#btswritersnet

[opaljm]

nip it in the bud (m) – kth

➻ female reader x taehyung

➻ going to get a piercing au/completing bucket list au + my brother’s best friend au + tattoo artist!taehyung

➻ genres: smut, romance

➻ length & status: 10k words; complete

➻ rating & warnings: 18+; taehyung has tattoos and piercings, he and his big hands are illegal, tae's oral fixation is entirely out of control, nipple sucking/breast play, semi-public sex (? idk tbh), the pussy eating he does is sloppy and gross, squirting, nasty/messy sex, unprotected sex (wear a condom and be safe kids OR ELSE), riding, creampie, pussy stuffing cuz tae has a big dick (I don’t think you understand it’s GIGANTIC), multiple orgasms

➻ summary: You're not sure how you ended up here, but maybe a shitty ex and a horrible breakup had a hand in what placed you in front of the tattoo parlor. It was already a nerve-wracking experience, but what you never expected was seeing that the owner and artist giving you nipple piercings was your older brother's best friend you hadn't seen in ages. to make things even worse, he got fucking hotter.

➻ a/n: this was born out of a TikTok where I learned that tattoo artists have to make sure your nipples are hard before piercing them and then I yelled at @jamaisjoons, having an existential crisis about how hot that was. She is the one who told me to write about it 😌 and the reason the fic exists. The last time I got piercings was idk 16 years ago (yes I was 7 🥴). I also have zero tattoos so my knowledge of this is minimal I just wanted to write hot Taehyung sex. Hope y’all enjoy this mess regardless. beta-read by @taegularities @hantaev & @chateautae​ (she helped with the summary too🤩) my favorite tae accounts who have encouraged me so much during this arduous writing process! beta-read and banner made by @softestmuse! You all were there for me for so much during this whole thing and helped so much 🥺

⋆ my masterlist ⋆

Were you actually going to do this? Was this really happening?

As you stood in front of the tattoo parlor christened “Inked in Blue & Grey,” by the messily arranged jagged font that laid out the cobalt blue neon letters decorating the shopfront, you almost chickened out. 

When you had been scrolling through Yelp late at night two weeks ago, flitting between the stages of depression and bargaining as you made your way through the grief from the breakup between you and your ex, Donghyuk, your eyes had stopped on the highly rated tattoo parlor – 4.9 stars? That was practically unheard of, especially when they had reviews and ratings in the tens of thousands. It hadn’t taken much for you, with eyes hurting from the blue light of your cellphone in the late hours and a head aching from how wine drunk you were, to quickly find the link to their website and sign up for an appointment to get twin nipple piercings. Well, no one ever wanted a singular nipple piercing to your knowledge. But you had no doubt that there were countless people out there who had chickened out from the pain of the first to not follow through with the second one.

You slowly pulled your lower lip with your teeth, softly biting down on the plump flesh as you had your head tilted up towards the intimidatingly bright letters of the parlor’s sign. The last time you had gotten any piercings was in summer camp ten years ago when Yuju had stabbed your ears through with a sewing needle. The needle had been unbearably hot from having been heated by the flame of the fluid lighter she had snuck into camp by tucking it in the black Nike crew socks she had been wearing on drop off day. It had stung you with the quick flashing pain of a burning stab wound. 

Yuju had been your last resort to get additional ear piercings which you had thought were so cool after you saw your brother walk into the house one day with several new helix piercings to go along with his lobe ones. You had begged your mother for another set of piercings, tired of having the boring set of two you had. You wouldn’t get them in the cartilage like Jimin had but wanted to add to your lobe. Your mother had vehemently denied your protests and grounded Jimin for sneaking out and getting piercings with his best friend Taehyung. 

You had complained about it to your cabin mates, who had seen the scores of tween and teen campers swoon over your brother and his friends who seemed edgy and dangerous. Your friends however were immune to their appeal and knew that they weren’t much more than geeky nerds who carefully hid their embarrassing tastes in both anime and porn. Hearing thirteen-year-old Y/N complain about her plight in the late-night whispers covered by the chirping of crickets that kept the night camp counselors from checking in on your cabin, Yuju had jumped down from her bunk into yours and eagerly offered to help you increase your total number of piercings up to four.

Looking back, you had no idea why you had trusted Yuju’s dubious claims of working at the Claire’s in the mall close to her house for three months. Later on, you found out that it had actually been Yuju’s older sister who had had the nice mall gig. The incident had left you with piercings that kept getting infected until one of them finally closed up, and you were still rocking the asymmetrical ear-piercing look, almost a decade later with one dangly earring threaded with stars on your right ear while a cubic zirconium stud and gold bedazzled moon clipped your left ear. You never saw the point of getting them fixed and had avoided piercings and needles to the best of your abilities until now.

You thought you pulled off the mixed jewelry look pretty well, but your face instantly scrunched up with an unhappy frown when you remembered Donghyuk telling you to wear matching earrings when you went out on dates with him. You bit down on the flesh of your bottom lip harder as you recalled how Donghyuk had constantly berated you and put you down for the entire duration of your three-year long relationship. Your face twisted as though a bitter taste had flooded your mouth when you remembered that your mother had been expecting him to propose to you this year. Why had you begged him for another chance when he callously threw your arms off him as he stomped around the apartment gathering up his things, ignoring your pleas and requests for an explanation until he couldn’t take it anymore? Then Donghyuk had turned around to you, glaring at you with the heat of his hard black-brown eyes, staring you down resentfully from his towering height of 6’2.

“I broke up with you because I’m tired of having such mind-numbingly vanilla sex with a woman who never comes. You’re so boring and honestly, I’m just not attracted to you anymore, Y/N. I thought I could change the meek mousy weirdo. But after three years, it looks like I was wrong,” he had said with a caustic bite to the venomous hate he spewed from his mouth.

Yes. You remembered exactly why you had booked that appointment in the fuzzy high you had gotten from too much wine and “Emily in Paris.” You had been so livid. Of all people, Donghyuk thought you were boring? Unadventurous, and vanilla? You were the one who was always holding yourself back from being too enthusiastic during sex because he could only get off when he was doing you doggy style with his hand covering your mouth in what he thought was his attempt at BDSM in the bedroom.

Your eyes lit up with renewed heat and you found yourself marching forward to the door and swinging it towards you with a powerful pull as you made your way in. Your newfound confidence only lasted until you made your way to the receptionist. There, you found yourself fumbling once more.

“Hi, I’m Park Y/N,” you stammered nervously, “I – uh, I made an appointment for… um nipple piercings,” you whispered the last bit, embarrassedly as your neck straightened and you twisted your head around to make sure no one else had overheard you. “Two weeks ago? I made my piercing appointment a while back,” you finished more confidently.

The receptionist stared at you expressionlessly. “What time is your appointment?” she asked, tucking back a vibrant purple lock of hair behind her ear.

“It’s – it’s the one o’ clock,” you mumbled, clearing your throat uneasily. You had never been in an establishment like this before and dressed in your oversized sage colored waffle knit sweater and a pair of charcoal gray Lululemon leggings you felt wildly out of place.

“Alright Y/N, here are the forms you need to fill out before you do this,” she said easily, plucking out the thick stapled document out of a manila folder. “Just a reminder, this is a semi-permanent body modification and this will close up rather quickly if you go without wearing jewelry for too long. There are pages on your medical history and if you have any allergies on the front. Prices and payment information are on the pages following that. The documents explaining the procedure and aftercare are at the end. We’ll send you home with a list of instructions on how to care for your new piercings after your appointment ends as well.”

You blinked, overwhelmed by the staggering amount of information she had just thrown your way. As you sat down at the oatmeal colored sherpa sofa at the reception and read through all the health risks and warnings, making sure you were taking in all of the information, carefully signing all the lines and checking off all the boxes, you wondered if you were in over your head.

Technically, it wasn’t too late for you to turn your back on this. You would lose your deposit, but you could still walk away – pain free. What would Jimin do if he found out that you had gotten your nipples pierced? Probably murder you, based on how he had reamed you and Yuju out after your ears had gotten infected from swimming in the lake the camp had been located next to. But would you really let your overbearing annoying older brother control you even now when you were 23? And how would Jimin even know about you getting these very intimate piercings? 

You only saw him a few times a year. There was no way Jimin would be finding out about this, nipples were more discreet than ears and you couldn’t even remember the last time you had been around your brother in clothing that would even hint that you had boobs, much less nipples. Jimin had only ever seen you in oversized T-shirts, flannel pajama bottoms or baggy sweats, and giant zip-up hoodies when he had the fortune of being in your company. No wonder he sometimes forgot you were a girl. 

Once you finished up the paperwork, you made your way back to the girl at the front desk with the clipboard. Placing it down on the counter, you took out your credit card to pay up front, with your id card beside it as verification on top of the terrazzo surface, but she shook her head, “You pay at the end for the piercings and the jewelry you pick. Personally, I prefer nipple clickers,” she said wryly, twisting her lips into a smirk.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you mumbled as you watched her stand up and come around to you.

“Follow me, I’ll take you to the private room we have for the more intimate tattoos and piercings. There’s only one artist in today but he should be finishing up with his other client soon. You’ll probably only have to wait 5 to 10 minutes for V,” she threw her words over her shoulder carelessly as she guided you through the narrow hallway.

When she closed the door behind you and left you alone in the room, you felt rather like you were at the doctor’s waiting for your gynecologist to come in and the panic quickly set in once again. Should you have your shirt off and be ready for the piercing? Or would the tattoo artist be freaked out if he was instantly assaulted with the image of your breasts the second he opened the door? Should you sit up on the wide leather covered table or continue to stand while staring awkwardly at the door waiting for the artist to walk in?

As you looked around the small room, your eyes caught on the artwork decorating the walls. They were on white backgrounds that were framed and looked like post-impressionist portraits. The color scheme stuck to black and the primary colors, while the faces had the boldest of expressions painted over them. Extraordinary, you thought, as the door opened behind you.

“Hi, I’m V. I'll be the artist who is piercing you today. I see you’ve signed up for two nipple piercings?” A deep sensual voice flooded into the room, making you shudder involuntarily. 

You turned back and saw a male looking down at the clipboard with the forms you had filled out, his face was half covered by an indigo face mask dotted with silver embroidered stars while the other half was concealed by the soft looking black waves that were flowing forward as his bangs swept over his forehead and obscured his eyes.

“Yes, that’s right,” you nervously tittered, “Should I– should I take off my top?”

“Mmhmm,” he murmured, his eyes quickly sweeping over you, barely looking at you, as he continued on professionally, “Could you also take off your bra and tie back your hair before sitting up on the table?”

V turned around to the cabinets to get out the clamps and needles he would need to pierce you. As he bustled around gathering purple latex gloves and alcohol wipes, he asked in his soothing husky voice, “So what type of jewelry are we thinking? Titanium straight barbells? White gold hoops?”

“Which one is better?” you asked, shuddering in the air-conditioned room as your arms prickled up with goosebumps and you wrapped your arms around your naked upper half.

“Most people get the straight barbells; they find them to be the most comfortable,” V said as he tinkered around with the selection of nipple rings, “Titanium is hypoallergenic so it’s a really good metal choice. If you’re more sensitive to metals I would probably recommend gold but that’s a little more expensive. Any special closures you’re looking for? Star attachments at the end? Moons?”

“Just the basic white gold straight barbells with the star ends,” you muttered quietly. You’d worry about getting more decorative adornments for your nipples when they fully healed from the piercings and you were more accustomed to them. For now, the cute stars at the ends, instead of spherical stoppers, would be enough.

V readied everything on a small table with wheels that he pushed to one side of where you were sitting. As he pulled his gloves on, he said, “I’m going to clean your nipples and then I'll flick them to make sure they are erect enough that I can comfortably clamp them and pierce the needle through them, okay? Let me know if at any moment I am making you feel uncomfortable, sound good?”

You hummed your assent and V finally looked up from his equipment, an alcohol wipe in his hand as he reached forward for your left breast. Before he made contact however, his eyes met yours.

“Y/N?” he yelped in shock, his large gloved fingers brushing against your nipple for the briefest of moments in his shock before he recovered and recoiled from you as though he had been struck.

Your brows furrowed as you confusedly inquired, “Taehyung?”

The two of you stared at each other in shock. The male who was standing in front of you with the Van Gogh-esque vines and branches wrapping their way up his right arm  and covering his throat surely could not be the Kim Taehyung you had grown up with. This could not be your brother Jimin’s childhood best friend. This could not be the former bane of your existence.

“Yes,” breathed Taehyung, still gaping at you with his mouth wide open from behind his mask, not that you could see. You noted that he respectively maintained eye contact with you the entire time, not letting his eyes dip below your gaze. Shrugging on your muted green sweater you glared at him. The second you were covered, Taehyung gazed upwards to the rafters and murmured a not so silent prayer much to your displeasure.

“Y/N why are you getting your– ” Taehyung stopped, obviously struggling with how to word his question while not wanting to talk about his best friend’s younger sister’s nipples. “Why are you getting more piercings?” he said instead with what you thought was highly misplaced affront. “Remember when you almost died because of Yuju in eighth grade?”

Taehyung was so dramatic. You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, noting with satisfaction that a red flush was spreading across his golden skin as you held your gaze.

Taehyung had been a junior in high school and the camp counselor assigned to all the cabins in the row yours had been in the same summer Yuju had gone ham with your ears. He had also gotten his ass handed to him when Jimin had found out that instead of making sure the campers were asleep he had been sucking face with Jennie Kim every night.

You scowled, annoyed by how the Taehyung in front of you was a long way away from the gangly nerd with unattractive rectangle framed dad glasses and straight brown hair cut into an unflattering bowl cut that you remembered. Sure, everyone had always talked about how attractive Taehyung had been growing up, but you had never seen it. Taehyung had been a geek who had a penchant for weird outfits with his loose fit/too short culottes, brightly colored oversized crewnecks that were more hole than sweater thanks to his overeager hands when it came to snipping with scissors, and black beat-up converse lows. He had been the furthest thing from what you were into back in the day. However, the man standing in front of you right now? He was almost intimidatingly beautiful. A stunning Adonis, so gorgeous that even Aphrodite had fallen in love.

Taehyung had pulled off his mask and was frowning at you, his petal pink lips pressed thinly together. Your eyes widened when you noticed the glint of silver peeking out between his lips. Taehyung had a piercing on his tongue.

“Are you trying to police my right to have piercings?” you angrily demanded, “You work at a tattoo parlor! You have seven piercings.”

His beautiful dark brows pulled down as his wavy hair swept forward covering one of his eyes again, but he hectically moved his hair away from his face as he looked at you in abrupt alarm, “How could you possibly know that?!”

You froze in confusion, halting your impassioned tirade. Taehyung had seven piercings? You looked at him straight on again, your eyes flitting across his body, scanning him from head to toe. You had known about his five ear piercings. He had gotten them with Jimin when the two of them had still been in high school and you would see Taehyung everyday either at school or your house because of how often he would be over. The only facial piercing he had was his tongue. Where was the seventh? As your gaze drifted down his front, it stopped at his chest. Though you had been thinking about people with only one nipple piercing earlier, you somehow didn’t think Taehyung would be in that crowd. 

Your gaze finally stopped awkwardly at his crotch which was concealed by his black jeans. You stilled at the thought of Taehyung having a piercing on his cock and tried to look away quickly after you came to the realization. 

Unfortunately for you, Taehyung hadn’t planned on making it easy for you. A large veiny hand palmed at his denim covered crotch. “Are you having dirty thoughts about my dick, Y/N?” murmured Taehyung.

“I’m not!” you protested. “I’m just here for my piercing appointment so get on with it, Taehyung! Treat me like one of your usual customers!” 

You grabbed at the bottom of your sweater again and this time, instead of just holding it up above your breasts for Taehyung, you pulled the entire thing off. With your bare chest still heaving, you attempted to straighten your back, meeting Taehyung’s eyes confidently. 

Taehyung held your gaze with heat behind his chocolaty brown eyes for long interminable minutes. A sense of understanding seemed to pass between the two of you before he bit his lips and grated, “Fine, Y/N.”

Taehyung went back to the table where he had been preparing his equipment, making sure that he had gathered everything before pushing it along to stand right next to where you were seated. He sat down on a circular stool with wheels and slid towards you, using his feet to propel him forward.

Sighing once he was in front of you, he squirted hand sanitizer on his purple encased hands to make sure they were still clean, though he hadn’t touched anything other than your jewelry to resterilize them after his panicked realization that you were his client. He slowly and thoroughly rubbed his palms together, working the sanitizer in between his fingers, taking as much time as he could to delay the inevitable and then fanned them to dry. You were mesmerized by the size of his hands. They were so big they could probably cover your boobs with room to spare even though you were a rather busty girl yourself. You whimpered a little as you watched him at work.

Taehyung had heard you making that sound but he tried to ignore it. You were making it hard for him to think straight. He had never once thought that one day his dick would fall for Jimin’s crybaby little sister that he had annoyed at every opportunity he had gotten when he was younger. He had been trying to avoid direct eye contact with your uncovered upper half without much success. Your two voluptuous teardrop breasts seemed to be begging for his attention with their perky upturned nipples, hard due to the cold air drafting into the room. And below your breasts was your tiny waist and heavenly hips. You were shaped like the hourglass filled with black sand that he had for decoration in this room. 

He had already sterilized the white gold bars that you had wanted, and cleaning them a third time would only make you have an angry outburst again he was sure, but now it was time for him to get your nipples ready. He matter-of-factly ripped open an alcohol wipe, unfolding the drenched white sheet within the packet. It was finally time for him to touch you. He didn’t think he had ever been so unnerved in his life. 

Pulling the seat as close to the table that you were on as he comfortably could, he reached out for you. One of his large hands clutched your side, long fingers splayed over your ribs to hold you in place, as his other hand delicately swiped at your nipples with the alcohol wipe. You were frozen like a statue, not even daring to breathe as Taehyung was at work, his face only inches away from your breasts. Too soon, or so you had thought, his hands went away to grab the surgical scrub to further ensure that your nipples were as clean and disinfected as possible before he went to work and actually stabbed your chest to create the piercings. 

You sighed as his hands returned to your chest again. Taehyung had moved on from cleaning your skin to etching them with a marker to indicate where your piercings would be. He cupped the underside of one of your breasts with his left hand while his right hand carefully drew blue dots on either side of your nipples that were parallel to each other. He then switched over to your other breast and drew on the dots to replicate what he had marked before as symmetrically as possible. 

The scratchiness of the pen tip hardened your nipples even more than they had been and wetness pooled in between your pressed thighs. When he was done his palm was flat against your abdomen, pushing you back, “You’ll want to lie down Y/N just to be cautious. Some people get their piercings done sitting but there is the possibility that you’ll faint so I just want everything to be safe for you.”

As you laid back to rest on top of the butcher paper covering the cool leather of the table, you panicked. Taehyung was really going to do this. He was treating you like a paying customer, which you were, but you found yourself wishing that he wasn’t acting so professionally and had tried harder to dissuade you from getting these piercings, especially since you were having second thoughts about this. 

He finally returned to face you again, holding a steel contraption that looked like scissors but the ends were flat with little holes. He had his fingers threaded through the clamps he was going to use to hold your nipple as he pricked through it with a long sterilized needle. 

Taehyung sighed, “I’m going to have to flick and touch your nipples a lot. I’m sure you’re aware of that already but it might take a little more finagling than you thought. It might not be a one and done process where the clamps are perfectly on on the first try. Just, tell me if it’s too much or I’m making you uncomfortable and I’ll immediately back off. Okay, Y/N?”

You nodded mutely. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. What if you threw up all over Taehyung the second you opened your mouth?

Taehyung held your right nipple in between his forefinger and thumb, gauging its firmness before determining that it wasn’t erect enough. He flicked it with his finger, and you had to stifle your reaction, the hardness of his nail bed, even through the latex glove, catching you by surprise. Finally, he was ready to use the clamps.

You breathed through your mouth as the metal clamps pinched your delicate mauve areola to hold the bud of your nipple in place. Leaving the equipment dangling from the edge of your breast, Taehyung turned back around to grab the needle he had prepared. 

While Taehyung had been focused on the next step, you had managed to further your panicked state and were almost hyperventilating. Your lips were pressed tightly together and your hands had furled themselves into clenched fists that had your fingers digging into the thin white butcher paper beneath you, ripping it as your nails dug tiny indentations into the smooth leather underneath. 

Before Taehyung went ahead with the first of your piercings, he glanced at your face, like he did with all his clients to make sure that everything was still going smoothly. What he found had him putting the needle down again. Your face was white with fear and your eyes were filled with liquid. 

“Hey,” murmured Taehyung softly, his gloved hand cupping your cheek. “What’s up Y/N? You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“No!” you protested fiercely.

“Miss Park Y/N,” teased Taehyung, striving to adopt a lighthearted tone, “Come on, is it just nerves? You can tell me. If I know what’s wrong then I can help you fix it. Do you not wanna get these done today?”

You sighed, “Taehyung, it’s just. I don’t know. Why am I even doing this?”

“Hmm,” hummed Taehyung, steepling his fingers, his warm brown eyes glancing at you comfortingly, “A very good question. Why are you doing this? We don’t want you getting a piercing for the wrong reasons. What is it? Have you been down in the dumps and need some change? Well maybe it’ll help you but maybe it won’t and then you’ll end up with far more piercings than you ever thought you would.”

“Is that what happened with you?” you whispered. Now that Taehyung wasn’t actively working on getting your piercings done, you had covered your chest again with your hands cupping your breasts.

“Not exactly,” admitted Taehyung, “Maybe at first when I was getting the piercings with Jimin, but later on as I got more serious about art and creating, it became a way for me to express myself to the world. A way to solidify my character and what I wanted to be known for and associated with. I really had fun once I started adding the tattoos in,” he laughed huskily. His cheeks came with his boxy wide spread grin. You had missed Taehyung. Though granted, he had been annoying for much of your childhood, you’d had a lot of fun with him. You adored Taehyung, you realized belatedly. Though perhaps realizing it while you were topless was not the best time for your epiphany, you thought as blush took over you, blood rushing to the surface of your skin, painting your cheeks, ears, and chest a muted red.

“Will you tell me where the seventh piercing is?” you asked softly, pushing yourself up. 

Taehyung stared at you, his gaze going in between your face and your uncovered form, its heat was infectious and made your own skin flush even further in its wake.

“Perhaps,” he agreed, “Although, you’ll have to tell me what pulled you into this studio today, first.”

You pouted, “It’s really dumb.”

“This is a safe place,” Taehyung smirked winningly. He repeatedly raised and lowered his thick, impeccably groomed eyebrows mischievously, “I won’t judge you, Y/N.”

“Yes, you will,” you groaned.

“Yes, I will,” admitted Taehyung easily, the ghost of a smile still painting his lips. “But you’ll tell me anyway, won’t you?”

“Donghyuk broke up with me,” you grumbled, “We were supposed to get married.”

Taehyung blinked, he vaguely remembered a baby faced male that was slightly taller than him with a mushroom cap haircut. He scoffed, “The audacity of some people. You were so far out of his league, it’s insulting that you weren’t the one to end things.”

You smiled weakly at Taehyung’s attempt to cheer you up. “It made my mind go all over the place. I don’t know. Maybe he wasn’t wrong. Maybe I am unadventurous and boring. Maybe I am vanilla.”

“What’s wrong with vanilla?” complained Taehyung, throwing his hands up. His outcry of displeasure loud and clear.

You snorted, your gaze focusing on the length of his fluttering fingers for far too long, “Let’s not pretend you’re not one freaky mofo, Taehyung. But I don’t know, I just wanted to live a little.”

“So?” retorted Taehyung mulishly, “I am a man of diverse tastes. I can appreciate both vanilla and some of the more– experimental stuff.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, “I wanted to get nipple piercings, they're adventurous right? And it’s not because I think that if I do this he’ll get back together with me. But maybe he’s the one who kept me trapped and complacent. Maybe he’s the reason I’m not bold. I just wanted to try something new.”

Taehyung scoffed, “You didn’t have to go to such drastic and permanent measures. You can barely handle the nipple clamp. You would’ve cried and complained the entire month that you had to wait for your nipples to heal. You forget that, I know you. Oh Y/N,” Taehyung suddenly recalled, “You can’t do sexy stuff with your nipples while they heal so how exactly would that have helped you during your kinky adventures?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “You don’t know me that well!”

“No?”

“I’m gonna lose my deposit,” you griped. “This is the worst day of my life.”

“You are so dramatic Y/N,” Taehyung replied, “How can this be the worst day of your life?!” he demanded, “What about the day Donghyun broke up with you and pushed you head first through the five stages of grief?”

“Donghyuk,” you corrected. Taehyung made a face at you, contorting his handsome visage into something that made you let out a loud laugh, visibly showing he did not give one fuck about what your former boyfriend’s name was.

“It’s not a complete loss, Y/N,” Taehyung murmured. 

“Why do you say that?” you asked. 

Taehyung placed those devilishly sexy and large hands on your waist pulling you closer to the edge of the table to where he was seated besides you. You gasped at how his grasp almost entirely circled your waist until his widespread fingers were millimeters away from meeting each other. “Ever had sex with the owner of a tattoo parlor?” he breathed, his deep voice purposefully gravelly and husky. 

“No,” you murmured, hardly daring to believe that Taehyung returned your affections. The long buried feelings from your secret crush on Taehyung all those years ago, erupting once again in your heart.

“You don’t need to get piercings to make it fun, Y/N,” Taehyung tantalized.

“You’ll tell me about the seventh piercing?” you confirmed.

Taehyung barked out a laugh. “I’ll do you one better,” he murmured, “I’ll show you where it is.” He finished off with a rakish wink.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked, hands already moving forward to cup his chiseled cheeks and jaw within their grasp.

“Hold on one second,” Taehyung chuckled, peering at you playfully as he looked up at you from where his face was in between your palms. “I gotta do one thing first.”

Taehyung went to remove the metal clamps from your poor neglected nipple that had gone slightly numb from being within its confines this entire time. “My poor Y/N,” Taehyung softened his tone as he rubbed your breast to bring back the feeling. “I’m sorry for not doing this earlier.”

He ducked his head, his plush lips wrapping around the abused peak as he soothed it with warm wet licks and light suction. You let out a high pitched sound and then choked when the cool metal ball on his tongue slinked against your sore nipple as he twirled his tongue around the flesh. He was uncharacteristically gentle though he was spitting against your breast and spreading the welcome coolness around the hard peak.

You let your hands go up to his head, fingers raking themselves into silky soft black waves, holding him into place while he worshiped your chest. Soon, Taehyung switched over to the other breast, enveloping it in the warm wet heat of his mouth, as well. He was much rougher this time as he didn’t have to be careful. His teeth grazed the hard bud, nipping the nipple lightly as you found yourself letting out endless keens.

“Fuck,” muttered Taehyung finally pulling himself away, “How are you this sensitive and responsive? You would’ve had such a rough time with the aftercare if you had gone through with this.”

You shook your head, ignoring his question. “Taehyung!” you whined instead, “I need you.”

Taehyung scoffed lightly as a pleased smirk marked his lips. He ripped the purple gloves off, flinging them onto the side table. 

“Will you let me eat you out, Y/N?” he asked. “I’ve been dreaming of it ever since I saw those snaps on your private story for your 21st birthday.”

Your brows furrowed. For your birthday your friends and you had gone down to Cabo since it was close to spring break. You hadn’t even realized Taehyung was on your private story. Your brother Jimin certainly wasn’t. You had posted everything from videos of you skinny dipping with your friends in the hot tub, to full length mirror selfies of every itty bitty neon colored bikini you had worn on the trip. 

“I’ve had fantasies about you too,” you admitted as Taehyung’s hands slid down your waist to hug your hips, fingers digging into your charcoal gray leggings, ready to pull them off. 

He looked at you curiously, “Since when? Was I your sexual awakening?” he teased, his cheeks full in his joy. You wanted to bite those bread cheeks but you controlled the impulse.

“Hardly,” you retorted, “I was dreaming about Min Yoongi before I ever thought of you. But he graduated and went away for university. And you had that wavy silver brown hair. You looked so hot in your old school hiphop outfit you’d worn for Halloween senior year.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes, “I was always hot, Y/N. It’s cute of you to deny it. But wow headbands really do it for you huh? Is that why you ran up to your room when we started watching It? I thought it was because you were scared. Had I known that you were sneaking away to shove your hand in your panties–” he trailed off.

“You would have what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Taehyung hit your hip lightly with his fingers, more tap than slap, making you lift your bottom so that he could drag the dark colored athletic fabric down your legs. 

“Why don’t I show you?” Taehyung said. 

With your leggings down to one of your ankles, completely off of the other, Taehyung took a hold of your thighs, swinging your legs around so they hung over the side of the platform you were seated on. You were facing him now, but he was so tall that even with the small boost your seat offered, you were eye level with him. He slid back the stool he was on, moving it out of the way. Then he sank to his knees so that his head was at the perfect height for the treasure that laid between your slightly parted thighs. 

With his left hand still grasping one of your thighs, he used his other hand to prod at your folds over the drenched fabric of your black seamless panties. His forefinger and middle finger stroked at your opening, hunting for your clit, slipping over the sodden fabric over and over. When you were so wet that his fingers went away, picking up enough evidence of your arousal that a transparent string clung to him before finally breaking off, Taehyung decided to move the panty off to the side, revealing the swollen dripping folds of your cunt to him. 

“You’re so pretty, gorgeous,” he sighed, “I want to feast on you.”

His fingers were curiously spreading you even more, parting the furling petals to your entrance, revealing the pretty wet hole to his hot seeking gaze as it desperately clenched around air, wanting something bigger and more substantial to close around.

“Taehyung please,” you pleaded, your fingers knotting into his unruly hair, as you attempted to move his head closer to your cunt.

Taehyung dipped down, his lips pursed at first, almost like he was kissing you down there, but he soon found his pace, tongue wildly thrusting into the hole and gliding over the folds. As he lapped at your entrance, he hummed in pleasure, rejoicing in the sweet poignant taste of you. 

As his tongue ran over your folds and the engorged bud of your clit, you shuddered and trembled. It had been so long since someone had eaten you out. You had been broken up with Donghyuk for two months, but it had been even longer since the last time he had gone down on you. 

He tongued at you curling the tip of his wet muscle to urge more of your juices into his open mouth. You tasted like heaven, “You’re so fucking sweet,” he furiously growled into you, his baritone sending vibrations through your most sensitive part. “I love your reactions. I could eat you out for hours,” he hissed.

When his teeth nipped at the sensitive bundle of nerves, you cried out his name, babbling senselessly, mad with pleasure. He wrapped his lips around it, sucking tightly at the bud. Your eyes rolled back at the pressure, the stimulation almost unbearable. You felt the prodding of two long fingers invading your entrance even as his lips continued its merciless assault on the swollen bud. 

“Taehyung!” you panted. Your fingers were almost digging into his scalp. “I can’t stand this!!”

Your back arched as he scissored his fingers furiously within you. His teeth and tongue were sloppily pursuing their war on your heated and engorged clit.

“That’s it Y/N,” murmured Taehyung huskily, “Give yourself to me.”

His fingers reached deep within you, dragging against your folds that gripped around it like a vise, clenching and unclenching in stuttered movements. He groaned at the tightness, the vibrations of the sound echoing through your opening, your clit fluttering at the stimulus.

“Another finger,” you susurrated, your words chased by loud keens and moans.

“Yeah?” Taehyung breathed out, “You think you can take that? I can barely even move the two I have in you now. Your pussy is clenching around me so much.”

“Want it Tae. Need it,” you babbled, “Need to prep for that big cock you’re hiding.”

Taehyung exhaled loudly through his nose, the gust of air falling over your oversensitized core. “Yeah, you dirty girl? You wanna prep for my fat cock? You need it,” he admitted. “I’m gonna destroy your tight little cunt,” He growled.

With another nip of your clit, this one harsher and more toothy, he stuffed a third finger in you, frantically pumping them and curling them to drag against the taunt muscles of your inner walls. The appendages were stretching you out gloriously. You closed your eyes as you edged head first towards your orgasm. Taehyung’s tongue danced over your folds, stimulating them even further. 

He breathed through his nose as he ate you out even more enthusiastically; he had been going at this for a long time but it would be worth it. His cock was a hard and heavy weight against the confines of his constricting dark jeans. You whimpered, lightheaded and overheated as the pressure at your core continued to build. You were stuffed to the brim with his nimble slender fingers pushing savagely in you. 

All it took was a swipe of his long tongue over your bud, the metal sphere of his piercing a hard heaviness digging into your clit, as his fingers found your g-spot and hit it brutally, and you let out a shrill scream, immediately gushing like a flooding waterfall. There were black dots in your vision as the edges of your eyes gathered with tears. You panted as you continued to squirt over Taehyung’s trapped fingers, drenching his hand with the evidence of your orgasm then trailing down his wrist. 

“Fuck,” swore Taehyung, “You fucking squirted. That’s so hot, gorgeous.”

He reluctantly moved his hand away from you, licking a wide stripe across his palm, tasting your sweetness, still not tired of your delectable release. What he didn’t consume, he wiped against the butcher paper covering where you were seated. You had your hands splayed besides your thighs, needing help to keep yourself upright. Your gaze drifted down to your crotch where the paper was sopping wet, dark, and translucent from where you had squirted all over it. 

This was why you never had sex in public; you were already getting a headache at the thought of Taehyung having to clean up and sanitize everything before his next appointment.

“Hey what’s wrong?” asked Taehyung, getting up from his knees. His hand went to his belt, unbuckling the black leather and loosening it around his hips. He undid his button and zipped open his fly, finally freeing his aching hard cock from the confines it had been resisting against.

You stared at his erection, pressing against the band of his underwear. “Is this really okay?” you asked.

“Going soft on me so fast?” Taehyung teased, “Thought you were gonna prove to Dongkyung that you were fun and freaky. I bet he’s never had sex outside of the bedroom.”

“No,” you protested, “I still want to. I just– I just wanted to make sure you were still okay with this.”

“Oh,” murmured Taehyung with a ravenous glint in his eyes, “I’m thrilled about this. I want to destroy you in a way that has you limping after. I want your pussy to have PDD, never wanting another cock.”

“PDD?” you asked, repeating the acronym with confusion heavy in your tone.

“Post-Dicking Depression,” Taehyung clarified with a faux condescending tone. You could hear the laughter in his voice that he tried to keep in.

“I don’t know if I want to have sex with a man who refers to it as me getting dicked down,” you scoffed, wiggling your butt backwards to move away from Taehyung who scowled and quickly moved his hands from his pants to your hips, holding you in place.

“But you want a dicking from me,” he sing-sang, “You used to have fantasies about me.”

“I used to have fantasies about Flynn Rider, that means nothing,” you retorted, your hands placed over his.

He narrowed his eyes, “That says less about me and more about you, gorgeous.”

He palmed his heavy cock through the cotton fabric of his briefs. 

“You sure you wanna stop right here, Y/N? Don’t wanna go for another orgasm?”

“I can’t leave you hanging,” you acquiesced easily, “Golden rule of reciprocation and all that.”

“You don’t always have to give back what you get in sex,” Taehyung frowned, “It’s not a business transaction, it’s a group effort. As long as we both enjoy ourselves, you don’t have to worry about me, Y/N.”

“You don’t want to have me?” you asked, suddenly self-conscious, “You seemed really enthusiastic about it earlier.”

“I’m dying to have you, but I only want you if you want me,” Taehyung clarified, his baritone wafting into your ears soothingly.

You smiled up at him, even though you were naked in this room that might have his assistant or coworkers knocking at any moment, even though he was completely dressed while you were not, you still felt comfortable with Taehyung. You put your fingers through the belt loops of his partially opened jeans, dragging it down his hips, over his ass, stopping midway on his thighs. Taehyung watched you, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard with the heat of his lust, thick dark brows furrowed as he bit his lips.

“Please, Tae?” you asked, “I want you. I want the heavy fucking that has me walking side to side afterwards.”

Taehyung snorted, “‘4.5 when I make the bed shake,’ huh.”

“Ariana is a legend,” you gasped, outraged at his little quip, your hands falling from where they had been clutching his ass. 

Taehyung just gave you one of his gorgeous boxy smiles that left you breathless before he went to free his fat cock from the cotton confines of his underwear. His cock bounced once it was free from its bounds, his length even more thick and imposing than you had imagined when you were sixteen, slipping your fingers down your throat and choking on them, pretending they were his dick instead. 

It was impressively girthy and you knew your fingers wouldn’t be able to wrap around it and touch at the ends. The mushroom head was flushed burgundy. The seventh piercing winked at you, a curved steel barbell turned towards you as a part of his king’s crown piercing that was threaded through his head, running along the ridge of his shaft. Your mouth watered - the tip of his cock was glistening with precum and you wanted to whirl your tongue around its bulbous head like it was the tastiest lollipop. 

“Taehyung,” you pleaded, your fingers going towards his crotch. 

Taehyung gently slapped your hands away. 

“Uh uh,” he chastised. “Behave, gorgeous.”

You spread your thighs apart, knees up and feet flat in front of you as you sat up with your hands wrapped around your calves, holding your legs open. Taehyung took hold of the meaty softness of your right thigh and pulled you towards him, settling in between you, his cock bouncing lightly, the tip brushing against your entrance as he used his hands to pull your legs around him. Your hands let go and fell backwards and you splayed your fingers and palms behind you to balance your weight as Taehyung carefully situated your lower half, pulling your hips up to be aligned with his so that he could easily slip in and out of you.

He slapped your flushed and swollen cunt with his cock, the proof of your orgasm mixing with his precum. After a few slaps, he finally began to guide his shaft into you. For a moment there you didn’t think the fat bulbous head would be able to breach your entrance even with how wet you were as your tight glistening hole protested around it, but a firm push later he was sheathed. 

“You like that, gorgeous?” he growled, “You feel that? You’re gonna wring me dry when I cum inside, aren’t you? Gonna creampie this fucking pussy. Have your beat up cunt leaking my cum for hours.”

You whimpered as your mouth sought Taehyung’s lips but couldn’t. Instead you found your tongue licking up a line up the bare expanse of his neck, tracing the lines of his tattoos, your lips following their path, leaving bruising kisses and kittenish bites. He moaned and his head ducked down, moving his throat away from you so that you could finally kiss him. At first your tongues twirled around each other, but Taehyung was a messy kisser. His teeth were soon nipping at your lips and his tongue was thrusting in your mouth, licking the insides of your cheeks, the roof of your mouth, not letting you pull away to breath and leaving you lightheaded. 

Taehyung slowly pushed himself in and out, not going more than an inch or two within you, giving you time to get used to the fullness. He was so thick, your walls were clamping around his girthy length like a vise and he was struggling to move, but the movement he was able to make had you keening and whimpering as the round ends of his piercing jewelry dragged against the ridged muscles of your walls, making them spasm uncontrollably at the feeling. 

As you grew wetter and wetter, your desperation increasing exponentially, Taehyung found himself getting lost at the sensations, thrusting faster and more erratically until his control was so frayed that he could no longer hold himself back. He slammed into you, the thick heaviness of his cock stealing your breath away as he was impaled within you. You tried to catch your breath but he continued to jerk inside you, the piercing hitting your g-spot and making you scream as white spots appeared in your vision. 

His pace then grew progressively more frantic and Taehyung found himself holding you up with his sheer strength which left you breathless at the display of power; you were no longer on the table, he was fucking you standing up. Your legs were wrapped around his hips and your head was at the side of his face, pressing kisses against his jaw and nibbling up to his ear. Your moans were an echoing throaty vocalization in his ears, making them burn as a pool of lust gathered in his gut and made his abdomen tighten. Meanwhile, your hands were flitting across the expanse of his back, under his shirt, leaving long scratch marks in their wake as your nails dug into his skin every time Taehyung thrusted a little too hard, his fingers pinched your clit, or his piercing found that glorious g-spot.

“God, Tae,” you panted. You could feel him so deep inside you that as you glanced down you saw that your tummy was bulging a little bit and you had to wonder if it was because of him. You pressed down on your stomach experimentally and then you both gasped as your walls clenched tightly around him, rhythmically pulsating around the entire length of his shaft, keeping him connected to you. 

Taehyung hadn’t forgotten your tiny clit, although it was swollen and not as little now. He thumbed at the responsive bundle of nerves; the pressure from his finger had you on overdrive, hyper aware and feeling like you might go ballistic at any moment. Your mewls were like music to his ears and propelled him forward, making him plunge into you so violently. You were bouncing on his length, your legs loosening slightly around his hips from the force that came with every time he rammed into you.

For your safety, he lowered you down to the table you had been sitting on earlier, making your back flat against it as he had one hand by your head holding him up, keeping himself from crashing into you, and one hand wrapped around your hip, snapping it up to meet his every thrust. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper and he found himself slowing down to enjoy the feeling of your folds fluttering around his shaft as he dragged it through your walls deliberately, penetrating you acutely. 

He was holding himself back, he didn’t want this moment to end but at your surprised cry when one of those thrusts hit your g-spot particularly hard, you suddenly gushed like a broken faucet around him, and then clenched his cock tighter than you had ever before, even as the stream of cum cascaded all around his shaft. He grunted before following you in your wake, the heat of his own release leaking out of his tip and mixing with yours. 

Somehow Taehyung was still hard around you, you noticed with surprise as your legs fell with no strength left in them, no longer making your body cling to Taehyung’s. You stared at him in confusion, your eyes wordlessly saying, What now?

Taehyung licked his lips, his familiar grin appearing sheepishly. “Ride me, gorgeous,” he dictated.

He hadn’t let you remove his cock from inside your pussy and he picked you up, holding you beneath your thighs, his fingers brushing against the cleft of your ass as he moved you two around so that he was now seated with you on top of him. 

One of your hands fluttered against his chest as you got used to sitting on him, the other was holding onto his shoulder. You inhaled deeply, your hands going up to stop his head from moving so that you could kiss him punishingly, neither of you parting to breath for long interminable moments. His fingers threaded through your hair that had long since fallen out of its bun, holding you in place, so that his lips could chase yours easily every time you tried to break apart from him.

He helped you with the first move, his hands gripping your hips and his long fingers dimpling into your skin as he moved you up, almost entirely off his cock that dragged enticingly along your folds as it slipped away, before slamming you back on his lap with enough force to have your teeth knocking against each other. 

You braced yourself with your palms on his chest, fingers curving over the broad length of his shoulders, slowly lifting yourself away from his dick before quickly and forcefully bringing your ass down, reluctant to let him withdraw completely. Each time you brought yourself back onto his cock, Taehyung snapped his hips up, impaling you with his thick impressive length. His fingers were bruising into your hips with how hard he was holding you in place. 

Your movements were erratic and feverish, following no rhyme or reason, only seeking fullness and release. He had you writhing on top of him wantonly as your hips swiveled to meet each snap of his, until his cock was hitting you again and again vigorously. But it wasn’t enough; he wanted to give you more. So Taehyung found himself squeezing two fingers into you alongside his cock, filling you even more than you had thought was possible, bordering on the side of painful. His palm was positioned up so that it was pressed against your clit. And with every bounce and jerk on top of him that had his cock and fingers moving deeper within you, his palm pressed against your puffy bud stimulating you endlessly. 

You screamed as you sprayed around Taehyung, coming again. As you writhed against Taehyung’s body, his arms kept you wrapped in his embrace, keeping you from injuring yourself, pulling any muscles accidentally. Your cunt was reluctant to release its grip on Taehyung’s cock, holding onto him tightly, and he found himself grabbing your hand, borrowing it for a second to have you squeeze his balls. And then Taehyung felt himself cum for the second time that day. He shuddered into your chest as his balls emptied themselves, getting lighter as streams of his warm cum shot into you, painting your insides with lines of white. 

You mewled at the feeling, wiggling on top of Taehyung in discomfort. He chuckled huskily, an airy yet throaty sound. Carefully, he withdrew from you, using one of his hands to keep the cum from pouring out from between your legs, his palm against your entrance keeping the hot liquid trapped inside you. After a moment he moved his palm away so that his fingers could play around in your folds, pushing the cum into every divot and crevice, the pads of his fingers massaging it in and then his fingers went back inside you, swirling the cum around your hole with his fingers messily. You let him play around, rubbing his mark into you even though it was fucking filthy and gross, but when his fingers brushed too close to your battered clit, your inner thighs spasmed with your muscles jumping, you found your hand frantically pulling at his wrists attempting to pull him away from your exhausted and overworked pussy.

“Taehyung, stop!” you whined. 

He glanced back at you sheepishly. “Sorry,” he murmured, an apologetic tone painting his words, “I got distracted.”

You snorted, “Yeah, you did.”

Taehyung pulled you off his lap and sat you down beside him, from in between your parted thighs, your pussy leaked out the mixture of both of your cum out onto the ripped and mangled butcher paper that looked as though it had gone through the wringer. Taehyung stood up to grab a bundle of paper towels from his work station and came back with them, bending down in front of you and starting to clean you up. Once he was done, he looked back up at you.

“I’ll give you back your deposit, Y/N. Don’t get the piercings today, okay?” he said, “And when you finally feel like you’re ready to modify your body for the right reasons, you can come back here and I’ll do it for free. A piercing, a tattoo, whatever the case. Just– just don’t think you have to change for a man. You are perfect as long as you like who you are.”

Your eyebrows dipped down in confusion as Taehyung stumbled over his words, painstakingly attempting to make sure that you understood him and realized that he liked you and you should like yourself too because you were perfect and no man was worthy enough to make you change. 

“Why for free, Taehyung?” you asked instead, uncomfortable at his sincerity.

Taehyung smiled nervously, “Well if you’re dating the owner, it’s the least I can do. Don’t you think so?”

“Who says we’re dating?” you teased, pulling him closer to you, making him stand between your legs.

Taehyung pouted and then huffily said, “Fine, have it your way. See if anyone in the Tri-State area takes you as a client then. I’m getting you blacklisted from everywhere so Jimin doesn’t kill me when he finds out you want to look like Post Malone.”

“Post Malone?” you questioned, laughing uncontrollably. “Taehyung, why would you offer to help me if Jimin would kill you instead of those other tattoo artists?”

“Girlfriends hold more weight than best friends,” he said mulishly, slumping forward and resting his forehead against your sternum.

“Yeah?” you asked, quilting your fingers through his hair, scratching at his head comfortingly.

“I’m also in love with you,” Taehyung confessed, turning his head so his ear rested against your chest. He could hear your heartbeat, you realized with a panic, and how it stuttered at his reveal. But his arms had slowly wrapped themselves around your form and you couldn’t find it within you to push him away.

“Really?” you asked needily, needing the confirmation.

He hummed, “I would do anything for you.”

“I think I’ve been in love with you too,” you admitted as well. You suddenly shoved against him. “It was you,” you accused.

“Hmm,” muttered Taehyung, instantly knowing what you had meant, “I can’t help it if I’m beautiful and you kept fantasizing about me while dating Dongbyun.”

“Tae!”

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution - Non Commercial - No Derivatives 4.0 International License

©OPALJM 2021

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[ppersonna]

tempestuous - kth | m

tem·pes·tu·ous - adjective - characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion

↳ summary- There’s no one who riles you up more than Kim Taehyung, your best friend’s brother.  He knows exactly how to make you fly off the handle.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 6.8k

↳ pairing- taehyung x reader

↳ genre- smut, minor angst i guess in the form of fighting, this is one big pile of smut, there’s some fluff too

↳ warnings- yikes where to begin.  angry sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don’t be like dis), slapping, spanking, pain kink, dom/sub elements, facefucking, really rough sex, finger sucking, derogatory names, uhhh name calling, hate sex, tae is fuckin nasty yall im thriving

↳ a/n- I HAD TO REUPLOAD bc tumblr sucks lol well folks. here we are.  i was given a prompt by @ladyartemesia​ so i blame her.  as for tae, he really came for me this week and completely wrecked me, love that for me. i really popped off here and it’s only edited by me so i’m SORRY if there’s a lot of mistakes.  fun fact i actually wrote almost 10k of another version of this but it frustrated me so badly i scrapped it lmao  🤡 HERE WE GO! Enjoy!  feel free to send in your requests and i promise to try and get it done for you! 

Kim Taehyung could only be described in a few words.

Infuriating, bothersome, vexing.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, suave.

Absolutely, inherently maddening.

And you hate how much you absolutely melt underneath his gaze, the way your heart leaps into your throat with a single word.  Your body, the ultimate betrayer, opens up to him as your brain screams to abort, reverse, go back to start and do not pass go.

Kim Taehyung is not just the bane of your existence, no.  He’s the little brother of your best friend, Kim Namjoon.   Joonie had been in your life since you were in first grade and he in second.  Taehyung was your age, but you hit it off with the older boy and haven’t separated since.  Your mothers joked that you would get married one day and continue on the Kim line.  Until they found out that Namjoon was 1) bisexual and 2) hopelessly in love with, ironically, a man named Kim Seokjin.   He reasoned to his parents that they would at least carry on the Kim name.  

Where Namjoon was sweet, caring, and deeply compassionate towards you, Taehyung was his alter.  Taehyung was brash, cocky and relished in watching you squirm, whether it be out of fury or the god forsaken sexual tension.  All growing up, he was the one to pull your pigtails, trip you into puddles of mud, and tease you in front of your friends. Namjoon, ever the faithful companion, was always there to pick up the pieces of what Taehyung broke.

It’s been that way with Taehyung ever since. A constant tug of war with each other, both unwilling to give a single inch to the opponent.  

