Archive of Our Own

Jungkook isn’t sure how he got here.

He’d never in his life thought he would get one of these, never intended to, never even wanted one. Sure, he has some anime and action figures, but those are different. This is…

He had only searched as a joke, out of curiosity, just a moment of crippling loneliness in the ungodly hours of the night when the thoughts kept him awake, but… he can’t look away now. Most that he’d seen at first had just been sort of… weird, the way he had expected sex dolls to be, but somehow he ends up on one particular site which seems a little different. There’s something so… realistic about them, life-like. Still clearly dolls - the bodies actually even more doll-like than some of the others, ball-jointed and smooth, certain features exaggerated in a way only dolls can be, but they’re… they’re gorgeous. The prettiest ones he’s seen so far. They look more like art pieces than sex dolls. Except… they all look sad.

It’s the expression that’s perhaps the most realistic thing about them. That, and the depth to their eyes, like there really are secrets behind them, stories to read in them. Some are more shocked, some plain sad, almost all with the prettiest gems of tears dotting their cheeks and under their eyes. It tugs on Jungkook’s heartstrings.

What kind of niche is this? Who would want a sex doll that looks so sad, so hurt, so shocked, so scared? It makes him a little sick to think about.

He scrolls through, biting at his lip. 

Why are they so pretty though?

He finds his eyes lingering particularly over one, scrolling back up to find it again.

Yoongi, the title reads, each of the dolls named. They even have little biographies: Yoongi’s reads the pianist. 

Yoongi is stunning, pale skin, a hint of pink blush dusting across his cheeks where blueish diamonds rest as tears. His eyes sparkle, eyebrows furrowed up in the middle in sadness, cute button nose, kittenish pink lips pouty below it. His black hair contrasts so prettily against it, flowing down to his neck in soft waves.

Jungkook can’t look away. Something in his expression, his soft beauty… it captivates him.

Before he knows it, he’s placed the order.

*

Somehow, he manages to forget all about that night, like it really was just some lucid dream and he didn’t really buy a sex doll, of all things, online because he was lonely.

Until, of course, the package arrives.

He finds himself blushing intensely, even if the packaging is discreet--just an unassuming, plain, large box. He heaves it into his apartment, staring at it for a good long while.

Part of him wants to tear it open already, but the other part hesitates, finding the whole thing ridiculous.

But he has it now. He spent an insane amount of money and there’s no sending it back… it’s his, now. He should at least look at it.

It’s with trembling fingers that he slices through the tape, one by one on each edge until he can pry the box open. He hesitates before he does, but then takes in a deep breath and throws the lid off. His hands still shake as he removes the excess packaging.

And there it is.

His legs are folded up, unseeing eyes staring straight past Jungkook where his head lolls down to one side. Jungkook forgets to breathe.

He looks just like the pictures. Just as pretty.

He reaches out and gently traces the pads of two fingers down his cheek.

It’s soft, almost warm. It very nearly feels like skin.

Jungkook lets out a shaky breath. Then he gathers the doll carefully into his arms to lift him out of the box.

He’s somewhat heavy, which Jungkook probably should have expected, but it still surprises him. He’s shorter and smaller than Jungkook, but not by a lot - not as much as he would have expected. He’s, at most, about four inches shorter than him, truly life size. His limbs move easily, all joints easy to position once Jungkook sets him down on his bed.

Jungkook looks down at him, at his sad little expression. So pretty, so heart-wrenching.

But then Jungkook’s gaze drops down to his naked body. It almost embarrasses him, cheeks blushing pink but he has to remind himself its just a doll. It’s clearly just a doll, he can see the ball joints, the unnatural stillness, the artificial feel of its skin, even if the opening between its legs looks… Jungkook swallows. It’s just a doll. Still, it feels wrong to have him lie there naked.

His own clothes don’t feel worthy of the doll’s beauty - not to mention they’re too big - but Jungkook doesn’t have anything else for now, so he selects a shirt from his cupboard that’s on the smaller side and dresses him in it. He pulls some shorts on him underneath.

When he’s done, adjusting them so they fit well, fixing his hair where it’s gotten ruffled, Jungkook smiles softly at him. He strokes his cheek.

He’ll never have to suffer at the hands of some pervert… Jungkook will look after him. He will treat him well.

*

He gets used to having the doll there. It feels like he really has someone to come home to, someone to fill the loneliness.

He doesn’t do anything with him yet, just brushes his hair in the mornings, wipes away any dust that may have settled on his skin, talks to him softly, brings him to the window to let him enjoy the view. He buys him new clothes once he gets his next paycheck and can afford to splash out a little more - the doll really was expensive. But he buys an array of clothes, changing them whenever he feels like. And if his hands start to linger more each time he does, Jungkook doesn’t dwell on it. But he still doesn’t do anything.

Yoongi is just… he’s so delicate. Jungkook just wants to take care of him. He feels like he saved him from that website, from what he was meant for. He can make sure he won’t be sad anymore, even if those pretty, pretty tears are permanently there, the furrow of his eyebrows forever.

Even if Jungkook finds him impossibly pretty and wants to do more, it somehow feels wrong. He won’t do that to him

Not that Jungkook really has many people to talk to about him, but he doesn’t mention him at all to anyone. It must be weeks before he finally brings it up to his few friends during a gaming session.

“So, I bought something kinda crazy recently…” he says over the mic.

“Oh? What kind of thing?” Seokjin asks.

They don’t pause the game, still playing. Jungkook takes a few moments to speak up again.

“You’re not allowed to judge, okay? It’s just… I feel like I need to show someone.”

“We won’t judge!” Taehyung exclaims, “Just tell us, you’re making me so curious.”

“Yeah, why would we judge you?”

Jungkook hums, embarrassed.

“Okay, um… fuck,” he curses as his lack of focus makes him die in the game.

One of the others then pauses it.

“Just spill, dude. Don’t leave us hanging.”

“Okay, okay, it’s not…” Jungkook sighs. “I bought a sex doll. But like, it’s-- it’s different. You have to see him, he’s so- he’s so pretty, and his eyes…”

Taehyung whistles. “Aren’t those crazy expensive? How much did it cost?”

“Um…” Jungkook looks away even though they can’t see him.

“Holy shit, dude.”

Seokjin laughs. “Never thought you’d get one of those.”

“I know, I know, I mean it when I say he’s different.”

“I’m sure.”

“What does it feel like? Is it good? How many holes it got?”

Jungkook flushes.

“Jesus, Tae,” Seokjin says for him. “You pervert.”

“Hey, Jungkook’s the one who got the sex doll??”

Jungkook shakes his head.

“I haven’t… I didn’t get it to fuck.”

“Why the fuck else would you get a sex doll?”

“You don’t get it. He looked so sad. I just wanted…”

Taehyung snorts. “You’re such a sap. If you’re not gonna fuck it then I will. What? I’ve always wanted to try fucking a doll, I’ve never seen one before,” he adds when the others protest.

“Is this what’s gonna get you to meet me in person?”

“You know what, it might.”

Jungkook huffs out a laugh.

“You really are a perv. You’re not allowed to fuck him, he’s mine.”

“He is right, though, Kook-ah,” Seokjin says. “It is a sex doll. You might as well use it.”

“I dunno, it just feels…”

“Dude.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m being insane.” Jungkook shakes his head. “It’s just ever since I got him… I dunno, you just have to see him. It’s his expression, his eyes.”

“I really need to see it now.”

“I’ll show you later, I just-- I can’t stop thinking about him. There were so many more on the site, too, but this one was so…”

“You reckon I should get one?” Tae muses.

“You wish you could afford it,” Seokjin scoffs.

“Hey! I have money! If JK can afford it then I can, too.”

“You just wanna fuck it, get any old doll. These ones are…”

“Okay, I really need to see what’s so special about it.”

“He’s got a name, he’s not just an ‘it’.”

“Well, I guess failing the boyfriend or girlfriend thing, we can all just get one of these dolls.”

Jungkook flushes in embarrassment, but it’s not like he’s wrong. Jungkook did basically get him because he was chronically lonely and single. Yoongi is… kind of like his boyfriend. Just one that doesn’t talk, or move, or do anything… and he doesn’t fuck him, yet, doesn’t even kiss him.

They start a new game, still making a few comments over the mics about the doll. Despite their teasing, he does feel better having told them. He just wanted someone to know about him. He felt fit to burst.

When they’re finished, he pads back to Yoongi in his bedroom. He sits beside him, cupping his cheek.

‘It is a sex doll. You can use it.’

Jungkook swallows. It feels like a violation. He won’t.

Instead, he kisses his cheek, and lies down beside him.

Jin: hey, we’re still waiting on that picture

Tae: yeah, you can’t say all that and just leave us hanging?

Tae: kook??

Jin: yeah he fell asleep.

Tae: ??? he never sleeps what is this

Tae: i won’t use the pic for nefarious purposes, i promise

Jin: wink wink

Jungkook snorts as he reads the messages the next morning. He had totally forgotten. He quickly goes through to find the last picture he’d taken of Yoongi and sends it in the chat, putting his phone away to do his morning routine. When he comes back to it, there’s a bunch more messages and he rolls his eyes light-heartedly.

JIn: okay, i do have to admit it is /very/ pretty. i see what you mean about wanting to look after it

Tae: is that a maid dress????

Tae: you kinky bastard! you said it wasn’t for sex!

Tae: look after him my ass

Tae: knew you were a perv too

Jin: lmao 

Jungkook burns up a little.

Okay, so he had put him in a maid dress, but it wasn’t for-- it wasn’t anything like that. He’d just bought it among many other dresses and clothes and it happened to be one of the ones that looked prettiest on him.

And, okay, he never said he wasn’t a bit of a pervert… Who doesn’t think maid dresses are hot?

He sends a quick response and then continues about his day.

*

Telling his friends does mean that now they keep talking about it. Which is nice in some ways, however the only ways they want to talk is to know if Jungkook has fucked it or not yet. Which…

Jungkook doesn’t know why he’s making it such a big deal. It is a sex doll, after all. But he can’t shake the feeling that it’s wrong, even if his pent up lust builds stronger and stronger each day.

He’s jerked off to the thought of him - to pictures of him - plenty of times already, but never with Yoongi beside him on the bed. He always makes sure he’s in the other room, not wanting to soil him, as it were. Not wanting him to have to see.

As if Yoongi could see.

His friends, are right, he’s being ridiculous.

That night, when he tucks Yoongi into bed, instead of just kissing his hair or his forehead or his cheek, instead of just kissing the corner of his lips, Jungkook lets himself hover directly over them. He moves in slow, as if Yoongi would ever move or refuse. Still, he hesitates, a fraction of a centimeter away from the doll’s pink lips - and then finally closes it. His lips are soft against his, plush even though they are rather small. He can’t help but kiss him again, and then once more, parting with a soft, wet click. He stays close.

“Good night, Yoongi,” he murmurs, warm breath against Yoongi’s artificial skin.

He strokes his fingers against his face, then kisses him a final time before turning to lie down.

Just a few kisses almost got him worked up, almost had him lose control.

It’s just a sex doll, his friends’ voices ring in his ear. You’re supposed to use it.

He pushes away the thought.

But he can’t push away the building arousal.

