Breeze 1 | Laugh Away

Jimin x Reader

Genre: High school AU, fluff

Word count: 1, 817 words

A/N: A fic for Jimin’s birthday! This fic is inspired by YUI’s Laugh Away. I really love the song and the video, and as it has two parts, this will be a two-shot! This is written in Jimin’s POV, but the second part will be a continuation in the reader’s POV 🙂


What is spring to Jimin?

He would say that it is the invigorating smell of newly cut grass. It is the refreshing wind that blows in when he throws his windows open in the morning. It is the return of melodies sung by birds returning to their perches on the tree branches. It is Mother Nature caressing Earth with her gentle touch after the harsh, cold winter has been blown away.

“Don’t forget your lunch box, Jimin! And don’t stay out too late!”

“I won’t, Mom!” He promises, grabbing and stuffing his sustenance for the day into his school bag. Flinging it over his shoulder, it bounces against his other, heavier bag, but he does not mind as the treasured bag is well-padded. Besides, one does not give this sort of thing much thought when there is the world waiting just behind the front door of his house.

Most of all, spring to Jimin is the light pink flowers blooming along the road as he cycles to school as far as he can see. The breeze that caresses his face and blows through the strands of his hair as his feet pedals the vehicle at a leisurely pace is refreshing, and he much prefers this to the stuffy corridors and restrictive rooms of the school building.

However, it is not all that bad. Because he knows you are there. It isn’t that you are extraordinarily beautiful in your uniform of white shirt and navy skirt. Of course you are not ugly either. It’s just the way you simply glow, a smile always upon your face, energy radiating off of you. Even at a distance from the bicycle stand he can imagine the trill of your laughter coming from the school gate, the melodic sound soft yet standing out among your friends’ giggles and chatter although he is too far for the sound to grace his ears. It is your personality, your cheerfulness regardless of the weather that lightens his heart and brings a smile to his to his face.

There is nothing more that Jimin wishes for than to be in the same class with you, simply so that he can bask in your light a little longer. Not that being in the same room with you on a daily basis will change anything. Jimin is too shy to even talk to most people, much less to you, the girl he has been crushing on the moment he laid his eyes on you. He is fine with it, though. Perfectly content to just watch you from afar whenever you are in the vicinity.

School hours pass by so slowly when one is bored out of his skull. Jimin is a fast learner and a dreamer; a dangerous combination that leads him to spend most of his classroom time with his chin planted in his palm, staring out the window, tuning out his teachers’ voices like they are mosquitoes barred by a camping tent, uninterested because he already understands what they are trying to teach the students. No, the azure sky overlooking the light flushing sakura trees below is infinitely more riveting.

At least the sights are still there when afternoon comes and he is finally released from school, even if he does not see you anywhere. Swinging his leg over his bicycle, he flips his foot against the kickstand, releasing the vehicle from its lone shackle and immediately shifts his feet to pedal. The wind that hits him as he accelerates is brisk, a contrast to the leisurely descend of petals lining the roads but he relishes it, eager to reach his destination. Tires screeching over the pavement and the gorgeous spread of light pink petals greets him as he arrives at the park.

A small space out of the way for most people, in the afternoon on a workday, Jimin has found this to be a perfect time to have this place all for himself without the hustle and bustle of people wanting to enjoy the sakura trees as they do every year. Not even bothering to park his bicycle properly, he flies off of it, letting it clatter onto the ground. His hands are more careful when lifting his expensive camera out of the bag, but after he secures the strap around his neck, both the camera and school bags are thrown into the air with a carefree laughter as he rushes forward.

Carrying himself forward on the might of his legs is exceptionally rewarding after a day of being cooped up indoors. Inhaling deeply of air that he is sure only contains all the good things in this world, he raises the camera to his right eye. Setting the focus of the lens and playing with the aperture and shutter speed of the camera, he snaps photos of his surroundings. Images upon images are saved into the memory card, capturing the beauty Jimin sees through the lens; pink flowers juxtaposed against dark branches of sturdy trees planted into the grassy ground.

As he sweeps the area, indifferent to the growing weight of the device in his hands, he spots something else lying on the flat ground. Zooming in, he tries to quietly capture a photo of the figure amongst the delicate flower petals, but stops short when recognition comes with focus thanks to modern technology, allowing him to see something at the distance with such clarity. It is you. Stretched out with your eyes closed, flawlessly blending in with the soft pink, almost like snow, complimenting it so perfectly he cannot say whether it serves to amplify your beauty or the other way around. You are so still, he may be worried that you are hurt but he can see your chest rising and falling lightly with easy breaths, so he relaxes and tightens his grip on his camera.

A second of hesitation. Then his index finger presses on the button on the right hand side, and a click signifies that the breathtaking scene is forever encapsulated in digital form. Unable to contain his excitement, his head tilts down, thumbs furiously tapping until the image he has just taken appears on the small preview screen. Jimin knows no greater joy than witnessing beautiful sights, and seizing them with his trusty camera so he can immerse into them again and again. This particular one has to be one of the best he has taken, if not the best. The epitome of beauty and serenity. Unable to contain a triumphant smile, he looks up to take it in with his own eyes once more.

It is different. The tranquility that was before him just moments ago has changed. You are not there anymore. Immediately he glances around the area, trying to find you, part of him wondering if he had imagined it all. It isn’t possible though — the proof of it is in the gadget in his grasp.

“That’s a pretty cool camera!” Your chirpy voice says by way of greeting as you try to peek over his shoulder makes Jimin jump out of his skin. Fortunately the preview of the photo he has taken from you has been closed, so you can’t have seen it.

“Oh, did I surprise you? I’m sorry,” your tone is apologetic but your friendly smile remains in place.

He shakes his head frantically, desperate to ease your concern. Great, the first time you have talked to him and he is tongue-tied. Luckily for him, you are more than affable enough to make up for his shyness.

“Aren’t they pretty?” The question is asked of him as you look past him. He turns to follow your gaze, assuming that you mean the flowering trees. “Are you taking pictures of them?” At his nod of confirmation, you request, “can I see?”

A simple desire; one that Jimin would normally be more than happy to fulfil, but this time it sends him into a panic. With your irises that have somehow grown wide in persuasion, he scrambles to make a decision, to find an excuse. Ultimately he makes up his mind based on the hesitation and guilt that he felt earlier. It is not right for him to take and keep a photo of you without your permission. Perhaps this is heaven’s way to punish him for it.

“Sure, but first, I have something to confess,” he finally opens his mouth to mutter nervously. Your brows crinkle adorably in confusion at his words and he does not blame you. Despite attending the same school, the two of you are practically strangers, yet the first time you talk he already needs to come clean about something?

“I took a photo of you,” almost stumbling upon his words, he manages to tell you the truth. When you do not give a response straightaway, staring at him with blank eyes, his brains goes into overdrive. “It’s just that you look so nice, I did it without thinking! I’m sorry, I know it’s wrong to do so without permission, I’ll delete it immediately…”

His fingers fumble with the camera, but freezes when you place your hands over them, stopping him as your burst of amused laughter tickles his ears. “Wait, can I see it first?”

Suddenly unsure of his skills, he surrenders, angling the camera as you shuffle next to him to get a better look. Despite being insanely nervous about showing you the result of his work, he cannot help but focus on how close you are to him. From this distance he can see you even more clearly than ever before, every tiny detail, every little physical flaw that makes you even more perfect in his eyes. As he is taking note of your pleasant scent, you tilt your head up at him, making him jolt in surprise at being wrenched away from his intense concentration on you.

“You’re really talented, umm…”

“Jimin,” he breathes, hardly able to believe his ears. You actually complimented him on his skills — a far cry from his expectation of being scolded and reprimanded for taking your photo without permission.

“Jimin,” you repeat. His name sounds all the more pleasant rolling off of your tongue. After giving him your name in return, you ask, eyes scanning his uniform, “we go to the same school, don’t we?”

“Yeah, we’re in the same grade, but different classes,” he answers, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. Would you think it is creepy that he knows that?

The resplendent smile that illuminates your features suggests that you do not think so at all. “Okay, Jimin, you can keep this photo, but under one condition. Do you want to keep it?”

Nodding his head eagerly, he waits to hear your terms. Your lips stretch even further into a grin. Is his infatuation with you so obvious that you have noticed?

“You have to send this photo to me. I want to keep it too!”


Race Against Time: Chapter 5

Jungkook feat. Reader and the rest of BTS

Genre: Angst, Thriller, Darkfic

Warning: This fic is about murder cases, and may include some graphic imagery. Please read with caution.

Word Count: 3,893 words

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5


The ringtone of your phone, soft as is, is jarring on Jungkook’s ears the morning after consecutive late nights. It’s extremely frustrating, but the cool time between their serial killer’s attacks is the only window of opportunity that they have to analyse the cases. Not that it’s doing them much good.

The motive of the murders are still unknown. None of the victims have anything in common other than the fact that they were girls from the same university who decided to spend one night outside. The buddy system is clearly not a deterrent for their killer, as each time he strikes, a pair of poor girls are abducted only to be killed, one after another. His first victim of every pair didn’t stand a chance, losing their lives immediately only to become a tool at his disposal; a map for Jungkook and his team to use in maddening, fruitless attempts to find the other girl.

Yet the first girls are not as pitiful as their partners. The former at least died swift deaths, while the torture their friends had to go through was prolonged and excruciating. Jungkook can’t help thinking that it is his fault that they all died. That his incompetency is the reason that more has to be sacrificed for a mysterious purpose, and the previous girls’ deaths are in vain because he hasn’t managed to get even one step closer to the murderer. While the first girls were impeccably clean save for the numerous amounts of clues left behind for Jungkook, the second girls were found in the most horrible states; dirty, worn, sometimes mutilated, with nothing useful to find off of them beyond their IDs. It is sad – and frankly, sickening – to think about, but their bodies have been damaged, destroyed by the elements, and as far as the autopsies can tell, provide nothing to point to the person that led them to their demise other than having the same Taser marks that clues Jungkook in on the method used to subdue them.

No, if there is anything to be found, Jungkook is certain that it lies with the cleaned, untainted bodies of the girls who were killed first. Their earrings, all different and still unknown if the victims had owned the jewelry or if they came from the killer. There is no doubt that they were clothed by him – the chances of two girls wearing the exact same white shirt and shorts are very small, and they’re now talking about four girls. Four girls. Four cases. Eight victims in all. Jungkook has sighed as he looks over the photos and clues over and over again, only coming to a dead end every time.

Sleep deprived and grumpy, Jungkook groans and lifts his pillow to flip his head underneath it, trying to ignore the jostling of the mattress as you move sluggishly to reach towards the bedside table to grab your phone. Every night he comes home late he finds you still awake, greeting him with a smile. You insist that you’re only staying up because you have a lot of work to do, but he knows you by now. He wishes that you won’t worry about him so much, but that is as impossible as it is for him to stop mulling over his cases until he gets to the bottom of them. From beneath his eyelids, he can tell that the sun hasn’t quite risen, yet it’s already warm, a warning of the scorching day this is about to be.


“Mm-hmm. Wait, calm down.” Despite craving for a little more sleep, Jungkook can’t help half-heartedly listening to your conversation, even if he can only hear your side of it.

“What?!” The loss of grogginess in your voice is accompanied by an increase in volume, making him jump and sit up, knocking his pillow onto the floor. He looks at you with curiosity and finds that your eyes are already on him, wide and panicked under furrowed brows.

“I’ll tell him to go over right away.”

As soon as you hang up the phone, he pounces on you. “What was that about?”

“It’s Jimin,” you say, already coaxing him to get off the bed and get ready. “He found someone dead in his parents’ backyard.”


Jungkook is relieved to see that the neighbourhood is sparse of people when he and his team arrives. Since the first case, this string of murders has received a lot of attention, which mostly impedes their progress and puts that much more pressure on them to solve the cases. However, he knows that this lull in the surroundings won’t last very long. Already some neighbours are gathering around Jimin’s childhood home, no doubt roused by the chaos happening at the back of the house. If this is the work of their killer, the clues need to be collected and analysed immediately, not simply because a bigger crowd will only cause a distraction, but most importantly because it means that there is a girl who will die unless they can get to her first.

Being torn between hope and dread is an awful feeling. If he strikes again, perhaps Jungkook can get one step closer to end this, but the cost of a life is just too high a price. However, it’s not like they have a choice, as Jungkook looks down on the dry earth of the backyard already roped off by one of the officers, there is no doubt that this dead girl is the ninth victim of this cruel murderer.

All the tell-tale signs are there; the miraculously clean body despite being laid upon the ground, the same loose white shirt and blue shorts and bare feet. As Namjoon and Jin, who arrived moments after Jungkook did, crouch down with gloved hands to examine the body better, Jungkook’s eyes are drawn to the earrings that are attached to her earlobes. He has seen those bright blue glass globes before. Heart thudding loudly, he takes several steps away, waving off Namjoon’s call for him to dig in his pocket for his phone. Trying to calm the unease growing inside him, he dials your number and taps his foot on the ground as he impatiently waits for you to pick up.

“Hello, Jungkook? Aren’t you supposed to be at a crime scene?” Your surprised voice greets him without preamble.

“Yeah, I’m here right now, but I had to call you,” he says mysteriously, holding back on his words simply because he doesn’t know how to say it.

“Is there something wrong?” The concern that immediately colours your voice is unmistakable to his ears. He desperately wants to reassure you but how can he, when he’s full of worries and doubts himself?

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.” His relief when you picked up the phone is fast dissipating. “Maybe it’s better if you stay at home today.”

You hum an assent without asking him of his motives. “Ga-In and I are planning to discuss some of our research work today. I suppose I can ask her to come over instead of meeting at the university.”

Your easy agreement with his wish makes Jungkook feel a little better. There is never any doubt in you that he is always looking out for you, and will always clue you in when it’s the appropriate time to do so. “Just make sure that you don’t let anyone you don’t know in. One more thing.”


“Do you still have those earrings you got when we went to Venice?”

A momentary silence ensues on your end of the phone as you put two and two together. “They were still there the last time I checked,” you answer carefully. “I’ll look again and let you know, okay?”

Jungkook nods before remembering that you can’t see him. “That would be great, thanks.”

Before he can hang up, you continue, “I don’t know if this is of any help, but if you remember correctly they’re not that expensive.”

“They’re not that common here, either.”

“You’re right,” you agree with a small sigh. “I’ll call you back after I check. Good luck babe.”

By the time Jungkook returns to the heart of the crime scene, Hoseok and Yoongi has already arrived and everyone is waiting for him to inspect the body as well as the clues before everything is bagged and tagged. In the deceased girl’s hair is a white flower, about five centimetres wide, with five round petals above five spikier-looking white petals underneath. Another locket is strung around her neck, holding coarse brown powder that looks suspiciously like dirt.

“We think he stuck something inside her mouth again,” Namjoon informs Jungkook before he can ask about the final clue. He nods, a signal for Jin to open her mouth, which the zoologist does with a small shudder. As they have suspected, Jin carefully fishes the discovery inside another bag and narrows his eyes at the specimen.

“Is that another larva?” Jungkook asks, memories brought back to the horrible chase near the river that ended in futility.

At Jin’s nod, Yoongi groans as he sets up his field testing kit. “Don’t tell me we’re going to have to search in the damn rivers again.”

Yoongi’s complaint is met with a rueful smile from Jin. “No, no, these don’t live in the water. They –”

“Mind if I run this sample right now?” Satisfied that they won’t have to look in an impossible location again, Yoongi addresses his question to Jungkook, shaking the locket. “I’m sure you know that we don’t have all day.”

Ignoring Jin’s puff of his cheeks at being cut off by Yoongi, Jungkook nods his approval before turning back to the others. Hoseok is already bursting with the information that he has to share, so Jungkook motions for him to start. “This is aquilegia pubescens, or more commonly known as alpine columbine. There’s no mistaking it. However…”

“What is it?” Jungkook prompts, knowing that it can’t be anything good.

“They’re usually found on open, rocky slopes, really high up.”

The news of a possible trek in rocky terrains immediately makes the whole team dispirited, until Jin interjects. “I don’t think we’ll have to do that. These larvae is from a hawk moth,” he points to the brown insect dotted with white spots along the length of its body, “it burrows into the soil to pupate, and there can’t be a lot of that on a high rocky mountain, can it?”

“I agree with Jin,” Yoongi adds as he concludes his test. “This is soil from a forest. It’s quite acidic and very organic, probably due to leaching of calcium carbonate and clay.”

“So she’s probably somewhere in the forest,” Namjoon suggests.

“She might be near the base of a rocky slope,” Jungkook concludes.

“I’ve been studying the flora of the county since I’ve been invited to work with you, and there’s only one place that can house these flowers anywhere near the ground,” Hoseok announces proudly. “It has to be Holling Forest. It’s about a half hour’s drive from here.”

“Let’s move out then,” Jungkook commands, then remembers something important. “Have you seen Jimin, the man who made the report?” He asks one of the officers.

The younger man shakes his head, looking very concerned himself. “By the time the first officers arrived, he’d already left. But his parents are inside the house.”

After thanking him, Jungkook rushes into Jimin’s childhood home. It’s a place Jungkook had been to many times before as a youth, and the familiar scenery gives him a pang of regret at not visiting for so long.

“Mr and Mrs Park, I’m sorry to see you again under these circumstances.” Those are the only words of greeting he can offer the two people he is so fond of after such a long absence. Fortunately they are understanding and mostly too shaken to give him any sort of reprimand, but the only information they can offer of Jimin’s whereabouts is that he left looking distraught after finding the body and making the report.

Deciding that time is of the essence, Jungkook can’t waste it on finding Jimin and ultimately joins the others to head to the forest after ordering the officer he spoke to before to find Jimin. The speed with which they deciphered the hints left behind for them gives Jungkook a little hope, but he should have known that things will not continue so smoothly. A mere five minutes has passed when they get stuck in a traffic jam, sandwiched between other cars that leaves them no choice but to wait until the accident ahead is sorted and cleared up.

It is already about two hours since they found the body when they finally reach the edge of the forest. Scores of tall trees loom before them, as if daring them to enter and explore the depths before the limited time granted to them runs out. Jungkook is more than aware that the window given to them to find the next victim grows narrower with every case, and it’s with that reminder in mind that he pushes forward, leading the search and rescue teams north.

“Why are we heading this way?” Jin asks, puffing behind Namjoon, whose long legs allow him to keep up with Jungkook’s determined pace.

“Chances are she’s near a rocky slope, right? That’s this way,” Jungkook points to the direction they’re heading towards. “We will walk there and spread along the base of the mountain to search for her.”

Most of the hike is silent, everyone conserving their energy and channeling it into their steps, growing closer and closer to the base where they split into two groups and walk in opposite directions. Even Hoseok and Jin, the talkative two are quiet so that the only sounds that greet Jungkook’s ears are the twigs breaking under their feet and soft noises made by the inhabitants of the forest that cannot be seen. He wonders how Yoongi and Namjoon are faring in the other team.

It was thankfully only a short while later that they see the answer to their prayers – a small wooden cabin, a scant few meters away from the slope. The area seems deserted, but there is no telling if there is anything – or more importantly, anyone – inside the cabin.

“Should we call out to see if anyone is inside?” Hoseok suggests, sounding a little timid and unsure of himself.