Your relationship with Namjoon remained steadfast as ever.  Namjoon eventually moved in with his now-husband, Seokjin, who easily settled into your life as an additional partner in crime.  You spent most of your days and nights settled into the couch, snuggled somehow in between or next to one of the two men you cherished most.  You had the two best friends you could ask for and a happy life, blissfully Taehyung-free.

Until it wasn’t.

A loud knock wakes you from an unexpected nap on Namjoon’s couch.  Your eyes crack open against the glare of the sunlight streaming through the windows.  It takes a moment to gather your surroundings.  You recognize that you’re in Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, and judging by the silence, you’re definitely alone there.  As you reach for your phone, the screen lights up the time.  5:34 pm.  Well, shit. You remember eating brunch and drinking mimosas at noon with your best friends and then lying on the couch to watch Netflix.  How had you fallen asleep for five hours?  How did you not wake? What the fuck did Jin put in his mimosas?

The knock is insistent again, louder this time.

“Joon! Jin! it’s me! Open up!”

The voice sounds familiar in your sleep-addled mind, but not quite enough to pinpoint it.   You push your limp body off the couch and wince at the feeling of sore muscles.  Couch sleeping isn’t all it’s cracked up to be once you’re past the age of 25.

“Sorry, Namjoon isn’t here-,” You open the door to explain to the guest and you’re cut off.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You rub at your sleepy eyes and allow your vision to focus, only to feel your blood stand still in your veins.

Kim Taehyung.  Of fucking course.

“What do you mean, why am I here? I’m always here,” you tut as you fold your arms to your chest.  “What are you doing here?”

He rolls his eyes and holds up his hands, two suitcases clutched in each.  Who the fuck carries 4 suitcases up three flights of stairs? Kim annoying ass Taehyung does, apparently.

“I’m moving in.”  He pushes past you and into the living room.  

Your mouth gapes open.  Namjoon certainly didn’t tell you this.  Taehyung looks back at chuckles at your reaction.

“I’m guessing your best friend didn’t tell you the happy news?”

You shut your mouth, quickly jumping back into composure.  “No, he failed to mention that,” you sniff.  “I thought you lived with your girlfriend in Gangnam?  What was her name? Rose or whatever?”

Tae stiffens, just slightly for a moment, before he plasters back on the bravado.  “Obviously not anymore.  We broke up, she kept the apartment.  Got tired of moping at my mom’s house and I told Namjoon I wanted to come back to the city.”

You feel a slight tug at your stomach, guilt, perhaps?  You clear your throat.  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He laughs as he sits on the couch, instantly throwing his feet onto the coffee table, like a heathen.  “No, you’re not.”  

“What do you mean, no I’m not? God, sorry for being polite!”

This, you reason, is why you can’t sustain longer than 5 minutes of civilized conversation with your best friend’s younger brother.  He’s impossible.

He just smirks, and you know he loves the rise he gets out of you.

“Because I know you, and I know you don’t give a fuck about my love life.”

Au contraire. If only he knew just how much you gave a fuck.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be nice to you!” you nearly stamp your foot in frustration but hold yourself back. That would be too good of ammo for him to use against you.

“Okay, fine,” he acquiesces. “Whatever helps you feel you’re a good person.”

You’re seeing red and you know you want to continue screaming at him but you will not stoop to his level.

“Christ, I haven’t seen you in months and you’re still an asshole,” you say as you grab your keys and shoes. “And also, Jin will kill you if he sees your feet on his coffee table.”

You whip yourself around and open the door to leave and hear him call over your shoulder.

“Good to see you too, doll! Love the hairstyle, by the way.”

You close the door with a growl leaving your throat.  The absolute audacity of that man.

You stomp towards the elevator to take yourself to the ground level, when you catch your reflection in the shiny metal. Your hair is in what you can only lovingly call a complete hornet’s nest. It’s ratted and sticking out in places and you feel your cheeks burn.  Your first reintroduction with Taehyung is with a fight AND with you looking like a fool.

This would not do. No, sir.

“Kim Namjoon!” you shriek into your cell phone.  You’re awkwardly pressing it against your ear with your shoulder as you walk out of the convenience store under your apartment building with 3 bottles of soju and a six-pack of beer. You needed to drown your shame and sorrow, and fast.

“Hello, love of my life and moon of my stars,” your best friend replies and you can hear Seokjin chuckle in the background.

“No!” You chide, already cracking a beer open as you storm into your apartment building. “Don’t you Khal Drogo me, mister! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me your fucking asshole brother was moving in with you?!”

Namjoon is silent and you can tell he’s wincing on the other end of the phone. “Oops?” He offers.

“Yeah, big oops! A heads up would have been nice! Like, ‘hey best friend, your worst enemy of all time is moving in today. Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep on my couch and wake up looking like Frankenstein’s ugly wife. Oh, and also my handsome boyfriend and I will just happen to not be there when he arrives’.”

By this time, you can tell Namjoon has put you on speakerphone because you can hear their rich laughter loud and clear. Rude bitches.

You stab your key code into your door and lock yourself in, chugging as much of the beer as you could handle.

“At least, even in her rants she thinks I’m handsome,” Jin gloats.

“I’m sorry babe,” Namjoon sighs as he finally calms down. “I didn’t know he would be there today. I just found out about it last night.”

You nibbled at your bottom lip, the annoying pit in your stomach feeling simultaneously guilty that he went through a breakup, unbridled joy that something brought him down a peg, and just a dash of excitement that he’s single now.

You let out a breath. “It’s okay, Joon.  It just surprised me to see him.”

Jin butts in, “And because you have a big, fat, unresolved crush on him.”

“Jin!” You admonish. The couple laughs again and you roll your eyes, asking yourself why you put up with the two. “I do not!”

They both hum a non-committal answer, implying they don’t believe you in the slightest.

“Whatever.  What are you guys doing, anyway?”

“We just got home from shopping.  God, Jin looked so good in these jeans he tried on.  I was actually just about to suck his coc-,”

“Kim Namjoon, do not finish that sentence! I do not wish to hear it!” You try to remain firm, but dissolve into giggles with the pair.

You could never stay mad at Namjoon long, even if his brother was the devil incarnate.

“Darling,” Jin calls through the phone.  “I still expect to see you at our place tonight for our sleepover.”

Christ, you had forgotten all about your scheduled sleepover night.  It was tradition and one of your favorite parts of your friendship with the couple.  Jin, a literal chef, prepared a five star meal along with dessert for you while you binge watched Netflix and talked incessantly.

But you also usually slept in their spare bedroom.  The exact one that Taehyung would be occupying.

“Fuck, while he’s there?”

“Oh suck it up,” Jin chides, like he’s your mother. “He’s probably not even going to leave his room.  You’re not getting out of this.  I’m making strawberry cheesecake.”

Your mouth waters at the idea of Jin’s famous cheesecake.  

“Fine, but I get to lick the bowl and not Namjoon.  Those are my terms.”

Namjoon squawked in defiance as Jin laughed.  “I agree to your terms.  Be at our place by 8.”

As you hung up the phone, you checked the time.  6:40.  God, he hadn’t left you with much time to get ready, did he?

And you definitely needed to get ready.  There was no way you were entering a room where Kim Taehyung exists looking like booboo the fool, not again.

Your fingers press the 6 digit passcode to Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, arms heavy laden with your bag of toiletries and pajamas, and a bag full of wine.

“Honey, I’m home!” You announce as you toe off your shoes and slide into the combined kitchen and living room.

You receive no reply, but greeted with the amused face of none other than the object of your filthiest dreams, Taehyung.

“Pet names already?  We’re moving pretty fast, wouldn’t you say?” He asks you as he lounges at the kitchen table.  He watches you open the fridge to set the wine, as comfortable in their home as you are in yours.

“Fuck off,” you grumble. “Where’s your brother?”

Tae seemed absolutely tickled by your disgruntlement.  “I think they mentioned something about taking a shower.  That was 20 minutes ago, though.”

“Great,” you sigh. “Those fucking horn dogs act as if they’re still newlyweds.  We’ll be waiting awhile.”  

You tug off your sweater, leaving you to remain in a fitted tank top and yoga pants.  You tried to maintain a comfortable look as you dressed for the evening, while keeping in mind which leggings hugged your ass and showed off your toned thighs, and a tank top that dipped low to your cleavage.  Okay, so maybe you had ulterior motives. You wanted to make up for your dreadful appearance earlier and make him squirm, payback for the years of him doing it to you.

You watch him as he lets his eyes roam your body, eying you like he wants to ravage you completely. You feel victorious… and also turned on. Fuck, you played yourself.

You flop onto the couch in a huff and Tae snorts before joining you.

“What’s so funny?” You eye him suspiciously.

“Nothing,” his smile feigns innocence. “I’m not allowed to laugh?”

You sniff in annoyance, not eager to fall for his tricks. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want, your highness.”  Sarcasm drips from your voice and Tae finds it even more humorous.

“I see you’re still a sassy bitch.”

You gasp, audibly startled by his language and rise from the couch, fists clenched.

“I see you’re still a conceited dick!”

He rises to meet you where you stand, eyes boring into your own with his stupid sexy grin on his face.  “I see you’re still not one to back down from a fight.”

You step closer, close enough to feel his breath on your face.  Idly, you note it smells like peppermint and you move closer on reflex.

“Yeah? I see you’re still not one to avoid starting a fight in the first place!” you huff.

“Oh, I started it?”  

“Yeah, you started it! You called me a bitch!”

You can’t believe this is happening.  You feel as if you’re 6 again and fighting with him over a toy.

“A sassy bitch, actually,” he corrects, taking another step forward, bodies touching.

“Fuck you!”

“Only if you say please,” he quips before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours in a scorching hot kiss.

There’s not even a moment of hesitation on your end, immediately pulling him even closer and wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing his tongue entrance to your mouth.  Your body reacts to his instantly, as if it’s wired to respond to him and him only. Your mind was blank of anything except Tae, only Tae please, and you acted purely on instinct alone.  And instinct was pulling him closer and begging, more, anything he could give.

The sound of laughter coming from the hallway pulls you apart, neither of you wanting to get caught by Namjoon or Jin.  You stare at him, his lips are cherry red and slightly swollen and the image burns into your retinas.  He has such pretty lips after you’ve kissed him.

“Oh hey! What’s going on here?” Namjoon asks as he notices the intense eye-battle you’re engaged in with his younger brother.

It shakes you out of the spell, eye contact broken and hypnosis halted.  

“Just, errrr,” you falter to find the right words to explain the situation.

“Just getting reacquainted.”  Tae sounds completely unaffected, as if the passionate kiss you shared with him seconds ago was but a distant memory.  Asshole.

“I’m surprised you two haven’t thrown anything at each other yet,” Jin laughs. “Or thrown yourselves at each other.”

Both you and Taehyung whip to look directly at Jin.

“Her!?” Tae is incredulous. “Gross.”

You’ll never admit out loud that his words wound you.

“You’re an asshole, Taehyung,” you punctuate your words by turning away from him and towards Namjoon, who appears amused as ever.

“Ah, I love when my best friend and my little brother are screaming at each other.  Feels like old times.  Can one of you cry now to complete the moment?”

Taehyung grumbles under his breath, something you can’t catch, and stalks off to his room.  The slam of his door reverberates in the apartment and Jin jumps and turns to yell down the hall at his brother-in-law.

“Yah! Don’t break my apartment! I still owe money on this!”

Despite Taehyung’s appearance every so often in the kitchen or living room, the rest of the night goes on with no annoying disturbances.

Jin spoils you and his husband with expensive food, and the best cheesecake you’ve ever eaten in your life.  Plus, you’re given the bowl to lick clean despite a desperately adorable pout from Namjoon you were sure would persuade Jin.

You’re settled on the couch, snuggling in the middle of the couple as an action movie flickers across the big screen tv.  Truthfully, you haven’t paid attention to a single thing happening, your thoughts entirely too absorbed in Taehyung and that deliciously infuriating kiss.  

Why did he do it?  You couldn’t comprehend his reasoning.  Perhaps he was doing it to piss you off.  He’s never angered you with that level of intimacy before, but you didn’t put it past him.

You’re surprised when the credits of the movie start rolling and Jin and Namjoon fake loud yawns.

“Oh man, I’m beat,” Namjoon lies.

Jin is quick to join. “Me too, I think I’ll pass out the moment I hit the pillow.”

You roll your eyes at the men. “Will you two please go fuck already, I know that’s what you’re going to do.”

Namjoon blanches, but Jin laughs and kisses your cheek. “Ah, my smart, beautiful and chaotic child,” he coos. He leans in to your ear, voice low to keep his husband from listening. “I don’t think I’m the only one in this house who’s going to get pounded into a mattress.”  

He pulls back and winks at you, deftly ignores Namjoon’s confusion and sadness of being left out, and drags him to their bedroom with a loud ‘goodnight’.

You’re left to stew in your own emotions, which is never a good thing.  Was the tension that obvious? You always assumed it had been one-sided, but the kiss befuddled you more than you’d like to admit.

It finally snapped in your mind, all the dots connecting. That’s why he did it.  

He kissed you so you’d stew and simmer and eventually erupt, like you’re doing now.  Taehyung knows you too well for your comfort.

You grab your bag of clothes and storm towards the bathroom to change, promising yourself to forget about the kiss and not give Taehyung what he wants.

Except you’re not very good at promises, especially to yourself.

You can’t say you’re excited to sleep on the couch again.  While it’s a nice couch, it’s definitely not a bed and your back will pay the price tomorrow.  You supposed it was better than the floor, but not by much.

After dressing in your pajamas, a purposefully picked out combination of tiny shorts and a sports bra in case Taehyung happens upon you, you return to your bed for the night in the living room.

Namjoon graciously left blankets and a pillow out for you, and you’re complaining internally about Taehyung the whole time you make yourself a spot to sleep.  If it wasn’t for stupid Taehyung and his stupid existence, you’d be sleeping like a baby on the guest bed that you loved.  But no, they relegated you to the couch like an animal.

Sleep was not in the cards tonight, it seems.  You toss and turn and try to press at the cushions to move a lump around and get comfortable, but it’s all for naught.  You’re wide awake and very, very uncomfortable.  You didn’t understand how you fell asleep on this very couch earlier in the day.  Maybe the mimosas you had at brunch with the couple had been helpful.

A thought crosses your mind. Alcohol.  Maybe a nice glass of wine would help tuck you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.  A nightcap. Of course.  You were angry at yourself for not thinking of it hours ago.  

You slipped out of your disagreeable bed and into the kitchen, trying not to make a sound.  Jin’s beloved kitchen was also an echo chamber of noise, even the slightest sound bouncing off its walls and amplifying it through the whole house.  You still remember the way you jumped five feet in the air when Jin accidentally broke a plate.  It sounded like a bomb explosion.

You bite your lip as you carefully pry the cabinet of wine glasses open, careful to not even allow a squeak of a hinge.  You silently beg to stay silent and not wake anyone in the house.  You didn’t want to be caught drinking wine at 2 am in the dark, that’s difficult to explain without looking like an alcoholic.

With glass in hand, you tiptoe the fridge to pull out the bottle of merlot, thinking the heavy red wine would be the best to get you sleepy and quick.  

You tug the cork from the bottle and pour a healthy amount into the stemware with a smile.  Liquid sleep.  And you had done it without making a single sound. Perfection. The smell of the alcohol permeates through your nose as you lift the glass, placing it to your lips to take a sip.

“Wine at this hour?” the unexpected voice of Taehyung echos through the kitchen, making you yelp and jolting you hard enough that you drop the hard-earned glass of wine to the tile floor, red wine splashing as the sound of glass shattering is reverberating off the walls.

“Fuck!” You screech at the intruder.  Taehyung doubles over, laughing as if he’s seen nothing funnier than what just transpired.  “You asshole!”

You listen past Taehyung’s incessant laughter to ensure the owners of the apartment hadn’t awoken during the ruckus. You definitely did not want to face a tired and agitated Jin to tell him you shattered one of his Tiffany crystal goblets.

Beyond Tae, the house is silent and you’re thanking whatever god is listening for keeping your best friends asleep.

The wine is everywhere, spilling into the cracks of the tile and splattered on the walls.  The crystal stemware is too; it shattered with such force that you see flecks of the shrapnel in all four corners of the room.

Tae wipes a tear from his face and you square a tempestuous look at him.  

“Fucking help me!  You made me drop it!”

Through snorts, he replies. “I didn’t make you do anything.  You did that on your own.”  Although he is arguing with you, he’s gingerly stepping into the kitchen and kneeling to pick up shards of glass.

“I wouldn’t have dropped it if you had come into the room like a fucking normal person,” you grit.

He collects the glass, the delighted grin on his face now permanent.  He’s relishing in your annoyance, you know he is, and it burns you from the inside out.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me.”

“You could have turned on the light! Why were you in the dark like a freak?”  You’re grasping at straws, anything to pin this all on him.  It would quell the fire in your belly to push it all onto him, make you feel as if you’ve won.

Taehyung levels a look at you.  “And you weren’t also in the dark? Pouring a gallon of wine for yourself?”

Your cheeks flare red. Fuck, he definitely caught you there.  You’re playing verbal poker with him and the hand you’re dealt falls flat compared to his royal flush.  He grins, knowing he has you.

“Fuck you,” you snark, you go to insult when you’re backed into a corner.

“Ah, doll,” he winks.  “We talked about that.  Be careful what you wish for.”

The fire inside you is roaring to an inferno now, flames licking to your core. It’s a complicated mixture of anger and sexual energy. It’s infuriating that he’s able to make you feel every single emotion to the extreme. You hate that arguing with him turns you on, like it’s some perverse foreplay.  

You moisten your lips with your tongue as you process his words, and Tae’s eyes hungrily track the appendage as it glides over your lips.

“Fuck. You.” You emphasize perfunctorily.

All thoughts of wiping up the mess are forgotten as Tae drags both you and himself off the floor and steers you to the living room, lips feverish against your own.  He pushes you into the couch and tugs his shirt off, before replacing his lips to yours.  

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot when you’re a bitch,” he groans as he snaps the strap of your sports bra. “Seeing you get all worked up makes me so hard.”

He’s not wrong. You can see through his mesh basketball shorts that he’s sporting an impressive package, rock hard in its clothed prison.

“Yeah?” You bite at his lip.

“Hell yeah.”  His hands work to the elastic band under your bust and tugs the offending material off, tits springing free as he throws it to the floor.  

“Holy shit,” Taehyung breathes as he gets a good look at your chest.

You shake them gently, grinning as he watches them jiggle.  “You like what you see?”

He smirks and pinches a nipple, wiping the coy smile off your face and turning it into a moan.  “I like when you’re mouthy, but don’t push it.”  

He lowers his head to the nipple he’s still pinching in his fingers, licking at it and replacing his fingers with his mouth.  He’s moaning around the nipple, and you’re gasping for more.  His hot mouth sucks at you, teeth nibbling and pulling it until you’re whimpering in delicious pain.

“Fuck!” He cries as he pops away from your nipple.  “You’re so fucking hot.”

Your body warms at his words, arousal pooling between your legs.  You’re sure that your thighs are drenched in your essence.

He slurps your neglected breast into his mouth, ensuring your nipples are equally abused.  His tongue is skilled but his mouth is messy, saliva dripping all around your tit and it’s the hottest fucking sight you’ve ever seen.

He’s pulling away again and pinching both nipples with his hands simultaneously. “And you’re so fucking annoying.”

You’re pleading for more or to stop, you’re not sure.  He continues.

“Mm, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re a good little bitch for me. Listening to every fucking thing I say.”

He releases your nipples, and you finally find the ability to focus again, staring directly at him.

“Oh, you think you’re that good?” you sass as you attempt to catch your breath.  “Put your money where your mouth is.”

Tae grips your chin roughly, face inches away from yours with a sadistic grin. “You’re going to regret those words, baby.”

Instantly, he’s standing up and tugging his shorts down to let his cock spring free.  Your brain misfires as you visually measure his cock and your mouth goes dry. He’s thick and long. The bulbous head is dripping pre-cum, begging you to slurp it up.

“How about I put my money where your mouth is,” he suggests as he grabs a fistful of your hair.  

He teasingly rubs his cock on your lips and cheeks, makes you whimper with need. Your tongue is sticking out, desperate for him to lay it on you.

“Already so fucking greedy,” he grunts and in one motion, directs his dick into your open mouth. “I’ll fuck your throat, yeah? Greedy bitches love getting face fucked.”  He is still for a beat more, eyes searching yours for consent and you nod with his cock still in your mouth. He winks, then begins a rapid pace, his cock fucking into your mouth and throat.

You’re sure you look like a goddamn mess with saliva dripping from your mouth as Taehyung punishes your throat with his thrusts.  You gag and moan around him, and he tightens his grip in your hair as you see stars.

It’s indescribable. Never have you felt such pleasure from sucking cock, but Tae commands your entire body, willing you to drip with anticipation.

“My little fuck toy, god you feel so fucking good,” he hisses. “You’re gonna swallow my cum, baby.”  

His hips are stuttering, he’s close, and you’re sucking him harder, cheeks pulling in harder to vacuum him in. The pressure makes him groan out loud.

“So good, so fucking good. Get ready for your prize, baby,” his voice cuts off in a gasp, as his cock twitches violently. His legs shake and he doesn’t hold back the moans of his orgasm, gasping as he feels rope after rope spill down your hot throat.

Your big doll eyes are twinkling up at him, lips still wrapped around his cock. Taehyung is sure it’s the hottest thing he’ll ever see in his lifetime.  You on your knees, subservient to him and thriving for it.

“Mmm, I like it when your mouth is full like this,” he slowly pulls out of your mouth, albeit reluctantly. “Can’t talk back to me when you’re sucking my cock like a whore.”

You smile and stick out your tongue, pleased to show him you happily accepted his cum.

“Good fucking girl,” he coos as he grips your chin again. “Did you like my cum?”

You nod, brain fried from the heat of the room.

“Use your words,” he grits and grips your jaw harder. It’s enough to shock you into compliance.

“Y-yes! Fuck, I love your cum, Tae.”  Your words are breathy and raspy, throat raw from his barrage.

“I knew you would, filthy slut.  Sit on the couch.” He orders and you’re quick to scurry and sit on the makeshift bed you made.

His hands are tugging down your shorts quickly. No teasing or seduction here, not now. You lift your hips, and he throws them aside. Your legs close on reflex, making him growl.

“Do not hide yourself from me.” His tone is dark and you can’t help but shiver as you open yourself up to him. You want to talk back, want to fight and bite at him, but you’re quickly losing the ability to even speak, and you’re aching for him.

“Where’s my mouthy little bitch? You’re awfully quiet. Did I finally break you?” He teases, pressing your legs upward, knees to your ears. It’s pornographic how on display you are for him, soaking wet cunt front and center.

“The great Taehyung thinks he can break me with his cock,” you mewl, mustering all the false confidence you can. You’re lying through your fucking teeth and you both know it, but you continue. “You’ll have to do more than that.”

Your pussy is quaking with need now, desperate for a single touch. His hands maintain purchase on the backs of your thighs, holding them up.

“There she is,” he bites at the flesh of your leg closest to him which makes you jerk in his hold. “Gonna fuck the brat right out of you.”

He removes a hand from your thigh and you’re quick to pick up the slack, holding the thigh in place to maintain his open show of your pussy.

“Try me,” you murmur, and you’re instantly regretting your words as a harsh slap descends and lands square on your cunt.

You nearly scream, pain flooding your wanton pussy, before turning into delicious pleasure that stings and tingles right at your clit. It sizzles, and warmth blooms where his hand was.

“That’s for not believing me.”  His eyes are feral and you want to bottle this memory forever.  

Another slap has your legs trembling, eyes rolling back as the burn turns to a low heat.  You’re dripping your wetness down onto the couch and Jin will kill you, but you don’t care.

“That was for calling me a dick,” he smirks.

Smack.

Tears spring in your eyes as the slap brings more pleasure than pain, desperately close to your edge.

“Look at you, you could cum just from this, couldn’t you?”

“F-fuck! Yes, please, I need more, please!” Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for friction and leaking out of you like a faucet. Taehyung marvels at you, legs spread so far, with a cunt weeping with arousal for more. He can’t wait to dive in there, but he’s not finished with you yet.

“More? I don’t know if you deserve more, baby, you’ve been awfully mean to me,” he tsks, breathing hot air on your clit, making you whine.

“P-please! I’m sorry!” You’re sure you will black out with how desperately you need him. You need him more than you need oxygen.

“Beg.”

You’re quick to submit. Thoughts of fighting back are long gone, you’re his wanton little slut now.

“Please, please! Pleaseeeee, make me cum! I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” He asks with an arch of his eyebrow.

You’re nodding wildly, gazing at him with desperate, watery eyes.

“Anything, I need you so f-fucking bad it hurts!”

By the time the words leave your lips, he’s thrusting two fingers into your cunt viciously, fingering you ferociously. He arches them, rubbing against your spongy g-spot and making you scream. He knows you’re close, knows you only need one little push off the edge. He plays your body like a skilled practitioner.

“Cum on my fingers, baby. Let me see my greedy little bitch milk my fingers.”

Your body and mind react accordingly, deep down you know your body is owned completely by him, all his.  Your orgasm explodes and you think you actually scream, your vision is black and your hearing goes silent for a moment as you cum harder than you have in your life.  You’re squeezing his fingers with your pussy so tight and Taehyung is gently licking all the juices from his hand with his fingers still inside you.

It takes time to descend from the separate plane of existence Taehyung sent you too, but you come back and watch as he laps at the liquid of your cunt and on his hand like it’s a vital necessity. His fingers remain in your walls, and he refuses to break eye contact with you. You’re positive you could cum again from the sight.

“My little cockslut tastes so good, just how I like,” he tells you tenderly. “Like cherries, so sweet.  My little cherry.”

Your cunt is aching and warming back to life as he pulls his fingers out of you. The loss is immense and you’re whimpering for more.

“Ah, ah,” he hushes you. “No whining. You’ll take what I give you.  Suck my fingers clean. Taste yourself.”

He presses his fingers into your mouth, earning him a sigh, the taste of you filling your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers and suckle each one to ensure your tongue laves the entire surface.

“Fuck,” he whispers and it’s his first crack in his steel reserve. “Needy.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and presses against you to kiss. It’s gentle, sweet, and nothing compared to the man assailing your pussy with slaps moments ago. It thrills you just the same and you return in kind, threading your hands in his wavy hair.

He pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, a moment of gentleness you actively welcome.

“This little cunt ready for me?” He whispers and you’re whimpering your reply.

“Please, fuck me. I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your lips again, sweet and chaste, before he pulls away and slides down to attach those same sinful lips to your pussy.

It’s so unexpected you flinch and manage a cry as his tongue slurps up more of your delicious essence and his mouth moves to suckle on your clit. You’re not sure where the fuck he learned these tricks, but you know now you will never let him go.

“Taehyung!” You cry at the sensation. “Fuck!”

After receiving the reaction he was desperate for, he slips his tongue into your walls deep and gathers as much of you as he can, before he’s pulling back and swallowing you down.

“I couldn’t resist. Your cunt was made for me to devour.”

He doesn’t allow for a response as he throws your legs over his shoulders and lines himself up at your core.

“Condom?” He asks you, and you level a quick look at him.

“I don’t live here! I don’t have any!”  You’re savage, terrified he’ll pull his cock away when all you want and can think about is the way he’ll feel pounding into you.

“Don’t be rude, baby,” he reminds you with a swat to your ass. “I’m clean, promise. You?”

You nod quickly, reveling in the spank’s tingle. “Same. I have an IUD too,” you sigh. Thank god for medical birth control implants.

“Good. You’re the only pussy I’m gonna fuck from now on,” he promises. You know you must talk about this later, when you’re thinking rationally and not with your aching pussy.  

Your heart stutters and leaps into your throat but all is forgotten as he plunges into your tight heat.

“Ohhhhh shit, ahhh,” he gasps. “Baby, you’re so fucking tight and wet.”  He’s on the verge of whining, becoming just as needy and greedy as you.  He wastes no time in setting a pace.

His cock fills you completely, his angle allowing him to go as deep as he can, pressing the beginning of your cervix.  This is surely what heaven feels like.  It feels like the completeness you feel with Taehyung fully sheathed inside you.

It comes alive with flames and explosions as he fucks you, hips pistoning to plunge in and out of you with tenacity.  He fucks you like he laces every single thrust with more, more than just sex. He fucks you with purpose.

You’re moaning like a pornstar now, high pitch wails and gasps and breathy moans are all you can manage. “Taehyung, yes! Feel so g-g-good!”

“That’s right baby, scream my fucking name. Make sure all the neighbors know who fucking ruined you,” he nearly spits, cock thrusting into your core at an impossible speed. “I want you to tell all of Korea who owns you. Who owns this tiny little cunt?”

The wind leaves you, and you’re gasping for air, gaping mouth open as you try to reply. It takes him fucking into you harder a few times before you feel it rush back into you.

“You, Taehyung!  You!  Fuck, I love your cock!”

His thumb rubs at your engorged clit, allowing it the friction it seeks.  He bends forward and wraps his other hand around your throat, squeezing.  

Losing air combined with the friction on your clit has you keening, so close to the edge. You try to babble his name but nothing comes out.

“Look at my pretty little slut taking my cock so well,” he praises.  “You have the greediest pussy, don’t you? You need my cock daily, baby. Need to put my mouthy bitch in her place, remind her who’s in charge.”

He slows his pace but his thrusts are punishing, fucking into you as hard as he can. Your orgasm is climbing so impossibly high.

“F-fuck!” You gasp as he releases his grip on your neck. “Gonna cum! Please let me cum!”  

“Yeah baby, cum for me.  Cream your greedy pussy all over my cock.”

The world stops spinning as you hit the height of your climax and plunge down.  Your vision goes black and your body is quivering and convulsing nearly as hard as your cunt is. Taehyung hisses at your walls sucking him in, as if you’re begging for his cum, begging for more.

“Fuck, good girl, baby, holy shit,” he’s breathless and so close.

You’re overstimulated, boneless, but he wrought two of the best orgasms you’ve ever felt in your life and you’ll be damned if you leave him high and dry.  You bite your lip as you move with him, hips pounding against each other. His face is scrunched up and you know he’s close when he’s stuttering on his words.  You take over for him.

“Please cum in me baby, please.  Fill me up. I’m yours, baby, mark my little cunt as yours.”  You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you keep it going. It feels as natural as fucking him does. “Please, Taehyung!”

At the sound of his name leaving you in a whine, he spirals down his own completion. He feels his cock pulse as he empties his load into you, your walls still reverently beckoning for him. He’s calling out your name, grasping at your tits as he finishes and you’re smiling from ear to ear. Your pussy is warm with his seed and you’re positive it’s the way you want to feel every single night.

“Holy fuck,” Taehyung rasps as he pulls his cock out of you. He thrills as he watches his cum follow, slipping out your folds and down your thigh. “I definitely marked you.”

You hum in reply, finally allowing yourself to soak in the haze of orgasmic bliss. Tae presses his head to yours again, kissing you sweetly.

“Come sleep in my bed?” He asks. He means more behind it. He wants to ask you to sleep in his bed every night, stay with him every day, be the one he grows old with. He knows there’s still more to talk about, wounds of the past to heal, but now you’re with him, and he knows he’ll work through anything.

You nod, and kiss him again, understanding his hidden meaning laced in his words.

A sly smile spreads across his face. “Last one to bed has to take the blame for the wineglass,” he teases. Your head spins as if you’ve got whiplash.  He can switch from dominating to sensitive to the little shit he is so quick.

“Hey! No fucking fair! You fucked my ability to run out of me!”

“Shouldn’t have been such a sassy bitch,” he winks before he tears away towards his room.

“Taehyung, you’re an asshole!” You call as you limp your way behind him.

From behind Joon and Jin’s door, a critical voice bellows, “YAH! I’ll kill you if you got your jizz on my couch! And what is this I heard about my glass!!? HEY!  Those are TIFFANY. CRYSTAL. THE DISRESPECT!”

You slip into Taehyung’s bed and wrap yourself around him, the two of you gasping with mischievous giggles.

Kim Taehyung will always be the one who knows how to drive you wild. He’ll always aggravate and infuriate you, send you reeling.

But now you didn’t think you minded it at all.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

#bangtanarmynet #maknaesmutsociety #btswritersnet #btswriterscollective #kwritersworldnet #bts taehyung #bts kim taehyung #bts v #bts fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #v

[ladyartemesia]

•▨ The Choice ▨•

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

Pairing: Bastard Prince Min Yoongi x Virgin Reader

Genre: Fairytale/Fantasy AU • Smut • Fluff • Angst

Word Count: 7300

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. MINORS PROHIBITED. I DO NOT CONSENT TO ANY INTERACTIONS WITH PERSONS UNDER THE AGE OF 18. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Rating and Warnings: (M) for mature themes, innuendo, and sexual content • injury • loss of virginity • mention of a side character being too rough with his lovers • 

Special Thanks: A huge hug and a ton of love goes out to my FIRST EVER beta reader (and tiger king wife) @xjoonchildx​. • Also thank you to (my other tiger king wife) @ppersonna​ and (actual angel) @joonglows​ for giving fabulous encouragement and listening to me whine. 

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

a lady born of fire and light

within her blood runs holy might

she must forge her lover’s throne

destroy what once was set in stone

her maidenhead shall be the sign

For from her springs the true king’s line

First Prophecy of the Current Age, Kingdom of Norlandria

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

“My lady... I think you may have the wrong room.”

The cloaked figure seated serenely on his favorite chair - in his bedchamber - simply tilted her head.

“No,” your lips twitched in subtle amusement, “I am exactly where I meant to be.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened.

“Here? You meant to be here - in the bastard prince’s sleeping quarters?”

“Yes.”

Your eyes met his with cool defiance. Yoongi felt his body stir in response - as it always did when you were near.

Gods this is a dangerous woman.

His hands clenched into fists.

“My lady -” he emphasized your title deliberately, “you cannot be here.”

“And why is that, Min Yoongi?”

It’s been years since he heard his name on your lips and he was utterly unprepared for the effect of it - utterly unprepared for the sharp shot of pleasure twisting low in his belly or the heat that curled up his spine. 

Only the dull fingernails digging painfully into his palm kept his reactions in check.

“Have you forgotten who and what you are?”

Emotion flared in your eyes for the briefest moment.

“No. I have not forgotten.”

Yoongi crossed his arms, leaning back against his large wooden wardrobe with a dismissive scoff.

“Clearly you have, so it falls upon me to remind you that - as the only daughter of our high priest - a child of prophecy - and the sacred virgin bride of the future king - my brother - you have no business-”

“I am not here for your brother,” your voice cracked like a whip, cutting off his condescending tirade with pointed intent, “I am here for you.”

Yoongi felt the deep stirrings of fury boil up in his blood. He stormed forward, slamming his fist on the desk beside you.

“Is this a trap?!” he growled viciously, “Some sort of elaborate ruse cooked up by my brother to lure me into treason?”

“No-”

“Then are you trying to get us killed?!”

“Yoongi - please - listen-” you reached out to grab his sleeve, but he was too fast. He caught your bare wrist in his hand and you both froze.

It was the first time he had ever truly touched you.

It was the first time anyone but your parents and your handmaidens had ever truly touched you.

Gods she’s soft.

The thought flashed through Yoongi’s mind before he could stop it, stoking his anger all the more.

He swore loudly and yanked his hand away.

“Do you not comprehend that even being in the same room with you alone is a death sentence? You cannot come to my quarters in the middle of the night wearing -” the words choked in his throat as his eyes dropped below your neck- “spirits and saints preserve me - WHAT are you wearing?”

“A nightgown.”

“I can see it’s a nightgown woman - er my lady - but the fabric-”

You nodded pleasantly, “It’s the finest in all the land.”

Yoongi opened his mouth. Closed it. Then opened it again.

“It’s completely see-through.”

“And yet,” your eyes danced with warm amusement, “you have not looked away.”

It was true. 

He hated himself for it, but saints he was mesmerized. Sheer silk danced over your skin with every breath, caressing and revealing the forbidden curves of your body in a way that left his hands aching to explore them.

“Why are you doing this?” he whispered. 

The question was quiet - pained-  

Almost hurt. 

His eyes darted across your form and face with naked longing, drawing you in like a siren song.

Utterly forbidden... but still so brutally sweet.  

Min Yoongi was notorious in many circles for his fierce gaze and callous demeanor... yet he was never able to fully tame his reaction to you. 

He tried though. He always tried.

Even the most careful observer could barely hear the hitch in his breath when you passed, or note the way his gaze lingered on your face just a second longer than any other.

Now, however, with nothing but a hint of silk and the soft glow of firelight in the intimate space between you, your effect on him was far harder to conceal.

What would it take to break this man?

A lone shiver twisted lazily up your spine. 

Focus. 

This is the last step. The final piece. 

And all of it depended on him.

“Do you remember that summer 5 years ago?… I was seventeen - finally allowed to accompany my father on a hunting party.” You smiled as if you were discussing the weather and not an event that radically altered the course of your life. “I was so excited… I’d never been to Old Forest and it was only the third time I’d met your brother... He was so handsome I could scarcely speak…”

Yoongi’s fingers twitched reflexively against his shirtsleeves. Of course he remembered that day. 

Part of him relived it every time he closed his eyes. 

“When that boar charged my mare and she bolted through the woods, I held on for as long as I could, but I was still thrown... The impact was terrible, but I’d scarcely begun to pull myself upright when I heard the boar charging… and then...”

Your voice tapered off as you lost yourself in the memory. 

“You saved me.”

A man with dark eyes and wild midnight hair suddenly landed between you and the boar. The bow in his hand bent sharply as he slotted two arrows, drawing them back till their feathered tips brushed his lips. 

For the barest instant his gaze darted into yours - shocking your body with a sharp, strange heat. 

Then he fired. One arrow into each of the boar’s eyes - 

A nearly impossible shot. 

The stranger was by your side in an instant - but you could not look away from the gruesome corpse behind him-

“Are you hurt, my lady?” 

Fear and adrenaline beat heavily in your chest, blotting out sound and sensation- 

“My lady!”

Strong hands wrapped around your shoulders, startling you from your daze. People simply did not touch you - not even over your clothes. Warmth spread from his palms, curling through your arms and neck like a caress; drawing you safely back to the forest. 

Back to him.

Saints he was magnificent. 

Eyes like onyx peered into yours with tender concern. Sweat and dirt marred his smooth pale skin, but the sunlight flashing hypnotically over the rings on his fingers and the bright silver earrings dangling from each ear lent him an almost magical aura.

Curious new sensations hummed to life beneath your skin.

“Who are you?” 

The corner of his mouth quirked ever so slightly.

“Min Yoongi.”

“Min Yoongi...” The name struck a familiar chord. “You’re - you’re prince Aurengi’s older brother - the bas-”

“The bastard prince,” he finished for you - his eyes and tone markedly colder than before.

“That’s odd,” you mused with a shy smile “You don’t look like a wicked despoiler of innocents.”

Yoongi threw his head back and laughed.

“Ah well - it's my day off you see. I left my lecherous horns and sinful mask of debauchery at home”

You grinned.

“No wonder I didn’t recognize you.”

Yoongi’s horse had run off and your attempts to walk unassisted were fruitless which left you both in a rather delicate situation… 

Royal law explicitly forbade any man to touch you skin to skin.

Initially you urged the prince to leave you and return with help, but Yoongi dismissed that idea in favor of wrapping his neck in cloth (from one of your many underskirts) and carefully lifting you into his arms. 

You’d never been in a man’s arms before and frankly it was downright exhilarating. You would have willingly broken both legs to experience it. The curl of his bicep under your knees - the warmth of his chest pressed intimately to yours-

Your fingers itched to feel the texture of his hair where it curled softly over his nape…

Hopefully he would attribute your erratic breathing to the near miss with the boar and not his delicious proximity. 

Sighing, you allowed your gaze to roam over the exotic slope of his eyes and the sharp cut of his jaw all the way up to the intricate silver ornaments at his ear. They appeared quite strange and foriegn to your inexperienced eye. No men and very few women in the kingdom favored such adornments. 

“Why do you wear the earrings?”

Yoongi tipped his head a bit to offer you a small indulgent smile. You tried very hard not to swoon. 

“My mother… she was an Eastrili”

Your eyes widened. 

Eastril was an ancient kingdom - far older than Norlandria - whose borders were the limit of your experience with the outside world. The Eastrili were known for their rich cultural ties to ritual magic; the elaborate piercings and intricate designs inked into their skin set them apart from their less spiritual neighbors. 

“Have you ever been there?” 

You were practically burning with curiosity, but the prince shook his head. 

“No… My mother was a warrior. When Norlandria invaded Great Bay, she was captured as a prisoner of war.”

Your eyes widened even further at that.

The Battle of Great Bay was infamous to both Norlandria and Eastril. The conflict lasted nearly twelve days with catastrophic loss of life on both sides-

Until Eastril’s beloved princess was slain on the field. 

The shock of her death forced an immediate cease-fire. Technically the two countries were still ‘at war’... but since the loss of the princess there had been an uneasy - unofficial - peace.  

“Was she there? Did -did she see the princess die?”

Yoongi’s jaw worked reflexively - as if he was carefully considering his next words,

“She served directly under the princess, but would never speak of her death or of Eastril. I believe the memories were too painful.”

“So…” your mind followed his words to their logical conclusion, “they’re her earrings. Your mother’s.” 

“They’re all I have left of her really. The piercings of an Eastrili are sacred - so much so that Norlandria and Soutmar have signed Articles of War promising never to remove them from Eastrili prisoners.”

“They suit you,” you spoke suddenly - and then immediately wished you were dead because saints you had said that out loud-

Yoongi laughed and you smiled up at him sheepishly.

It could have been minutes or hours of engaging conversation and playful banter before the pointed towers of the royal hunting lodge finally came into view. Yoongi had just finished handing you to you father (who’d come rushing through the iron gate looking frantic) when he found a blade pressed against his chin.

“How dare you put your filthy mongrel hands on my fiance-” 

The crown prince’s snarl dripped with palpable malice.

Yoongi didn't move. His eyes flew to yours, but that only seemed to enrage Aurengi further.

“Don’t look at her,” he growled, driving his sword infinitesimally harder into his brother’s flesh.

‘STOP!” 

Both princes sported nearly identical expressions of shock as you scrambled from your father’s hold to lunge awkwardly between them.

Clearly neither one expected you to intervene and the surprise on Yoongi’s face was almost heartbreaking.

“He never touched me! He saved me. That boar would have killed me if not for him.”

Deafening silence followed your breathless declaration. 

In any other situation, your father would have expressed his immediate gratitude, but the crown prince’s open hatred of his elder brother had the man holding his tongue.

Your jaw clenched in fury. 

“Min Yoongi!” Your eyes locked with Aurengi’s as you called out his brother’s name. “I require a token.”

Gasps echoed across the chamber in all directions. Aurengi’s eyes widened. You could not see Yoongi’s face, but you heard him stiffen behind you,

The token ritual was a sacred custom among your people. When any man or woman saved the life of another - the person spared requested a token from their savior. The token was a reminder of the service rendered. In a time of great need, the savior could call on a token holder for aid ...and he or she was bound to give it. 

“I cannot grant you a token for doing my duty.” 

The words whispered quietly across your back. Beside you, your father visibly relaxed, and for the first time in your life- you were ashamed of him.

“No.” The word rang out with fierce conviction as you turned to face him. “You would not dishonor me by refusing my request...Your Highness.”

Yoongi’s expression remained carefully neutral, but the impact of your statement was not lost on him. No one ever addressed him by his title in his brother’s presence. 

Aurengi hissed angrily behind you, but you ignored his antics and defiantly held out your hand.

Slowly - as if in a daze - Yoongi reached up to the braided metal dangling from his right ear. Your mouth parted in surprise.

His mother’s earring.

The young prince’s fingers hesitated for the briefest moment before he dropped the precious keepsake into your hand.

Yoongi’s eyes drifted unconsciously to the treasure he’d given you all those years ago.

You had not taken it off since that day. 

He almost couldn’t believe it when he saw you - nearly two years later-  with his token hooked into your skin for the world to see. It enraged Aurengi that you insisted on wearing it - knowing full well it was the mark of his bastard brother.

A mark you both wore proudly.

His hand stretched toward the familiar metal braids almost of its own volition - brushing the delicate links against his fingertips before pulling away from you once more. 

“I was only doing my duty,” he whispered - an echo of his words so many years ago “You should not read too much into such things.”

“And the letters?” you asked. “Were they your duty too?”

Yoongi paled.

“Letters?”

His tone was deceptively even. An amused smile tugged at your lips. 

“My letters,” you sighed, casually slipping the velvet cloak off your shoulders - removing the last barrier between his gaze and the diaphanous slip draped decadently over your skin.

Every nerve in Yoongi’s body fired chaotically - all at once. 

Spirits and saints have mercy.

You were here - in his room - soft and inviting in a way he had only ever dared dream about - and even then none too frequently because such tempting thoughts about the woman he wanted so desperately, but would never have were needlessly masochistic. And now here you were - beckoning to him like the ancient sirens - so glorious in their draw - yet so deadly in their embrace-

It was far more than he was prepared to handle. 

His eyes flew closed in a fruitless bid for self preservation. There wasn’t nearly enough blood left in his head to produce coherent human speech, still he was quite ready to beg you - for the love of all the gods - to please stop tormenting him and let him live out the rest of his wretched solitary existence in peace, but you spoke again before he could find the words.

“The letters I’ve been forced to write every week since my thirteenth birthday... letters to Aurengi which he pawned off to his steward - and somehow… found their way to you.”

“You’re mistaken” he muttered - turning away from you to hide the havoc in his mind and body 

It took every ounce of self control you possessed not to openly revel in his reaction - both to your words and your daring negligee.

“Hoseok is a good man,” you whispered after a moment. “He may be your brother’s steward, but he was your friend first and his loyalty lies with you.”

Yoongi carded his fingers through his hair in an attempt to ground himself again. 

“How could you know that?”

“His wife, Ana, was a handmaiden before she became a lady in waiting. She noticed my letter in the tray on Hoseok’s desk. Later she watched you retrieve it…” 

A tender smile crept over your face at the thought of your fierce (though outwardly serene) former handmaiden and the man wrapped securely around her finger.

“Hobi is quite besotted enough to tell her anything she asks.”

Yoongi wished - fervently - that he didn’t completely understand. 

He gulped reflexively. 

“How long…?”

“I’ve known I was writing to you for three years. Though... there were hints before that. Aurengi clearly wasn’t reading my letters, he never understood any reference to them I made in conversation. But the gifts he sent me - gifts I assume he expected Hoseok to take care of like everything else - those could only have come from someone who read my words - someone who knew me-” 

A sudden swell of emotion twisted heavily in your chest, “They could only have come from you.”

Yoongi would have traded his best horse to be anywhere else. He felt vulnerable  - betrayed - exposed. The familiar desire to lash out and defend his innate sanctity bucked frantically against his fraying control.

Yet as he turned to rage at you-  he found himself simply offering the truth...

“I never receive letters.” His eyes remained fixed on the floor - carefully avoiding your gaze.  “I was visiting Hoseok one day... and he was frustrated because Aurengi refused to read yours. He’d ordered Hoseok to go through them all and let him know if there was anything important.” 

Yoongi shook his head and breathed out a bitter chuckle. 

“There were stacks of them just sitting there - stacks of letters for my arrogant brother from the woman he was going to spend his life with.... and he couldn’t even be bothered to open them.”

He swallowed convulsively-  acutely aware of your eyes on him and of the unprecedented vulnerability he was allowing.

“I don’t know what made me do it… perhaps curiosity -or jealousy that my brother was already guaranteed companionship when I was always-” his jaw clenched, “so lonely.”

The prince’s eyes finally rose to meet yours.

“You were… such a surprise. The letters were vivid...engaging - filled with intelligence and personality and I was... fascinated by you.” 

His hands clenched reflexively.

“When I learned that you would be coming on the hunt that year, I joined so I could catch a glimpse of the woman from those letters.” 

Yoongi would never forget the first time he saw you…

Laughing with your face tilted into the rays of the sun. 

He had never experienced anything so acutely bittersweet.

You were the answer to a question he had quietly asked all his life.

And yet he would never know you. You would never be his. 

He determined then and there to ignore you for the sake of his own sanity, but when your horse suddenly tore off into the forest, Yoongi felt the world itself ground to a halt. The other hunters were courtiers and aides - they wouldn’t know how to safely retrieve you, but he’d grown up racing stablehands through the trees - engaging in the kind of deadly recklessness young men seemed to be known for. He was ironically grateful for those idiotic antics as he spurred his mount after yours.

Even then, he was almost too late. 

“I never expected to save you or give you my token, I certainly never expected you to wear it…”

“And you kept reading my letters.”

“I felt like you deserved to be heard,” the words slipped out almost absently - as if he had not meant to speak them aloud. 

Your quiet gasp instantly set him back on edge. 

“After all” his tone was cooler now - without a trace of his former vulnerability, “you were kind to me and you will be queen one day- my dear brother’s wife - it's the least I can do - for family.”

“Family!?” you scoffed, “Is that what we are?”

“We are nothing, my lady. I am the king’s bastard son and you are the fulfillment of a centuries-old prophecy-”

“Yes. The prophecy,” you sighed wearily. “How could I forget-” 

“- which clearly states you will have one lover - the heir - the crown prince - so if anyone were to see you here - in my bedchamber wearing-” (his eyes dipped briefly below your chin) “-that - it would mean death- certainly my death, possibly yours too - and not just any death - the long-drawn-out painful kind-”

“Do not presume to tell me what the prophecy states. I’ve lived my entire life in the shadow of those words! They’re all anyone ever sees when they look at me-”

“That’s not true-”

“It is true! That prophesy bound me to Aurengi before I drew my first breath!”

