
290 posts
Play It As It Lays
Play It As It Lays
[taehyung x reader] [1.5k smut: mirror sex, creampie, unprotected sex, virgin kink??, really just porn with a lil bit of plot; Taehyung is a famous Cellist who was hired to tutor OC.
Just a self-indulgent fic.
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People said to never meet your heroes.
You'll be let down, they say.
But you would beg to differ.
And beg, you do.
With your bodies sitting naked on the couch, Taehyung has you facing the mirror and the sight of your petite frame slotted between his bulging naked thighs shoots up your arousal. Your perfectly intertwined limbs could inspire a whole series of shunga artwork.
Calloused hands grip each of your knees and push them wider apart before a hand returns to cup your dripping sex.
"Please," you whine. The words that fell from your swollen lips were almost incomprehensible because of how breathy and timid it sounded.
But that was just one of Kim Taehyung's effect.
The man lives up to his reputation in the Classical music industry—charisma just as alluring as people described and his presence calls for attention, not because he, himself, demands it, rather there is something lingering in his aura that just lures and pulls you into him. And when he looks at you, it's a mixed feeling of intimidation and desire to keep his eyes on you.
And to you, it makes you want to defy him. You itch to see if you can crack that calm and stoic demeanor of his.
Taehyung only hums in response to your plea and you feel his chest rumble on your back. It's close to an hour and yet all he did with his finger was tease you. Everything he has done was all build-up, never the climax.
"You're so delicate." His lips graze your ear as he whispers to you. His body is so close, you hear the wet smacking of his tongue inside his mouth as he speaks. He dips his fingers inside your pussy as he presses his thumb on your nub, leaving you shuddering in pleasure. "And so sensitive. My pretty virgin," he tsks. "You're making a mess, darling."
You mumble out a half-hearted apology to which he snorts at. You struggle to keep your tears at bay. Frustration and defeat are obviously written on your face. If only you knew how to touch yourself, you would've done the job yourself. But no. You can play with yourself all you want, but you've never experienced an orgasm. And none of what Taehyung does to your body now matches the pleasure when you touch yourself.
And so, you remain at his mercy.
It was torture to be teased, but the way Taehyung's arm muscle clenches and your body twitches has your attention stuck to the mirror. It was as if his hand was a bow and your body held the strings that create the most beautiful melodies.
His right hand pushes in and out of you in timed intervals and his left hand grips your neck, arms across your body to hold you close to his. It was oh-so-intimate.
But of course, this was also a way for Taehyung to restrain you.
"Take it," he lectured when your body thrashed around from sensitivity. "The pleasure is tenfold if you endure it. Just like playing the cello—a sublime piece is achieved from laborious and seemingly endless revisions. So, take it."
The growing warmth between you has you both sweating—the smell of sex in the air grows potent by the minute, pushing you further into your shared haze.
You don't mind that all Taehyung does is play with your body. He can do whatever he wants to you for all you care. But you also have this feral need to learn about his body—play with his cock and grip it as tight as you hold your instrument in place between your thighs. You want to hear the sounds he makes as you play with his body. He has been hearing you chant his name with moans and sighs in different pitches; it's his turn to sing.
You focus on Taehyung's hand disappearing and reappearing from your cunt. The velvet couch that carries your bodies is vandalized with your slick and his precum. His hands are truly just as skilled in playing the cello as it is in flitting around your body. You can almost taste it again—your sweet peak.
But you can't come like this. Not yet.
Your hand halts Taehyung's movement, tongue darting to wet your lips, "S-stop," you stutter. His eyes meet yours in the mirror, one eyebrow raising in question. And so, with your senses still muffled with lust, you try your best to answer clearly, "Wanna cum on your cock, sir.”
Your legs wobbled as you changed positions—you're now kneeling on the floor with his thick dick right on your face. You gulp at Taehyung's size but also swallow the pooling drool in your mouth.
You ought to thank your parents for hiring Taehyung to give you private lessons. Albeit this isn't the lesson they had in mind, you personally think this is more… beneficial for you.
Without wasting another second, your hand grips his base to erect his cock and you run your warm tongue from his balls to his slit. The man above you throws his head back as air is expelled from his pretty lips. He leans his body backward, arms propping him up and he sets his eyes on you. "You're a feisty little thing, aren't you?"
You only respond with a smirk; smug eyes refusing to look away as you make a big show of sucking his tip like it’s the sweetest lollipop.
You're halfway there, you encourage yourself. You want to see the moment you break him.
Mimicking a move you watched on porn, you wet your hands with your slick before returning your hold on Taehyung's dick. With one hand stroking him up and down, your other hand caresses his balls within your palms like two delicate marbles.
Taehyung curses. You were sin incarnated.
Determined to get more from him, you push your head closer to his crotch, deep-throating his cock.
Unexpected and unprepared, Taehyung makes a guttural wail; his arm shoots up to hold you by your hair and his body reflexively sits up and pushes his cock at another deep angle inside your mouth which pulls another moan from the man.
You fight the urge to gag, and your eyes start to flood with tears. You could only claw at Taehyung's thighs.
Taehyung was quick to gather his wits and then chuckled at your state. His hand on your hair moves to cup your face before smudging your mascara as he wipes your tears before they fall.
"Come up," he instructs as he pulls his cock from your mouth. A plop is heard, and a string of your saliva mixed with his precum lingers from your lips. Taehyung's hands take control of your hips—his bruising hold guides you to sink down to his cock until you take all of him, pulling a pained moan from you.
Taehyung is a tight fit, and you fight through the initial discomfort as you move your hips. You teeter between the stinging stretch and warm addicting pleasure.
With a satisfied groan, Taehyung gently guides your head to level your sight with the full-length mirror and holds you in place. "Take a look at yourself. You look as heavenly as you sound," his voice in your ear is so soft and saccharine, you believe him. "And see how well you take me like a good girl," he praises, the tone switching to a little bit strained as your pussy clenches—the pain morphing to lust and desire. His hand goes back to your hips to help you ride his cock. The minimal movement gives you both pleasurable tugs, you can't help but moan.
With his thighs now caged between your own, you momentarily bend down to kiss his knees. Your action has him throwing his head back once again. But his eyes trail down to your curved spine all the way down to your ass perched on his hips.
Deciding that you've adjusted to his cock, Taehyung bounces your hips on his cock. The sight of your arousal creaming around his crotch has him salivating. As much as he wants to lick you clean, he badly needs a release. It's a miracle he lasted almost more than an hour.
You plant your feet on the ground and start moving at your own pace. Each slam of your ass on his thighs reverberated in the room as if cheering you on as you bounced faster and harder on his cock.
A contrast of warmth and shivers washed over your body as Taehyung laid open-mouth kisses on your back. As he reaches your neck, he sucks on the soft flesh to claim you, mark you—so you remember this night which will be the first of many. He promises.
You grab and tug at his hair to pull him toward your puckered lips and he obliges. The echoing sound in the room is no longer just your skin slapping but the smacking sound of your lips as you breathe each other in.