Jungkook tries to weigh his options as he circles the perimeter of the structure. It only has one door and two windows, both boarded up, effectively preventing them from assessing the interior. So far the killer has left the girls for dead, not bothering to remain to observe their demise. If the second girl really is inside, she is most probably by herself, although he has no idea if she is gagged to prevent her from making any noise.

“Is anyone in there?” Jungkook finally decides to throw caution into the wind by calling out. They have no time to lose. If the second victim to the kidnapping this time around is in the cabin, they need to rescue her before whatever time-based contraption that the murderer has set up gets in motion.

Jungkook’s shout is met by a momentary silence. Then –

“Oh my God, is someone there? Please help me, I’m trapped inside!” A frantic female voice answers. The members of Jungkook’s search team look at each other with shock and jubilation. This is the first time they have managed to discover the victim still alive.

“Is there anyone with you?” Anxiousness is imploring Jungkook to make a move, but he knows that he needs to be cautious.

“No, but I’m tied to a chair so I can’t move. Please, please save me!” With that, she bursts into terrified sobs. He can feel the eyes surrounding him zero in on him, waiting for him to dole out his orders.

“The only entrance is the door, Agent,” one of the men confirms Jungkook’s findings.

“We’re running out of time, aren’t we? We should go in and save her. I don’t see any point in waiting,” Jin pushes.

Neither does Jungkook, but something feels off.

“Something smells weird,” Hoseok points out.

“It’s kerosene,” Jungkook surmises. The odour is certainly out of place in the forest.

“Maybe the owner of this place uses it to light fires,” another of the men hypotheses.

Tilting his head up, Jungkook is inclined to disagree with the idea as he cannot locate any chimney, but everyone agrees that the only step they can take to rescue the girl in time is through the door. Still ill at ease, he holds his gun at the ready and twists the doorknob. It is surprisingly unlocked, so he pushes it hard, opening it wide with a loud slam.

A sharp click followed by a small bright light greets their eyes mere seconds before their senses are suddenly assaulted by scorching heat, vivid colours and blinding smoke. Somehow a fire has started the moment Jungkook opened the door, covering every inch of the room and going beyond it to the other one. Even as he coughs from the acrid smoke and his eyes water and narrow, the pained, shrill screams coming from the room opposite the one Jungkook is facing pushes him to move forward. However, he doesn’t make it two steps before strong hands grab his shoulders to pull him back out of the cabin.

“Let me go! Can’t you see that she’s burning to death inside?!” Jungkook channels his anger, frustration and guilt towards Jin, who looks just as surprised and overwhelmed as he is, but with enough sense to stop him from barelling into the roaring flames.

“Are you crazy? The whole place is already on fire! There’s no way you can reach her!” Jin counters.

He is right. With Jin’s strong arms joined by Hoseok’s, Jungkook can do nothing but watch as the two men pull him away from the blaze that is already growing out of control. His eyes take in the floor of the cabin which is curiously lined with a carpet that is of an indistinguishable colour. Of course. The kerosene that Hoseok noticed has probably been left to slowly soak into the carpet from a container inside, and Jungkook would bet anything that the material extends into the other room. If they had arrived sooner, perhaps not as much fluid would have spilled, the fire wouldn’t have raged so much so quickly and he could have rushed in to save the victim. But they are, once again, too late.

The other team arrives not long after, but without the proper gear necessary they are helpless against the building inferno. None of them expected to encounter such a situation; anticipating to find a thirsty, lost girl wandering around the forest at best and a dead body at worst, most of them are only equipped with water and first aid kits. As they wait for the firefighters to arrive, they can only discuss the latest development in hushed voices while watching Jungkook fume with anger.

That bastard knew that this would happen. The killer set Jungkook up for this. Knowing that he will lead the search and rescue team, as the lead investigator, he has to be the one to open the door. To set off the trigger for the flare that started the fire. To cast the weight of her death upon his shoulders. This is personal. Jungkook has suspected so for a while, but now he is certain.

The realisation causes him to jump with the reminder that he is concerned about you as well, and he desperately takes his pocket for his phone. As expected, the great outdoors doesn’t provide a cell signal, but at some point you’ve left him several missed calls and one message, which he taps open at once.

“Both my blue Murano glass earrings and the diamond earrings you bought me are gone. Ga-In is here and Jimin also stopped by so I should be fine, but please call me back and tell me what the hell is going on.”

Like a light switch finally being flicked on in a pitch black room, everything starts to make sense. The studs similar to the ones you used to wear in school. The elegant silver ones that adorned your ears the night he danced with you at prom. The gold earrings he thought were unusual, a gift from your parents when you were accepted into a prestigious university overseas that delighted you. You had worn earrings either close or identical to the ones found on the first girls found in each case, all of whom were dressed in a similar fashion to yours, especially at home; light-coloured oversized shirts paired with comfortable shorts. A mockery towards Jungkook, a way to tell him that her attire in their private home is no secret to the killer from the start.

Only one person, other than Jungkook, has the ability to know such details about you, dating back to your school years. With that, the locations start to make sense. All the information I need do lie with the first victims, Jungkook realises.

“Is something wrong?” Namjoon voices his concern, mistaking thr look of intense concentration on Jungkook’s face as frustration and anger towards himself. The assessment isn’t very far off, but Namjoon probably can’t even begin to guess the full reasoning behind Jungkook’s shaking body as he pieces the puzzle together before jumping onto his feet.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

Jungkook ignores the confused shouts and calls, quickly growing fainter as they are slow to move after being shocked by his sudden departure from the scene. His steps are even wider and faster than before although he is fatigued by the exhausting and maddening day, and when he meets the firefighters as he finally approaches his car, he doesn’t waste much time talking to them, only giving them the necessary details to get to the fire before throwing himself inside the vehicle.

Only thoughts of you fill his mind as he races home. It takes Namjoon several tries before his call is answered by Jungkook. The small team that Jungkook has assembled has scrambled to follow him back into the city, but lost him on the way. Trying to keep the panic out of his voice the best that he can, he informs Namjoon that you may be in danger, and that he is heading home right at that moment.

Namjoon promises that they will get there as soon as possible with directions from Yoongi, but when Jungkook arrives, he doesn’t wait for them before entering. The deceptive impression of safety that the front door offers is short lived when he finds that it is unlocked. A horrible sight meets him in the living room where he has spent many hours conversing with you over the hot beverages you made him; the body of a pretty girl with short black hair and slashed throat laying on the floor. If Ga-In is dead, that means you…

Even if he knows it’s useless, Jungkook frantically searches his own home, yelling your name over and over again, heart thundering in his ears. As he has expected but unable to accept, you are nowhere to be found.

House of Cards: Chapter 5 (M)

Taehyung, Reader, Jungkook

Genre: Smut, angst and a little fluff

Warning: Infidelity. Please avoid if this is not for you.

Word count: 3,625 words

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5


“I just saw Taehyung – with another woman!”

You froze. Somehow along the denials and lies that you’d repeated internally, you’d convinced yourself that nothing like this would ever happen. It was stupid of you, and you’d be the first one to admit that. You knew you were an idiot for thinking that no one would ever find out. It was a miracle that you and Taehyung managed to keep it quiet for this long in the first place. Now that someone had finally confronted you, you didn’t know how to react. You had foolishly never thought about what to do when this inevitably happened.

“What?” You pretended not to understand as your mind frantically searched for something to say.

“Taehyung – your boyfriend – is on a freaking date with another woman!” Jungkook sounded almost as panicked as you felt. “You need to come here right now!”

“I – I’m – I can’t, Jungkook, I’m at work,” you stuttered the easiest reasoning that came to mind.

“But –”

You cut him off before he could belt out his arguments. “Let’s talk about this later, okay? Bye.”

With a press of the pad of your thumb on the red circle on the screen of your phone with more force than necessary, you ended the call. Another one came almost immediately. On the screen flashed the name that you were expecting and sent chills down your spine: Jungkook. You rejected the call, put your phone on silent and tossed it into your handbag like it was an instrument that could cause you bodily harm. Softly panting even though you hadn’t exerted yourself physically, you stared at the bag, half expecting the phone to jump out and attack you, but of course no such thing happened.

“Y/n, are you okay? Y/n?”

Jimin’s gentle voice calling your name was finally enough to make you tear your eyes away from the bag and spin your chair around to look at him. Your colleague was leaning forward in his own chair, palms on his knees, worry etched on his face as he repeated the question.

“Ah, yes, I’m fine,” you tried to reassure him with a forced grin. The beating of your heart was still loud in your ears in the few seconds it took for Jimin to curve his lips into a small smile in return. It was obvious that he wasn’t convinced but you were thankful that he decided not to pry, turning back to his own work instead to leave you to your anxious thoughts.

Even though you couldn’t get another ounce of work done for the rest of the day, when people around you started leaving for the day you still had no idea what to do. So you stayed. A pointless endeavour, as you were neither productive nor did you figure out a solution, but remain you did until it was late enough you could hope that Jungkook had chosen that night to spend outside, either for a party or for a study group, you didn’t care. Still, as you drove home, you started thinking up excuses and reasonings to serve to him, each one sounding more ridiculous than the last.

Just as you feared, the instant you unlocked the front door and pushed it open, loud footsteps echoed from inside, quickly followed by Jungkook’s appearance around the corner. You should have known that he’d be too worried about the predicament he thought you were in to let you spend the night alone.

“Where have you been?” Was his first question. Still an easy one; you knew how to answer this query.

“I was stuck at work.” A white lie, you supposed. This was the first time that you’d stayed in the office this late, but fortunately Jungkook was too preoccupied to ask what project that kept you for so long – because there was no such project.

“Did you talk to Taehyung?”

Taking your time to take off your shoes and put them on the shoe rack offered you the respite from looking at Jungkook’s concerned face. You shook your head no, still looking away from him. Hoping against hope that he would drop the subject, but of course he didn’t.

“I really saw him with another woman!”

“Maybe it’s just a friend,” your counter was calm in contrast to the thundering in your chest as you finally straightened your back and took several steps further inside, closer to him.

He shook his head resolutely, digging his phone out of the pocket of his shorts. The speed at which he got the screen to display what he wanted told you that he’d been keeping the photo gallery open all this while, just waiting for the moment to show you. But you didn’t want to see. You didn’t want to see Taehyung’s arm wrapped around her shoulder. You didn’t want to see her leaning up to kiss him. You didn’t want to see him returning her smile, reluctant as you made it seem in your head. However, you were forced to watch as Jungkook swiped his thumb across the screen, showing you the photos he had taken of them from afar so you couldn’t pretend ignorance and give excuses.

After scrolling to the final picture with excruciating slowness, making sure you saw every photo clearly, he stared at you, waiting for a response. You could see his worried gaze in the corner of your eye even as you looked down at the phone, your eyes unseeing, simply open and blank, just like your mind was. His hand on your shoulder was warm, filled with kindness that you knew was misplaced. If he knew the truth, he would hate you. Throat completely dry and constricted but you managed to croak out, “I’ll talk to him.” With that, you backed away from Jungkook, intending to make a hasty retreat to the sanctuary of your room but before you could make your escape he stopped you in your tracks by catching your wrist.

“Have you had dinner? It’s pretty late, but we could go find something if you haven’t,” he offered.

“Yeah,” your reply was short as you pulled your hand out of his grasp, barely managing to stop yourself from running into your room. Another lie. You hadn’t had dinner, nor did you want any, as you had lost all appetite. What is one fib, really, compared to all you were saying and doing to mislead and avoid Jungkook? More guilt was piling on inside. You were being horrible to Jungkook. You were being horrible to Taehyung’s wife. You knew you were a horrible person all around.

The drops of water hitting your body from the shower head later was tempting you to shed the tears that were being held back just underneath your closed eyelids, but still you stopped yourself. Someone like you didn’t deserve to cry. You were selfish. A liar. A home wrecker. Someone who didn’t deserve any sympathy from someone as nice as Jungkook, who didn’t deserve such a perfect guy as Taehyung while his wife was being kept in the dark about your affair. So you kept telling yourself that over and over as you pushed the need to cry back down, along with the guilt that you were too greedy to acknowledge, even as your conscience dragged it closer and closer to the surface and increasing effort was needed to keep it down.

Your cheeks were still dry as you laid on your bed afterwards, trying and failing to fall into the sweet arms of slumber. When you staggered out of your bedroom the next morning, it was on 2, 3 hours of sleep at best, thanking the heavens that Jungkook had a late class and would still be sleeping, so you didn’t have to face him.


The unexpected greeting almost made you jump out of your skin. Contrary to your expectation – and frankly, hopes – there he was, sitting at the dining table, the right side of his cheek bulging with whatever it was he was having for breakfast – was that an omelette?

“Sit down, I’ll make you another one,” he offered, the legs of the chair squeaking against the floor as he pushed it back but you were quick to decline.

“That’s fine, Jungkook, I’m in a rush,” you said, hurrying to grab a pair of shoes so you could escape his company and the prospect of being asked about Taehyung.

“But –” You could hear him beginning a protest, so you stopped him before he could finish. “I’ll get something on the way to work. See you later!”

You were a coward. Even though Jungkook was worried about you, thinking that you were upset because your ‘boyfriend’ cheated on you, getting up early to make you breakfast and keep you company, you pushed his efforts away. Simply because you were too afraid to tell him the truth. That Taehyung wasn’t cheating on you. That you were the reason he was cheating on his wife. Your selfishness made you want to remain in denial as long as you could, safe in a bubble where you could avoid thinking about your sordid situation, and the person it had changed you into. It was wrong and foolish, but you wanted to pretend that you and Taehyung were still together, only with each other. Like it used to be. Like it was supposed to be.

Perhaps Jungkook sensed your reluctance to discuss the matter, because it took him three days to ask if you’d talked to Taehyung.

“I haven’t had the chance. He’s too busy at the moment.”

Yet another twist of the truth. Each one slowly piling up on your conscience, rapidly increasing the hatred you had towards yourself. However it kept Jungkook’s questions at bay. Although you reassured him that you were fine, you noticed that he stayed home a lot more now. When you tried to persuade him to go out with his friends, he told you that he needed to focus on his studies and assignments. There wasn’t much you could say to argue, not when he spent most of the time when you were at home in the living room, poring over his books, insisting that the noise from the shows you were watching actually helped him focus instead of going into his room. It didn’t take long for you to feel comfortable around him again. Not only that, you were now so used to his presence that your home without him felt like a totally different place.

However, this situation posed a problem; the next time Taehyung called to meet, you couldn’t let him come over your house like he normally did. He was surprised when you asked him to see you at one of the hotels you used to go to during the period after he got married and you hadn’t had a place of your own yet, but luckily for you he agreed without making a fuss.

“So why are we back here?” He asked, loosening his necktie as you took your watch and earrings off, setting them on the bedside table.

“Jungkook is studying, so I feel bad about making too much noise.” It wasn’t the real reason why you asked Taehyung to meet you here, but at least it was the truth. You knew for a fact that he had a test coming later that week. Part of you were afraid that Taehyung would protest about you having a roommate again, but it was the only excuse you could think of.

Fortunately he was understanding, clearly remembering his days as a student. His evident desire for you might have played a hand in this. In no time he had you pinned between his hard body and the soft bed, his lips moving against yours as he unbuttoned your shirt and pulled it out of your skirt. Your bra was expertly unhooked and skirt unzipped just as quickly, but before he could tug it down, your phone chimed. At first you ignored it, allowing him to pull the clothes off of you, but the second chime made you pause. Taehyung continued as if he hadn’t heard anything, making you mewl when he purposefully brushed against your core before taking your panties off as well. However, when your phone started to ring, you sat up, gently pushing him out of the way.

His loud huff coming from behind you as you approached the table to pick up your phone told you that he didn’t appreciate the interruption. You felt a little amusement, until you saw that the name flashing on the screen was the last one you wanted to see; it was Jungkook. Before you could decide whether you should answer it or not, the call ended. Unlocking your phone, you discovered that the last two messages was also sent by him.

Jungkook [9.13 pm]: Are you staying out late today?

Jungkook [9.16 pm]: If you don’t let me know soon you won’t get a vote in the pizza toppings!

The second message would have made you laugh if he hadn’t found out about Taehyung’s other relationship. You typed a reply to tell him that you wouldn’t be back for dinner that night so he would stop calling you. Just as you locked your phone, Taehyung wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Who was that?”

“I forgot to tell Jungkook that I’m not coming back for dinner tonight.”

“Mmm,” Taehyung hummed into the crook of your neck, apparently distracted by the perfume that you were wearing, blended with your natural scent after a long day at work. His large palms were warm against your cool skin, trailing a path from your waist to cup the underside of your breasts. Shaking hands almost dropped the phone, but you managed to set it down from a lower height. The device clattered on the wooden surface as you leaned back into him. His calloused hands, uncommon for someone from such a privileged family as his, were harsh against the soft flesh of your breasts that he massaged. Every time he circled the heavy globes he brushed against your nipples, every time he passed too quickly for your liking, but they hardened almost immediately regardless. Your contented hum changed into mewls when he finally pinched the stiff peaks between his thumbs and forefingers.

Leaning forward to press your palms onto the table, you moved your hips up and down to rub your ass against his erection. A grunt from Taehyung followed as he enjoyed the sensation of his cock stroking against your plump ass cheeks. Your chest was abandoned so he could grip your waist, holding you steady as he moved between your derrière. Just before he reached his limit, however, he backed off.

Without warning, two fingers slammed into your wet pussy. You cried out with surprise and pleasure, breasts moving in time with his rapid strokes. Each thrust was a generous splash of oil spilled onto the roaring fire building between your legs, but somehow you couldn’t get to the top. The phone on the table was silent, unlit, yet it was as if it was staring at you, judging you. This was wrong. You’d known this since it started a long time ago, but you’d pushed it aside each time it nagged at you, telling yourself that you’d been with Taehyung first, and that he loved you, that you were meant to be together. But what about Jungkook? He cared about you, treated you better than anyone had for a while now, he had been there for you whenever you had a hard time, went out of his way to spend time with you and cheer you up whenever he thought Taehyung wasn’t treating you right. Jungkook didn’t deserve to be deceived, to be kept in the dark. Again, guilt slowly built inside your mind, suppressing the orgasm in your loins.

Sensing that you were having trouble reaching your peak, Taehyung brought his other hand around your hip. Nifty fingers unearthed your clit and rubbed circles around it, kicking any and all coherent thoughts from your mind. Your knees buckled when the burst of pleasure finally hit but before you could drop to the floor, he turned you around and picked you up so he could lay you on the table. The loss of stimulation that his fingers provided while you were in the middle of your orgasm made you cry out in frustration, but he planned to soon more than make up for it.

Placing the head of his engorged cock on the lips of your pussy automatically made your walls clench even harder, already craving for him. Your need was quickly sated when he pushed himself into while you were still coming down from your high, allowing you no cool down time before he worked you up again. His hands bruised the back of your thighs, holding them open as he rammed into you and you gripped the edge of the table to keep yourself in place – a no mean feat with the force Taehyung was slamming into your depths with. The dull thudding of the table against the wall with each plunge was laced with your moans and his grunts. His strength and stamina seemed boundless, and at the back of your mind you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been staying away from sleeping with his wife again. It was the last thing you wanted to think about at the moment, so you steered yourself in a different direction, focusing on his plump bottom lip crushed by his teeth, brows furrowed in concentration, muscles flexing as he pounded into you. This time fortunately you were easily succumbing to the inexplicable pleasure that only he had made you feel. “Tae,” you pleaded with him, your request clear from the way your inner muscles were gradually closing in on him.

