You’re not going anywhere.”

"it's so hot, i'm literally gonna melt" you complain while removing your shirt, leaving you wearing just a bra. you raise your arms above your head, extending your fingertips towards the air conditioning vent to feel the cool breeze directly.

"come back to bed," yunho emits a groan from his spot in your bed, sprawled out on the covers resembling a starfish. he's wearing nothing but his chelsea t-shirt and boxers.

"why would i do that, we're both sweating like crazy," you mutter, your eyes shut tightly as you try to absorb every bit of the refreshing breeze.

"don't stand in front of the ac, you'll catch a cold," he says, shifting onto his side to gaze at you. a smile forms on his face as he appreciates your appearance. you're dressed in a plain white bra and his matching chelsea shorts. "why don't you take off the shorts and show me something good, tiny."

without responding or turning around to face him, you choose to express your annoyance by flipping him off, enjoying the sensation of the cool breeze against your perspiring skin. his laughter fills the air, and you sense him rising from the bed. suddenly, his warm hand wraps around your waist, creating a comforting sensation. you find yourself automatically smiling at his touch, as if your body instinctively responds to him without needing permission.

he allows both of you to tumble onto the bed, resulting in you landing on top of him with a startled "mmphf" escaping your lips. he playfully rolls you both around, causing you to end up beneath him, his larger frame enveloping you and pressing you deeper into the mattress. as a sense of panic overwhelms you, you begin to scream, and your screams mingle with his laughter. desperate to free yourself, you push against him with all your might, but he remains firmly in place, refusing to budge.

the piercing sound of your screams is abruptly halted as your other boyfriend enters the room, balancing a tray with three cups of what appears to be icy slush. disregarding the situation, he nonchalantly tosses his keys onto the nearest piece of furniture and hands a slush to yunho, who is still chuckling while keeping you pinned down with one forearm pressed against your chest.

"seonghwa tell him to leave me alone, i'm gonna die," you whine helplessly, attempting to give him your most pleading puppy-dog eyes. however, he simply gazes at you, taking slow sips from his strawberry slushie. the sunlight streaming through the windows accentuates his dark under-eye circles, making them appear even more pronounced, casting shadows on his handsome face.

"i don't have time for this," he sighs, clearly exasperated. yunho's laughter intensifies, finding the situation incredibly amusing, knowing well that he's the one who persuaded seonghwa to engage in late-night gaming sessions until sunrise. you adore yunho and his playful, puppy-like personality, but his boundless energy can be exhausting, especially when you're pinned down, struggling for breath. feeling defeated, you gaze at your untouched slushie, resting silently on the nightstand beside you.

"yunho, i'm sweating so much right now, i don't think you wanna be this close to me," you attempt to persuade your boyfriend to move away, but he looks at you with a perplexed expression. he leans down and presses his head against your neck, and you feel his tongue, cold from his drink, glide from the base of your neck to the side of your jaw. "what the fuck! get off!" you forcefully place your palms against his chest and manage to push him away, creating enough space for you to peer down at his smirking face.

"you taste good," he smiles in response, his tone casual as if he didn't just do the most out of pocket shit you've ever witnessed.

"move," seonghwa grumbles as he slips into his side of the bed beside you. he briefly closes his eyes, allowing a moment of rest while yunho nudges both of you to the left on the spacious bed. seonghwa sits up again, removing his t-shirt just as you did earlier. your gaze wanders over the expanse of his well-defined chest, sweat causing his abs to gleam in the sunlight, giving his physique an almost ethereal quality

"thirsty?" you hear yunho whisper in your ear, and you can sense that he caught on to the way you glanced at seonghwa, implying a sexual undertone. however, you genuinely feel parched and in need of a drink.

"yeah, seonghwa please?" you request, pointing towards the nearby cup behind him. he turns to you and goes to retrieve it, but instead of handing it to you, he brings the straw to his own lips, savoring the taste of the orange beverage, "fuck i knew i should've taken peach, it's so fucking good."

he turns towards you and laughs upon witnessing your betrayed expression. "don't look at me like that, i just wanted to taste, here baby take," he says, taking another sip before pushing yunho away from your body. he then brings his lips to yours, guiding the liquid into your mouth, and you willingly accept it, feeling it slide down your throat as his tongue brushes against the roof of your mouth. pulling back, he licks the trail of liquid that had escaped your mouth and landed on the side of your cheek.

"want more?" he asks, and when you nod in agreement, he pushes the straw to yunho's lips.

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