"Sir-r, I-I’m close," you stutter out between kisses amidst overwhelming pleasure. Taehyung meets your thrusts halfway. And as your pace increases, so does the frequency of the moans of the man behind you.
With a powered thrust, your body trembles as you climax. Taehyung follows not long after—your pussy spasming around his dick has him shooting up his cum inside you as he wraps you in his arms.
People who warned you to never meet your heroes, clearly never had the privilege of meeting Kim Taehyung.
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More Posts from Elusivecagedmockingbird
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Orbiting: pt.1°
[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [600+ idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, both has the libido of a teenage boy, it's so cliche it's unbelievable how clueless they are]
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“Don’t stop baby,” Jungkook moans. He love-hates how you're slowly bouncing on top him. On one hand, he loves how you use him to pleasure yourself, slowly sinking inch by inch until you spear yourself on his cock. On the other, he wants nothing else than to fuck you dumb and to his pace—hard and unrelenting, he wants nothing spilling on your lips but his name and moans of pleasure.
"Come on, Y/N," he urges as he tries to thrust into you, his cock impaling you on top of him and you can't help but moan louder. "Fuck," you pant, "do that again." And so he does, planting his feet on the bed, his hips angled, he pistons his cock into you, bottoming out. Your body goes pliant above him as you submit yourself to your shared pleasure, your mouths move like magnets finding each other and momentarily locking in a heated kiss.
Jungkook reaches for your hand, brings it to his lips to kiss your knuckles, and it has you fucked. It's small gestures like this that makes not only your pussy clench, but your heart, too. It just feels too intimate, as if you're more than good friends seeking each other out after his game for a good fuck to relax his adrenaline.
Needing to ground yourself, you pin his hand beside his head and pull him for another kiss. Because a kiss, you can handle. You've kissed many times before—your lips already familiar to his teasing bites, your tongues danced sloppily around each other's mouth a thousand times.
With intertwined hands on the bed and the other rubbing your clit, you unravel within minutes. Jungkook erratically thrusts below you, chasing his high, until heavy grunts leave his lips as he cums.
"Fuck, that was..." you pant, mind blanking as you look for the right word, still in a bliss. Jungkook only chuckles, hand caressing your back, basking in your afterglow.
But the moment is short-lived, and Jungkook eyes you as you pull away, "Second round at my place?"
"Not today," you pout, "I have to be at the rink in about...5 minutes."
"Can I watch?"
"Nope. Coach says it's closed practice for today. Something about a new skater coming in for tryouts." You're rushing to get dressed and Jungkook helps by fixing your skirt.
"Again?"
"Yep, apparently the last guy said I was too much of a bitch to skate with," Jungkook sees you roll your eyes. "Ah. That just means he can't keep up and you bruised his ego."
"Right," you humor him, watching him pull away to pick up his clothes, "you said that about the last guy, too."
Jungkook hums, "Him, too."
"And what about you? You can keep up with me, right?"
Knowing where the conversation's going, Jungkook faces you, "Y/N, that was for fun. And we were teens then," he chuckles, "I tackle men now and hit pucks on the ice," he's walking back to you, "none of what I do fits the graceful criteria your coach is looking for."
You giggle, having already known his answer but it's worth the ask because you've seen Jungkook bust a move on ice. Granted, not as graceful as you, but even you started out stiff.
"Right," strands of your bangs fall on your face as you nod, and Jungkook's hands, like habit, reach out to tuck your hair behind your ear. The gesture not lost on you and your knees buckle. If only there were no consequences from missing today's practice, you would gladly suck his cock dry right here and now.
"Plus, seeing the routines you do, there would be too much tension building between us that by the middle of a routine," his eyes flicker to your lips, "I might end up taking you on ice."
Oh, you are his to ruin. If only he knew.
Pulling your mind out of the gutter, you scoff, eyes rolling once again and push him by the chest. Again, Jungkook only laughs as he takes your hand and leads you out of the lockers.
-
>> Part 2
Come Doused In Mud
[contortionist!jimin x reader] [3.1k+ smut, yandere, ‼️ nonconsensual/dubious con sex, kidnapping, allusion to drugs, dark themes] This is the next and final part of Come As You Are. Thank you to everyone who gave this fic a chance and read it. Love u!
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"I'm telling you, it was really weird, Tae," you complain to your friend as you pull him out of the tent—away from the show, away from the creepy man. "He was staring the whole time, and I couldn't break away, but I wanted to."
Taehyung chuckles, strangely finding amusement in what you are saying. "It was probably an act—fixate on one of the audience. Either way, these shows, they're all smoke and mirrors. We came here to have fun, yes?"
Your nerves were still buzzing with unease. Taehyung sees you close off and offers you his drink to appease you while his thumb circles your knuckles in an attempt to ground you. "We should at least go on a few rides," he suggests. "And while we go around, I'll make sure to protect you from creepy contortionists." Your friend makes a big show of puffing out his chest. His obvious gleaming mood is a huge contrast to yours. It almost doesn't bother you that despite your attempt to convey your discomfort, he had been too consumed with his high from the show.
But you realize you like him like this. You like that you're someone whose company he enjoys, and he's comfortable enough with you to let loose and be childish.
With a newfound determination to keep that boxy grin on Taehyung's face, you nod and agree to stay a little longer—go on a ride of his choice and maybe go back to the burger stand you skipped last week.
Also, if you allow yourself to be deluded, you can pretend you were out on a date with him. Tonight could be a fleeting glimpse of what it means to be like a couple. And here, you were in your own bubble with Taehyung. It truly felt like bliss, minus the creepy show you just witnessed.
“Come on," Taehyung tugs at your intertwined hands, pulling you out of your inner monologue. "Let’s see what’s there.” His free hand points to a mirror maze while he swings both your arms as he leads you to the labyrinth.
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“Are we supposed to do something here?” You and Taehyung walk deeper into the center of the maze and as you go further, the light dims. "I mean, what's the point?"
Taehung shrugs in response. “The man said there was a prize in the middle of the maze.” His head turns left and right, hands still clasped together as he leads you through the maze.
You stop walking as you encounter another crossroad, the endless mirrors on each end and lack of light making you dizzy and nauseous. Not to mention that the longer you've been in the maze, with each passing second, your lulled anxiety resurges.
A shudder runs through you, and you can't help but feel the weight of unseen gazes following you and Taehyung. Reaching for Taehyung's hand, you pull him to take the lead. "Come on, Tae," your voice strained with anxiety. "In rigged games like this, left is always the shortest path to the exit, I'm sure of it."
Taehyung, on the other hand, wanted to take in everything. For some reason, he remained unbothered by your growing unease. Usually, he was good at sensing and reading you, but today, he remained partly oblivious. "What's the rush?" He tugs his limbs back, hands gripping yours tighter. "Come on, Y/N. I think we should go right. It could be fun."
"What fun can you have here?" You reason, free hand gesturing to the dingy mirrors and dusty panels.
Great. Not only do you feel nauseous, but you're pretty sure you now feel an oncoming migraine.