“I’m close, too,” he panted, beads of sweat glistening on his naked body from the exertion. “Cum for me, y/n.”

That was all you needed to let go again. Another blazing fire that burnt out of proportion, consuming you and torching Taehyung with you. His name was the only word that you could think of, and you called for him again and again as your legs shook and your entire body trembled from the quake. And he answered you every time with groans of your own name mingled with sharp grunts as he pounded out the remnants of his energy inside you with his cum.

You had no idea how long the two of you remained unmoving, too busy catching your breaths as you made your way down. Eventually Taehyung slipped his arms underneath your back to help you up and move you towards the bathroom to clean up.

When you were clean and safely ensconced in his embrace, you started getting drowsy. Before you could drift off, he remarked, “You seem stressed out.”

How did he notice? Your eyes flew open, sleepy mind struggling to find an plausible reason. “I guess work has been stressing me out more than I thought.”

“Oh?” Against your expectations, you seemed to have piqued his interest, if the way he propped himself up on his elbow was any indication. So you proceeded to tell him about the project you were working on. There was a lot to be done but it wasn’t anything particularly difficult, so you exaggerated the whole process to make it sound more intimidating than it really was. While he was giving you his full attention, your insides shriveled even more with every word you uttered. Were you now being dishonest with Taehyung too? Someone who had your absolute trust in return for his, someone in the same boat as you were, someone who would never condemn you. The pit of self-hatred was growing deeper and deeper, so you turned the tables around to ask him about his work.

It had been a long time since you had a chat like this with Taehyung. Hours passed as each of you shared the details of your current everyday life, whilst avoiding the people you’d rather not mention for the night; Taehyung’s wife and Jungkook. Even though you cherished the rare opportunity, you wished it wasn’t tainted with the very fabrications and denials that you composed with your own lips.

Late night slipped into the wee hours of the morning, calling Taehyung to sleep but it wasn’t as kind to you. Even when you tried to force yourself to fall into slumber you couldn’t get your brain to rest. So you finally gave into the thoughts that had been gnawing their way into your soul since the first time Taehyung called you as a married man. The same thoughts, made heavier by new sins you’d committed against Jungkook, who had been nothing but kind and supportive. If you kept up your selfishness you knew that one day your conscience would eat you up alive.

When light came and you said goodbye to Taehyung, your mind was made up. You were still greedy and in the wrong, but you’d attempt to do the right thing by one person at least. As you made your way home, all you could think of was how you should proceed, what words you should use, how he would react. Your entry into your house was met by a shuffling Jungkook on the couch, roused by the sound of the front door closing behind you. Did he fall asleep waiting for me to come back?

“You’re back! I’m glad you’re okay,” his enthusiastic greeting would change once you said what you intended to say, you knew that, but you’d made up your mind.

“Jungkook, there’s something I need to tell you about me and Taehyung.”

Temptation: Chapter 3 (M)

Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Werewolf! Jungkook, smut and fluff

Warnings: Dom! Jungkook, public foreplay

Word count: 3,626 words


“Come on, everyone is going to leave without us.”

Jumping in your seat, you looked up to see Jin leaning against your desk right next to you. You blinked a few times, glancing at the screen of the computer facing you then back to Jin’s smiling face and you realised that you must have been so absorbed in the document you were working on to realise his appearance. Looking at the time at the bottom left corner of the computer, you also saw that it was already time for lunch.

However, you hadn’t even made it halfway through the workload you intended to finish by the end of the day, so you turned to Jin to decline his invitation. “Sorry, Jin, I need to finish this by today so I’ll probably eat later.”

“So this is the project that you and Jungkook were working on a few weeks ago, huh?” Jin pushed himself off the table to get a better look at what you were working on.

“Mm-hmm.” You nodded while trying not to let your giddiness show. Against all odds, the proposal that you presented when Jungkook was on leave was approved. When discussions to start the project began, Jungkook had magnanimously suggested that you head the project, and before you knew it, you were leading for the first time in your life.

While you were extremely grateful for the opportunity, part of you wondered if it had been undeserved. As usual, when in doubt you consulted Jungkook for his opinion. He had sternly reminded you that most of the ideas for the project were yours and that you deserved it more than he did. Between Jungkook and encouragement from your colleagues, you became psyched for the project, and determined to show what you were capable of.

Therefore, it was with a smile that you reminded Jin, “I’m staying, but you’re going to be left behind, you know.”

At your warning, he turned towards the lift with a start. The others had already filed into the metal box and the door was about to close. “Wait!” He ran towards them, waving his arm frantically to ask one of them to press the ‘open doors’ button. When the doors slid open fully, he twisted his upper body to yell at you, “I’ll get something for you to eat, okay y/n?”

You just nodded and waved him off gratefully, watching him enter the lift and apologise to the occupants as the doors glided towards each other and they disappeared from your sight. With a small sigh you swivelled in your chair to face the computer again. The office was silent save for the tapping on your keyboard, with everyone gone out for lunch except you and… your eyes travelled up to look at the office in front of you.

Jungkook had been busier than you were these past two weeks. You wondered how he coped with the amount of work, but he rarely seemed very tired or stressed, always remaining cheerful with a constant smile gracing his handsome face, which became warmer when it was directed towards you. Although it had been a while since you got to talk to him about matters unrelated to work since that tryst in the handicapped bathroom, actually he had made sure to remind you of his affections whenever he could; a squeeze of your hand when he sat next to you in meetings, a cup of long black on your desk when he knew you had a long day ahead, countless small gestures to remind you that you were special to him.

A part of you worried that he wasn’t taking care of himself, but then you told yourself, Who am I to talk? I’m skipping lunch right now. As if reiterating that thought, your stomach rumbled embarrassingly. Luckily the only one around was Jungkook, and he couldn’t have heard the sound. Deciding that you needed something to fortify yourself before Jin came back with your meal, you propelled yourself up and marched towards the pantry.

Two pieces of biscuit paired with a cup of hot chocolate later, you decided that you had enough to keep you going for the time being. However, as you were rinsing your cup, any thoughts of work disappeared when a pair of arms snaked around your waist and your nostrils were filled with a familiar scent that accompanied the nose that sniffed at your neck.

“There you are,” Jungkook’s soft voice rang in your ears like a sweet melody as he pulled you back to press against him. “I want to ask you something.” He paused, a little distracted by the way you tilted your head to the side, baring your neck to him. “How come you’re not out for lunch with the others?”

You doubted that this was the question that he wanted to ask, but you found it difficult to concentrate. Your breath hitched in your throat as he started kissing the side of your face, concentrating on the spot just underneath your ear, and your legs felt weak when he ran his large hands from your hips down your thighs. What is it about this guy that makes me melt so easily? You thought to yourself, but out loud, you only let yourself say, “I have a a lot of work to do. Jin will bring back something for me. What about you, why are you skipping lunch?”

The pressure behind his palms snaking underneath the hem of your skirt increased at the mention of Jin’s name, but he kept his voice light as he said, “I have a meeting to go to soon. I’ll probably eat something there. Is Jin bothering you?”

“No, he’s just being really nice.” Your words made Jungkook ease up on the force on your inner thighs, but they continued their journey towards your core, lifting your skirt up in the process.

“That’s good then,” he smiled against your temple and didn’t pursue the subject. Before you could ask him what he really wanted to ask you though, he grabbed your by the waist to turn you around to face him. Nothing was said between you, only his stare, penetrating, predatory and hungry meeting yours; wide eyed, open mouthed and almost bursting under his dark gaze.

No words were needed. Not when Jungkook could lift you up and place you on the pantry table like you weighed nothing. Not when you were so dazed that it was only after he had coaxed you to lay down on the flat surface, pulled up a chair and sat between your spread legs that you could string together a proper sentence. “Jungkook, what are you doing!?”

“I haven’t eaten all day. I can’t help but be tempted by this delicious feast spread in front of me,” he smirked. Heat burnt your cheeks at having your clothed center being stared at and described in such a fashion but he effectively nipped any arguments you might have had in the bud by pressing a finger to your middle. Immediately the lace stuck to your skin, glued together by the slick of your own making. You squirmed in discomfort and need for more, but Jungkook was relentless in his teasing, simply running its tip up and down the cloth covering your entrance lightly. Frustration and nervousness prompted you to whine, “Someone will see us.”

“Even if I care, everyone’s out for lunch,” he growled, and to prove his words, he grabbed the waistband of your thongs and pulled them down, making sure to squeeze your ass cheek as he did so.

Even though what he said was true, you couldn’t help feeling anxious, propping yourself up on your elbows to cast a glance at the closed door until the sight between your legs dragged your attention away from it. His now onyx eyes glinted with lust and mischief, and when they locked with yours, he pursed his pink lips together and blew playfully against your sopping pussy. The warm air hitting your cool skin created contrasting tingles that caused your inner walls to clench around nothing and reverberated into shivers reaching every nerve ends. It was enough to make you collapse on your back and beg, “Jungkook, please,” disregarding the risk of being caught.

The corner of his lips curled into a lazy smirk. “A feast so amazing should be enjoyed with all the senses, you know.” Confused, you could only look on as his gaze shifted away from yours to the dripping cunt before him, eyeing it as if it really was a ten course dinner. “Have you any idea how beautiful your pussy is? So pink and wet, just for me.” Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, so close to where you wanted him most that you struggled against the impulse to trap him between your legs and keep him there. The way he inhaled your scent so deeply would be mortifying had he not followed it with the most satisfied growl. “Of course a large part of appreciating a good spread is the smell, and when it’s this good…” Finally he faced your slit, licking up a strip and stopping just shy of your clit. “You just know that it tastes exquisite.”

You gasped at the contact and lifted your hips up to chase him as he drew back, eliciting a deep chuckle from him. Instead of giving you what you clearly wanted, he brushed his hands up and down your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “Not only do you taste good, but you feel amazing. And one of the things I love most is the sound of you.” The last word was punctuated with a shove of his two fingers into your wet heat. Your moan didn’t quite mask the squelching sound that your lower lips made from the sudden intrusion. “I could listen to you all day.”

With the words uttered like he had all the time in the world, he started finger-fucking you in earnest. The rough movements against your walls sparked frictions that shot straight at the growing ball within your lower stomach and lent volume to your increasing cries of desperation. At the edge of your consciousness you heard a loud bang of wood hitting the floor and realised with a start that you must have accidentally kicked a chair as your body writhed under his vicious ministrations, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Neither could Jungkook, but he looped his arms around your legs, pulling you up and even closer to him. Your whine of protest at the loss of contact with his digits soon turned into whimpers of pleasure when his mouth replaced his fingers. Opening his mouth wide to envelop your pussy, the movements of his lower jaw gave you the impression of literally devouring you whole, his teeth lightly nipping your folds as his tongue explored every bit of you, outside and inside as far as he could reach. One of his hands on your waist holding you down reached your clit, thumb drawing tight circles around the hardening nub.

You were completely helpless. Spiralling out of control yet unable to do anything beyond gasping for air and begging for mercy. Heels of your shoes that he placed against his back dug in unintentionally as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. His name falling from your lips hiked up in pitch and volume, coupled with tremors wracking your body warning him of your impending release. You could feel rather than see him smile against you mere moments before he caught your sensitive clit between his thumb and forefinger and pinched.

For a split second, you felt the ball tighten in the pit of your stomach at the same moment every muscle in your body was pulled taut, then the next you were exploding. The world ceased to exist around you; there was only you, Jungkook and his wicked mouth and fingers working you through your frenzy, holding you down as your hips bucked uncontrollably into his face so you couldn’t escape the mind blowing euphoria. You had no idea how long he had you trashing and moaning for him until you were hoarse, but the next thing you remember was your bleary eyes slowly focusing on the sight of him still planted between your thighs, lapping up every drop of your cum.

Once he was satisfied with his cleaning job and ascertained that you had recovered your wits, he bent down to retrieve your underwear and helped you put them back on before slipping his arm behind your back to lift you off the table and onto the floor. Even after the clatter of your high heels echoed off the marble tiles, Jungkook kept his sturdy hold on you, making sure that you wouldn’t fall and you were glad for his support. As you looked up at him, aware of your wobbly legs, all you could see was softness in his eyes, contrasting with the insistent bulge pressed against your stomach. You started to reach for it but he grabbed your wrist in his hand. “I’ll be late for that meeting if I don’t go now. But before I go, there’s still that question I want to ask you.”

The little remaining strength you had in your lower limbs gave out when his hand on your back pushed you into his hard form. If he hadn’t been holding you up, you were sure you would have collapsed into a heap on the floor. A soft whimper emanated from you at the desire his hard cock sparked inside you, making your core throb and flood anew. However, his query surprised you. “Are you free tonight?”

It was not something you’d been expecting, so your immediate response was the stark truth; no pretense or attempts at playing hard to get. Not that it would make a difference. Your desire for Jungkook was clear as day, or so you thought. “Yes.”

His grin made him look positively boyish, rearranging his features so that the dangerous, sinful werewolf that had you in his claws just a moment ago disappear into thin air. His clear happiness at your answer made your heart flip in a way that it had never done before. “Then will you let me take you out for dinner?”

Like a robot on autopilot, you just nodded, unable to form a proper answer. It was enough for Jungkook though. He was practically beaming as he finally released you from his hold, staying close until he was sure you could stand on your own then pressed a chaste kiss on your lips. You were sure that the ecstatic grin on your own face looked silly in comparison, waving him off like a giddy school girl who just got asked out on a first date.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. You hardly touched the food Jin brought back for you, and even though Jungkook was gone from the office for the rest of the day, you couldn’t keep your mind off of him. Even when you were directing all your power of concentration on work, the thought of tonight remained at the back of your mind, and you left the office at the earliest opportunity.

It had been a while since you were looking forward to a date this much. So long since you gave your makeup, your hair, your outfit, pretty much your overall appearance so much thought. After showering and almost an hour agonising over every little detail, you decided to go with your normal makeup routine because you didn’t want to seem like you were trying too hard. However, you did change up your hairdo into a style that was softer than the ones you usually wore in the office, and paired it with a simple black dress that fell smoothly to effortlessly highlight your curves.

Part of you were afraid that it wasn’t enough, but the way Jungkook’s face lighted up when he saw you all the way from the inside his car before stepping out to open the passenger door for you put your mind at ease. “You look beautiful,” he whispered almost reverently.

You settled in the seat and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear to hide the blush that coloured your cheeks, even though it was probably too dark for him to see. “Thank you.”

“Almost as beautiful as you were when I left you this afternoon,” he continued teasingly. Your eyes flew to him in surprise at his bold statement, but he didn’t meet yours, his own already on the road as the stepped on the accelerator. The lopsided smile that graced his features was playful, but his words still made you shiver with excitement mixed with embarrassment. There was no doubt that he left you in a wanton mess earlier, sated yet craving for more, your hair mussed up, clothes in disarray from your trashing about, body trembling from the force of the orgasm that he drew out from you yet still calling out to his.

Sensing your awkwardness in response to his remark, he reached for your hand, clasping it in his and lifting it to his lips. It was such a jarring gesture compared to the fiery, passionate treatment he had shown you before, but instead of being unsettled, it made you relax.

The restaurant Jungkook took you to was one of the nicer ones in town. Things were comfortable enough until the waiter took your orders, after which you didn’t know what to expect. It was funny, but you didn’t think that you’d ever feel this awkward or unsure around him. Even though you had been nursing a crush on Jungkook almost immediately after you joined the company and had been intimate with him several times already, the conversations you’d had with him were rarely personal. He had always looked out for you at work but that was all you talked about; work. Guilt poked at your conscience when you realised that you had been falling head over heels for a man you knew almost nothing about – beyond his professional position and the fact that he was an animal in bed.

However, that wasn’t all that you knew. Despite being in the dark about his background, he trusted you enough with the fact the he was a werewolf, something that he had kept in the dark from his other colleagues. You harboured no such secret, but you’d trust him with anything. There may be a lot about Jungkook that you still didn’t know, but you were sure that his kind, caring personality wasn’t just an act. Just like the fact that he was a being you thought was just a myth until not too long ago, it didn’t matter what his past was. You were attracted by the person that it had shaped. You can always learn more about him later, if he was willing to share it with you.

With that goal in mind, you resolved to use this opportunity to get to know him a little more. On the other hand, wishing to do something and actually doing it are two different things. It seemed that Jungkook was of the same mind as you, but with more courage. As soon as the waiter was out of sight, he rested his chin on his palm and casually asked, “So, how come you’re staying alone in the city?”

Just like that, Jungkook smoothly weeded out stories from your past. You discovered how easy it was to share everything with him, no matter how ugly, no matter how embarrassing. He was a great listener, asking the right questions and laughing at the right places. With every anecdote your confidence bolstered, until you were brave enough to ask him a question of your own. “Are there more of you?”

“More of us?” His lazy smirk at your question proved that his reply was rhetorical. “You mean werewolves?” At your eager nod, he elaborated, “There is a small group in the city. Namjoon is our alpha – our leader, so to speak. He takes care of us, but we’re really apart of a bigger clan that is led by Namjoon’s father.”

Course by course, the meal passed by just like that. Just as he learnt about your family, your hometown, and your closest friends, you found out more about his pack that extended beyond his immediate family, the other werewolves who lived in the city and various stories about him growing up, most of them reckless adventures that were hilarious. Conversations that would have been difficult with anyone else was effortless with Jungkook. By the time he was driving you home, you were relieved that there was nothing about him that would make you second guess your affections for him. Spirits light and worries eased, when he stopped his car in front of your apartment building you asked him to come in. It all came crashing down at his refusal.

“Don’t you want to come in?”

The smile he wore as he shook his head no was gentle, but mysterious. Instead of saying anything, he moved forward over the handbrake and cradled the side of your face, drawing you into a kiss. You melted into his touch at once; his lips moved slowly against yours, but didn’t delve further than that. Not that he needed to. Even without his wicked tongue added into the mix, he could dissolve you into a helpless puddle just by touching you, and you were breathless when he finally pulled back. Imploring eyes searched his face for a reason for his rejection, but his only answer was;

“With you, not everything is about sex.”

The Tiger’s Labmate (M)

Namjoon x Reader

Genre: University AU, fluff, angst and smut

Warnings: Public sex (I don’t know why I keep writing these with Namjoon XD ), unprotected sex, inappropriate laboratory conduct

Word count: 8,456 words


You are perched on the tall laboratory stool at one of the tables, trying to look unaffected. However, it is difficult to maintain a cool facade when the girls in your class make a show for their sympathy for you as they pass by to take their own seats, smiling with pity, patting your back in consolation and saying words of encouragement in tones that are just chirpy enough to tell you that they’re actually enjoying your misery. It isn’t surprising though; you knew this would happen after the grouping for this course’s lab came out and you are again paired with one of the guys.

Just then the man himself saunters into the room, quickly spotting you and heading over. Your gaze moves higher and higher as he approaches, finally having to tilt your head up when he stands next to your table. “I guess we’re lab partners this semester,” he points out the obvious with a dimpled smile.