He turns to face away from Yoongi, remaining under the covers while he slips a hand into his boxers. He bites his lip, feeling dirty as he desperately jerks himself off to the thought of the doll that lies right behind him. He almost feels watched.

He could just turn and sink his aching cock into Yoongi instead. That’s literally what he’s for. He probably feels so good. 

Jungkook hadn’t looked at him naked, much, even when dressing him. He prefers him adorned in pretty clothes. Still, the slit he’d seen between his legs, pink and plump, it had looked so inviting. Warm, tight… God, it probably feels so good to be inside him.

Jungkook thrusts into his fist, coming with a groan.

He lies there panting for a few moments, then just shucks off his soiled boxers and pyjama bottoms, throwing them off the bed to deal with in the morning.

After another moment, he turns to face Yoongi again, despite the shame of what he’d just done.

Yoongi is still lying there in the same position, unblinking, silently crying those pretty gem tears. Jungkook traces the side of one finger down his face, then in his hair. Then he closes his eyes to sleep.

That was the first time he jerked off beside him.

It becomes much more frequent after that. Jungkook even allows himself to look at his pretty doll while he does.

He's allowed at least that much.

*

“You actually haven’t fucked it yet?” 

“Why is that so hard to believe? Why is that so weird?”

“Dude, it’s a sex doll. You got it a maid dress. And you’re telling me, you don’t want to fuck it?”

“I’ve already told you… it just feels weird to.”

“Whatever, man. I’m just saying if I bought that…” he hears Taehyung smack his lips. “Well.”

“Do we really need to hear your fantasies,” Seokjin interjects, crackly laughter filtering through Jungkook’s headphones.

“I’m just saying! It can’t gag, it can’t taste, it can’t refuse… you could do so much. Does it’s mouth open? The lips look slightly parted.”

It does, but Jungkook doesn’t say so. He only knows because he was able to slip his tongue in as he kissed him. He kisses him a lot, now. If it weren’t for the lack of response, it almost felt real.

“I know what I would do,” Taehyung continues. “You’re lying if you say his sad little expression isn’t hot.”

“I pity whoever ends up with you,” Seokjin says.

Jungkook snorts. “As if there’s anyone who would get with him.”

“I’ll have you know people throw themselves at me. I’m a catch.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m not a loser recluse like Jungkookie here.”

“Ouch.”

“No offense, dude.”

Jungkook grunts. He’s right, he’s used to it. His only two friends are people he’s never met. And now apparently a sex doll.

“If you’re such a catch, how come you’re on here every day with us, then, hm?” Seokjin teases, chuckling.

“And getting so worked up over a picture of my sex doll. Something’s not adding up.”

“Overwatch and CoD every night really screams sex appeal, huh.”

“Shut up. There’s other times in the day, and just because I’m not always fucking doesn’t mean people aren’t interested. I’m only talking about your doll because it’s different to a real person. It’s hard to find someone who’ll let you piss on their face.”

“Dude, gross!”

Jungkook all but chokes. Instantly, his mind supplies him with the image of pissing on Yoongi’s face, soaking his poor, pitiful expression with something so obscene and dirty. He shakes it away. He would never defile Yoongi like that, like some animal or something.

Even if he thinks he would look pretty soaking wet, expression matching the situation. Real tears pouring down his cheeks and mixing with the piss, looking up at him pitifully… Even if just the thought makes something stir within him.

He’s been getting worse, lately, the urge stronger, harder to control. Taeyhung certainly hasn’t been helping.

“What, like you don’t have any quote unquote weird kinks? Fantasies? You’re lying. Once again, Jungkook is the one with the sex doll in a maid dress.”

“You know what, fair point,” Seokjin acquiesces, while Jungkook makes a noise of offense. 

“It’s honestly weirder to have it and not fuck it, if you ask me.”

“You’re so gross, Tae,” Jungkook sighs.

“You love me.”

“Do I?” but even as he says it, Jungkook is smiling.

He might be annoying and a pervert, but he does love Taehyung, and Seokjin, too.

He’s grateful to have them.

*

Jungkook hums contentedly, Yoongi’s slender fingers carding through his hair. There’s a soft humming, an almost raspy yet homey and comforting voice lilting a pretty tune. Golden light starts to filter over his eyelids, pulling Jungkook from the safe and warm of those hands, that voice. Yoongi’s voice. Yoongi’s eyes, no longer crying, smiling down at him instead, the corners crinkling.

But then Jungkook shifts, the light making his eyes squint and the images fade. He blinks his eyes open, staring at nothing for just a moment before suddenly getting up to look beside him.

Yoongi is there as ever, same sad face, lying unmoving.

Just a dream.

Jungkook reaches out, thumbs across Yoongi’s cheek and lip.

If only it weren’t a dream.

Would Yoongi really sound like that? And, oh, what if his beautiful fingers could find a keyboard, would he play so beautifully, to go with his gentle humming?

Jungkook wishes he could find out. Sometimes, he really feels like there's something more behind Yoongi's glimmering eyes. 

“Good morning, my darling,” he whispers, shifting in closer.

He presses a kiss to the corner of his lips, then full on. He weaves a hand in his hair to kiss him once more. Smiling, he pulls back to look at him. He wishes Yoongi could smile at him back. Wishes his eyes could shine with mirth instead of sadness.

Even like this, however… he is so pretty. Maybe, as Taehyung said, especially like this. His expression tugs at more than just Jungkook’s heartstrings.

He presses a final kiss to the doll’s lips, then gets up to go to the bathroom.

As he pushes down his morning wood to relieve himself, he can’t help but once again think of Taehyung’s comment. Imagining doing it over Yoongi’s face, instead. Maybe over his ass, where he can’t see, can only feel the splash of his stream once it hits him. He bites his lip. It doesn’t help with his situation, his cock remaining hard so he has to force his cock down and his bladder to empty through it.

When he’s done, he can’t help but just continue, pumping his cock to those lewd thoughts, part horrified at himself - especially after that lovely, domestic dream - mostly just impossibly aroused.

Taehyung could have said anything and it would have got Jungkook this interested. Yoongi is so pretty. Having him all this time and not doing anything, looking at him every day but denying himself… Jungkook has only been getting more and more pent up. Yoongi in any position, any kink, any way would be the most perfect for Jungkook, he doesn’t even care.

Why is he still holding back?

But when he finishes and goes back into his bedroom to see Yoongi lying there so innocently, that protectiveness just rises again and he can’t entertain any idea of using him. Instead, he walks up to him and cups his face so gently, smiling down at him.

It’s been a while since he changed his clothes. It’s true, he is particularly fond of the maid dress on him, but he changes it for a fresh one, pale blue and floaty.

“There. So pretty.”

He picks him up, tucking one arm under his knees and supporting his back with the other to carry him into his living room where he sets him down on the sofa. He drapes a blanket over his legs, foolishly thinking they look cold, bare as they are. He knows they’re not, but taking care of Yoongi as if he’s real just feels… nice. Feels right.

He smiles again, and leaves him with another kiss to his pouty lips.

When he gets back after work, he finds Yoongi tilted slightly so he’s resting awkwardly against the armrest where he must have fallen. Jungkook lifts him back into a better sitting position.

“Did you have a good day?” he asks softly, in the habit of talking to him now. “Mine’s better now I’m back with you. Missed you, my darling Yoongi.”

Jungkook could almost delude himself into thinking there’s a flicker of a smile, of a twinkle in his eye. He kisses Yoongi’s temple.

“Wanna watch something?”

He turns the television on, pulling the blanket across his own lap, too. His hand finds its way onto Yoongi’s thigh under it. He can almost forget that it’s not a real thigh. At some point, he completely loses interest in the show in favour of looking at Yoongi, instead.

He drags him onto his lap, the blanket falling away to the floor. He positions Yoongi’s legs around him, making the doll straddle him. He tilts Yoongi’s head down to look at him.

His weight, the softness of his skin, the maneuverability of his limbs… he feels so real. Jungkook knows, he knows, it’s just a doll, a sex doll at that. It even looks so incredibly doll-like, not like a person at all, and yet… he still can’t help but feel there’s something so human about him. Like there’s a real soul trapped in those gorgeous eyes.

His hands travel up and down his thighs, going as far as his ass under the dress but only smoothing over the skin there, nothing more. Jungkook hardly breathes, dragging his gaze up slowly from the thighs to the rest of him, and finally his pretty face. His hands travel the same path, mirrors of each other on each side, tracing Yoongi’s lines until they rest at his neck.

He draws Yoongi down, meeting him in a kiss.

He lets his tongue slip in again this time, delving into that soft mouth. It’s almost wet inside, like he’s made with some kind of lubricant. It seems believable, especially given the price he paid for him. He laves his tongue along the roof of Yoongi’s mouth, dragging it back out until he’s just sucking on his top lip. Then he kisses his bottom lip, slow, tugging on it just slightly until his teeth sink into it, too.

Before he knows it, he’s grinding up into him. It’s only when a moan slips out of his mouth, his hard cock grinding against the cleft of Yoongi’s ass through their clothes, that Jungkook suddenly freezes and stops what he’s doing.

Almost too quickly, he pushes Yoongi to the side again, Yoongi’s body collapsing awkwardly onto the sofa.

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook mutters.

He quickly collects and sorts Yoongi’s limbs, letting him lie across the seats.

He kisses him on the forehead, and then abruptly leaves the room.

Shit. It’s getting out of hand. He can’t control himself.

His cock is still hard, achingly so.

He doesn’t even make it past the doorway, leaning on the frame as he just takes his erection in hand works himself to completion, the memory of Yoongi’s weight, of the feel of him echoing on his skin.

He needs to get a hold of himself.

As he tucks Yoongi into bed that night, he finds himself apologising again. The splash of tears on his face only make him feel more guilty.

“I wouldn’t defile you,” he explains, “It’s just… out of love. You’re too pretty, my darling.”

He sighs.

He kisses Yoongi’s hair and gets himself ready for bed.

*

Tae: are we gonna get a pic of its whole body or ?

Tae: it got a dick or a pussy?

Tae: i wanna see

Jungkook rolls his eyes.

JK: what’s it to you?

Tae: come on, dude. sharing is caring.

JK: 🙄🙄

JK: its none of your business. get your own if you want one so bad

Tae: ugh, you’re no fun

Tae: at least send a new pic. whatever its wearing rn

JK: fiiine.

JK: [image sent]

Tae: hot

When Jungkook had told his friends, it really was just to get it off his chest, but Taehyung seems to have latched onto it, obsessed himself, too. Jungkook doesn’t mind, Taehyung is always horny, but at the same time the thought of him doing something to even just the image of Yoongi makes his stomach turn.

Yoongi’s his. His to protect.

But he lets it go. Taehyung is his friend, and it’s all in good jest. And Yoongi is just a sex doll, as they keep reminding him.

Yoongi is just a sex doll. This is literally his purpose.

Jungkook stares at him, discarding his phone to the side.

Just looking at him is enough to get his dick twitching. He really is so pretty. Not just pretty, but so alluring. The slight curve of his kittenish lips, pouty yet curling upwards at the corners just slightly. The softness to his slim body, the pale of his skin as if begging to be bruised. The long black wavy locks, so perfect to weave his fingers in and tug. The slender, pianist’s fingers, somewhat bony and pale but so pretty, dainty - he yearns to see them wrapped around him or in his own kitten mouth or clutching desperately at the sheets. The depth of his eyes that both makes Jungkook want to protect him from harm and make him happy, but also hurt him and see him cry more. He’s so perfectly designed in every way to arouse him, to pluck at each one of Jungkook’s emotions.