Your disagreement echoed off the mirrors, each reasoning bouncing back and forth. You were now growing frustrated. Meanwhile, Taehyung looked unperturbed, excited even—fueled by adrenaline and his 'sense of adventure'.
“Okay, you know what? Why don’t we split, and we'll just meet outside after,” he proposes.
It was a compromise. Sure. But if you were honest, you were also scared of walking alone. You look at Taehyung one last time, hoping he takes pity on you, but he remains unmoved. With a resigned sigh, you agree with a nod. Taehyung lets you walk your way first, and when you disappear from his sight after taking another turn, he takes his.
-
Frustration gnawed at your insides as you tried to jump and peek through the panels and mirrors, attempting to catch a glimpse of Taehyung or anything that would get you the fuck out of here. Yet, somehow, as the sun sets outside, the place only seemed to grow darker as nothingness bounced off of each surface.
As if to mock you, the dull fluorescent overhead began to flicker erratically, the flashing lights and shadows worsening your migraine and fueling your paranoia.
You really needed to get out of here. Now.
Screaming Taehyung's name, tears start to well up in your eyes. The weight of isolation began to sink into you, and your breaths came in shallow gasps as fear tightened its grip around you.
Oh god. Not now.
You feel around your pockets for your phone and curse when your hands come empty. Remembering you forgot to take your phone from Taehyung, you curse at everything around you—fuck this maze, fuck your jeans for having tiny pockets. Fuck everything. Your vision blurs as you let a sob out.
Looking up, you're met with your reflection. And you could not shake the unnerving sensation that someone—or something—else lurked just beyond your reflection. Mustering up your courage, you resume navigating around the mirror maze with hesitant steps. Suddenly, you hit your face in a mirror from abruptly turning around at the sight of a passing figure from your peripheral vision. You let out a pained groan, your hands shooting up to hold your assaulted nose.
Fuck.
“Tae, is that you?” You wince, eyes squinting, trying to make out your friend's face in the dim room.
"Tae, come on. You're not being funny. I'm really creeped out."
A minute of silence passed before you were answered. “Your friend is gone,” the voice singsongs.
A shaky breath leaves your lips. Okay, it's not Taehyung. But you refuse to think of the worst yet. Maybe this person can help you out. You clear your throat and address the man, “Hi, do you work here?” Feeling your way through mirrors, not wanting to slam your face again, you carefully feel your way around the maze. You’re not even sure if you’re walking closer to a mirrored image or the man himself.
“Could you please show me the way out? I think I broke my nose.” Though you don’t really think your nose is broken, you just hope he would feel sorry for you. And not to point fingers, but you getting hurt was partly his fault for appearing out of nowhere.
A light from outside pierces and bounces through the mirrors, briefly illuminating the place brighter, allowing you to get a quick glimpse of the man.
You freeze at the familiar face you're confronted with. The performer, contortionist, the man from the show earlier was already looking at you when your eyes found his. It wasn’t like a perchance glance like yours but more of a fixed glare. As if he knew exactly where you stood.
You stop shuffling within the space, hands getting clammy, and the room closes in on you. You don't know where to move, but you need to distance yourself from this man.
The shrieking laughter of a child running outside the tent breaks the eerie silence, and your head turns towards the noise. Resigning to the fact that no one could help you, especially this man, you try to follow the sound of mixed chatters and fanfare.
Heart pounding in your chest, you picked up your heavy feet forward. But with every turn you took, every corridor you rushed towards, you found yourself face to face with yet another dead end.
You refuse to give up.
You screamed Taehyung's name again, shrieked for help, and made any noise that would alarm anyone outside.
You will get out of here.
Hearing another laugh from outside, you turn to the source and run with desperation.
Your view turns dark as the bulb completely burns out. You could no longer see anything. As if the entrance to the maze disappeared into the dark. Immobilized by fear, all you could do was crouch. You'll fucking crawl your way out of here if you have to. You're pawing at the dry grass and dirt, telling yourself to put aside your disgust. You.have.to.get.out.of.here.
Then, just as you think you're making progress in the right direction, your fingers freeze upon feeling something unexpected—a sudden, jarring sensation freezes you in place. You recoiled instinctively, heart pounding in your chest as you realized what you had touched.
A foot.
The realization added a surge of fear coursing through your veins, your mind racing with a thousand terrifying possibilities. Again, you refuse to jump to the worst possibility.
No.
Not long after, you feel a warm breath ghost across your face, followed by a soft voice. "There you are."
It sounded so mellow, as if harmless. But your gut tells you it's anything but that. You feel a pair of rough hands hoist you up by your underarms. You squeal like caged piglets and fight against the person holding you. But before you can scream bloody murder, a striking force knocks you out.
-
Blinking against the harsh stream of light that flooded your vision, you turn sideways to make sense of your surroundings.
"Tae," you mumble—mouth dry and voice hoarse. You feel drilling in your head and your right eye twitches from the prickling pain.
Finally adjusting to the light, you find yourself lying in an unfamiliar room. The first thing you clearly see is the bright bedding draped on you, then a wall adorned with photographs. You force your eyes to make sense of the images, and you regret it. Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the images of you.
Each snapshot was supposed to be a happy memory of you and Taehyung from your first visit to the carnival. But now, you feel repulsed at the immortalized moment, knowing that behind the lights and festivity, darkness lurked. Just as your gut tried to warn you.
You start to wail. And your cries for help grow louder as you realize your hands are chained to the bedpost.
Someone comes closer to you. He plops himself beside you to the bed, demanding your attention. His eyes are alight with a strange mixture of intensity and malice. "Welcome home, Y/N," he smiled. The man reached out a hand, brushing your hair with his fingers. You flinch from his touch and struggle against the restraints.
It takes a minute for your wailing to turn to sensible words. "Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?"
But as you wait for an answer, all you are greeted with is a chilling calmness that you don't share. "Please," you beg.
He remains silent. His fingers still playing with your hair. "Don't you remember me? It's me, Jimin," he introduces himself with a smile.
You thrash around, wanting to mess up his pristine bed, anything that would show him you were against being here.
"Y/N," he calls your name, his voice still calm. Your response is a hard glare. You would curse at him, but you don't trust your voice not to break or turn to sobs again.
"Don't cry, baby." His hands leave your hair to thumb at your creased forehead. "Ever since I saw you, I knew it was you; it had to be you," his words dripping with an unsettling mix of obsession and conviction, "my soulmate."
"You're fucking crazy," you spit your words out; raspy but determined. Disliking your accusation, you stare at you until you shift from discomfort. The weight of his gaze bearing down on you like a suffocating blanket.
"You shouldn't resist, my dear," he deadpans. "We're bound by the red string of fate, tethered together, forever." His face closes in yours and noses at your cheek. His breath was hot against your ear as he resumed talking.
"You felt it too, didn't you?" he whispered, his voice a sinister hiss. "The tug of that thread when you first set foot into my carnival, my home. You cannot deny it any longer."