“Yeah.” You nod and gesture for him to take the seat next to yours. Namjoon. No introductions are made since he probably knows who you are, and assumes that you know him since you’re taking the same course. Truthfully, you had to ask a classmate to point him out to you earlier. He’s not easy to miss, you thought to yourself as you took in his towering height, his small, handsome face and his cute smile, wondering for a second why he hadn’t caught your attention before. The answer is simple, really, and you know it yourself. After being paired with three different guys in various courses, you decided that the male population in your course are jerks and didn’t bother getting to know the rest unless you had to.

Up close, Namjoon’s height seems more intimidating, which is why you feel better when he’s sitting rather than standing. His dimples look even more adorable at a shorter distance, and his eyes manage to convey a sincerity that somehow endears him to you. On the other hand, your wariness isn’t something that is so simple that it can be brushed off with physical attributes. Before you can open your mouth to tell him something to that effect and probably make a fool of yourself from the get-go, the postgraduate student supervising the lab sessions for the course walks in and starts the briefing right away.

The first experiment is very simple and goes off without a hitch. Namjoon is pretty helpful and does his part so far, but that is to be expected. Perhaps it is the application of the theories you are taught in class that gets them excited, but they’re always eager to run the experiments. It’s getting them to write the reports that you find troublesome.

The labmates you’ve had before this were horrible partners. Knowing that they are paired with one of the top students in the year, they simply let you do all the work – essentially forcing you to do so since you need to keep your grades up to hold onto your scholarship. At first you tried to arrange meet-ups and write the report together, but they either contributed nothing to the discussion or simply not showed up at all. When you tried splitting the work, they didn’t even bother to send in their parts before the due date, and you ended up having to finish their share of the work the night before the deadline.

Last semester you’d had enough. After two rows of being disappointed by your labmate, you marched towards the supervising postgraduate and demanded to work separately. As expected, she was taken aback by your unexpected request and the other students in the session enjoyed the drama, even though it was short – you weren’t out to embarrass or demean your partner, no matter how angry you were with him. If you’re going to end up doing everything anyway, might as well keep all the marks to yourself. At least others won’t be benefiting off of your hard work. It was as simple as that.

There is no doubt that the girls are looking forward to witnessing another fiasco this semester, especially when you’re paired with yet another boy. You absolutely loathed the fact that they have already expected that you will lose patience with your new partner, but unfortunately it is an outcome that you believe will unfold as well. So it is with wariness that you ask Namjoon how he plans to divide the report work between the two of you, fully expecting him to shirk the responsibility or make excuses to dump the work on you.

“Why don’t we meet up and write it together?” He suggests with a nonchalant shrug.

“That’s fine by me. How about we do it on Thursday night?” As long as you actually turn up, you add to yourself.

He winces at the idea. “Sorry, but I have badminton practices on Thursdays. Can’t we do it another day?”

You frown, not wanting to reschedule the days you have set for meetups for your other classes and unable to rearrange your own club meetings. “How about the weekend? My evenings are full on other weekdays.”

“I don’t really want to spend time on homework on weekends,” he hisses, features scrunching in repulsion at the idea. It may have been cute if you’re not so frustrated you are tempted to pull at your hair. Or better yet, at his brown locks. However, before you can voice your irritation or come up with another solution, he suggests, “Why don’t we divide the reports? You write the one for this experiment, I’ll do the next one, and so on. That way we can work on our own time.”

You purse your lips in thought, intrigued by the idea. “Sounds good, but how will I know that you won’t submit a shitty report?”

His only response is a rise of his right eyebrow, which makes your heart flutter for no good reason. Still, you can’t bring yourself to trust him without seeing the quality of his work. “Why don’t you pass me the report at least two days before the due date? I’ll do the same. That way we can check if there are any mistakes that needs correcting.” And I’ll have time to write a proper report and toss out your shitty one.

“Sounds reasonable,” he says in that deep voice of his as he hurriedly shoves his things into his black backpack, obviously in a rush to join his friends who are already walking out to get lunch.

“I guess I’ll take this one then,” you call out to his retreating back, and he acknowledges you with a wave. Looks like you have about two weeks until he shows his true colours.


As you’ve expected, Namjoon finds nothing unsatisfactory in your first report, submitting it as it is. Trepidation starts to creep up on you as the days pass after your second lab session, anticipating Namjoon’s email. You can’t explain why you’re feeling this way when you’ve already prepared yourself to receive shoddy work. Unlike the other guys you’ve been paired with before, you find yourself really wishing that he will not disappoint you.

Surprisingly, a notice of an email from Namjoon pops up on your notifications three days before the deadline. Immediately you open it and read through the attachment, the assignment that you’ve been working on before lying next to your laptop, completely forgotten. Diving into the report, you expected a simple write-up that doesn’t explain the results of the experiment well, or worse, a blatant copy of a senior’s report, but it is nothing like that. Pleasant surprise fills you with every page, every sentence like drops of water pouring into an empty glass after a long drought, and you actually have to read the document twice before replying to the email, unable to believe there is nothing you want to change.

From: y/n y/l/n
To: Kim Namjoon
Subject: Lab Report

Nothing to add or correct. I’ll print it out and hand it in at the next lab session.

He doesn’t reply so you assume that he doesn’t have a problem with it, but the next time you see him, a corner of his plump lips seems to be curled up just a smidgen. Ultimately you decide that his smugness is just a fabrication of your imagination, and decide not to comment upon it.

This part of the semester continues in more or less the same manner; each of you taking turns to complete the report, neither of you having anything to correct or add to the other’s work. Your classmates quickly lose interest when the supposedly imminent blow-up on your part never arrives. For once, you have been lucky enough to get a partner who isn’t only a smart and responsible student, but also a good-looking and friendly man. Not that you know him in much depth, really, since you never really interact beyond the lab sessions and the formal-sounding emails you exchange with each other, but you can tell that he’s a warm and kind person just by watching him from afar. The semester passes by without any incident, because you don’t count slowly falling for your labmate worthy of note.

Until one morning, you wake up to find that another email has been sent to you last night, just after you had gone to sleep. Seeing the name of the sender fills you with dread and you quickly tap on the notification to open it, rubbing sleep from your eyes as the application loads on your phone. The message jolts you up more effectively than any cup of coffee ever could.

From: Kim Namjoon
To: y/n y/l/n
Subject: Lab Report

I was just going through the calculations again and spotted a mistake. I’ve corrected it and will print it out to submit in the morning.

You check for an attachment, looking for the amended report but there is none. Immediately you type out a text to Namjoon – the first message you’ve sent to him that isn’t in the form of an email.

Y/n [07:15]: There’s a mistake in the calculations?

After staring at the phone for several moments, you start to feel like an idiot for expecting a reply right away. It’s pretty early and he is probably still asleep, since the lab session is the first class of the day and it doesn’t start until nine. In an effort to stop obsessing over his reply, you decide to take a long shower to soothe your nerves.

The cool drops of water hitting your body doesn’t do much to distract you from the mistake you might have made, but it does calm you down a little, and by the time you get back into your room, your phone illuminates with a reply.

Namjoon [07:40]: Good morning to you too.

Before you can feel bad for bombarding him without a proper greeting, your phone chimes again.

Namjoon [07:41]: It’s just a simple mistake. I already corrected it and made changes to the subsequent calculations so don’t worry.

Biting your lower lip, you consider your reply as if he is right in front of you and you need to say it to his face. Of course you worry. Perhaps you did make a mistake, but what if you got it right all along and he just botched up your report? However you don’t want to come off as frantic and distrusting, especially since he has done nothing wrong so far. You find yourself keen to give him the benefit of the doubt, but past experiences have taught you to be thorough.

Y/n [07:50]: Can I see it before we hand it in? I’d like to see where I went wrong.

The phone goes quiet for a while after that, during which you try not to badger him with more messages. It has taken you a few minutes to think about and type out your last reply, so he probably put down his phone to do other things. Instead you switch on your laptop to open your copy of the report so you can try to detect any mistakes. However, before you can open the document, the screen of your phone brightens with another message.

Namjoon [07:58]: Sure, I’m about to head out and grab some breakfast. Why don’t we meet at the lab before it starts? It should be open by then.

You stare at the device in your hand in surprise. Truthfully you expected him to simply email the file back to you, but you suppose it’s easier to meet so he can point out the changes to you himself. Although he must be confident with his correction, since there won’t be any time to change the report by then. Shrugging to yourself, you toss the things you need for the day into your tote bag and head out.

The walk to the chemical engineering block isn’t too far from your dormitory if you take the shortcut, but this morning you decide to walk past the other academic buildings, brisk steps covering the longer route allowing you to vent out the nervous energy bouncing inside. As it is, you’re already in the lab when Namjoon arrives, cheeks bulging like a squirrel harbouring what you guess is the last of his morning meal.

“Here,” he barely manages to make out with his mouth full, handing you a packet of chocolate bread. “Have you been waiting long?”

You shake your head, both to his question and at your surprise at his gesture. “Aren’t you going to eat that?” He asks. “I didn’t poison it, you know.”

“No eating in the lab,” you state, dropping the bread in your bag. Then you smile at him, wanting to let him know that you appreciate it. “But thank you. I’ll eat it later.”

He laughs at your response. “You’re such a good girl, y/n.” For some reason, you can take his words as a compliment, blushing instead of feeling irritated as you would with someone else. Looking down at the bag where the food is being kept, you feel warm and suddenly relaxed. Lifting your gaze, you look at Namjoon settling down and rummaging his bag for the report. Then you realise; you trust him. He has proved all your expectations wrong and shown his capability and sense of responsibility over and over again. There’s no reason for you to worry. He must have made the changes after making sure that he is correct, and you feel a little small for doubting him.

Still, when he turns the pages of the report, you lean closer to see the numbers his index finger is pointing at. “You just did a miscalculation here. It’s supposed to be three-point-six to the power of negative five, not the power of negative six,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone.

You plunge your hand into your bag to search for your calculator, but he is one step ahead of you. “Here, use mine,” he says, setting the black device on the table so he can watch while you double check the mathematical workings.

He is right; your calculation was off by a power of ten. The guilt deepens as you try to formulate an apology. “I did get it wrong. I’m sorry about that, and thanks for correcting it.”

“Hey, it’s no big deal,” he grins, the prominent dimples making another appearance. “I can’t believe that the tiger actually makes mistakes.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh! Um,” his eyes dart away from yours as he realises that he has committed a faux pas. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. Everyone makes mistakes after all.”

“No, I don’t mean that,” you clarify. “What did you call me?”

This time you can see the tips of his ears colouring as you zone in on the slip of his tongue. “I thought you knew… the guys in our class call you that. B-behind your back, of course.”

He says it like it’s a good thing, but you ignore his last sentence. You know that they talk about you behind your back, but to have a nickname that isn’t meant in a good way actually hurts more than you could have imagined. To you, caring about your grades is a good thing, necessary even, since you have a scholarship to maintain. Attending a private university costs a fortune, but you made your choice when you wanted to join one of the best programs the country has to offer. You have no choice but to do your best in assignments, tests and reports, even if it means having to be strict with your partners. It’s just as frustrating for you to get an uncooperative teammate as it is for them to get an overzealous one.

“I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have said that,” Namjoon apologises, correctly interpreting your silence as a sign of being hurt. “Especially since I don’t agree with them.”

“It’s not like I enjoy asking people to do our joint assignments properly,” you say, glad to hear that your voice is coming out strong and stable. “I’d love for someone else to take the reins, but we can’t all be rich kids who don’t need to care about their GPA.”

“I understand. That’s why I really am sorry.”

You nod mutely, accepting his apology. A few moments of silence pass, and he adds, “Some rich kids do care about their GPA, you know.”

Scoffing in disbelief, you glance sideways to see him already looking at you. “You mean, like you?”

“Well, more than academic performance, I’m actually interested in learning. I’m not here to just get a degree to make my parents happy. Although there’s that too, of course,” he acknowledges with a tilt of his head.

You hum thoughtfully at his statement, a little impressed despite yourself. Once in a while you’ve had to remind yourself that you’re ultimately in the pursuit of learning, not just to get straight A’s. “You must be one in hundreds then.”

“The only one in this class probably,” he laughs, and you can’t help but crack a smile even though it isn’t even that funny.

“And you’re the only one around here who makes me feel happy just by smiling,” he comments on your improving mood.


“I’m just saying you should smile more. You look so uptight most of the time.”

“How can I help it, with the guys calling me names behind my back,” you say half-jokingly, trying to gloss over the fluttering of your heart at his previous comment.

“Who cares about them? A smart, capable woman like you doesn’t need a man to survive, or to be happy. Unless… you need to get laid?” A wiggle of his eyebrows accompanies the last remark.

“W-what?” You repeat stupidly, flabbergasted at being asked such a daring question by the guy you’ve developed a crush on out of the blue.

“I mean, how long has it been since you’ve gotten some physical satisfaction?” He rests his elbow on the table and plants the side of his face in his palm, watching you as if your answer to the question is the most interesting thing in the world. You, on the other hand, don’t think you’ve ever felt more mortified your entire life.

Before you can think of a response, he bursts into laughter. His impossibly deep voice makes his guffaw insanely sexy, and your body responds accordingly, tingling at the pleasant sound. “You’re cute when you get all panicky like that. It’s good to see another side of you, different from the intimidating student with perfect GPA. See, you’re a normal human being just like the rest of us,” he nudges you playfully and looks away, a signal that you’re off the hook.

However, something about his words, something about him makes you want to answer the question. To expose your weak, vulnerable self. To show him that he should not be intimidated by you. “It’s been a while.”


You’re not sure if he didn’t hear your whispered answer, or if he doesn’t understand what you meant by it. “It has been a while since I… got any physical satisfaction, as you put it.”

At first he looks surprised by your confession, but in a split second his features soften, then turn thoughtful. You can almost see the gears turning in his head before he ceases any and all of your mental activity by leaning in to whisper, “How long has it been since someone got this close to you, then?”

Warm breath tickles the shell of your ear, the close proximity, the smell of soap from his morning shower mixed with his scent causing your heart to beat twice as fast. “A-a while.”

“Really?” He sounds genuinely surprised, but is quick to recover to pull back just a little so he can cup your face and look into your eyes. “Then… how long has it been since you’ve been kissed?”

Before you can answer, he darts forward, pressing his lips to yours. Even though the kiss is soft, almost hesitant, it catches you by surprise. Your eyes wide, unblinking, unlike his closed ones, so near you can see each eyelash, but not for long. It’s not difficult to give in to the kiss, your eyelids fluttering shut and you press back against him.

Sensing your reciprocation encourages Namjoon to deepen the chaste contact, angling his head to get even closer and making things a lot less innocent. His tongue swipes your bottom lip and you part them immediately, letting him explore your mouth. The hand on your cheek remains there, his thumb softly brushing back and forth but his other hand has other ideas, moving down the side of your body.

The white lab coat you’re wearing adds another barrier to his touch but he doesn’t let it deter him, continuing to the hem of your skirt where it meets your knees. He pushes them apart so he could drag his stool a little closer between them, hiking your modest skirt up to your mid-thighs. You’re already short of oxygen from his kiss, but air flow seems to completely stop as you feel the slightly rough palm brushing against your inner thighs, making its way closer and closer to your center.

Nervousness mounts inside you, but you don’t want to stop him, regardless of what he may think when he discovers the proof of your arousal between your legs. Sure enough, it only takes a gentle pressure on your panties to tell both of you that you’ve soaked through the material. He pulls back a little, breaking the kiss but still close enough for you to see that his brown irises have all but disappeared with lust. “How long has it been since you’ve gotten this wet?”

His question retains some of the teasing that it had earlier, but it is almost unrecognisable under the need in his voice. “I don’t remember,” you breathe, barely able to get the words out. The statement is truthful; you honestly can’t remember when you’ve gotten so aroused, if ever. All you know is that you want him to keep touching you, even if it causes you to burst into flames.

You sigh into his next kiss as he rubs your core through the ruined panties, but shame returns when he backs away and abruptly sinks to his knees between your legs. His hungry gaze pierces into you as he silently hooks the band of your panties. Biting your lower lip, you nod and lift yourself up using the seat as a leverage so he can pull your underwear down.

With your skirt bunched up nearly to your waist, your pussy is completely exposed to him. Knowing that he can see your juices dripping onto the stool fills you with utter mortification, but his position between your legs prevents you from closing them. He runs the tips of his fingers up and down your slit tentatively, experimentally applying more and more pressure, enjoying the increasing volume of your moans until two of his digits pierce into your warm heat.

You hiss in pleasure as your walls part to make room for his fingers, moving in and out slowly at first, but gradually gaining speed. Unconsciously you buck forwards, blinding searching for more, just a fraction of an inch but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon. Using his free hand, he coaxes you to widen the space between your legs so he can lean forward to flick his tongue over your clit.

“Namjoon!” You gasp and he groans, from the taste of you or from his name uttered so wantonly from your lips, you’re not sure which. He alternates between giving your bundle of nerves kittenish licks that drive you crazy and pressing the flat of his tongue against it, making you tremble. His digits never stop moving, now making obscene noises every time he shoves them into your flooding core, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

That is, until his dewy lips form an ‘o’ to suck on your clit, and any remaining sense you have is tossed out the window. Your grip on the edge of the table is so hard that your knuckles  turn white but you hold on, calling his name over and over as the only thing you can think of is his mouth attacking your sensitive bud and his fingers hooking to brush against that spot inside you and you simply explode. From head to toe your body shakes from your orgasm, head thrown back as you hold on to the table and the strands of his hair so you don’t topple off the stool.

Blinding white adorned with stars fills your vision as your high takes over, not noticing that Namjoon has removed his fingers so he can lap up your juices. Once you’ve regained your sight, he has already licked you clean, although the lower half of his face is covered with your essence. The sight floods your pussy again and this time you make the initiation, pulling him up to share a rough kiss, but before you can do anything else, the sound of your classmates approaching wrenches both of you back to reality.

Remembering where you are drives you into a panic, hopping down your seat to yank your ruined panties back on so hurriedly you almost fall over but Namjoon quickly grabs you by the shoulders and hold you steady until you’re ready to sit again. Then he swiftly wipes his face with the sleeve of his shirt just as the first of the students pile in. Your cheeks are blazing with arousal and embarrassment, and for the rest of the morning you can’t bring yourself to look at Namjoon for more than two seconds, focusing on the motions of the experiment instead of his face, his lips, his fingers… and the tent in his pants that he tries to hide by standing as close to the desk as possible.

After that incident, you find yourself talking to Namjoon a little more. Just a little more. Your conversations mainly revolve around classes and assignments, never anything personal, but at least you’ve gone beyond the formal weekly emails that you exchange for the sake of your lab reports. However, neither of you brought up that occurrence again, and you start thinking that it was just the one time. Slowly you’re able to gather your courage to act normally around him again, even as your feelings for him grow, enraptured by his personality and wit. On the other hand, part of you is disappointed that he hasn’t made another move since.