Yoongi’s eyes closed in pain.

Your hands fisted into the fabric of your gown.

“I’ve seen the women who stumble out of your brother’s chambers… Their bodies are battered and their spirits broken. His taste in bedsport feeds on fear and violence, They are not his lovers...they are his victims. There is neither love nor trust in his dealings with them.” 

You took a deep breath, closing the distance between you till you stood directly in front of him. 

“Aurengi leverages his power over them just as he will someday leverage his power over our kingdom - over me.” 

“No.” Yoongi growled. His hands wrapped around the soft flesh of your arm- dragging you just short of fully against him

“Yes,” you fired back bitterly. He was close enough to feel the word against his lips. 

“They’ve all spent years preserving my sacred virginity so they can hand my body and soul over to that despicable animal. I’ve voiced my concerns - my objections - again and again and it does not matter that I’m terrified of surrendering my freedom and our people to a man who cares for nothing but himself!”

Yoongi’s forehead pressed intimately to yours. The sound of your labored breathing filled the scant space between you. His eyes had fluttered closed, but your scent curled around him like a mage's curse. He could barely breathe for want of you. His fingers fanned out to skim the smooth planes of your shoulders, sending heady waves of pleasure directly to your core. 

“Spirits and saints above,” you moaned - no longer capable of hiding your reaction, “I have wanted your hands on me from the moment I saw you.”

The prince wrenched himself backward with an anguish gasp.

“You would have me defy the gods?! Your blood is sacred-”

“And what of my choice!? Is that not sacred too?!”

His eyes flashed like warm obsidian. 

“Yes.”

The fragile tether restraining Yoongi’s desire seemed to snap around the same moment as your patience. 

His hands, which were digging desperately into the surface of his desk, suddenly curled around your waist and dragged your body flush against him. You barely had time to register the flood of new sensation before Yoongi swooped down and took your mouth.

If you were offering yourself to him on a silver platter, then by the gods he meant to have you.

The sheer force of your reaction to his kiss - your first kiss - had you whimpering desperately, but Yoongi was in no mood to be merciful, plundering your mouth like a man who would rather die than stop. 

He broke away briefly to lift you onto the desk and run his palms up your bare legs- pushing that accursed gown back till they wrapped easily around his waist. 

“Is this what you want, my lady?” he growled into your ear before taking it between his teeth. A lifetime without intimate touch left you wildly oversensitive. His hands, his mouth, his heated breath fanning over your skin - it was too much - it was far too much, but saints you’d do anything to have more.

“Please,” you whimpered, not even entirely sure what you were begging for.

Yoongi nipped the skin at the base of your neck, drawing out small potent shocks of pleasure. His hands spread greedily over your thighs until he gripped the soft mounds of your backside and slammed your aching center against him.

You screamed.

“Gods you’re nightmare” he hissed, grinding harder against you till you were literally shaking.“You come here - into my private chambers - wearing nothing but a scrap of see-through silk,” a harsh tearing sound filled the room as Yoongi shredded through the finest fabric in all the land. Cool air whispered over your exposed torso for a brief moment before he replaced it with the warmth of his touch.

“Why must you ask for my hands when you belong to someone else.” His teeth sank into the sensitive flesh between your neck and shoulder. Your hips jerked involuntarily - forcing another tortured groan.

“You know what they say about me don’t you?” he muttered as he mouthed along your collarbone.You gasped every time his tongue flicked out to tease you.“That I'm a heartless bastard.”

He tugged you forward off the desk - upending your balance as his thigh moved between your legs - causing you to straddle it lewdly.Your toes were barely able to brush the floor. You were forced to cling to him and struggle against his muscled thigh to remain upright.

Wicked waves of pleasure and frustration erupted from your core and the shock of it had your eyes flying open.

Yoongi’s hands suddenly cupped your chin, bringing your mouths into a teasing almost contact.

“I’ve been heartless since the moment I met you,” he whispered, letting his lips brush against yours, “I didn't even know I had a heart until you took it from me.”

Tenderness and desire jerked violently in your chest as he opened his mouth to you - letting you explore him as he had explored you only moments before.

Brutal sensation trembled through your limbs. Your fingers shook as they clawed at his tunic - desperate to feel more of his skin against your own.

“Yoongi please,” you sobbed, burning up with an emptiness you couldn’t quite comprehend, “help me, please.”

“I will,” he swore - clearly misunderstanding what you were begging for, “I’ll get you out. I don’t care where I have to take you, I’ll never let him have you.”

You giggled breathlessly.

“No, I’m not going anywhere.”

Yoongi froze.

Which was terrible, because you’re reasonably sure he was about to put his mouth over your nipple and you had no idea that was even an option, but you’re really keen to try it now if he would just -

“What are you saying?” His previously tender grip became surprisingly clinical as he hauled you none-too-gently back onto the desk.

“I’m saying that I’m not planning to run away.”

Yoongi’s brows raised right up into his hairline.

“Are you mad? They’ll kill us.”

No need to specify who “they” were. He had broken about fifteen laws in the last fifteen minutes and was halfway through violating a prophecy. “They” was a long list at this point. 

“They won’t.”

“They will!” His voice was a tad higher-pitched as a result of his disbelief and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. 

“I’ve mostly despoiled a sacred virgin! We’re actively defying a prophecy!” His common sense began to trickle back as the situation below his waist calmed down. “Saints what am I doing?!”

“We’re not defying the prophecy,” you huffed, leaning over to yank your cloak up from the floor. This was not a conversation you were prepared to have naked. “We’re fulfilling it.”

The prince drew back and blinked several times. Slowly.

“...Have you gotten into your father’s incense again? I heard about that thing with the cow and the fountain-”

“Oh my stars- that was one time - no. Just listen.”

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose - letting his eyes flutter closed. “Yes - of course - I’ll just...listen.”

“Tell me the first line prophecy-”

“I thought I was listening.”

“Are you serious right now!?”

Yoongi grinned. Gods you were a firebrand. 

He sighed deeply and began to recite the familiar words.

“A lady born of fire and light, within her blood runs holy might-”

“Yes - now - that refers to the astrological phenomenon at the hour of my birth and my bloodline - there’s no question of my identity. However, the next lines are far less clear.”

Yoongi was trying to follow along - he really was, but you were half naked and making absolutely no sense.

“In... what way?”

“She must forge her lover’s throne - that’s the next part. Those fools are so obtuse - they’ve had me learning blacksmith craft since my tenth year so I could literally forge Aurengi’s throne. I’m bloody terrible at it - honestly, any throne I forge -  it would be a miracle if it stood upright.”

“I’m afraid you cannot dismiss an entire prophecy because you’re a shite blacksmith.”

“I am profoundly aware of that.”

“And - you destroyed Aurengi’s first engagement. Our families had already exchanged betrothal stones with the royal family of Westarin. Your birth destroyed what once was set in stone by breaking his promise to their princess. Everyone knows that -”

“Everyone is wrong!” Your words rang with utter conviction and Yoongi found himself - reluctantly - beginning to question something he had taken for granted all his life.

“...In the Great Hall of Kings... there is stone pillar with hundreds of names on it-”

His mouth parted in absolute shock.

“Th-The Stone of Succession?”

“The name of every king and his heir are carved into that stone - not just literally, but metaphorically - the succession order has been set in stone.”

“And….if the prophecy does not refer to Aurengi-”

“- then it would destroy what once was set in stone by destroying the succession order. The prophecy cannot refer to Aurengi. After all - why specify a true king if there wasn’t also a false one?”

A faint ringing sound began to build in both his ears. His skin seemed to itch from the inside out as your words slowly sunk in. “Speak plainly. What are you saying?”

“I am saying that my choice - here and now - will forge your throne ...Because you are the true king.”

Yoongi was out of his seat and heading towards the window in less than an instant. The air was suddenly far too heavy to breathe properly.

“That’s not possible,” he coughed, “I have no desire to be anyone’s king, and even if I did - you cannot wish such things into existence-”

“I don’t need to make any wishes. The heir to the throne is the child born to the highest ranked of the king’s lovers - even if she is not his wife - that is our law.”

“It’s been centuries since a woman of higher birth than the queen produced an heir. And frankly that means nothing in this situation-”

“It means everything. Aurengi’s mother was a duchess - but yours was a princess.”

Yoongi whirled around to face you fully - his eyes wild with suspicion and shock.

“How - how could you possibly-”

“She told you didn’t she? She told you the truth before she died-”

“No! She was sick - delusional - the fever was already in her mind -”

“She wasn't delusional! It was true, Yoongi!”

He shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around what was unfolding.

“I don’t understand. There was no one in the room when she told me - she was minutes from the end - there’s no way-”

Gently you reached forward to cradle his face in your hands.  His pulse calmed instantly under your touch.

“Yoongi...last year a small vessel ran onto the rocks near our family estate. Cousin Lindy and I were out riding to check for damage from the storm when we found it. Lindy recognized the Eastrili design right away.”

Your fingers tentatively carded through his hair and he sighed out a quiet groan in response.

“If my father knew, he would have detained them as political prisoners, but they were only in Norlandria because the storm blew them off course... I didn’t have the heart to turn them in.”

Yoongi snorted softly.

“Do you ever do what’s expected of you?”

“Only if it makes sense.” 

He grinned.

“There were three men left alive in the wreckage. We dragged them to the groundskeeper’s cottage and hid them there till they were recovered... When I got word that they were well enough to receive visitors, I went to greet them. I intended to help them return to Eastril…”

Your fingers tightened on the veil covering your face and hair as the wind raged over the nearby sea. There was no viable reason for you to visit the groundskeeper in the dead of night. Hopefully the veil would be enough to conceal your identity from prying eyes.

You stumbled clumsily into the cottage and found yourself face to face with three of the most beautiful men you had ever laid eyes on.

Saints. They didn’t look like that when they were half-drowned and covered in sea mud.

Each of your guests had thick dark hair similar to Yoongi’s. Ink markings swirled over their necks in mesmerizing patterns. One even had what appeared to be runes drawn elegantly under his right eye. Silver piercings glinted from their brows, ears, lips, and noses.

They were utterly stunning. 

“My lady we owe you our gratitude,” the shortest of the trio bowed deeply. “I am Jimin and this,” he gestured to the two men behind him, “is Jungkook and Taeyhung.”’

“You are most welcome.” You offered a polite curtsy before reaching up to remove your veil. “It is my good fortune to cross your path.”

Jimin froze.

One of his companions gasped audibly, the other looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

Fear gripped your chest.

What is it? What’s wrong?

Taehyung spoke frantically in their native tongue and Jimin immediately raised his hands toward you in a gesture of peace.

“I am unarmed,” he whispered - his eyes strangely fixated on your face. “Please may I come closer?...I swear on my soul’s fire I will not hurt you.”

His gaze seemed desperate and oddly... hopeful.

“Y-yes. You may.”

As he drew forward, you realized that his focus was not on you - but on something that was revealed when you discarded your veil.

“Where did you get this earring, my lady?” 

The two behind him shifted anxiously.

“It was...” you were suddenly reluctant to disclose Yoongi’ identity, “- a man. He saved my life and gave it to me as a token.”

“May I?” 

His fingers reached out tentatively to touch the delicate chain in your ear.

For a moment you swore you could feel the metal heat against your skin.

Jimin’s nostrils flared. His eyes went black.

Well that was unexpected.

“Do you know... that in all the world there is only one pair of earrings like this?”

Yoongi drew back in confusion.

“They recognized my earring?”

“Jimin and his companions are royal mages. Their families have served the ruling house of Eastril for a thousand years. These,” your fingers brushed over Yoongi’s earring, “- were custom made for the Princess of Eastril by Jimin’s father. They still bear traces of his magic.”

“That proves nothing. My mother served with the princess. She could have taken them -” 

“She didn’t. You know that no Easrtili would remove another’s piercings - it's sacrilege. Your mother was the princess.”

His eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Why would a princess allow any of this to happen? She was a prisoner of war - the king’s lover. What you’re suggesting is madness...”

You bit your lip, considering how best to communicate the enormity of what you knew. Yoongi - despite being eyeball deep in a life altering identity crisis - was momentarily distracted by how much he wanted to bite your lip. 

“Jimin eventually took me into his confidence. It helped that he and Lindy became -” you searched for a polite way to say that they had defiled every surface in the groundskeeper’s cottage, “- close.” 

Yoongi's eyebrows raised.You cleared your throat awkwardly before continuing. 

“It was Jimin’s father - the high mage of Eastril - who helped your mother fake her death. They realized that without a catastrophic incident, our countries would tear each other apart. She was trying to buy time to look for a more permanent solution... But they lost contact with her when she was captured by your father.”

“I don’t understand. Eastrili mages have scry magic, they can find almost anyone.”

“But your father isn’t just anyone is he? No soul in Norlandria is more guarded than the king  - especially when it comes to foriegn magic. Defensive spells protecting the royal family are crafted by hundreds of our strongest priests.”

“Do they know that…” his eyes burned briefly with unwanted tears. “Did you tell them she’s gone?”

“They knew… Jimin said her flame burned for 12 years after the battle of Great Bay. They searched for her everyday until then… Now they search for her son.”

Yoongi's heart stuttered painfully in the wake of your words.

“...Her son?”

“They saw she had a child -  a new flame. Taehyung has seen glimpses of you in visions for years, but the wards protecting royalty - like you - were simply too strong to penetrate. The mages don’t have the power they once did. Their energy flows from the land and people of Eastril and since the Great Wars - both have suffered considerably.”

The chaos in Yoongi’s mind was deafening- immense, and the path ahead had never been more unclear.

“If this is true, then…”

“...Then you are not the child of a fateless Eastrili warrior - but of two ancient royal lines. Yours is the bluest blood in this castle. Not even the king can claim such a lineage.” 

After a moment, you reached back to remove your earring, offering it to the prince with an open palm.

“I owe you my life... And I know you’ve never wanted to be a king. There’s still time to take your token and disappear. I’ll never force you as I have been forced.”

The words are painful, but you must continue - even if it shattered your heart.

“Jimin is the high mage now. He plans to marry Lindy on the night of the Summer Solstice. They’ve arranged to smuggle her out of the country on a private fishing vessel in two days… and if you want- you can go with her.”

Carefully, you draw his hand to your heart, pressing the familiar silver ornament into it.

“Your mother’s earrings and his word is all it will take for you to assume your rightful place among them. Reclaim your token. You can wash your hands of this and I swear I’ll never reveal the truth of who you are...or-” 

“...Or?” 

His fingers closed over the token, weighing it along with your words and their inevitable consequences.

“Or stay,” you whisper - trying desperately not to plead with him. “Fight for your birthright. Lead our people. The light of Eastril is fading, but with the might of Norlandria at your disposal, you can bring it back... Claim your destiny.”

After a moment, your eyes met his with quiet trepidation... and a fierce spark of hope.

“...Claim me.”

His gaze never wavered from yours. The soft sound of metal shifting in his hands reached you even before you understood his intent.

Your heart pounded wildly as Yoongi threaded the familiar clasp through your ear. 

“You...are mine.” 

Then he crushed his mouth to yours.

This time there were no inhibitions, no distractions, no crippling guilt.  

The cloak went flying across the room as Yoongi swept you into his arms, moving forward till your back hit the plush surface of his bed.

“Years I wanted you - wished for you,” he whispered, dragging his mouth down your neck till he reached the sensitive hollow right above your collarbone. “And you’ve been mine all along.” 

His lips latched on to your skin, sucking a deep purple mark at your pulse point. The strange mixture of pain and pleasure had you whimpering helplessly. You needed more. More of this delicious pressure. More of him. 

Yoongi’s hand wrapped around your wrists, pinning your arms above your head. Your body was soft, ripe - irresistible -

Perfect simply because it was yours.

His breathing grew labored as he drank you in.

“Touch me,” you pleaded, “I’ve waited long enough.”

He grinned.

“Yes, my lady.”

The prince’s reputation for seductive debauchery was primarily the result of some overblown gossip surrounding a few (memorable but) isolated incidents in his wild youth.

However overblown they might be, you quickly discovered that the rumors were not - in fact - unfounded as Min Yoongi proceeded to thoroughly debauch you.

The brief speech your mother traumatized you with on your sixteenth birthday had not prepared you for the feeling of his mouth working over your heated core or the shattering ecstasy that shot through you when his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud nestled there.

Your nails clawed over his back as he explored and unraveled your body in ways you had never imagined. Every time you reached the edge of pleasure, he pushed you farther; praising and teasing you with filthy delicious words till you were mewling incoherently beneath him. 

Yet he was gentle as you finally took him in, filling and stretching you intimately with extraordinary patience (though he would later confess that going slow after wanting you for so long nearly killed him). 

When the pain faded, all that was left was indescribable pleasure. 

Release left you both sated and completely spent. You did not remember drifting to sleep, but you awoke several hours later to find Yoongi examining the results of your coupling with bemused curiosity. 

His eyes lingered on the flecks of red scattered over your thighs and the white sheets of his bed. 

“Her maidenhead shall be the sign...”

Primal satisfaction rose within him as he took in the marks he’d drawn over your body with his mouth. Marks you’d begged for. 

Perhaps he was a bit of a savage after all...

“That’s always been my absolute favorite line of the prophecy,” you muttered sleepily, letting your head drop into the pillow with an audible huff. 

“Having the entire kingdom routinely discuss my virginity over breakfast for the last several centuries was utterly delightful. Perhaps now they can finally talk about the weather.”

Yoongi laughed, untangling himself to retrieve a damp cloth from the basin on his dressing table.

“I doubt it.” 

His hands gently tended to your aching core and thighs, wiping them carefully with the cloth while you rested in comfortable silence.

“I truly never wanted power you know…” He laid aside the rag and drew you close once again. “Aside from being in your arms, this is not the path I would have chosen.”

You smiled, letting your fingers entwine with his,

“I think that’s probably why you are meant for it... You were the only one who looked past the prophecy and the power I represented and saw me. You read my letters, honored my choice...The saints tell us that ‘a man proves his greatness in the small moments’... You care for the people - not for the power of being king - and so you will be a great king.

Yoongi brushed a soft kiss against your head.

“You know they’ll fight us. Aurengi will not surrender easily - if at all. There will be violence - bloodshed.”

“...Yes,” you whispered.

“Are you afraid?”

“A little...but I’m also certain... Certain of this. Certain of us.” 

After a moment, you shifted slightly in his arms, leaning back until you were face to face.

“We have made our choice… Whatever is coming, we’ll defeat it together.”

His forehead lowered gently to rest against yours.

“Together,” he promised, letting his love for you burn away any lingering trace of fear.

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

Ask My Muse: Have a question for the characters in this work? Send it to my ask box and hear their side of the story.

Endnote: There are many types of magic in the world, but for a writer, feedback and reblogs are the most powerful. I poured my heart into this story and if you enjoyed it at all please (pretty please?) let me know and consider sharing. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work!

Taglist: @callmeyourstarrynight​  

Masterlist: I got more where that came from... 

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

#min yoongi #btswriterscollective #bangtanhq #btswritersnet #kwritersworldnet #heartsforbts #armysource #bts #bts yoongi #bts suga #bts fairytale #bts fantasy au #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #bts scenario #min yoongi fanfiction #bts fanfiction #my writing #my gif #lady artemesia #yoongi #bts fairytale au #bts min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #bts fic

[jjungkookislife]

Come

↬ pairing: jungkook x f. reader

↬ genre: established relationship, smut [18+]

↬ summary: You can’t resist Jungkook and his tattoos.

↬ wc: 627

↬ warnings: cursing, fingering (f. receiving), squirting, marking 

↬ a/n: couldn’t resist after finally seeing him in a short-sleeve shirt!

↬ date: May 3, 2020

Your breathing’s labored. Your body trembled as you gripped the sheets so tightly your fingers ached. Jungkook didn’t care. His smirk had you clenching around the three tattooed fingers he was pumping in and out of you. His hair fell over his eyes as he hovered over your body, his face inches from yours. The necklace that hung from his neck swung back and forth over your chest, the cool metal grazing your heated flesh. 

“I can’t,” you whimpered, embarrassed at the obscene noises your pussy made as he fucked you with his fingers. He could feel the embarrassment radiating off your body, but Jungkook didn’t care. His tattooed knuckles filled you, pushed in, and curled to make you gasp. His lips met yours, his tongue pushing past the seam of your lips. 

A stream of moans spilled from your lips, your thighs clenching shut as his thumb rubbed at your clit. Your body spasmed. Jungkook chuckled as he sat up to admire you as you admired the tattoos on his arms. You wanted to trace each one with your fingertips, watch him flex for you ‘cause he knew it turned you on. Something about his hands and arms aroused you, and he knew that; he used it to his advantage in times like these. His smirk grew larger. He shook his hair out of his beautiful doe eyes, the movement causing his black and silver earrings to shake, capturing your attention for a split second.  

Jungkook loved the lust-filled look you gave him, his movements speeding up. He could tell by the tremors of your body that you were nearing the edge, and he wanted to get you there; wanted to watch you come undone. He reveled in the dulcet sound of your voice, loved the way you arched for him, trying to get his fingers to fuck you deeper as you desperately tried to muffle your moans by biting your bottom lip, but it didn’t work.  

“Jungkook, please,” you begged, whimpering as he drew rigid circles on your clit, his lips meeting yours. You moaned against his lips, your hands lacing in his hair, tugging at the strands. Jungkook released a guttural groan, one that went directly to your cunt, it seemed. Jungkook chuckled, kissing your neck and nipping at the column of your throat, sweet moans and grunts escaping him as he ruts into the mattress for some relief.

“That’s it, baby. Let go for me,” he encouraged, your arousal coating his fingers and his wrist. His cock throbbed in the confines of his boxers, aching to be released and sheathed inside your wet cunt.  

“If you want to take my cock, you need to come for me, love. Can you do that? Can you come for me, baby?”

“Y-yes,” you stuttered, growing wetter as your body felt like it was on fire. Pleasure courses through your veins, moans and delighted sighs filling the room as Jungkook continued his ministrations. He knew you were close. He could tell by the look in your eyes and the way your voice seemed to go up an octave. He had memorized all your tells after five years of dating.  

“Come on, baby. Come for me,” he murmurs as he kisses your neck, nipping at the flesh to mark you as his. “Come if you want my cock.”

“Oh fuck, Jungkook!” You cry out, thighs quivering as tears roll down your eyes, your body finally giving in as you orgasm, squirting all over his hand and up to the tattoos on his forearm.  

“Fuck,” Jungkook rasps, his eyes on his soaked skin as he cautiously removes his fingers from your cunt. He licks his lips, admiring the fucked out look on your face. “Can you do that again?”

thank you for reading! ♡ if you liked it, please let me know! 💌

© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.

#bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #btswritersnet #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader isert #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook idol!au #jungkook tattoos smut

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 11.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: voyeurism, exhibitionism, filmed sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), big dick namjoon serving us tripod realness, dom!joon, and when i say dom i mean both dominant AND domestic : ), impregnation kink, daddy kink, praise, dom!jimin, sub!reader in both of these scenes, lingerie kink (m wearing), copious teasing, very light spanking, french kissing, lapdance, the jimin scene is filthier than the tags give it credit for ngl, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing/eating, aftercare (as always) 

banner designer @jamaisjoons​ | thank you everyone in the sfhs server, you bring me so much joy, motivation and good ideas | AND finally thank you to the anon that suggested [redacted] jimin i legit replanned everything just to make that his prompt

DAY TWELVE

The mattresses in the room of bunk beds are surprisingly comfortable. The metal springs squeak a little if you move too much, but you wake up feeling well-rested.

“Not too bad, right?” Hoseok chirps, swinging out on the ladder and jumping down onto the floor with a thud. Using his laundry from the day before, he unceremoniously swaps his sleep shirt and boxers for some deep green skinny jeans and an orange sweater. Namjoon, more modest and distinctly more sleepy, grabs his clothes and stumbles back to his own room.

“The beds? Better than I was expecting for sure.”

Hoseok smiles warmly as you hop down the ladder and arrive on steady ground again, toes curling into the carpet. He fiddles quickly with a chunky watch, doing up the links. “Breakfast is downstairs if you want it.”

You throw him a teasing grin. “Not if you’re making it, thanks.”

He has the good graces to pretend to be offended, before tugging you into a playful side-hug, ignoring your squeak of surprise. “No, you cheeky fucker, Jungkook bought pancake mix. He texted me saying there’s plenty for everyone.”

“Jungkook making breakfast?” you ask dubiously, but the warm image of pancakes for breakfast makes your stomach growl. “Let me get dressed real quick and I’ll come down.”

Jungkook, it seems, is starting out the day cheerful as ever. He gives you a big grin when you, Namjoon and Hoseok come down for breakfast, and he makes sure to dish up the biggest pancakes for you, before taking the second biggest for himself.

Jin raises a teasing brow when you come down accompanied by the two men, Namjoon still with his hair ruffled up awkwardly from his slumber. “Long night?” he questions with a cheesy wink.

Hoseok catches on to the teasing nature, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Sadly, Namjoon wanted a rest day, so we didn’t enjoy any funny business.”

Jungkook watches the three of you closely, lips tightening just a little bit before he breaks out into a cheeky smile. “I think Y/n would have been too tired out to do anything more anyway.”

You choke on air, a forkful of pancakes blessedly not in your mouth yet. Beside you, Hoseok chuckles awkwardly. “Goodness, JK, we heard enough yesterday. The gym walls are not as thick as they should be.”

Instead of blushing like you are, Jungkook puffs his chest up. “I’ve never heard Y/n scream like that with any of you guys. Then again; I bet you haven’t made her squirt like I did.”

This time you aren’t so fortunate, coughing on a mouthful that you’d anxiously stuffed in to keep yourself occupied. You send Yoongi a grateful look as he slides you a glass of water.

“Jesus, Jungkook,” Jin grimaces, “we’re trying to eat breakfast.”

You keep your eyes down, confused by Jungkook’s behaviour and more than a little embarrassed.

When you hear Namjoon speak up, his voice is strangely tensed. “That’s really not appropriate.”

A heated pause. “This is literally a porn show,” Jungkook states defensively, “sex is the whole reason we’re here. I think everyone’s forgetting this is a competition about being the best in bed, I’m just- You know what, never mind, pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“You just what?” Namjoon questions. It’s unlike him to be argumentative, and you shift in your seat, taking another sip of the ice-cold water. “Did you really make us all pancakes just so you could gloat? Y/n is a person, not a video game, Jungkook. Have a little respect.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, but when you glance up, the frustrated rolling of his eyes and furious stabbing of his fork in a pancake speaks volumes.

Yoongi pinches his brow. “Jin-hyung, can you pass the syrup? Thanks.”

Namjoon stares expectantly at the youngest Gentleman for a few moments, before letting out a light huff and returning to his food.

Silence continues for a moment or two before Taehyung pipes up, voice tiny in the oppressive tension. “How many people still have to do their prompts this week? I haven’t done mine yet.”

Yoongi sends him a lightly exasperated look. “Really?”

Taehyung gives a small shrug, glancing to the camboy sitting beside him. “I mean… I don’t think we need to be explicit but this show is about sex. I feel like it’s equally bad if we don’t talk about it at all, you know?”

“The kid’s right,” Jin allows with a wry grin. “I’ve done mine. Tuesday; though I suppose some of you saw.”

Jimin cocks his head, lost. “Saw? Uh, yes, I haven’t done my prompt yet. Actually, uh, if you guys wanna take part, stay in the lounge tonight. I need an audience.”

You send him an inquiring look. “What about me?”

Jimin lets out a short laugh. “Your participation is kind of mandatory. Please stay in the lounge too.”

You appreciate the slow brushes of conversation that ease the tension away. “Am I an audience member or a volunteer?” You grimace suddenly. “Wait, fuck, it isn’t like a circus act or something, right? You aren’t a magician?”

“Don’t worry, the show won’t be that kind of magic,” he promises.

You go to reply, but your attention is caught by the way Jungkook is openly glaring at Namjoon like he’s waiting for something. “Kook?” you question.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. “Why aren’t you saying anything now, Namjoon? So they get to talk about sex but I can’t?”

Jin sucks in harshly through his teeth, sending a look of alarm to the youngest. “Okay, break it up, that’s enough. Jungkook, any more smart comments and you can leave. We’ll talk privately if you need it.”

Jungkook lets out a bitter scoff, but Namjoon is already rising hastily, banging the edge of the table in his haste to get up. “I’ll go,” he urges, “you all can enjoy your breakfast in peace.”

Nobody seems to even breathe as the sounds of Namjoon’s footsteps fade away, a door upstairs shutting harshly.

Yoongi has his face bent, thumb and forefinger pressing to his forehead, like a headache is coming on. “What the fuck was that?” he muses tiredly.

Jungkook doesn’t answer, staring at his pancakes like he’s trying to make them burst into flames.

You bite your tongue harshly, unsettled by how tempers flared so quickly. Unsure of what to do, you stare at Jungkook for a moment. You don’t want it to seem like you’re picking a side, but he has five others around him, and Namjoon is upstairs alone. You slide your chair out, quieter than last time. “I’m just going to check on him. Jungkook; you’re fine, I’m not angry.”

He breaks out of his death stare at his breakfast to send you a look of bewilderment, but Yoongi is already clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “Well, I am,” the second eldest declares, and you rush upstairs before the scolding begins.

Namjoon answers, albeit reluctantly, when you knock on the door and call out to him. He’s well and truly awake and alert now, hair combed down sullenly, the purple looking more faded than ever against the rich blue of his long-sleeved t-shirt. “Are you okay?” he asks with a tired frown.

Your brows lift automatically. “That is the exact question I came up here to ask. Can I come in?”

His bedroom is even more tidy than usual, now that he hasn’t been sleeping there. You sit down on the edge of his bed, feeling an unsettling swirl of dread.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook,” is the first thing out of his mouth as he sits down beside you, shoulders hunched like he’s making himself as small as possible.

You shake your head slowly. “You shouldn’t apologise on other people’s behalf. He’ll say sorry if he wants to.”

Namjoon pauses for a moment. “Then I’m sorry about contributing to the uncomfortable atmosphere.”

Despite the situation, your mouth quirks into a grin and your eyes soften. “Forgiven. I’m more worried than angry, you know? About the both of you.”

Namjoon lets out a sigh, eyes dancing aimlessly around the room, no doubt pondering complex concepts at the speed of light like he usually was. “This is probably to be expected, right? Tension. I didn’t think I’d be the one involved, though.”

“Ah, it wouldn’t be a reality show without some drama,” you allow, scooting back on the bed so you can tuck your feet up, crossing your legs. “We’ve just gotta move past it, I guess.”

“Didn’t it make you uncomfortable?” Namjoon blurts suddenly, cringing at the volume of his voice. “Him talking about you so publicly like that?”

You run your tongue along the inside of your cheek. “It took me off guard for sure. I don’t know; I guess sex is kind of our currency in here, you know? Him being so, uh, bold about it out of nowhere is pretty weird, though.” You shrug it off. “Maybe he slept bad last night.”

Namjoon searches your face. “I’m too much of a prude, aren’t I? Things like that bother me, so why did I sign up for a porn show?”

You turn to face him, brows knitted in sympathy. “Just because others are more open doesn’t mean being modest is a bad thing. Don’t let Jungkook’s bad mood make you believe that you don’t belong on the show or that you need to change. Okay?”

The two of you share a tender moment of eye contact, before Namjoon laughs shyly and turns his head away. You grin at him. “What?”

“It’s stupid,” Namjoon deflects, “it’s not the time.”

“Not the time for what?” you press. “Tell me; I’m curious now.”

Namjoon’s eyes dart up, pausing briefly at your lips. “I just… I really wanted to kiss you.”

Your heart swells, but you keep your face open, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “Then you should kiss me.”

All the breath leaves his lungs in a rush, but before he can inhale again, he’s propelling himself forward, wide hands cradling your jaw steady so your lips can join, a little uncoordinated but perfect nonetheless.

The small whimper of surprise is muffled by his lips, but you quickly melt into him, hands clutching at the front of his shirt for stability.

You can taste the remnants of breakfast, the sweet stickiness of maple syrup on his lips. You deepen the kiss to seek out more of the flavour, breaths escaping your nose as you don’t dare part for a second. Namjoon seems equally enraptured, shy flicks of his tongue making your head spin.

You lean in until your wrists are pinned between his chest and yours, and then lean in more, wanting to be close. Like oxygen to fire, the more contact you get the more desperate you become, and when his hands lower to lift you easily onto his lap, grinding you unconsciously against his erection, you feel ablaze.

“I need to-nm-do my prompt,” Namjoon murmurs out, teeth catching on your tongue with how deeply you kiss.

You swallow, leaning back slightly to take a breath in. “We don’t have to now,” you assure, moving your hands up to stabilise yourself on his shoulders so that he cranes his neck up to chase your lips. “Or have you graduated from Hoseok’s School of Sexual Prowess already.”

You smile down at the way his eyes flutter shut with a crooked grin, delicate crescent moon lash line a deep brown against his tanned skin. His lips are flushed and swollen, and he swallows like a man parched before he speaks, blinking blearily up at you. “I prefer to learn on the job,” he quips hoarsely.

You grin, leaning down to nudge him slightly to the side with your nose, giving you a better angle to leave a trail of light kisses from the corner of his mouth to the top of his jaw, tugging on his earlobe just enough that you feel his dick twitch against you. “What’s it gonna be, then? Am I a naughty student? Slacking receptionist? Do I need to sign for a package, delivery boy?”

The chuckle Namjoon lets out is pained and reluctant. “Was that what you were hoping for? It’s a bit more romantic than that.”

“Romantic is good,” you assure, letting his arms on your hips hold you steady as you lean back and search his face. “Do I get any more clues? Tell me something.”

When he blinks up at you, there’s something open and earnest in his gaze, like he’s left behind that shy boy that blushes at any mention of sex. “Let me show you, love.”

He cradles your back and lays you down on his bed so delicately it takes your breath away. Without speaking, he presses his lips to yours again, and once again you feel unanchored in an ocean, kept floating by the pressure of his proximity. Slower than usual, you move against each other; his hands bracing him up by the pillow, your leg hitched up over his waist to keep him close. Between the soft cushioning of his bed and the solid heat of his body, you feel secure and safe, eyes closed so that he fills your other senses entirely.

The sweetness of the maple syrup on his tongue and lips has long since melted away, but it leaves behind his natural flavour, one you think you prefer more. Aftershave still clings to his cheeks, tingling your nostrils, but past it is the bright candylike scent of his orange blossom shampoo, and they mix dizzily as the ends of his hair brush your skin.

Need begins to pool between your legs, but it doesn’t drive you, instead staying muted in the background like the pleasant heat of a bubbling jacuzzi, hips rocking lazily without any true purpose as you focus on the shocks of pleasure when your tongues connect.

It’s impossible to tell how long the two of you stay like that, no urgency or haste, just enjoying the intimacy and closeness of shared breaths and swollen lips. When he trails a hand down to slip under your shirt, even his slightly calloused fingertips running up your side is enough to make you whimper, sensitised to every touch.

Namjoon groans when his palm covers your breast, gripping it and swiping a thumb over your stiffened peak, arousing even through the fabric of your bra, his mouth only leaving yours for the second it takes to push your shirt over and off, connecting again with a small grunt of need.

Though Namjoon’s body is hot like a furnace against you, the open air still causes you to shiver, arching your back so Namjoon can blindly locate the hooks on your bra, able to slip it off you in no time at all.

This time, when his teeth tug at your lip and you feel the uninhibited contact of his fingertip tracing a circle around your nipple, it’s like a spike of electricity straight to your core, igniting that spark of full-blown arousal. Namjoon’s lips quirk against yours when you let a moan catch in your throat.

When he shifts down, you’re expecting his mouth on your breast, or perhaps him to sit up to take his own clothes off, but he doesn’t go nearly that far. Instead he presses your jaw up, exposing your neck but laying kisses on the underside of your chin first.

Perhaps it’s that you weren’t expecting that touch, or perhaps such a unique place isn’t used to that type of attention, but his swollen lips caressing just below your jaw feels magical, eyelids fluttering as he sucks so, so gently.

His hand never leaves your breast, massaging the flesh, tracing where your regular skin pebbles into the dusky areola, nail dragging teasingly over the bud, and your mind is working itself into knots trying to process all the sensations he’s stirring in you.

If his first time was thrilling, this was nothing short of electric, neon bursts of colour behind your eyelids the only thing you can see. As his kisses slowly venture lower, dipping to the base of your neck, pulse throbbing against him, you picture your nerve endings like purple strands of electricity in a plasma ball, lighting up with every touch of his fingers, lips and tongue to your skin.

“Na-Namjoon,” you gasp out, swallowing to ease the dryness in your throat, “don’t tease, I need you.”

Namjoon shifts lower, but not low enough, chin resting on your chest as he looks up at you with a pleased smile, clearly satisfied with his improvement from last time. “But love, there’s no rush. We have the rest of our lives, remember? To have and to hold,” he rumbles lowly, pressing  two light kisses to the top of your heaving breasts, “til death do us part.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

Namjoon’s lip twitches. “Oh,” he repeats playfully. Goosebumps break out on the tops of your arms at this sudden brazenness. He’d clearly been doing plenty of talking with Hoseok, and to see his hard work pay off in your pleasured reactions probably gave him a burst of confidence. “Are you going to be patient for me now, love? Let me savour you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, so you just nod shakily.

Satisfied with your response, Namjoon quirks a lip before using the very tip of his tongue to trail a circle around your nipple, just wide enough that the bud strains for his attention. Your fingers clutch his sides, annoyingly still clothed, as he moves to the other one, still giving your nipple a wide berth. “C-come on, Joonie,” you complain hoarsely, “I need more.”

When he looks up at you from below his lashes and sucks one nipple slowly into his mouth, tongue pressing it against his upper teeth, you hiss sharply, releasing the air in a breathy moan. Namjoon suckles at you gently, still languid but no longer avoiding your most sensitive areas, and the hand not propping him up begins rolling the other one between his fingers, making you shudder.

You’re so wet between your legs it’s growing uncomfortable, and so you cant your hips up towards him, hoping he gets the message. He tuts at you, but pulls off your nipple with a wet pop and sits up to undress further.

Namjoon shucks his own shirt without ceremony before his fingers find your waistband, and you let him slide off your pants and underwear as you lie back and enjoy the sight of his thick chest and smooth stomach, a trail of dark baby hairs disappearing past his jeans that you didn’t remember noticing the first time you slept with him.

He takes off those jeans, his boxers too, and joins you on the bed again, running a warm palm up your side. “I want to taste you,” he announces simply, carding a hand through his hair to keep it out of your face.

“Fuck, please.” You watch with wide eyes as he lies on his stomach, hands dipping under your thighs to lift and part them. The exposed air has you clenching instinctively, and you swear you can see his eyes dilate at the sight. “Namjoon,” you whine, back arching in impatience.

“Shh, love, I’ve got you,” he assures, peppering kisses from just below your knees, down your thighs until you can feel his breath on your core. “So beautiful.”

You can barely breathe, head propped up on the pillow to stare down the plains of your chest and stomach to the insanely attractive man between your legs. Though you’d grown fond of the kinkier, wild scenes - in fact, your dreams at night had taken a turn since joining the show - something about seeing Namjoon so at his element in this domestic atmosphere has you dripping.

Like he has all the time in the world, he locks eyes with you and blows a wave of slightly cool air over your folds. You breathe out a groan, sending him what you hope is a convincing-enough pleading gaze. He smiles placidly, licks his lips, ducks his head even further, and-

And blows another stream, this time narrowed and colder, directly over your clit. You shudder and buck instinctively in his grip, his hands on your thighs keeping you spread.

“Come on,” you gasp out, “Hoseok’s made you into a fucking demon!”

“Oh, trust me,” Namjoon murmurs, “Hoseok’s version was way kinkier than this. I’m trying to be romantic and sensual.”

You shift again, fruitlessly trying to wiggle your hips closer. “It would be really fucking romantic if you would actually put your mouth on my-ah!”

Just like you know Hoseok would (you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for this), Namjoon strikes when you least expect it, and when you most need it.

Though his mouth is small, his tongue is no less nimble, darting deeply through your folds to collect your juices and using them to slurp harshly at your clit. You jerk, hand shooting down to latch in his hair, but he continues that constant, unyielding vacuum until you’re squirming hopelessly beneath him, finally pulling off with the slightest graze of teeth.

“Happy now?” he retorts, swollen lips glossy with your slick. His hands tighten on your thighs. “Hold them.”

Invigorated by his command, you rush to grasp the backs of your knees, keeping your legs up and spread for him. “Fuck, so good, Joonie, w-want more.”

Now with two hands freed, it’s no surprise when two fingers find their way into your wet heat, twisting inside you with every smooth thrust. His chin is smeared with your wetness when he lowers it to continue laving his tongue over your sensitive clit, but he groans sinfully into you, like he’s getting just as much pleasure from it as you are.

Once he really gets going, he’s merciless, his fingers so thick that you don’t even need a third one to really feel him filling you, hooking up to rub at your g-spot every now and again to hear the involuntary whimpers you give out.

You hold onto your own knees for dear life, writhing under him as a hot coil tightens inside you. “Fu-fuck, Joonie, I’m getting close.”

His mouth detaches from your clit for a bare moment, enough for him to pant out a groan and stare lustily up at you. “Don’t cum yet,” he instructs lowly, “you’re going to cum on my cock this time, love.”

You whine, biting your lip harshly to try and distract from the building pleasure. “Then you have to- have to stop, Joonie,” you shudder out reluctantly.

To your surprise, Namjoon is even more begrudging than you are, tugging out his fingers to chase a last few indulgent licks up your seam before he finally sits up to kneel, panting. “Are you ready for me?”

You feel yourself grow impossibly wetter at the sight of him grasping his length, slipping it through your folds to slick it up. “Yes, god yes, I need it, need your cock,” you garble.

Namjoon’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, before he presses his head to your entrance, sinking in barely an inch to test your reaction. “Can’t wait to fill you up, love,” he admits, abs clenching with the effort it takes to sink in slowly. “Fuck a baby into you, my perfect girl.”

Your heart races at his words, clenching around. “God, yes, Joonie, please.” Though all the Gentlemen were well aware you were on birth control, there was something wildly erotic about the thought of it. “Fill me up, wanna be good for you.”

Finally he bottoms out, and your thighs shake at the stretch. With your hips tilted up, it almost feels like he’s fucking right into your stomach, so deep your mind struggles to process the sensations. He heaves a few breaths, giving you a chance to squeeze around him experimentally and grow accustomed to him filling you so completely.

You mumble out your permission for him to move breathily, the air punched out of your lungs when he pulls out only to drive deep inside of you in one slick thrust. Your mouth drops open once he begins to thrust, holding onto your knees for dear life as they tremble uncontrollably.

“God, look at you,” Namjoon pants out, chest heaving with excitement or exertion, perhaps a mix of both. One of his palms presses against the top of your stomach, increasing the pressure of his cock inside you. “‘Be so beautiful with my baby inside you, love, tummy swollen. I’ll take good care of you, would you like that?”

You have to squeeze your eyes shut to put all your focus into speaking. “Ye-yeah, I want that, Joonie,” you manage to articulate, his length keeping your mouth watering whenever he’s inside you. “Gonna be such a good daddy, Joon.”

Like a switch being flicked, Namjoon suddenly jerks, going rigid. Your eyes open blearily when he stills inside you, and you moan openly at the fucked-out look on his face, his eyes lidded and hair wild.

“S-say that again,” he commands, and your mouth drops open at the desperate grate to his voice.

So Namjoon liked to be called… “Daddy,” you whine experimentally, grinning when his cock twitches, hips juddering. “Want you to fuck me, Daddy, please move.”

“God, love, so fucking perfect for me,” he makes out before he starts off again with a renewed vigor, hands kneading at your breasts, at the flesh of your hips, at your ass as he lifts you up to meet his every thrust.

The feeling of him fucking into you so intensely has you feeling delirious, unsure if the ringing in your ears is actually the sounds of your own cries, torn from your throat with every slap of his balls against your ass, the weight of his hips jerking you into the pillow more and more every time.

You feel the pressure of his body hovering just above you, the angle of his thrusts changing, then suddenly his mouth is on your breast again, sucking harshly at the nipple. With the way your body moves beneath him, he can’t help but scrape his teeth against you a couple times, but it just makes the pleasure soar higher, neon starbusts of colour behind your eyelids when you squeeze them closed.

“Close again,” you warn desperately, losing the grip on one of your knees due to the sweat gathering there. With one up and one down, the angle changes again, and you reach out blindly to latch onto his upper arm, screaming at the heights of pleasure. “Can I cum this time, Daddy, please let me cum!”

“Fuck, give it to me, cum for me,” he growls out around your breast, and you see stars.

The orgasm that rips through you is powerful enough that all your senses fade suddenly away, unable to feel anything expect a rush of pleasure all the way down to your toes, boneless yet convulsing as he pistons his hips into you once, twice, three more times until he’s taken by the way you clench tightly around him.

He laps clumsily, wetly at your nipple as he spills inside you, before the two of you are completely drained of energy. Panting, heaving, you don’t even manage to catch your breath before you’re falling into slumber, Namjoon still inside you.

--

“He told us to wait here, right?” you ask anxiously.

There are six of you gathered on the couches in the lounge. Television off, the silence is weirdly uncomfortable. Perhaps that’s just because you know that everyone is waiting here not only to see Jimin, but to see what Jimin is going to do to you.

Hoseok, tucked into the smallest corner of the couch on the right, huffs lightly at your question. “He’s Jimin, Y/n. Either he’s up there primping or he’s just making you wait to be obnoxious.”

Perched beside him with a glass of whisky, two fingers full, Yoongi sends a droll glare to Hoseok. “Bold words for a man who’s choosing to watch the show.”

“I’m curious, sue me.”

“I think we all are,” Namjoon adds, curled up beside you in the central position of the three couches. “I think the only one that knows his prompt is Tae.”

Taehyung turns to answer, propped up against Jin’s side on the left, but the eldest interrupts, a crease of worry between his brows. “Not all of us, it seems,” he points out. “Don’t you find it strange that Jungkook isn’t here?”

“Does he know?” Taehyung wonders, fingers dipping into his pocket to reach for his phone.

Yoongi frowns. “He knows. He asked me not to make him anything for dinner tonight. Said he wasn’t feeling well. Didn’t seem like he was sick, just… distressed. I think you should talk with him, Jin.”

Jin sucks in a breath, pauses, and exhales again, jaw flexing. “Sure.”

The six of you lapse into a slightly strained silence again, before Namjoon gets restless, shifting beside you until he finally clears his throat and looks up at Yoongi. “What is for dinner, hyung?”

“We didn’t really have much for lunch, so I’m thinking steak and pasta,” the doctor offers up. “There’s some carbonara sauce in the pantry that looks good.”

Taehyung coughs nervously. “Do we have steak? I didn’t think there were-”

“We had plenty this morning when I checked,” Yoongi cuts in evenly. “Should I be aware of any recent developments?”

The masseuse pouts, leaning further into Jin’s side like he’ll protect him. “Well… It’s just that I feel so bad for Mango! The kennel I bought online isn’t as insulated as I hoped it would be and I know she gets lonely.”

Yoongi groans, going lax on the leather of the couch. “So you figured she’d what? Cuddle with the steaks?”

“I just figured maybe if I gave her nice food she’d cheer up,” Taehyung adds, “and it was just two! Are you mad at me?”

“No, I guess I’m not. Jungkook isn’t eating anyway, and…” Yoongi grins. “As penance, you can have plain pasta and watch the rest of us enjoy our perfectly cooked steaks.”

Taehyung throws himself against Jin dramatically, but even as he moans in misery, a relieved smile crooks at his lips. “I suppose,” he drawls begrudgingly, and once again a light atmosphere fills the room, like everyone’s just sighed out a breath of relief.

You lean onto the arm of the couch, facing Taehyung. “Tae, Jimin’s prompt isn’t too, like, intense, right?”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean? For him or for you?”

“Uh…” Your mind whirls blankly, cheeks heating up as you draw the attention of the other guys. “For- for me. So far some of the scenes have been pretty taxing, and I guess I just didn’t expect such a jump up from Week One.”

Instead of laughing or teasing, the others go a little solemn, perhaps even bashful. “Jimin’s isn’t super crazy, Y/n, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures quickly.

Yoongi bites down hard on his tongue, jaw popping. “We didn’t go too hard on you, did we?”

You suck in a breath. “I mean- No, not individually. It builds up though, you know?” Something niggles in the back of your mind, something you’ve wondered for a while. “Do you guys talk about it?”

Hoseok hesitates. “About fucking you?”

Your cheeks are on fire as you curl up small in the corner. “Not- Not that specifically, but just… Do you guys discuss who goes when and who has what? I kinda wondered why you spread yourselves out, if it’s just a coincidence or if you- Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“We kinda do,” Hoseok admits freely. “Like, obviously we don’t all sit down in a room brainstorming or something-” You don’t miss the way Taehyung and Namjoon instinctively lock gazes, though you can’t quite read their expressions. Hoseok continues, “but we do chat with each other and try and give each other space.”

Jin shrugs easily. “Yeah, like, I’ll just say in the groupchat, ‘I’m planning on doing my scene outside, look outside at your own risk’ or whatever.” The eldest stiffens as he’s fixed with several glares of alarm, including your own. “What? Were we not meant to tell her about the groupchat?”

Your mouth drops open. “You guys have a groupchat without me? I wanna see!”