Your pulse raced with terror as you struggled to comprehend the depth of his delusion. You tried to speak, to protest, but your words were caught in your throat like a knot, choking off any plea, even curse and demeaning words you wanted to shout at him.
How the fuck are you supposed to reason with a crazy man?
Jimin's fingers trail along the curve of your shoulders. "You are finally home, my dear," he murmurs, his touch sending a wave of revulsion coursing through your veins. But you couldn't do anything but take it.
He presses a peck to your cheek. Sensing no movement from you, he slots his lips to yours.
At this, you react violently, your body thrashing to move as far away as you can from him. Your balled fists swing to his face but fall limp, and your feet locked in place tight; you couldn't even push yourself further away from the man.
"Get the fuck away from me," you screech. Guttural screams leave your mouth as you tug at the binds on your limbs.
"Tsk, you're making this difficult, Y/N." He secures your ties, the binds getting tighter, leaving your arms and legs completely immobile.
"I'll show you how good I can be for you, my dear."
-
"Please," you sob, "Please, enough," the last plea comes out as a moan.
Jimin continuously laps at your cunt, his head locked between your trembling thighs. You twist and turn your body to repel him, but Jimin's head only tilts to look at you. His eyes meet yours, and your breath catches in your throat as you are drawn into the depths of his dilated pupils.
Tingles run on Jimin's back, and if possible, his dick stiffens even more. He's exhilarated as he saw a reflection of his own desire mirrored—a passion so intense it threatened to consume you both. Finally.
He knew you were loving this. He knew he was going to have you. And he thinks he already has.
Unable to tear his gaze away, Jimin feels you gradually surrender to the irresistible pull of his hunger. Your defenses dissolved easily like the cotton candy you loved to wrap your tongue around. Arousal spurts from his cock at the thought of having your sweet tongue wrapped around him. Like cotton candy.
He dives back between your thighs and grazes his teeth to your nub. With his fingers prodding inside you in a come-hither motion, you come undone again for the third time. You're full-on panting as you regulate your breathing. Jimin kneels, and your eyes follow him. He was a sinful delight—lips glistening with your arousal, cheeks flushed, and his cock stands tall and weepy.
He notices your lidded eyes as you stare at his cock and chuckles. "Don't worry. I'll let you feel me sooner than later," he cajoles.
You couldn't find your sanity. You should be resisting, screaming, doing anything to make this difficult for him, but your body just resigns—pliant, submissive to his. You hesitantly bend your knees as far as your bounds let you and ready yourself for him.
With one swooping motion, Jimin leans closer to your body and lines his hard cock to your pussy. You moan in unison as he sinks his tip inside you. His other hand caressed your cheek, and you surprised yourself further as you leaned in. At this, Jimin smiles and smashes his lips to yours. Your mouth locks in a heated, hungry kiss.
Letting his love pour from every pore and hole, Jimin pushes his shaft inside you. The feeling of his bare cock and thick girth pulls an animalistic reaction from you—your nails indent his flawless skin, and your teeth sink to his shoulder, devouring him in all ways. Jimin's hand cups your ass to pull you towards his thrusting hips, his hunger for you never-ending.
And finally, he thinks, you've surrendered to your need for him as well.
A sigh leaves his lips as you move your grip from his back to brush through his hair. He trails kisses along your neck going to your collarbones, each peck turning into love bites. You whimper at the sting, and your lover grows feral at the melodies of your pleasure.
If possible, he would weld you two together like this—forever tangled in euphoria and pleasure. Jimin's hand dips between your compressed bodies, fingers traveling from your tits, taking his time tracing patterns on every skin he touches until he reaches his destination—your clit. His eyes stay on your face as he watches your face contort in pleasure to every flick and motion of his fingers to your pussy.
You stare back, as if beckoning him to cum with you. And so he does.
Your body trembles like aftershocks, and Jimin feels his cock protest in sensitivity.
This is wrong, you think as you have your arms wrapped around your captor. But letting him have his way with you, somehow felt right. This felt like home.
-
Jimin watches you slumber. His index finger softly traces the slope of your nose. "My beautiful Y/N."
He secures your wrist to the bedpost once again after making love to you. He couldn't risk it yet. Sure, you were no longer screaming at his face, but it's too early, he decides. You've been with him for a week now, and in those seven days, you’ve done nothing but fuck.
A patterned knock pulls his gaze from you.
About damn time.
Jimin opens the door to a grinning man. "Took you long enough," he sneers.
His friend only huffs, "Well, excuse you. I had to deal with the missing reports. Her friends are fucking persistent, and I had to play my part."
"Well, is it dealt with?" Jimin pours water for him and his visitor.
"It's not hitting the local news yet, but I feel like it will die down in a few days." His guest waves off the offered water. "You and I know what could be in that water."
Jimin scoffs. "Why the fuck would I want you passed out in my home." The man across from him just shrugs in response, then says his goodbye.
"Hey, Taehyung," your so-called friend raises his brows, awaiting Jimin's next words, "Thanks for the help with Y/N. I owe you one."
Taehyung only wiggles his eyebrows. He chances a look over Jimin's shoulders to peek at you lying on the bed across the room, then pulls the door close as he leaves.
-
Orbiting: pt.5
: pt.1° | pt.2° - pt.2,5° | pt.3° | pt.4°
[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [3.5k smut: ‼️ choking kink, angst, fluff—I think everything's in here] Thank you to everyone who followed and read this fic! I think I tried to fit as much as I could in this chapter to wrap it up, while trying to be consistent with the plot despite cutting it to fewer chapters. Still, here's to an enjoyable read for you guys! Hot off the press, so it's not proofread.
-
The cold air hangs heavy in the rink as you glide across the ice with Jimin. You move in perfect synchrony, your movements fluid and graceful.
For a minute.
Then, you're back to stumbling over your own feet and disrupting the routine. Jimin manages to steady you, but the exhaustion is evident on his face. You offer a sheepish apology and look back to your coach. A stern expression on her face.
"Y/N, focus! We can't afford to keep making these mistakes." She follows you and Jimin skate in a circle by the sidelines. You nod to acknowledge her, and you let your sight wander to the stands, hoping to see Jungkook sitting at one of the seats.
But you only see vacant bleachers. Suddenly, the argument from earlier sits heavier on your heart.
You miss Jimin's cue for a lift and his hold on you slips before you can even secure the move. You fell mid-lift, and Jimin lost his balance, his feet crossing to regain his footing, but it was too late. He pulls you into him as he uses his own body to break your fall. In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still as your mind tried to catch up on what had just happened.
"Fucking fuck," Jimin groans below you, clearly in pain and struggling to breathe.
Your coach rushes onto the ice, her expression a mixture of concern and frustration. She knelt beside your crumpled forms, assessing the situation with a practiced eye before calling for an ambulance.
"Jimin, are you okay?" Her attention was on your partner, as it should be, but you wince at her dismissal of you. This was clearly your fault. You knew that the failed lift was a result of your carelessness and lack of focus. With a strained voice, you apologize to Jimin.