Your contact with him, even in classes are still minimal, since you usually sit with the more studious girls and he typically hangs around with the guys in the class, although sometimes you spot him sitting away from the rowdy crowd when he wants to concentrate. Times like these make you wish that you can sit next to him, wondering if he will make interesting comments on the topics covered in the courses as he usually does in your shared lab sessions. The cowardly side of you prevents you from taking the leap, afraid of what others will think if you suddenly sit close to him, wondering if people will assume that you’re dating if you do so.

It’s not much of a concern for Namjoon it seems, as you find out a fortnight later. Halfway through your Process Plant Design class, the lecturer flashes the next assignment on the large projector before the computer room. You look at the problem carefully, mentally planning the design of the heat exchanger in your mind, but your thoughts are interrupted when he declares that the work must be completed in pairs. Upon finishing his announcement, students get up from their chairs at once, navigating around the long tables to secure a partner of their choice. You’re glued to your seat, watching your girl friends pair with each other, swivelling your head to see anyone you can team up with.

“Wanna do this together?”

Tilting your head up, relief washes over you even before you see Namjoon, because you already know that it’s him. You’d recognise that pleasant voice anywhere. You nod, agreeing right away and pull up a chair so he can sit next to you in front of the computer you’ve been using. This course includes the usage of AutoCAD, a drawing software that you find very engaging. You thoroughly enjoy figuring out the commands needed to draw the equipment, examining the results at different angles, slowly building the 3-D models to completion.

As usual, you like to do things methodically, but Namjoon works a little differently than you do. You don’t notice very much since you take turns working on the lab reports separately, but now that you’re discussing the assignment, you realise that he loves trying new things. He prefers to attempt the problem at hand using steps that are not established, experimenting with the software. At first you find it extremely frustrating since it results in a lot of mistakes, but slowly you start to enjoy his way of going about the homework, learning almost as much about the software in one day as you have the whole semester.

In fact, the two of you get so engrossed in the drawing that you stay for over an hour after the class ends, the lecturer telling you that he needs to lock the room by eight that night and reminding you to leave by then. You don’t stay that long, but the sky is already tainted a deep orange when you and Namjoon exit the building. You start heading off in the direction of your dormitory, but he stops you by grabbing your wrist, freezing you in your tracks at the first physical contact you’ve had with him since he touched you so intimately.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my dorm,” you answer incredulously. He must know where you’re staying; most of the students are staying at the dorms, as the university is quite isolated, housing options are very limited.

“I’ll walk you back,” he offers, but it’s more of a statement than a request.

“Isn’t the boys’ dormitory the other way?”

“Yeah, but it’s getting late.” True enough, the walkways between the buildings are deserted, most of the students have already headed back after classes, the latest of which is at 5 o’clock. You don’t intend to argue with him, but the direction he’s dragging you towards makes you dig your heels into the cemented walkway, forcing him to slow down, but you’re not strong enough to make him stop completely.

“Namjoon! Why are we going this way?” You exclaim as he pulls you away from the buildings into the large circular garden in the middle of the academic structures.

“Because this is a shortcut, dummy.”

“I know that,” you retort. The beautiful campus has the departments built around the huge garden. Although a ‘park’ seems a more fitting term; it has sections of trees growing thick and in large enough groups that it’s impossible to see through them, several gazebos and even a stream running through it. Cutting across the gorgeous green space would bring you to the other side of the academic grounds, and your dormitory lies just beyond. “But we’re not supposed to use this way after six!”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, suspecting the reason for your protests. “You don’t believe this place is haunted, do you?”

“You know that if a security guard sees anyone entering this place after hours, they ask you to take the longer route, don’t you?” You counter.

“Did you see any guard stopping us?”



You jerk your arm out of his hold irritably, but continue to walk on the stones placed in a twisting path, a trail made for aesthetic purposes as well as to discourage people from trodding on the grass. “Do you know why one side of the buildings is never finished?” The buildings surrounding the garden are built in the shape of a five pointed star, but one side remains unfinished and deserted.

His non-committal shrug almost goes unnoticed out of the corner of your eye as you widen your strides, eager to escape the park. “It’s because they won’t let the university build on their land.”

“Who’s ‘they’? You mean ghosts?” He doesn’t sound convinced, not by a long shot, but he’s not making fun of you either, and you’re thankful for that.

“Ghosts. Demons. I don’t know, supernatural beings. The university isn’t new and it’s not like they don’t have money so why don’t they finish it otherwise? It’s the only explanation. And you know that stream is part of their dwelling too, don’t you?” You point to the running water just a few metres away, repeating the stories your seniors have told you.

“You know that people say talking about them is a way of summoning them, don’t you?” His soft whisper from behind you lends the words a creepy air and you immediately clamp your lips shut. You continue walking resolutely, fuming at your own idiocy. “You were the one who made me talk about it,” you blame him. Only silence greets your unfair accusation, and after a few steps you realise that the sound of his sneakers have stopped.

Turning around, your heart leaps into your throat. Behind you stands no one. “Namjoon?” You call, fear making you frantic, wondering what caused his disappearance.

“Namjoon!” You start to retrace your steps despite being scared out of your wits, finding him being the only goal in your mind. However, before you can take more than a few steps, a hand taps your shoulder from behind, making you scream, the worst scenarios playing in your head. It’s only Namjoon, laughing so hard he has to clutch his stomach.

“Fuck you, Namjoon! That was mean,” you scold him, your voice coming out much louder than you intended as you realise that he must have hidden in some of the greeneries to scare you. You march past him at full speed, not caring for his company for a second longer.

He follows you from behind, still chuckling softly but it soon dies down when he realises how angry you are at his little prank. Catching up to you is easy with his long legs but upon catching sight of your teary eyes he sobers completely, then apologises somberly. You ignore that apology as well as his subsequent ones and after a while he falls silent. Still, he sees you right to your dorm, where you leave him without so much as a ‘goodnight’, much less a ‘thank you’.

Over the next few days, messages from him continues to fill your inbox at sporadic intervals; either apologies or attempts to start a conversation, all of which are ignored, but he has a good sense to stop just before he gets on your nerves too much. The time also gives you a chance to reflect upon your actions. Instead of remaining angry at Namjoon, your vexation turns onto yourself. You’re not completely unreasonable, and you do know that he was just playing a harmless joke, but when you actually think about it, the reason you’re so annoyed is because how it made you react. The crush on him is something that you’ve already acknowledged, albeit a little begrudgingly, but what you didn’t expect is the depth of your feelings for him.

You’re used to being overlooked, used to being made fun of, used to being talked about behind your back, used to be taken advantage of and used to being the brunt of jokes due to your intimidating behaviour in classes, too-serious personality and strong outward front. You’ve told yourself over and over again that you don’t care, yet it has made you even more closed off to people, afraid to show that you’re just as flawed as the next person, that you’re not strong because you want to be, but you’re strong because you have to be. It doesn’t matter what others think of you because people don’t really know you, but with Namjoon it’s different.

It may have started out as an accident, but Namjoon has seen through your cracks and instead of thinking less of you as you’d expected, he respects you even more as a person because of it. Your weaknesses, instead of being something to be hidden, becomes the reason he wants to get to know you better. The progress may have been slow, but you’ve been lowering your guard more and more around him as your trust in him grows. Perhaps that is why it hurt you so much when he laughed at you, even over something silly.

Your insecurities may have played a part in the way you reacted, but you know that it’s your shock over your feelings for him that made you lash out. The thought of him in danger, or of simply being absent in your life leaves you cold and terrified. After being used to distancing yourself emotionally from most people, the thought of liking someone this much and potentially opening yourself to being hurt is more than you can handle.

Most of all, as more time passes by, the more idiotic and immature you realise you’re being – up to the point where you have no idea what to say to redeem yourself. So when the following week rolls by you sit there on the bench next to him, watching him twist the small red valve wordlessly, still being stupidly silent because you don’t know how to express regret over your behaviour.

The air between you and Namjoon is heavy, only broken by his simple comments at how much sodium hydroxide has been used to titrate the solution in the conical flask. Normally you would argue with him over the shade of pink your phenolpthalein has turned into, but this time you write down the readings without complaint, accepting his decisions; your foolish way of making up to him that he probably won’t recognise.

Nothing worthy of note happens all morning until you’re done with the experiment. You’re washing the glasswares used while Namjoon puts them away, and just as you’re rinsing the last beaker you hear a smash of glass next to you. The supervising postgraduate swoops down to your table, telling Namjoon off for breaking the glass burette. Others file out of the lab, eager to get lunch but you stay behind, even though you can’t do or say anything while he’s being berated for his carelessness.

With a warning to be careful in the future and orders to clean up the mess, she exits, still frowning and mumbling to herself, leaving Namjoon behind with you. You get off of your chair and walk over to the corner of the room, scooping up the broom and dustpan that sit on the floor. “That’s okay, you can leave, I’ll clean up,” he says, but you shake your head and start sweeping up the pieces that fell on the floor. “Sorry for troubling you,” he apologises yet again, starting to pick up the shards of glass on the table.

“Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself.” You let go of the handle of the broom to reach for a cloth to protect your hands as you take the sharp remnants of the glassware from him. He nods gratefully, taking over the sweeping. “Besides, that’s my line.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, confused.

It’s time to set your ego and fears aside. The only way for things to change, for better or worse, is to push past your insecurities. “I’m sorry for acting the way I did before. I know it was just a joke.”

“Nah, I’m the one who took it too far,” he brushes it off, but you want him to know that you’re sincere. About everything.

“Still, I shouldn’t have gotten so mad and ignored you after that,” you reason, and before he can argue, you continue, “besides, I never returned the favour you did for me that time.” You have doubts about bringing this up, but you want him to know what you desire and this is the only way you can think of to bring it about.

“What favour?” His expression is genuinely puzzled as he tips the contents of the dustpan into the special bin for broken glassware.

“Uhm, that… you know.” You can feel your cheeks heating up, even though he isn’t looking at you, too busy taking off his lab coat and folding it.

When he takes in your hesitation and expression, however, the topic that you’re trying to broach suddenly clicks in his mind. “Oh.” It delights you to see him flaring pink as well, for the first time seeing Namjoon in a less than his usual confident state. “You don’t have to. I didn’t do it to get anything in return.”

“Why did you do it then?” You ask even though you’re dreading the answer. It’s not because he pities me, is it?

“Because… I like you,” he says with a shy chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck nervously before mumbling, “and you look really pretty in a lab coat.”

“Oh.” This time it’s you who aren’t sure how to respond. The cleaning is done, but neither of you move, almost frozen, both not wanting to leave the company of the other. Namjoon has made his feelings clear. It’s high time that you do the same. “Well, to be honest… I said I want to return the favour, but it’s really because I want to do it.”

“Oh.” The tension is so thick that you can cut it with a knife. “Why do you want to do it?”

Presented with the same question that you’ve asked him before, you find the answer thankfully easy. “Because I like you too.” With the confession off your chest, you step closer to him. Placing your palms on his chest, you note that he has gotten completely stiff, from shock or nervousness, you don’t know which, but his muscles jump pleasantly under his shirt at your touch.

Putting your weight on the balls of your feet and his steady form, you tiptoe to press your lips against his. Namjoon’s reactions are reflexive, leaning down so he can deepen the kiss, his hands on your back pushing your body flush against his. Evidence of his arousal is made clear to you just as you feel your underwear dampening, reminding you of your promise. This time it is you who sink down on your knees, trying to make quick work of his belt and jeans. Although the lab takes up most of the floor and it is lunch time, if anyone passes by they can still see you and Namjoon, but that risk adds to the thrill of doing something forbidden. No one would believe that the rigid model student would do such a thing, in a laboratory, no less.

Once you manage to undo his button and zipper, you impatiently pull it down with his boxers, and his cock slaps you in the face as it’s released from its confines. “Shit! Sorry, are you okay?” He cups your face in concern, but it doesn’t mask how his voice has grown husky with lust. You smile up at him, taking his shaft in your fist and flicking your tongue over the tip, much like the way he flicked his own over your clit weeks ago.

Namjoon’s groans fill your ears as you suck on the head, growing louder when you take more and more of him in your mouth. You start bobbing your head up and down his cock, giving him a preview of your warmth as your pussy gets wetter and wetter, begging for his dick. Your hand pumps the other half of his length that you can’t quite swallow, meeting your lips every time you take him in. His fingers tangle in your hair, his tight grip providing you with balance but he doesn’t force your movements. “God, you’re amazing,” he croaks when you fondle his balls gently with your free hand, the sudden twitch of his hips warning you of his impending high but you stop before he could reach his peak.

The only sounds coming out of his gaping mouth are the noisy inhale of air to replenish the oxygen in his lungs, but you can see the disappointment etched across his features at your denial. “Namjoon, I want you. Inside me,” you tell him clearly, leaving no room for doubts or misunderstandings.

“A-are you sure?”

“Yes,” you confirm, nearly tearing up as you rub your legs together, you need him that much. He helps you to your feet and you let him, not trusting the little strength left in the lower half of your body, but he doesn’t stop there. A squeal escapes you when he lifts you into his arms, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist so he can carry you to the table you’d just cleaned earlier, depositing you on the surface and placing himself between your dangling legs.

“Do you know how cute you are when you make sounds like that?” He asks right before he smashes his lips against yours, not giving you an opportunity to answer. “How beautiful you are when you have a serious look on your face?” Your mewls are muffled as he nips on your bottom lip. “How sexy you are when you’re like this?” He undoes as many buttons of your blouse as he can without taking off your lab coat, exposing the tops of your breasts to him. “Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been crushing on you all semester?” He flips your skirt up and pushes your soiled panties to the side, shoving two of his fingers all the way to his knuckles easily due to your overflowing juices.

“Namjoon,” you moan, holding on to him for dear life as he slams his digits into you over and over again, already making you shudder with excitement and desire.

“Do you know how delicious you taste?” Retracting his fingers from your heat, he pushes them into your mouth, watching like a depraved man as you suck on them, tasting yourself as your eyes lock onto his. “I could eat you out all day,” he professes, coaxing you to lie down on your back and staring at your pink center with only his starving gaze makes  you squirm.

You’d love to feel his mouth devouring your pussy again but right now you’re desperate for something else. “I need you inside me right now Namjoon. Please.”

“Anything you wish,” he says with a grin. He tugs your underwear off and runs the head of his cock along your folds, coating it with your arousal. You’re already going crazy with the simple contact, and you know you’re destined for insanity the moment he pushes into you. Inch by inch he spreads you open, stretching you to the limit to make room for his cock until he’s completely buried inside you.

For several moments all you can do is focus on your breathing, while he pauses to give you time to adjust to his size. “Damn, you’re so tight. I don’t know how long I can last like this,” he breathes.

“I don’t care. I just want you, Namjoon.”

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself at your words and begins to move, withdrawing until only the tip remains inside you, then plunging all the way in with such force that you let out a grunt as you’re pushed back on the table. “Are you okay?”

“More than okay. It feels so good.”

That is all the approval Namjoon needs. Holding your waist in a bruising grip, he starts thrusting hard, mercilessly pounding you into the unforgiving wooden surface. You can’t control your cries of pleasure bordering on pain from his powerful thrusts, but you don’t want him to stop, so you circle your legs around his middle, lifting your hips to try to meet his piston-like movements.

“Just look at your boobs bouncing in your lab coat like that, fuck you’re so hot,” he murmurs appreciatively at the sight before him. On the other hand, you can only whimper pathetically as your body jiggles with his thrusts, your limbs starting to tremble as he shoves you closer and closer to the edge.

His name falls from your lips repeatedly with growing urgency as you spin further and further out of control until you finally snap. Your screams heightens his pleasure almost as much as the sensation of your walls caving down on his cock, forcing his own high as he fucks you through your own. His release is hot inside your depths, and you relish the feeling, especially when he moans your name and bends over your body, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Soft kisses along your collarbones draws out a sigh of contentment from you, allowing yourselves a moment to come down from your euphoria before reality takes over.

As soon as you’re both dressed, Namjoon helps you off the desk, but doesn’t release your hand. His thumb swipes your hand back and forth tenderly as he asks, “I know I went about this all wrong, but would you be my girlfriend, y/n?”

You nod bashfully and feel his interlaced fingers tighten around yours as he smiles happily at your answer, his dimples giving you the urge to poke them. As you stroll out of the lab hand in hand, you wonder to yourself if you should bring an extra pair of underwear in your bag from now on.

What You Never Had: Chapter 5

Seokjin x Reader

Genres: Royalty AU, smut, angst, fluff

Word count: 4,253 words

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5


Under any other circumstances, the sight of Jin with his mouth gaping with shock would have amused you to no end. However, this was no situation to laugh about. You, the Princess Royal, were garbed in a dress belonging to your lady-in-waiting, standing in front of the room of a man in plain view; the room of your Royal Guard, no less, late at night when you were supposed to be asleep in your own chambers.

“Your Highness! What are you doing here?” He hissed, sounding surprised, a little angry, and more than slightly panicked, but he had the sense to lower his voice down so he didn’t attract any attention.

“Let’s talk inside,” you said instead, gently placing your palms on his chest so you could push your way into his room. Now that you were here, you felt less hesitant, enough to make that bold a move, and Jin was still in such a state of astonishment that he allowed you to cross the threshold of his sanctuary without any arguments.

At once your eyes swept the expanse of his room, quickly adjusting to the lack of light. You’d never been in a guard’s room, but the furnishings were similar to the ones in Ji Eun’s room. The small stack of papers on a desk in the far corner of the chamber, the deep colour of blue of his bedsheets, as far as you could tell in the dark and the lack of feminine knick-knacks made the space look more masculine.

If it was possible, you would have looked more closely to the details of the place Jin spent most of his nights  in nowadays but a soft click of the door from behind was a reminder that you were here for a reason. However, you waited. Suddenly nervous again. Part of you searching your brain for something to say, the rest of your mental capacity trying to deal with the full realisation that you were in a man’s room. You could feel his eyes burning holes through your back, but you were determined to ignore him in favour of collecting yourself, at least for now. Until –

“Why are you here? Have you completely lost your mind?” He demanded as he walked away from the door towards the large wooden table. A small lamp was lighted, illuminating the room with a soft, yellowish glow. You shifted your gaze towards the source of light just as he turned his back on it to look at you.

Cast into the shadows by the light shining behind him, the contrast made the planes of his face stand out, emphasising his beauty and robbing you of breath. However, his slanted brows and sharp eyes told you that he was waiting for an answer. Still, it took you several moments to gather your wits together to form a response.

“I’m worried about you,” you said softly, not wanting to give him more reason to be angry with you than he already did.

“Worried about me? Why?”

You didn’t answer. Somehow being in the same room with him alone was affecting you more than you would have expected. The glimmer of the lamp was soft and too small for the big room, the muted light unable to reach the other end of the chamber. In need of support, you walked further away from him, sitting at the foot of his bed instead of the hard chairs near his desk.

This position put you in the darker side of the room, making it hard for Jin to see your expression. Unable to make out your face and sensing that no answers were forthcoming, he crossed the space to stand in front of you.

“Tell me.” It was almost an order, a need to know why you were here in his chamber on your own at this hour.

“You looked really upset earlier. Even after the feast. On the way back, you seemed down-spirited,” you finally responded as you looked up at him with wide, concerned eyes. “Are you still angry with me?”