“That defeats the purpose of you not being in the group chat,” Yoongi points out, though his grin is more sheepish than mischievous.

You make a noise of exasperation, ready to protest further, but before you can open your mouth the doorbell rings.

Everyone freezes.

After a moment, the doorbell rings again.

“You should go get it,” Taehyung supplies helpfully, eyes on you. “Might be interesting.”

Your heart picks up with the cool thread of adrenaline. It’s time. All eyes are on you as you sit up and make your way out to the foyer, the tile cool under your bare feet.

Though the door is a rich mahogany, clouded glass panels on either side betray a dark figure, perfectly still. Even though you can barely see the outline, there’s no deny the expectant tilt of their head belongs to none other than Jimin.

By the time you pad up to the door and turn the knob, his hand is outstretched to ring the bell a third time, and his mouth parts in surprise before giving you a pleasant beam.

You’d been wondering if he was meant to be a delivery guy, a mechanic, something along those lines, but your first glance over him proves you wrong.

His blue hair is glossy enough to reflect the light of the lamp above the doorway, curled in graceful swoops on his forehead and temples. Though he always wore makeup, it was clear he’s set to impress, with a bold russet red lip, powerful black eyeliner and a spot of gold under each eye.

He’s taller than usual, and you glance down automatically, to be greeted with the most gorgeous black heels, stiletto points giving him an extra few inches of height. The shoes make his legs look a mile long, and you suck in a breath as you follow them up, realising they’re completely bare, the only adornment a sinfully tight pair of black fishnets that dig in to his thighs and calves.

In fact, all he seems to be wearing otherwise is a black trenchcoat, falling to mid-thigh and with the sash tied so tightly it accentuates his narrow waist.

All put together, he looks like sin personified, the kind sailors drown for. You can’t help but want to dive in yourself. Trying to go along with the roleplay, you play dumb. “Do I, uh, do I know you?”

Jimin’s smile broadens as his arm falls, hand resting snugly on his hip. “You will soon, sweetness.” Usually one for pinks, nudes and clear glosses, seeing him suddenly in a deep red makes you realise just how full his lips are. You miss the feeling of them on you. “Did Taehyung not tell you I was coming?”

“Did Tae-?” You clear your throat, unsure how to proceed. This Jimin was Amazonian; bruisingly pretty and intimidating in his grace. “I guess not? Was he supposed to?”

His eyes crinkle empathetically, darting past you into the foyer. “Let’s talk inside, shall we? I’m not exactly dressed for the outdoors.”

“Oh, fuck!” you blurt instinctively, and you swear his lip twitches before you’re backing away hastily, ushering him inside. “I’m so sorry, please come in! Do you want me to take your coat? I don’t- I don’t know what you need.”

Jimin steps inside and closes the door behind him in one smooth motion, punctuated only by the click of his heels on the tile. He reaches out to pat your cheek, only somewhat condescendingly. “No wonder, sweetness, you didn’t even know I was coming.” That isn’t quite true, but in the scheme of things, you may as well not have known he was doing his scene tonight at all for all it’s helping you. “Why don’t you lead me to Taehyung? I assume he’s here.”

“Of course he’s- I mean, yes, he’s here. Right this way.”

The two of you only have a short trip to the lounge, where no doubt the other five have been straining their ears to eavesdrop, but every strike of his heels against the floor behind you has the hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end.

In the lounge, the guys are all turned around in their seats to shamelessly ogle Jimin, Taehyung the only one without the gobsmacked look on his face - though even he takes in an unsteady breath at how gorgeous the man looks.

You make your way to him, standing awkwardly in front of the couch that him and Jin share. Turning back to face Jimin, you can’t help but match Taehyung’s reaction. Jimin looks even more radiant in the decent lighting of the room. You can see now his trenchcoat is a lush fabric, slightly thicker than silk, and deeply matte. Around the inside of the collar is a faint embossed silver logo, promoting Chanel as the designer of that piece.

Ignoring the stunned silence of the room, Jimin slinks immediately to Taehyung, tipping his chin up with his knuckles. “Did you not tell Y/n about me, hm?” he questions with a faux pout. “Kept it a secret, our naughty Taehyungie.”

The masseuse wilts pleadingly under Jimin’s gaze, and the responding wicked grin makes you think that Jimin probably told him to keep quiet, only to tell him off for it now. “Sorry, Minnie,” Taehyung mutters nonetheless. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Did you now?” Jimin lets go of him, stepping back. “I suppose we should get down to business, then. Are you all leaving, or do I have an audience tonight?” Glancing around imperiously, you watch as his eyes dart back and forth, smile faltering. His breath catches, eyes dull with disappointment that he quickly masks under a broad smile. “It’s just the six of you, then?”

Your heart aches as you think of the missing person still upstairs in his room. “Yeah, it’s just us.”

Always the professional, Jimin moves on without comment. “Well, then, sweetness; take a seat and get comfortable. You’re a lucky girl tonight.”

Your mouth feels dry even as it waters. Taking your seat beside Namjoon again, you watch in rapt anticipation as Jimin slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, fiddling with something on it as he strolls slowly into the center of the room, just in front of the television.

“We have a few rules,” Jimin announces. “No heckling, no getting drunk while I’m here, and no touching unless I give you permission. They’re simple, so I expect you to follow them. Got it?”

With his back to the group as he sets up his phone, you’re unsure who exactly he’s addressing, but some of you make general hums of confirmation, all the attention on Jimin.

When the music starts - a deep, thrumming beat with a sensual pace - you can see the change in him immediately, even from the back. His shoulders adjust, head tips back slightly like he’s letting it run through him, and his fingers find the knot of his sash.

You can barely comprehend the fact that Jimin is about to dance for you, breath caught in your throat when his hips begin to sway and the fabric of his trenchcoat loosens, slipping down just enough to reveal the tops of his shoulders, bare except two skinny black straps.

Following the groove of the music, he rocks his head back, hips shifting side to side, and lets the coat fall an inch at a time. A tight black bodice is revealed, structured leather with a soft velvet trim that covers most of his back. Sleeves dangling right at the ends of his fingertips, the coat dips just below the swells of his ass, which are clad in a racy g-string, a thicker band of lace low across his hips and a narrow one running down the middle of his cheeks. Letting the coat go completely, the last of his back silhouette is exposed, the leather garter straps that hold those fishnet stockings up.

“Shit!” Yoongi hisses under his breath, hands glinting in the light and whiskey glass significantly emptier than before. A dark patch spreads across one leg of his pants, evidence of him spilling his drink.

Though he was quiet, Jimin picks up on it, and turns smoothly, lightly surprised and heavily amused, watching Yoongi squirm in embarrassment as he approaches.

If the view from the back is breathtaking, seeing Jimin full-frontal is another level. The bodice has clearly been tailored for someone with a flat chest, but the shape no less speaks to the feminine style of a bra, roughly triangular leather covering the upper half of his chest to meet the smooth velvet straps. The whole piece is just short enough that it leaves a stripe of skin between fabrics, his hipbones jutting out gracefully and guiding your gaze lower, where the front of his lace panties strain with the size of his length, the tip threatening to peek out the top.

He’s hard, you notice with a start, and from the hazy look on everyone’s faces, they’ve noticed it too. Jimin likes this.

When he’s standing in front of Yoongi, towering over the other in his heels, he reaches out a hand silently, eyes darting to the glass in Yoongi’s hand.

The elder gulps, holding it up, blushing as Jimin wraps one hand around Yoongi’s wrist, and takes the glass from him with the other. In a graceful swill, he downs the last of Yoongi’s whiskey, not even wincing. Teasingly, he bends down to place the empty glass directly over Yoongi’s crotch, making him hiss.

Like he has all the time in the world, Jimin straightens up again and tugs the wrist in his grasp higher. Locking eyes, Jimin parts his lips and wraps them around the base of Yoongi’s thumb, sucking off the spilt liquor.

Yoongi groans lowly, cheeks stained red as his eyes flutter shut in a mix of pleasure and humiliation. As Jimin makes his way through all of Yoongi’s fingers, bobbing his head obscenely and swirling his tongue, you think you see the empty glass wobble on Yoongi’s lap, like his cock is twitching in his pants. Fuck. It’s not even you getting the full weight of Jimin’s attention and you already feel dizzy with need.

Once he’s done, Jimin lets go and Yoongi’s hand falls limply to his side. Satisfied, he moves to the center of the room again, hips fluid with the flow of the music.

A cursory glance around the room shows that you’re not the only one heavily affected. Beside you Namjoon is restless, shifting back and forth from spreading his legs to ease the pressure, and clenching them together to try and hide the bulge in his pants. Hoseok looks pale, eyes wide and locked onto Jimin’s ass as he walks away from their couch.

On the other side, Taehyung and Jin are significantly more shameless; Jin rests a hand on the back of Tae’s neck and tugs at the curls of hair there as the younger boy ruts against his thigh, curled into his side even as the two of them focus on the attraction in the centre of the room.

You can only imagine how fucked out you must look too, wriggling against the couch cushion seeking friction with your heart thudding in your chest. The effect is only heightened when Jimin locks his eyes to you and begins to dance.

One day, a few of you were gathered in this very lounge, having enough drinks to get a bit silly and uncoordinated. Jimin had told you all a little bit about his dancing career. From what he’d said, you formed this mental image of him in soft makeup and satin shoes, dainty but powerful in front of an adoring crowd. The way he spoke about music - too much of a heavyweight to be as incoherent as the rest of you - made it seem like it was his greatest love, a match made in heaven.

Though now pirouettes and grand jetés had been replaced by spread legs and lidded eyes, you could still see that passion he spoke of. It enchanted you like a snake charmer or a siren, and arousal entwines endlessly with awe in your stomach.

After what feels like the shortest eternity, the music of the first song fades out, and Jimin straightens up, exhaling a breath like he’s releasing its hold from his body to make room for the next.

The tune that fills the room next has a decently higher tempo than the first one, each beat punctuated by a clap, and he grins when he hears it, stalking forwards.

Between Jimin and the rest of you is a coffee table, and he makes his way around to Taehyung and Jin, eyes sparkling at how Taehyung straddles Jin’s thigh, blinking up at the dancer owlishly.

“Oh, baby,” Jimin coos, “enjoying the show?”

Taehyung nods, not shy but too wound up to speak.

At the lack of verbal response, Jimin grins, perching himself on Jin’s other thigh, making the eldest hiss. “Taehyungie,” Jimin calls in a sing-song voice, fingers winding into his hair, just above Jin’s, “you still haven’t paid me for my services, you know?”

“H-huh?” Poor Taehyung looks barely coherent, interrupted from his grind and staring weakly at Jimin’s glossy lips. You can’t imagine you’d be faring any better in his situation. “What- How do I pay you?”

Jimin faux pouts. “Normally I’m very expensive,” he admits lowly, but the room is silent apart from the music, and since it’s just playing from his phone, it doesn’t impede the rest of you listening in. “But I like you. I’ll take my payment tomorrow. You know what I mean, right?”

Taehyung nods dumbly, obediently, making the dancer grin wickedly.

Fixing his attention on Jin, Jimin trails his fingertips up his thigh and traces the outline of Jin’s cock in his makes, making him groan. “Take good care of my baby tonight, won’t you?”

Jin sucks in a shaky breath, eyes darting to Taehyung, but the curly-haired boy just whines and buries his face in the crook of Jin’s neck, a wordless display. “You got it, Min.”

From the other side of the room, a click of the tongue catches your attention. Hoseok is straight-faced, extricating himself from the corner of the couch to stand up and make his way out.

Jimin swiftly stands in front of him to impede his way. “Where are you going?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes with a shrug. “I came, I saw, I sated my curiosity. I’m not interested in waiting in line to be fondled, thank you very much.”

Jimin seems to have forgotten the music, eyes gleaming as he faces off the dom. “Poor baby too impatient to wait, hm? I’ll let you jump the queue,” he finishes in a husky voice, grinning.

Hoseok eyes the doorway behind Jimin, huffing impatiently. “Nice try. I’m not interested.”

Tipping his head to the side, Jimin’s brows lift in a mix of surprise and bemusement. “I’m inclined to disagree,” he says, taking a step closer so that only a sliver of air parts them. Hoseok stiffens, stubbornly avoiding looking at the dancer. “I’d venture a guess that you’re leaving so suddenly because you’re a little too interested.” Slow enough that Hoseok has plenty of time to refuse, Jimin runs his knuckles all the way down Hoseok’s front, brushing over his crotch. His grin widens, flashing white teeth. “Hmm.”

Hoseok scoffs and pulls himself away, neck and forehead slightly red. “Don’t get too cocky. It was from Taehyung, not from you, peaches.”

Even from the other side of the room, Jimin’s instinctual reaction is clear as day. His shoulders drop and his lips part, lashes fluttering before he can control the response.

If you didn’t miss it, Hoseok certainly didn’t either. He barks out a laugh, back in power again, and steps to Jimin’s side to pass him. “Knew it. Don’t miss me too much, then, peaches.”

Even as Jimin is shuddering at the petname again, Hoseok rears his hand back to smack Jimin’s ass with a sharp noise of impact, Jimin jumping forward with a startled squeak. “No touching!” the dancer hisses, one ass cheek already flooding with a sweet candy pink.

“Apologies,” Hoseok says with a teasing grin, already at the doorway, “I’ll see myself out.”

Jimin makes an indignant cry, but the older man is already bouncing up the stairs cheerfully. Determined to get the sexy atmosphere back, Jimin takes a deep breath and turns back to you all with a rueful smile, but it falters when the music fades out, the second song ending. “Ah,” he murmurs, “show’s over, kids.”

Namjoon, the only guy that hadn’t received any personal attention, sits up with a frown. “Wait, already?”

Jimin shrugs, smiling at him sweetly. “Sorry, Joon. Last song’s a private dance. Maybe another time.”

A private dance. Your breath quickens as Jimin turns off the next song that randomly came up on shuffle, collects his phone, and hitches his coat off the floor with the point of a stiletto, gathering it under his arm.

The others quietly start to stretch, sit up, Yoongi going to fill up his glass again. By the time Jimin makes his way to you, Jin has already lifted Tae up with a single arm under him, carrying the younger upstairs as Taehyung sucks shamelessly at his neck. Namjoon is slower to move, probably still a little worked up and edged from the show, but he joins Yoongi in the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone.

Once Jimin is directly in front of you, your breath stops. He’s gathered the lightest sheen of sweat from dancing, or perhaps that’s just the highlighter on his cheeks, and his eyes are hazed from the excitement of performing. He silently reaches a hand out to you with an enticing smirk.

You furrow your brow in confusion. “Not here?”

“I did say private. Unless you want me to fuck you where everyone can see?”

You gulp at the thinly veiled threat. “We can go.” You take his hand and let him lift you up with effortless strength, pausing when he looks at you expectantly. “Did I do something…?”

Jimin beams like you’re a cute but stupid pet. “I haven’t been here before, remember? Show me to your room, sweetness.”

“Oh!” You rush past him, hands catching to guide him out and upstairs. The thrill of excitement speeds your steps, and in no time at all he’s placing his coat and phone on your desk, guiding you to sit on the end of the bed.

The third song starts with the familiar smoothness of Beyonce’s voice, an older pop song that holds up still, and Jimin slips off the black straps of the bodice, another set directly below them. Arms tucking behind him, he begins to undo the clasps one by one.

“You were being very well behaved, you know, sitting there and waiting for your turn,” he muses, fiddling with the fabric behind him. “Now you get a reward.”

You don’t know what to say in response, just nodding wordlessly, but it seems he is content with that. After a moment, you notice the top half of the bodice pull away from his chest lightly, revealing not plain skin but more lace, matching the panties that struggle to cover his cock. He approaches you as he undoes the last few at the base, and slips smoothly between your legs, letting it fall to the side.

In front of you in all his glory, Jimin looks gorgeous, the inky swoops of his tattoo peeking out from under a sweet black lace bralette, the skinniest straps holding up the delicate cups. In the center is a tiny black satin bow, and you think you feel your heart give out a little at the sight of it.

Even in his pretty lingerie, he’s no less intimidating, and you shudder at the feeling of his eyes locked onto you, feeding on your reactions and pinning you to the bed.

“You like it?” the dancer asks, voice rough with arousal. You nod quickly, still too stunned for words. Jimin hums, winding a hand around the back of your neck. “Show me how much you like it.”

Before you can suck in a breath, his mouth descends on yours, and a shot of electricity runs through you as he spares no time for pecks and caresses. This kiss is nothing short of filthy, his tongue runs over your teeth, he bites your lips, he sucks on your tongue. You do your best to reciprocate enthusiastically, but there’s no question who’s in charge.

With how deep and primal it is, there’s no surprise when you feel your shared spit begin to collect in the corners of your lips and run down your chin. Jimin doesn’t stop, but lowers his mouth to lap it up, pushing it back in and continuing to fuck his tongue into your mouth.

You moan hopelessly into the kiss, hips rocking on the edge of the mattress fruitlessly and fingers holding on to his neck and shoulder for dear life. His teeth are sharp, nipping mercilessly at your bottom lip until your eyes sting, but it only serves to drive more need.

The music in the background livens up as it reaches the chorus, and suddenly the thought of the song finishing and him leaving you high and dry comes to mind. You tug yourself away from him, sucking the spit off your swollen lip. “Jimin,” you gasp out, “I want you.”

Jimin grins. Though his gloss is all but gone, the colour on his lips remains intact. “You aren’t gonna let me finish my dance, sweetness?”

“Wi-Will you still fuck me after the song ends?” you ask, feeling stupid for needing confirmation.

Jimin lets out a soft but condescending coo, hands squeezing your cheeks together so that your lips pout. “Poor baby just wants to get fucked, does she? Baby just wants a cock in her.”

Even as he mocks you, you can’t even defend yourself. “Please, Jiminie.”

He places a single light peck over your protruding and obscenely swollen lips. “Let’s make a deal; I’ll dance for the rest of the song, and if you can keep your hands to yourself, I’ll let you cum when I fuck you. Sound fair?”

At this point, you’d agree to anything, and both of you know it. “I can do it,” you insist even as your voice wobbles.

Instead of answering, Jimin begins to move, following the momentum of the music. Your hands lie at their sides, the duvet cool against your heated flesh.

He starts out easy, stepping back to give himself more space and slowly lowering into a crouch, the heels making his calves pop. Running his hands down his chest, fingers slipping under the lace, he sighs out like his own touch gives him unspeakable pleasure.

You grit your teeth. Watching him touch himself just makes you want to touch him more. He widens his legs, showing the place where the lacy band narrows down below his balls into a thin string. Whether it’s the angle or just the amount of moving he’s done, the tip of his cock has nestled up higher, poking out just to the side of his hip. Shamelessly, he runs a single fingertip over it, tapping so you can see the clear strands of precum that cling.

You let out an unsteady breath, relaxing slightly as the song begins to build to the final chorus. Not long.

Unfortunately for you, Jimin recognises the changing keys as well as you do, and he stands up smoothly, slinking towards you.

Instead of settling between your knees this time, he turns his back to you and bends down, folding himself in half to fully bare his ass. Hoseok’s handprint still pinkens the skin of one, and the sudden desire to reach out and see if it’s as warm to the touch as it looks overcomes you. You hiss and fist your hands in the fabric of the duvet cover, making Jimin stretch up with a laugh.

Merciless, Jimin widens his stance, choosing to sit on top of your lap, ass grinding on you. You can imagine this movement would be much more unbearable for a guy, but you still feel your resolve unravelling, taken by the fluidity of his hips, the lace accuentuating his slender waist, the pressure of his head as he tips it back onto your shoulder.

“This is so unfair,” you complain shakily, and are rewarded with the musical giggle Jimin lets out, bubbling from his arched throat right into your ear.

Luckily, the chorus ends, and the final notes settle down. Jimin’s hips still and he turns his head, lips just about brushing your cheek. “Good job, sweetness,” he praises warmly, “can I have another kiss?”

Your jaw jerks automatically before you catch yourself. Though it’s fading out, the song technically hasn’t ended yet. “Not yet.”

Shameless even as his ruse is exposed, Jimin just beams and twist around so that he’s straddling you face-on. He lowers his mouth to your collarbone, nibbling at the skin there as the beat fades and the overlaying instruments peter out. Though it must only be ten or fifteen seconds, it feels like forever as he rocks himself against you just like Taehyung had done to Jin - albeit less desperate and more strategic - and licks at the bite marks on your neck.

Finally, it goes silent, and you exhale deeply, hands automatically coming up to rest on his hips as he laughs lightly at your successful efforts. “I’m impressed,” he admits, “guess you get your reward after all, sweetness.”

So relieved that the heat between your legs will get some attention, you barely take notice of him standing up off you, at least not until he slips his cock fully out of the panties.

His cock, straining with being left unattended so long, is a far deeper pink than the mark on his ass, particularly around the head. He sucks in a breath through his nose as he strokes himself, before blinking down at you.

“Clothes off if you want me, sweetness.”

You could guarantee you’ve never undressed so quickly before, frantically enough that your hips are hot from the friction of tugging down your pants. You take no note, however, just spreading your legs wantonly as you eye up his cock.

“Fuck, look at you,” Jimin curses, bracing a hand on your hip as he lines himself up. “Don’t even need stretching, do you? Looks like Joonie opened you up for me already.”

Your cheeks burn, but there’s not enough time to dwell on the embarrassment, as Jimin holds you down with his grasp on your hip and bottoms out in a single thrust.

Even though he’s right, the sudden fullness has you gasping a moan, almost falling onto your back. You prop yourself up and widen your legs further, eyes locked on the sight of his cock, nestled underneath by the lushest black lace, buried deep inside you. “Fuck, please move.”

“My pleasure,” he coos with a sweet smile, before the smile drops to a slack pout of lust, snapping his hips with a deftness that you now know is due to his background as a dancer.

You fight to keep yourself sitting up, one hand around the back of his neck as he fills you with every stroke, but the angle isn’t quite right, and you find your pelvis shifting to find it.

Jimin notices your frustration, and wordlessly pauses, grips your thighs and tugs you forward so that you’re flat on your back, ass over the edge and held up by his upper body strength. Without you even processing the change, he’s returning to his ruthless place, and you sob from relief at the way your insides come alive with pleasure, so much stronger than before.

“Fuck, right there! Right- ungh, yes, Ji-Jimin,” you pant out, feeling unbearably hot all at once with the intensity of it.

Though part of you is still sore from the scene you had with Namjoon earlier, your swollen walls only increase the drag of him against your sensitive tissue, and you quickly turn incoherent, tongue so thick in your mouth that you open it, panting as your fingers clutch the duvet to anchor you.

“That good, huh?” Jimin notes with a laugh stuttered by grunts of exertion. Normally, you’d protest or retort, but with your ankles wrapped around him and back arching off the bed, there’s nothing on your mind but the enveloping urge to cum.

Rather than reply, you just let yourself drown in the sensations, vision going black as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your orgasm comes so fast that you don’t even notice it approaching, can’t even warn him. It’s like a clap of thunder, making you go stiff with a scream before turning completely boneless, legs slipping down off him weakly.

Jimin curses as you squeeze around him, but fucks you through it thoroughly, only slowing down once you begin to fuss, shivering and wriggling away.

Dazed from the sudden onslaught of pleasure, it takes you a few moments for the fog in your brain to clear. Once you do, you glance down and realise Jimin is still achingly hard, dripping with your slick and the remnants of Namjoon’s cum, but none of his own. He strokes it lazily, gaze searching your face.

So exhausted from two intense scenes in one day, you don’t think you could manage to jerk him off or give him a decent blowjob, but to leave him hanging would be cruel. Instead, you fumble to slide yourself off the bed, landing a little too hard on your knees.

“What are you- oh, Y/n, fuck,” Jimin exclaims lowly as you blink up at him and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. He gets the message easily, speeding up his strokes as his tip bounces on your tongue, brief sparks of the salty tang of your shared arousal.

He must have been close before, because it doesn’t take him more than a minute to fall over the edge, cumming into your mouth with thick spurts. A shame it couldn’t have been inside you a different way, but you nonetheless chase his cock, blade of your tongue dipping into his slit to make sure you’d gotten every last drop.

Jimin swears lowly, stroking your hair back fondly as you swallow, and helps you stand up on wobbly legs.

Leading you to the bathroom, Jimin sits you on the closed toilet seat as he runs a bath. Having slipped off his heels somewhere back in the room, he unhooks his garters as he waits for the tub to fill. With one leg resting on the high edge of the tub, rolling down the fishnets one at a time, you once again are silenced in awe of his beauty.

It feels unspeakably intimate to watch him unclasp the bralette, slip off the panties, and slowly take his makeup off, easily locating the makeup remover he’d borrowed from you that very first night.

Your eyes sting a little as you’re reminded of that time. It feels like an eternity ago, even though it’s just under a fortnight. You’d thought he was so intimidating back then. Though he still had the power to command attention, you’d seen enough of the kindhearted, thoughtful and sensitive man beneath that the Jimin two weeks ago felt like a very different man.

“Water’s ready.”

You blink yourself out of that train of thought, letting Jimin help you carefully into the tub, joining you on the other side, legs tangled. “Thank you,” you manage to say, still feeling a little out of it after a tiring day and a good orgasm.

Jimin beams, glancing away to obscure some of his face. It’s clear to you that the lack of makeup has him feeling a bit vulnerable. His skin is flushed red - either naturally or from exertion you couldn’t tell - and his brows were softer, eyes looking smaller without the shadow that emphasised them. He wasn’t any less beautiful like this, just more human. Comforting, in a way, as he passes you a washcloth and begins to lather himself up in strawberry-scented bodywash.

“Hey, Y/n,” Jimin starts, but his voice sounds weirdly stilted and unlike him.

“Mm?”

“My, um, my…” He lets out a light cough, avoiding your gaze with an air of forced aloofness. “Granny keeps asking about you. She’s convinced we’re dating, but that’s, uh, I’ve assured her we aren’t. She really liked you, and whenever we chat she asks to speak to you, and, um…”

You feel more coherent than you have in a good couple hours, sitting upright. “She does?”

Jimin laughs ruefully. “I never really knew how to ask you if you wanted to speak to her, or if I should even ask you at all-”

“So you thought now, while we’re both naked in a tub after you fucking my brains out is the right time?”

Jimin’s cheeks colour more as he splutters. “You can say no, I just didn’t want you to… I don’t know. You can say no.”

You beam at him. “I have one rule.”

“What?”

“I’ll hang out with Mrs. Park on one condition.”

The blue-haired boy stares at you warily. “Which is?”

You lean forward with a deadpan expression on your face, making him grimace in worry. “You let me sleep in your bed tonight,” you explain gravely, “I’m running out of options for this Bangasm Bomb thingy, and it’s only fair after you just took me out of commission like that.”

Jimin laughs in relief, throwing his head back with a joyous grin. “Deal! Don’t scare me like that.”

You return his smile, heart swelling from the fondness you hold for him. “Of course I’ll chat with your grandma, Jimin. I love her. She reminds me of you a lot.”

You may have said too much, but Jimin goes lax against the opposite end of the tub, smile never leaving his lips, and you don’t regret it for a second.

#bts x reader #bts smut #jimin smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #ficswithluv #networkbangtan #magicshopnet #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #bangtanidx #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #btswritersnet #ksmutclub #thekimlinenet #taejin #taehyung x reader #ot7 x reader #jungkook x reader #ot7 smut #hoseok x reader #jihope #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #yoonmin #vmin

[jingabitch]

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell ch.4

SUMMARY: when you were ten, taehyung adopted you and gave you a home. now that you’re eighteen, the sudden change in your scent perplexes and confounds him.

PAIRING: wolf hybrid!tae x human!reader (all bts members are hybrids)

WARNINGS: talk of ownership (reader is tae’s pet human) | (eventual) daddy long legs syndrome | angst | angst so fucking much angst | mentions of prostitution (but not explicitly described) | reader is in a real bad situation | maybe don’t read if you’re sensitive

WORD COUNT: 10.5k

RATING: explicit

A/N: again, I am a liar because this story is still not complete. nevertheless, i hope you guys enjoy this! 

I don’t do tag lists, so please don’t ask.

Also, shoutout to my wonderful betas @knjkitten and @seoul9711 for going over this for me! yall are the greatest 💕

series index

Spring means spring showers. Usually that’s something Taehyung kind of enjoys, because it means the weather is getting warmer, and who doesn’t love curling up in bed on rainy mornings (or afternoons, or evenings)?

This spring, though, is different. The boys, after hearing Taehyung shamefully confess that he’d kicked you out, assuming that you’d head right over to one of them, had immediately torn into him for being an irresponsible owner. They were especially upset because he hadn’t told them the entire story, ashamed to let them know that he’d started a sexual relationship with his pet human and not ready to talk about the whole imprinting debacle. To them, he’d simply lost his cool over something petty and done something stupid.

Then they’d organized and strategized, planning to comb through Seoul to try and find you. It was a good thing that all of them were predator hybrids, with enhanced abilities to sniff you out. This rain, though… it was making things difficult, washing away your residual scent. It was bad enough that they were trying to track you two weeks after you’d gone missing, but it had been consistently raining this whole time, and that meant it would be next to impossible to track you down using your scent.

Spring showers meant another problem: no one was picnicking if it was raining. Well, it wasn’t like there were many anyway since it was still cold out – the boys assured you that during summer, they came in hordes – but between the tents and rented heaters, there were still people who came out sometimes, just to spend a little time outdoors once in a while. Hybrids were made sturdy, after all, and weren’t as susceptible to the cold as humans.

It was another week before Taehyung got to Hangang Park. A week of combing through every street, back alley and underground pass in the part of Seoul that he’d been assigned. At the very edge of Seoul, Hangang Park was one of the last places that they hadn’t looked and hope that they would find you was running low. You could be anywhere by now, perhaps having begged a ride or train ticket to another city even.

In the week that they’d been out looking for you, you’d been spending a lot of time inside with the boys. Since it was cold, all of you tended to huddle together in a puppy pile that was uncomfortably reminiscent of the big snuggle fests you’d enjoyed in the past with Taehyung and his bandmates. All the free time that all of you had meant that you spent a lot of time engaging in the only fun thing homeless poor people could afford, and you’d more than once thought sardonically that since you weren’t getting much food, it was a good thing you were getting so much protein.

After all that time spent apart, your reunion with Taehyung was almost anticlimactic. You’d squirmed free of Youngbae and Jiyong, who were currently napping, to go use the public restroom. When you were done, you were drying your hands on your shirt while walking out of the little hut that housed the toilets when you saw him. Or at least, someone who looked suspiciously like him from the back. He was wearing one of Taehyung’s favourite shirts, too, a long-sleeved silk button-down that you’d taken to and from the dry cleaners many times before.

For a second, it felt like time had stopped as you stared at the wide expanse of the man’s back. It took you back to a time that really wasn’t that long ago, but seemed like a different lifetime. So much had changed about you, and your life, and the way you lived.

Then the man started turning around and you realized that it was, indeed, Taehyung. Needless to say, you couldn’t leave quickly enough. You didn’t know why he was here, but you definitely didn’t want him seeing how low you’d sunk now. Swearing inwardly, you darted off, back to the tent behind a convenience store that was now your home.

When Taehyung first scented you, he almost thought he was hallucinating. It was just so unlikely to him that you would be here, of all places, when he’d all but lost hope of finding you ever again. It wasn’t until he turned around that he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a figure running away, and realized that it was, indeed, you. Immediately, he gave chase, yelling your name so you’d turn around.

Instead, you just ran faster, practically diving back into the tent where the other boys were and zipping it up tight. Daesung stirred, holding a hand out to you. “What’s up?” he slurred. You took his hand and cuddled close to his side, not sure how to explain things and just hoping that Taehyung would leave. Why was he here, anyway? He should be busy right now with promoting their comeback album; it wasn’t a good time for the band to be picnicking.

“Y/n!” Taehyung was standing right outside the tent now, and you closed your eyes stubbornly, tucking your face into Daesung’s chest. He’d been absently stroking your hair, but when he heard Taehyung, he propped himself up on his elbow.

“It sounds like someone’s looking for you,” he pointed out rather unnecessarily, raising a brow at you. You rolled your eyes at him in response.

“Y/n, please, let’s go home!” Taehyung continued, and you groaned, turning onto your belly and burying your face in your hands.

Jiyong, who was famously grouchy when he woke up, snarled as he unzipped the tent. “Who are you, and what the fuck do you want?!” he growled.

Taehyung blinked, slightly surprised at the hostility. “Uh, is Y/n-ssi here?” In the unexpected situation, his speech became polite.

Seunghyun came up behind Jiyong, frowning. He’d developed something of a soft spot for you – well, as much as was possible, anyway, when all of you were scrounging for survival. “What’s it to you?” he asked rudely.

“Uh, I’d like to speak to her, if possible?”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you objected. You had no interest in anything he could say to you at this point. Was he here to scream at you again? That seemed like overkill, all things considered, but since there was nothing else you could imagine, it remained the most likely scenario in your mind. You didn’t want him seeing you like this, either. If he was going to hate you, you’d rather he at least remember you the way you’d been as a pet, not as a homeless stray.

“Y/n, please.” The tone of his voice gave you pause – it was weary and sad, and despite your best efforts, you couldn't stop yourself from wanting to comfort him. You'd spent half your life attuned to his every need and it was difficult to turn that off suddenly.

With a reluctant sigh, you pushed past Jiyong and Seunghyun, who were blocking the entrance. "What is it?" you asked. You tried not to make eye contact with Taehyung - he'd always been perceptive, and you didn't want him staring into your soul again, afraid of what he might find there.

“Y/n… please come home,” Taehyung pleaded. With you standing in front of him, he could see properly the toll that the past three weeks had on you. You’d lost a lot of weight and your jawline was sharper than it had ever been, you looked tired and messy, your skin was starting to break out due to lack of proper nutrition and access to skincare products, and you smelled… not that great, which wasn’t a surprise since you’d had about two showers in the last three weeks.

Still, you crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly and looked away. “I don’t want to,” you objected. You could still hear his harsh words ringing in your ears, but more than that, the shame you felt at encouraging your unusual relationship when you should have stopped it was weighing heavily on you, and you didn’t want to go back and face that.

“Y/n-ie, please? I know I was mean and awful, and I’m sorry about that. Please come home,” he tried again, but you refused to even look at him.

“Stop it, leave me alone,” you whispered, hugging yourself protectively.

Finally, his shoulders slumped. He couldn’t handle being the cause of your distress anymore, even if he did think that you would be better off back at home with him. “Okay,” he accepted, his voice quiet and dejected. “I’ll go if that’s what you really want, but you’re welcome to come home any time, okay?”

You nodded stiffly, waiting for him to leave.

When he turned away disappointedly and walked off, you turned back to the boys to find all four of them staring at you. “What?” you asked slightly defensively.

“Who was that, baby?” Youngbae asked.

“Uh, it was my previous owner.”

“And he wanted to take you home?”

“Uh, yeah?” More uncertainly this time, not sure where they were going with this.

“And you said no?” Jiyong butted in incredulously.

You shrank in on yourself at the volume and tone of his voice. “I don’t want to go back with him,” you almost whimpered, your hands bunching up the fabric of your shirt anxiously.

“Baby… why not?” Seunghyun asked.

Your mind stalled. You didn’t want to tell them the real reason, afraid that they would look at you differently or even kick you out of their group. “We… had a fight,” you said rather vaguely instead.

“And you’re still mad at him? Did he do something wrong?”

“Yes, he kicked me out,” you said pointedly. Wasn’t that enough?

“Baby… he clearly feels bad about that if he came to ask you to go home,” Daesung pointed out reasonably.

“That doesn’t change the fact that he kicked me out,” you grumbled petulantly. “What if he does it again? Then I’ll end up right back here.”

“And what if you do?” Seunghyun asked. “Even if he kicks you out again in a week, that’s a week that you get to spend with a roof over your head, and access to food and water.”

You blinked at Seunghyun. Out of all the things he could have said, that wasn’t really what you’d thought he would say, but it made sense somehow. Living on the streets was difficult. You hadn’t had a hot meal in three weeks, and even though the hunger pangs kept the nausea at bay, picking at hybrids’ half-eaten food wasn’t anyone’s idea of a good time.

It must seem so shallow and ridiculous to these boys, who’d been living on the streets all their lives, that there was someone offering you a perfectly good home and you didn’t want it. Why? Because of your feelings? Ultimately, did that matter? You began to doubt yourself and your reasoning, wondering if you were being silly.

Still, your mind wouldn’t stop replaying the memories of Taehyung forcibly kicking you out of his house, and you gnawed on your lip uncertainly. Would it really be okay?

“Sweetie, it seems like there’s something more keeping you from wanting to go back.” Youngbae, ever the astute one, guessed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head slowly. It might seem tempting, but you didn’t know how they would react to hearing about your sexual relationship with your hybrid owner. You’d lost enough; you didn’t want to lose your new family too, especially when their protection was all that was keeping you from being out on the streets alone. The memory of the two nights you’d spent wandering around the streets of Seoul, lost and alone, were enough to keep your mouth shut out of caution and fear.

“That’s fair, but is it worth living like this?” he asked, gesturing towards the tent where the five of them had been living practically on top of each other.

“You live like this,” you objected. “We’ve been fine, haven’t we?” you continued, a little more uncertainly now. Were they just too polite to tell you that they were tired of you and wanted you to leave?

All of them exchanged glances, before turning back towards you, serious expressions on their faces. “Y/n… any blind fool can tell that you’re not made for this life,” Seunghyun began. “The rest of us were born on the streets and we know how to handle ourselves.”

“I know how to handle myself,” you protested, your hackles rising. Hadn’t you been doing your part to contribute to the group? Thinking about it too hard made you feel a little unsettled, like you were about to be booted out of another family, so you tilted your chin upwards in defiance.

Daesung stepped in, ever the peacemaker. “You’ve been doing really well, sweetie, but all of us can see how difficult this is for you,” he pointed out.

“What- what do you mean?”

“Well… your soft hands that have clearly never done heavy lifting, your fussiness about food, your general demeanor…” Jiyong started listing things that all of them had noticed over the past couple of weeks, only stopping when Seunghyun nudged him to be quiet.

“The point is… this life is clearly not suitable for you,” Seunghyun explained. “And even if things are bad between you and your owner right now, he’s willing to make an effort, and it seems like going back with him is the best thing for you.”

You bit your lip. “You really think so?”

“I think if you have to eat any more cold ramen noodles you’ll kill yourself,” Jiyong said dryly, and your cheeks heated, remembering the day that all you had to eat was cold, congealed half-eaten instant noodles. You thought you’d covered up your distaste, but apparently not. In your defense, it had been a soup ramen and the noodles had absorbed all the soup and gotten bloated and soggy.

“Okay,” you finally accepted. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Unexpectedly, it was Jiyong that came to hug you goodbye. “If anything goes wrong, you’ll always be welcome here,” he whispered, and you nodded, hugging him back. Even though you were pretty sure it was just because they enjoyed the convenience of having pussy on tap, you were still touched, your eyes starting to sting with tears that you refused to shed. As accepting as they’d been of you, you’d tried your best to avoid appearing weak and needy, and that wasn’t about to change.

It didn’t take long for you to find Taehyung – he was standing right near the entrance of the convenience store, smoking a shame cigarette. It was a habit he’d picked up in the military and quit when he left, but when he was stressed or upset, he still craved it. Right now, he was all of that and more.

You watched from around the side of the small building as he blew smoke out and flicked the end of the cigarette with his thumb, causing the ash to fall into the ashtray on top of the bin. The cigarette smoke was all he could smell, so he didn’t know you were there.

“Taehyung-oppa?” you called hesitantly, taking a few steps forward.

The way he whipped around to look at you was almost comical. “Y/n…?” he breathed, like he could hardly believe it. Hastily, his free hand came up to wipe his cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

You came a little closer, still a little skittish. “You shouldn’t be smoking,” you said instead of answering.

He smiled a little sadly, looking down at the cigarette in his hand. “Well… probably not,” he agreed.

“It’s bad for your health,” you continued walking towards him as you chided him gently.

“It is,” he said, although his voice cracked on the second word. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together, trying to stifle the sobs. If this was the last time he ever saw you, he didn’t want you to remember him as a sobbing mess. Dragging a deep, painful breath in through his lungs, he swallowed hard to compose himself.

“Taehyung-oppa…” When he next opened his eyes, you were standing right in front of him, in all your ethereal glory. Right now, it didn’t matter that you looked (and smelled) like you’d seen better days. He forced himself to drink in every feature, every bit of your essence and scent. If this was all he had for the rest of his life, it would be enough. When he’d adopted you, he made a promise that he would always take care of you. He’d failed once already, but if all he could do for you for the rest of his life was look out for you from afar, that would be enough.

The powers that be must be smiling down on him, though, because instead of disappearing, you plucked the cigarette from his hand and ground it out against the bin. “Let’s go home,” you said simply.

He didn’t know why or how you’d changed your mind, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Nodding mutely, he held out his hand, and miraculously, you placed yours in it, letting him lead you back to his car.

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In the enclosed space of the car, Taehyung could pick apart all the unfamiliar notes of your scent, and it was driving him insane. The sour note of hunger and misery made the wolf in him want to whine and nose at your throat, bathe you and feed you and cuddle you until it all went away. The scent of unfamiliar men blanketing you inspired a very different reaction, though. It made him want to snarl, to tear the men who’d dared touch his mate apart, and make sure their scent was covered by his. He didn’t even want to think about how deep the scent of other men had sunk into you after three weeks. It had been his fault, anyway.

The part of him that was human tamped down ruthlessly on his baser, animalistic instincts, knowing that he couldn’t give in to them when they’d been engineered to manipulate him. Now, these instincts that had been bred into him were preventing him from being a good, responsible owner and that was unacceptable. Being here with you was throwing the conflict between his wolf and human sides into sharp relief, and he was silent as he mulled over it.

You didn’t have anything to say to him either, and your car ride home was quiet. You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the side of the car, and whenever there was a red light, Taehyung would gaze upon your face silently until he had to drive again.

When you finally got home, you followed Taehyung silently up to the apartment, your head bowed. His heart clenched at how broken and sad you looked, and the thought that he was the cause of it made him want to clutch you to his chest and cry. He did none of that, however, merely opening the door and letting you step into the house before him. You hovered uncertainly in the entryway, not even toeing off your shoes, your hands clutching the hem of your shirt in a way he recognized as an anxious habit of yours.

He stepped into the apartment and held his hand out to you. “Come on,” he coaxed, much like the first time he’d brought you home. The parallel didn’t seem like it was lost on you, because the ghost of a smile played across your lips, but this time when you put your hand in his, it was stiff and tense. He didn’t say anything, though, closing his larger hand around yours and drawing you into the apartment. You were still hesitant, though, looking around nervously, and in that moment, if he could have given up his heart to make you feel better, he would have done it without any thought.

“Do you want to go take a shower while I get dinner ready?” he asked quietly, and you nodded after a second, slipping off into your room to grab your clothes, then into the shower. When he heard the shower come on, he texted the boys to let them know he’d found you and they could call off the search. He didn’t add other details, not ready to share or even knowing what he should say to them, really.

With that done, he put his phone down on the counter, ignoring the way it vibrated over and over again, the boys undoubtedly bombarding him with questions. He figured you’d probably want a hot meal, and opened the fridge to see if he could cook anything. Seokjin would definitely be cooking up a storm for you and would load his car up with containers full of food tomorrow, but for tonight, he had to make do. There were a few threadbare ingredients that were left over from the last time you’d gone grocery shopping and he pulled them out hesitantly. It had honestly been too long since he’d cooked – when you were around, you usually took care of it and he’d been living off delivery food while you were gone.

Out of practice, he nevertheless gave it the good old college try, chopping up the onion and meat and attempting to make doenjang jjigae. He knew it was comforting for you, and it was for him too, especially after you’d made it for him during his heat. Unfortunately, when he tried to cook the stew, it turned into a mess somehow, with the onions burning and sticking to the pot, the doenjang starting to smoke, and the meat turning an unappetizing colour. Panicked, he started cursing while trying to scrape the food off the bottom of the pot.

The bathroom door swung open when you heard him, and you came out silently, nudging him aside to see what was happening. Without a word, you turned the stove off and started scraping burnt bits of food off the pan and into the bin. “Sorry,” Taehyung said, hovering awkwardly behind you. He’d never felt lower in his life. Could he do nothing right?

“It’s all right,” you murmured. “I’m not that hungry anyway. I might just turn in.”

His wolf whined in misery at the thought of you actually going to bed hungry, and he might have let a little noise slip, because your gaze snapped up towards him, before looking away. Your shirt was fisted in your hands again, and he forced himself to calm down. The fact that you were now afraid of him filled him with so much despair and hurt. He would genuinely throw himself off a bridge if it would make you smile again, just for a second.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll call delivery,” he said. He reached out to grab your hand, but thought better of it and snatched it back before making contact.

“Okay,” you agreed, your head still down. “Thank you, Taehyung-oppa.”

“Do you want to go sit down while I call them?” he asked, nodding towards the living room. You nodded and made your way to the couch where you perched on the very edge of the cushion, holding yourself stiffly with your hands in your lap.

Looking over sadly at you, he grabbed his phone and dialed the number for the restaurant that he knew was your favourite, ordering your food and his. He made sure to get additional side dishes, his wolf wanting nothing more than to provide for his mate.

When the food arrived, he busied himself taking it all out of the big basket and setting up the table as you drifted closer hesitantly. Even though he wasn’t looking directly at you, he watched carefully out of the corner of his eye as your lips turned up in a slight smile seeing your favourite black bean noodles, with sweet and sour pork on the side. It wasn’t much – before, you would have clapped your hands with glee and sit down eagerly – but to him, it felt like a victory anyway. Like maybe he could do this, take care of you and win back your affection.

You picked up your chopsticks and dug in, eating with a haste that he’d never seen before. You’d always been a bit of a slow eater, claiming you wanted to savour the food, but now you were wolfing it down like you didn’t know when you’d get to eat again, and it broke his heart all over again that you’d experienced hunger. You were his – his responsibility, his mate – and he’d failed you so miserably. The thought made his stomach flip unpleasantly and he found himself slowing down, losing his appetite at the thought of how much you’d undoubtedly suffered.

When you were done with your noodles – and most of the pork and side dishes – you started casting furtive glances over at his bowl of stew, and he pushed his bowl towards you without you having to ask. It was a striking reversal of the way you’d taken care of him during his pre-heat, and he was just now realizing how much responsibility you’d taken around the house since you came to live with him after his military service ended.

You hadn’t felt so full in weeks, and you sat back with a satisfied sigh when you’d drained Taehyung’s bowl as well. Your stomach hurt from how much you’d eaten, but it was a nice feeling, after the near-constant hunger pangs for the past three weeks. Moving sluggishly, you went to pack the empty bowls back into the bucket, but Taehyung stopped you. “I’ll do it,” he said. “Go get some rest, you look beat.”

Since you were exhausted, you didn’t argue with him, just getting up and heading to your bedroom. Taehyung watched, slightly wounded that you didn’t want to spend the night with him like you used to, but also not wanting to say or do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. “Good night,” he called, regretting it instantly when you leapt into the air at the sound of his voice.

“Good night,” you responded softly, and it was only his enhanced wolf hearing that allowed him to pick it up. Sighing, he finished cleaning up and put the basket back outside the door.

Being back in your bedroom felt almost surreal, after living on that streets and then in that tent. Everything was the same as it was before, when you were so different, it was like you didn’t fit in there anymore. The cute room with the cozy patterned bedspread, the overstuffed, oversized chair and reading nook… it was for another person, someone who didn’t exist anymore.

Still, you tried your best to block the thoughts out of your head as you pulled back the duvet to slide under it, fidgeting to try and get comfortable. Closing your eyes tight, you snuggled into the pillows, falling into the fitful, restless sleep that you’d gotten used to.

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Taehyung lay in the dark in his room, his eyes wide open. Having you in the next room over instead of in his bed next to him felt wrong, somehow, but even though he wanted nothing more than to slide into bed with you, or better yet, bring you to his room, his uncertainty and guilt kept him where he was.

He must have spent hours just lying there, listening to you toss and turn and whimper in your sleep, each sound twisting the knife. You’d always been such a deep, easy sleeper, knocking right out every night and sleeping peacefully till morning. It was his fault you’d changed, and he tortured himself all night imagining all the horrors you’d been through during the past few weeks.

When sunlight started shining through his curtains, he decided he’d had enough of lying there, and got out of bed. Still in his pajamas, he left his room and walked the small distance to yours to wake you up. Standing over your bed, he watched for a moment as you continued fussing in your sleep, a small frown etched into your features.

It had been a while since he’d done this, but years of waking you up meant that the muscle memory came back to him easy as he leaned over you and patted your side. “Hey… wake up,” he called softly.

You stirred and, clearly only half-awake, slurred, “Okay… you want a handjob?”

“I- what? Y/n…”

Your hand fought its way out of the covers and you held it out, palm up. “Come on…” you yawned.

“Y/n-ie… stop it.” Taehyung’s voice trembled as he saw the way you were holding your hand out, your fingers loosely curled. He put his hand in yours and placed it back onto the bed.

A little more awake now, you blinked the sleep from your eyes and squinted up at him. “Taehyung-oppa? Good morning,” you murmured in your soft, slightly scratchy morning voice. “Do you need breakfast?”

He hesitated. You looked so small and innocent in your bed now that he almost wondered if he’d hallucinated your earlier interaction. You continued looking at him, looking more alert, and he knew you were waiting for an answer.