Before he knows it, Jungkook is kneeling over him and fisting his cock, gaze fixed on his pretty face as his hand works around himself. Yoongi just stares up at him, mixed sadness and confusion as always and it almost gets Jungkook harder, moaning at the thought of it being his reaction to him, to what he's doing. Like he's really defiling him. 

He must be sick for that. He bites his lip, but heat coils in his lower regions, threatening to burst.

It's okay. Yoongi's just a sex doll.

Jungkook pants heavily over him. His vision almost blurs with how hard he stares at that pretty face. He can’t look away, can't stop. It's like he's in a trance. 

Hot cum shoots out over that pretty face before he can even realise it, and it's only then that Jungkook seems to come back into himself, his own breaths suddenly so loud in the quiet room.

His hand is still around his dick, coaxing out another spurt of cum but he starts to feel dizzy in a different way now. He bites his lip.

His cum paints him like the gems of his tears, but messier, splattered haphazardly over his smooth skin. There's even some in his hair. On his lips, too, which Jungkook so wishes he would lick up and swallow, but of course, Yoongi has no reaction. Worst of all, is the cum directly in his eye, clinging to his lashes and beading over his irises.

Yoongi doesn't blink.

There’s something so unsettling about it as Jungkook takes a damp cloth to wipe it away. It makes him cringe, just touching his eye, as if it were real and would hurt.

He swears, he can feel them boring into him. There's something about them, there is.

But no, he's just a sex doll. It’s just a sex doll.

Jungkook leans down and licks its eye.

It's just a doll.

He finishes wiping away his mess, sighing as he looks down at him so more. 

It really is just a doll. He might as well use it.

He doesn't, yet, but he presses a kiss to his lips that's a little too hard, sinking his teeth into his plump lower lip as he pulls away.

If it's just a doll, why does he still feel guilty?

“Sorry,” he murmurs abashedly, but he isn't sure if he means it whole-heartedly anymore.

There's no way he can stay away much longer. Yoongi is too pretty, too attractive.

Or Jungkook is just too horny and perverted.

He can't control it anymore.

*

“Jungkook-ah.”

An almost familiar voice calls, soft and deep, a hint of whine to it.

“Jungkook-ah, I love you.”

There’s all too familiar eyes looking at him, warm, crinkling, but then-- they’re suddenly widening in panic.

“Jungkook, save me!”

Jungkook awakes with a start. He gasps for breath, instinctively looking over at his doll.

Yoongi’s there as usual, same position, same expression. Jungkook’s heart still races.

What was that?

He’s grown used to the occasional dream of Yoongi, false realities where he exists as a human by Jungkook’s side, whispering sweet words to him and holding him so tenderly. He’s even heard those three words from his lips before, but… save him?

Jungkook thought he already had. He’s safe, here, with him. No one else can get him, no one can hurt him.

Jungkook shakes the thoughts away. It was just a stupid dream. Of course his subconscious keeps creating strange scenarios with his doll, it’s not like he has anything else for it to work with. The doll is the only thing in his life besides his games and his online friends that he likes.

Sure, his work is okay, he makes good money, he has a nice apartment… but there’s nothing more to it. There’s no special person to share it with. Not until Yoongi.

It only makes sense that his mind tries to make him out to be a real person instead of the toy that he is.

Jungkook sighs.

The feeling that he’s being watched is nothing more than paranoia.

*

“Please, save me! Jungkook, get me out of here!”

The second time he has a dream like that is more insistent. Soft kisses, roaming hands, Yoongi reacting to him, making the cutest little noises and kissing back with his pretty kittenish mouth. Jungkook’s arms are around him, lowering him back until he’s pressing him into the couch. Yoongi’s limbs wrap around him, Jungkook’s heat pressing between his legs but everything is still so soft, so peaceful, even if he’s so close to finally getting him the way he’s longed to but denied himself. In the dream, he doesn’t think of that, though. He has Yoongi and it’s wonderful, blissful heaven -- only for it to once again turn suddenly into panic as Yoongi pulls away, frantic and scared, looking up at Jungkook so pitifully as he begs him to save him. He covers his head with his hands, breathing jaggedly.

“Save me, Jungkook, please. I can’t-- Save me!”

Jungkook can hardly calm his racing heart when he wakes.

“Get me out of here.”

Jungkook bites his lip, thinking about it. But it couldn’t mean anything, it couldn’t. It’s just a stupid dream, his own overactive and bored imagination. That unfounded guilt over wanting to fuck him, that’s all it is.

Still, he turns to Yoongi next to him and strokes his face, strokes through his hair.

“You’re safe, darling. I’ve got you.”

He places a kiss under Yoongi’s eye.

His breaths still come shaky, hands almost trembling as he holds his doll, but he ignores it. Also ignores the raging hard on he has in his pants despite the second part of the dream.

It was just a dream, after all.

“You’re safe with me.”

He doesn’t mention the dreams to his friends.

*

While he doesn’t get another like that, they do stop him going further again. The most he does is still jerk off to the sight of him, painting with him cum.

It takes a night of drinking to get him to ignore the guilt.

Even drunk, up until now, he had never gone as far as to fuck him. Some days he’d just cuddled him, the drink only making him emotional and clingy, other days he’d sleepily dry humped him, but he’d never gone as far as to undress him and enter him.

Tonight, he just can’t seem to understand why he’d put those restrictions on himself.

It’s just a doll, and his doll, at that. Jungkook paid good money for it. He should get to use it.

It’s not wrong.

And he’s so fucking horny.

He hasn’t had sex… well, ever.

Him being a loser recluse was not a lie, or even an exaggeration. Jungkook has always been awkward. He’d had girlfriends only in high school but had never gone that far. Back then, he hadn’t even considered it. And then afterwards… he was never good at making friends. People thought he was weird. And Jungkook preferred to stay in with his video games.

But Yoongi… Yoongi is his. He’s his and he’s so pretty, like a delicate angel or a fairy. Dressed in the sheer pink dress he’d put him in that morning, he really looks like one.

Jungkook licks his lips, his blood immediately pooling south.

“You want some, too?” he says, giggling as he sits beside him and brings his glass of wine to Yoongi’s lips, uncaring how the liquid sloshes dangerously close to the rim as he moves.

He peels Yoongi’s lower lip down and tips the glass in, giggling some more as the red liquid slides past. He pours in entirely too much. Some of it dribbles out of the corner of his mouth, rolling down pale skin and staining it with ruby rivers, gathering in his clavicle. Jungkook leans in and licks it up, from the base of his throat to his mouth. He lingers there, licking into the wet crevice, kissing him sloppily.

He moans.

Carelessly, he shoves the glass onto the nightstand to free his hand, letting him grab Yoongi’s face and kiss him harder. He crawls over him, pinning him down to the mattress.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he breathes out. 

He nips once more at his lip.

He drags his gaze over him when he pulls away. His lips are stained darker, and Jungkook can almost believe it’s from his teeth instead of just the stain of the wine. Oh, how he’d love to leave marks all over Yoongi’s porcelain skin. He wishes there was blood flowing through it.

But he’s just a doll.

Jungkook shoves down his trousers hastily, boxers too and his cock immediately springs free, all but slapping against his abdomen with how hard he is. He takes it in hand, pointing it towards Yoongi as he swirls his palm over the tip, pumping down slowly a few times. It’s angry and red compared to the pretty pink and pale of Yoongi’s skin and dress. And his face… like he doesn’t want this, like he’s scared. Jungkook knows his dick is big, if Yoongi were real, he might actually be scared. Jungkook could break him if he was rough enough. And not just there - one of Yoongi’s thighs is smaller even than Jungkook’s bicep. 

Maybe because he’s drunk, but the thought only turns him on more. Maybe Taehyung has got to him after all this time.

He doesn’t want to be rough, though, no matter how his cock twitches and aches to just slam home already. He wants to savour his pretty angel.

He bends down and kisses down his soft jaw and his neck again. Not that Jungkook would know, but it feels real enough. He pauses to take a sip of wine, keeping it in his mouth as he presses his lips to Yoongi’s skin again.

He lets the alcohol spill out slowly with each suck and bite, pretending the brief stains are love-marks.

He gets to Yoongi’s chest and quickly bunches up the dress under his armpits, leaving it there to move past it.

His nipples are dusty pink, so cute and perfect on him. Jungkook wraps his lips around one, then pulls back to instead continue the path with his hands. He trails them down, over the soft stomach and to the waistband of the plain white panties he’d given him. They’re lace tripped, a tiny bow in the middle. Jungkook tucks his fingers under, and pulls them down.

“God,” he moans, stuck staring at the sight.

He’s seen it already, of course, but now that he’s letting himself really look, now that he gets to sink inside… god. His cock spurts precum, begging to go in.

So Jungkook doesn’t deny it any longer.

He presses his thumb to the doll’s entrance, pleasantly surprised to find it moist when it dips inside between the folds. He strokes himself a few times, lining himself up to Yoongi’s pretty pink slit, and then in one motion, buries himself all the way in.

He moans loudly, blinking back stars.

It’s tight, the doll’s walls clinging close around him in a way that has Jungkook dizzying. In that moment, he really can’t fathom why he never did this sooner.

“Holy shit,” he curses, pulling out and beginning to set a rhythm.

Each thrust is just as good as the last, velvety softness encasing him like it was made just for him - and it was, really. Jungkook groans. He tears his gaze up from where he’s splitting him open to look at Yoongi’s teary face instead, and it only spurs him on more.

“Feel good?” he breathes out. “You feel so good. Fuck. Don’t cry, kitten.”

He folds Yoongi’s legs up higher to fuck in faster, almost delirious between the pleasure and the alcohol.

Look at him, defiling such a beautiful angel. Big bad monster taking advantage of a delicate little soul. Jungkook’s hands grip tighter. He can almost imagine Yoongi’s sweet cries, high-pitched whines, maybe begging him to stop, that it’s too much. More tears would spill down his cheeks, glistening.

Too much pleasure? Or does it hurt?

Jungkook doesn’t even care. Yoongi has to take it either way. If he doesn’t already, he’ll learn to like it.

“So good, fuck, ah-”

He’s the creepy loner pervert, keeping an innocent boy locked away in his house, just ready for him to take as he pleases. There for him to use, to rape.

Fuck.

To that thought, he comes, hips slapping hard against him as he groans. Hot cum fills him up, Jungkook thrusting weakly until his cock is spent, every last drop spilling inside his tight hole.

Jungkook pants heavily against him, collapsing down over him. He presses sloppy kisses to his skin, not pulling out.

“So good for me, darling,” he murmurs, “So perfect.”

He flops to the side, sleep overwhelming him, but before he can succumb to it, he turns Yoongi over and tugs him to his chest, aiming his cock to slip back inside him to sleep.

When Jungkook wakes, he’s not sure how long later, he’s desperate to piss. Groaning, he reaches down to grab himself, only to realise he’s still wrapped around Yoongi. He grunts a little, shifting so he can look down.

He hadn’t even put the covers over them before he’d fallen asleep, so he has a full view of their entangled bodies. Through groggy eyes, he spots some wine spills on the sheets, and then-- his cum, leaking down Yoongi’s thighs.