“Angry with you?” He said incredulously. “I am not angry with you.” When you didn’t look convinced, he moved his hand to palm the side of your cheek. The gesture made flowers bloom inside your being even as your heart thudded with increasing force as seconds ticked past.

Out of reflex, you reached for his other hand and held it between both your own. “Then what is it? It hurts me to see you unhappy.” As the words slipped past your lips you realised that it was true. It was painful for you to watch Jin sad, even if you were not the cause.

Sighing, he took a seat on the bed beside you, far enough that your bodies didn’t touch but close enough that you didn’t have to let go of his hand. When he spoke again, his voice had lost that sharp edge it had earlier. “I really was angry at myself. You should not concern yourself with it.”

“Does it have anything to do with me?” You probed, trying not to be too pushy, but you had a feeling that it did.

“You will think I’m a fool,” he said instead of answering your question.

“That’s impossible. You are one of the people I look up to the most.”

His bark of laughter at your praise was laced with bitterness and self-loathing. “Your high regard for me is misplaced, Your Highness.” You frowned at his use of honorifics, but let him continue without interruption. “Before I found out that you’re a princess, I…” he pulled his hand back, ashamed of himself. You heart sank when he did so, but you placed your own on your lap. It was more important to you to hear the reason he was so downcast. “I wanted to court you. That was why I was so upset when I found out the truth. For months I had been hoping that you would one day be my wife. Since not long after I met you, to tell you the truth,” he explained to his knees, refusing to look at you.

“It is the hardest thing in the world to see you every day, to be so close to you, yet to know that you are and will always be out of my reach. Then this afternoon, when I saw you with another man…” his hands bunched into furious fists as he recalled the incident, “I knew he was trying to force himself on you, but still, it served as a reminder that you are someone I could never have.”

His voice was filled with self hatred, and it tore your heart into shreds. Your eyes started to become moist, not just because of his sorrow, but due to the hope of an impossible future together that inevitably led to pain for you as well. Jin wanted to marry you. You had never desired for something more. Even before he confessed his feelings for you, it had been a daydream of yours. An insane infatuation that had grown more and more with each passing day, never thought to be reciprocated to that extent.

“Jin,” you whispered, reaching for the side of his face to coax him to look at you. The anguish etched upon his handsome face was mirrored on yours. Instinctively you leaned forward, closing the distance between you to capture his lips in a kiss.

At first the contact was light, filled with unspoken misery and heartbreak, but you couldn’t stop, and soon you began to crave for more. Angling your head, you deepened the kiss, pressing your body to his, but it wasn’t close enough. When it came to Jin, you couldn’t help but become selfish. Nothing would ever be enough. You yearned for every bit of him, and you wanted to give him all that you had in return.

Without even thinking, you climbed onto his lap to sit astride him. The fabric of your skirt strained to accommodate your new position, but you didn’t care. This way you could better feel the hard muscles of his chest against your breasts, the contact making your aureoles grow taut. His deep groan upon feeling the stiff pebbles through your clothes sent excited chills down your spine. That was when you felt it; his hardness pressed against your inner thigh, so very close to your core.

You might be an innocent, but you weren’t completely naïve. You knew what it meant. Jin wanted you. Perhaps just as much as you craved him. Perhaps even more. His palms, harsh and calloused from swordplay were pressing on your back, pushing you closer to him. The heat from them was only rivaled by the passion of his mouth, moving with yours in a desperate dance and when his tongue flicked out to silently ask for permission, you granted it immediately, parting your lips for it to enter.

His tongue exploring your mouth, his touch all over your body was making your breath erratic, but you could hardly care for breathing. Jin was your air, he was your oxygen. He was everything you needed. The only thing you desired. You slowly rolled your hips against his, instinct guiding you to make up for the lack of experience. At this, his hold tightened around you even more until his own hips bucked upwards in a sharp, reflexive move, making you whine at the unexpected jolt of pleasure that coursed up your spine from the motion and he regrettably broke the kiss with a moan.

“You have to go,” he said hoarsely, fighting the need to draw air into his lungs to get the words out. “I can’t control myself if you stay here a minute longer.”

It was clear that he was telling you the truth, but you found that you wanted him to lose control. The thought of leaving now was repugnant. This was where you needed to be. In his room. In his bed. In his arms. So instead of moving off his lap, you tugged your borrowed dress up and off of you before he could protest. Only your nightgown covered your modesty now, the cotton white and innocent but the material so thin that it didn’t hide the way your peaked nipples strained against it. “I want to stay.”

You could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat as he swallowed at the sight before him. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he cautioned, but the warning was weak, the husky quality only serving to rile you up even more.

“On the contrary,” you began, reaching up to unbutton your nightgown, “I know exactly what I’m saying.” With shaky fingers, you fumbled with the tiny disks holding the garment together, managing to progress just underneath the swell of your breasts before Jin slid his hands up your arms, stopping you as he captured your mouth again.

His kisses devoured not just your lips, but your entire being, your soul, yet his grip on your upper arms; so powerful it was bordering on painful, conveyed to you that he was more desperate than he let on. You couldn’t imagine needing him more than you did now, but he was set to prove you wrong.

You could feel his heart beating loudly underneath your palm as he nuzzled the column of your neck, peppering kisses along the length of it before he moved downwards. He tugged at the sides of your unbuttoned nightgown, revealing your breasts to him. Your own heart thudded in your chest when he took a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes zoned in on your heaving chest.

Before you could develop enough embarrassment to shield yourself from his gaze, he leaned forward and latched himself to one of the sensitive buds. Immediately you gasped, fingers finding their way to tangle in his silky hair, holding him in place just as much as to keep yourself upright. Never in your wildest dreams would you have guessed that such a simple act would send more spikes of pleasure down south. “Jin,” you mewled, arching your back as he teased the nipple with his tongue into becoming even stiffer than before while tweaking the other between the pads of his fingers. Moving your wet core against his clothed erection felt even more rewarding with less material separating you. Still, your body cried for more.

So you tugged on his shirt, shamelessly pulling it over his head and he allowed you to do so without any protest. The sight of his bare torso sent you into overdrive, but you didn’t have long to admire the defined muscles underneath the lightly tanned skin, because he decided that you needed to undress too. He pulled your nightgown over your head and held you tightly in his arms, lifting you up so he could lay you down in the middle of his bed. Then he drew back to look at you. His eyes filled with wonderment as he drank in the sight of you, fully naked in front of him. A small part of you wanted to cover yourself up and hide from his heated gaze, but somehow you didn’t want to. Being exposed and bared for Jin somehow seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re so… beautiful. So perfect.” He scoffed at himself, discontent with his own compliments for you, as if mere words were not enough to describe your beauty to him. His eyes marked a trail on your flesh, so intense was his stare, a path that was set on fire by his hands. It started from your neck, just below your ear, down the valley between your breasts, to the side to admire the flare of your hips, brushing your legs trembling with nervousness and exhilaration, tracing every bit of skin in between. His touch was gentle yet possessive, hungry but revering in the vision before him.

Your sharp intake of breath was unmistakable when Jin parted your legs just enough to slip his hand between them and the tips of his fingers brushed against your most intimate place. He groaned at his discovery between your thighs. “You’re so wet.” Your hands grabbed his sturdy shoulders when he started to rub back and forth between your folds, then gasped when he sank his index finger into you. “So tight,” he moaned raggedly. With just a few strokes, you could hear the slickened noises that your pussy made with every movement of his finger, and when another joined the first, the sensation was indescribable.

It wasn’t difficult for him to plunge you into a swirling vortex of sinful pleasure. Your iron-clad grip on his broad shoulders tensed just as your inner muscles clamped onto his fingers, but before you could make sense of anything, he pulled away, leaving you empty and a little disappointed for a reason you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. “So sensitive,” he commented darkly, watching your dazed expression at his torment and withdrawal. Eyes wide open, like a lost deer, dewy lips parted in an ‘o’ of need for something unknown, cheeks flushed from the new delight wrought by his ministrations. He couldn’t help break eye contact when he sucked on his long fingers, your taste making his eyes roll back in his head. “So delicious.”

You felt extremely vulnerable to him in the state of arousal that he had reduced you to, but he was quick to lean in and alleviate your worries.

“Why can’t I resist you,” he whispered the rhetorical question between kisses.

“You can’t?” You asked breathlessly. The thought that someone as perfect as Jin finding you irresistible was unfathomable to you.

The angelic quality of his voice hummed in confirmation. “I want you so much.”

“I want you too, Jin.” You moaned earnestly, squirming underneath him, brushing your body against his in all the right places.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he groaned at your response, moving away to quickly divest himself of the rest of his clothing, then climbed back to envelop your body with his, but not before you saw him in all his naked glory.

Years ago, you and Ji Eun had bribed the scullery maid to spill the details of her sexual encounters with the groom from the stables. Even amidst the hushed squeals and raucous giggles that had ensued when the maid demonstrated the motions of the act using a cucumber to represent the groom’s penis, you had wondered to yourself how something so big could fit inside you.

Now, however… you didn’t think there was a cucumber long enough or fat enough to be compared with Jin’s cock to do it justice. When Jin nudged your legs further apart so he could settle between them, you could feel the tip of his manhood grazing against your dripping entrance, and a sprinkle of trepidation sparked inside your mind. However, it was masked by your lust for him. Just the light pressure of him so close to your delicate center was doing untold things to your mind and body. Any semblance of reasoning and judgement had long left you. Every part of you was screaming for him, the primal side of you calling for him to brand you as his, and only his.

“Are you sure about this?” Jin asked, the query firm and steady even though his quivering hold on your waist and the twitch of his cock behaved differently. “If you want me to stop, I will stop, I swear it.”

You held his face in your hands so you could look into his warm brown eyes, now darkened with lust as you said, “Yes Jin, I’ve never been more sure my entire life. Please make me yours.”

“Thank goodness,” he let out the breath that he had been holding in a stuttering exhale. “This may hurt you a little,” he warned, the regret already showing in his eyes even before he could cause you any pain.

“I know you will make everything all right,” you said with conviction. “I trust you, Jin.”

At your words, he pressed his forehead against yours and breathed in your scent deeply; a tender gesture in a charged moment. “I don’t deserve your trust, but I will try. I promise I will do my best by you.”

Then he pushed himself forward, allowing himself to taste only a fraction of your wet heat before stopping to gauge your reaction. You ran your hands up the expanse of his back, a silent urge for him to continue, and he did. His descent into you was excruciatingly slow, but you didn’t argue. All you could think of was the way he felt inside you, spreading you open to accommodate himself, your muscles stretching impossibly to make room for him. It was difficult for you to register Jin’s loud puffs and his fists clenching the bedsheets in his efforts not to simply plow into you as his body demanded of him.

He stopped again to ask, “How do you feel?”

“Good,” you answered a little hesitantly, more than a little breathlessly. “I just feel so… full.”

He laughed at your answer, breaking the tension. “Y/n, I’m not even halfway there.”

“What?!” Your panic was swallowed by Jin’s mouth, distracting you as he plunged the rest of the way in, sheathing himself completely within you. His breathy groans and your needy moans were mingled together as he paused again, giving you a chance to adjust to his intrusion. The tremors wracking his body finally clued you in on how much he was holding back on his own urges for your sake, and your heart screamed with affection and gratitude for his wordless care for you.

You had never felt so crammed before, the sensation alien to you, but his tenderness and patience granted you time to let the slight pain slowly recede. Experimentally you lifted your legs up to wrap around his waist. A yelp escaped you when this pushed him in even deeper than before, but you pressed harder, wanting more of him, even though he filled you so tightly you were sure that you were going to burst. The initial agony had ebbed away to make way for a thirst for more Jin, and he was more than ready to give it to you. Your delectable whimpers encouraged him to ease into a rhythm that gradually increased in speed and force. You had never felt so incredible before, never even dreamed such a thing was possible, never could have imagined that such pleasure existed.

“Oh my god, Jin, Jin,” you panted between his murmurs of your name, unable to articulate the bewildering, intense pleasure coursing through your veins with every thrust, building and rising within you. You tried to raise your hips to meet his, but you were no match for his ferocious movements. Guttural grunts from the back of his throat accompanied the sharp slaps that sounded every time he pounded you into the mattress, soon joined by your cries as you felt the beginnings of a knot tightening in your belly.

Confusion clouded your mind, unable to make sense of the clashing desires your body was demanding of you. Jin’s thrusts were feeding a fire that was escalating into an inferno you were afraid you could never put out, yet the thought of asking him to stop was not an option either. A sob became lodged in your throat as he continued his onslaught upon your body, your whole being winded up so tightly you were certain that you couldn’t take it a second longer.

“Jin, I can’t,” you pleaded with him, not knowing how to explain, clueless as to what to do, you turned to him for a solution. Your legs were starting to shake, your insides closing in on his length, making him moan at the increased friction and resistance to his strokes.

“Don’t hold back,” he commanded. “Just give in to it. I promise you it will feel good.”

Both your control and your body was stretched to the limit, and you couldn’t possibly take any more, so you heeded his words and let go. A strangled scream escaped your lips as you shattered beneath him, your back arching off the bed with your hips bucking so forcefully that you lifted him up with you. You hardly noticed that Jin had gone still, watching you throw your head back into the pillows, your whole body shaking violently with the force of your orgasm, savouring the sight until the strength of your grip on his cock became too much for him to bear.

His grip on your waist was strong, bruising as he slammed his last few thrusts within your hot, slick depths before pulling out with a roar of your name and emptying himself on your stomach. Still climbing down from your high, you simply watched as bursts of white spurt out of the tip of his cock, feeling an inexplicable pride at being covered with his seed.

After drawing a few quick breaths, he gave you a quick peck on the lips then moved off of you and away from the bed. You were about to protest, wanting – no, needing – him to remain with you, but he quickly returned to your side with a wet cloth. Still panting, he wiped away the remnants of your lovemaking from between your legs and your stomach with care, cleaning you up before gathering you in his arms.

For a while he laid with you on the bed, wordlessly kissing every inch of your face. You couldn’t help but smile, never feeling so loved your entire life, wishing for this moment to last for all eternity. You closed your eyes, basking in the love that Jin showered you with without any reservation.

The next time you opened your eyes, it was due to gentle nudging from Jin. You blinked, feeling a little disoriented, wondering at what point you fell asleep in the comfort of his embrace. It was still dark, but you could see the tenderness in his warm chocolate eyes, mixed with a little sadness. “You should go now before the servants wake and you are missed.”

You sat up in alarm, the fear of being caught pushing you to haul yourself off the bed and pull your clothes back on. Jin was already partially dressed, having pulled his trousers back on, but he was still shirtless and you stared at him for a few moments, unable to tear yourself away from him.

A small smile illuminated his face as he placed an arm around your shoulders and led you to his door, where he turned you to face him. You looked up at him, pulse accelerating again when he leaned down to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss, not dampened at all from the intimacy you’d already shared.

Neither of you wanted to break the contact, but finally he did so, pressing his forehead against yours to make sure you were looking into his eyes when he said, “I love you.”

Before you could respond, however, he had turned you around again, opened the door and pushed you through it. You couldn’t risk knocking on his now closed door again so you made your way back to your chambers, trying to contain your wild euphoria at his parting words that you repeated again and again in your head like a mantra.

He loves me. He loves me.

Wild Bunny on Clouds [5] (M)

So even though I don’t get/remember dreams often, I’ve occasionally been blessed with dreams involving BTS members. Since I am in love with BTS (and my own dreams apparently) I figured, why not write them down? LOL.

Of course these are dreams, half of them don’t make sense, 100% of them start from nowhere and 95% of them end up at the most frustrating times by my alarm playing Jimin’s Lie, but I’m gonna write them down anyway and make you guys laugh at my annoying sleep patterns.


Jungkook x me

Genre: Smut (and crack maybe?).

Warnings: Costume, orgasm denial, rough sex

Word count: 2,552 words

A/N: I had this dream and wrote it way back in May. I think it must have been all the Jungkook requests that made me read a lot of Jungkook fics and pay him extra attention in videos as I want to imagine him when I write that led to this dream.


"Happy Birthday Jeon Jungkook,

Happy Birthday Jeon Jungkook,

Happy Birthday Jeon Jungkook,

May you have a good year~"

Jungkook leaned against the frame of his bedroom door, looking at me with half amusement, half exasperation. "It's already September, there's not much of the year left. Why are you singing a birthday song in 'We Wish You A Merry Christmas' tune?"

I giggled and shrugged. "I just felt like it."

He hummed thoughtfully, then cleared his throat. His expression had turned darker, his brown eyes blown almost black with lust. "And why are you wearing that?"

Wondering what he was on about now, I peered downwards at myself. White stilettos covered the ends of sexy fishnet stockings that snaked up my legs, the other ends of the stockings held up by a garter attached to a corset. The white corset hugged my figure perfectly, accentuating my curves and pushing my larger-than-average breasts, usually hidden by loose shirts, into the spotlight. I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, brushing against the band of the white rabbit ears I had donned on my head. "I just want to dress as a cute bunny."

He pushed himself off the edge of the door with his elbow to slide his hand from my waist to the small of my back, making me squeal as he pressed me against him. He lowered his head to my shoulder, inhaling deeply to smell the vanilla perfume I had sprayed on myself earlier. His lips were dangerously close to my neck. They didn't make any real contact yet I could feel goosebumps forming on my skin. His breath caused shivers to run up from the bottom of my spine to the roots of my hair as he made his way from the crook of my neck to the shell of my ear and whispered, "Not like that you're not."

"Wh-what do you mean?" I stammered into his shoulder as his fingers moved slowly up and down my back.

Without warning, Jungkook nipped my earlobe, causing me to jump even closer to him if that was possible and my hands, previously simply placed on his chest, to curl into fists in his white shirt. "Do you realise how gorgeously sexy you look right now?" He growled, and all too sudden I became painfully aware of his erection pressing into my stomach.

"I… I – I… Ah -" The denial on the tip of my tongue was quickly halted when his fingers skimmed over the top of my breasts that were admittedly almost popping out of the corset. Jungkook didn't seem to care in the least. He was too fixated in watching my chest heave laboriously under his intense stare, the almost non-existent distance between us giving him the perfect vantage point over my cleavage. The fact that the lingerie pushed my breasts together so that there was no gap between them was something he obviously appreciated.

Suddenly, his right hand slipped past the cloth to cup my left breast, swiftly finding his target and flicking his thumb over the nipple. The look on his face was smug as he asked, "No?" at the moan that I emitted as I felt the sensitive peak harden under his touch.

"N – no," I echoed, but I had no idea what I was agreeing to, a fact that he seemed to be aware of as well, if his low chuckle was any indication. At the back of my mind, I managed to wonder: If I'm the one who is wearing this scandalous outfit, aren't I doing the seducing? Why am I letting him have the control instead? This voice didn't manage to make itself heard long enough to be considered though. In fact, it completely disappeared when he brought his other hand to my cheek to keep me still as he dipped his head.

The kiss wasn't slow or romantic. His lips moved against mine in a ravenous, almost frantic pattern. A sign that he was just as affected as I was, even though he did a better job of hiding it. Fire instantly erupted at the contact, burning ever higher when my own arms slid up his toned chest to lace my fingers behind his neck, attempting to bring him even closer to me. My hips rocked against him, desperate for some relief.