“No,” he finally said. “Do you want to come to the studio with me today? We can grab some food on the way, and I’m sure the others are excited to see you too.”

You blinked and yawned again, before pushing yourself into a sitting position. “Okay,” you agreed. “Let me just get ready.” Sluggishly, you got out of bed, twisting your back to stretch while Taehyung made himself scarce, going to get dressed. When he was done, you ducked into the bathroom to do your thing, carrying your clothes in with you.

When you emerged, you looked fresh and adorable, in a simple white blouse and blue jeans, and anyone who wasn’t looking too closely or didn’t know you would have thought you were merely another pampered pet human. Taehyung, though, could see the way the clothes hung off you a little too loosely, the sharper edge of your jawline and cheekbones from weight loss, and most of all, could smell the scent of other men on you that even your shower last night hadn’t been able to get off.

“Is there anything you want for breakfast today?” he asked as you put your shoes on. He opened the front door and extended his other arm towards you, intending at first to usher you out with his hand on your lower back like he usually did, but he saw the way you stood a little more stiffly at the anticipation of his hands on you and dropped it awkwardly. He supposed he shouldn’t have been quite so surprised and hurt at your hesitance. If you wanted nothing more to do with him, it was still more than he deserved.

He took you to a little restaurant for porridge that was near the BigHit building, watching carefully as you downed the entire bowl in record-breaking time. Usually you were too busy chatting with him and telling him about your day, or random things you’d seen, or something you’d read in a book, but now you were silent, your head down as you shoveled food into your mouth. In an attempt to break the silence, Taehyung asked, “Did you sleep well?” even though he knew the answer to the question.

It didn’t work, anyway. You just looked up at him, wide-eyed, for a second, before nodding and returning to your food. Sighing in defeat, he lapsed into silence too. If this was the new normal, he couldn’t say he didn’t deserve it. At least you were eating well – it soothed his wolf slightly, to know that his mate was eating well.

When you were finished with your meal – even licking the spoon clean dramatically – he took you to the studio, where the boys, as anticipated, glomped you the moment you set foot in the door. Jimin was basically in tears as he hugged you and wouldn’t let go, even when the others came forth for their turn. Namjoon, however, hovered back, hesitant to greet you. In the heat of the moment, with Taehyung’s turmoil and misery in his face, it had been easy to justify his own role in the entire debacle, but now that he was looking straight at you, and seeing the toll that the past few weeks had taken on your body, the guilt sat uncomfortably in his chest.

Soon enough, you were back in your usual spot – on the couch, squished between Yoongi on one side and Jimin on the other, listening absently as they discussed their album and comeback with the managers and executives. Feeling warm and full from the porridge, your eyelids started to droop, and Yoongi, always alert and aware, gently took the book from your loose grasp and closed it, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

Taehyung, watching from the adjacent couch, frowned, barely paying attention to what Bang PD was saying. He knew you hadn’t slept well last night, and the more rational side of him was relieved that you were at least getting some rest, even if you didn’t seem that comfortable. If he had his way, you would be lying down on a couch somewhere in a dark room where you could get some proper sleep. His wolf wanted to tear Yoongi to shreds, snarling in jealousy at the older man. It should be his shoulder you were currently drooling all over, your face adorably smushed into the fabric of his shirt.

Reminding himself harshly that you weren’t comfortable around him anymore, and really, whose fault was that, he forced himself to look away, although his jaw remained clenched, an outward sign of his irritation. He’d never been good at keeping his emotions to himself, but he figured he’d better damn well get good at it now, if he was going to keep all his problematic emotions to himself and avoid making you feel even more unsafe around him.

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For almost a month, you and Taehyung danced around each other, trying to stay out of each other’s way. You didn’t want to do anything that might set him off again or remind him of why he’d kicked you out in the first place, and Taehyung was practically bending over backwards to give you the space he thought you needed to heal. As a result, the apartment was very quiet for most of the day, an oppressive silence that hung like a shroud over you.

Since you weren’t talking much to Taehyung, you were always happy to go with him to the studio, where the other boys were more than willing to entertain you. They’d realized quickly that you were a lot jumpier than before, which was understandable, so they tried not to do anything that would give you a fright. For the most part, you were all right with physical contact (other than with Taehyung, which upset him tremendously) but once in a while an innocent brush against you could remind you of the way Big Bang would touch you, and you’d leap into the air to get away from it.

It was Yoongi, who let you sit on the couch in his studio most days, who finally broached the topic after he tried to usher you into the studio with his hand on your back and you almost burst into tears. He sat you down on the couch and squatted in front of you, holding your hands and pleading for you to please tell him what was wrong for about half an hour before you caved and admitted that you might have some trauma from living on the streets. It was another twenty minutes of cajoling before you told him, in the smallest voice possible, that you’d had to use your body to survive.

“You… what?” Yoongi was so shocked by your confession that he lost his balance and fell, sitting ungracefully at your feet. Thinking he was reacting this way out of disgust, you covered your face with your hands and drew your shoulders in.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears stinging at your eyes. This was exactly what you hadn’t wanted; you’d thought you’d been doing well with hiding everything and dealing with it alone. Now that Yoongi knew, the rest of the boys would know that you were filthy, disgusting… you couldn’t stop the sob from tearing out of your chest.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he soothed, putting his shock and anger aside in the face of your clear distress. He wanted to flip a table, maybe set fire to something, but you were more important right now. His hands fluttered helplessly by your knees, wanting to comfort you but not sure how to. Your adverse reaction to the boys’ touch made so much sense now, and he didn’t want to accidentally trigger you again and upset you further.

In the end, he took your hand and placed it on top of his head, letting you stroke his soft, fluffy leopard ears. The rhythmic motion seemed to soothe you, and you smiled a little past the tears as you scratched the base of them, just like he let you do when you were a child. He didn’t want to force you to speak, but slowly coaxed everything out of you. Once you started talking about your experiences, it was like the words fell out of you, so relieved to finally be able to tell someone after keeping it to yourself for weeks as you tried to pretend like you were the same innocent human you’d been before being cast out.

Eventually, Yoongi managed to get you to fall asleep for a much-needed nap on his couch after you’d cried yourself out. His heart broke as he looked at you lying on the couch on your side, so small and delicate. You looked almost breakable, and the thought of you having to use that precious body to survive because of Taehyung made his fists clench by his side in rage. Turning down the lights so you would be able to rest properly, he left his studio, making sure to close the door quietly to avoid waking you up even though he wanted to slam it in his rage.

Taehyung was sitting in a meeting room with Jungkook and Jimin, and when Yoongi burst through the entrance, all of them looked up. “Suga-hyung, what’s up?” Jimin greeted.

Ignoring him, Yoongi stalked over to Taehyung, yanked him by the shirtfront out of his seat and decked him across the face. Shocked and unprepared for the hit, Taehyung sprawled on the floor, only to prop himself up by the elbow a second later, cradling his jaw with his hand and looking up at Yoongi with wide, hurt eyes.

“Suga-hyung, stop!” Jimin cried as Jungkook all but leapt across the table in the room to restrain the older man. The two bystanders exchanged panicked glances, not sure why Yoongi was suddenly attacking Taehyung. As irritable and snarky as the rapper was, it was almost impossible to get him truly angry, and he was clearly fuming right now.

Furious at the sudden attack, Taehyung surged up off the floor. “What the fuck was that for?!” he roared, pulling back to return Yoongi’s punch with one of his own. Jimin hurried over to pull Taehyung back before the situation descended into a brawl.

“You’re garbage,” Yoongi sneered. “Ask Y/n what it was for.” With that, he pulled himself out of Jungkook’s grasp, glared at Taehyung once more, and left the room, unable to stand being in the same room as him anymore.

“Shit, you’re bleeding,” Jimin fretted over his best friend, taking his chin in his hand and turning his face from one side to the other to see what the damage was. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he instructed, tugging on Taehyung’s hand so the wolf hybrid had no choice but to trail after Jimin, his ears drooping.

“What do you think that was about?” Jimin asked in the bathroom as he wetted a wad of paper towels in the sink.

Taehyung, leaning against the wall beside the sinks, shrugged, meeting Jimin’s eyes in the mirror. “Hell if I know,” he grumbled, still bitter. “I can’t believe hyung would do something like that,” he sulked.

Starting to dab at the busted lip to clean it up, Jimin ignored Taehyung’s hiss of pain and subsequent whines. “You know hyung isn’t the type to do something like that out of the blue… we can go talk to him later, okay? Find out what’s wrong.”

Taehyung started to protest, but Jimin’s glare and the way he pressed a little harder on the split lip he was tending to made him subside, pouting.

Since Taehyung could be a big baby and Jimin had an obsessive need to take care of everyone around him, it took a while before Taehyung was deemed patched up enough to go talk to Yoongi. As he made his way down the hallway to Yoongi’s studio, he fumed silently about his hyung’s weird behavior.

By the time he got to the door of Yoongi’s studio, he’d worked himself back up into a rage, and pounded on the door loudly to announce his presence. “Hyung, open up!” he yelled.

The racket he was making woke you up abruptly, and you jolted awake, gasping as you shot up into a sitting position. A quick glance over at Yoongi told you that he hadn’t heard Taehyung at all, since he was still working, with his giant expensive noise-cancelling headphones on. Since he was occupied, you went to open the door yourself to let Taehyung in.

Taehyung’s arm was still up, poised to knock, when you opened the door. He stared at you with wide eyes, not having expected you and feeling slightly abashed now that you’d seen his childish tantrum. “Ah, Y/n-ie… I didn’t know you were here,” he greeted, dropping his arm to his side.

You, on the other hand, had a far more dramatic reaction. Seeing his split lip, you gasped in horror, and in your panic, the artificial distance you’d been imposing for the past month slipped away. “Tae-oppa!” you cried, your hands flying to his face. “What happened to you?” With the pads of your fingers, you stroked gently over the reddened skin around the cut, wincing.

Grabbing his wrist, you pulled him over to the couch and sat him down, continuing to fret over him. Taehyung, for his part, sat quietly and let you do what you wanted, just happy to have you near him again. All his anger evaporated as he smiled at you like a fool, ignoring the way it made his lip sting.

Yoongi, who’d turned around in his chair and slipped his headphones down around his neck, frowned at the sight that greeted him. You were kneeling on the couch next to Taehyung, leaning over him while he held your wrist in his hand, stroking gently along the soft skin on your inner wrist.

At the sound of Yoongi clearing his throat, you jumped, tearing your wrist out of Taehyung’s grasp, to look over at the rapper. The interruption was enough to startle you out of your frantic concern for him, and you sat down on the couch, your hands in your lap as you tried to make yourself smaller. “S-sorry,” you said to Taehyung, though it was directed at your hands. What would he think of you now? Getting all up in his personal space, even after he’d made it so clear that he didn’t want to be involved with you like that. You really needed to get a grip if you were going to remain his pet, you thought. No way in hell were you going back to being homeless.

“It’s all right,” Taehyung murmured, responding to you habitually. Now that you weren’t in his personal space anymore, though, his anger started coming back, and he trained his gaze on Yoongi, his jaw flexing with his irritation. Yoongi met his gaze with equal measure, neither of them backing down.

You were so consumed by your own thoughts that you didn’t realise the tension between them, asking Taehyung obliviously, “So what happened to your face, anyway?”

There was a beat of silence, then Yoongi replied smoothly, “He must have walked into a door.” As he said it, he pinned Taehyung with a warning gaze, as if daring him to disagree with his lie.

An awkward moment later, Taehyung agreed. “Yes… I was distracted,” he offered as an excuse.

Watching the way Yoongi looked at you, with a small frown knitting his brow, Taehyung remembered what Yoongi had said earlier, about asking you what the punch was for. He broke eye contact with Yoongi to look over at you instead, although you still refused to look up at him, preferring to focus instead on your lap, where your hands were folded politely.

“Anyway, Y/n-ie… I’m not needed for the rest of the day. Do you want to go home early?” Taehyung figured that whatever it was he was supposed to ask you about, it was probably best to do it in private. He didn’t have his own studio, so his apartment was the best bet.

“Sure,” you agreed immediately. You’d been doing that a lot lately, just going with whatever he wanted or suggested, unless you were protesting that he was spending too much time, money or effort on you. It was so completely different from the carefree girl who loved to go crazy with his credit cards and soaked up his affection that he’d known, and he hated himself again for causing you to withdraw like that. It had taken him so long to earn your trust back when you’d been a child and he adopted you, and now all of that was gone down the drain.

He stood up and you followed, trailing after him out of Yoongi’s studio with a smile and a wave that upset him all over again. He hadn’t had that cute, carefree smile directed at him for so long now, and again, he fucking knew it was his own fault, but that didn’t make it any easier. For now, he had to be satisfied with seeing that smile only when it was directed at other people. At least, he thought bitterly, he’d succeeded in providing a good support network for you.

When you got home, after yet another awkward car ride filled with stilted small talk, Taehyung sat you down on the couch, wanting to talk to you but unsure of how to bring it up. You looked at him inquiringly as he stuttered through several aborted attempts to start the conversation, stopping each time with a frown and a hum.

Finally, he managed to ask, in a tone he hoped was neutral, “Did you and Suga-hyung talk about anything interesting today?”

You visibly stiffened, and he wondered if it was his words or his failure to feign nonchalance. “Why do you ask?” you responded cautiously, and he could see your walls going up.

“Just something Suga-hyung said,” Taehyung waved his hand in the air.

You cursed Yoongi inwardly for selling you out, and so quickly, at that. “Uh, we just talked about some stuff that happened last month,” you said vaguely. Neither of you were necessarily comfortable talking about the time you’d spent on the streets, and you tried to tiptoe around it out of consideration for Taehyung, but he understood what you were trying to say anyway.

“Uh-huh, like what?” he prompted, undeterred.

Your shoulders hunched defensively around your ears. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you muttered, and started to get up to beat a hasty retreat to your room.

Taehyung reached out in a panic and grabbed your hand. “No, please, tell me what you told him,” he pleaded, looking up at you with that sad expression that you’d never been able to resist.

You sighed. “Why do you even want to know?” you asked, slumping back onto the couch in resignation.

Taehyung frowned. “Of course I want to know,” he countered immediately. “Why don’t you want to tell me?” he asked in concern now.

You shrugged. “I don’t like talking about it, and it’ll just upset you,” you explained in a small voice.

“Y/n…” Taehyung’s voice was filled with sadness. “Please, tell me about it.” He scooted slightly closer to you and took your hands in his.

“Taehyung-oppa…”

“I understand if you’re not ready to tell me,” he admitted. It stung to acknowledge the possibility that you were more comfortable talking to Yoongi about this than to Taehyung, when he’d always been your caretaker, the one you’d gone to for everything. “But if you’re willing to tell me, I really do want to know, so we can figure out the best way to help you.”

You swallowed. “All right,” you agreed hesitantly, then lapsed into silence as you thought about how you should explain what had happened. You didn’t want Taehyung to judge you, but then again, Yoongi hadn’t either, so maybe your fears about that had been overblown.

After a little more hemming and hawing as you tried to muster up the courage to talk about it, you finally said, “Do you remember the guys that I was living with?”

Taehyung nodded, slightly confused, but didn’t say anything, simply waiting for you to continue speaking when you were ready.

“Well, uh… they agreed to take me in and all, but it wasn’t for free,” you said, trying to skirt around the topic, hoping he would get it without you having to spell it out in so many words.

Of course, Taehyung just gave you a blank stare, as if waiting for you to finish your thought. You sighed. “They proposed, like, a trade,” you continued, willing him with your mind to just understand what you were trying to say already, damn it.

When his expression didn’t change, you gave up on hoping he would understand your hints. “I only had myself and didn’t have much to offer, so they, uh… theymademeusemybody,” you rushed out the last part of your sentence so softly it was almost like a whisper, but with Taehyung’s sharper hearing, courtesy of his hybrid senses, he picked it up perfectly.

Only, with what he’d heard, he wished he hadn’t. He stared at you imploringly, his ears folded down against his head, his eyes starting to fill with tears. “Wh-what?” His voice wobbled, unable to believe what he’d heard. You avoided his gaze by turning your face away, not wanting to see the expression on his face. You didn’t need his pity.

“Y/n…” Taehyung tightened his grasp on your hands. “I’m so sorry.” The emotion behind the simple words caught you off guard, and you turned back to look at him. He was staring straight at you, his eyes huge and filled with distress (and tears). A sob that he couldn’t quite hold back tore out of his chest and you watched, with some disbelief, as he completely broke down in front of you.

“Taehyung-oppa…” you murmured, trying to extricate one hand from his grasp. Panicked, he held on even tighter, unwilling to let you go and afraid that you would leave if he did. He was so upset it physically hurt all over. As an owner, he was distraught that his thoughtless actions had caused you to suffer like that. His baser instincts, however, prodded him to hunt down the humans who’d forced you into such a position. How dare they make such profane, disgusting, exploitative demands of you, his imprint, his mate?

And yet, wasn’t it all his fault? He was the one who’d kicked you out, so you had no other choice but to accept it. Everything that had happened to you while you were living on the streets had happened because of him, because he was a thoughtless, stupid, irresponsible, owner. It would serve him right if you left, although he couldn’t bear for you to. Clearly, he’d shown that he was an unfit owner.

He was so lost in his self-hatred that he didn’t realize how hard he was squeezing your hands which were folded in his bigger ones until you made a quiet noise of discomfort, flexing your hands in his grasp. Horrified, he let go of them as if scalded, appalled that he was hurting you yet again.

Instead of immediately taking off, however, you reached up to cradle the side of his face, wiping his tears away with your thumb. As much as you’d resented him, you couldn’t see his sadness without wanting to comfort him. It was somewhat strange – you’d always seen him as the rock, the constant in your life. Always there for you, always in your corner. That was gone now. You knew firsthand how he could be, how much you suffered because of him. Yet there were still those memories that, try as you might, you couldn’t stop holding close to your heart. Of being tucked into bed by him, spoilt rotten and cuddled during what had to be the most pampered adolescence possible. Part of you was vindictively pleased that he was so upset, since it was what he deserved, but there was another part that didn’t like seeing him suffer.

When he felt your hand on his face, Taehyung felt like he couldn’t breathe for a moment. It would have made more sense to him if you’d slapped or punched him, but this tender touch, after all you’d been through because of him… he didn’t deserve you. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he kept repeating like a mantra, as if saying the words could dispel the heavy guilt he felt.

Because you weren’t a saint after all, you couldn’t resist twisting the knife. You knew you should appreciate how apologetic he was now that he knew what had happened, but there was also a spark of irritation within you. Why did he get to cry and make a fuss, when you couldn’t? You were comforting him when all the things he was upset about had happened to you, because of him.

“If you were sorry,” you said quietly, “you wouldn’t have kicked me out to begin with.” There was no malice in your tone, which was quiet and neutral, but it was abundant in your words. This was all his doing, and he shouldn’t get to wail dramatically about it like he was the victim.

Taehyung swallowed. “You’re right,” he acknowledged immediately. “This is all my fault, I’m sorry. Tell me what I can do to make it better for you,” he implored, his wide, tear-filled eyes looking at you earnestly.

“Tell me why you did it.” You never raised your voice, staying unmoved in the face of his clear anguish.

“Okay,” he agreed instantly, almost before the last word left your mouth. “Okay, I’ll tell you, just please… don’t leave.”

You folded your hands neatly in your lap and prepared to listen. To be honest, you’d thought you would be able to predict whatever he was going to say. He was furious about you coercing him into a sexual relationship when he wasn’t in his right frame of mind, he would confess, and after thinking about it, he’d gotten so angry that he acted impulsively. You could almost hear the words inside your head already – they were the same reasons you’d been repeating to yourself, over and over again.

“I was mad,” Taehyung admitted, the words leaving a bad taste in his mouth, “And I acted rashly.” He hadn’t wanted to tell you about the imprint, hoping that he could deal with it by himself so he wouldn’t give you yet another thing to worry and stress over, but you’d asked, and he couldn’t reject your request. Not when he knew how much you’d suffered because of him. You nodded, like you’d expected him to say that.

What he said next, however, took you completely by surprise.

“Namjoon-hyung told me…” he stopped to swallow and gather himself, then started again. “I know you think that during my last heat –” you both flushed, thinking about what had happened then – “that was new, but it wasn’t.”

Your gaze sharpened and focused on him, listening more carefully to what he had to say now. “I’d been struggling since my discharge from the military,” he continued. Damn, this was hard to say. “Namjoon-hyung helped me look into it, and he found…”

He paused to muster some courage, running his hand over the back of his neck awkwardly. “He found what?” you prompted, leaning forward curiously. You hadn’t voluntarily come this close to him for a month, he noted. His wolf preened.

“Uh, he found evidence of… hybrid technology that he believes is the cause. He called it,” he coughed to delay it a little longer, “an imprint. It’s a genetic quirk that was created in predator hybrids to ensure that they could bond with their human owners.”

You blinked. “I’m not your owner,” you said dumbly. It was so much to take in, that bit was the only thing your mind could focus on and grasp.

“I know,” he nodded, “but because we spent so much time together in our adolescence the bond had a chance to form, and after spending two years apart, it kicked in because you’d reached…” He grimaced, not really wanting to say it, and waved his hand at you vaguely instead.

You understood well enough what he was trying to say and blanched. “Gross…” you muttered under your breath, but Taehyung heard it and his shoulders slumped further. Of course you were horrified and disgusted at him – you should be. For the first time, he wondered if you would have been better off on the streets – at least then you wouldn’t have to deal with him and this genetic abnormality. He’d forced you into every difficult situation you’d faced since coming back to him after his military service, and it was only natural that you were appalled by his revelation.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. He was saying that a lot, but no matter how many times he uttered the words, they were never enough to convey the depth of his remorse and sorrow over what he’d done to you. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” his head fell into your lap as he cried.

You started stroking his head and ears, the habit you’d developed from years of being around him making you move your hand automatically to soothe him as you tried to sort out your thoughts. Hybrid technology… a genetic quirk… that meant humans had been responsible for what Taehyung was going through. You were more educated than most humans, which meant you understood very well the history between humans and hybrids. Humans had created hybrids and enslaved them, treating them as chattel – pets, workhorses, you name it.

And now, you were continuing to be the source of a hybrid’s pain and suffering. Had humans not done enough? Their destructive legacy continued to live on in the bodies of the hybrids they’d created, and while Taehyung had been struggling with it by himself, you’d been living in blissful ignorance, resenting him for what he’d done.

Taehyung cried until the tears wouldn’t come anymore, then he just lay with his head in your lap, the occasional hiccup making him jerk slightly. After a while, you turned your head to look out the window – the sun was setting, you noted.

“Taehyung-oppa…” you called softly, shaking his shoulder gently to wake him up. “You should get to bed.”

He stirred slightly, then tried to go back to sleep, but you pushed him back into a sitting position. “Come on, Tae-oppa,” you said, standing up and tugging on his hand. He followed you as you led him to his room, but wouldn’t let go of your hand once you’d gotten him settled in bed.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” he croaked.

You eyed him dubiously for a second, not sure if it was a good idea, especially in light of what you’d just learned. But with his sad expression, the dejected slump of his shoulders and the way his ears flopped over his head, you couldn’t say no to anything he asked. Especially not with the newfound guilt you were carrying around.

“Okay,” you acquiesced. “Just let me wash up and I’ll come back.”

When you tiptoed back into Taehyung’s room, scrubbed down and in your pajamas, you thought he was asleep from the way he was curled up under the sheets. You quietly pulled back the covers on your side of the bed and got in slowly, trying not to jostle him awake, but it didn’t seem to make a difference, since the moment you were settled into the mattress he squirmed closer to you, wrapping his arms and legs around you and pressing his face into your neck.

With a small sigh, you settled into his hold.

---------------------------------------------

“Y/n… I don’t understand.” Namjoon’s brow was furrowed as he looked up at you, standing in his studio.

“Namjoon-oppa… I know you know about the imprint, and you told Taehyung-oppa about it,” you told him.

“Right… but I don’t know why you’re asking me this.”

“It’s not complicated – I just want to know if there’s a way to break the imprint.”

Namjoon hesitated. It was something he’d been looking into nonstop as well, hoping to find something that would set both you and Taehyung free. It didn’t seem to be possible, though – the genetic bond was not designed to be broken, especially since hybrids had been considered so disposable. If anything went wrong, euthanasia of hybrids had been just as commonly accepted as euthanasia of regular pets.

“There isn’t,” he admitted. “The only cases where a hybrid was able to move on from the imprint…” he gulped, not sure whether he should tell you.

“What is it?” you asked impatiently. “Namjoon-oppa, please. I’m trying to help Taehyung-oppa, just like you are,” you pleaded. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Stop asking!” Backed into a corner now, he snarled at you, his ears pressed back against his head. “There’s nothing you can do, okay? Just drop it.”

“Namjoon-oppa, please. I don’t know why you’re trying to hide it. I’ll do anything it takes to help Taehyung-oppa break his imprint.”

That got his attention. “Anything?” This was crazy… it was way too much to ask of you.

“Anything,” you confirmed resolutely. He could see your determination in the set of your jaw and the way your gaze met his unwaveringly.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Ah, this is crazy…” he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

“The only recorded cases where a hybrid was able to move on from an imprint… is when the object of the imprint passed away.”

#btswritingcafe #kwritersworldnet #btswritersnet #magicshopnet #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #bangtanhq #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #hybrid taehyung #bts hybrid #bts hybrid au #bts future au #bts scenarios #bts fic #dont ask dont tell

[threeletterslife]

Propinquity (Law of Seesaw)

→ [6/7] of the Glossary Series

→ summary: You first meet him on a seesaw. What a surprise, your relationship with him is exactly like that of a seesaw too—there are ceaseless ups and downs. So much so that you wonder when it’ll end. 

→ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader | PG-13

→ genre: 50% fluff, 33% angst, 17% crack | e2l!au

→ warnings: profanity, mean insults

→ wordcount: 9.2k

♫: Seesaw by BTS

You can't remember the last time you've gone a week without fighting.

There is always a new problem that arises. A new argument that is sparked from the depths of trivial problems. Then Yoongi stops talking to you for a day (or days if the fight is serious) and sleeps downstairs on the couch until he wants to crawl back to you and apologize. Other times, you're the one who has to drag yourself to your boyfriend's study with a plate of his favorite fruit and an apology in your head.

But it seems like the fighting never ends.

Now the bed feels cold. It is empty. Just like you.

You know that Yoongi's downstairs, either working with his new client (through the dead of the night) or already sleeping on the small couch. Though you're supposed to be mad at him, you worry. The couch isn't good for his already deteriorating posture. But you can't nag at him now. It'll result in more arguments.

When was the last time you and Yoongi didn't fight, though?

The correct answer is never.

From day one, you and Yoongi were destined enemies.

"Hi." You're a proud little child, standing up straight with your hands on your hips. A bit chubby and round in the middle but you flaunt the extra weight. "My mommy says I need to make friends before kindergarten starts."

"My mommy says not to talk to strangers." The young boy peeks at you through his shaggy black hair. He rocks the paint-nicked seesaw by himself, kicking his feet off the ground only to come back down with a light oof.

"I'm not a stranger," you scoff, crossing your hands over your chest. "Let me play on the seesaw!"

Yoongi doesn't even have time to answer because you're crawling up on the opposite side already. "H-Hey!" he yells but he's too late. The moment you innocently perch upon the seesaw, you’re slammed to the ground and Yoongi's lifted up high in the air.

Ah, the weight difference.

"GET ME OFF!" Yoongi screams. "GET ME OFF!!"

Your eyes turn wide. You hadn't meant to scare the boy. You thought everyone wanted to fly up in the air, and you were just granting the little boy's wish. In your head, you didn't even think of the possibility that Yoongi is afraid of heights. (Which was stupid of him to even try playing on the seesaw in the first place.)

"GET OFF!" Yoongi yells viciously at you. His face has turned a bright shade of pink and purple.

You think he looks like he's about to suffocate.

"I'M SORRY!" you shriek as you dive off the seesaw.

Yoongi lets out a high-pitched, ear-piercing scream as he subsequently flings off the seesaw. He lands on his butt several centimeters away from the rusty playground equipment and bursts out crying.

You gasp. Oh no. This was bad. Very, very bad. So you do the first thing that comes to your head: run away.

The boy's cries become louder and louder as you sprint in the opposite direction, but you grit your teeth and dash on. Eventually, your guilt for throwing off a boy from the playground seesaw dissipates when your mother buys you ice cream for lunch. Food is always the solution.

You have no idea that day you accidentally made a little boy cry was the day you met your future boyfriend. You just thought you met a crybaby coward.

And he thought he met the devil. If the devil was a chubby little girl with chipmunk cheeks and rolls on her arms.

You two had no idea you would meet again.

So far, the first day of kindergarten isn't going so great. All the other girls brought their barbies to class. You brought your stuffed animal snake—Mr. Slithers.

And now the other girls don't really like you. Because "snakes are icky!" Their words, not yours.

If they only knew this week was a rainforest theme in your head. Every day of the week, you would prepare to bring a new stuffed animal that lived in the rainforest. Today would be the green snake, then tomorrow, the tree frog and so on. But no one applauds your genius planning skills.

So you mope around for half of the day. The girls are playing princesses with their stupid barbies and they won't let you join because a snake cannot wear a ball gown.

You end up poking at the seesaw in the kindergarten playground. It's boring when there's no one else to sit on the other side. Mr. Slithers isn't heavy enough to seesaw with you either. You want your mommy.

"You!" a high-pitched voice shrieks.

Jumping, you whip your head around to see the little boy. No. The same little boy who you accidentally flung backward on the seesaw.

"Are you gonna throw me off the seesaw again?" he yells. For such a skinny little boy he has quite a loud voice.

"I didn't mean it!" you yell back.

"You need to apologize to me!"

"No!"

You run away again.

And just like a real big stupidhead, Yoongi tattletales on you to the kindergarten teacher, Mr. Kim. In your defense, you didn't even do anything to Yoongi at kindergarten, so Mr. Kim can't make you apologize to stupid Min Yoongi.

Mr. Kim agrees with your defense. But he doesn't approve of you using the word, stupid, so you have to apologize to Yoongi anyways. While you're positively livid, Yoongi is triumphant.

That is only the start of the rivalry.

In first grade, Yoongi calls you fat.

You aren't normally one to waste your time tattling to the adults, but Yoongi did it to you in kindergarten so it only feels right to get revenge. But apparently calling someone fat is much worse than calling someone stupid. Yoongi has to apologize to you and he has to sit in the time out corner. He also gets a call home so his parents are notified of his bad behavior.

In second grade, you start losing weight. Not because Yoongi called you fat. But because you figured you should start exercising to be as healthy as your gym rat parents. When you tell the second-grade class you want to become a football star and you've planned out your whole athletic pathway, Yoongi is the first one to rudely laugh at you. So you make sure to boo his presentation when he brags about writing a whole book by himself (it's called Dot Goes to School—pretty mediocre stuff). Both of you have your recess privileges taken away.

Staying in for recess with someone you absolutely despise is not worth the satisfaction you got from teasing them. So you and Yoongi become more discreet in your never-ending ways to spite each other.

In third grade, Yoongi calls you a stick during recess. He makes sure to say it loud enough so you can hear his insult but not as loud so the playground monitor doesn't hear. Sneaky brat. You turn to him with flashing eyes and tell him very upfrontly, "Says you."

The rivalry still exists in fourth grade, when both of you feel like you're too old to play on the playground. The seesaw incident is still ingrained in the backs of both of your heads, though. So even when you and Yoongi have your separate groups of friends, you still manage to be mean to each other.

For instance, the day before the annual fourth-grade square dance, you and your new group of friends spread a rumor that Yoongi has cooties. As a result, no one wants to be his partner the next day.

But then your partner, that brat, Park Jimin calls in sick on D-Day and so your plan backfires in your face. You dance with Yoongi. And now you have cooties too.

In fifth grade, girls are starting to talk about boys during recess. When the shy, cute Gayoung confesses her crush on Min Yoongi, you have to excuse yourself from the friend group. Instead, you go out on the fields to play soccer with the guys. Thankfully, cooties are 'for babies' in fifth grade, so you have free reign with the boys.

Park Jimin confesses he likes you in sixth grade. He tells you that you are pretty. But his confession was definitely not in your schedule. You're supposed to go to swim practice in five minutes. So you wave him off. Not because you hate him. But let's face it. The boy ditched you in fourth grade and you had to dance with Yoongi. Plus, now Jimin's Yoongi's friend. There is no way in hell you are going to butt noses with Yoongi's friend.

The whole grade goes in an uproar when they find out you rejected Jimin. You couldn't care less.

Seventh grade is weird. You finally get your period. And the new sex-ed class collectively makes everyone embarrassed. It also starts the influx of period jokes from yours truly, the boys. Whenever a girl is in a bad mood, the boys yell, "YOU MUST BE ON YOUR PERIOD!" You make note of every guy who says this. Then the second time they yell that to a poor girl, you hold up a tampon with ketchup on it. It shuts them up so well that all the girls in your grade start to carry around tampons and ketchup packets.

Surprisingly enough, Yoongi isn't part of the rowdy group of boys who make insulting period jokes. He's gotten much quieter over the years (middle school must've brought some sort of maturity on him), but he still finds ways to make your life miserable.

When there are rumors that Jimin will ask you out to the Halloween dance, you actually prepare to accept—maybe just to spite Yoongi. But turns out the whole rumor was a lie made up by the boy you despise. So you're rendered embarrassed.

In eighth grade, to your surprise, Gayoung asks Yoongi out. Of course, Yoongi would say yes. He knows you hate Gayoung. She had grown ample boobs and fit in with the popular girls who talked about boy bands and got dress-coded every day. You have no idea why such a popular girl would ask out a nerdy, rat-faced boy. But apparently, Yoongi is conventionally handsome. What a load of bullcrap.

It irks you even more when they become a revolutionary couple—the first time a girl has asked out a boy.

You make a bet with your friends that the couple won't last a week. Your wallet cries that year. You lose nearly ₩30,000.

By tenth grade, they are still dating.

You're starting to wonder if Yoongi somehow got his grubby hands on a love potion. There's just no way that whiny asshole can keep a girlfriend for that long. But according to your friend who is friends with the friends of the friends of Gayoung's friends, Yoongi is a good boyfriend. You want to gut yourself after hearing that.

Gayoung is always bragging about how Yoongi buys her flowers before class, and she makes sure everyone knows of this by posting pictures of the aromatic bouquets on Instagram. Yoongi often writes her little love poems and short stories, and though you're 100% sure Gayoung doesn't read them, she posts those online too. God, she is so annoying that you unfollow her. (You've blocked Yoongi's account a long time ago.)

For the most part, though, when hating Yoongi is not on your mind, your life is pretty normal. And you're definitely content. You and a sporty transfer student from America, Jungkook, have hit it off. It's fun taking him around everywhere to taste test all the convenience stores in Korea.

Until the day you catch Jimin and Gayoung lip-locking behind your favorite kimbap store. You and Jungkook look at each other with wide eyes. Before Jungkook can stop you, you snap a quick picture of the action and run away, tugging your friend along with you.

"Dude, you should delete that picture," Jungkook says for the billionth time.

"No can do," you tell him. "I'm sending it to Yoongi."

"To spite him?"

"Duh."

"Aren't you helping him by telling him his girlfriend is a cheater?" Jungkook challenges.

You squint. "You're actually right, Kook. Then I won't tell him."

"Isn't that a little bit too mean?"

"What??"

"I mean, they've been dating since eighth grade. It's been nearly two years, right?" Jungkook points out. "I think Yoongi deserves to know."

"Don't you dare!" you gasp.

"Sorry, Y/N," Jungkook shrugs. "It's just the right thing to do."

Two days later, Gayoung comes to school wearing not the school uniform but a short skirt and tight shirt. Her arm slings around Jimin, her apparent new boyfriend. Yoongi is nowhere to be seen.

Rumor travels around fast. And they're all accurate for the most part.

But it's not very satisfying to see Yoongi missing from all the action. The whole school day, you wonder where the fuck the boy is. Maybe he's crying his guts out. You've never experienced heartbreak before, so you're not sure if you have the right to say Yoongi necessarily deserves it. You can say though, that he had it coming. After all, all those years he teased you, he hadn't felt a single bit of remorse.

Sucks for him.

It's dark by the time you begin to walk home from school. You'd stayed late to brush up on your horrible chemistry skills so you wouldn't completely fail the final test. On the walk back, you notice the familiar playground. You'd grown up with that thing. But it's been a while since you've cared enough to stare at it.

Usually, the rusty old playground is empty. But today, a figure sits in the shadows. More specifically on the seesaw.

It brings back memories. That had been the same seesaw that had started your rivalry with Min Yoongi. And someone's sitting on it.

You squint, your curiosity getting the better of you as you creep towards the figure. Oh god. Once you see the outline of the person, you know this isn't going to be a very fun experience. Ew, you think. Gross.

But that's until it occurs to you that the person is crying.

Holding your breath, you walk closer to the crying boy. He's shaking, hands covering his face. The other side of the seesaw is up in the air.

He's crying about Gayoung, you realize.

You breathe out. "Need someone to sit down to fling you out again?"

Yoongi jumps. He hiccups. Then he quickly wipes away the tears streaming down his face. "Shut up."

You grin, sitting down on the other side of the seesaw. And this time, neither of you fling off. It is completely balanced.

"What are you doing here?" Yoongi croaks when he realizes you're not going to be leaving any time soon. He sniffles, but for the most part, he hides the fact that he'd been crying very expertly.

"I dunno." You shrug. "What are you doing here?" When there's a pause, you add, "I didn't see you in school."

"Oh, didn't know you cared."

"I don't."

"Figured."

"Did you break up with Gayoung?"

Yoongi laughs scornfully. "No. She broke up with me."

"Yikes, really?"

"What is your deal, Y/N?" Yoongi sighs. "Are you going to laugh in my face? Tell me I deserve this?"

"Not anymore..." you grumble. "Because now there's no element of surprise."

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "I reckon you spread the rumor?"

"...The rumor?"

"Yeah, the fucking rumor!" Yoongi shouts, throwing up his hands. "You're the one who told everyone Gayoung was cheating on me!"

"Woah, there! I didn't say anything about it!" you yell. "It's not my fault your ex decided to hook up with Jimin!"

"What??"

"Here! I have the fucking receipts!" You whip out your phone, aggressively swiping through your photos before landing on the exact one you were looking for. When you show Yoongi, his eyes turn wide but his posture deflates. He looks defeated.

"She actually cheated...?"

The way he says it with wide eyes and a slumped attitude makes you feel a tiny bit of pity. But the habit of being mean to Yoongi sticks.

"I'm not even surprised."

Yoongi glares at you.

"I mean," you say with an innocent shrug, "she's been eyeing other guys since you started dating her."

"I know..."

You are not about to show sympathy to Min Yoongi. You are not going to let down your guard. You are going to stay cold and emotionless—

"I'm... uh... I... er, I guess I'm sorry."

Yoongi lifts an eyebrow. "Why are you sorry?"

"Well, it just seemed like you really liked her—"

"Nah."

"Oh?"

"This is going to sound very stupid."

"Try me." You grin. "In my eyes, you always sound stupid. Remember? I got in trouble for calling you stupid in kindergarten."

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "How could I forget?" He grips the seesaw handles. "I don't think I've ever really liked Gayoung."

"Damn, this is tea," you gasp. "Why bother dating her for so long, then?"

"Ha!" Yoongi laughs. "Good question, Y/N. I don't know," he says sarcastically. "I was probably trying to piss you off. Didn't think it'd last that long."

"Oh??" You raise your eyebrows. "But didn't I just see you cry over Gayoung?"

"Er—"

You definitely caught him in a lie. Though it's dark, you can imagine Yoongi flushing a bright shade of pink—he does that when he's guilty. Not that you cared enough to notice over the years.

"It's okay she's with Jimin now. Not your problem."

"Is this your half-assed attempt of trying to solace me?"

"No?" You make a face. "Why on earth would you think I'm trying to solace you, Yoongi? You called me fat in first grade."

"I see you still hold grudges."

"Oh, that's really my only talent," you snort.

"Aren't you a really good planner?"

"Me?" Is this a compliment you hear?—and from the Min Yoongi?

"Yeah, you're going to plan the graduation ceremony, right? They hand-picked you from the student council, didn't they?"

"Well, uh, yeah." You raise your eyebrows in both surprise and suspicion. "Didn't think you'd care."

"I don't."

Of course.

"Okay, fine by me."

"Why are you even here again?"

You pause. Actually, why are you here? You could've just simply walked away and never had this conversation with Yoongi. But you'd stopped. And now you're talking with him. You answer him truthfully. "I really have no idea."

Another pause.

"Are you gonna ask me to leave?"

"... No."

"Oh." You cock your head. "Okay."

The two of you stare at each other. A staring game commences.

But Yoongi blinks first, claiming you the victor of the little contest. "You can stay if you want."

You scoff. "Excuse me, I didn't know I needed your permission."

Yoongi throws his hands up in the air. "Do you always have to fucking pick a fight?"

"You're the one who starts them!"

"I didn't even say anything mildly rude."

Okay, he might kind of have a point. Maybe all those years of hating him have ingrained permanent hatred in your head, so whatever comes out of Yoongi's mouth seems like an insult that you have to respond to with equal rudeness by reflex.

"Where did we even go wrong?" you sigh, rubbing your forehead.

Yoongi snorts. "Literally right here. On this seesaw."

"You're right," you laugh. This is probably the first time you and Yoongi have agreed on something; it's a foreign feeling that doesn't quite settle right in your stomach.

"Remember when Jimin had a crush on you?"

"Oh stop—" Just one single sentence brings back so many memories.

"Now he's downgraded to girls like Gayoung," Yoongi snorts.

"Oh?" A wide smile stretches across your lips. "Are you saying I'm an upgrade compared to that vile girl?"

"When you put it that way, I'm not so sure."

In any other circumstance, you'd think Yoongi's attacking you again, putting up another unnecessary fight. But right now, it's obvious he's just teasing you.

"Let's face it, Yoongi. I'm better than your ex, aren't I?" you tease right back.

"Barely," he grumbles, but he mumbles under his breath, "but yes."

Thankfully, your owl ears pick up the last part and you grin haughtily. "That's all I needed to hear." Just by habit, you glance down at your watch, frowning when it reads a little past 10 p.m. You're definitely behind schedule right now. Strangely, though, it's kind of worth it, talking to your self-proclaimed nemesis without ripping each other apart with moderately hurtful words.

Yoongi takes notice of you checking the time. Always the same, he thinks. He can't remember the last time he saw you without a watch.

"Anyways... it's getting kind of late..." you say. But you're careful not to stand up from the seesaw—just in case you'll accidentally fling Yoongi off again.

Yoongi nods in agreement. "Yeah." But what he hears next is beyond what he would've ever thought would come out of your mouth next.

"Wanna get some cup ramen? I know a good convenience store nearby."

"With me??" The words slip out of Yoongi's mouth before he can maintain his stoic, chilled composure.

"Why not?" You shrug. "Maybe tonight's the night we can finally stop fighting and act civil for once."

"I am getting tired of the back and forth bickering," Yoongi admits. "Not a bad idea, Y/N."

"I come up with genius ideas once in a while." You flip your hair back and grin. "We just can't stay out before 12 because I need to plan my friend's birthday party before 1."

"I'll get you home by then."

"You're going to walk me home? How boyfriendly."

"It's a habit," Yoongi grumbles.

"A good habit. Keep it up, Min," you laugh. "Then you'll get a new girl in no time."

The two of you count to three before carefully getting off the seesaw together. There are no accidents this time. Everything seems... balanced.

The most what the fuck moment in your life comes when you wake up one morning and realize the person you text and hang out the most is, indeed, Yoongi. Months ago, the thought of him made your blood boil. Now, he's just a friend—a very close friend, too.

Entering eleventh grade with Yoongi by your side is weird. Every other school year, the two of you tried to stay away from each other as much as possible. Yet this year, it's the complete opposite. The two of you solace each other. Even if that involves heavy teasing and harsh verbal exchanges.

"You idiot!" Yoongi shrieks. "And you just let her get away with it?"

"Why yes, why yes I did!" you scream in your shrill voice that makes Yoongi almost flinch back. "What was I supposed to do? Yell at her and tell her I deserved to be class president and not her? Tell her to her face that she cheated the votes?"

"Yes?!"

"Well, I didn't have the guts!"

"Why do you always run away from your fucking problems?"

Yoongi's words pierce through your heart and suck up your anger, replacing it with regret. He’s right though. When something doesn't go the way you planned, you have a habit of ditching. You're afraid of the consequences that will follow when you freestyle everything. And Yoongi knows this.

"I-I... I just... It's easier," you sigh, slumping over your desk seat. "What else am I supposed to do?"

"Fight back maybe?" Yoongi's tone is softer after he sees you become dispirited. "I mean, hey, you win some, you lose some."

"I know... I just feel like I'm always losing these days."

"It's okay," Yoongi says. His big hands awkwardly pat at your back. And as funny as it is that he's attempting to comfort you, you're actually well comforted. "Doesn't matter whether you win or lose. What matters is the experience."

"Wise words."

"Well, I'm a wise person." Yoongi gives you a shit-eating grin.

"Oh god."

Sometimes, Yoongi's the one who breaks down, though it's not as often as you do. But once the storm comes, it's hard to make it leave.

"Please don't talk to me right now."

"But Yoongi," you plead, knocking on the door to his room. "I had to practically beg your parents to let me in!" you whisper angrily. "Come on, open the damn door!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Do you want me to break the door down??"

Silence follows and a small click indicates that the locked door is now open. You carefully turn the knob and push. Yoongi faces you immediately and the way his eyes are red and his cheeks are wet is indicative of a beforehand hysterical crying session.

"Oh, Yoongi..."

"I said I don't want to talk about it," he mutters. But you know he's just saying that because talking about it will make him cry again. You know him too well.

You pull him into a hug. "Maybe music isn't for you," you say. "It's okay if you failed that path. There are many more to take."

He's silent, squeezing you tightly. But you don't mind the silence at all. It's more peaceful that way, and you know he's actually listening to you when he's not talking.

"You're good at writing aren't you?" you whisper, patting his back. "Maybe that's your path. And if it isn't, so what? Poke at every pathway until you find one that's just right for you."

It's advice for yourself as well. Yoongi's upset that he was rejected from a music audition he was preparing to pass for years; he knew he wanted to pursue music and he did it, though it might not have been very successful. You, on the other hand, have no idea what you want to do in the future.

"I guess we both have to start on new paths now, right?"

By twelfth grade, you and Yoongi are beginning to bicker like a married couple. At least, that's what Jungkook says.

"For the last time, we do not sound married!"

Jungkook rests his head on the palm of his hand. "Sure. Sure."

"The thought of even being romantically interested in Y/N gives me goosebumps," Yoongi snorts.

"But the good kind of goosebumps if you know what I'm talking about," Jungkook says. He wiggles his eyebrows in such a suggestive way that you mock vomit.

"Okay, gross," you groan. "The day I catch feelings for Yoongi is the day the whole world will end."

"Um, right back at you," Yoongi frowns. "Don't worry," he says, giving you a cocky grin. "I'm very repulsive. You'll never catch feelings for me."

"We'll see about that," Jungkook snickers.

Every year, Yoongi writes you a birthday letter. Even now, in college, he manages to find time to make the same effort he's made for the past two years. Every year, he somehow makes you cry with his elaborate words. And every year, Yoongi films it because he's a little shit.

This year though, the tone of the letter is much, much sweeter than you expected. Almost as if it's a love serenade and not a platonic letter to your best friend. The writing is elaborately flourished and fluffed up to the point it sounds like a love poem. And you swear Yoongi spritzed perfume on the envelope because the letter smells (shockingly) amazing. The message itself doesn't make you cry. Instead, after you finish reading it, you stare up at Yoongi's camera in shock, jaw dropped open but no words coming out of your mouth. Yoongi seems to like that reaction a lot, and he even zooms up on your dumbstruck face to make fun of it later.

He'd written ten things he loves about you. And it drove you crazy that you didn't know whether it was platonic or romantic.

Love, Yoongi. He'd signed the letter. Not the usual, From your bestest motherfucking greatest friend, Yoongi.

What the fuck did 'Love, Yoongi' even mean??

And it happens so that the two of you fight about it later on.

"This year's birthday video is the best one yet," Yoongi laughs as he tries to turn the camera around to show you the screen.

You jerk away, frowning. "That is not funny."

"Why? Didn't like my letter this year?" He's teasing you but you're annoyed.

"It was different."

"A good different?" Yoongi nudges your shoulder, a smug smirk plastered on his lips.

"Literally, please, stop. Before I wipe that smirk off your face."

"Okay, okay," Yoongi sighs, raising up his hands in defense. "I bet you're just salty you can't name ten things you love about me."

"You're right, right now, I can name zero things," you scoff.

"Liar. You wouldn't have stuck by my side for this long if you didn't love me."

The fact that he's right makes it more irritating.

"Fine. One. You're an asshole—"

"Come on, is that really a reason?" Yoongi laughs. "This isn't ten things you hate about me, you know."

"Hear me out. You're a certain species of asshole that I find slightly more bearable than any other asshole," you say. "I think you're a tolerable asshole. It's a compliment."

"Thanks?"

"Two. You're an idiot—"

"Is this how the rest of the reasons gonna go?" Yoongi scoffs incredulously. "My letter was heartfelt at least!"

"No, but you're a bearable idiot. The kind that irks your strings just enough to make you pissed but not enough to make you explode. No idiot is tolerable but at least once in a million years you give good advice." You shrug as Yoongi shakes his head in denial.