Right.

Jungkook swallows. His head kind of hurts, and his bladder really does.

Yoongi’s already a mess, it won’t do any harm if he just…

He shifts himself, grabbing his cock where it had slipped out to instead align it to Yoongi’s hole. He has to pry it open with a finger first to fit his cock in, and once it does, he just lets go. He sighs heavily, a gush of piss pouring out of him. He closes his eyes, pushing himself in a little deeper as his bladder empties.

It takes a good minute. 

When he’s done, he feels sleep waiting to claim him again. It’s not morning yet, and he has nothing to wake up for tomorrow… so he doesn’t fight it. He pulls out, Yoongi’s hole tightening up enough to not spill the load inside him, so Jungkook just goes back to sleep, deciding to deal with it all when he wakes up properly.

The sun is high in the sky by the time he wakes up next. He’s rolled onto his front, one arm splayed over Yoongi as he lies almost starfished on his soiled bed.

He groans, immediately wrinkling his face up as a mild headache hits him again.

“Ugh,” he groans again.

Slowly, he gets himself to sit up, instinctively looking to the side at Yoongi as he always does.

There’s still red stains around his mouth, and down his neck. Dried cum clings to his thighs and around his folds. If Jungkook isn’t imagining it, his belly looks just a little more distended.

But other than that, he’s the same as always. Not quite as wrecked as he’d like him to be, even if he is a mess down there. His eyes are the same, hair only a little messy, no sweat or blush or marks to betray how he was affected.

Because he wasn’t. He’s not alive.

Sighing, Jungkook swings his legs over the side, stretching as he gets out of bed. Before anything else, he goes to get some painkillers and water, brushing his teeth first since he hates the feeling of swallowing until they’re clean. Only then does he come back to start on… all this mess. Carefully, he peels Yoongi’s dress off, tossing it to one side. Then he strips the bed, collecting all the sheets in a bundle to wash later, moving Yoongi to one side to pull the bedsheet off. First, he should clean his doll, though.

He picks him up and takes him to the bathroom.

He sets him down in the tub and just stares for a moment.

Yoongi looks so sad. Jungkook should be used to it by now. Instead, he almost tears up.

He strips himself down and joins him in the tub, crouching down with Yoongi as he mulls over how best to do this.

Poor Yoongi. Even cleaning him up is kind of… degrading. Yoongi can’t do anything about it as Jungkook will inevitably be reaching inside him again to… remove, what he put there.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. He strokes his cheek. “But you were so good for me, baby. So perfect. You did so well.”

Yoongi cries his tears silently.

Jungkook grips his chin between two fingers, and leans in to seal their lips together. It’s a chaste kiss, but when Jungkook pulls away, his thoughts turn decidedly darker.

Last night, he’s never felt such pleasure in his life. He wants more. He’s going to clean him up anyway, he might as well make more mess now and save the trouble of doing it later.

“You’re gonna do so well for me again, okay, Yoongi? You’re my good doll.”

He keeps his voice soft, always gentle when he speaks to his doll. He still wants to take care of him more than anything, he still wants to cherish him - he just also lusts after him. It’s not wrong. He’s still in safe arms. Jungkook’s not hurting him, not doing anything too… obscene, to him.

He tells himself that even as he rubs his cock over Yoongi’s folds, rubbing it between his fingers until he’s releasing his piss again. It’s a much smaller stream this time, dribbling over Yoongi’s cunt and dripping down into the tub.

But it’s fine, it’s… it’s out of love. Jungkook will clean him and care for him after, he’s not defiling him.

He elects to ignore how it was the thought of ruining and raping him that got him the most turned on the previous night. Instead, he just works himself to full hardness against Yoongi’s cunt, and then sheathes himself inside.

He moans, blinking as he adjusts to the feeling.

It’s incredible how warm and realistic he feels. Jungkook doesn’t know how he ever went without this.

It doesn’t take long for him to cum, filling him up once more. When he pulls out, a dribble pulses out of Yoongi’s slit and joins the small puddle under him, trailing thick white strings.

Jungkook lets out a long breath.

“You are… so amazing.”

The silence that follows starts to unnerve him, so Jungkook quickly turns the shower on. The mess of fluids mixes and swirls and starts to wash down the drain. Yoongi just sits there, unmoving. Crying. Legs spread and vulnerable, naked, leaking. Jungkook’s heart feels tight all of a sudden.

He washes himself quickly, then crouches back down to Yoongi. 

He starts with his mouth, wiping at the red stain at the corner. He’s not sure how much, if any went inside. How far can it even go in there? He bites his lip, but presses his fingers to his lips, slowly slipping past them. It’s to make sure it’s clean, of course, that’s all. His fingers are able to slip past, three of them filling his mouth snugly.

It’s a pretty tight fit, though. He’s not sure anything else could fit.

He rubs his fingers in and out a little, hoping the water will wash away any more stains.

Then he pulls him directly under the stream, swallowing down the guilt as he spreads his legs apart further to push his fingers inside there, scooping out his mess. He holds him open and lets the water flow in, then tilts him down and tries to ease it all out again.

Then he turns him over, doing the same to his hole. He stretches him out as wide as he can, pressing on his lower abdomen to try and push all the liquid out. Before shutting the water off, he washes down Yoongi’s fake skin, laving away all the stains and spit.

For good measure, afterwards, he gets a bottle to squeeze more water into his hole, trying to make sure he’s all cleaned out. Then he sits with him, towelling him off gently and humming to himself.

“There,” he mutters, pleased.

It’s like nothing happened.

He chooses a new outfit, opting for a ruffled blouse and shorts set this time, smiling at the results.

“All better.” He strokes Yoongi’s hair, combing some strands into place. “See? I would never hurt you. You’re safe with me. This is all just because I love you.”

He smiles again. For just a moment, he thought he saw a flicker in Yoongi’s eyes. Did they… move? Then a drop rolls down his cheek, almost like a tear but Jungkook knows that’s not possible.

He doesn’t realise that’s the first time he’s said he loves him out loud.

“Must have missed a bit,” he chuckles, quickly wiping it away and getting under both eyes for good measure.

He takes him to his kitchen table, sitting him down while he makes himself some breakfast. He’s honestly starving, stomach protesting loudly. He decides on pancakes, craving the sugar.

“Do you want some?” he holds his fork out for Yoongi. “You look like you don’t eat enough.”

He wants to believe that Yoongi’s lips try to open.  He can just imagine them wrapping around the fork, a cute pink tongue darting out first to taste it. Would his eyes light up at the taste?

Jungkook sighs. Before he can dirty Yoongi or his pretty clothes with any runaway syrup, he brings the bite back to his own lips.

He doesn’t do much the rest of the day, being overly sweet with Yoongi as if to make up for the way he debased him that night… and morning. It’s not like he’s putting it on, though. He wants to be sweet with him. Yoongi is… Jungkook loves him.

He does end up thumbing through Yoongi's instructions leaflet, however, just to double check some things regarding his… use, and… cleaning.

And it turns out, you can put liquids down Yoongi's mouth. They will slowly make their own way out the other side, supposedly.

Jungkook finds that fascinating.

He can't feed him, but this is pretty close. And picturing the doll basically wetting himself? Why does that sound so cute? He wants to see it.

When he's eating lunch, he sits Yoongi down and tips his head back, feeding him some apple juice, and then some water just to be sure.

“There you go,” he mutters, wiping the spillage from his chin. “Must have been thirsty, hm?”

He gives him a kiss.

Then he just takes him to the couch, binge watching a random show and scrolling on his phone, stealing glances at Yoongi in between. He pulls him closer, so he can wrap his arm around him.

He'd partly chosen this outfit to prevent easy access, forcing himself to be chaste with Yoongi after having had his fill already, but as the night draws on, Jungkook can't help but want more again.

It's a fucking sex doll, and it felt so good. What is wrong with him that he feels guilty over using a toy that he bought? What is wrong with him that he keeps denying it to himself?

He ignores the little voice in his head and the strange feeling that's been following him ever since he landed on that website.

He presses in closer, unbuttoning Yoongi's shorts as he leans over him.

“You don't mind, do you? I just wanna make love to you. You're so pretty.”

He strokes through his hair, looking between his eyes and all over his face.

“I just want you,” he breathes.

And then he's kissing him.

Almost like his dream. Positioning Yoongi's limbs around him, holding him close and kissing him into the couch cushions… if only Yoongi would kiss back.

“Save me! Get me out of here!”

Jungkook pulls back, squeezing his eyes shut tight at the sudden memory.

No. That was just a stupid dream.

He shakes it away violently, putting that energy into kissing him harder. He bites at his lips, his jaw, his throat.

Quickly, he works open the buttons at Yoongi's collar and throws the blouse off him, making quick work of the shorts, too. He pores over his form appreciatively.

Yoongi has to be the prettiest doll ever made.

He sits back, pulling Yoongi on top of him instead. His cock is already hard against his sweats. He shoves them out of the way to free it, letting it rest against Yoongi's core.

Is that really how deep he goes inside him? His cock twitches at the visualisation, precum beading at the tip.

“You're gonna ride me, Yoongi, can you do that?”

He grips Yoongi's waist, rubbing his thumb comfortingly against it.

“You'll be so good, I know it.”

He pumps his cock against him, still watching in fascination at how much of Yoongi's stomach it covers. Then he places both hands on Yoongi's hips and lifts him up. He thrusts up at the same time he starts to sink Yoongi back down, groaning deeply at the feeling. He's still not used to it. It almost feels even better this time. And watching his cock go in, being engulfed by Yoongi’s tight, wet heat, seeing it stretch to accommodate him… it's so hot. He can appreciate it so much better now.

As he fucks up into him, he lets his gaze travel upwards to the barely there tits, the pink nipples, and then-- that expression. It almost makes him stop in his tracks, his heart stuttering weirdly but after that brief falter, Jungkook continues with renewed vigour. He reaches up to gently tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear, smiling up at him through his heavy breaths.

“So good for me. Made to take me, hm? So good, baby.”

The position becomes a little awkward, just not quite enough, so Jungkook is soon pinning him to the cushions again and fucking him deeply.

He finishes, seeing no reason why he shouldn't fill him up again, so he does.

“God, Yoongi. I love you,” he moans into his neck, catching his breath back.

When he pulls out, he gathers some of his mess onto his fingers and pushes it into Yoongi's mouth.

He chuckles to himself softly.

“Good doll. So, so good.”

He pecks his lips.

Then he takes him to bed, putting a little slip dress on him and settling in behind him to spoon him. 

“Goodnight, my darling.” He feeds his cock inside him again, liking the warmth. He cuddles close to him, settling his chin in the crook of Yoongi’s neck. “I love you.”

*

Jungkook wakes to a noise. He furrows his brows as he slowly regains consciousness, groaning as he stretches. His eyes don’t open yet, but he reaches out only to find empty mattress. Empty mattress, and a damp spot. At that, his eyes shoot open, arms propping him up as he looks around.

Did Yoongi fall off the bed?

But--

His eyes widen, struggling to comprehend the sight. Yoongi’s on the floor, sure enough, but he’s… he’s not…

He’s on his hand and knees, the other hand gripping at his lower regions, mouth open in a silent scream as he convulses. A string of bile spills from his lips, a small puddle under him.