He only shook his head, his expression a mix of disappointment and concern. It must have been pity from seeing you hold your shoulder that he assures you. "Accidents happen, Y/N. Don't worry."
"We need to make sure you're both alright. Let's get you off the ice and check for any injuries." Mrs. Jeon helps you both to your feet. Her attention remains on Jimin.
As you retreat from the rink, the guilt and feeling of defeat dawns on you. And you wish you had Jungkook to cheer you up.
-
The hospital hallway was quiet; the only sound was the soft shuffle of your footsteps as you made your way to Jimin's room. You carried a box of chicken in your hand, a small gesture of apology for the accident that had landed him here.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you approached the door. You hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to knock gently.
The door creaked open, revealing Jimin lying in bed, his face pale but his eyes brightening at the sight of you.
"Hi," you croak out. "I brought you chicken." You wave the box as you step into the room.
"Ah, finally! I've been starving." Jimin sits up and pulls the table so you can place the food directly in front of him. He smiles at you as thanks.
"You're staying, right? I'm hungry, but there's no way I can eat all of these by myself." You agree and watch him take his first bite. Genuinely laughing at his exaggerated bit of enjoying the chicken.
Jimin moves and gestures for you to sit beside him. And you do.
You grind your teeth, thinking about how to start your apology speech when he beats you to talking.
"I feel like I need to tell you this," Jimin holds your hand, his tone serious, and in turn, you face him to show you're listening. "We're a team, Y/N. When one of us makes a mistake, we both learn from it to be better."
Your eyes brim with tears, touched by Jimin's understanding. He was the one in pain, and yet he's the one making you feel better.
"I'm so sorry, Jimin," you hiccup. "I promise I'll do better."
He squeezes your folded hands in his—the touch a comforting reassurance. You were about to dig in for a chicken wing when the door to Jimin's room swung open.
Your eyes widen at the sight of a sweaty Jungkook.
"Oh, Jungkook?" Jimin's head pops out from your side. Your position and intertwined hands are not lost on you.
And obviously this is what Jungkook only sees.
"Are you—" "Gguk, it's not—" "Sorry, I must be—" All three of you rush out words from your mouths. The sound was a garbled mess of someone talking over someone. Everyone wanting to be heard first.
Jungkook clears his throat. "Sorry, I must be in the wrong room," he rushes and slams the door close.
Breaking Jimin's grip on yours, you clear your throat. Jimin looks at you with a sly smile.
"What?" Your tone is defensive, and your eyes elude his stare.
"Aren't you going after him?" Jimin resumes eating his chicken, and strangely, he still holds that sly look on his face. You excuse yourself, and he only responds with a nod, his mouth clearly busy tearing up the chicken leg.
-
Jungkook storms down the hallway, his jaw tense, and hands clenched into fists at his sides. Behind him, you call his name desperately.
"Jungkook, please, will you wait," you shout. You managed to capture the attention of a couple of nurses, but Jungkook keeps speedwalking out of the hospital. You try to match his long strides and quicken your pace to reach him but fall short.
You can only watch Jungkook as he drives away. And your heart falls to your stomach at the thought that he left for good.
-
You re-enter Jimin's room and see that he's made himself comfortable—bed reclined, a sitcom playing on the television, and he seems to be on his third chicken leg. He's laughing at a stupid scene and turns to point it out to you but stops as he sees you standing by his door, on the verge of tears.
"Oh, Y/N. Everything okay?"
At his question, your dam breaks. You rack out sobs, and your shoulders shake. Jimin feels helpless as he can't stand, instead, he beckons you to come closer.
-
“We’ve been friends for so long, and now, I wonder if we just feel this way because we’ve been together for years. Hell, I survived his snarky exes as he did mine." You chuckle at the memory of 'dealing' with Jungkook's girlfriends. You had the decency to step away from Jungkook when he started dating someone, albeit it hurts. You genuinely wanted Jungkook to be happy in a relationship. But after a few days, it's Jungkook who seeks you out. Inviting you during lunch dates, saying he just wanted his best girls to get along. Somehow, that struck a bad nerve to every girl he was dating at the time.
"What if we find out we’re not better as friends and couldn’t return to how we are?”
“Ah. And how exactly are you now?” Jimin teases.
You didn't know. You both just keep walking out on each other. Obviously, it was your emotions that drove you to these actions. You would argue that you were both reasonable and sensible people, but now you see how every time you were together, all your actions were, perhaps, dramatic and careless.
You sigh. “You know he’s jealous of you?” Your lips curve into a borderline smile and grimace as you look at Jimin. If you were in a better mood, you would find amusement in Jungkook's misplaced jealousy, but right now, what lurks in your mind is the accusation that he thinks you never saw him more than a friend when every day since he drew a bug tattoo on his arm and swore he'll get it permanently so he can have something to remember you by, you started to love him differently. You started to see him as someone you would want to be with every day, so he'll never need something to remember you by because you'll always be beside him.
A chortle from Jimin breaks your reminiscing. “I guess he still remembers me then.” You turn to look at him, brows knitted with confusion, waiting for him to explain what he meant. Jimin takes his time drinking his water before looking at you. His eyes sparkle with mirth and seriousness as if what he’s about to say is something controversial.
“Remember the National Solo Dance in Cape Cod?" You shake your head, still confused about where he's leading with this. "In 2013? This isn’t the first time we’re meeting, Y/N. I mean, at least not for me. You were still skating solo, and I watched your routine. I was in awe at you then, and I wanted to meet you, introduce myself.”
The memory brings a childlike smile to Jimin’s face. “Anyway, cut to the end, everyone was throwing flowers and stuffed ladybugs on the rink, but I wanted to hand you the daisy I held personally. I was waiting by the bleachers when your best friend stood next to me. He must’ve thought I was one of the sweepers, and so he told me he would do it instead. It was ironic since I thought he was also there to pick up your gifts, so I told him I was waiting for you."
"God, I was smitten with how you moved; even as you were bowing, my eyes stayed on you. Jungkook must have seen the infatuated grin I had as you were approaching. I mean, he should know that look; the man had it plastered on his face, too."
"He tried to subtly block you from my view. I tried to squeeze myself in front, but when I saw him hug you, and not just in a friendly way, I knew he wasn’t there to pick up shit.”
“Yeah, I think I remember that day,” you murmur. "I don't remember you, though," you quip with a giggle.
“Of course you wouldn't. Jeon Jungkook made sure you never saw me that day," Jimin scoffed. "Since then, I assumed he was your boyfriend. So, I took a step back. Handed the daisy to the sweeper and admired you from afar." He ends his story with a boop to your nose. Much like how an endearing parent does to a child.
Obviously, this was new information to you. When you think back to that day, you never picked up on Jungkook's action. Though you try not to let it show, you were exhilarated at the thought that maybe Jungkook did really love you since then.
Just like what he said.