"I always give good advice."

You roll your eyes. "Three. You're not very good looking—"

"I shouldn't even have asked," Yoongi grumbles. "Why did I fucking bother?"

"No, but you're not ugly. Isn't that good news?" you giggle as Yoongi just shakes his head at you. "It's perfect! That way, you attract people with your personality and not your looks! It's a compliment," you add when Yoongi glares at you.

"Whatever," he says.

"Four!" you say triumphantly. "You are drama-free. Except with me. But I'm an exception because I'm special."

"You got that right," Yoongi mutters underneath his breath. "What about five?" Compared to a minute ago, he looks more interested in your list now.

"Five? Well, you're genuine," you say nodding your head. "You wouldn't let me walk around with an eyelash on my face or spinach stuck between my teeth."

"Yeah 'cause you'd embarrass me too because you'd be by my side," Yoongi protests.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that."

"Fine. Six?"

"Six... hm..." you hum. "You have pretty eyes."

Yoongi laughs out loud. "Thanks, I guess."

"Seven... let's see... hm..." You rub your chin thoughtfully. "Well, you put the toilet seat down for me."

"My mother didn't raise a hooligan."

"I actually agree with you on that one," you say, laughing. "For eight, I want to just say you're a good friend."

"You stole my number 8 on my letter to you!"

"Yoongi, you should just be glad I even repeated it back to you," you giggle. "Wanna hear nine before I forget?"

Your friend sighs but he nods.

"You're a very good writer. And I'm not just saying that to boost your already enormous ego or anything, but I genuinely think you can write," you say. "And I love that because then I get these good ass letters on special occasions. It's weird how you can choose each word so carefully that all of the meanings fit in this gigantic well-flowing story. And you'd think you'd use all these hard vocabulary words to throw me off, but your writing's easy to read and comprehend. It makes it more impactful." You quirk your brow at your friend who finally looks satisfied. "Is that enough?"

"Yes, now that's more like it!" Yoongi grins. "Butter up my ego a bit more, won't you?"

"Can't. I don't have a number ten for you." You shrug. "Sorry."

"C'mon, you can only think of nine reasons why you love me?" Yoongi leans into you, poking your cheek. "I thought of eleven but I had to take one off. This isn't very fair."

"Oh? What was the eleventh?"

"It was more of a joke so you don't need to know."

"Excuse me? I love jokes—even though I don't take them very well."

"Yeah, well, I especially don't want you to take this a bad way," Yoongi says.

"Was it something mean about me??"

"Kind of."

You frown, scrunching your nose. "Try me."

Yoongi shrugs. "Fine, then. I called you oblivious. Happy?"

You lean back from your friend, giving him a disgraceful look. "Me? Oblivious? First of all, no. And second of all, why would you love that about me?"

"Oh, I don't know, because you're so oblivious you can't even tell that I like you??"

One look at Yoongi and you can tell he's dead serious. "Woah," you breathe. You want to ask him to repeat what he just said to see if you heard him correctly the first time. But he's already looking a little impatient at your delayed answer. So you gape at him, muttering a soft, "Like? As in...?" You can't finish the sentence.

"As in love?" Yoongi finishes for you. "Sure."

"Bro..."

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "I thought the letter made it obvious, Y/N."

"Well, I thought you were joking." You fidget with your hands. "Damn, Yoongi, now what the fuck am I supposed to say?"

"Do whatever you want with that information," he says, shrugging so nonchalantly that you wonder if this man even has feelings.

"Broo..."

"And if that means you're gonna keep saying 'bro,' then I guess that's fine too." He gives you a shit-eating grin.

"No, it's just that... wow. Since when??"

"Like, a year ago? Bit after Jungkook called us a married couple," Yoongi says. "But I'm so dead inside I hid it pretty fucking well. I kept thinking it'd go away too, but man, I still like you now, so I guess the feelings aren't going away anytime soon."

"But what are you proposing??" You run your hands through your hair. "That we go out??"

"Okay, you said it, not me."

You huff. It's weird. This dynamic you have with Yoongi. One moment you're bickering and the next, Yoongi's confessing his feelings for you. Strangely, though, you're not as turned off as you expected.

"One date."

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. "One date?"

"You can buy me dinner, and if it goes horribly, we're going right back to friends," you bargain. "In the case that it goes well, then, uh, you tell me."

Yoongi laughs. "Oh, I'll be the one to tell you, all right."

And unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on the way you look at it), he's right. Four days later, your relationship with Yoongi becomes official. It irks your strings that none of your friends are even the slightest bit surprised about your newfound romantic relationship with the man you'd known for way more than half of your life.

"We all saw it coming, Y/N," they tell you. "We're actually surprised you two didn't date sooner."

But Yoongi is actually a good boyfriend, so there are no regrets. Aside from the small bickering here and there (the married couple kind of arguing), your relationship with him is sound. And the fact that not much has changed in the way you treat each other since you began dating makes you wonder if you were technically in love with Yoongi this whole time but you were way too blinded by your stupid senses and habitual, platonic teasing that you didn't think you actually liked him romantically. It doesn't really matter now, though. Because you're with him anyway.

Yoongi's love language is quality time and coincidentally, so is yours. College becomes a blast. When you're not studying, you're with Yoongi and when you're not with Yoongi, you're 'studying,' but really thinking of your boyfriend.

Yoongi has a way of plaguing your mind. It's been like that since you were little, too.

Once out of college, things become more difficult. Marriage matures into a serious question that neither you nor Yoongi is ready for. So both of you put it off.

As soon as you secure a job as an event planner and Yoongi becomes a professional grant writer, the honeymoon phase of the relationship plummets to the ground.

For nearly eighteen years you were a victim of Yoongi's 'teasing.' His judgmental remarks. But there is a time and place to be a critique.

"Oh, come on, the food isn't even that bad, Yoongi. Just a little bland. That's it."

"There was a hair in my soup," your boyfriend complains. "I'm asking for another bowl."

"Okay, fine, but don't ask for the manager like last time."

"Last time, the waitress called me a tightwad!! What was I supposed to do?"

"Just let it slide? You yelled at her for bringing you bad food when she didn't even cook it! Can you please stop acting so above everybody?"

"Whatever." Yoongi sets down his silverware. "I'm gonna Uber home." He tosses you his credit card and it slides across the wooden table and stops right in front of your dish. "And I'm going to write a Yelp review of this shitty place."

"You're not a fucking entitled writer! Stop acting like one!" you call out to him as he turns his back to you and storms away.

You end up eating dinner at a restaurant by yourself. Yoongi's right, the place is shitty, and the food is bland, but it's not downright intolerable.

Often, these days, it feels like your relationship with Yoongi is spiraling downward. The two of you cannot seem to agree on anything. It reminds you when you'd hated him in your younger years. But you can't hate him now; you live with him.

He's unavoidable.

Usually, Yoongi drives. The car feels foreign to you only because you normally don't sit in the driver's seat. The short mixtape of songs Yoongi wrote and produced for you plays the moment you turn on the engine. He'd gifted that to you a few months ago, after one of your bigger fights. You let the soft serenades play as you drive home.

No matter how many times you and Yoongi fight, the two of you make it up to each other somehow. There is no fight without a resolution. Yoongi will be waiting for you when you get home.

And he is. He's waiting with a blueberry yogurt cake from Paris Baguette sitting on the kitchen island and a letter in his hand. A written apology. Because Yoongi thinks he conveys his feelings better in writing than with spoken words.

"I'm sorry for storming off..." he says almost shyly. The man is nearly twenty-five years old but he sounds and looks like a guilty child with his lips pulled out in a pout and his eyes glancing nervously at your face to see if you weren't going to yell at him. "I, uh... didn't write the Yelp review."

How can you stay mad at that?

"And I wrote you an apology..."

You walk closer to your boyfriend and hug him. "Thank you..."

"Yeah," he says. "And good news, the cake will be really flavorful compared to what you had for dinner."

You smile. "Good thinking."

After a storm, there is always a rainbow. When there is a down, there is an up. And vice versa.

"Can we please stop planning every single fucking second of our lives?" Yoongi says exasperatedly. He flings away the brochure you had handed him that detailed the week's trip to Hawaii down to the last minute. "We're going on vacation. This makes me feel like I'm going to a stupid summer camp."

"If we're going to Hawaii, we shouldn't just relax around in the hotel all day, Yoongi," you scoff, gathering the abandoned brochure and tugging it to your chest. "There's stuff to see on the islands. We need to try everything my friends did! Why would we even go to Hawaii if we're not going to do these fun activities?"

"Come on. 7 o'clock breakfast? 8 o'clock hiking up to the falls? 10 o'clock scuba diving in the ocean? 12 o'clock lunch at the top of a big ass hill that we have to climb up ourselves? 1 o'clock zip-lining meters in the air? 2 o'clock festival? I could go on, but isn't that too much? When can we breathe?" Yoongi shakes his head. "No way. And all of that's just in one day. And the second day is even worse. Y/N, I want to go there to rest."

"If you wanted to rest, then you can do it at home," you argue. "Why go to Hawaii to rest?"

"There are different types of resting," Yoongi sighs. "What's a better way to fall asleep than in front of the ocean? We get to relax in a hotel, which means we won't have to make our beds or cook our meals or even do the dishes. That's relaxing for me."

"Well, it's not relaxing enough for me."

"Come on, Y/N. We went to Banff and you planned every single second of the trip there. I thought it was miserable. Can we please relax just once? For literally one trip?"

"But I already booked everything..."

Yoongi curses. "Why are you always four steps ahead of everything? It's unnecessary!"

"Maybe I'm not four steps ahead and you're just four steps behind!"

"Oh, so you're telling me that everyone else in the world plans their days down to the last second." Yoongi rolls his eyes. "Bullshit, Y/N."

"It's not my fault you're so—so, fucking lazy!"

"I'm not lazy!" Yoongi's eyes flash as he slams the dinner table. "You're just too high maintenance! Fucking nobody can keep up with you!" Before you can react or even yell back, he pushes his chair away and stands up, stomping away in a fury. You can hear him enter his study. There's that familiar door slam again. And the click of the lock means you won't be getting in that room anytime soon.

You're left by yourself, clutching the Hawaii brochure to your chest. A little angry at yourself but a lot madder at your boyfriend. With a bitter scream, you toss the brochure in the trash and curl up in a ball at the side of the couch.

But the thing about you and Yoongi is that with time and space, you recognize each other's perspectives. The rest is history.

Three hours just crying out your pent-up anger gets the irritation out of your system. By the time you're done though, you're a little hungry and guilty. You make a few phone calls and switch things around.

"Hey." You knock on the door of Yoongi's study. You're too afraid to turn the knob yourself. "I know you're in there."

No answer.

"I canceled the excessive activities..." you whisper against the door. "We can plan the trip together... I mean, better yet, we don't even have to plan anything at all... We can be..."—it pains you to say but—"spontaneous."

"Go away. I'm trying to work."

Sometimes Yoongi takes a bit longer than you to come around.

But by dinnertime, he's crept out of his study and has already ordered takeout from your favorite restaurant. The steaming pile of white rice and perfect side dishes lie on the dinner table, waiting for you. He waits for you too.

"I got a new client," he says, looking down at his hands. "And I got your favorite food." You notice that he's holding the Hawaii brochure you'd thrown away. It's a little wet on the sides. Maybe because Yoongi had to wipe off the remnants of the leftovers in the trash that had stuck onto the paper. Your boyfriend finally looks up at you. Shyly. Almost cautiously. "Wanna compromise?"

"Compromise?"

"We plan half of the trip and wing the rest of it," he offers. Yoongi slides you the brochure. "See, so I was thinking..."

You've always hated roller coasters. They are almost always unpredictable with head-jerking twists and turns that bring you closer to vomiting the contents of your stomach rather than pure bliss. There are one too many ups and downs.

Yoongi likes to joke that your relationship with him is a roller coaster. Only because there are too many dips that rocket up to the sky only to plummet down again. You disagree. Because, eventually, no matter how shitty the ride is, roller coasters do end. Your relationship with Yoongi is not over.

You like to compare your relationship with Yoongi like the ocean waves. But during a tsunami. The ups are great; the towering waves give you a beautiful vantage point. And it's all fun and games until the waves crash down on everything you once loved, destroying them. And the process repeats so much that in the end, there is nothing left.

That's what you feel now. Empty.

Alone in the bed with Yoongi downstairs and nowhere to be seen near you.

After a while, even the highs of the relationship makes you feel numb. The lows wreck you past your breaking point. It takes more time to find resolutions—the fights go on for longer than days, even weeks.

When you were younger, fighting with Yoongi was irritating at most. Now, they leave you sobbing and drinking alone in the corner of the bathroom. But it's so late in the game.

You've known Yoongi for over eighteen years of your life, since kindergarten. You keep telling yourself that he's the only one in the world who could understand you; and you're the only one in the world who can understand him. But other than that, you can't find another reason why you're with him.

Sometimes, you listen back to the mixtape he made you years ago. The lyrics don't apply to you now. And this year, for your birthday, he half-assed a letter for you last-minutely because he was 'busy.' Busy drinking with his friends the night before. You've stopped planning your dates for months.

Actually, when was the last time you went on a date with him?

You can't recall.

Maybe the back and forth arguing you and Yoongi had gone through in the majority of your relationship was a sign—a bad sign. If only you hadn't met him on the seesaw that day. Then maybe none of this would've happened.

You might be dating someone you have things in common with. Maybe someone you don't argue with as much.

Falling asleep with tears in your eyes that keep the pillow wet until morning is an occurrence that you're too familiar with. It is an occurrence you want to stop. When Yoongi isn't downstairs by morning, you're thrown into further misery. He usually works from home... He must be really angry to leave without saying anything.

You eat breakfast by yourself. Lunch consists of ramen. And dinner... Yoongi's still not home so you skip the meal altogether.

By 9 p.m., you look at your phone. You don't want to be the first person to break—the first person to apologize—but you worry. Will he hang up on you? Tell you to go away? The possibilities seem endless.

So much thinking hurts your head. Some fresh air might do the trick. Before you know it, you're wandering around a familiar rusty playground again. It brings back childhood memories. When your hand trails across the paint-chipped monkey bars, you're brought back to when you were only six years old. The towering obstacle had looked so big when you were little. Now, you could easily cross the bars by simply walking.

It's strange to see the once-bustling playground be completely empty and in the dark. You hear that they're going to tear down this place to construct a little convenience store so no one must've visited this playground in a very long time. You'll miss it when it's gone. You had a lot of fun around here.

Just as that thought passes through your head, your eye catches sight of the seesaw.

Ah, the start of everything.

Slowly, you walk towards it. Each step makes your feet sink further in the smoothed over gravel but you manage to sit at the very edge of the seesaw. Immediately, the other side flings up in the air. It reminds you of when you flung Yoongi in the air. A pretty funny memory. But not right now. Thinking about Yoongi now hurts.

You hate it when you start to contemplate the worst-case scenario. A breakup. Moving out. Stress. Tears.

You run your fingers across the rusty handle of the seesaw. Hopefully, things don't come to that. But how much longer can you handle the arguments? They seem to be elongating as time passes. What if one day, the argument lasts a month? Several months? A year?

If there is one thing in your life that you strive to achieve, it's predictability. With Yoongi, there is none of that. He makes last-minute plans out of nowhere and doesn't tell you until the last second. Then you have to go on a frenzy to reschedule everything. It is a cycle that you've become sick of. And he's sick of you planning everything.

That has been the issue of the last ten fights.

The same issue.

And it's unfixable.

You and Yoongi are rock bottom on the very floor of the Mariana Trench. The back and forth game of banter has turned into something more serious, and it just isn't as light-hearted and funny anymore.

"Hey."

You nearly fall off the seesaw at the sound of Yoongi's voice. He's got his hands shoved in his pockets and he looks like he was awake for more than 24 hours.

"H-Hey," you say.

"The seesaw, huh?"

"Yeah." You nod. "The seesaw."

Yoongi smiles but it's not a very happy one. Even now, you don't think either one of you wants to apologize for the fight.

"I've been thinking," Yoongi sighs. He doesn't spare you another glance before he sits on the other side of the seesaw. You're suddenly jerked up in the air. There used to be a balance but it seems like Yoongi's gained some weight—or you've lost a lot. "Remember when I said our relationship is like a rollercoaster?"

"And I said I disagreed."

"Right." Yoongi sighs. "I take that back. We're not like a rollercoaster. We're in a game."

"A game?"

Yoongi gestures at the seesaw. "This is our game."

"...The seesaw?" You raise an eyebrow at the man but Yoongi doesn't budge.

"Yes. Look." Yoongi pushes off the gravel with his feet, putting himself in the air while sinking you to the ground. "And when you push..." Following his words, you launch yourself back in the air. Yoongi looks up at you as he sighs. "We're always on opposite sides, opposite places."

"Even when we try to balance," he continues, trying to lift his body to bring you down to the same level as him, "we fail." He ends up higher than you now and you look up at him.

"Some game this is..." you mutter.

"It's a game of ups and downs," Yoongi tells you. "It's tiring, isn't it?"

"Of course it is."

"And like all games... there is an end."

You raise both eyebrows. "Oh."

"From day one, you know... we weren't really supposed to get along," Yoongi says. "But somehow seeing each other every day, bickering with each other... all of that let us be in closer proximity with each other. And then we thought we were meant to be."

"You're analyzing our relationship?" you scoff.

"Don't act like you haven't done the same, Y/N."

You're silent.

"It doesn't matter whether we love each other at this point, Y/N... Does it? Love or not, I don't think I can live like this."

It's ridiculous. You're having a grown-up discussion possibly leading to a breakup on a fucking seesaw of all places.

"You want to separate?" Your voice comes out smaller than you expected. When it becomes a reality, it's much harder to digest.

"You've been thinking about it too, right?" Yoongi sighs. "I mean, I heard you call your mom the other day. And it didn't sound too good."

Guilty. "Well, yeah, I've been thinking about it... Just... I just didn't think it'd become a reality so soon." And you always thought you would have initiated the breakup, not the other way around.

"Yeah... I felt bad you always took initiative with things so I decided to save you the stress and do it myself."

"Wow. Thanks." You shake your head. "Real thoughtful."

"Right?" Yoongi grins. "I don't think a lot will change if we break up. We've always hated each other a little."

You let out a wry laugh. "I'll never forgive you for calling me fat."

"And I'll never forgive you for calling me stupid."

"Looks like we're even."

"Yeah, for once." Yoongi shrugs. "I guess we can be platonic roommates until I find another apartment."

"Sounds good to me." You ignore the tears welling up in your eyes as you try to smile. "Let's get off this seesaw to seal the deal then."

"The end of the game." Yoongi's voice shakes just enough for you to know he's crying.

And as the two of you walk back to your shared apartment with tears streaming down your faces, you realize you wouldn't have it any other way. A breakup any later would be regretful—even wasteful of time. A breakup any earlier would've left you to separate forever. A breakup now is perfect.

You're acquainted enough to still possibly be friends. But not bound by marriage to make the procedure worse and more complicated.

Of course, you love Yoongi. But sometimes, you love the wrong people—the people you don't belong with, the people who won't make you happy. You're just glad you didn't run away in the beginning. Yoongi taught you a difficult rivalry, a difficult friendship, a difficult relationship. But you don't always have to go the hard way.

When a relationship becomes like a game—repetitive with the addition of wins and losses—that's when you know you can stop.

You'll be on the easy route now and find someone who is as crazy about planning as you.

You look up at Yoongi. His cheeks are wet with tears but he doesn't necessarily look sad. Instead, he looks hopeful. Like he'll find somebody who can appreciate his love for leaving sarcastic Yelp reviews or somebody who loves spontaneity as much as he does.

And when he finds that special somebody, you'll be happy for Yoongi. But, of course, not before you tease the living shit out of him first.

—masterpost

—masterlist

#ficswithluv #btswritersnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanfairygarden #btswritingcafe #yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi imagine #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #bts #bts fanfiction #propinquity #okay let's pretend i totally posted this fic last friday #like halfway thru this week #i remembered i never posted on friday omg clown #🤡🤡 i don't even think i've been on social media #school rlly said no❤️

[nightbts]

through the night | jjk | 05

pairing: jeon jungkook + stylist! reader

word count: 6.5k

genre: fluff, angst + idol! au, friends to lovers! au

parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

an: yall...this one is... *inserts side eye*

listen to this playlist while reading!

best of friends. that’s what you and jungkook were. as their stylist for several years now, you and jungkook got along like no other and over time developed a friendship that was special to the two of you. but what happens when an IU collaboration deal, a jealous childhood-best friend and secret feelings get intertwined with the simple life you thought you were living?

A heavy silence filled the room as the door slammed behind Jungkook. Sitting there on the couch, you felt several pairs of eyes on you, enough to make you want to crawl into the corner of the room and disappear.

But instead, you stood up with a sigh before grabbing your own things and following Jungkook. Closing the door behind you, you quickly caught a glimpse of his brown hair as you saw him turn the corner of the hall.

“Jeon Jungkook!”

Briefly turning his head at the sound of his name, you saw his gaze fall on you before he quickly turned away with a scoff, continuing to walk at the pace he normally was.

Chasing him along the hallway, you quickly caught up to him as his name softly left your lips yet again when the both of you heard something vibrate in his pocket. Stopping in place, Jungkook grabbed his phone, eyes scanning the name that flashed on the screen.

Your own gaze followed his as the name that filled his screen caused the tightening sensation in your chest to return again. Frowning, you looked up at Jungkook who was staring intently at you.

“What?” you glared, slightly taken aback, “Shouldn’t you be picking that up?”

Glowering his eyes at you he replied with a sneer, “I don’t know, should I? Or would it be childish of me to do so?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered lowly, crossing your arms across your chest. Motioning for the idiot to pick up the call, he finally swiped to answer it, bringing the phone up to his ear.

“Hello, IU-sunbaenim!” Jungkook immediately greeted, his face instantly brightening up as she greeted him back on the other end.

You weren’t able to hear much of what IU said but you did see the way Jungkook’s eyes glistened with every word she said, his head quickly nodding in agreement, while his brows furrowed together deep in thought before replying to whatever she had to say.

Looking down at the ground, you sighed softly to yourself. You started to feel a bit bad for the things you said earlier—after all, IU was Jungkook’s dream girl ever since he was a young teenager. Who were you to shatter his hopes? You were just the girl who hopelessly fell for the person you knew you couldn’t have...

Standing there awkwardly until the phone call finally ended, you saw Jungkook hastily shove his phone back into his pocket before he looking back up at you again. His eyes slowly scanned your face, your gaze that stared down at your shoes, your lips that pursed into a tight line as your eyebrows scrunched together. 

Clearing his throat, he said, “Well, was there something you had to say to me?”

Looking back up, your lips parted as you thought of all the things you had wanted to say earlier. All the things you were confident enough to tell him because you didn’t want your own heart broken by the thought of anything happening between him and IU. All the selfish things that now tasted bitter on your own tongue.

However, you quickly shook your head and instead plastered a smile on your face, one you hoped he would believe, “Actually, I just wanted to say I was sorry. I shouldn’t have said the things I did.”

Blinking in surprise, Jungkook’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Wait...what? That’s what you wanted to say?”

Chuckling humorlessly, you simply replied with a nod, “Yea, I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately.”

Avoiding his suspicious gaze, you turned around before quickly adding, “I have to go back now. I’ll see you around Jungkook.”

“Y/N...w-wait—” you heard him start to say, but you continued to walk away. 

You knew nothing was set in stone yet here you were, acting like they both confessed their love for each other already. But knowing yourself, you knew you had to prepare yourself for anything that would happen. Because if it were to, and you were still hopelessly in love with him, you would be absolutely broken without repair.

Watching the recent episode of Haikyuu on his phone, Jungkook sat sprawled across the couch when he felt someone shove his legs, “Hey, this couch is for all of us, you ass”.

Pausing the video, Jungkook popped an earphone out as he met Jin’s gaze, grinning cheekily at the older member. Waiting for him to sit down, Jungkook instantly swung his legs back up, this time onto Jin’s lap.

Scowling, Jin shoved Jungkook’s feet away before groaning, “Get your stinky feet away from me!”

“Hyungggggg~” Jungkook whined playfully, earning another glare from Jin before finally huffing in resignation, allowing Jungkook’s feet to rest over his lap as he grabbed the TV remote, mindlessly switching through the different channels.

Smirking to himself in victory, Jungkook went back to watching the episode when a familiar voice filled the room. Looking up, Jungkook noticed that Jin had landed on KBS2, which was broadcasting Music Bank at the time. Watching the stage slowly illuminate, revealing a small, petite figure standing alone, Jungkook couldn’t help but smile.

“She sure is amazing.” he heard Jin comment, to which Jungkook hummed in agreement, “You could say that again.”

This whole thing was like a dream to him; from the moment IU had asked him to collaborate with her to the Skype session they had yesterday, it all just felt like a really really long dream, one that Jungkook hoped he would never wake up from.

Swaying his head to the soft tune, Jungkook’s eyes were glued to IU’s comeback performance when a slight snicker grabbed his attention. Turning his head to the side, he watched Jin hyung tsk at him before chuckling again, “Oh, you are too cute you know that?”

Taken aback, Jungkook retorted, “What are you laughing at?”

“The face you make whenever you see, hear or speak about anything IU-related” Jin laughed. Widening his eyes, Jin parted his lips slightly, imitating a look of awe before he pointed to his face, “This. This is how you look. Every, single time.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook grumbled, “I do not,” even though his cheeks flushed, feeling a tinge of embarrassment. 

“Although, you actually look like that a lot whenever you’re around Y/N.”

Snapping his head up in surprise, Jungkook suddenly choked on his own spit, quickly falling into a fit of coughs. Blinking innocently, Jin looked at the younger boy in alarm.

“Hey, you alright there?”

Witnessing his blush deepen, Jin saw Jungkook rub his chest in circles before stammering, “W-What do you mean by that?”

Jin’s concern quickly washed over as a small smirk replaced it. Sending Jungkook a pointed look, he said teasingly, “I don’t know, what do you think I mean?”

Frowning, Jungkook stammered, “I-I don’t know what you’re implying. We’re  just friends...”

Humming softly, Jin turned his attention back towards the TV when he finally said, “Mm, I’ll believe that for now.”

“Hyung!”

Groaning in frustration, a flush-faced Jungkook grabbed his phone from the couch before getting up and leaving the room, muttering a couple of things under his breath that Jin couldn’t hear.

As Jungkook walked out, a confused-looking Jimin entered the room, watching as the youngest member left the room with a flustered look on his face.

“What was that all about?” Jimin asked, popping a chip from Jin’s bowl into his mouth as he went to go sit next to him.

Looking to his side, Jin gave him a knowing look, “Oh what else? I brought up Y/N and he immediately got all flustered.”

Raising a brow, Jimin said with a slight chuckle, “Is that so?”

Turning his attention to the TV screen, Jimin shook his head in amusement, “I wonder when the two of them will finally realize how stupidly in love they are with each other.”

Jin snorted in response. It had been a while since many of the members had caught on to the fact that there was something between you and Jungkook. Not only was it because the two of you were always stuck to each other by the waist, but it was also in the way you both looked at each other, like there was nobody else in the world as special as the other.

“Maybe in a million years they will. It amazes me how blind they are to each other's feelings when all of us can see it so clearly.” Jin finally said with a dramatic sigh. 

“Hmm, I guess they’re just that typical rom-com couple you see in every show these days.” Jimin simply hummed before reaching out to grab another chip from Jin’s bowl, just to be met with a smack to his hand.

Shooting him a glare, Jin scowled, “I let you off the first time but not again!”

Putting on the best aegyo-face he could, he fluttered his lashes and pouted his lips as he tried to grab another chip just for Jin to smack it again, “No! Go get your own, you thief!”

“Pa pa pa PA! That’s it!” Hoseok cheered, clapping his hands together.

It was late at night yet you were sitting on the floor of the dance studio, watching some of the boys practice their choreographies for their tour performances. After helping the other stylists and coordinators organize the boys’ outfits and the order in which they would change into them, you felt too tired to leave so you decided to just stick around and head home when you were ready to.

Sitting on the side of the room, you watched as Hoseok instructed Jimin and Jungkook with his ever-famous “pa pa pa”s. You felt yourself smile in pride as you saw each of them working their hardest, focusing and executing with so much precision, it was like they were actually performing.

Letting out a quiet yawn, you stretched your arms upward releasing a soft moan as you felt the release of the slight ache within your tight muscles.

“Y/N, what are you still doing here?”

Looking up, you gave Jiho a lopsided smile before motioning for him to sit down next to you. Sighing, he shook his head as he sat beside you.

“Why haven’t you left yet? I saw everyone leaving like an hour ago.” Jiho asked again.

Shrugging, you said nonchalantly, “I don’t know, I was just too tired to walk all the way to the bus station I guess.

Poking your forehead, Jiho chuckled softly, “Of course. Of all people, you would be the only one to stay at her workplace even when she’s done with work.”

Yawning again, you naturally let your head rest on Jiho’s shoulder as you snuggled closer into his side, “Let me just take a quick nap, and then I’ll leave with you, hmm? It’s always so boring to walk alone.” 

Stiffening lightly, Jiho looked to his side as he saw your eyes slowly flutter close. Oh, Y/N...Jiho thought to himself as he sighed inwardly, you really do have to make things so difficult for me, don’t you?

As a couple minutes passed, your breathing slightly evened out as he could feel your chest rise and fall with every breath. Finding himself smiling softly at the peaceful look on your usually tired face, he let out a small sigh of content before turning back to look at the boys practicing. 

Yet as he did, his gaze met Jungkook’s as the younger boy stared at Jiho with an unknown look in his eyes.

Realizing he had been caught, Jungkook quickly flashed Jiho an awkward smile before turning his attention back to Hoseok hyung. However, he couldn’t help but find his gaze falling back on your sleeping figure, the feeling of his stomach dropping when he saw whose shoulders you were sleeping upon, shoulders that weren’t his. 

“Jungkook!”

“Hey, Jungkook! What are you doing?” 

Tearing his gaze away from you, Jungkook looked up at Jimin and Hoseok with wide eyes as the two dancers looked at him in suspicion, both of them sharing looks between each other.  

“Why are you just standing there, it’s already late! We need to get this done if you want to go back to the dorms at a reasonable time.” Hoseok sighed impatiently. 

Quickly nodding his head, he muttered a quiet apology before getting back into position, waiting for the music to start again.

What was wrong with him? It wasn’t like him to act this way, yet recently he couldn’t help but feel an odd sensation within himself whenever he saw you with Jiho. Or with anyone else for that matter. Even when he would catch you mid conservation with Jin hyung about the latest recipe you had tried out, or when he would find you and Namjoon hyung obsessing over some book he couldn’t even pronounce, the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach was something he hated, for he knew your friendship wasn’t something that was solely his. After all, you had known the rest of the members as long as you had known Jungkook, and Jiho even longer. 

Shaking his head, he tried to get rid of the thoughts that had been swarming his brain the last couple months when suddenly a yell echoed through the hallway outside the dance studio. 

“JEON JUNGKOOK!” 

Tripping on his own feet, Jungkook fell to the floor with a thud as a flustered-looking Taehyung burst through the doors. 

“W-What’s happening?” you jumped as you woke up with a start, rubbing your eyes gently while they adjusted to the bright lights that filled the room. Gaze falling on Jungkook on the floor, his face wincing in slight pain, you found yourself immediately pushing yourself off the ground, automatically moving towards him. 

“J-Jungkook! You alright?” 

Giving you a slight nod, you gave him your hand as you helped pull him back up to his feet when the both of you looked up to meet a sheepish-looking Taehyung. 

“Jesus, what is it Taehyung? You scared the shit out of us!” Jimin exclaimed as he walked over to Jungkook, giving the younger boy a quick once-over, making sure he was okay. 

Not before flashing you all an apologetic smile, Taehyung excitedly pointed to his iPhone screen, “You will not believe what I just found.” 

As he shoved the device into Jungkook’s hands, Hoseok, Jimin, and Jiho all crowded around you and Jungkook as you all watched Jungkook press the play button on the screen. The black screen quickly illuminated as the title of the video appeared first. 

“IU talks about her single featuring one of BTS’s hottest members, Jeon Jungkook!” 

“Mmm, fast forward to about 3:30 mark,″ Taehyung pointed out, as Jungkook forwarded the video. 

 “IU-ssi. We have to ask you how the collaboration with BTS’s Jeon Jungkook is going!”

Chuckling softly, the sound of her laugh itself like music, IU responded, “I have to say I can’t say much now, but things are going amazing. Jungkook-ssi is a very talented individual, as I’m sure you all know.” 

Jungkook found his heart swelling with happiness as he heard his idol praise him, that too on live television. 

“Yes, of course! One of the best singers in the industry for sure. How has the process been going in all? With BTS currently being on tour and all.” 

“There have been times where it has been difficult for sure, but Jungkook-ssi is very dedicated and our meetings have been very efficient, so we are getting a lot of work done,” IU replied with an appreciative smile. 

“That’s good to hear! So do tell us, IU-ssi. Did you know that you are Jeon Jungkook’s ideal type?!” 

“Ha!” Jimin snickered, wagging his fingers teasingly at Jungkook, “I knew all your interview confessions would one day lead to this.” 

However, for a split second, IU looked slightly taken aback, almost as if she hadn’t known this. But just as quickly, the singer composed herself before laughing warmly, “No, I hadn’t heard of that. That is very sweet of him.”

“Well, what about you IU-ssi? After all, you’ve been talking to Jungkook-ssi for a while now! Would you say the BTS member is somewhat like your ideal type too?” 

As the interviewer dropped the question, the entire room suddenly went silent. Turning to look at Jungkook, you saw his face go white, the color draining from it as he stared intently at the screen in front of him, his gaze unwavering. 

This time IU was evidently flustered, the question clearly catching her off guard as she laughed nervously, “Ah, I haven’t known him for very long you see—” 

“Oh, I’m sure you could still gather enough at this point, don’t you think?” 

Nodding slowly, IU smiled tightly until she finally responded, “I-Yes, he’s a handsome individual and also very determined and passionate about music, which is very nice to see—”

“Wonderful! There you have it folks, IU reveals her ideal type to be no other than BTS’s Jeon Jungkook! I wonder if this collaboration will be the start of a blooming romance between the two amazing singers! Stay tuned for more, after the break!” 

And with that, the video cut off. 

Swallowing the lump that appeared in your throat, you found yourself staring at the blank phone screen, afraid to even look at Jungkook and his reaction to the video.

“Wow.” was all Hoseok could say, “That just happened.”

Nodding slowly, Jungkook handed the iPhone back to Taehyung who looked at him expectantly. Meanwhile, as you slowly lifted your gaze you found Jungkook already looking at you, his gaze unreadable. 

“Jungkook! Why aren’t you freaking out?! IU basically said she thinks of you as her ideal type!” Taehyung exclaimed as he grabbed Jungkook’s shoulders, shaking them vigorously. 

Snapping himself from your own confused gaze, he couldn’t help but think back to the words you said in the dressing room.

“...a little childish...” you had said, your words feeling like a slap to his face, yet he knew there was truth to your words. It would’ve been absolutely crazy to think IU would ever like him in that manner. 

But this? He suddenly didn’t know how to feel. 

“I don’t know...” he started to say, a hint of uncertainty laced within his voice as his brows together. Finally, he let out a sigh before adding, “I just... that interviewer pretty much manipulated her into saying that and she didn’t even finish her thoughts before he cut her off.” 

Blinking, you found yourself slowly taking in Jungkook’s words before looking at him in surprise.

However, it seemed that you weren’t the only one. 

The rest of the boys around you all had a similar expression as they stared at Jungkook in slight shock until Taehyung finally said, “Wait what? So, you’re like not phased by this interview?” 

Scanning all of your faces and the looks of absolute confusion etched upon them, Jungkook found himself chuckling before he nodded, “Not really? Like I said, IU-sunbaenim looked really uncomfortable and was basically forced to answer the question.” 

This time you piped up, not knowing what exactly made you do so, “But you never know right?! Like, she could’ve been flustered for other reasons.” 

“Yea! Exactly!” Taehyung exclaimed, pointing at you, “Y/N has a point!”

This time, it was Jungkook’s turn to look completely confused before he recalled, “Weren’t you the one who told me it was “childish” for me to think IU-sunbaenim could ever like me? Hmm?” 

Flushing deeply, you rubbed the sides of your arms as you stuttered out an apology, “I-I know I’m sorry about that—”

Quickly shaking his hands in front of him, he grinned, “I’m just messing with you. I didn’t mean it like that Y/N. Honestly, I kind of understand what you meant after thinking about it. You’re not wrong, you know?” 

Biting down on your lip, you simply stood there, unsure of how to exactly respond to that. 

“Well, I agree with Jungkook.” Jimin piped up, “We all know how interviewers tend to ask risky questions and then manipulate our answers to make news out of them.”

Frowning slightly, Taehyung scratched the back of his head, “Yea. I suppose that makes sense too.” 

Hitting his arm gently, Hoseok scolded Taehyung, “And there you came, screaming and scaring us while we were mid-practice.” earning an apologetic grin from the younger member. 

At that point, the boys decided to call it a day and head back to the dorm as it was way late into the night and they had a pretty packed schedule tomorrow. Deciding to pack your stuff up as well, you looked towards Jiho, who stood by the doorway waiting for you. 

“We better hurry if you wanna catch the last bus,” Jiho said, checking the bus schedule on his phone. You and Jiho lived fairly near each other and therefore often rode the bus home together after work. Jiho had even joked about letting you move in with him when his roommate had moved out, and honestly, you would’ve but you knew your mother would kill you if she found out you were rooming with a guy, even if he was just your best friend. 

Swinging your backpack across your shoulder, you waved goodbye to the rest of the boys before leaving with Jiho.

“God, it’s cold.” you said as a shiver ran through your body. Pulling your long sleeves over your frozen hands, you bit your lip as the cold, night breeze brushed past you, making you only shiver more. 

Giving you a bemused look, Jiho said, “You never dress appropriately for the weather, you know that?” 

Shooting him a glare, you frowned as you dug your face into your the neck of your hoodie, “Yea yea I know. You’ve only told me that maybe like a million times before.” 

“You would think after a million times, someone would finally listen.” 

Opening your mouth to protest, you resorted to muttering a couple less-than-nice words under your breath, to which Jiho laughed aloud, the sound ringing loudly through the silent night sky. 

Before you knew it, Jiho moved so that he stood in front of you, causing you to abruptly stop in place as you looked up at him in confusion. Just then, he shrugged off his jacket before draping it around your shoulder, “Here, wear this dummy.”

“Jiho, what about you—” you said as you started to remove the jacket, but Jiho simply shook his head, stopping your hands and instead helped you put it back on, “I’ll be fine. You, on the other hand, have the immune system of a baby.” 

Accepting defeat, you slipped your arms through the jacket’s sleeves, allowing the oversized piece of clothing to completely drown you yet giving you a feeling of warmth you oh-so-needed.

A sigh of content slipping past your lips, you snuggled further into the soft material before finally breathing, “Thanks Jiho.” 

Ruffling your hair slightly, he replied with a small smile, “Yea, don’t mention it.” 

Watching you from the side of his eyes, he couldn’t help but feel his heart beat a bit faster. Drowning in his jacket, you looked so small and absolutely adorable; meanwhile, your cheeks and nose were a soft red from the cold weather, giving you a naturally flushed appearance. 

At that moment, Jiho felt like he would do anything to be able to just hold your face in his warm hands, pull you close to him, and just feel your lips against his. Instead, he quickly stuffed his hands inside the pockets of his sweatshirt before he could do anything he knew he would regret. 

“Shit!” 

Snapping him out of his thought, Jiho turned to look at you in concern, “What? What’s wrong?” 

Crying in frustration, you groaned as you slapped your forehead, “I’m such an idiot! I left my wallet back at the studio.” 

“Well, can’t you just wait till tomorrow to get it?” Jiho asked as you quickly shook your head, “I need it now, it has my bus pass in it.”

Sighing, Jiho turned back around and started walking in the opposite direction, “Alright, let’s go then.”

Shaking your hands, you quickly blurted, “No! You should get home, you’ll miss the bus! I’ll go get it and if I get back fast enough, I’ll join you. If not, I’ll just call a taxi.”

“Y/N...” Jiho trailed off, his lips forming a frown as he stared at you with worried eyes. 

Patting his chest softly, you said reassuringly, sensing Jiho’s concern, “I’ll be fine. I’ll text you once I get home, okay? You should go though, it’s getting late and I know it’s already way past your bedtime, grandpa.” 

Lips parting to retort back, Jiho backed down knowing nothing he said would make you listen to him. So instead, he simply nodded. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then. Thanks for the jacket again!” you exclaimed with a grin, before turning around and slowly jogging back to the company building. 

Making it there sooner than you expected, you quickly typed in the building passcode and made your way up towards the dance studio, hoping it was where you thought you had left it. 

Walking down the hallway, your ears picked up the soft sound of music playing from the direction of the dance studio. Peeking your head through the door, the figure your eyes fell on confirmed your suspicions. 

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’re still here,” you said with a soft smile,  leaning against the door frame. 

Startled, Jungkook froze in place before quickly turning towards the sound, his face evidently relaxing when he realized who it was. 

“Oh, it’s just you..” he breathed, his chest heaving as he walked towards his phone which laid on the ground, pressing the pause button. 

“What are you doing back? I thought you were already late to catch your bus,” he said as he slightly dabbed away the sweat that dripped from his hair with a hand towel. 

Walking past him, you moved towards where you remembered placing your stuff, your eyes scanning for your wallet, “I left my wallet and it has my bus pass in it.” 

“Is this it?” you heard him say, causing you to turn around to see him holding up a tan-colored wallet.

“Ah, yes that’s the one!” you grinned as you walked towards him, but instead of giving it to you, he raised it higher up in the air, shaking it teasingly above you. 

“Oh, come on, don’t be a brat. You’re not that taller than me,” you huffed before stretching your hand up in the air, your fingers slightly grazing his wrist. 

“Jungkook~” you whined softly, this time standing on the tips of your toes, as you tried reaching for it once again, but still failing nevertheless as you endlessly grabbed at the air above you. 

“Fuck you,” you muttered in annoyance causing Jungkook to laugh at the irritation that clouded your face. At that moment, an idea struck your mind and before you could think any further, your body reacted first. Karate-chopping his stomach with one hand, Jungkook yelped in surprise, allowing you to take advantage of it and quickly grab your wallet from his hands. 

Grinning devilishly, you placed a hand on your hip before sticking your tongue out, “That’s what you get for trying to mess with THE Y/N L/N.”

Throwing both hands up in the air in surrender, he replied mockingly, “Oh dear, remind me to never mess with you again.” 

Dramatically whipping your hair behind you, you lifted your backpack from the ground and zipped it open. Carefully placing your wallet inside it, you looked up in surprise when you heard the sound of music resume around you. 

“Jungkook...” you trailed off, as he turned to look at you mid-step, “It’s getting late, you should head back.” 

“Yea I know, but I have to get this last bit down.” he simply replied before going back to dancing again. You knew better than anyone that Jungkook was doing well enough, but being the perfectionist he was, you knew he wouldn’t stop until he himself was satisfied. Which unfortunately usually happened after a lot, and a lot of practice.

Resting your back against the wall, you stood there as you saw Jungkook stare at himself through the mirror, his concentration unbreakable as he repeated the same dance move a number of times, each time at a different speed and with a different amount of power. 

Finally, turning to look at you, he asked slightly breathless, “Y/N could you do me a favor?” 

Nodding in response, he walked over and handed you his phone, “Here, can you play this bit of the song, from 2:45-3:20, and I’ll dance it twice and can you tell me what looks better?” 

Eyes quickly glancing at the clock in the room, Jungkook’s gaze followed yours before quickly saying, his hands moving back towards his phone, “Nevermind, I shouldn’t keep you here—” 

Shaking your head softly, you said, “It’s alright. The buses are all gone by now anyway, so it doesn’t matter anymore.” Ushering him to go back to his position, you waited for him to give you a thumbs-up before pressing down the play button. 

Performing the choreography for you the first time, you restarted the section once it reached the 3:20 mark and watched him perform it again, his movements not drastically different but enough for you to see the difference in the execution. 

“I think, I liked the first one better.” you finally said after a bit of thinking. Walking up to him, you turned to face the mirror as you showed him the specific step you were thinking of, “But I think when you do this step, doing it the second way looked better. So maybe combing those together?” 

Looking at him through the mirror, you saw him raise a brow before giving you a teasing smile, “Well, someone just went from stylist to a dance teacher real fast.” 

Punching his arm softly, you replied with a shy smile, “I just wanted to give you some helpful critique is all. Obviously, you can do whatever you want, for I cannot dance to save my life.” 

Tilting his head to the side, he smirked, “Now, that can’t be completely true.” 

Scoffing, you said, “Oh trust me. When I was younger, my mom put me in ballet lessons, and every time I would do a lil twirl I would fall on the ground because I got too dizzy.”

Waiting for you to tell him you were joking, Jungkook looked at you expectantly  until he finally said, “Wait, you’re serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

Stifling a laugh, Jungkook stared at you until you sighed, causing him to burst into laughter. Standing on his toes, he tried to imitate your elementary-school self as he twirled, before dramatically falling onto the ground. Mimicking a child’s voice, he said, “Oh I’m so dizzy, someone help me.”

Frowning, you kicked him softly as he continued to laugh harder, his hands holding his stomach. A couple seconds passed before his laughs began to die down, “Wow, I really needed that today.” 

Getting back up on his feet, Jungkook took the phone from your hand as you saw him scroll through his music library. Eyes brightening, he clicked on a song and pressed the play button, the slow pop track with a slight R&B beat to it, filling the room instantly. 

Just then, Jungkook offered his hand to you. Raising a brow in confusion, you simply stared at him until he sighed and moved towards you himself, slowly grabbing your hand in his. 

“Dance with me.” 

Eyes widening, your breath hitched in your throat as you began to stutter, “D-dance?” 

“It’ll be fun,” Jungkook chuckled softly, squeezing your hand. Pulling you to the center of the room, Jungkook looked down at you and almost laughed as you continued to stare at him in absolute horror. 

“Jungkook, I don’t know if you have short-term memory but I just told you I can’t dance.” 

“You’ll be fine.” he assured you as he let his other hand rest loosely on your waist. Body moving closer towards you, you started to feel your heart rate spike when he whispered softly into your ear, “Just follow my lead.” 

As the song slowly began to reach the chorus, you let Jungkook slowly guide you through the floor, showing you fairly simple steps that you attempted to follow under his guidance. As the chorus rolled into the second verse, you found your body relaxing into Jungkook’s touch, the nerves dissipating as you allowed yourself to succumb to the music. 

You could feel Jungkook’s touch everywhere; his hands that guided your waist with every turn, his fingers that traveled down your back before reaching the length of your arms, his touch soft and supportive as they sent warm tingles down your body. Yet, you didn’t feel nervous. Instead, you found yourself only falling more, the familiarity of his skin feeling comfortable against your own. 

With every stumble, every falter, every accidental step on each others’ feet, apologies would spew from your mouth only to be quickly replaced with soft giggles and laughter. Jungkook would simply grin in amusement and laugh, as he made the two of you move in exaggerated manners: spinning you around, dipping you towards the ground, and finally pulling you up. 

Slowly, the song came to an end as Jungkook pulled you in towards him, his face mere centimeters away; his arms rested on the curves of your hips as yours had found its way around his neck. The two of you were slightly breathless, your breaths mingling as soft waves of laughter spilled past the both of your lips. 

As a soft silence hung over the two of you, you looked up into his eyes, noticing Jungkook’s playful gaze had slowly softened. There was something in the way he looked at you; his deep brown eyes were suddenly unreadable and completely unknown to you. Just then you saw Jungkook’s gaze flickered down to your lips before meeting your gaze once again, the subtle movement causing your cheeks to flare in response. 

As his forehead gently fell against yours, your eyes fluttered instinctively to a close as you felt his nose softly brush yours, the subtle touch electrifying. 

Suddenly, you felt Jungkook’s grip on your waist loosen; opening your eyes, you saw Jungkook pull away as he looked down at you with a soft yet nervous smile. Your lips parted slightly, yet no words came out; instead, you found yourself flushing, cheeks burning in embarrassment. 

Clearing your throat, you gently removed yourself from his grip before giving him an awkward smile. 

“I’m s-sorry—”

“I—” 

Speaking at the same time, you both chuckled nervously, neither of your gazes meeting each other. 

Running his hands through his hair, he gave you a small smile, one that still managed to make your heart beat erratically in your chest as your brain could only find itself replaying the last couple minutes in your head. 

“Y/N? Did you hear what I said?”

"Huh?” you asked dumbfounded, blinking at him until you saw his mouth twitched into an amused smile, “I said we should get going, it’s pretty late.” 

Nodding quickly, you walked over to where you laid all your stuff down and grabbed them before moving towards the door. However, even then the two of you had managed to walk at the same time, as your shoulder bumped into his. 

“S-sorry!” you squeaked, cheeks turning pink as you quickly brushed past him, clutching your backpack close to you. 

Glancing at you, Jungkook let out an airy chuckle before you felt him ruffle your hair softly, “Let’s get you a cab, okay?” 

// 

“Jungkook—” you said with a start as your hands moved towards your wallet, but the boy before you shook his head. 

“Please, don’t. After all, I owe you for staying back and helping me out.” Jungkook said with a small smile.

Biting down on your lip, you started to stay something when Jungkook interrupted, “I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” Motioning for you to go inside with his hands, he added, “You should get inside, it’s really cold.” 