“Y-- Yoongi?” Jungkook asks tentatively, swallowing the thick lump in his throat.

Yoongi turns his head just barely, but can’t seem to fully face him or make any noise. Jungkook can hear his ragged breaths. And then he retches once more, heaving as nothing but saliva seems to come out.

Jungkook can’t understand what he’s seeing.

Slowly, he gets up out of bed and towards Yoongi on the floor, each step slow. He crouches down.

“Yoongi,” he repeats.

He must be dreaming. This is the Yoongi he sees in his dreams, only… that Yoongi is usually happier. But that’s okay, Jungkook can help him feel better.

Aside from throwing up, Yoongi must have wet himself, Jungkook realises. The bottom of his dress is wet, the skin of his thighs shining with it - and the damp spot on the bed, too.

Jungkook reaches out to push back a strand of hair behind his ear. Then he grips his arms, keeping him steady.

He feels so real.

“You’re just a dream. I’ll wake up any moment.”

Yoongi tries to shake his head but it comes out weak. His face contorts in pain. There’s tears in his eyes, real ones, the gems now melted away and only the shine of actual wetness painting his round cheeks.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of you ‘til I wake up. All out?”

He gestures to the puddles surrounding him. Yoongi’s only answer is his ragged breathing. He leans back, running his hands over himself as if in horror.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Jungkook tries to reassure him. “Come.”

He tries to urge him to his feet, but Yoongi’s legs immediately shake and collapse when he tries, crumpling into Jungkook’s arms instead. Jungkook lifts him up bridal style without complaint.

“J-Jung…Kook…” Yoongi manages to rasp out.

“Yes, I’m here.”

As he did yesterday, Jungkook takes him to the bathroom and places him in the tub. This time, though, when he tries to remove Yoongi’s dress, Yoongi flinches, breaths coming even more panicked.

“We need to clean you, love. It’s okay.”

Yoongi seems to let him, despite the way he’s all tensed up.

“This isn’t… a dream,” Yoongi says slowly, struggling to get each word out. “I’m. Real.”

“Course you are.”

It doesn’t feel like a dream, but Jungkook just cannot believe any of this is happening. This is just a very realistic, lucid dream.

He cups Yoongi’s face and wipes his tears and his mouth under the spray of the water.

“You don’t… understand…”

Jungkook moves down. He tries to touch between Yoongi’s legs to clean him, but he yelps and quickly scoots back, trembling. Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock, staring as Yoongi curls himself up and cries.

“Wrong… wrong, it’s all wrong,” Yoongi mutters frantically to himself. 

He starts to grip at himself in random places, looking down at his body. He chokes up. He starts to hyperventilate, eyes blown wide and trembling, going unfocused.

“H-hey, hey,” Jungkook tries to calm him, but he’s at a loss.

What if this isn’t a dream?

He pinches himself, and nothing happens.

“Yoongi…”

Yoongi just keeps shaking his head, whole body shaking, shivering huddled in the tub. There’s a high pitched wheeze to his breaths, coming quicker and quicker until Yoongi’s eyes seem to roll back, and he faints.

“Yoongi!”

Jungkook surges forward to catch him before he can hit his head on the wall. 

What…? Just what is going on? He doesn’t know what to do.

Yoongi doesn’t come to. As guilty as he feels, Jungkook takes the opportunity to finish cleaning away the remnants of their fluids, lathering some soap over his new… skin. Actual skin. The joints are now bones, real, features human - even if they still look rather doll-like. He’s rounded out a little now that he’s a person, softer rather than precise.

Jungkook doesn’t take long, shutting off the water as soon as he can and wrapping Yoongi in a towel.

If this isn’t a dream, then… then Yoongi is…

But that doesn’t make any sense. Yoongi was a doll. Jungkook’s mind and insides swirl.

But if it isn't a dream, then all of Jungkook's weird feelings before, they finally make sense. He was right. He's not crazy.

Unless he is.

He does his best to switch his brain off and just wraps Yoongi up warm in a blanket after putting him in one of his hoodies, towelling off his hair. He still shivers as he lies there.

It takes a little while, but Yoongi soon twitches again, blinking awake.

“Hey!” Jungkook calls, relieved, “You scared me. Are you…”

He trails off. He’s asking his sex doll if he’s okay. His sex doll that seems to have just overnight decided to… come to life. Nothing about any of this makes any sense.

Yoongi blinks, looking around. He lets out a shaky breath. He puts the heels of his hands to his eyes, composing himself like that for a moment before nodding.

“Everything… everything feels wrong,” he mutters, not lifting his hands away.

He takes a few more jagged deep breaths, and then is suddenly convulsing forward again, doubling over as he heaves up more bile.

“I’m… I’m gonna get you some water.”

Jungkook hurries to do so, grabbing him some bread too in case he wants to try and eat.

Yoongi takes them gingerly, taking a few sips. He seems to calm down after that, a little. At least for now.

“So… how did you… how are you… you were a doll.” 

“I wasn’t. I wasn’t always.”

Jungkook’s mind reels. He sucks his teeth.

“So how did you… come back?”

Yoongi glances up at him.

“You freed me.”

“I did? How?”
He thinks back to what he did before, blushing when all he can remember is fucking him the day before. Did that…? But that doesn’t make sense. Surely something marketed as a sex doll wouldn’t… turn human if you had sex with it.

“You loved me,” Yoongi says, and Jungkook gapes, stunned. “And I…” he swallows, then nibbles at the bread.

“You loved me, too? Were you… aware? The whole time?”

Yoongi nods.

Jungkook flushes.

“Shit. I’m… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Could you… feel?” he almost winces asking, dreading knowing the answer.

“To an extent.”

When he got cum in his eyes. When he pissed inside him. Fucked him without knowing.

Yoongi felt it.

Jungkook’s stomach twists in knots.

He should have listened to his instincts, he shouldn’t have given in to his desires.

“It’s… it’s fine,” Yoongi speaks up again, “You didn’t know. I just wish you could have said it before you--” he cuts himself off.

Jungkook burns hotter.

“Do you have painkillers?” Yoongi finally just asks, changing the topic.

“Oh, of course! Sorry.”

Jungkook runs to grab some, biting his lip against the guilt, the confusion. Yoongi takes the pills gratefully.

“Do you know… how you got like that?”

Yoongi shakes his head.

“I don’t remember. Just that… it was a date, or, no, someone wanted to interview me to hire me? Or… it was… something like that. I met them, and then… I don’t know.” Yoongi shifts uncomfortably, his lower lip wavering, “They… changed me. My body… it’s still not… right.”

His voice shakes. His eyes stare down, not making eye contact. 

“I’m so sorry.”

Jungkook touches his shoulder, but Yoongi flinches. Jungkook pulls away.

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to do.

Yoongi ends up falling asleep again, so Jungkook leaves him be.

When he sees him again, Yoongi is padding towards him with a bright look in his eye and Jungkook's heart practically stops at the sight. He's all messy and sleepy but he looks happy now instead of in pain. Cosy, with his oversized jumper and messy bedhead, his puffy cheeks. Soft. 

He comes right up to him, reaching up to touch Jungkook's hair gently.

“You feeling better?” Jungkook asks, barely more than a whisper. 

“I'm alive,” Yoongi responds, and promptly throws his arms around Jungkook's shoulders, standing on his toes to reach. “I'm alive again. Thank you. You saved me.”

Jungkook is dumbfounded. His hands hover, not sure whether he can hug back. His mouth opens and closes uselessly, like a fish. 

Yoongi pulls back to smile at him, eyes crinkling and Jungkook-- Jungkook is awestruck. He lets his hands rest on him gently. He starts to lean in.

But Yoongi abruptly pulls himself free, turning to the window instead as if nothing happened. He places a hand on the cool glass, admiring the view from Jungkook's high rise apartment. His warm breath fogs the window just slightly, while his sparkling eyes take it in. It's not the greatest sight, but Jungkook supposes Yoongi hasn’t seen much of anything in… however long.

“I am sorry about before. Everything was hurting a lot. I didn't mean to seem ungrateful.”

“Not at all!”

“Because I am grateful.” He glances over at him and his gaze is earnest, but his ears dust pink. “It's just… everything is also…”

Yoongi bites his lip. He drops his hand down and fiddles with his fingers, scratching at his nails. Then he shakes his head, smiling once more but Jungkook can see the pain hiding behind it again. Not physical, this time, but still pain.

“It's okay, I understand,” he assures. “Just let me know if theres anything I can do to help you adjust. If I can help with anything at all."

Yoongi nods, but he doesn't ask for anything. Shuts off again, quiet.

And Jungkook knows it’s partly his fault. Yoongi felt everything. And he… he did that to him.

That hug is more than Jungkook probably deserves, and more than he'll ever get again. He still feels the echoes of Yoongi's soft hair against his chin, the weight of his body against him.

“I wanna go outside.”

“Oh, of course! Can you… I'll come with you?”

Yoongi shrugs, so Jungkook takes it as acceptance. He wouldn't want him to go alone, not when he doesn't know if he'll experience any more side effects or sudden bouts of pain, nausea.

He grabs a coat for Yoongi, then his own and they head out.

Yoongi seems happy in the fresh air, looking around with awe and wonder. His fingers splay out as if to feel every sensation better. It's rather cute.

Jungkook ushers him into a cafe along the way to buy him a warm drink. It's the least he can do - and he likes the way Yoongi's eyes light up even if he pretends not to be affected.

Maybe Yoongi will warm up to him more with time. Jungkook can wait. Yoongi just needs to adjust.

He does seem happy when Jungkook takes him to get food, too. He seems content as he eats. But there’s always this… lingering pain in his eyes.

And Jungkook’s lingering guilt.

It’s hard to know how to talk to him, now.

And after that first hug, Yoongi always pulls away from Jungkook’s touch, flinches if he doesn’t see it coming. Even simple touches, Jungkook just wanting to take his hand, or pat his shoulder, or tuck his hair out of his face.

It’s disheartening. Makes the guilt thicken.

But maybe Yoongi will adjust in time.

“Did you actually… love me, too?” Jungkook can’t stop himself from asking later, the thought continuously circulating in his brain.

He rubs his arm sheepishly after blurting it out.

Yoongi glances at him once before quickly averting his gaze. He doesn’t make a lot of eye contact, Jungkook has noticed. Of course, he’s still adjusting to being human again, body aflame from the changes, surely feeling disorientated and confused and not to mention, having to deal with Jungkook, a man who had just recently, what must have felt like to Yoongi, raped him. Still… he seems rather shy.

In response to the question, he nods once.

“Why? What did you… love?”

Yoongi clears his throat.

“I heard you sing a lot. Your voice is really pretty.”

Of course, ‘the pianist’ -  Yoongi is a musician.

“And you always spoke to me sweetly. It was nice. You were kind to me. And,” he peeks a glance up at him again, cheeks immediately tinting pink so he looks away. “You’re… you know.”

“I’m?”

“You’re… attractive,” Yoongi mutters out.

His shoulders shrug up to his ears while he avidly avoids Jungkook’s gaze, making himself small. Jungkook resists the urge to go up to him and take his face in his hands. Resists the urge to kiss him. He has to learn to keep his distance now.

“Thank you,” Jungkook giggles quietly. “You are too. But you know that. You’re still the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Thing.