Jungkook either didn't appreciate the friction against the hard bulge straining against his pants or maybe he enjoyed it too much, because the palm he had over my breast squeezed so hard it made me yelp and break the kiss. Snarling, he turned me around and marched me backwards until we reached the edge of his bed. A gasp flew from my mouth when he pushed me down onto the mattress and followed right after.

His breaths were laboured as was mine despite the fact that we haven't done much else beyond kissing. "You know your breasts drive me crazy," he growled but his gaze was focused on my blushing face. I was sure that my eyes were darkened with lust just as his were. The moment was charged, his weight that he allowed to rest on me was delicious, every inch where our bodies touched smoldered in barely contained fire. He broke the gaze to lean down into a kiss that stoked the flames even higher. The way he moved was hungry, almost desperate but he didn't stay there. His lips moved to leave a blazing trail down the column of my neck, along my clavicle all the way to the top of my chest, where he stopped to nibble and suck hard at the tender flesh.

I was powerless to do anything but mewl as I peered down at the swirl of brown hair on his head as he left his mark on me. Even when he propped himself up on his elbows to admire his work, I couldn't complain – it seemed as if he had sucked all the air from my lungs when he had latched his lips onto my chest. Satisfied that he had formed a bruise, he placed his hands on my shoulders and gently pulled me up to sit on the edge of the bed before they flew to undo his jeans, pulling his underwear down with it to reveal his rock-hard cock. It looked ready to go, the head an angry red and leaking precum.

Without him touching me directly, what was left of my grey matter sputtered back to life. The sassy part of my brain must have chosen to stir first because I smirked and asked, "What do you expect me to do with that, birthday boy?"

The leer on his face let me know that my attitude wasn't bothering him at all. "You can pretend it's a carrot stick, little bunny," he answered as he grabbed his shaft with his fingers and shook it slowly.

The ridiculous remark made me snort derisively but that was all that I managed to do because he shut me down again by tugging on the tight corset so that my breasts popped out of the cups. A blush coloured my cheeks at the harsh, dominating move and the possessive expression that crossed Jungkook's features as he enjoyed the sight. His thumb brushed against the mark he had made proudly before he moved closer and pressed my breasts together to envelop his throbbing erection.

I got his intentions at once and replaced his hands on the sides of my chest with my own so he could grab my shoulders as leverage as he pumped himself between the soft pillows of my breasts. Tilting my head upwards, I smiled at the exultant look on his face that I had understood what he wanted and was obligingly giving it to him. However, when I bent down to lick the seeping liquid from the tip of his cock, he threw his head back and groaned. "God, you're incredible," he said in a voice so low on the register that it sounded nothing like the Jungkook I knew and it made my head spin. His compliment was acknowledged with a hum so soft that I wasn't sure that he heard it, but it didn't take long for him to notice that I was rubbing my legs together, the need for some relief driving me up the wall.

Apparently it wasn't a gesture that he liked to see. "Don't do that," he grunted, "if anyone's going to pleasure you it's going to be me." The last word was emphasised by a hard thrust before he withdrew himself from my chest and picked me up as if I weighed no more than a feather to position me on my hands and knees on the bed, facing away from him.

"Jungkook, what are you doing?!" I cried in indignation at being tossed around like a rag doll.

"Just enjoying my birthday present," he replied flippantly.

There was nothing more I wanted to say than the fact that the birthday song was all that I had planned to give him for his birthday. However, my protests died before they even reached my throat when he tugged on the bob tail I had fastened on the lingerie at the small of my back with a chuckle, then proceeded to run his large hand down to my ass cheek and slap it. The resounding crack was followed by a starving groan from Jungkook and a shocked cry from myself.

Expecting more sharp blows to rain from his calloused hand, I closed my eyes and braced myself, ignoring the surge of liquid staining my thongs that was a result from his stinging slap, but no more came. Twisting my neck in curiosity I saw him kneel at the foot of the bed. The grin that he cocked when he caught my eye was wicked and was explained when he pushed my underwear to the side and seized my waist to drag me towards his mouth. It turned out that I could not resist his warm mouth on me any more than he could stay away from the lure of my voluptuous form.

"Jungkook!" I yelped, feeling my walls clench around nothing the second his mouth locked onto my wet pussy. His flattened tongue licked strips over and over my drenched entrance before deciding to latch onto my clit and let his fingers take over. My moans immediately filled the room accompanied by the squelching sound of his two fingers pumping quickly into my depths. Ideally I wanted to show some self-restraint but I was not in my right mind, so I bucked my hips towards him without a care in the world. He knew just how to get me riled up, his lips forming a suction on my sensitive nub brought me towards the edge in no time flat. My moans were growing in volume and my legs trembled as I approached the peak, I was so close –

He had cruelly detached himself from me just before I got my release. Lifting my cheek up from the sheets, I whipped my head around to give him a taste of my wrath upon him for denying me my orgasm, but Jungkook was already on his feet, pulling my thongs down to the top of my stockings and positioning himself. A high-pitched scream escaped from my mouth, followed by pained whimpers with tears brimming behind closed eyelids upon the vicious entry of his cock into me. Although I was so wet that I could feel my juices dripping down my thighs, Jungkook was no skinny carrot stick, no matter what he proclaimed, and the rough shove that embedded his full length inside me in one go made stars flash in front of my eyes.

"Stop it," Jungkook groaned, but I continued flexing, sobbing even though I knew what he meant. My inner muscles clamped and released his cock repeatedly, my hips grinding against his, not out of desperation but due to the need to find some relief from the pain, trying to quickly adjust to the sudden invasion. "Stop it, you're going to make me come," he said again.

"Well, what did you expect, when you did that?" My question was both angry and rhetorical. "It hurts!" I was furious but my words came out broken, which was what alerted him that he had been too rough on me. Bending down, he covered my body with his so he could kiss away the tears on my cheeks, whispering soft apologies that contrasted with the powerful grip that he had on my waist as he tried to hold himself back from moving. The tender gestures calmed me down faster than I would have thought possible and soon I was purring contentedly, the agony having dulled into pleasure so that I gave him permission to proceed.

He left my shoulder to stand up and oblige, but his movements were so slow that it had me sighing in frustration. I knew he was worried about being too violent earlier but I was fine and it seemed that he was either one extreme or the other today. "Jungkook, would you please move? I'm fine." To prove my point, I pushed myself back onto his hips, moaning when the sharp movement gave me the friction I craved.

Jungkook cursed under his breath, but that was all the persuasion he needed to relinquish the taut control he had over himself. Tightening his hold on my waist to keep me still, he started pounding into me in earnest. The sounds that my pussy made every time his cock slammed into me was lewd but the pleasure it wrought was so, so good that neither of us cared. In fact, it only spurred us on, making him ram harder and faster and pushing me to the brink of another orgasm.

I felt a knot growing tighter and tighter within me with every thrust of Jungkook's hard length, but I couldn't warn him in time. However, he could sense my impending orgasm without being told in words. As soon as my legs started to quake and he felt my channel narrowing further onto his cock, his pounding hastened in speed and doubled in force. They became almost brutal, seemingly intent on fucking me into the mattress. My release came unbidden, the scream of pure unadulterated pleasure muffled into the bed, the sheets bundled into fists on each side of my face.

The sight of me on all fours, still donning the risqué lingerie that I wore for him, back arched as I reached the height of ecstasy, body shaking and insides clamping on him brought him to his peak as well. My name fell from his lips continuously like a mantra as he pushed his last few thrusts before plunging all the way in, spilling his warm seed deep inside me.

Before he lost his strength completely, he wrapped his arm around my waist to collapse on the bed. Although he had just claimed me in the most primal way possible, he still held me possessively, pressing my back against his chest. I didn't mind in the least. His warmth was comforting and my eyes were fluttering shut from exhaustion. I barely registered him kissing my bare shoulder but when he shyly whispered, "I love you," into my ear, I snapped to attention immediately.


More boring A/N: So this series were supposed to consist of drabbles but I couldn't help including every detail I could remember. Haha sorry not very sorry about that!

The Price to Rise: Epilogue [Jimin | Prince Eric]

The Price to Rise [Jimin | Prince Eric]

Word count: 1,346 words

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Disney AU, fluff, angst

Prologue | Jimin | Jungkook | Seokjin | Yoongi | Taehyung | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin (The choice: Part 2) | Epilogue


What the hell?

You are having a hard time believing your eyes. Just one moment ago you were tightly wrapped in Jimin’s arms, blissfully kissing his soft lips, happily celebrating your victory against the Sea Witch and the success of holding up your end of the contract. You have fulfilled your end of the bargain, regained your voice and was all set to live a happily ever after with the man you have fallen head over heels in love with. But now…

Swiveling your head around to take in your surroundings, you feel your heart plummet to your feet. No Jimin. No Bang Sihyuk. Not even your coworkers. You are alone. Rows of desks and partitions greet your eyes, the empty office mostly dark save the light from your cubicle and the glow of the streetlights outside streaming into the deserted space. The monitor of the laptop placed on your table no longer shows the blue error screen, only translucent bubbles of the screensaver bouncing lightly against the edges, calm and happy-looking, in direct contrast to the myriad of troubled and fearful thoughts running through your head.

Just as you started your first journey in Prince Jimin’s world, you are now sitting in a chair, but this time it is your office chair; comfortable, ergonomic, grey and good for your back. Normal. Ordinary. Boring. A sharp reminder that your real life is nothing like the adventures you’ve just had.

Even as you reach your hand out, you can see it trembling visibly, but you ignore it to wiggle the mouse on its pad, causing the bubbles to disappear as the screensaver is deactivated. Like sea foam dissolving into the ocean, you think before you can stop yourself. By some miracle, the laptop has been revived from the dead, and the process of data saving has been completed. Your eyes flick down to the lower left corner of the monitor, and jolt when you see the time.

It is twelve a.m. Midnight. Although it seems ages ago, you clearly remember panicking when you saw that the time was forty past twelve, and you were late to go and meet your friend for drinks. Did I go back in time? You think for a second, but decide not to dwell on it, like other things. Carefully you switch off the computer, making sure to throw the cup of cold coffee the most evil thing you know of in this world and slip into your jacket before turning off the light and heading to the lifts.

Part of you were expecting the white door that your fairy godmother had conjured out of thin air, as he said, by magic, to be there, but no, only a leafy plant that you don’t know the name of sitting in a white vase in the corner. You sigh as you glimpse yourself in the reflective surface of the lift doors. The clothes that you are wearing matches the life you lead here; drab, uninteresting. You miss the various clothes you wore in those dimensions you travelled in the different dresses in many beautiful colours and styles  even the uniform you wore as a soldier in Namjoon’s world is better; more energetic and exciting.

Unconsciously you bring up your hand to touch your face gingerly. Your skin sports a deathly pallor of unhealthy, mostly indoors lifestyle, and the bags under your eyes are deep, dark and hideous, a mark of overwork. However, when you look closer between your troubled brows, you see a change in your eyes. Before they were dull and lifeless, but now they hold a sparkle of vitality and exhilaration. Maybe it’s because I’ve felt more happiness than I have before… you start to think, or it’s probably just my imagination, you conclude with a shake of your head as the elevator arrives with a ding.

Luckily for you, flagging a taxi down is much easier than you have expected. The driver grunts moodily to acknowledge the name of the bar you give him, so you take that as a signal not to chat him up as he drives you to your destination.

Left to your own devices, your thoughts inevitably wander to recent events again, even though you have told yourself not to do so. Bang Sihyuk, your fairy godmother who has given you this gift. You are not even sure if it is a good present, or a painful one. Both you suppose. All the people you have met in those many worlds you have visited. The trials and tribulations that awaited for you in each. The joy and sadness you have felt. Especially the happiness you had with Jimin. Or thought you had, anyway. You wonder if the real mermaid is back in her body now – if she is living the blissful life you have earned with him. Tears fill your eyes as you try to come to terms with the fact that you will never see the man that you love again. The only man you have ever loved.

Maybe it’s all just a dream, you say to yourself in a fruitless attempt to get into better spirits. However, deep down you will always know that those were not dreams. No mere dream can make you feel the way you did, they way you do right now. Yet you keep telling yourself that it was all an illusion as you pay the driver, step out of the taxi and into the bar.

Loud music immediately assaults your ears as you make your way across the room. You can see your friend swaying on her stool at the bar. No wonder she wasn’t picking up her phone. You raise your voice to order a drink, making sure the bartender, who has his back to you, doesn’t miss it, then you turn to look at your friend.

“How are you going to find me someone when you’re already like this?” You admonish with a grin.

“Y/n! Finally you’re here. I didn’t think you were going to make it,” she exclaims, words slurred together in a drunk stupor.

“Sorry, I know I’m a little late.”

“‘S no matter,” she reassures you. “Did you finish your work?”

“Yeah, thank goodness. I thought I was going to die at the office doing that stupid thing.” Your sigh is part relief and part frustration at your current condition.

“Sounds like you need a nice, long break. Be a part of my world, where things are relaxed and fun,” the playful words uttered in the soft voice of the bartender greets you with your drink order. You look up from the glass to his face and gasp.

It is him. Dark hair that has been styled effortlessly, eyes that crinkle into crescent moons from the force of his smile, strong arms showcased by him rolling the sleeves of his white shirt back. But mostly the lips. The lips. Plump and dewy, and as you know from experience, soft and gentle when they press onto yours. It really is him.

If your stare is making him uncomfortable, he hides it well, his smile unfaltering. After a few flabbergasted moments, in the corner of your eyes you catch the unmistakeable figure of Bang Sihyuk in the reflection of the glass behind the bartender. When he sees you looking at him, he grins and winks. Turning your head so fast you almost get whiplash, you look behind you, but there is no one there save the patrons of the bar. No fairy godmother.

After craning your neck to look at the faces of every customer and workers, you have no choice but to admit that you were just seeing things. When you turn back to the counter, you find that the bartender is still watching you, looking a little amused by your antics.

“Are you okay?” He asks in a cheerful tone.

“Yes, I’m fine…” you say, unsure of how to begin. “I – y-you – you are…”

“My name is Jimin,” he says with another smile that makes your heart leap with excitement. “Nice to meet you.”

Moving On

Genre: Fluff and light angst

Word count: 1,983 words


Stepping out of the shower, I let out a tired, relieved exhale as I rubbed my hair with a towel, making it damper with every rub against the wet strands of my hair. A ringing sound came from the laptop I had propped on the table of my hotel room. Looking at the screen, I saw Selia’s profile photo displayed on the center.

I slipped a shirt over my head before answering the call. Selia’ face popped in the window, smiling at me as I took a seat in the chair to face her.

“Hey Gabriel, how’s Japan?”

I shrugged. “Not bad, considering we hardly go out. Do you know that Chris was swarmed by fans when he went out to get takoyaki the other day?”

“Is there ever a trip that he managed not to get mobbed by fans?” Selia’s rhetorical question, coupled with an eye roll made me laugh.

After entertaining her with more details of my journey with the band, mostly consisting of concerts and shows, I reversed the question back at her. “What about you, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine, and business is great! Oh, also, David visited today,” her lips pursed when she remembered the incident. “He said my restaurant looked drab and needed a makeover.”

Selia’s stories were nothing unusual, but it did make me a little homesick. We had been on tour for months and it had been a while since I came back to Italy. The life of a celebrity was great for the most part, but I missed ordinary. Still, I enjoyed the tales she told me of herself and our mutual friends.

“Anyway… did you hear? Another guy asked Rainie out yesterday.” Selia tried to sound casual, but I could tell that she had been dying to bring this up. I wondered if this was the actual reason for her call.

“Ah. So, what did she say?” I said, attempting to make my voice stable and unaffected, but as usual, my heart beat louder in my chest, as it did whenever this happened.

“She said no, but that’s not the point,” Selia said crossly, giving up all pretense of casually bringing me a piece of news so she could berate me. “When are you going to ask her out? Do you really want a repeat of Charles you hiding your feelings and suffering on your own while she’s in a relationship with another guy?”

“I don’t want to be the rebound guy,” I mumbled, although I knew by now it was a stale, sad excuse.

So did Selia, as evidenced by her loud snort. “It has been a year, Gabriel. Trust me, she’s had a lot of time getting over Charles. You won’t be the rebound guy. I’ve told you this a million times.”

For someone who had said this a million times, she did not sound bored of it at all. In fact, she was as adamant as always, even if more than slightly exasperated. “I’ll think about it,” I replied, as usual. Before she could prolong the conversation along these lines, I told her that I was tired and quickly ended the call. I wasn’t lying, either. I really was exhausted, and I would think about it.

Actually, I’d been thinking about telling Rainie what I felt for a long time now. As time passed, the thought of being her rebound guy grew less and less likely, but my fear remained. I was deathly scared that she would reject me, and I would end up ruining our friendship. She was so important to me that I’d almost rather remain friends than risk jeopardising what we had now. Almost.


“Do you even have to ask?” Nicola said indignantly, banging his hand on the counter so violently that his cup of tea rattled in the saucer. “It will be tuna season then. Of course I would be able to supply you with them. I’ll send you so much tuna your freezers won’t be able to hold anything else!”

“Ah no, no, that much isn’t necessary,” I tried to placate Nicola, who supplied me with seafood, not expecting him to react so strongly when I only asked him to send some tuna my way when the season for catching them rolled around.

Fortunately, my flaxen-haired saviour sauntered right through the door of the restaurant just then, saving me from Nicola’s inexplicable discontentment. I waved at him cheerfully, distracting Nicola and making him turn to face the newcomer.

“Gabriel! When did you arrive?” I knew better than to scold him for turning up unannounced by now. He rarely told me of his return, preferring to surprise me so I didn’t have time to prepare anything nice for him. After a while I stopped letting it bother me and just learnt to enjoy his sporadic visits.

“Last night,” he answered, patting Nicola on the back then taking a seat at the counter. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“Nah, we’re done here,” Nicola said, hopping off his stool. But before exiting, he turned back and asked me, “do you where David is? I heard he came back to town yesterday.”

“I think he’s in his office,” I answered as I prepared an espresso for Gabriel. “Why?”

“Ah, you know… I’m pretty sure I need Elena to do something for me around there,” he said with a mischevious grin, then pushed open the door so he could run off, no doubt to rope his sister into bumping into David somehow.

I chuckled at the thought while Gabriel raised an eyebrow, clearly not comprehending the situation. “Nicola is trying to get David to hook up with his sister,” I explained amidst giggles.

Our David?” Gabriel asked incredulously, having a hard time believing that the sophisticated, fussy David we knew would fall for a happy-go-lucky girl with simple taste like Elena.

“Yeah,” I nodded with a smile. “From what I’ve seen, they seem to be really into each other. I don’t know why David hasn’t asked her out yet. He really should before someone beats him to the chase.”

Surprisingly, instead of looking happy at the possibility of two of our friends going out with each other, the news had Gabriel squaring his jaw and looking thoughtful. “Is there something wrong?” It was worrisome to see him grim and frowning like this, I could not help but ask.

“No, everything is fine,” he dismissed me with a wave of his hand. A few moments of silence passed while he stared at the door Nicola had passed through and I tried to figure out the reason he was looking so pensive. Then he turned around to face me, a determined expression on his face.

“Can I steal you away for a bit?”

“Huh?” I said, startled by his sudden question. “Uh, sure. I’ll just tell Marco I’m going out for a while.”