Giving you a small wave from inside the cab, you pulled Jiho’s jacket closer around you as you watched as the car drove away, becoming smaller and smaller until you weren’t able to see it anymore. 

// 

Resting a hand against his chest, Jungkook felt his heart hammering against it. Letting out a shaky breath, he tried staring out the window and focusing on the world outside but instead, his subconscious kept pulling him back to you. His mind was filled with images of your face as he had danced with you tonight; the way you laughed, the way you stared at him with wide eyes, and the way your eyes fluttered close in anticipation as Jungkook had almost kissed you. 

He almost kissed you. 

And you didn’t move away. 

Shaking his head in utter disbelief, he found himself chuckling softly; your conversations, your hugs, your warm touches, your laughs and jokes, your everything. 

You were simply everything. 

He didn’t know why it took him so long to figure it out, after all, it was what his heart had been telling him all this time, yet his mind has been rejecting it because he was afraid. Afraid you wouldn’t feel the same, afraid you’d reject him, afraid he’d lose someone so important to him because of his foolishness. 

But today, everything changed. 

Today, he knew, he wouldn’t be afraid anymore. 

author’s note: i think im crying 

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[ppersonna]

indulgence - jjk | m

love of mine, won't you lay by my side and rest your weary eyes before we're out of time? give me one last kiss for soon such distance will stretch between our lips - as much as i ever could, city and colour

↳ summary- Sometimes your boyfriend Jungkook reminds you how much you love him by doing absolutely nothing at all.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 3.8k

↳ pairing- jungkook x reader

↳ genre- fluffy smut, smutty fluff, whatever you wanna call it. its got fluff and smut, established relationship

↳ warnings- oral sex (m receiving), penetrative sex, real hot love making, squirting? sure, unprotected sex (condoms are cool use them)

↳ a/n- lindy is in her feels apparently because this was supposed to be hot and kinky and i just made it real romantic but whatever dskgjkg. thanks to @sugarly-laysa​ for requesting jk smut i hope this is good for you, booboo  ily all thanks for reading!! feel free to come chat with me, request smth, tell me how your day is, etc etc etc.  enjoy cute babie jk being cute.

You’re not sure why the universe decided you are lucky enough to be the one to love Jeon Jungkook, but as you trudge into your apartment after an inexplicably horrific day at work, you realize you should thank your lucky stars for aligning just right to make him yours.

Jungkook doesn’t realize you’re home.  He’s too distracted at the sink, hands soapy as he scrubs at the dishes from the day.  He’s wearing those jeans you love, the ones that fit him tightly and show off his perfectly shaped ass and toned thighs.  He’s singing off key to his own songs, hips rolling in a minute version of his carefully practiced choreography.  He performs for the dishes only, unaware of the audience of one in the doorway.  

A smile that hasn’t broken through the cloud of despair all day makes its way on to your lips without you even noticing.

Jungkook is like the lighthouse in the storm.  He guides you home and keeps you safe from crashing and burning. His presence brings you safe harbor and you find yourself able to be at peace no matter what, as long as he’s there keeping his light on for you.

You don’t announce your presence.  You’re unwilling to end his show too early.  He continues scrubbing at pots, often flinging his watery hands around the room as he continues to dance like he’s performing at Seoul Olympic Stadium all over again.  Although his movements are jerky and unrefined now in his multitasking and his singing is definitely a pitch or two off, he pours his heart into the private performance.  

It makes your heart clench.  You love how much he loves his career, his life.  He’s grown up in it—it's the only world he knows and yet it still hasn’t tainted him.  He grew into a man capable of so much more than just singing and dancing, and you loved watching him blossom with every passing year.

Jungkook has clearly taken care to clean the entire house today.  You hadn’t asked him, and truthfully you never needed to.  He was as good of a partner as you could get.  He never felt you should be responsible for household tasks.  He took care of his own things, like a grown man should.  He adored it when you helped, washed his clothes for him or cleaned up his mess after a night of gaming, but whatever you gave to him, he did back for you plus some.

As you lean against the wall, staring at the love of your life popstar boyfriend pretending to be a popstar, wooden spoon as microphone and all, you recognize you’re the luckiest girl in Korea.  Maybe even the world.

Jungkook is pirouetting around as he hits his high notes of ‘ON’ and shakily ends his solo in a deep lunge.  It breaks you from your silent role, a laugh finally making its way out and he snaps his eyes open and blushes.

“Hi,” he says sheepishly.  He holds the spoon in both clasped hands, as if to signify he totally wasn’t just singing into it like a microphone.

“Hi,” you reply.  Your coat and shoes come off, bag hung on the hook, and you make your way to him. 

“You washed the dishes,” you state as you approach.  He looks confused for a moment.

“Yeah, I made lunch earlier so I wanted to get them cleaned up.”  His confusion is apparent, unable to decipher the look in your eyes.

You’re staring at him with heat, an undeniable hunger.  The fact that Jeon Jungkook is yours and is in your kitchen doing his own dishes hits you hard.  It soaks you to the core.  Maybe it’s the domestic side of you, but you’re absolutely salivating at the thought he cleaned the kitchen and his mess with no problem.  He didn’t even do it to impress you, he just did it.  And you’re aching for him.

You’re slowly lowering yourself to your knees and Jungkook’s eyes widen.

“Wh-what are you doing? You just got home from work.” 

“I’m going to suck your cock.”  Your words are simple, and it makes him shiver.

“But why?”  The bulge in his pants grows regardless of his suspicion.

Your hands make their way up his solid thighs, muscles rippling under your favorite pair of jeans he owns, until they land at his button and fly.

“Because I really, really, really want to suck your cock until you cum down my throat.  Then I might do it again.”

He stifles a groan and nearly drops the wooden makeshift microphone from his grip.  

“Not that I’m complainin-ahhh...” he gasps as you pull his pants and underwear down to his knees and his cock springs free. “Shit—I mean I’m down but is there a reason?”

Your hands rub at his thighs once more and you smile sweetly at him.  

“Because I am in love with you.”

Jungkook is still confused. You know he wants to ask more, but your hand grips his length and all questions fly out of his mind as fast as they enter. 

“Okaaayy,” he sighs.  

He wants to tip his head back in bliss as you pump your hand, but he also wants to maintain eye contact with you.  How can he not? You’re gazing up at him as if he’s the one responsible for putting all the stars in the sky—like he lit every single one of them for you.  The intensity is intoxicating to both of you.

You can’t move your eyes away from him.  They trace over the lines of his face, the smoothness of his skin, the way his hair falls onto his forehead with just the perfect swoop.  You’re seeing him through fresh eyes for a moment, and it feels like you’re drunk.

“I love you,” you murmur as your lips move closer to him.  Jungkook sighs and lets his eyes close for a moment.  He can feel the heat of your breath on his tip, you’re sure of that, and as much fun as it is to tease him you can’t bring yourself to do it tonight when you’re so desperate to make him feel good.

“I love you too,” he coos. “Especially when you come home and wanna blow me immediately.”  He grins cheekily as he opens his eyes back up and looks at you.  Jungkook can’t stay serious in a situation to save his life.  Leave it to him to still try to make you smile when you’re about to milk his cock dry with your mouth.

“I should do it more often,” you assess as your tongue flicks out at the head.  You let it rub gently at the slit at the top where moisture has accumulated.  It tastes salty, it tastes like him.  

“You should?” He questions with a hiss at the feel of you.  “I mean, yeah, you should.”  He corrects himself and bites his lip.  Your tongue is still laving at the surface of his head, a sweet torture that makes his knees feel weak. 

“You did the dishes,” you repeat as your tongue now slides down his shaft.  It follows down the underside, the vein guiding you towards his pelvis and down to his balls.  You allow yourself to spend some time there, licking and sucking at them lightly.

“Oh f-fuck,” he gasps. “If this is what I get for doing the dishes, I’ll do them m-more.”  

You hum in reply as you suction them into your mouth and swirl them gently.  Your hand remains on his thick length, gently pumping and caressing him to keep him stimulated.  You can tell he’s losing his mind.  He’s been caught off guard and is now getting his cock worshipped by you.  You’re still in your work clothes—oxford shirt and tight skirt.  It makes Jungkook even harder, if that is possible.  He likes the idea that you literally couldn’t wait another second to get his dick in your hot little mouth.

You release him from your mouth and he moans at the feeling of the air on the moistened skin.  

“Fuck,” he whines. “You’re so hot.”

You smile up at him again as you kiss his length, punctuating each spot on his dick with a press of your lips. You trail back up to the head where he’s leaked more pre-cum, and you waste no time in wrapping your lips around the tip and suckling lightly.

“Shit!” He yelps at the sudden pleasure.  “Oh, my god.”

He’s going to lose the ability to speak coherently, you both know it.  He can last until you’re taking him into your throat, then he may as well be speaking a foreign language.  You never understand what he’s saying except the occasional gasp of your name.  You can’t wait until he gets there tonight.  You love sucking him stupid.

Your mouth accepts more of him in, tongue lapping at any surface it can as you pull him in deeper to your mouth.  He’s sighing his ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s like a proper gentleman, and one soapy hand comes to rest at your hair.  He gently pushes back any bangs or stray sections of hair that threaten to impede your pursuit.  He holds your hair back gently and watches you close.

Doe's eyes look back at him and soon you’ve got him buried inside you.  Tip to the back of your throat, your nose buried in the light splatters of hair at his base.  He is whimpering now, can’t believe a few minutes ago he was washing the dishes and now he’s balls deep in your throat.  

“Babe, oh my god,” he’s trying hard not to stutter.  He feels like he could cum, but he wants more.  He begs his body to behave, to let you have your way with him.  “S-so good.”

It pleases you; the approval rolling over your body like fine silk.  His voice is shaky and getting close to the sexy, fucked out sound that has you dripping.  

You allow him to rest inside your throat for a moment, swallowing around him to allow him the feel of the tightness, before you’re pulling away and starting a pace of bobbing your head up and down on him.  You never let your eyes leave his.  Even when he’s closing them in pleasure, you maintain constant contact with his.

He looks back down at you and feels his body quake.  You look incredible, still all dressed up and made up, red lips wrapped around his cock and bobbing a pace that gets him closer to the edge than he’d like to admit.  

His cock feels heavy on your tongue and it’s exhilarating.  You almost wish you could be attached to his cock at all times, sucking him until he’s had his fill for a few moments, then returning to the action.  You kick yourself for all the times you’ve not been sucking his dick.

Your hand joins in to assist your plight, fist gripping the areas of his cock you cannot reach with your mouth alone and pumping in time with your head bobs.  His cock quickly slicks up with your saliva and it’s easy to stroke him with the lubrication.

“Ohhhhh, fuuuu-,” he whines.  You smile at yourself.  You’ve made it.  You’re at the place where Jungkook forgets his native language and begins speaking a new one that only he is capable of translating.  He groans out unintelligible syllables, and it makes you go even faster knowing he’s past the point of no return.  

“Be-,..” he gasps. “Bayb-... Gonna cum.”  He warns.  His thighs are quivering and you allow the hand that isn’t stroking his perfect cock to completion to rest on one solid muscle, hoping it will help still the seizing in his legs.   You don’t slow down, don’t stop for a single second as you know he’s so near the edge.

You can tell by his facial expressions when he’s about to hit his high.  His moans go from loud and echoing around the room to silent, mouth agape in noiseless rapture.  His eyes close tight and his body tenses.  If he was naked, like he normally is when you’re doing this, you would see his abs tense so hard that a defined six-pack is on display like a little reward for sucking his dick so well.  His neck veins become more prominent and you can tell that with just a few more sucks, a little lick here and a nice hard pump there,

He’s cumming.  You feel the heat of his seed spill into your mouth and you slow your motions but don’t stop, never stop, as you coax as much of him out as you can.  His silence is broken as he groans in time with each pulse of his cock.

It’s a few seconds later when he comes back to reality, when he’s restored with the ability to speak a language you both know.

You pull away from him only when you feel his cock weaken, soften, inside of your mouth.  You release him and give him a show of your open mouth and hot white cum loaded on your tongue.  Like you want to savor each drop, not let a single drip go uncherished. It’s a fine dessert, you want to appreciate the flavor forever.

The act makes Jungkook groan.

“What the fuck,” he pants.  “That was so fucking good.”

You smile and close your mouth, allowing the pooled liquid to slide down your tongue.  For the first time that night, you allow yourself to close your eyes and relish.  It’s a familiar taste, the flavor of Jeon Jungkook that is incredibly addictive.  It tastes like home.  It tastes like love.  A high rushes through your veins, more powerful than any drug, of that you’re certain.  You feel drunk and euphoric.

He notices this and smiles at you.  His cock is still out, hanging out of his jeans awkwardly, but neither of you care.  He cups a hand on the side of your face and lets his thumb stroke your cheek gently.  

“You’re so good to me,” he whispers.  You open your eyes now, level them to look at the man above you.  He holds your face delicately and the penetrating stare he returns is adoring.  You are his prized possession—in his eyes you are appraised higher than any of the glittering gold awards lining your shelves.  

“I love you,” he states.  “Not just because you sucked the life out of me.”

There it is again, his cheeky jesting that captured you in the first place.  You slip a laugh from your lips as your hands unbutton your top.  You’re staring at each other and intention is written in the gaze.  He never wavers from your watch.  He doesn’t move his glance elsewhere as your top falls to the floor and your bra soon joins it.  He’s maintaining his firm sight as you slip the skirt off.  

Jungkook pushes the jeans to the floor and steps out of them.  There’s no talking, no dialogue.  No dirty talk, no kinky banter.  His plain shirt joins the rest of the discarded clothing items and he stalks to you and lays you down on the hardwood floor of your kitchen. 

It’s so heated, the surrounding energy, that it warms your skin in the otherwise cool air.  Jungkook radiates so much it’s palpable.  He presses his lips to yours and kisses you deeply, tongue immediately sliding inside as he’s desperate to taste himself on you, to solidify the notion you are his and he is inside you, both physically and metaphorically.  

His hand runs down your body as you kiss and suck at each other's lips.  It’s like kissing him for the first time all over again the way your body reacts.  Your veins feel as if they’ve been dipped into lava, it boils through your entire body and threatens to melt your core.  His fingers rub at your breasts for a moment.  He’d ordinarily spend time on them, but tonight is different.  Tonight there is one mission between the two of you, and that is to have him buried inside your tiny cunt as soon as he can.

The hand slips further. It caresses the smooth skin of your stomach and slowly sweeps down to your core where he feels the full extent of your love, of your arousal.  You’re drenched and have been since you first spotted him with his hands deep in soapy water and his own lyrics belting out of his mouth.   He doesn’t bother with foreplay—there’s no need tonight.  He’s sure he’ll be able to slip inside you with ease.  He allows a finger to run over your clit and gather up wetness there, before he drags it up and pulls away from your lips to lick your taste into his mouth.  It’s only fair he has you inside as you do him.  

The act has you gasping for air, lungs feeling as if you’re breathing underwater.  

He lines his cock up easily, finding it as if it’s magnetized to point to the true north of your center.  

His lips press against yours again as he pushes into you.  The stretch burns, matching the burning of the blood and the heat on your skin.  The feeling of him stretching you and filling you make you feel whole and complete.  You love the way his head nudges at your cervix, the way it kisses the tip with each thrust.

Jungkook sighs happily as he sinks in to the hilt.  You’re replying with your own assortment of moans and praises, kissing his lips hungrily as he starts movement between your hips.  His pace is slow and gentle.  He pulls out nearly all the way before he spears himself in again. He keeps his eyes on yours, watches the way your plump lips still covered in red lipstick opens and closes in awe and in fulfillment.  You’re boring into his own gaze, attempting to convey just how right he feels, how you’ve never felt an intense love-making as the one you’re engaged in now on the hardwood of your kitchen. 

You’re tight around him and he’s sure he’s close to the edge again.  He feels your channel tighten with each thrust in and it encourages him to ever so gently increase his speed until the sound of skin slapping is timing out a pace like a metronome.  He indulges in the feeling of your silken walls and the way it slicks up his cock and pulls him back in tight, desperately.

He lets a hand run back down you, meets your joined centers at the hood of your clit where he rubs circles around the nub.  It hits you hard as he murmurs his love and affection for you.  He whispers his devotion to you, to your body and soul, to your cunt.  He tells you he never wants to pull out of you, wishes he could bury himself inside the wet heat of your pussy for eternity. He’s never felt like this before, and he lets you know with each thrust of his hips, each roll of your clit around his finger.  

Your orgasm is approaching, you feel it not just in your core but nearly to your very bones.  It’s slithering its way up and wraps around your body, threatening to take over at any moment's notice.  You notice your words have run dry, that the sounds leaving you are as unintelligible as his and you realize you’re not so different.  He’s fucking you stupid and you feel it. 

“C-cumming!” You whine as your thighs tighten.  He powers through and continues his motions. 

“Cum for me,” he whispers.  “Cum, my love.  I love making you cum.”  

He doesn’t want to be dirty, doesn’t want to make you think of whips or chains that are fun on other nights right now.  He wants you to think of him.  Only him and the way the simple act of him being inside you and loving you has you coming completely undone.  You need no more, your body listens to Jungkook’s coaxing and releases you completely.  It hits like a hurricane and makes your body shake.  You feel wetness flooding your legs and if you were conscious enough, you’d recognize you’re quite literally squirting, but all you can feel is hot, white, deeply rooted pleasure that has you screaming and your body singing.  

Jungkook loses it as you soak his cock.  His body reacts to the knowledge he just made you squirt all over his dick from his slow and methodical pace, and he’s losing himself inside you.  His cock pulses with the intensity of his orgasm, as if it hadn’t just been given one earlier that rocked him entirely.  He pumps himself into you and stills as he feels himself finally stop filling you.  He doesn’t leave, still desires the ability to remain inside you all day, every day.

He kisses you again.  You’re panting and slick and wet and realizing now that you’ve just creamed yourself and your boyfriend on the floor of your kitchen, but when he kisses you, it doesn’t matter.  You don’t care as he presses his chest into yours and kisses you so hard he forgets to breathe, forgets he needs anything at all other than you. His body reminds him of his mortality and he pulls away, cum slicked hand coming up to move your sweaty hair from your face.

There’s no talking. There isn’t a need. You exchange enough between each other with the passion in your eyes and the softness in your grasp.

He holds you like he’s afraid to lose you and he lays himself down on the floor beside you, cock still resting inside your warmth.  He strokes his hand through your hair and down your back and over the hills and valleys of your curves. He sketches into your skin his love by the graze of his fingers and sucks your lips to his to embrace you fully.  He loves you.  You love him.  You both have never felt a love like this, one that encompasses you completely and shelters you from anything else.

Jungkook, always unable to maintain a sense of decorum, idly thinks he should wash the dishes more often.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

#bts smut #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts jk #maknaesmutsociety #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #btswritersnet #plotsofpastel #ficswithluv #jungkook smut

[hvllevator]

bts reaction: they teach you in using chopsticks

request: Could you do a bts reaction to them trying to teach you how to use chopsticks because you're a foreigner. Really cute and fluffy maybe with them feeding you pieces of food l I'd appreciate it a lot I love your writing

tw: food

a/n: i cant use chopsticks properly too mmm enjoy :D

Seokjin

you were the worst at using chopsticks.

and seokjin would just laugh at you whenever you tried.

you told him because it wasnt something that was really used in your hometown.

after a long time of seeing you struggle.

he finally decided to teach you and help you feed yourself.

he started off with picking up pieces of food on his own.

and occasionally feeding you.

then he gently puts his hand on yours to position your fingers on the sticks.

until you can finally scoop up the food laid in front of you.

he had the goofiest smile when you looked so happy.

needless to say he wouldn’t be laughing at you in the future.

Yoongi

yoongi didn’t really notice that you were unable to use chopsticks at first.

thought that you just weren’t fond of using them.

but when there was no other utensils except for those.

he saw you pout and struggled as you tried to scoop up the noodles.

he smiled to himself before he leaned towards you and scooped up noodles with his own.

and fed them to you.

you felt shy at the gesture but accepted it anyways.

he kept feeding you and you were thankful.

that was until you asked him to teach you so that you wouldn’t bother him anymore.

and he did.

watching you eat the noodles on your own, showing him that you could.

which he only laughed at.

he was so in love with you.

Hoseok

hoseok found it adorable when you asked him to help you.

in using chopsticks of course.

he didn’t think you were serious at first.

but after demonstrating that you couldn’t.

he was more than glad to help.

he started by showing you how to pick up food.

(which eventually went in your mouth)

then he held his hand in yours.

guiding your movement.

until you somehow got the hang of it.

“great! now feed me.”

Namjoon

namjoon found it cute that whenever the two of you were eating out.

you would ask for a spoon and fork instead of the chopsticks that were laid in front.

curiosity getting the best of him.

he asked you why.

though you were shy.

you told him it was because you couldn’t use them.

upon finding that out he offered to help you.

which you accepted of course.

it was also an excuse to hold your hand.

he began with guiding your hand, gripping on yours softly.

until you gradually got better.

he felt happy when you boasted about being able to use them.

a small but adorable thing about you.

Jimin

jimin noticed when you would eye his hand when he was eating.

he didn’t think of it at first.

thought that you just really liked his hands.

until he saw you try to mimic the way he was holding his chopsticks.

he then realized what you were up to.

giggling to himself.

he approached you, fixing the way you were holding the sticks.

you felt shu but listened to his instructions anyway.

he ended up feeding you before he could eat for himself.

Taehyung

taehyung offered to help you since he saw you struggling.

but not before teasing you a bit.

him boasting about how easy it was for him.

you glaring at him.

so now you were seated in his lap.

(he insisted)

with his hand guiding yours.

once you slowly got the hang of it.

you started feeding him in return.

and he became a smiley baby.

Jungkook

jungkook would often tease you about not being able to use chopsticks.

him waving his food around you.

(which you end up shoving in your mouth)

but then when he was all serious.

you finally asked him to teach you.

it took a lot of jokes before he actually did.

but he would be all sweet when he noticed how genuine your request was.

so when you were finally able to grasp them.

you were the one who feeds him in the end!

#bangtanarmynet #btswritersnet #kwritersworldnet #bts #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts fake texts #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #suga #jin #v #jhope #rm

[jjungkookislife]

The Only One

↬ pairing: best friend!Taehyung x f. reader

↬ genre: fuckboy!au, f2l, fwb, smut [18+]

↬ summary: Taehyung is just another fuckboy, except he’s in love with you.

↬ wc: 8.7k

↬ warnings: cursing, smut in flashback (both are 18/19), tae’s a semi-fuckboy, angst, virgin!tae and virgin!reader, oral sex (f. giving and receiving), dirty talk (slight), marking, pet names, fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, slight cum play. mention of the morning-after pill, reader and tae get in an argument

↬ date: May 15, 2020

Taehyung didn’t care about much other than getting his dick wet if he was honest, which he had no problem admitting with a grin. Although, he wasn’t as bad as Jungkook, who would finish with one girl, shower up, and go visit the next on the same night. The thought of it made Taehyung cringe, but he tried his best to stick to one girl a night.

Taehyung and Jungkook had been friends for years now, cut from the same cloth. They got along very well and aside from Jimin and Hoseok; they were the only constants in each other’s lives. The two had met at a party during freshman year in college, bumped into each other by accident, and then Taehyung helped Jungkook score a girl as an apology.

The two grew inseparable after being wingmen to each other and soon their reputations spread across campus as the two made their way through the freshman class. That’s how they met Jimin.

Jimin had heard of the freshmen that were rallying up girls faster than he had his first year of college, and he was interested in meeting them just to see if they were as attractive as everyone claimed they were.

Jimin was pleasantly surprised to see that they were quickly befriending them and introducing them to Hoseok, a Junior. Through Hoseok, the three boys were able to go to parties at his frat house, which made getting girls (and guys) easier for the three of them.

Taehyung hasn’t always been a fuckboy, he had just lost his virginity before he started his freshman year. The summer before college started, Taehyung managed to have a growth spurt. His face cleared up and his hairstylist gave him a trendy haircut which he later permed.

Today, Taehyung found himself lounging around in Jungkook’s apartment, laying on the couch with one foot on the coffee table and the other on Jimin’s lap as he scrolled through his phone.

“Are you sure he said he was coming?” Jimin asks as he flips through the channels, bored out of his skull as he looks at the wall clock, 9:37.

“He said he would be, plus, Hoseok is two minutes away. We can at least do a few shots before we head out to the club. I’m not spending $8 a shot,” Taehyung scoffs as he sends Jungkook another text message.

“If Jungkook’s with his girlfriend, he’s not gonna come. He’s probably waiting for us to leave to bring her over,” Jimin rolls his eyes as the door opens, Hoseok holding up two bottles of alcohol before kicking the door shut.

“Are you ready?” Hoseok grins as he walks to the kitchen, setting the bottle down on the counter before taking three shot glasses out of a cabinet.

“Jungkook’s not coming,” Tae states as he gets off the couch to walk to the kitchen, Jimin right behind him.

Hoseok shrugs, “more for us.”

Jimin pours the three of them a shot, taking it before pouring a second, grimacing at the taste.

“Fucking tastes like battery acid,” Taehyung gripes, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

“I’ll get something better next time,” Hoseok winks before pouring himself a third shot.

Taehyung looks at his phone, annoyed when he sees a reply from Jungkook apologizing for not being able to make it.

“He’s ditching us again,” Taehyung announces as he downs another shot. Jimin huffed in annoyance as well, shaking his head from side to side before pulling his phone out to get a Lyft.

“More girls for us,” Hoseok chirps as he puts the shot glasses in the sink before walking to the door, followed by the two younger men.

When the three arrive at the club, they head for the bar to grab a drink and scope out the patrons. Hoseok quickly catches the eye of someone and disappears into the horde of dancing bodies.

“He moves fast,” Jimin comments as he takes a sip of his jack and coke. Taehyung nods, looking around the club to see if anyone draws his attention, he honestly wasn’t in the mood to be out but it beats being around Jungkook and his girlfriend. Never in his wildest dreams did he think Jungkook would get a girlfriend before him, or at all for that matter. Taehyung liked his friend’s girlfriend, but he missed hanging out with Jungkook as often as he used to. It was rare when the two would be able to hang out alone without his partner there. Not that she was a nuisance but Taehyung missed Jungkook. He supposed that Jungkook didn’t want him around her because he too had a thing with his girl. If Taehyung were in Jungkook’s shoes, he’s not sure he’d want him around the man they had a threesome with.

Taehyung liked her, even had a crush on her at some point but that all ended the moment Jungkook finally confessed. He knew she liked Jungkook over him, so he wasn’t too upset over the situation, but Jungkook still found it hard for the three of them to be together. Although, if Jungkook and her were ever up for another threesome, he’s sure he’d volunteer.

“Still thinking about him?” Jimin cuts through his friend’s thoughts, noting how the younger man smiles warily before taking a drink from his glass.

“Just miss him,” Taehyung mumbles as he avoids looking at Jimin in the eye. Jimin nods in understanding, ending the conversation there as he spots someone in the crowd checking him out.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Jimin asks as he quirks his head toward the dance floor. Taehyung nods, encouraging his friend to go have fun.

With a heavy sigh, Taehyung takes his phone out of his pocket, quickly sending a message to his friend.

A minute later, his phone vibrates in his hand. Downing his drink, he sets the glass on the bar before pushing past the crowd to get out of the club.

“Bored already?” You ask the moment Taehyung answers your call.

“Extremely, Jungkook canceled again,” Taehyung nibbles on his bottom lip as he puts the phone on speaker before opening his Lyft app and getting a ride.

“You want to come over?” You lay back on your bed in your apartment.

“Not unless someone’s already there,” Taehyung grins as you scoff at him.

“You know where the key is,” you murmur before hanging up, already annoyed with your best friend.

“Honey, I’m home!” Taehyung calls into your apartment after he lets himself in, locking the door after him.

“You get more insufferable every time I see you.” you roll your eyes at him as you straighten the shirt you’re wearing, a shirt you stole from him and refused to give back.

“You love me!” Taehyung smiles as he drops himself on the couch, throwing his feet onto the coffee table. You scrunch your face but sigh as you plop down beside him, grabbing the remote for your TV.

“I beg to differ,” you mumble as you turn the TV on before putting Netflix on. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“Rude much,” Taehyung teases, but you elbow him in response. “Jungkook canceled, and I wasn’t really in the mood to be shoved and grabbed at the club.”

“What about your seven-day streak?” You raise your brow at him, but he shrugs.

“Nobody but me will know.”

“Jungkook’s affecting you this much, huh?”

“He’s my best friend,” Taehyung pouts, looking at his phone with sadness.

“What am I? Chopped liver?”

“You’re my girl best friend. It’s different,” he replies as he twiddles his thumbs in his lap. You cross one leg under the other before turning to face him.

“Talk to him, Tae. I’m sure he doesn’t realize how much time he’s spending with her. Or is it because you still have a crush on her?” You bite your lip awaiting his answer, knowing he may say yes and break your heart all over again.

“I don’t like her like that...not anymore. We just fooled around a few times after the threesome. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Does Jungkook hold that against you?”

“No, we talked about it. It’s just, he’s with her all the time and I never see him anymore,” Taehyung places his head on your chest, curling into a ball in your lap. You wrap your arms around him, comforting him.

“Let’s go to bed. I can’t get comfortable on the couch,” you suggest and he quietly agrees with a nod of his head.

You lead him to your bedroom by his hand, pulling the covers back before turning to him.

“Can I?” you ask as you step in front of him. He nods as you begin taking his shirt off. He raises his arms to aid you. You then run your hands over his bare torso before grabbing his belt and undoing it before unbuttoning his pants. Taehyung watches on with hooded eyes, his breath shaky as he kicks off his pants.

This wasn’t new to either of you, used to seeing each other half-naked often and even fully naked on certain occasions.

“Get into bed,” you tell him as you move back the covers for him to get on. You get in after him, grabbing the remote off your nightstand and putting on a movie from Hulu.

“Thank you for letting me come over,” Taehyung murmurs as he turns on his side to face you, one hand under his pillow and the other above.

“You don’t have to thank me, Tae. I’d rather have you here than out getting drunk,” you respond as you snuggle into your blankets.

“I don’t go out as often,” Taehyung mumbles as he pulls you close to him, your leg wrapping around his hip.

“I know, but I can’t help worrying about you. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, Tae. I’d miss your goofy ass too much,” you tease with a smile that he returns.

“You’re not gonna lose me, babe. I promise,” Taehyung sticks his pinkie finger out for you to take.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he repeats as he kisses your cheek. “You’re too special to me, I don’t want to lose you either.”

You know he means it as a friend, but your heart races regardless as you nod, looking away from him. You fight the urge to confess to him, knowing it wouldn’t lead anywhere except to a broken heart. You were naïve to think he could ever see you as more than a friend, not when the only one who had ever come close to tying him down was Jungkook’s girlfriend.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks as he rubs your hip gently, your eyes meeting his as you feign a smile.

“Of course,” you reply as you allow him to place his head on your chest, snuggled right between your breasts as your fingers run through his soft hair.

“You’re so soft, y/n,” Taehyung moans airily as his hand moves under your shirt, resting on your waist.

“Tae,” you whisper in response, his nose nuzzling into your shirt.

“Not doing anything, just need to hold you,” he murmurs as he moves back to look you in the eyes. You nod, your gaze shifting to his lips then back to his eyes.

You bite your bottom lip, yearning to kiss him. Taehyung takes notice, his eyes fixated on your lips as your tongue sweeps across your bottom lip. He notices the blush on your cheeks, the slight change in your breathing and the quickening of your heart.

His large hand cups your cheek, feeling the warmth of your flushed skin, a smile on his lips as he leans forward, his lips capturing yours. You kiss him after a moment's hesitation, Taehyung noticing as he breaks the kiss.

“I-I didn’t come to fuck if that’s what you think. I just- I needed to be with you. I don’t want you to think lowly of me.” Taehyung looks away, unable to meet your gaze as he wonders what you think of him? Do you see him as a genuine friend or do you think he’s nothing more than a fuckboy? He hopes you see him as your friend first and foremost. Your opinion is the only one he truly cares about aside from Jungkook’s, he values it. He’s not sure how everything changed that night the two of you first slept together in the summer before college.

You had been sitting on your roof in your hometown, overlooking the night sky as the moon shone brightly high above. Taehyung had found you, tears rolling down your cheeks as you wiped them away, sniffling in hopes he hadn’t heard you crying.

“I know you’re crying, y/n. I heard you the moment I stepped into your room, you don’t have to hide it from me.” You remained silent as he sat down beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you close, your hips touching.

“I’m not crying,” you had protested, your voice slightly hoarse as you wiped the tear streaks off your face before turning to him, his brown eyes displaying their concern.

“What’s going on? Talk to me,” Taehyung held your hand in his, rubbing the back of your hand as he waited patiently for you to speak.

“What if I flunk out of college? Or what if you and I drift apart?” You look up from your hands to see Taehyung nibbling on his bottom lip, his brow furrowed as his lips turn into a frown.

“I wish I could say that won’t happen, but I don’t want to give you false hope, y/n. I can assure you I’ll do my best to make sure you and I remain friends.”

“I’m scared,” you admit with a sigh as you place your head on his shoulder. A shiver runs down your spine from nervousness about being so close to him, Taehyung however, mistakes it for coldness.

“Let’s get you inside, babe,” you allow him to help you up, leading you to your bedroom where he sits you on your bed. You eye him with a puzzled look on your face as he sits beside you, helping you take your shoes off before he pulls the comforter back to allow you to get into your bed.

"Will you stay?" You whisper as you pull the blanket over your chest, your soft gaze making Taehyung's heart clench, knowing he can't say no to you, not when you look at him like that. With a forced smile, Taehyung agrees to stay as he kicks his shoes off before pulling the blanket off your chest so he can scoot in. Taehyung opened his arms for you to snuggle in. Nothing new for the two of you through your decade long friendship.

He grew nervous as you cuddled into his chest; he wondered if you could hear how fast his heart was beating. Taehyung wasn't sure when his feelings toward you changed from platonic to romantic, but it was killing him inside to be near you like this and not be able to kiss you. Would you ever be able to see it in that light? Or was he deemed to remain at your side as your friend and nothing more? He didn't care if his love was unrequited, so as long as you remained at his side as a friend, he could bear the burden as long as you were happy. It crushed him to see you like this, scared and apprehensive over what was supposed to be an exciting new chapter in both your lives.

"Will you sing to me, Taetae?" The nickname has him swallowing thickly, warmth spreading on his cheeks as he softly begins singing your favorite song as you lace your fingers together. You wonder how many more nights you'd have like these or if this could be the last. The thought sours your mood, a frown appearing on your lips as you look up at him. Taehyung raises his brow in question as you watch the way his lips move perfectly, you cease his singing by leaning in closer.

Taehyung's eyes widen as he looks at you for a second before your lips connect. He becomes stoic, frozen in place, before his eyes flutter shut as he begins to kiss you back, his hands cupping your face.

You're surprised he hasn't pushed you away, loving every moment of his soft, pink lips on yours. Your hands become laced in his dark locks, holding him close as you move to clamber onto his lap. Taehyung breaks the kiss, cursing as you roll your hips before your lips meet once again, his hands gripping your waist as his tongue pressed against the seam of your lips.

Your lips part for him, his tongue caressing yours as his hands slide beneath your shirt, stroking your sides as you grind down on him, not wanting this to end.

"Babe," Taehyung’s deep voice laced with lust, his pupils blown wide as he looks at you. "Is this okay?"

You nod, licking your lips, tasting him, "yes."

Taehyung gulps, nodding as he pulls you into another kiss, his heart racing in his chest as you remove your shirt. His inexperienced hands linger on the clasps of your bra before you reach back and undo it with one hand, tossing it to the floor. Taehyung looks down at your tits, licking his lips as his hands cup them, rolling the nipples between his fingers to make you moan softly.

You love feeling his hands on you, pleasuring you as his lips leave kisses and marks on your neck. You moan his name, your hands gripping his hair tightly as his tongue flicks your erect nipple.

"Tae," you cry out, your body arching into his as his hands pull you closer, his dark eyes meeting yours. You can feel his erection straining in his pants, aching to be released. Your hand moves down his body, cupping his erection. A saccharine moan escapes him, his hips rising to meet your downward motions.

Your hands move to unbutton his pants, his lips seeking yours as you pull down the zipper, finally freeing him. He grunts at the feel of your warm hand wrapping around his throbbing cock, pre-cum beading at the head.

Taehyung noticed your slight hesitation, his hands cupping your cheeks as he looks at you endearingly. “Have you done this before, baby?”

You shake your head, “no.”

Taehyung loves the blush that blooms on your cheeks as you look away, your hand still wrapped around his cock. He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead that makes you giggle.

“We can stop,” he assures you as he wraps his large hand around your wrist.

Frantically, you shake your head, “please, Tae. I want to.”

He looks into your eyes, searching for a minuscule amount of hesitance, but sees none. He sighs in admonishment, giving in as he guides your hand while he places open mouth kisses on your neck, his tongue licking every mark he leaves. You can feel your arousal soaking your panties, they stick to you unpleasantly, but Taehyung's thick cock in your hand is more than enough of a distraction.

You finally take a good look at his cock, your mouth watering at the sight of it, thick, long and rock hard. You lick your lips, wondering if he’d let you taste it as he continues to guide you in stroking him.

“Tae?” Your voice strained, making him pause his lips on the flesh he was leaving his mark near your collarbone.

“Yes, love?”

“Can I taste it?” You manage to say, forcing yourself to make eye contact with him, smiling at the shocked look on his face before he composes himself.

“You want to suck my cock, babe? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours?”

“Yes, please,” you answer him, your eyes twinkling with excitement; how could he refuse you?

Taehyung smirks, adjusting himself further on the bed, his legs spread for you to kneel between them. You run your hands over his thighs, wondering when he’d gotten so fit. Taehyung blushes as you admire the work he’s put into his body this summer, your gaze meeting as you become breathless from seeing him propped up on your pillows, completely naked, stroking his cock. Your pussy clenches around nothing, wishing more than anything to have him buried inside you, fucking you until you came around him.

You sit up a bit, pulling your sleep shorts down your thighs to expose your purple panties before you replace his hand with yours. Taehyung groans at the sight of you in just panties, kneeled in front of him with your hand wrapped around his dick, mere inches away from your lips.

Taehyung’s breath hitches in his throat, swallowing thickly as you lick your lips before moving forward, your tongue sticking out to flick the tip.

Taehyung moans softly, the warmth of your breath sending tingles down his spine as you look up at him, seeking his approval as you begin to kitten lick the head.

“That’s it, babe. Keep going,” he encourages you as you push your hair back behind your ears and move in closer, one hand stroking his cock while your lips wrap around him securely, your tongue circling the head. Taehyung moans your name, telling you to open up wider and spit on his cock. You do so, allowing him to tell you what to do as his hand grips your hair to pull into a mock ponytail, a few strands framing your face.

Taehyung thinks you look beautiful, the slight flush on your cheeks making you look radiant as you tentatively take more of his cock in your mouth. He whispers sweet praises at you, his hand caressing your cheek as you suckle the head, your tongue licking at his slit, making his thighs clench as he throws his head back as a guttural moan escapes him. He lets your hair go, taking a second to revel in the pleasure before his fingers lace in your hair as he tells you to bob your head up and down his length.

“So good, baby. Your mouth feels amazing wrapped around my cock,” Taehyung grunts, fighting the urge to sink his cock down your throat as you gag and pull back, saliva smeared across your lips and cheeks.

“Stick your tongue out for me, love.”

You open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out as far as it will go, watching as Taehyung grips his spit covered cock, stroking languidly before he smacks it on your tongue a few times, his hand pulling you closer to put his cock back in your mouth. You moan, your thighs pressing together, searching for any minuscule amount of relief as your eyes flutter shut. You breathe through your nose, grabbing onto Taehyung’s hips before taking him as far as you can before you gag once again, saliva escaping your lips to roll down his cock as you pull back with tear-filled eyes.

“Don’t hurt yourself, y/n. Everything you’re doing feels good, you don’t need to choke on it for me,” Taehyung smiles, his thumbs wiping away saliva from your lips before kissing you.

“Taehyung,” his name rolls off your tongue in a salacious moan that has his cock throbbing in response, his hands moving from your tits down to your hips as he flips you over with a squeal of surprise. You look up at him, biting your bottom lip as he slots himself between your thighs, grinding into your wet panties before his lips meet yours once again. Your hands wrap around his neck, drawing him closer as you play with the ends of his hair; his hand tugging at your panties as he breaks the kiss to move down your body, marking every bit of skin he can.

You gaze at him intently, arousal pooling in your abdomen as he looks up at you from between your thighs, his obsidian eyes filled with lust.

“Can I take these off, babe?”

“Yes, please,” you answer in a soft tone that has him kissing your hip as he pulls your panties down your thighs, biting how your arousal clings to the cotton.

“Fuck, look at you,” Taehyung practically growls as he admires the way you glisten with arousal, licking his lips as his index fingers parts your lips as his other hand grips your thigh, pinning it to the bed to keep you from shutting them.

He’s too distracted by your wet cunt, he doesn’t see you’re flustered with a pillow over your face until a minute later.

“Don’t hide from me, y/n.” You feel him move the pillow off your face to toss to the other end of the bed, far out of your reach. “You’re so beautiful, y/n. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

Your eyes meet his, your throat feels tight as you blink back tears. Does he mean it?

“We can stop right now, we can end this and pretend it never happened,” Taehyung whispers, his hand caressing your face, his thumb running over your kiss-swollen lips.

“No, Tae. I don’t want to stop, please don’t stop,” you plead as you spread your legs further, your hand on his as you draw him down to your lips, his fingers pushing into you gently, immediately saturated with your arousal.

“Fuck, baby girl,” Taehyung groans as he buries his face in your neck, his fingers slowly pushing in deeper, curling inside you as he sucks on the column of your throat. Your hands run down his smooth, honey skin, your nails leaving marks in their wake as he grunts into your skin. You feel remarkably wrapped around his fingers, his cock throbbing at the thought of filling you to the brim. Your essence coating every delectable inch of his dick, making you moan and cum whilst he’s balls deep inside you.

“I want you,” Taehyung admits, his lips kissing down to your chest, his teeth tugging at an erect nipple while his thumb rubs rigid circles on your clit. Your thighs quiver, your hips buck off the bed as you moan his name repeatedly. Your heart slams against your chest, your hands grip the sheets as Taehyung moves his head between your thighs.

With a salacious smirk, Taehyung licks at your slit, his hands gripping your thighs so hard they almost hurt, but you’re feeling too euphoric to care, all you know is that you want more.

“More, Tae.” your whiny tone has him smiling, diving back in, his lips wrapping around your clit while his fingers push back into you. You moan, your hand tangling in his hair to pull him closer, your legs placed on his shoulders as you ground your hips on his face. Taehyung looks up at you, moaning when he sees the look of pure pleasure on your face, every one of your moans going straight to his cock.

Taehyung can’t get enough of you. His tongue coated in your arousal as you writhe beneath him, crying out his name as loud as you can, your thighs quivering as you feel yourself growing closer to your orgasm.

“Relax, baby. I've got you, don’t be scared to cum on my face.” his words have you cursing, begging him to get back to eating you out, which causes him to chuckle as he does so. His breath hits your skin, your body arching into him as he spreads your lips to give you a good, long lick. You shudder, your body burning with lust as he suckles on your clit, his fingers curling inside you as your breathing grows erratic. Taehyung can feel you on the edge, his tongue swirling around your clit, teasing it until you feel yourself finally let go. Moans fill your bedroom as you orgasm on your best friend’s tongue, your body covered in a sheen of sweat as he helps you ride it out. Your hand pushes at his shoulder, making him giggle as he sits up, licking his lips.

“You taste amazing, baby. Fuck, that was hot as fuck.” he grins, his eyes softer now. He leans down to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself when his tongue meets yours, his cock flush against your hip.

“Taehyung,” You want him, desperately, your cunt clenching at the thought of him fucking you. His cock feels so hot and heavy on your hip, your hand reaching down to grasp it, rubbing the head over your clit.

“Holy fuck,” you both groan, your eyes looking down at where his cock sits on your clit. Taehyung takes a hold of it, teasing you for a moment before he spreads you open. You’re so fucking creamy for him. A moan of your name slips from his swollen lips as he coats his cock with your wetness. His hooded eyes meet yours as he moves his hips back. “Do you want to?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure you want me to be your first?” He gulps, sweat beading on his forehead as he looks down at you. God, you looked gorgeous, and you didn’t even know it. He wondered if you could hear his heart hammering in his chest, giddiness filling his abdomen as the realization of losing his virginity to the girl he loved finally hit him. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, his cheeks blooming with a rose-tinted blush.

“More than anything. I trust you, Taetae. I want you, do you want me?” Your voice is soft, unsure as you stroke his cheek delicately. Taehyung turns his head, planting a feather-light kiss on your wrist, “nothing would make me happier, love.”

Your lips meet his, your arms wrapped around his neck as he slowly pushes into you. You groan, the stretch feeling different than you expected, but Taehyung kisses your lips, face, and neck to provide a distraction.

His voice is deep, airy as he tells you to let him know when you’re ready. You two continue to kiss, his hips slowly lowering into you bit by bit until you can fully take him. He pauses, his lips nipping at your neck as your legs wrap around his hips.

“How do you feel this good, y/n? So fucking good wrapped around my cock, baby. Fuck, your pussy is so tight,” Taehyung grunts, your lips capturing his as he slowly rests the waters once you buck your hips into his. He’s slow, gentle as he pulls out only to push back in, your moans spurring him on as he sets a steady pace. Your hands roam his torso, nails digging into his flesh as your mouths meet in sloppy kisses.

Never did you believe you would be beneath your best friend, spread open as he fucked you deliciously, moaning your name as he praised you for taking his cock so well. You never wanted this to end, never wanted to experience this feeling with anyone else.

“You take my dick so well, baby girl. Look at you, your hungry cunt just sucks me right in,” Taehyung licks his lips, his eyes glued to where your bodies meet as he thrusts in and out of you. Your hand finds its way to your clit, rubbing it in circles as you meet every one of his thrusts. You cry out his name, your body tingling as your thighs shake, your stomach clenching.

“Taehyung, Tae,” you curse, his lips coming to wrap around your breast as he suckles your nipple, biting it gently. You begin to lose yourself to the pleasure, White-hot fire thrumming through your veins as your toes curl, your back arching off the bed as you cry his name over and over. Taehyung hisses, feeling you tighten around him, trying to milk his cock. He begins fucking you harder, faster, your name rolling off his tongue in waves as arousal thrums through his veins. His thrusts become erratic, his breathing grows heavy as he becomes coated in sweat. You can’t take much more, your body pulling him close as you tilt your head back and shut your eyes as your orgasm hits.

Taehyung watches your face morph in pleasure, a guttural groan escaping him as he cums without warning. Spurt after spurt coats your velvety walls as your cunt milks his cock for all it’s worth. Taehyung grunts, giving you a few last thrusts before carefully pulling out of you.

You’re spent, Taehyung, lying beside you as he tries to catch his breath, his arm draped over his eyes.

“Fuck, Tae,” you breathe as you wipe the sweat off your brow, overtly aware of his cum dribbling out of your cunt.

“Shit! I should have pulled out, y/n!” Taehyung panics as he sits up, looking between your thighs to see the mess he’s made.

“Taehyung, relax. I can go get the pill tomorrow,” you assure him but he looks hesitant.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to go with you?” He asks as he looks at your face instead of your legs.

“I’m sure,” you say as you lay back, your hand wandering between your thighs as you dip your fingers into your cum soaked cunt.

“Wh-what are you doi-doing?” Taehyung stutters, his eyes as wide as golf balls.

“Just playing with my pussy. Your cum feels so good inside me, Tae. Who knows when you’ll fill me again.” you moan at the last word, ignoring the sensitivity of your clit as you rub his cum on it.

“Oh fuck, Tae,” you moan, your left hand cupping your breast as you roll your hips, your eyes fluttering shut as pleasure overwhelms you. Taehyung watches you, his cock twitching back to life as he gulps when you smear more of his cum on your cunt before bringing your fingers to your lips to suck them clean.

Taehyung feels his cock throb again. He wraps his hand around it as he keeps his eyes on you, each of your lewd moans bringing him closer to the edge.

You open your eyes, meeting his gaze as you moan for him, your lips parting as you tilt back. You shudder, another orgasm wracking your body as Taehyung cums all over his hand just as you cry out his name.

You lay boneless, your thighs shutting on your hand, trapping it in its cum soaked prison. Taehyung can’t speak, doesn’t have the energy to do so as you smile weakly, thanking him.

Taehyung nods in acknowledgment, moving closer to you to release your hand from your thighs. He pulled the blanket over you as he cuddles you, kissing your forehead over and over again.

The next morning when you wake up, he’s nowhere to be seen, and that’s when you realize it meant nothing to him.

“That’s fine, Taehyung. You know we’re capable of being friends, even if we fuck around now and then. I’m not going to jump you every time you come around,” you roll your eyes as you roll over, giving him your back. Taehyung groans internally. He didn’t want you mad at him, it terrified him.

The two of you didn’t talk for weeks after sleeping together, it was a misunderstanding, but that was the closest Taehyung had ever come to losing you; he didn’t want to go through that again.

“Y/n,” he sighs as he says your name, but you ignore him as you pull the blanket over your head, stilling when you feel him drape his arm around your waist.

“Please talk to me, babe.” You can hear the pout in his voice and you nearly give in but then he opens his mouth once again. “I’ve already lost Jungkook, I can’t lose you too.”