Jungkook regrets it as soon as he hears himself say it. Yoongi looks uncomfortable for just a moment, but hides it well.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

He lets Yoongi take the bed at night, figuring that sleeping next to him, where he’d fucked him, would make him uncomfortable. Jungkook settles on the sofa instead. Where he’d also fucked him.

He sighs. He already misses having the doll next to him, in his arms as he sleeps. But having Yoongi, real Yoongi… he still can’t really wrap his mind around it enough to feel anything, just going through the motions like a dream.

*

What a strange dream, he thinks when he wakes up. His doll becoming a real person? Ha, what a fantasy.

It takes a few minutes for the realisation to dawn on him again. Faced with Yoongi - human Yoongi, no ball joints, no gem tears, changing expressions, freely moving Yoongi - sleeping in his bed, he can’t deny it.

In a trance, he gets ready and heads to work.

*

Yoongi continues to dress in Jungkook’s clothes. Naturally, he hadn’t wanted to wear Jungkook’s… choice of clothes for the doll, and of course Jungkook didn’t push him to. Until he gets him his own, he’s been borrowing Jungkook’s. The sweatshirt he’s in all but drowns him, the sweatpants rolled up several times to fit.

He looks cute in them, though.

He’s real.

Jungkook made him real again.

But since then… nothing has happened, other than helping Yoongi adjust. And awkward conversations.

He shouldn’t complain. Yoongi’s the one who went through such an unfathomable experience.

“There were dozens more,” Jungkook suddenly starts, remembering the site. “Where I found you. Are they all--?”

“Oh… I don’t know. You wouldn’t be able to save them, though.”

Right. 

But he saved Yoongi.

Only… now he isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do. It was easier when he was a doll. His dreams were easier, where they were already together and Yoongi tended to him like the sweetest little wife.

This Yoongi… he’s hurt. And Jungkook can’t fix it.

“How… how long were you… in there?”

Yoongi shrugs.

“Did anyone else…”

At that, Yoongi draws his hand to his mouth and nibbles at his nail.

“Just-- just the one who… He… but then he just put me away. Until I came here.”

Jungkook clenches his fists. 

“Shit. Should we… at least report it to the police?”

“What are they gonna do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they can find whoever is running that site. Find him. You don’t want that?”

Yoongi scoffs. “Like they would believe us.”

“Still…” Jungkook trails off. He wouldn’t believe someone if they told him this, either. But maybe if they just saw the other dolls… There really was something about them, even when Jungkook didn’t know what it was. And, “If the others look like any missing persons, maybe they’ll at least investigate a bit.”

“Jungkook… please. I- I don’t want to be a spectacle. I don’t…”

“Okay, okay, that’s fine. It’s just…”

“I’ll think about it.”

God, this situation is so fucked up. He can’t even imagine what Yoongi endured. Transformed, used, locked away, sold--

“Wait, shit, do you have a family? They’ll still be… It’s not been that long with you in there, right? We should get you back to them! I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think--”

Yoongi quickly shakes his head.

“No, I… how would I even explain it? I don’t…”

“We can figure something out, you don’t have to tell them everything. Just tell me who and where to look for, we can contact them and get you home safe to them. They must be so worried!”

Yoongi admits he does want to speak to his mom and brother, so Jungkook helps him find his brother’s social media. He seems troubled, though, unable to send a message, so Jungkook doesn’t push him, assuring him he can do it in his own time.

*

Jungkook feels like he’s always tiptoeing around Yoongi, unsure how to act. He’s seen him still have fits of panic, clutching onto himself with shaking hands, eyes wild. He’s seen him stare at himself naked in the mirror like he doesn’t recognise what he’s seeing. He’s heard him crying at night, most nights.

But Jungkook has never been that good with words, and his touch isn’t welcome, so he’s at a loss for options. He just wants him to be okay.

On top of that, after so long of touching him however he wants, kissing him good night, carrying him with him whatever he’s doing, dressing him and brushing his hair, kissing him whenever he feels like… now Jungkook feels like he’s being starved.

He’d ignored his guilt to fuck him before, but now? Now it’s entirely different. He couldn’t do that to a real person, not if he’d known.

The next best thing he can do is just, keep offering Yoongi things.

He buys him a piano. He has the space for an upright one, and the money. As long as Yoongi chooses to stay here, he might as well make him feel at home.

“You’re a pianist, right?” he says simply. “If there’s anything else you want, just ask. Anything.”

Yoongi is speechless. Jungkook doesn’t push it.

He comes home one day to hear him playing, though, the prettiest melody gracing his ears. He listens until Yoongi notices his presence and stops, flushing red.

“Don’t stop on my account!”

Yoongi shakes his head.

“I’m not… It’s been…”

“It sounded lovely.”

Yoongi ducks his head.

*

“Are you happy here?” Jungkook asks bluntly one day.

He’s been worried for days now, nothing making sense, and Yoongi…

“If you’re not, I can help you find somewhere new. Or get back to your family.” It pains him to say it, but just because they loved each other enough to break Yoongi’s curse, doesn’t mean Yoongi wants to stay with him. He doesn’t even want to touch him, barely converses with him. “You loved me when you were trapped, but if that’s not the case anymore…”

Yoongi whips his head up to looks at him in surprise, little eyes widening.

“I… I…”

“It’s okay, you can think about it.” Jungkook smiles sadly. “Just let me know. I just want you to be happy.”

He gets up and heads into the other room before Yoongi can respond.

Yoongi had spoken to his family in the end, but he’d decided to stay here. It had given Jungkook hope at first, but Yoongi just didn’t seem to be loosening up at all.

It’s just… hard to be with him like this. Jungkook feels so lost. Every part of him aches to hold him, to comfort him, but he can’t.

And then at nights, he can’t help but jerk off to him, shirt in his mouth to muffle any sounds while his hand is around his cock, getting himself off quickly to the thought of the person in his bedroom.

He’s a person now. But Jungkook still wants him. Seeing all his little expressions for real, now, hearing his deep voice, watching his pretty lips wrap around food, seeing his cheeks puff out over too large mouthfuls, seeing his dainty fingers dance across the keyboard… he only wants him more. Wants to draw out more expressions, more noises, wants to see him actively go down on his cock. Would he feel even better? It must, how could it not? He’d clench around him, moan for him, grip onto him - is he a scratcher? Would he cry? Squirt?

Jungkook grunts softly as he comes.

He can’t do this.

*

“You’ve been quieter these days,” Seokjin comments over their game.

“Yeah, and you’ve barely even been coming online! What’s been going on? Wait, don’t tell me… you’ve been too busy fucking your doll, haven’t you?”

Jungkook grunts in annoyance at his friends’ laughter.

“I’ve just been busy. Sorry guys. Work stuff.”

“Mm, I didn’t hear a denial on the doll?”

His silence spurs them on more.

Seokjin whistles. “Finally! Took you long enough!”

“You’re telling me!” Taehyung adds. “It would be loose and ruined by now if it was mine.”

“Wow, you’d waste thousands of won just like that?”

“Hey, what else did you pay for?”

“Fair. So how was it? Everything you hoped?”

“You fuck it in the maid dress? Or one of those skimpy little night dresses? Oh, I bet Kook bought it lingerie that he hasn’t shown us.”

“He’d only ever be in lingerie if it was mine.”

“Guys, can you just drop it? I’ll tell you about it later. Just… stop. Talk about your latest anime waifu or whatever.”

They’re silent for a moment, then Taehyung starts to protest, but drops it. Jungkook sighs in relief.

But a bit later, once they’ve switched games a few times, Taehyung does bring it up again, in a way.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. I really might get my own. I’ve mostly just been messing because Jungkook takes everything so personally, it’s funny, but I figure, why the hell not, right? If JK has one, why can’t I?”

“Did all the girls dump you or something?” Seokjin snorts.

“I’m serious. And no, I’ll have you know I had this really hot chick over just last night. She was just a bit of a prude, you know? So Kook, send me the site you got it from, yeah?”

Jungkook stays frozen.

If all of them really are people trapped in there…

Maybe if he tells him, they can fall in love, too. It seems unlikely.

Taehyung has never fallen in love. His requirements are too specific, fantasies too high. How could he ever fall for a doll? 

Jungkook sighs.

He’ll deal with it later.

*

Yoongi insists Jungkook come back to his bed. He’s shy but he looks so earnest, assuring him it’s fine and apologising for being a bother and, who is Jungkook to refuse, really? He can sleep well enough on the couch, has told Yoongi as much, but being able to sleep next to him again?

“Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “No, I- it’s fine. The bed is big. I’d hate to make you keep sleeping over there in your own house… if you want me to sleep on the couch, I can?”

“No way, not unless you’d prefer it. Like you said, the bed is big. If you’re okay, then it’s fine.”

He smiles, and Yoongi nods.

He can barely breathe that night, the both of them facing away from each other for privacy. Of course, he can’t spoon him like he wants to. He wouldn’t.

Having him there is nice.

Yoongi still hasn’t said he wants to leave or anything yet, either, so Jungkook holds out hope.

Sharing a bed, maybe that’s a start again.

It does put an end to his nightly escapades, however. His skin prickles at the proximity, wanting to just turn over and engulf him in his arms, hold him close and mould to him, but he can’t. Can’t face him, stroking his pretty face while he strokes his cock like he’s done so many nights past. Can’t peel his clothes down and slip his cock inside like he had done those two nights.

Not that he would want to. He wouldn’t. Not when he’s… real. It’s just… it’s just all so confusing in his mind.

He would learn to like it.

He shakes away the thought.

He forces it all down, trying to be civil.

*

He can’t be civil.

He hasn’t had the chance to get off in a few days now. Busy during the day, Yoongi always there when he’s not. He isn’t used to holding off.

Yoongi is asleep next to him, but Jungkook can’t manage to get there himself. His cock is hard and aching. Every part of him wants to roll Yoongi over and take him.

What is wrong with him?

Yoongi’s asleep. He’s sure he’s asleep.

He allows himself to turn around towards him, but that’s all. He keeps his eyes on him in the dark, just the shape of his curled up form. He can hardly see anything, but his image is etched into his mind anyway. Jungkook gets a hand around his dick.

As quickly and quietly as he’s able, he jerks himself off right there beside him, scarcely breathing.

He’s not hurting him, he’s not touching him. Yoongi’s asleep. And Jungkook needs to get off. That’s all.

Even if he thinks about shifting his clothes just a bit.  Even if he thinks about moving closer to press against him. Even if a part of him tries to convince himself that Yoongi would never know.

He doesn’t.

That’s all it is.

*

Jungkook hears Yoongi crying again.

The space next to him in bed is empty, his warmth dissipating already. He props himself up, looking around.

The noise is coming from the bathroom. Muffled whimpers and sniffles.

Jungkook’s mind must be addled from his pent up desire, because it even sounds like moans. They sound so pretty.

Jungkook has half a mind to just listen. To wrap his hand around his cock and stroke himself leisurely to the sweet noises of Yoongi’s muffled cries.

He’s a monster. And Yoongi is still the sweet doll he stole away for his own.

He still wants to ruin him.

He bites his lip.

But Yoongi is crying. He should… he should go check on him.

Tentatively, he approaches the bathroom door. It’s not locked, not even closed properly so it opens with just a light push.