Jimin has only known you for a few months, but he can already tell when the cogs in your brain are working overtime. And so, he subtle helps you out one last time. “Y/N, it’s none of my business, and I don’t know you guys that well yet, so I could be wrong, but take my advice or leave it—you have to give Jungkook more credit. I believe the guy has always been sure of how he feels for you. And if what you just said now is also true, then I think you're trading something great for something even better—the best, even."
Gulping air as you take in Jimin's words, your head bobs in agreement. The thought of walking out and leaving Jungkook hurt tugs at your heart harshly. You see Jimin reach out for a tissue, and just when your hands accept it, he wipes his lips before confronting you with more truth.
“He’s been waiting and choosing you since then. It's your turn to choose him now.”
You huff, eyes rolling but you knew Jimin was right. And so, you thank Jimin and leave to look for Jungkook.
-
Your initial plan was to rehearse what you were going to tell Jungkook during your drive to the rink. But as you stand in front of the entrance doors, you're hit with the realization that you hadn't done anything but reminisce about the good old days where you were just best friends.
Just.Best.Friends.
You hated yourself for putting the limiting word—just, beside your friendship.
You let your hand fall from the door handle.
You were being selfish, you think. You both were. You have been friends for years, and in those years, you were great.
When you were best friends, you cried, laughed, and even fought with each other, and still found your way back. Asking to be more than what you have right now is being selfish.
Part of you echoes Jimin's words 'something great for something even better'.
Still, if you go beyond the lines of your friendship with Jungkook, you fear the possibility of irreparable damage in the future. What if you do argue as a couple? Will forgiveness come as easy when you're friends?
Sure. You're tempted with the pride of finally calling himself your boyfriend. Even just thinking about it makes you feel giddy—calling him yours, not because you own him, but he's yours to love and to care for without the pretense. No more pretending to be annoyed everything he asks you to watch his game, instead you can stand proudly on the bleachers, wearing his jersey and cheering him on. You can invite him to your practices without overthinking and the fear of his mother seeing through your masked feelings.
You recoil as the door aggressively opens, the hinges squeaking. But the sight of Jungkook in front of you cancels out the unpleasant sensation in your ear.
"Y/N?" Curious eyes zigzag on your face. "Shouldn't you be in the hospital keeping Park company?" Jungkook walks past you, leaving you just a bit wounded. Your initial reaction was to defend yourself, but decide to act against it. You take a deep breath, as if refueling your courage patience, and follow him.
"I need to apologize to you," your words coming out stuttered and shaky. Hearing this, Jungkook stops to face you. It was like a switch flicked inside him. His face softened, his pettiness giving way to concern. He walks back to you, his shoulders no longer squared up and tense.
"Y/N, you have nothing to be sorry about." Jungkook's lips curve into a warm, reassuring smile. But his eyes stay downcast.
Guilt settles in your gut. Were you at fault for taking away the glimmer in his eyes? Your wait for his eyes to meet yours and when he does, he forces out another smile.
But you know him better.
A heavy sigh leaves your lips at the bittersweet realization that Jungkook's heavy heart could be sinking to the floor and yet he would always set aside how he feels to make sure you're fine. But it is with that realization that brings you to a clear decision.
You look down and lay your palm flat on his chest. You might break if you keep his gaze, and so, you think the best thing to face as you confess was his chest—forget how hard his pecs feel in your hand—rather, this is where his heart is.
"Just listen, please," you plead. You still struggle to find the right words. Was it even possible to put into words the love that grew inside you for your best friend? You were used to acting out how you felt. You believed you already bared your feelings to Jungkook through your caring actions. But maybe, just maybe, you fucked up by failing to pick up that Jungkook needs words. He needs you to tell him how you feel.
He needs clarity. And so do you.
Here goes your everything.
"I shouldn't have walked out on you. But in that moment, everything overwhelmed me and I just couldn’t keep up. One minute I was sucking you off and the next thing I knew you were telling me you loved me and—”
“Love,” Jungkook corrects, cutting you off.
“What?” Your head quickly tilts to look up at him and just so you wouldn't avoid his gaze again, he holds up your chin with this forefinger.
“I love you, Y/N, I always have," he clarifies. "And it's a different, stronger love than being friends. But if you don’t feel the same, or you’re not in the same place as I am, I’m fine with that but will you please just let me know?”
Oh, Jungkook.
"What if we try and it ruins everything?" You hiccup. "If it ruins us and I lose you forever. Jungkook, I don't think I—"
“You’re never gonna lose me." He cuts you off again. "Look, I’m not pushing you to make a decision, I just need you to be honest with me."
You sniffle as he wipes the tears cascading from your eyes with his sleeves. “Whatever you decide, I’m here. I’ll always be here.” Jungkook yet again assures you.
You lean your forehead to his and take a deep breath. Unexpectedly, a soft laugh escapes your lips. But before Jungkook can assume you were laughing at him or were going insane, you were quick to chase those assumptions away.
"If you would have let me finish, I would have told you I love you, too."
"You do?" he stuttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your racing heart.
And his.
You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his. It might be your eyes wetting with tears of happiness, but you think you see the light in Jungkook's eyes come back. "I've felt this way for so long, but I didn't want to risk our friendship. I was scared to lose you because I was asking for too much."
Jungkook tilts his head and his hands rub your arms, whether it was to comfort you or him, it didn't matter. "I was scared too, Y/N," he confesses. "I was ready to take anything you could give me as long as I didn't lose you."
The pooled tears in your eyes fall as heavy as the weight of his words. All this time, you had been dancing around each other, too scared to take the leap.
But now you know. He would always catch you and you would do the same for him.
Something great for something even better—the best.
With a sound decision and heart, you call his name.
-
"Jungkook," your lover's name spills out of your mouth in a breathy moan.
Intertwined in each other's arms, your bodies are pressed together in a tender embrace. Your upper bodies are exposed for anyone entering the locker room to see and at first glance, it's arguably a lovely sight to see, but the echoes of slapping skin and groans of pleasure reveals how Jungkook is fucking away your sanity.
The carnal desire you feel with each drag of his cock to your walls is tenfold. Forget that you're in one of the least romantic places to fuck, because somehow, Jungkook's relentless thrusting inside you, as he holds one leg in his arm and the other raised to his shoulders, feels more charged and fulfilling than all the sex you've had before.
It's like both of you are in heat animals who have been let out after being caged for so long.
Not longer than a minute ago, you just came from his mouth and yet, you feel your orgasm creeping up on you again.
He pulls another wanton moan of his name from you as he angles his cock and rams it into you, his tip hitting your cervix. Your body folds in pleasure and he pushes you back with a grip to your throat.
"This okay?" Jungkook drums his finger to your neck as he waits for your answer. His stiff dick continuously penetrating you.
With mouth agape in silent pants, you whisper a yes. You shut your eyes so your senses can focus on the feeling of his limbs on you. His hands on your neck gets tighter as he fucks you harder.
Jungkook is slowly losing himself in you—getting closer to his own peak. His lidded eyes stay on your face, making sure all you feel is him and pleasure—mindful not to hurt you. He ghosts his lips to yours, catching every squeaky breath you let out with his mouth. He's breathing you in. You're submitting yourself to him and so he takes all of it—whatever you're willing to give.