 That was how, ten minutes later, I was spending the afternoon taking a walk with Gabriel. At first I expected him to tell me what he dragged me out for, or say something, anything, really, but he hardly a word came out of his mouth, so we just quietly strolled mindlessly, enjoying the sights of the Venice afternoon. After the first thirty minutes, I stopped keeping track, but in the end, I couldn’t control myself from asking, “So, what’s up?”

Gabriel coughed, seemingly surprised even though he knew at some point he’d need to tell me the reason he dragged me out. I allowed him a few moments to hurriedly gather his thoughts, but when he opened his mouth again, he only said, “I thought we could go grab a bite to eat.”

“You brought me away from a restaurant to ask me to grab a bite to eat?” I asked incredulously, a little frustrated, but still mostly amused. It was endearing to see him flustered.

“Ah, no, I meant a bite of – of – gelato!”

Laughing, I let him steer me to the nearest cafe. Nowadays it was easier to become flustered around him, so most of the time I found it easier to go along with whatever he suggested rather than argue with him. It was all Selia’s fault that I always got tongue tied around him. Ever since she planted the idea in my head – just a few months after I broke up with Charles, actually – I found it impossible to imagine Gabriel as just a friend.

She didn’t even need to say much, just suggest that I went out with him, but that was enough. It was like  my eyes were opened to a new possibility where Gabriel and I weren’t just friends, but much, much more. And I found myself falling in love with the idea more and more every day. Found myself falling for him more and more with every message, every call, every visit. A part of me wondered how I could not have realised it before. Then I thought about it and knew that I had always loved him. Loved his smile. His laughter. His cheerful attitude. His gentleness. Everything about him, previously thought of just qualities of a great man, now something that I yearned to keep with me forever.

However, it was no use telling him about my feelings. Even though we were friends, I was painfully aware how out of reach he was. Gabriel was a celebrity. An idol, with legions of fans, many who were surely prettier than I was. More talented. More attractive. Just better and more deserving of him. There was no point in confessing to him when there was no way he felt the same about me. It’s best if I kept quiet and not make things awkward.

I couldn’t help stealing sideways glances at him as we walked with gelato in hand, though. Why was he looking so nervous? He obviously had something to say, but I couldn’t think of anything he wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing with me. The curiousity was killing me, but I strived to keep calm and wait until he was ready to open up and talk.

Finally, after taking a first bite of his cone, Gabriel asked, “Do you think friends can be… more than that?”

“You mean become a couple?” Thinking about David and Elena, and how nice it would be if they did get together, I said, “Yeah, I don’t see why not.”

Gabriel took another bite of his gelato, taking the time to swirl the sweet treat in his mouth so he could think of his next words. “Hmm… Selia told me that you rejected quite a few guys. Not up to dating again?”

At that question, I shrugged. Initially it was because I wasn’t ready after breaking up with Charles, but not long after that, it really was because I couldn’t imagine with anyone else but Gabriel. As stupid as that made me feel, I couldn’t help it. But I couldn’t tell him that. “Just not the right person, I guess.”

“How do you know if it’s the right person or not?”

I already know who the right person is. “Sometimes you can tell,” was all I allowed myself to say out loud.

“What about the times you’re not sure, would you give him the chance?”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s only fair.”

“Do you think… I’m the right person?”

His sudden question stopped me in my tracks. Dripping dessert forgotten as I tried not to read too much into it. “What do you mean?”

The nervous shuffling of his feet went completely unnoticed by me in my utter surprise, only hanging on to his every word. “I mean… would you go out with me?”

“Are you for real?” I asked, my voice raising an octave from excitement and disbelief, even after he nodded his head yes. “M-me? You want to date me?”

“I’ve been in love with you for God knows how long, so yes, you.”


A/N: Finally this series is coming to a close! A sweet epilogue coming up after this chapter!

Race Against Time: Chapter 4

Jungkook feat. Reader and the rest of BTS

Genre: Angst, Thriller, Darkfic

Warning: This fic is about murder cases, and may include some graphic imagery. Please read with caution.

Word Count: 3,274 words

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5


“Do you think they’ve been killed?”

Maintaining a calm and unaffected exterior is exceptionally difficult, especially when a panicked boyfriend of a missing student is frantically trying to get answers out of him. Answers that Jungkook doesn’t have. Until Taehyung, an undergraduate student from Burghley University barged into the department early that moaning, demanding to see the agent in charge of the murder cases, they weren’t even aware that more girls have gone missing.

“Calm down and tell me everything you know,” Jungkook says instead of answering his question. “Why do you say that your girlfriend is missing?”

“I was supposed to meet her at the bar last night,” Taehyung starts, collapsing into a chair that Jungkook gestures for him to sit in. “But I got there late. Like, really late. I kind of dozed off. I didn’t mean to, it’s just that I had soccer practice in the afternoon, and I was pooped, you know?” At Jungkook’s understanding nod, he continues, “when I got there, she was already gone. There were tons of missed calls, and she left a message that she was going home with her best friend – that’ll be Linda, they’re attached at the hips, I swear, you wouldn’t even know that I’m her boyfriend sometimes – anyway, since she didn’t answer any of my calls, I thought she was mad at me, so I came around to her dormitory to apologise.”

“Then her roommates told me that they haven’t returned. They were starting to get worried too. It’s not like Dinah and Linda to stay out all night. We can’t reach either of them. That’s when I thought, what if…” he trails off helplessly. At this point of his story, Taehyung hangs his head and Jungkook’s heart immediately goes out to him. It’s obvious that the young man feels guilty about his tardiness playing a part in the disappearance of his girlfriend.

Jungkook isn’t feeling much better about this himself. Two girls in an inebriated state leaving a bar then not turning up is extremely worrisome, considering the similar circumstances that surround the girls who have been previously kidnapped and killed by their serial killer. He is at a loss about what to tell Taehyung though, as he has no information on the missing girls himself, but before the distressed student can ask him again, they are interrupted by a call for him.

It’s one of those situations where he feels both relief and dread at the same time. The call provides a temporary escape from the worried man’s questions, but considering the matter that he brought up, Jungkook’s reprieve will probably provide the answer in the form of a news he doesn’t want to hear.

Sure enough, less than an hour later, Jungkook, sandwiched between Jin and Namjoon, are making their way from the parking lot of the high school not far from his office to the school field. Memories from his own time in this place make Jungkook frown. It isn’t that he didn’t enjoy his high school days, but a sense of familiarity is creeping up on him. Perhaps it’s just the location where so many sweet and bitter memories were made that is making him feel uneasy about it being marred by the presence of a dead body.

The only upside to this is that he managed to leave Taehyung behind at the bureau. If you can call that an upside, Jungkook thinks to himself sourly. A scowl threatens to tug between his eyebrows when he sees a number of people he doesn’t recognise milling around on the school field. They approach a flustered-looking officer, who explains the situation to them.

“The school principal and some of the teachers,” the officer gestures to a group of men and women surrounding another officer a few paces away, some of them clearly gawking at the body sprawled on the ground. “We had a hard time shooing the students away earlier – even some teachers wanted to stay and watch, they weren’t much help.”

Jungkook’s brown eyes flick up to the three-story building facing the field. A number of faces peering down at them puts him in an even fouler mood than before. “What do people think this is, a circus?” He mumbles as he makes his way towards the dead girl with Namjoon and Jin following behind him.

A quick examination of the immobile form on the yellowish, trampled grass of the field is enough for Namjoon to confirm that it is indeed the work of their killer. Certainly the usual trademarks are easily seen; the clean yet cruel slash across the pale girl’s throat, the simple shirt and shorts that she’s wearing, the absence of shoes and another pair of earrings decorating her earlobes, but it’s always necessary to make sure.

Again, the victim’s hand is the source of one of the clues. Her right hand is wrapped around a pine cone. After checking with Namjoon that Hoseok is on his way to the crime scene, Jungkook bags the evidence and turns towards the jewelry that the victim is sporting. He won’t lie and say that they are not the first details that caught his attention, especially when it is obvious that they are horribly mismatched.

The long, silver chain that circles her lacerated neck holds a small vial of dark red liquid. It’s obviously something that has been left for them. Carefully unclasping the necklace, he hands it to Jin. “What does that look like to you?”

The miniature glass bottle painted almost vermillion by the liquid glints in the morning light menacingly as Jin examines it between his gloved fingers. “It’s blood,” he confirms. “However, since it’s supposed to lead us to the next girl, I highly doubt it’s hers.” He nods his head to their latest deceased and Jungkook acknowledges his point with a nod of his own.

“Can you tell whose blood it is?”

Jin cocks his head to the side in thought. “To be honest, I think the question you should be asking is what blood this is, not whose.” With that, he drops the necklace into a clear bag and seals it. “And the answer is; it is possible with the Uhlenhuth test. I’ll be able to determine the species this blood sample belongs to. If it does belong to a human, to specify exactly whose it is would take more time, which is why I doubt that we’ll have to even do so.”

The zoologist makes a good point; by now they know that the killer means for them to solve these clues quickly, so Jungkook doesn’t argue. Instead, he addresses the earrings lacing her earlobes. “What do you make of these?”

Namjoon shrugs, having nothing to contribute, while Jin only says, “Fancy. Is that one pair of earrings or two?”

“It’s one pair,” Jungkook gently flips the flesh with his index finger to show the two men the two pierced holes in one of her earlobes. “See, it’s a chain that enters one hole, then is looped and inserted into the second hole.” Craning their necks to get a good angle, Namjoon and Jin let out soft oohs upon seeing the way the thin chain of the earring is looped into the holes in each ear. “Y/n has a pair just like this one. But that’s not the point. Just look at the necklace. They don’t go together.”

Sure enough, even if they don’t take the leaf motifs dangling at the end of the earrings into account, they are clearly made of gold, whereas the necklace is decidedly silver in colour. “The question is, do these earrings belong to the girl, or did the killer plant it there?” It is really more of a rhetorical question, as Jungkook knows that neither Namjoon nor Jin knows more than he does. However, he lets the thought hang in the air for a few seconds before asking, “That makes two. What are we missing? Was her purse around when she was found?”

He is swiftly presented with a large, light brown handbag by the unnerved officer that greeted him earlier. As he has expected, there is no ID to be found. However, there is something else that is clearly out of place in a young woman’s bag, bulky as it is; a large, sharp hook. Before he can show it to the others, a panting Hoseok runs up to them, and the cone they found on the dead woman is thrust into his hands.

While waiting for the botanist to catch his breath, Jungkook holds up the hook for them to see. “Doubt this belongs to her.”

“I know that people are worried that a serial killer’s on the loose, but someone should tell her that a pepper spray would do the trick,” Jin guffaws, then chokes on his laughter at Jungkook’s stern look. “Ahem. That looks like a dressing hook,” he amends, trying to sound as sober as possible between his coughs.

“A dressing hook?”

“Yeah. These dressing hooks are used to suspend animals that have been slaughtered so they don’t touch the floor. This one looks like it can be attached to a roller, but this part must be stainless steel –”

“So this second girl is in a slaughterhouse?” It looks like Jin will prattle on if he isn’t stopped, so Jungkook takes it upon himself to interrupt him before he gets off topic. “Isn’t that a little too simple?”

“It is…” Jin’s handsome features distort into a frown as he thinks about Jungkook’s comment. “But this definitely belongs in a slaughterhouse. There’s hardly any around the city, but that’s good, isn’t it?”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Hoseok cuts in. “While I want to find the second girl just as much as everyone here, I have to tell you, this didn’t come from anywhere around here.” He indicates the egg-shaped cone in the bag that he’s holding to clarify what he is referring to. Without waiting to be asked, he launches into an explanation. “This is a pine cone from Pinus radiata, also known as Monterey pine, or radiata pine. It is cultivated in certain places, but not here in the city.”

“Where can you find them then?” Namjoon asks his friend before Jungkook can demand for the answer himself.

“All over the county, but only in rural areas,” Hoseok declares, and under Jungkook’s orders, quickly sits with Jin over a laptop to cross-check the existence of the trees in the vicinity of abattoirs.

“Where’s Yoongi?” Namjoon questions Jungkook as they watch the two experts urgently discuss the map on the computer screen. The agent grunts grumpily at the doctor’s inquiry. He has been trying to reach Yoongi ever since he received the news earlier this morning, but every call has gone into the post-doctorate’s voicemail. “I couldn’t reach him.”

“What about y/n, don’t they go to the same university?”

“She didn’t answer either. Probably still asleep.” Jungkook feels sorry towards you, knowing that you had burnt the midnight oil to write a paper and planned to sleep in this morning but you’ll understand. So he fishes his phone out of his pocket and when he’s directed to Yoongi’s voicemail again, he hangs up and dials your number instead.

“Kookie?” Your groggy voice greeting him when you answer the phone tells him that he did disturb your sleep.

“I’m sorry for waking you up, baby, but this is important. Do you know where Yoongi is? I tried calling him but it keeps going to voicemail.”

He can hear the bed sheets shuffle from your end as you rouse yourself up at his tone. At this point you don’t even need to ask him what he needs Yoongi for. “He must have stayed at the lab overnight and didn’t charge his phone,” you say briskly, completely awake now. Soft, distant bangs of the closet transmits through the phone and Jungkook assumes that you’re changing into fresh clothes. “I’ll drive to the university and find him now.”

“Great. I’ll let you know where to find us. If we can ever figure out where we’re going.” Jin, who is listening in on the conversation, lifts his hand up in the universal language to wait just a little more. On the other hand, Hoseok is too absorbed in the map to focus on anything else.

“Sorry, baby,” Jungkook apologises again, and after you assure him that it’s fine and wish him good luck, he hangs up. Just then Hoseok beckons for him to come closer, pointing at the marked red squares on the monitor.

“I don’t know what animal we’re looking for, so there are quite a few slaughterhouses to check out,” the botany expert explains the numerous red spots on the screen, and Jungkook bites back a curse. The closest one has to be an hour’s drive away from their current location.

“Let’s get moving,” Jungkook quickly doles out commands to the search teams, mostly ready and waiting, their response now getting faster as they gain more experience with each case. There’s no time to wait for Yoongi. Besides, the last evidence; the necklace with the blood vial, is going with Jin to the lab, so they can proceed without the pedologist.

As Jungkook presses his foot on the accelerator pedal of the car harder than necessary, speeding towards one of the nearest destinations, he mentally compares the dead girl they have just left to the photo Taehyung has shown him earlier. A proper identification still needs to be done, but she is definitely Linda, who is best friends with Taehyung’s girlfriend. Jungkook’s heart grows heavier, knowing that this means that the girl they are now looking for is most likely Dinah, the girl Taehyung didn’t manage to meet up with last night.

Hoseok points out the first Monterey pine that they come across, describing the features of the tall tree; the needle-like leaves growing in threes, thin and blunt at the tips, the long, brown cones attached to the branches at oblique angles, and the dark grey bark. Jungkook quietly stores away the information should he need it in the future, but he is more driven to find the second missing girl. The search teams move from slaughterhouse to slaughterhouse, most of them medium in size, but some large, and all of them empty. As Jin has informed them before they parted ways, slaughtering of animals is usually done in autumn or early winter, so that large quantities of meat can be preserved more easily.

Precious minutes pass into an hour, then two, each making Jungkook more anxious. His phone is clutched tightly in his hand, desperate for a call from Jin, but is quickly forgotten in the frantic search until it finally rings.

“Hello?” Jungkook picks up the call, but he can hardly make out the reply due to the horrible cell phone signal in the rural area they are presently in.

“Tried to… can’t reach you… the blood…” The voice is a garbled version of Jin’s normally melodic tone.

“What?” Jungkook raises his voice, although that hardly helps the bad connection.

“… pig! PIG!” The older man shouts the most vital information through the phone, and Jungkook runs to find Hoseok immediately.

“It’s pig’s blood,” Jungkook relays the detail to Hoseok, who pulls up three addresses at once.

“They’re not very far from here,” he says, and Jungkook thanks his lucky stars, even though it may be premature as he ropes in the botanist with him to head to the furthest pig abattoir. The other two teams are investigating the other places Hoseok has listed. Jungkook supposes that ‘not very far’ is relative, since it takes them twenty minutes to reach the building, which is small in comparison to the previous slaughterhouses.

As with the other abattoirs, this one is empty except for the equipment and tools stored for when the place is used to butcher pigs. Jungkook walks across the enormous room next to Hoseok, passing the overhead rail where the dressing hooks are fastened, all dangling without the burden of the slaughtered pigs, past the dehairing machine and scalding vat, all empty, right to the stunning pen.

“Ugh, I’m not so sure I want to know where my meat is coming from –” Hoseok’s mutters stop when they round the corner into the holding pen. The sight that awaits them there is the most gruesome that Jungkook has ever seen.

Afternoon sunlight shines into the otherwise dark room, illuminating a towering wooden frame standing in the middle of the space. An honest-to-God guillotine. The sound of Hoseok’s footsteps rushing out, retching is hardly registered by Jungkook, as his ears are drowned by the loud, furious thumping of his angry heart.

The weighted blade has been released, the wood surrounding it now stained red by the blood of its kill. No container has been placed to catch the severed part. Therefore, a sickening lurch threatens to turn Jungkook’s stomach inside out when he spots Dinah’s decapitated head lying not far from the contraption. Before he weakens and joins Hoseok in vomiting the contents of his stomach outside, Jungkook quickly canvasses the scene and leaves the building, barking out orders for the other crime scene officers to follow up.

As soon as they start the drive back to the city, Jungkook and Hoseok, now joined by Namjoon, dissect the latest case. Before leaving, Jungkook has managed to keep his wits and cool about long enough to examine the holding pen. A candle had been placed underneath the rope holding up the eerily sharp blade. Namjoon estimates that they only had four to six hours before the flame from the candle burnt through the rope, releasing the heavy blade and killing the poor student. Explaining to Taehyung that his girlfriend has been killed so mercilessly isn’t going to be easy.

As a result, Jungkook is physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted when he finally drives home, but his mind refuses to stop thinking about this series of murders. This time, the clues were fairly easy to decipher, however, it comes with a cost. It doesn’t slip his notice that the time allotted for them to find the second girls are growing less with each case. They had five days at the start, cut down several for the second one, then the time was shortened to one night, and this time they only had several hours. Likewise, the cool down period between the kidnappings are also growing shorter. He can’t help but lament the fact that the rush to find the second victims distracts them from finding the root of the problem – the killer.

“Kookie! I tried to call, but I couldn’t seem to reach you,” your voice is both anxious and hopeful at the same time as you open the door with Yoongi standing right behind you. A rueful shake of Jungkook’s head tells both of you all you need to know; with his failure, the body count has increased.

“I’m so sorry. I was so busy with work that I forgot to charge my phone,” Yoongi apologises as you grab Jungkook’s trembling hand with both your own. Jungkook assures your friend that his presence wouldn’t have helped much in this instance, but before he can go into any details, another figure emerges from inside the house.

“Don’t you guys think it’ll be better to talk inside?”

Guilt fills Jungkook when he sees Jimin. He can’t even remember when he last saw his best friend since his childhood days. However, Jimin’s sweet smile hasn’t changed, and it assuages the tumultuous emotions raging within Jungkook as they all move the discussion indoors.