“Yoongi?” Jungkook calls softly.

But the sight that greets him, freezes him in his tracks. Yoongi, too.

He stares up at Jungkook with wide, teary eyes, panicked but unmoving. And he’s… he’s crying, yes, but… those were definitely moans. Muffled around his hand where it’s pressed to his mouth, saliva pouring down and mixing with tears, but he moans again. Mixed with a whine, really, part in surprise and fear, part in arousal.

Because his lower half is completely bare where he’s sitting on the bath mat. His hand rubs frantically at his cunt. Three fingers are plunged in deep, globs of his arousal slipping out around them.

Some of those other times Jungkook had heard him crying, when they were still sleeping in separate rooms… had he been doing this then, too?

Jungkook swallows. He can’t look away.

His pants grow tight.

“H-hurts, please, it-- it hurts. Need, need…”

Yoongi pleads so pitifully, more tears spilling down his cheeks. And he’s… begging for him? Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to wait to be asked twice.

He’s in front of him in a second, shucking away his bottoms and pulling his cock free.

“Need me to fill you up? Need my big cock in you?”

Yoongi nods.

“Need, need,” he babbles.

“Poor baby. Daddy’s got you.”

He doesn’t know where that comes from but barely even registers it. Yoongi only gives himself to him, whimpering oh so cutely.

He’s a mess, just like Jungkook wanted to see. And he looks even better than he had imagined.

His tummy creases into soft rolls where he’s folded up to present himself, legs spread wide, so so deliciously messy and dripping everywhere. His little nose is pink from crying, eyes red rimmed.

Jungkook pulls Yoongi’s fingers out for him when he doesn’t seem to move himself. They squelch lewdly, strings of his arousal stretching between them but Jungkook doesn’t admire it longer. He aligns himself and thrusts all the way in.

Yoongi cries out, louder now as his hand falls away.

His head tips back against the tub, eyes rolling back as Jungkook starts to thrust.

“Good?” Jungkook asks breathlessly.

Yoongi can’t manage a reply.

“Missed you,” Jungkook rambles, “Needed you. Wanted you so bad. Let me make you feel good, fuck.”

He leans in and latches onto Yoongi’s jaw, pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses there and up to his lips. He kisses him once, twice, but then just pants into his mouth, unable to focus on anything but fucking into him.

He’s so fucking wet, and his thighs cling around him, sweet little whimpers pouring from his mouth. Jungkook can’t get enough, he feels so good. A gush of slick squirts past him.

“Holy shit.”

He pistons his hips harder, faster, Yoongi moaning.

“F-fill me, fill me up!”

Jungkook obeys. As his climax draws near, he buries himself in and lets it paint Yoongi’s insides, feeling more of Yoongi’s own juices gush out, too.

He stays there, letting himself come down from his high, until he hears a more distressed whimper. It grows into a cry, and Yoongi suddenly pushes him.

“Get off me!” he screams, scrambling up and almost tripping as he tries to run. 

His breathing is ragged, eyes wild again. He stops. He stumbles back, and throws up in the toilet bowl.

His body trembles. A mixture of slick and cum drips down his legs, skin flushed red and shining with sweat all over.

“Yoongi…?”

Yoongi shakes his head.

“Don’t touch me,” he manages out, voice wavering.

He spits into the bowl, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He gets to his feet, and Jungkook can only watch as he drags himself out of the bathroom, clinging onto the walls for support. His legs are shaking so bad, feet inturned, that Jungkook doesn’t even know how he makes it out, but he’s too stunned to follow or help. All he can do is watch after him.

He doesn’t understand.

Yoongi sleeps on the couch, and Jungkook doesn’t stop him or check on him, despite the way he worries his bottom lip to the point of bleeding.

It’s not like there’s anything he can do.

It isn’t until the next day that he tries to talk to him about it.

Yoongi is huddled on the sofa, knees drawn to his chest with his arms wrapped around them. Jungkook’s hoodie that he’s wearing swallows him whole, the sleeves well past his hands, the length almost fitting like a dress. He stares unseeingly at the TV playing a random drama.

Jungkook carefully sits on the edge of the sofa, as far away from Yoongi as he can so as not to frighten him.

“Can we… talk? About last night?” 

Yoongi brings his thumb up to his mouth. It’s then Jungkook notices the red around his nails, blood beading from his ruined nails and skin. He wants so badly to take his hand in his and stop him hurting himself further.

“Sorry,” Yoongi just mumbles.

“No, no you don’t need to apologise.” Jungkook sighs softly, running a hand through his hair. He watches the screen for a few seconds, then turns back to Yoongi. “I just want to understand. Did I hurt you? I really didn’t mean to.”

Yoongi keeps biting at his thumb. Jungkook doesn’t stop himself this time. He reaches out and covers his hand with his own, gently bringing it down. Yoongi’s breath hitches, body tensing but he doesn’t fight otherwise.

“You can tell me. I just… I though you wanted it.”

“I- I did.” Yoongi grimaces, almost like he’s in pain. “I… You ruined me!”

He tugs his hand free from Jungkook’s hold to bring them to his face. They tremble in front of him, not quite covering himself.

“You ruined me, you and that… that fucking…” he gestures, but trails off, burying his face into his hands, against his knees. “You ruined me,” he repeats, muffled.

Jungkook’s heart tugs.

Ruined. 

“I didn’t mean… I didn’t know…”

What is he supposed to say here? What is there to say?

“Every day I, I fucking… I want you. It hurts, and I hate it but I need you. It hurts so bad, I need it, but then I… but then you… and I just… I’m trapped. And I can’t get out. I can’t get out, I can’t get out and everything is wrong.”

“Shit, Yoongi… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Yoongi squeezes himself tighter into a ball. Jungkook hears him sob.

“And I need to leave, but I can’t, I don’t want to but you… I’m not… I don’t want to, I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to leave,” Jungkook says slowly. “If you don’t want to.”

Yoongi shakes his head, still not lifting it up.

“It’s all wrong. I don’t want to but you… you want me to. I’m ruined. You don’t… want me like this.”

“Hey, you can’t just decide that for me. How do you know I don’t?”

“I know. You don’t l-love me anymore, not like this. You love the doll. You want to…”

Yoongi swallows thickly. Shakily, he lifts his head, glancing just briefly at Jungkook but then turns his head in the other direction to him. He rests his cheek on his knees, sighing.

It’s true that Jungkook doesn’t really know this Yoongi. He doesn’t know how to act around him, doesn’t know how to shed the habits he made when he was just his doll. It’s true that he wants to fuck him, and more than just that. But not wanting him besides that? Not loving him?

Jungkook hesitates, and in his hesitation, Yoongi only crumples more in defeat.

“I’ll leave. It’s okay, I just…”

“No, no, Yoongi,” Jungkook quickly cuts in. 

Uncaring, now, he scoots in closer, taking Yoongi’s shoulders in his hands and pushing him back. He gently turns Yoongi’s face towards him.

Yoongi keeps his eyes downcast.

“I do love you, however you are. I want you, I want you here.”

A soft whimper sounds from Yoongi’s throat.

“I love you, Yoongi. I always will.”

Yoongi’s eyes sparkle with tears. His lashes flutter, lips trembling. Jungkook isn’t sure if he believes him or not, so he just keeps holding him, brushing his thumb against Yoongi’s cheek.

“If you want to stay, you can stay. As long as you want. We don’t have to have sex, or do anything at all. We can do whatever you like. Whatever you like.”

Jungkook will have to make do with his hand. He can manage.

He’d gone so long without it before, after all.

Even if now having him there makes it harder… He can manage. It’s not a big deal.

*

He comes home one day to Yoongi’s sweet moans.

He drops his things, instinctively following the sound, entranced by it.

He finds Yoongi in the bedroom, desperately humping against-- is that Jungkook’s speaker? One of his smaller, portable ones, the one he keeps on his bedside… now drenched in slick.

Yoongi looks up at him pleadingly.

No. No. Jungkook’s been here before. He can’t give in this time.

But Yoongi begs him with his eyes - and then with his words.

“It does-doesn’t fit, please, I need…”

It doesn’t take much to get Jungkook’s cock interested. He resists the urge to touch it, to get closer.

“You don’t want this,” Jungkook reasons carefully.

“Please!” Yoongi cries.

He’s pressing the speaker to himself, the flat edge trying desperately to slip past Yoongi’s folds but it can’t quite make it. It’s the wrong shape, the wrong size. Jungkook can’t even fathom how it could feel good, but Yoongi’s cunt is dripping, pink and swollen.

“Fucking hell,” Jungkook breathes out.

“I need your cock, Jungkook, please, give it to me!”

Jungkook is weak. How can he refuse?

He pounces on him, tearing down his clothes so he can enter him swiftly.

Much like last time, Yoongi is desperate for it, grips him tight, until he finishes and clarity washes over his mind again and he begins to struggle.

“Y-you begged me…” Jungkook tries weakly, watching Yoongi run and shut himself in the bathroom.

Thankfully, he doesn’t hear him throw up this time. There’s only panicked breathing and hiccuping sobs, that eventually calm down.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook calls through the door. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t just…”

There’s no reply.

Yoongi doesn’t avoid him after, though, so he takes that as a good sign, at least. Even if he sees the way Yoongi is lost in his own head, the way he so clearly despises his body to the point of being horrified. The way his urges clearly distress him.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to do about it all, so he just tries to continue as normal. Cooks for him, shows him some games, watches dramas with him. Sings softly as he goes about the apartment. Listens to Yoongi play piano.

That’s the only time Yoongi seems okay, when he plays. He clearly loves music so much. It’s beautiful to watch, to hear.

Jungkook smiles when Yoongi finishes playing, blinking open his eyes and turning to look at him. He steps forward, takes Yoongi’s hand in his and brings it to his lips. Yoongi doesn’t refuse.

“I love your music.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi mumbles, shyly looking down.

Jungkook places a finger under his chin and tips it up. He gives him time to stop him as he leans in, but Yoongi doesn’t. Jungkook kisses his cute nose, then his lips softly. His heart soars.

*

Jungkook wakes to Yoongi on top of him, calling his name. He doesn’t even wait for Jungkook to wake up fully before he’s already shoving down the waistband of his bottoms and wrapping a hand around his limp cock.

“I need you I need you I need you,” he keeps repeating like a mantra.

His hands fumble, eyes darting everywhere except Jungkook’s face directly. Despite that, he wastes no time, sinking himself down on Jungkook’s cock as soon as it’s hard enough to take him.

Jungkook couldn’t refuse if he wanted to.

He knows how this goes by now.

He grips Yoongi’s hips, thrusting up to meet Yoongi’s movements. He watches the blissed out expression on Yoongi’s face, the parted lips that betray cute little moans, pretty eyelashes fanning over his skin where his eyes remain closed. 

It’s quiet now, other than the pants of breath. Yoongi rides him desperately, but he doesn’t even spare him another glance, like he’s ashamed of himself.

Jungkook just lets him take what he needs.

This time, however, he’s prepared to pull out before coming, to let Yoongi go free. It’s Yoongi that clamps down hard, though, gripping him tight and refusing to let him go.

“No, fill me up, I need you!”

“Yoongi…”

“Fill me up, please!”

The clenching of his walls sends Jungkook over the edge, filling him up once again. And still, Yoongi refuses to let him go.