And you're giving him everything—all of you.
You will your eyes to open, and when you do, you see Jungkook—your boyfriend, your lover, yours, yours, yours.
He closes in for a kiss, merging your bodies, from head to toe, as one. And with one last confession of love to each other, you both climax.
-
Jungkook buttons your shirt as you tug and zip his jeans. The room is silent aside from coy giggles and soft smacks, be it from your lips or Jungkook's hand playfully slapping your ass.
As you and Jungkook leave the locker room, he links his hands with yours and sways your arms back and forth, much like he did when you walked home together in grade school. Except this time, he can leave kisses to your knuckles, and you can let the caged butterflies in your chest flutter all they want.
-
Latibule Spinoff: Elysian
Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader
Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: If you like this, kindly consider reblogging


Masterlist, Part III of __
The drive back to the hospital was blurry to Seokjin. He reminded himself to give Yoongi a call, after all, he did break a lot of traffic rules and regulations just to arrive at the hospital to…why exactly? Why was he so adamant on driving back to the hospital in such a hurry? What was he to do once he saw the reason for his misery?
What exactly was he to do once he got to you? Once he saw you? And what if you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore?
He didn’t have to think long because there you were- smiling so sweetly at the hospital staff, your absence definitely felt not just by him. Everyone noted your absence. You were the sunshine of the hospital and when you left, he felt…unbelievably cold. Nothing was right in his world and he even found a pimple on his glorious forehead this morning! The audacity of such thing to grow on his otherwise lovely and godly face! All because he stayed up all night tossing and turning! It was all because of you that he wasn’t getting his beauty sleep!
He almost believed that he was really affected by your absence, and he wasn’t…was he???
“Oh, Doctor Kim! You’re back!”
He blinked when he heard his staff greeted him, her eyes holding confusion at his sudden appearance. Seokjin understood her, though. After all, he just left not more than an hour ago. He should be at home resting his beautiful face.
He watched as your back stiffened before slowly, and Gods, ever so slowly turned to him. For the life of him, he didn’t know why his breath hitched when you met his eyes. Or why his heart beat faster when he could finally see you. Or why his heart felt uncomfortable when you left.
Was he experiencing a minor myocardial infarction?!
And heavens, why did his cheeks feel a lot warmer when you smiled at him?! Did he now have to pay his dermatologist a visit?!
“Do you need anything, Doctor Kim?” his staff asked him to break the silence when enough moment had passed and yet, the hospital’s director was merely looking at you.
Kim Seokjin finally blinked, wrenching his eyes from your beautiful ones. Your eyes seemed so soulful. He didn’t know why there was a sudden fluttering in his heart, and he did not care to know why at the moment. Instead, he cleared his throat, his gaze briefly dropping on the table of his staff. “I…left my pen.”
“Your pen,” you repeated with a heavy tone of confusion and disbelief.
And there it was, your first words to him after your week-long absence. He was such an idiot, he thought. In his beautiful life, he never thought he would be reduced to calling himself an idiot when he was brilliant! He was always the top in his classes! He was always quoted in the medical research for his intelligence! He was so clever and for the life of him, he didn’t know why he blurted out that sorry excuse.
But there was no way to get himself out of the hole he dug. “Yup. And look, there it is!” he leaned in to grab the pink and glittery hello kitty pen from the staff’s table. “It has sentimental value,” he murmured as though it was all it took to explain the bizarreness of his presence. “I don’t feel comfortable being without it.”
His staff frowned, her mouth opening to protest. “Sir, that’s my daughter’s-”
“Anyway, now that my presence is perfectly explained,” he quipped up and effectively cutting of his staff, he clapped his hand once before turning his full attention on you, completely ignoring the other person. “Where have you been?”
“I’m sorry?” your head tilted at what you heard. Did you hear him right? Never once did he ask you anything, so why start now?
You looked up at his expressive eyes, his plump lips hanging agape as he grappled for words to explain his unusual question. “I-I mean, the hospital is so understaffed and as the chief, it is my responsibility to make sure that this institution runs smoothly. After all, lives depend on us.”
“Sir, my leave was approved by my direct superior,” you said, trying to reason calmly at him.
“But still, one week is still too long. Next time, don’t be gone for a whole week,” he replied back with an air of finality that you definitely did not appreciate. In your barely restrained annoyance, you walked ahead and pushed the elevator button a little too hard before turning to him. You took a deep breath as he only looked down at you, the ridiculous hello kitty pen still clutched in his hand.
“Doctor Kim,” you started with an emphasis to his title. “I’ve only ever been gone one week a year. One. I work even when I’m sick, I attend to my patients even when it’s holiday, even when it’s my birthday, even during the death anniversary of my parents, or even when I’m not scheduled to be at the hospital. Never once did I careless about any of my patients. So please, don’t make it seem like I don’t care.”
“That’s not what I meant-“
“But that’s what you’re implying, Sir,” you snapped back, locking eyes with him, a resolute expression on your face. He didn’t like it, he realized later on. He had grown accustomed to your soft gaze, accustomed to your face lighting up when you looked at him. And now that you were looking at him with the absence of what he was used to, it didn’t sit right with him.
Kim Seokjin would later on realized that he had always ever wanted you to look at him like that, with that undeniable focus and intensity, solely for him.
You averted your gaze away from his as soon as the elevator bell chimed. You were resolute on entering the elevator and getting away from his vicinity when it opened, revealing a patient along with several nurses and doctors bustling to exit and you were on the verge of being caught in the commotion. You were about to get hit when Seokjin encircled your wrist, swiftly pulling you away from the oncoming gurney pushed by the rushing nurses. His hold on your wrist was firm and your brows inevitably pulled together, a flash of pain passing through your face.
None of that went unnoticed by Seokjin.
Seokjin frowned, his eyes trained on your wrist covered by your white coat while you were watching as they hurried to the operating room. He knew he didn’t pull that hard, too aware of his own strength and too unaware of his desire to never hurt you. You didn’t even feel when he pulled up your sleeve. He did it so softly, a glaring proof how terrified he was of further bringing pain on you, regardless of how he never meant to.
And there they were.
Several bruises of varying intensity marked your beautiful skin. Scattered on your forearms were day-old scrapes that looked like they had started healing after causing you pain.
Seokjin's heart clenched with a mix of remorse and an anger that surged within him, fierce and unbridled.
You finally noticed him when the nurses passed, the gentle way he was holding you was too contrast on how hard his jaw was clenched, his face almost impassive as he glared down at your scrapes and bruises as though they offended him. Your eyes widened as your injuries were exposed to his eyes that you pulled your arm away from his grasp. A silent acknowledgment passed between you, recognizing that he had allowed the release only because his grip had been secure.
“I-I have to go, Doctor Kim,” you couldn’t even meet his eyes as you bade him goodbye. His intensity, a stark departure from his usual demeanor of avoidance, left you unsettled. The memory of his comical attempt to escape you in the hospital lobby flashed in your mind, highlighting the irony of the current situation.