“More, fill me up more. Need, need it.”

“Yoongi.”

“Piss inside me, Jungkook. Fill me, use me!”

Jungkook practically growls.

Yoongi’s playing a dangerous game. But if that’s what he wants…

It takes a moment, but Jungkook soon releases inside him, Yoongi moaning as a new gush of warm liquid spills inside him, dribbling out from around where they’re connected.

Jungkook groans. He grips Yoongi harder, and rolls him over, pinning him down to the bed instead as the last of his stream trickles out.

“Happy?”

Yoongi whines.

A few moments, and he starts to struggle.

“No,” Jungkook growls. “Stop running. You’re safe. You’re not trapped. You’re fine.”

Yoongi’s breathing picks up. He struggles some more, tossing his head each way.

“Yoongi, look at me. Yoongi, calm down. Get used to it, accept it. It’s not like before. You can move. You’re here.”

Pinning him down like this, refusing him to let it go, Jungkook realises the irony of his words. Even so, he can’t bring himself to stop. Still groggy from sleep given how he was woken, frustrated from the last few times they’ve fucked - and the weeks that they haven’t - he can’t stop.

Yoongi will get used to it. He will learn to like it. Clearly, he wants to.

“Breathe, Yoongi, just breathe.”

Eventually, Yoongi goes still. His breaths get deeper, slower.

“Good boy. See? It’s not so bad. You’re okay.”

Jungkook pulls out slowly, turning to lay beside him, facing him. He wraps an arm around him, eyes already closing again. Yoongi doesn’t move.

“Just sleep,” Jungkook mumbles, before he does just that.

The guilt only hits him in the morning. 

Yoongi is already out of bed when he wakes up, and he finds him staring at nothing on the sofa.

“Hey.”

Yoongi startles, looking over at him. Jungkook sits beside him, leaving a bit of a gap between them.

“Are you okay?”

Yoongi nods, but doesn’t offer any further reply.

“I’m sorry about last night. I… didn’t mean to push you. It just… you barely even let me wake up and I wasn’t thinking and I just--”

Yoongi bites his lip, staring down at his lap. He chews off a layer fo skin, red blooming below. Jungkook wishes he wouldn’t hurt himself so.

“I don’t know what came over me,” Yoongi finally says, voice quiet. “I’m sorry. I don’t know-- I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

A tear slips down his cheek. Jungkook’s eyes widen. He scoots a little closer, tentatively putting a hand on his shoulder, then on his face when Yoongi doesn’t flinch away. He wipes the tear, then pulls his bleeding lip from between his teeth.

As much as it hurts, it’s also so pretty to see Yoongi like this. Real, raw. He can’t help bringing his thumb to his mouth to taste Yoongi’s fluids. Yoongi doesn’t look to see him.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook assures after a time, “Just… it’s okay if you… want that stuff. You can ask me, you don’t need to try and fight it. Maybe it’s the only way to replace the claustrophobia you feel over it.”

“You don’t--” Yoongi cuts himself off, sighing. He doesn’t finish his thought, resigning to just let out a small, “Maybe,” and leaving it at that.

“I promise, you’re safe with me. You’re safe now, you’re alive. Take your time, but trust yourself, trust me, okay? Maybe if you’re the one to initiate it more and be in control, you’d feel better?”

Yoongi stays quiet. Jungkook cups his face and turns it towards him. Yoongi is gnawing at his lip again. The movement draws Jungkook’s gaze, and his own lips part, staring. He pulls it free with his thumb again, then leans in and kisses him.

Yoongi lets out a soft noise, but his eyes soon flutter shut, making himself pliant. He kisses back softly, somewhat hesitant.

Jungkook smiles, pulling away.

“You’ll be okay, darling. I love you. I’m always here for you.”

Yoongi gives him a weak smile back.

*

Despite their conversation, Yoongi doesn’t initiate anything in the following days. A week goes by, and Jungkook doesn’t even hear him secretly getting off like he had been. Not in the shower, not in the dead of night, not when he comes home.

He doesn’t know if it’s a cause for concern or relief.

Is Yoongi just not feeling the urge anymore? If it isn’t paining him anymore, Jungkook can only assume it’s a good thing, even if it means… Yoongi doesn’t want to be intimate like that with him. But if he’s just repressing it further?

He keeps thinking himself in circles. All he wants is for Yoongi to be okay. For Yoongi to be his… but as his boyfriend, now. 

If he tries to ask, just if he’s doing okay, Yoongi only gives brief, noncommittal answers, waving him off.

He seems normal the rest of the time, though, so Jungkook has to just accept it, whatever Yoongi’s feelings and reasons are.

That is, until he walks into the kitchen one day to Yoongi perched on the armrest of one of the chairs, eyes vacant as he rocks himself on it - humping it, or at least that’s what it looks like. When Yoongi lets out the tiniest moan, Jungkook is sure that’s what’s happening.

He must have come in for a glass of water, the half empty glass placed on the table in front of him while he apparently just… started rubbing against the armrest. He probably perched on it just temporarily, and then the pressure against his throbbing core just took over his mind.

He clearly hasn’t realised what he’s doing.

Jungkook clears his throat.

Yoongi jumps, quickly dismounting the chair, panicked as he turns to face him.

“I- I was--”

Jungkook strides closer, backing Yoongi against the counter.

“You want me inside you?”

“N-no…” Even as he says it, Yoongi whimpers, his voice trembling. “I-I can’t.”

“Why not, love?”

Jungkook grabs his waist, slipping his thumb below the hemline to brush against bare skin. Yoongi’s breath hitches.

“I… I…”

Jungkook brings his other hand to Yoongi’s centre. Carefully, just barely, he touches him over his clothes. Yoongi whimpers again.

“You want it.”

Yoongi shakes his head, biting his lip.

“Remember what I said? Don’t fight it, baby. I can make you feel good. I can help, hm?”

Yoongi huffs pathetically. His gaze darts this way and then that, grappling for an excuse but coming up empty. Or rather, not knowing how to explain, but Jungkook only sees the repressed want oozing off him. The reluctance that’s so clearly unfounded.

Jungkook grips him more firmly through his sweats.

“I can give you what you want. Or you can take it, if you like. Hm, darling?”

A soft moan escapes Yoongi’s lips. His hips buck into Jungkook’s hand. He’s practically burning even through his clothes, and Jungkook can almost feel the damp of his arousal. And he’s still trying to deny it?

“Yoongi,” he tries again, trailing his fingers along the entire length of his slit, over the seam of his pants.

Breathing out shakily, Yoongi nods, arching into him at the same time. It’s enough of an answer.

Jungkook dives in and kisses his lips. His hands grope him freely, tongue delving into his waiting mouth and Yoongi just moans and gives himself to him, so, so needy and desperate.

When Jungkook manages to drag his sweats and underwear down, Yoongi is so wet it starts dripping down his thighs. Thick globs cling to his fingers as he slides them along his folds, stringing between them when he pulls them away.

“Jesus,” Jungkook mutters.

He quickly unbuttons his jeans and pushes them down just enough. 

“You want me that bad, hm?”

Yoongi whines. He seems to try and hide, pressing his legs together and ducking his chin.

“It’s okay, you can let it.” 

Jungkook kisses his jaw. Yoongi is still tense, trembling under his touch despite his desire. 

“Just let go, darling,” Jungkook whispers. “Just feel it. It’s okay.”

The tip of his cock presses against Yoongi’s entrance, and Yoongi whimpers pitifully.

Instead of pushing in, Jungkook swiftly reaches down to hook his hands under Yoongi’s thighs, lifting him up with ease and a cute squeak from Yoongi. He leans him back against the counter for support, and enters him in one go.

“There you go,” Jungkook pants, “Good?”

“Mmh,” Yoongi whines, unable to get out anything else.

“Relax,” Jungkook urges again, and starts to thrust.

He peppers his throat with kisses, carving in deep against the deadlock Yoongi’s thighs have around him, until they start to ease up, moans spilling more freely.

And with it, liquid comes gushing out of him.

Jungkook’s eyes widen, while Yoongi yelps, immediately tensing up again.

Jungkook plugs it up. Yoongi pants heavily, straining with the effort to hold back.

“Let go,” Jungkook repeats, “It’s okay. I don’t mind the mess.”

Yoongi’s face scrunches up, on the verge of tears so Jungkook kisses him gently.

“It’s okay, I promise, baby. You’ve been holding back for so long, it’s only natural, hm? Just let Daddy take care of you. Let Daddy make you feel good. You can let go, of everything. Daddy’s got you.”

With a whimper, Yoongi seems to do so, whether naturally or just because he couldn’t hold off any longer. Piss streams out in bursts with each of Jungkook’s movements, but he doesn’t stop fucking him through it. The mess only makes it hotter, the warm liquid streaming against him, the way each thrust in stems the flow only for it to gush down when he pulls out.

And Yoongi looks delirious, red in the face but finally at the point where he’s just let go, uncaring anymore. His eyes shine with unshed tears, lips with drool, and he clings onto Jungkook so cutely. He’s gorgeous. And he feels so fucking good. His sweet moans are music to Jungkook’s ears.

Even when he finishes, he can’t let go.

He catches his breath, Yoongi, too, the sound of their heavy pants filling the quiet air. Yoongi looks a mess. But he doesn’t run away.

He doesn’t run away this time, or whine, or push Jungkook away. He just stays put, trying to collect himself while he’s covered in his own piss and cum.

Jungkook sinks down, spreading Yoongi’s legs again, and puts his mouth on him, uncaring of the mess. Loving it, even. Mess is real. The mess is proof.

Yoongi’s not just a doll. And Jungkook makes him feel good. He’s real.

Fuck, he tastes good.

Yoongi gasps above him, stuttering out high pitched moans. He grips the counter tight, then clings desperately to Jungkook’s shoulder, to his hair, grasping for purchase. His thighs quiver around him just like his walls against his tongue. He’s so perfect.

Jungkook doesn’t stop until he brings Yoongi over the edge again.

He immediately rises again to take Yoongi into his arms, pressing a few kisses into his neck while Yoongi just pants, struggling to even open his eyes.

“Did so well, baby,” Jungkook murmurs into his skin. “So, so well. Feel okay?”

Yoongi barely manages a hum, low and gravelly.

Jungkook kisses below his jaw.

“You’re here, you’re with me now, I can make you feel good, however you want. Don’t need to run away anymore, okay? I’ll look after you, always.”

Yoongi hums again, weakly.

Jungkook holds him a while longer, then carries a pliant Yoongi to the bath to get them cleaned up. Much like when he was a doll, but everything is better now.

And Yoongi seems to be adjusting. Plus, he seems to like being here, with him. He stayed, he didn’t leave when he could have. And the troubles that followed him through the aftermath of the curse, well… he seems to be accepting it.

If Jungkook can keep making him feel good, that’s all he could want. And he has Yoongi, real, warm, breathing, in his arms, in his home, his music decorating the air, his low, soothing voice.

It’s enough. More that enough - more than Jungkook could have ever asked for.

All the complications, the confusions, the difficult explanations… it doesn’t matter, not when he has Yoongi.

He wanted to look after the doll, even if his intentions got a little tainted along the way. It’s no different with Yoongi.

He will look after him. He will keep him safe. And he will make him feel good, too.