Literally.
He ran away from you once in the hospital lobby and there were several witnesses as the Chief ran as though there was an emergency.
You were about to enter the elevator when he spoke, his voice emotionless, his eyes bore into you with an unsettling coldness. And you could have sworn right then and there that he was an entirely different person that day.
“Who did this to you?”
The question hung in the air, laden with an ominous weight. In that moment, the stark transformation in Seokjin left you grappling with the realization that beneath the goofy and childlike facade you had come to know, there existed a man capable of chilling intensity and a protective instinct that seemed poised to unravel a hidden side of him you had never witnessed before.
You averted your eyes before letting out an awkward chuckle, hyperaware of the eyes on the two of you. “Don’t worry about them.”
It was apparent that that was not good enough explanation for him and you found yourself gulping from the force of his eyes that you were left no choice but to supplement your explanation. The words tumbled out in a hurried confession, “I was cleaning my house, lifting those boxes when I missed my step and fell down the stairs, okay?”
For a moment, Seokjin blinked, and in that subtle shift, the cold intensity dissipated, replaced by a flicker of understanding. There it was—the familiar Seokjin, the one you knew. The tension in the air lifted, and as his features softened, you couldn't help but marvel at the duality that existed within him.
He let out a soft sigh, before taking your wrist in his hand. He looked down at the bruises with heaviness and a touch of sadness in his eyes, his thumb softly running back and forth on them as though he could sooth them.
As though he could take the pain away and make it his own. And in that very moment, Seokjin knew that that was what he wanted- and that strangely, he never wanted to see you in pain. Without a word and uncaring of anyone that was looking at the two of you, he pulled you to his office.
---
“This is really unnecessary, Doc,” you winced as he gently put cream on your healing wounds, his face that of concentration as he sat in front of you.
You found yourself in an uncharted territory. You had never been this close to him knowing full well hat your attraction to him was one-sided. While it was fun for you to chase him around the hospital, you knew there could be nothing more to it. The line between lighthearted pursuit and genuine emotion was a boundary you were careful not to cross. There could be nothing more to it, you reasoned, convinced that your damaged self wasn't fit to be with someone as seemingly perfect as he was.
You knew where you stood.
“Y/N,” he spoke with a kind voice, his eyes still trained on his task. “Can I ask a favor from you?”
“Of course!”
It took a moment for him to answer, and he only did once he deemed his task complete and flawless. Gently, he reached for your sleeves, pulling them down with a delicate touch. His beautiful eyes met yours, a sincerity in his gaze that tugged at the edges of your guarded heart. “Can you please not get hurt anymore?”
The simple plea hung in the air, laced with a genuine concern that touched the depths of your soul. In that moment, the walls you had carefully constructed around your emotions quivered. His earnest request left you grappling with the realization that, perhaps, the line you had drawn between you and Seokjin wasn't as rigid as you had thought.
You wanted to cry, you thought. No one had ever cared if you got hurt. Not once. And here stood the perfect angel you perceived him to be, asking you to not be hurt anymore.
And so, for the first time, you lied to him.
You flashed him a faux smile, fronting your, nodding your head as you said, “I promise, Doctor. Wouldn’t want to disappoint the most handsome man in this hospital.”
His blush was definitely worth it, though.
---
“What are you even doing here?!” Kim Seokjin finally had it here and shouted as he heard Jungkook sighed so loudly again for the twelfth time and he could no longer focused on the research paper he was reading! He was even sure that his secretary outside could hear him behind the wall.
This was such a waste of time, he thought. Their golden maknae was wasting his time when he should have been done with this an hour ago.
“I’m just existing here, hyung. Go back to your work,” he mumbled from his position faced-down on the couch.
“You’re existing so loudly!”
Jungkook suddenly sat up, turning to face his hyung with an indignant expression, “Ah, so when you were the one pestering me in my office, it’s okay? But when it’s me, it’s not?!”
Seokjin responded with a smirk, a touch of mischief in his eyes. "Exactly!"
“How does that make sense! That is hypocritical and I’m going to sue you!”
“Dibs on Namjoon as my lawyer!”
“You can’t just call dibs!”
“I just did!”
“Well, Namjoon hyung likes me more!”
“Are you sure?! Or it’s you that like him more?!”
“You-“
Their banter was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door. Both heads turned towards the entrance, watching as the door slowly opened, revealing you. Your eyes shifted between the two handsome men, assessing the situation that seemed like a mid-battle exchange.
“Am I interrupting?”
Seokjin's demeanor shifted almost imperceptibly, a master at maintaining composure. He flashed you a reassuring smile, only to shoot Jungkook a discreet glare when your attention was diverted.
“No. Everything is good,” Seokjin affirmed, keeping his smile intact while subtly warning Jungkook with his eyes. The unspoken tension lingered in the air, leaving you to wonder if you had just stumbled into the aftermath of a friendly dispute or something more significant. “Do you need anything?”
You blinked before showing him the form you needed him to sign. He smiled as he gestured for you to come in. He was looking over the form as Jungkook observed you.
It was you, he noted. He was sure it was you that was making his hyung lose his mind little by little. His mischievous side won and he stood up, walking to you with his hand outstretched.
“Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Jeon Jungkook, his little brother,” he introduced himself. You shook his hand once, smiling at the polite and charming man.
“I’m Doctor Y/N, nice to meet you.”
And then out of nowhere, Jungkook said the most absurd lie Seokjin ever heard him say. “It’s my birthday today. Eat dinner with us?”
“Jeon Jungkook!”
---
You and Seokjin walked behind Jungkook as he skipped merrily to one of his favorite restaurants, the streetside stall that he passionately swore served the best grilled pork. The randomness of the situation left you questioning how you ended up here, but it was undeniable that saying no to Jungkook and his enchanting doe eyes was practically impossible.
“You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to,” Seokjin mentioned casually beside you. His hands were in his slacks, his eyes trained ahead. He was matching your steps, your surmised.
“Do you not want me to be here?” you asked in that small moment of courage. You looked on the other side, your heart skipping a beat from the anticipation of his answer as you watched the flow of traffic. Silence reigned for so long that you were sure he wasn’t going to answer, or if he was, you were sure that he was going to gently turn you down once again.
You were waiting for the blunt from his kind rejection, yet this time, it didn’t come. The air remained pregnant with unspoken words, and for a moment, you were suspended in the quiet tension until he said something that made you fall for him just a little bit deeper.
“I want you here.”
The shocked from his words left you reeling that you stopped walking altogether just to stare at his broad back. He hadn’t noticed yet that you stopped walking until he was few steps ahead of you. He frowned before turning back to look at you.
And that moment, a genuine smile spread across your face as you noticed telltale hint of red on his ears. The man couldn’t even meet your eyes, instead, his simple admission reduced him to blushing man that shuffled from foot to foot.
Uh oh.
You were in big trouble.
You were surely and slowly falling for Kim Seokjin. And this time, it was beyond a harmless crush.
You were, as the folks said, fucked.