“Go to Jimin then,” you scoff as you pull his arm off your waist, pulling the covers off of you before storming to your bathroom, slamming the door and locking it after you. Taehyung groans, rubbing his face with his hands. This was not how he wanted to spend his night.

Taehyung climbs out of bed to walk to your bathroom, knocking on the door.

“Go away!”

“Baby, don’t be like this,” Taehyung runs his hand through his hair before leaning against the wall beside the bathroom door, crossing his ankles.

“Go with Jungkook! Tell him you love his girlfriend and get out!” You shout back in anger, and Taehyung scowls.

“I don’t love his girlfriend! I’ve only ever loved one girl and it sure as hell wasn't Jungkook’s girl.”

This catches your attention, Taehyung has been in love?

At your silence, Taehyung curses, “fuck, forget it, Y/n. I’m sorry I bothered you, I’m going home.”

You remain silent, hearing Taehyung get dressed and leave your apartment as you slink down the wall, wrapping your arms around your knees. You didn’t want to fight with Taehyung, not over Jungkook and his girlfriend. You were just hurt that he only ever came to you when he wanted to talk about Jungkook. Well, at least the past few times.

You still felt insulted that he thought you’d jump on him when you knew he was upset. You weren’t the type to do that, and he knew that. You shouldn’t even be sleeping with him still, but if this was the only way you could have him, you would continue to do so. You knew all about his conquests, some even confronted you once they found out you were his friend. You had grown tired of girls coming up to the two of you to tell you they were sleeping with your boyfriend. You’d roll your eyes and inform them that Taehyung was not your boyfriend before walking away.

You had cut him off after getting into a fight, something he still felt guilty about. You had only recently (in the past 3 months) began sleeping with him off and on in between partners. Your friends all gave you pitying looks when they’d see him making out with different girls on campus and they all loathed him but none more than Myra.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt tears drip off your lips, your hand wiping them away as you got off the floor. You unlocked the bathroom door before walking out to curl up in your bed alone. Why couldn’t you just tell Taehyung how you felt?

“Hey y/n!” You groan at the sound of your name as you continue to walk with your backpack strap clenched in one hand and your coffee in the other.

“Wait up!” You sigh, rolling your eyes, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to outrun this nuisance.

“Yes, Jungkook?” You ask, he doesn’t miss the irritation in your tone, but it’s no surprise to him in the least.

“Have you heard from Tae? I’ve been trying to reach him for days but no luck,” Jungkook looks genuinely despondent but you shrug.

“Nope, but I’m surprised you noticed he’s not been around. You know, with your head so far up your girlfriend’s ass that you keep ignoring Tae.”

“Whoa! Whoa! What’s your deal, y/n?” Jungkook’s thrown back by your words, a scowl on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, defensive.

“I’m done talking to you.” you walk off but Jungkook follows you, his combat boots stomping along the sidewalk.

“I haven’t been ignoring him,” Jungkook says as he walks beside you but you continue to look forward as you walk to your apartment.

“Go away, Jeon!”

“If anyone is ignoring him, it’s you! You’re the one who didn’t talk to him for weeks in freshman year. I was the one who was there for him.”

“Fuck off, Jeon! You don’t know anything about that,” you grit through your teeth. Jungkook stands in front of you, blocking your way.

“Move!”

“Make me!” Jungkook goads you, making you angrier as you go to step around him. He moves to get in your way again and you huff in frustration.

“What’s going on?” You use the distraction of Taehyung appearing to step around Jungkook before sprinting toward your apartment to avoid both men.

You don’t hear from Taehyung for a few more days, not until Saturday night when you’re home alone soaking in your tub.

You were used to not seeing Taehyung often, especially when you were in a fight. Your heart still aches for him, but you figured maybe this would be the push you need to get over him. You laughed, yeah right.

You relax, sinking further into your tub as you listen to your relaxing playlist, your eyes shut as you try to clear your thoughts, not wanting to have your mood ruined by your best friend turned fuck buddy.

A knock on your door startles you, but you hope if you ignore it, whoever it is will go away. You stay in your tub, unmoving, as the person continues to knock before finally giving up. You’re not sure who would even bother coming over after eleven at night, but you hope they don’t come back as you close your eyes again.

“Y/n, are you home?” Your eyes open once again as Taehyung’s voice fills your apartment, you mentally curse yourself for giving him a key to your place, albeit you had stressed it was for emergencies only.

“What do you want? I’m busy!” You shout as you try to ignore his heavy footsteps making their way toward you.

“Are you touching yourself? Because I’ve seen you do it before,” Taehyung calls out, making you scoff.

“What do you want, Tae? If you couldn’t tell by me ignoring your messages, I don’t wanna see you.”

“Tough ‘cause I want to see you,” he says as he opens the bathroom door, he sits on the closed lid of the toilet and blatantly stares at you. You’re thankful for the bubbles that shield your naked body from sight.

“What for?”

“Jungkook and I talked everything out.”

“Yippee,” you remark sarcastically as you play with the bubbles in the tub, avoiding Taehyung’s penetrating gaze.

“Gee, thanks,” he scoffs, as he rolls his eyes at you.

“You’re the one who came uninvited.” you shrug as you move forward to pull the plug from the tub, tugging the shower curtain to shield you as you turn the shower on to rinse your body from any lingering bubble bath. Taehyung waits patiently, handing you your towel when you ask for it before you carefully step out of the tub.

You head to your bedroom, drying your body completely before grabbing a shirt from your dresser drawer. Taehyung sits on your bed, his eyes fixated on the floor as you change.

“Look, I’m sorry Jungkook bothered you that day. I had been ignoring him while trying to get a hold of you and it wasn’t my intention for you to get caught in the middle of all this,” Taehyung sighed heavily as he plays with a loose thread on your bedsheets.

“I’m glad you worked it out, I guess.” you climb into your bed, curling away from him as you turn the TV on with your remote, blatantly ignoring Taehyung’s presence beside you. “Did you tell him you’re in love with his girlfriend?”

Taehyung groans, running his hand through his hair as he lies beside you, turned on his side to face you. The scowl on his face doesn’t phase you as he holds your gaze, you refuse to blink and submit to him.

“I told you I’m not in love with her, Y/n. Yeah, I had a crush on her for a bit but that’s just because Jungkook had her and I wanted her. We’re cool now, I never loved her. You know I’ve only loved one girl,” Taehyung pouts, his chin resting in his hand.

“No, I don’t know because you never told me who it was,” you protest, but Taehyung smiles cheekily as he lies on his back, his arms crossed underneath his head as he stares up at your bedroom ceiling.

“It’s a secret, babe. I can’t tell you who it is,” Taehyung teases with a deep exhale as you nod and turn your attention to the TV.

If only you knew that he was talking about you. Could you hear the hammering of his heart in his chest as he lay beside you, acting nonchalant as his hands grew clammy and his throat felt like he’d swallowed sandpaper?

“I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other?” you raise a brow at him, eyeing him suspiciously before you feel him scoot closer, but not enough to touch you.

“We don’t, but this one is special,” he whispers as he looks at the space between you before his eyes meet yours.

“Are you ever tell me who it is?”

Taehyung feels queasy suddenly, a pink blush settling on the apples of his cheeks. He swallows thickly, his bashful smile making your heart thud rapidly against your chest.

“Maybe someday.”

It takes a few days for you and Taehyung to slowly go back to normal. He makes more time to spend with you while balancing Jungkook and the rest of his friends as well. You refuse to join them on their nights out on the town, refusing to see Taehyung pick up someone.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Taehyung asks as he plops down on your couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table as you sit down beside him.

“I thought you were going out with Jimin and Hoseok?” you ask as you push his feet off your coffee table, glaring at him as he throws his feet over your lap instead.

“Nah, I didn’t feel like going out tonight.”

“How come? You love going out with Jimin and Hoseok,” you scroll through your phone, not looking at Taehyung but still able to hear him.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot about stuff lately, you know? Maybe Jungkook had it right?”

“What do you mean, Tae?” your brows become furrowed as you spare him a glance before turning your body to face him.

“Just, you know, the whole girlfriend thing,” you giggle, surprised he was able to say the word without gagging for once.

“What’s this? Little Taetae is ready for commitment.” You feign a gasp, your hands on your cheeks as you gape at him with wide eyes, earning yourself a glare and his middle finger.

“I can commit,” he protests, crossing his arms over his chest as he feels his ears start to turn red.

After a beat of silence, he mutters, “and I’m not little either.”

“Is my Taetae in love?” you tease, as you try to hide your emotions behind a wide grin.

“Maybe.” Taehyung’s serious tone shocks you, your mouth falling open as you gape at him.

You whistle, “Wow, really?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, princess.” Taehyung scoffs, mildly offended.

“Sorry, sorry,” you utter an apology as you shift in your seat, clearly uncomfortable as you feel a knot form in your throat as tears well up in your eyes.

Taehyung notices you shifting, your hands tugging on the oversized sweater you’re wearing until you get “sweater paws” as Jimin likes to call them. He realizes you’re wearing one of the sweaters he’d given to you a while back, you’d wash it and then make him wear it until it smelled like him again. His heart melted at that.

He took notice of you biting your bottom lip, worrying it between your teeth as you played with the sleeves of your sweater, an action you did when you were nervous. Taehyung studied you, noting your body language was clearly stating the obvious, you were growing anxious and more upset as time ticked by.

“A-are you going to tell her?” you stutter, cursing yourself out in your head as you force yourself to make eye contact with your best friend, the boy you’ve loved since high school. This was it, this was the moment you would lose him for good, and yet, you still couldn’t form a sentence; not a word.

“Yes, tomorrow morning.” he clears his throat as he runs his sweaty hands over the denim of his pants to dry them, sinking further into his seat as his stomach churns with nerves.

“I hope it goes well, Taetae. You deserve happiness in your life.” your voice was weak, barely audible as you recoiled into yourself, hugging your knees to your chest as you feigned great interest in your phone.

Taehyung felt awful; he knew he should just tell you right now, but he didn’t think he’d be able to muster up the courage. He wanted to stall, but he’d been stalling for years and he didn’t want to lose you now, not when he finally realized how much you meant to him.

“I’m going to bed,” you murmur as you rise from your seat, stretching your arms over your head, not caring that your sweater is rising. Taehyung gulps, his eyes fixated on your thighs, his eyes roaming upward as he glimpses your favorite panties.

Taehyung finds it hard to breathe, his mouth running dry as he tears his eyes away from your panty-clad cunt to look at your feet that are covered in pink fuzzy socks. He chuckles, knowing you love being barefoot but your feet are always cold even with socks on.

“Stop making fun of my socks,” you pout. Taehyung grins as he stands from his seat, his hands cupping your face. You melt into his touch automatically, your eyes meeting his as you exhale shakily.

Taehyung’s thumb glides over your bottom lip, eyes focused on it before they meet your soft gaze. His heart flutters in his chest, a smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re beautiful,” you blink owlishly, the compliment making you feel a sudden rush of happiness stemming from your abdomen.

“I know I haven’t been saying it lately, but you’re gorgeous, princess. You always have been. You do things to me I never imagined were possible and I’m a fool to not have told you sooner.” Taehyung’s tone is soft, airy as his finger traces your features, your eyes shut as you feel his delicate touch.

“Do you mean it?”

“Of course I mean it,” he whispers in reply, your eyes opening to meet his sincere gaze. “You’re the only one for me, baby.” “Then why did you leave me that night?” you finally ask the question you’ve been wanting to know the answer to for years. Taehyung’s eyes widen in surprise, his mouth releasing a soft gasp. He swallows thickly, his large hand running through his hair as he inhales sharply.

“I was scared, love. I thought you’d regret losing your virginity to me, especially with college so close. I thought you’d find someone better and leave me, so I left before you could. It was stupid, I was stupid.”

You nod in agreement with his words.

“Then I met Jungkook,” Taehyung continues, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. His eyes stare at the wall instead of glancing at you. Lost in thought. “It became easier to sleep with other people than to tell you how I feel. I was an idiot. I hurt you for no reason other than to spare myself the heartbreak, but I didn’t realize by sparing myself, I was hurting you. I’m truly sorry, y/n. I never meant to hurt you, and I promise I never will again. I swear. Will you forgive me?

“I forgive you, Tae.” you ignore the tears that pool in your eyes, smiling softly. Relief washing over Taehyung as he brings your hand to his lips, kissing it.

Not another word is said as he holds you close, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips and back again. You nod ever so gently. Taehyung’s lips brush against yours, your fingers lacing in his hair as your eyes flutter shut, kissing him back.

And as you lose yourself in the kiss, the last thought in your head is; you’re the only one for him.

thank you for reading! ♡ if you liked it, please let me know! 💌

<< Jungkook

© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.

#bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #btswritersnet #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader insert #taehyung x you #taehyung smut and angst #fuckboy taehyung #taehyung college!au #tae smut #jungkook fuckboy au #taehyung fuckboy au

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 9k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: medical play, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, multiple orgasms, fingering, dirty talk, bondage, ruined orgasm, unprotected sex, squirting, oral (m receiving), cum eating (not yoongi for once), this was meant to be a light palate cleanser after the intensity of day ten but i got lost in my feelings in the first half and then got horny over doctor jeon in the second half i apologise

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DAY ELEVEN

“I think you should be a little more concerned, PD.”

Sejin flattens the two men - oldest and youngest of the house - an unimpressed look. Jungkook tries not to wilt under his gaze. “And why is that?”

Jin clears his throat, staring right back unabashedly. “Tae’s been involved in a terrible accident and you’re just waiting here. You should be rushing over to the house to save him.”

“A terrible accident?” Sejin questions monotonously, before turning in his chair to angle his monitor so that both boys can see. On the screen is a freeze frame of a very familiar scene - Taehyung crouching on the bottom of the stairs, Jin and Jungkook huddled around him.

Ah, Jungkook realises with sinking disappointment, the cameras. Once the producer clicks play on the recording, Jungkook is faced with the HD version of himself gesture excitedly, patting Taehyung on the back and pointing to the banisters.

Cheeks flushing, the youngest member of the house watches in dread as Sejin plays back the evidence of Taehyung willingly forcing his head through two banisters, ears popping out the other side as he glances up with a beam at Jin.

Having seen enough, Sejin pauses the video, and switches back to the realtime feed. “An accident, was it?” Sejin repeats rhetorically as the Taehyung on the security camera drums his fingers lazily against the wood posts, letting out a lionlike yawn. “I’m not an idiot, you know.”

Jungkook bites down hard on his tongue. This wasn’t how things were meant to go at all. Behind Sejin’s desk, the majority of the production van is filled with all the mess of a regular office. Stacks of paper, scribbled sticky notes on various surfaces, a large whiteboard with roughly handwritten schedules and a small game of naughts and crosses in the bottom right corner. Jungkook tries not to let his eyes dwell on the whiteboard too long. Don’t raise anymore suspicion.

Beside him, Jin shamelessly shrugs with a smile. “He put his head through the bars on purpose, sure, but he got stuck on accident.” The oldest - though still younger than Sejin himself - emphasises this distinction with a single outstretched finger and an arch of his eyebrows. “So you should go help him.”

Sejin slips his glasses off and lets them clatter to the table, pinching his brow with two fingers. “Am I gonna get there and have Taehyung ask me for the latest issue of Chinese Vogue?”

Jin stiffens, his mask temporarily shattered. “I requested that in confidence.”

The production manager throws his hands in the air in defeat. “How was I supposed to know which of your bogus requests was confidential? Just half an hour ago I got a call from my superior asking why #getjinanXL was trending. You tweeted that you wanted me to buy you extra large condoms because you ‘ran out.’”

“Well, that was obviously a joke,” Jin rebuffs easily. “You know I use Magnum.”

“How would I-?” With a huff of desperation, Sejin shakes his head to clear his mind. “No, okay, back to…”

Zoning out, Jungkook’s eyes are caught by the sight on the screen as another figure walks out into the foyer. Yoongi rushes forward once he sees Taehyung, crouching on the other side of the bars as he delicately prods around Taehyung’s face and neck. The younger man waves him away in frustration, pushing at Yoongi’s chest until he gives up and leaves reluctantly. Jungkook bites his lip and looks away.

Whoops. Staring right at him are the producer and the therapist, each as expectant as the other. “Huh?”

Sejin huffs. “Why would Taehyung intentionally stick his head through the bars of a staircase banister?”

“Tell him, Jungkookie,” Jin adds with a bump of his shoulder.

“Uh…” With a hard swallow, Jungkook’s mind whirls. “He… We were… measuring,” he finishes awkwardly. “Me-measuring Tae’s head.”

“You were measuring Taehyung’s head?” Sejin repeats flatly. “With the stair banister?”

Jungkook shrugs with what he hopes is a ‘what can you do?’ expression, laughing nervously. “We couldn’t find a ruler.”

Sejin blinks once. “Then how would you know how wide the gap between posts was? Without a ruler?”

“Oh.” Jungkook stares in barely subdued panic at Jin, who widens his eyes meaningfully, urging him to turn back to the awaiting producer. “We, um, we didn’t think that far. We’ll know for next time?”

“If you want to stay on this show, there will be no next time,” Sejin warns.

Jungkook ducks his head in shame. “Sorry, dad.”

“Y- what?” Jungkook hears Sejin cough lightly, flustered. “Please, Jungkook, that’s not appropriate.”

The youngest gives a little bow. “I apologise, Father.”

Sejin clicks his tongue. “Okay, that’s even worse.”

Jungkook glances up, brows knitting and head tilting in confusion. “...whoopsies, daddy?”

Sejin buries his face in his hands, fingers tugging at the hairline. Jungkook spots several grey strands.

Clearing his throat, Jin steps forward slightly. “Taehyung is still stuck, PD.”

“Okay, fine! Fine,” Sejin announces, pushing his chair away from the desk and standing up. “But if there is a single other incident like this, I’m calling in child protective services and getting them to baby-proof this place. No more funny business. Understood?”

“No more. Promise,” Jungkook assures sweetly, heart soaring as Sejin slips past them, hurrying out of the production van and towards the front door of the villa.

The moment he’s well out of earshot, Jin claps his hands once with a victorious grin. “It was a bit touch-and-go there,” he admits, “but that’s bought us time. Quick; get the whiteboard, I’ll grab some pens.”

Jungkook grins. Like secret agents, hyung and him were. Moving quickly, the two of them manage to sneak out the whiteboard from the van, trundling it noisily across the gravel, around the back of the house.

---

“I’ll be honest,” Jimin drawls, “I don’t understand why we couldn’t have just chatted about this. Is the whiteboard really necessary?”

Taehyung deflates immediately, one hand still rubbing at the red marks on his jaw and ears. “What do you mean? I suffered for this whiteboard, Minnie.”

It’s crowded; five people huddled inside the confessional booth. But apart from the bathrooms and the rec room, this was the only place without live security cameras - purely because the only camera needed was the one for the confessionals themselves - and Jin and Jungkook doubted they’d be able to smuggle a very noisy whiteboard into the rec room when Sejin was directly outside it lubing up Taehyung’s neck with aloe vera gel.

While Producer Shin had been lured away by Jin with the promise of a homecooked meal, the four youngest men in the house were bundled into the garden shed, staring at a whiteboard that had barely fit through the door.

Jimin, still unconvinced, shrugs. From his spot perched delicately on Namjoon’s lap he watches the two younger men take a picture of what’s written on the whiteboard, then rub it all out. The man of the hour, Namjoon had been given the right to sit on the only proper chair in the room, the one the producer would normally sit in. Beside it, the wooden stool sits unoccupied. Jimin told the others that he was sitting on Namjoon’s lap because the stool was too uncomfortable, but Jungkook thinks there’s something deeper in the way he relaxes onto Namjoon’s chest, the academic alert but not tense underneath him.

Or perhaps being on this show has made Jungkook more suspicious.

“The whiteboard was vital, hyung,” he defends adamantly, grabbing one of the pens Jin-hyung had handed him, yanking off the cap with a satisfying click. Immediately the alcoholic smell of ink tingles his nostrils, but he ignores it, turning to the others. “What if Namjoon-hyung was a visual learner?”

From behind Jimin’s back, Namjoon adjusts the bridge of his glasses. “I- actually I learn best through listening.” His hand drops, hovers over the space both him and Jimin share, then rests awkwardly on the armchair. “But I appreciate the thought.”

Namjoon-hyung is so cute. “It’s okay,” Jungkook assures, suppressing the endeared grin that tugs at his lips, “We can brainstorm out loud, and Tae and I will just take notes.”

With Taehyung in his Sunday best (well, a button-up shirt so baggy it looked like he hat batwing sleeves) and Jungkook having dug out his glasses to look extra smart, the two of them were prepared to make this as academic as possible for Namjoon. Even after getting laid for the first time, academics were his comfort zone, and the two youngest were happy to oblige.

“First things first; what was it you had to do? Honeymoon?”

Jimin leans back on Namjoon’s shoulder so the taller man can see past. Namjoon shakes his head lightly, his purple hair in serious need of a touch-up; the natural brunette frames his face now, emphasising his brow. Jungkook wonders if he’d let him dye it a new colour, just for something fresh.

“Just husband and wife,” the academic corrects, “It didn’t specify, uh, anything else.” His voice is still quiet, as if speaking on it is taboo. One day he’ll get used to discussing sex openly, but until then, the others will meet him halfway.

“Okay, so, Y/n is your wife,” Jungkook states with a nod, “do y’all have kids? Is it a newlyweds situation? We need  backstory here.”

The squeaking of a pen catches Jungkook’s attention before he even finishes speaking. To his right, Taehyung writes in sharp strokes across the board.

Y/N PREGNANT

“It’s the nineteen thirties,” Taehyung announces in a smooth voice, eyes finding each member in the room, “war is imminent, and worldwide men are preparing to be conscripted. Every moment spent with their loved ones is precious, and for General Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung pauses to draw a gangly stick figure giving a salute, “him and his wife Y/n-” this time a female stick figure joins the scene, a cartoonishly round stomach off to one side, “-have only one goal. To knock Y/n up before he goes to battle, so that even if he never returns they ha-”

“Wait, wait!” Jimin cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed. “Isn’t this too dark? Too elaborate? They’re fucking, not going for best screenplay at the Oscars.”

Taehyung deflates a second time, the hand holding the pen dropping limply to his side. “You don’t like it?”

Face stricken, Jimin waves his hands frantically. “No, no, I love it! Honestly! I just- I feel like Namjoon probably wants something a little simpler? Perhaps not so bleak?” The blue-haired man swivels around on Namjoon’s lap, his hand resting inconspicuously on the back of his neck, playing with the longer hairs there.

Namjoon swallows. “Uh, yeah, simple is probably good. Honestly, I feel a little unsure about all of this. What if I, I don’t know, drop character or get shy? Won’t it be awkward?”

Taehyung scratches at his chin as he thinks, the beginnings of beard scruff shadowing his jaw. “If we help you brainstorm, you can just memorise a basic script.”

“I guess so,” Namjoon muses, eyes fluttering unconsciously as Jimin continues to trace the nape of his neck with his fingertips. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I know you have your own scenes to worry about.”

Jungkook shrugs. “Two birds with one stone, we can help each other. You know; I suck your dick, you suck mine.”

“That isn’t the quote,” Namjoon protests automatically, “but- I get your point. Anyone have any advice on how I even go about this?”

Taehyung pouts. “You’re the smart one,” he points out, “I did try to help but clearly my services weren’t appreciated.”

“Oh, honey,” Jimin coos, “I always appreciate your services.” The double entendre is clear in the silk of his voice and the arch of his brows, sent with a sweet smile, and Taehyung flushes in response.

Jungkook winces, ignoring the spike of - of something green and ugly in his chest. “Okay, enough from the lovebirds, this is about Namjoon. Joonie-hyung, I would just offer to help out and join with yours but I was gonna do mine this afternoon, and I don’t think a husband would fit very well into it.”

“That’s okay,” Namjoon assures, shifting under the weight of the man in his lap. His fingers flex on the arm of the chair behind Jimin’s back, unsure. “Taehyung? Yours might work, I guess.”

Unaware of Namjoon’s indecision, Jimin suddenly stands up off his lap entirely, stalking over to Taehyung with a bemused grin. “You think our well-trained Taehyungie could be the family dog?”

Taehyung, though keening under Jimin’s sudden attention, seems hesitant. “I- I don’t know, Minnie, I haven’t really…” He trails off helplessly, casting Namjoon an apologetic stare.

“It’s okay,” Namjoon rushes out, scooting forward to the edge of the armchair. “You don’t have to, I could just do it by myself.”

It’s strange, watching Jimin so visibly caught in indecision. He hovers in the centre of the small shed, torso towards Taehyung but head twisted back to stare at Namjoon. Wanting to support Namjoon, but wanting to protect Taehyung.

Jungkook feels like an outsider invading in on a precious equilibrium. Namjoon shifts, gaze dropping. Taehyung can’t keep his fingers still as they fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. Jimin’s so still the thin silver threads of his earrings don’t even shift in the air, but his eyes flood with emotion, bottom lip twitching just slightly as he seeks for something to say.

Jimin isn’t as mean as he’d like people to think, Jungkook muses. Saving the uncomfortable decision, Jungkook clears his throat awkwardly, diverting the attention of the other three. “We could always practice? Jimin, you’re pretty. Pretend to be Y/n and give Joon-hyung some tips.”

The effect of his words are instantaneous. Jimin perks up, turning on his heel to grin down at his elder, who gasps almost imperceptibly. Taehyung’s eyes dull with something akin to disappointment. At himself or at the situation, Jungkook can’t say, but the sight of him turning to the whiteboard and swirling sullen circles of ink on the glossy surface has Jungkook’s heart breaking.

Leaving the other two to talk - Jimin resting gracefully on one of the arms of the chair, his feet dangling between Namjoon’s - Jungkook hurries forward, wrapping his fingers around Tae’s to catch his attention.

“What’s up?” he asks softly, low enough to give the two some privacy.

Sucking on the inside of his cheek, Taehyung shrugs. “Nothing.”

Jungkook isn’t deterred by the shortness of his tone, but changes tacts nonetheless. “It’s a bit weird,” he offers up, “it’s like each of us is the wingman to the other guys, but we’re all going for the same girl.”

With Jungkook’s hand still on top, Taehyung begins to swipe the pen across the board again. This time, what looks like a flower with long, pointed petals takes shape in thick black lines. Taehyung himself stays focused for a few moments of silence, until he’s ready to speak.

“But it’s not just that,” he explains in a low timbre, “it’s not just her.”

Jungkook lets his hand be maneuvered by the deft movements of the masseuse. Every part of Taehyung was so elegant, like he’d been sculpted from marble. From those slender fingers, to the slope of his nose. Lashes that brushed against his brow bone as he focused, teeth pressing just slightly into his lip, a dusky pink. “No, it’s not,” Jungkook agrees after a moment.

Taehyung lets his hand fall, Jungkook’s slipping off. With eyes hidden behind dark curls, the elder sneaks a look at Jimin and Namjoon, the two smiling and laughing, Jimin’s fingers playing with the strap of the watch on the other’s wrist lazily.

“I never know who to be jealous of,” Taehyung admits with a weak chuckle, capping the pen. “Anyways; that doesn’t matter. We’re here to help Namjoon.”

Jungkook spares a glance at the lovebirds on the armchair. “I think he’s doing just fine.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung answers shortly, eyes locked on the way Jimin curls onto Namjoon’s shoulder, the two locked onto Namjoon’s phone as he types in notes. “He’ll do fine.” Letting out a deep sigh, Taehyung scrunches his eyes shut and shakes his head, like he’s clearing the funk away. “It doesn’t matter, we’re all in this together.”

Jungkook cocks his head. “But- Well, no, this is still a competition. Technically we should be against each other, not together.”

The air leaves Taehyung’s lungs in a rushed breath. “Fuck, you’re right. I should, like, hate you, right?”

Jungkook hums with a raised brow. “I guess.”

“I should be trying to cockblock you and tell Y/n you have syphilis, yet here I am wanting to suck the dicks of everyone in this room. But also maybe hold the hands of everyone in this room. You can imagine my confusion.”

Jungkook feels his stress slip away at the genuine smile that tugs at Taehyung’s lips. Even if his eyes are still muted with sorrow, he doesn’t seem so despairing over it. The youngest reaches out to grip onto Taehyung’s upper arm reassuringly. “We could have hate sex if it’d make you feel better?” he offers up in a soft voice.

The blue depths in Taehyung’s gaze recede a little more as his smile brightens. “I’d like that.”

The two manage to hold this Hallmark moment for a little longer before Taehyung’s shoulders begin to shake with suppressed laughter. In seconds, the two are dissolving into chuckles and snickers, Jungkook throwing his head back and Taehyung hunching over with the force of it.

Across from them, Namjoon and Jimin pause their excited conversation to stare at them in bewilderment.

“What did we miss?” Namjoon asks, brow knitted but eyes wide.

“Never mind,” Jungkook deflects, heart feeling strangely warm as Taehyung grins under his lashes at him, like the two of them have an inside joke. “We should probably pack up, though, unless we want Producer Shin coming back in the middle of our top secret team meeting.”

Jimin clicks his tongue in agreement and stands up off Namjoon’s lap. Lithe like a cat, his arms come up over his head and his back arches into a stretch, eyes fluttering shut. Jungkook knows his eyes aren’t the only pair watching the way his shirt lifts to display a band of pale golden skin.

“Alright,” the porn star lets out with a relaxed sigh, arms dropping and shirt falling again, “let’s head out, then. Joonie’s sorted.”

Namjoon stands up behind him, nodding shyly. “Thank you, guys. I feel a lot better about it now.”

Jungkook and Taehyung share a look. “To be fair,” Jungkook says with a light cough, “I don’t think Tae and I really helped at all.”

Jimin sends the two of them a broad smile, eyes crinkling in good humour. “You did provide the whiteboard,” he points out. “Though I imagine your efforts to steal it without Sejin realising were in vain.”

Taehyung frowns, hand automatically lifting to rub at his jaw. “What do you mean?”

“There aren’t any cameras in here,” Jungkook offers to Jimin, “he wouldn’t have seen it!”

Jimin blinks. “Where do you think Sejin went after helping Tae out of the staircase?”

Jungkook feels the odd pressure of dawning realisation that hasn’t quite materialised. “His office,” he answers slowly, “why?”

Behind Jimin, Namjoon ducks out with a sympathetic smile. “He probably noticed the giant whiteboard missing, Jungkookie.”

The camboy opens his mouth, waits for words to come, and closes it again. “Mm,” he replies eloquently.

“Oh, we’re gonna get in big trouble, huh?” Taehyung mumbles, fiddling with the pen in his hands.

“Wait,” Namjoon offers, “I’ll tell him it was me.”

Jungkook frowns. “How does that help?”

“Sejin won’t get mad at me, he loves me. I’ll just tell him I was getting a head start on my work for next semester.”

“When did he tell you he loved you?” Jungkook asks with a pout. “He never says it back to me.”

“I didn’t- What?” Namjoon frowns. “I was just chatting to him for advice one night and he told me I remind him of his son.”

“He doesn’t have any kids,” Jimin says with a lilt of confusion.

“I think he was talking about his cat,” Namjoon admits with a pained look, “but he loves his cat, so he must love me. Anyways, I’ll tell him I was using it for study and I don’t think he’ll mind. Just clear off the board and one of you can help me wheel it back.”

Jungkook sighs a breath of relief, turning back to the board. Beside it, Taehyung is frozen with his head bent and his mouth dropped open, staring at the pen. Neither Jin nor him thought to bring a duster, so Jungkook balls up his sleeve in his palm and wipes off the-

And wipes off the-

“Why isn’t it coming off?” Jungkook asks frantically, scrubbing over the shiny lines of black. “It’s not even smudging!”

“Um, Jungkookie,” Taehyung utters lowly, curls shifting as he slowly looks up. “This is a permanent marker.”

Jungkook’s hand freezes. He steps back, eyes wide as they stare at the image drawn in thick black.

The blooming form of what looked like a lily on the bottom corner, that was fine, but the giant all-caps Y/N PREGNANT followed by a very evocative drawing of a heavily pregnant woman beside a patriotic Namjoon was going to be harder to explain.

Slowly, Jungkook swivels on his heel, coming face-to-face with Namjoon, whose eyes are almost open wider than his mouth. “Hey, hyung,” the youngest offers up with a tentative smile, “how much d’you reckon Sejin loves that cat?”

--

It’s late afternoon by the time Jungkook has done his penance with the whiteboard and Sejin himself, but luckily it means that Yoongi is definitely in his room when Jungkook goes knocking.

More content with his own company, the second oldest tended to retire to his bedroom early to “entertain” himself. Jungkook had assumed this was a euphemism for masturbating, but Taehyung had informed him that the doctor was making his way through an impressive collection of the Slam Dunk manga these days.

As expected, Yoongi opens the door to Jungkook on his third knock, ushering him in with a look of confusion.

“Hyung,” Jungkook begins in an entreating tone, “you have a first aid kid in your room, don’t you?”

Yoongi’s eyes widen, back straightening in alarm. “Is someone hurt?”

“No, no, it’s sex reasons,” Jungkook explains quickly, eyes wandering around the room, eying up the open closet in the back of his room. “Do you have a white coat?”

“I- what? No, I don’t have a white coat,” Yoongi stutters out, face scrunched up in confusion. “What is this about?”

Jungkook hums, brushing back hair out of his face absentmindedly as he delves deeper into Yoongi’s room, checking in the drawers of the small nightstand. “I can make do without the white coat,” Jungkook murmurs to himself, before turning on his heel to face the older man again. “Do you have stirrups?”

“Stirrups?” Yoongi asks incredulously. His arms are folded over his chest tightly, though the brown loose-knit sweater loses the intimidation factor. “Why would I bring stirrups? They’re attached to the chair anyway, I can’t just pack them away in my suitcase.”

Dammit. Jungkook collapses onto Yoongi’s bed back-first, staring blankly up at the ceiling. “You need to help me, hyung. I’m determined to win fan favourite this week, so I need to go all out.”

A sigh of realization comes from the other side of the room. “Your prompt,” Yoongi remarks flatly. “What is it; nurse and patient?”

Jungkook’s mouth drops open as he sits up. “Doctor and patient,” he declares proudly. “I asked if Sejin could promote me to neurosurgeon but he said it wasn’t relevant.” The thought dampens Jungkook’s spirits a bit. Even just regular surgeon would have been nice. “But anyway,” he continues, “whatever props you have would be greatly appreciated. I already googled a list of medical terms, so I’m feeling pretty good.”

Yoongi sighs again, but he shuffles over to his closet and pulls out a sizeable, bright green first aid kit, laying it on the bed. Jungkook gasps in excitement and makes room for him, but Yoongi just tuts. “First of all,” he explains while unzipping it, “these aren’t props, they’re medical-grade supplies. And you can’t have them all. I don’t trust you with most of the things in here.”

Jungkook frowns, but shrugs off the disappointment. Something is still better than nothing. “Okay, hyung,” he allows in a small voice, “thank you.”

Yoongi fails to hide the quirk of a fond smile as he takes out some of the stuff in the kit. “You owe me,” he says instead.

--

You have to give it to Jungkook; the dedication to his craft is impressive.

After he sent you a vague and rather concerning message about needing to see you in the gym for ‘health reasons’, you were greeted by a hand-written DO NOT DISTURB (unless you’re y/n) sign taped to the door.

Inside, the indoor gym had been transformed. Most of the larger equipment had been shifted to one side, leaving the other half open. In the middle of the open area is a weightlifting bench covered in a white sheet which you’re certain was off his bed. A comically out-of-place office chair is beside a table which Jungkook is using like a desk. The desk is pushed up against the mirror which fills one whole wall of the gym, and you can’t help but laugh at the infographics and charts he’s printed out on A4 sheets of paper and taped to the mirror.

There’s a fuzzy x-ray of some ribs taped next to a heart rate line, frozen mid-pulse like he took a screenshot off a video, which is next to a chart filled with increasingly smaller letters, like one you’d see in an optometrist’s office. Though everything is mismatched, the effort he’s put it really warms your heart.

The desk is where you find Jungkook. He sits with his back to you, typing away obnoxiously loudly at a laptop on the desk. On the screen, gibberish keysmashes fill up an otherwise empty Word document. Rather than a lab coat, Jungkook looks more sharply dressed than you’ve ever seen him in a ironed button-up shirt, pale blue. The back of the fabric is taut against his skin, clearly borrowed from a slightly smaller, or at least less jacked man. But it provides a streamlined view of the muscles in his back and shoulders, tucked into belted black pants to highlight the surprisingly narrow waist.

Kitschy or not, you’re grateful that Jungkook got some kind of cheesy medical roleplay if it meant you finally got to see him in fitted clothing.

Even though he must have heard you open the door and lock it behind you, he remains tapping away at the keys. His head tips slightly to the side, expectant.

“Jungkook,” you call out, disappointed and a little confused when he doesn’t respond. But you quickly realise your mistake. “Oh, uh. Doctor Jeon?”

Like clockwork, he spins around magnanimously on the chair, hands splayed out in a welcoming gesture. “Ah, my favourite patient. Do come in.”

So we already know each other then, you surmise. Remembering all these details was an unexpected, though not entirely unwelcome part of this week’s theme. Developing a backstory, information on the scene, almost felt like constructing a scaffold to continue. There was something equally reassuring and exciting about it. A bolt of arousal shooting between your legs, you step in to the middle of the open area, sitting awkwardly on the covered bench.

“Take a seat,” Jungkook adds redundantly, like he’s following a script. “Let me just bring your file up. Name?”

You pause as he wheels back around to the laptop, pulling up what looks like an Excel spreadsheet. “I thought I was your favourite patient,” you quip with a smirk, but unable to suppress your fondness at how much thought he’s clearly put into it.

Jungkook’s shoulders drop, but he doesn’t falter. “Of course, I’m just going through the motions. I’ve been in the field for so long, you know.” He shrugs demurely. “I was actually a neurosurgeon before this.”

A disbelieving laugh bubbles out of your throat before you can catch it. “You went from neurosurgeon to doctor? Isn’t that backwards?”

Jungkook’s eyes waver, biting his lip. “I prefer the simple life,” he offers as an explanation. He shakes himself out of it, and turns back to the computer once more with a warm sigh. “Alrighty then, I’ve got your file here. It’s been a while since your last visit,” he remarks, cursor hovering over a watermarked image of a clock. “I better check your vitals again.”

You watch in bemusement as he readies himself, first sanitising his hands using a small travel-size bottle that’s in the shape of a cartoon shark, then pulls on a pair of latex gloves that had been lying on his desk. Even in the strangely comedic atmosphere, the sound of him snapping the glove against his wrist makes you gasp soundlessly, thighs pressing together in need.

Jungkook notices it, eyes darting down as he rolls his chair over. He unbuttons each cuff off his shirt and rolls them up to expose his forearms. His hair is getting thicker as it grows, and even though it’s pushed back, a few locks slip forward to frame the smirk on his face.

You swallow, neck craning as he gets closer. The bench you’re sat on clearly isn’t intended as an examination table because it’s just as low to the ground as the chair, and there’s something inside you that runs electric when he comes close, looking down at you from it. With spread knees, he places them on either side of yours and pins you there, making you gasp.

The feeling of the cold gloves on your cheekbones, pressing to keep you steady is dizzying, more so when he looks intensely into your eyes, searching with a cool professionalism that you’d never seen from him before. Though it’s new, you recognise the shift in the tension of the room signifying the true start of the scene.

In your peripheral vision, you spot his tongue darting out to wet his lips, but you’re locked onto his gaze. Jungkook smiles softly. “Eyes are healthy,” he remarks, “good to know you’ll be able to see everything properly.”

The gloves catch on your skin, one sliding down to tighten on your chin, tipping your neck back even more. You’re barely breathing, waiting for his move.

“Open up and say ahh,” he instructs huskily, and you’re responding without thought, letting your lips part and your tongue relax. Jungkook frowns. “Wider.” You feel the corners of your mouth pang as you lower your jaw as much as you can in his grasp. “Keep it like that,” he demands sternly, and your heart thuds.

To your surprise, he doesn’t just look inside. You jerk instinctively in his grip as two gloved fingers slide down your tongue, but his rebuking glare has you settling again, trying to breathe through your nose as he delves deeper, smirking at the way you squirm, legs trapped between his and eyes lidded as you feel the length of his fingers heavy on your tongue.

Quicker than you can put your head around, his fingers plunge deeper, far enough down your throat to make you gag, tears springing to his eyes. His fingers leave as you let out a little cough, blinking wetly at him in betrayal.

Jungkook smirks, not bothering to wipe the shine of your saliva off his glove. “Gag reflex intact and responding well,” he notes smugly.

“How is that a vital?” you question, voice slightly hoarse.

“It’s vital for what I’m about to do to you,” he quips with a lecherous grin, and you bite down hard on your tongue to fight the urge to tremble.

“And what is that, Doctor?” you ask instead, blinking owlishly up at him.

His lip quirks. “Don’t play coy, now,  Y/n, I’ve seen the way you look at me during our appointments. Tell me; why is it that you came here today?”

You swallow, eyes heavy on him. “I’ve been suffering a strange sensation, Doctor,” you make out, your voice quieter than you intended. “Can you make me feel better?”

Jungkook exhales harshly, hands dropping to rest on your knees. “And where does it hurt, hm? Here?”

You suck in a breath as his legs spread further, coming close enough that your knees press against his crotch, the hardness undeniable. A single hand shifts up to lay against your forehead, questioning, and you shake your head. His hand skims lower, pressing firmly against your sternum where you feel your heart race against it.

“Here?” he questions, and continues on when he receives a negative. Next he veers off to the side, cupping a breast and brushing a thumb over your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. “Does it ache here?”

You whimper, arching into his hand. “A little bit,” you offer up weakly, glad you opted out of wearing a bra in anticipation of the scene.

The answer seems to amuse Jungkook, and you shiver when you feel his other hand playing with the hem of your shirt, the gloves tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach. “I better check it out then, hm?”

You feel so exposed, the air conditioner chilling the air and the mirror reflecting Jungkook’s back as he leans in close, breath tickling your bare shoulder as his hands cup your breasts.

Without further preamble, he begins to roll your nipples simultaneously between his fingers, enough pressure to make you shiver as he studies your reactions closely. The feeling of being touched so intimately with the barrier of latex gloves feels both taboo and exciting, and without even realising you find your hands clenched in the fabric of his shirt, gripping at his biceps as they flex with every movement.

“Does it hurt when I do this?” Jungkook asks lowly, humming in response when you shake your head. “What about this?” Suddenly, he’s tugging, pinching them harshly enough to make your back arch to ease the pressure.

You squeal, fingers digging in deeper to the corded muscle of his forearms. “Yeah,” you gasp out shakily, “h-hurts.”

Jungkook doesn’t stop. “But you like it, don’t you?” he accuses as he continues his rough treatment. “Coming into my office, begging me to touch you like this. Fucking filthy.”

A moan slips out as you rock your hips against the bench, seeking friction for the heat between your legs. “Please, Ju- Doctor Jeon, it hurts,” you cry out, gaze imploring as you blink up at him.

All of a sudden, he pulls back entirely, hands falling back onto his own knees as he watches you. “Show me,” he instructs, eyes hazy.

You shiver, the cool air shifting over your naked torso as his stare burns molten hot. “Show you what?”

Carding a hand through his hair to push it back, Jungkook wets his lips. “Show me where it aches the most,” he explains, voice like crushed velvet.

This was a side of him you’d never seen before; neither the competitive dom nor the obedient sub. His sexual versatility never fails to surprise you, and you find yourself hopelessly lost in the calm dominant air he exudes. Shakily, you part your legs.

He scoffs lightly. “That isn’t much help if I can’t see it. Undress.”

A rushed exhale leaves you at his shortness, but you stand up and push off your leggings and panties, kicking them to the side. It’s far harder to bare yourself to him this time, and as you sit, you can’t help but hesitate.

Jungkook raises a brow at your pause, leaning back like he’s disappointed. “I’m a very busy man, Y/n,” he chastises, “these appointment slots aren’t long and if you don’t want the next patient coming in while you’re choking on my cock, I suggest you do as I say, when I say it.”

Your legs fly apart the moment his voice lowers into a growl, clenching automatically at the open air at your most vulnerable place. “Please help me, Doctor,” you plead lowly.

Jungkook curses under his breath and comes forward again, placing a single gloved hand over your core. You jerk instinctively but keep your legs open at his warning glare. Even through the gloves, he has to feel how wet you are, slicking up the latex without him moving it. “It hurts here, hm? Lie down on your back and I’ll take a look.”

Your breath picks up as you turn and lower yourself onto the white sheet, legs dangling over the end. To your surprise, Jungkook doesn’t come around but returns to the desk, rolling his chair away and rifling through what looks like a first aid kit. You crane your head to watch him, narrowing your eyes in confusion as he returns with what looks like two rolled up lengths of gauze bandage.

“This isn’t the usual gyno office,” he explains, unravelling one slowly, “so we don’t have stirrups. But don’t worry; I’ll make sure to keep you nice and open for me.”

Like he’s done this a million times before - though the rational part of your brain knows he’s probably making this up as he goes along - he begins using the bandage material to bind your ankles to the legs of the bench, wide enough that you have to shuffle right to the edge, spread wide. He doesn’t say a thing when he ties them, mumbling to himself like he’s recalling instructions, and slips in his fingers to test how tight they are.

He’s kneeled between your open legs now, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch as he runs his fingertips over your sopping folds, eyes lidded with arousal. “Does it hurt here, Y/n?”

You shake your head, fighting the urge to scoot even closer. “Inside,” you explain, sighing in relief when two fingers plunge inside your walls, scissoring to stretch you out.

Jungkook has one hand on your thigh to hold you steady as he rocks his fingers back and forth like he’s seeking something, and the feeling of the latex, so slick with your juices, has you trembling immediately. “It’s important in this line of work,” Jungkook breathes out as his fingers widen even more inside you, “to be thorough, so just relax for me, let me in.”

The moment you try and unclench, his fingers curl and press up against your g-spot, and it’s like a line of electricity connecting all your nerves together lights up. Your legs instinctively flex in an attempt to close around his hand, but the taut bonds keep them spread, and you sob at the reminder, arms giving out so that you end up flat on your back again.

Jungkook chuckles. “Looks like we found the problem,” he remarks cheerily. His fingers continue their assault, targeted now as you writhe beneath him, and the wet sounds of the latex as he increases to three digits echo obscenely in the large room. “That’s it.”

The joints of your fingers ache as you cling onto the edges of the table for dear life, unable to stop the rising wave of pleasure that threatens to crash. It’s so close you feel it in your teeth, eyes rolling back and babbling nonsense to try and get him to go faster, harder.

Faintly, you hear the sound of him humming in amusement, and your mind conjures the mental image of him, sleeves rolled up and gloves dripping with your arousal, hair falling in his eyes and teeth glinting as he grins and brings you to orgasm. It’s that thought that finally begins to tip you over the edge, and just before the wave crests, you feel his fingers slip out.

“Looks like it doesn’t hurt anymore,” he remarks cheekily.

“No, no, no, don’t stop,” you blabber mindlessly, but it’s too late, and your orgasm washes through you as he sits back and watches the unsatisfying roll of pleasure take your body.

Irrationally, you feel tears prick at your eyes with the cruelness of his actions. “It sti- It still hurts, Doctor,” you sob, reaching a hand down to cup yourself, wanting more even as you hiss with the sensitivity.

Jungkook tuts in fake sympathy. “My fingers can’t reach any further, Y/n, if I couldn’t reach where it hurts, I don’t know how I can help you.”

Your bottom lip trembles as you blink your eyes open again, struggling to focus on him. “Use your cock, Doctor, please, I’ll do anything.”

“Is that so?” You could just about cry in relief when you hear a belt buckle jingling, and Jungkook kneeling over you, lining himself up. You can feel the tip pressed against your entrance, just enough pressure to tease you. “Too impatient for me to even put a condom on, naughty girl.”

“Fuck, I don’t care, just fuck me, Doctor,” you whine, your sentence punctuated by a strangled cry as Jungkook snaps his hips forward, bottoming out in a single thrust.

Somehow you’d forgotten just how long Jungkook was - while he wasn’t the thickest or overall largest, and even the thought of mentally cataloguing the guys’ dicks was strange - there was a graceful rising curve to his length that felt like it pierced right through you, and as he starts a punishing rhythm, you feel the air punched right out of your lungs.

“Is this what you wanted?” Jungkook growls. “Acting innocent when you just wanted my cock to fuck you stupid, hm?”

With every thrust, your body is rocked back and forth on the bench, and you feel the bandages that bind your ankles to the legs of the table loosen, a little bit at first and then enough that they slip off completely. It feels odd to no longer be tied down, and Jungkook notices how your body is suddenly shifting far more than it was before.

His pace slows down and you feel a gloved hand wrap around one of your ankles. “Do you want them back on? I don’t think I tied them so well,” Jungkook notes hesitantly, and if you weren’t wildly chasing your orgasm, you might have cooed at his character dropping away to reveal the Jungkook you’re more used to.

As it is, your mind can only care about one thing. “I don’ need them, just fuck me!” you plead, and Jungkook exhales sharply, lifting your ankle until it rests on his shoulder, holding down your hips to fuck into you once more.

With the new angle, you can just about feel him in your guts, and your mouth drops open soundlessly, the only noises escaping your lips are gasped breaths as you feel a deeper orgasm begin to build.

“Oh fuck, I’m close,” you manage to slur out, a raw scream bouncing off the walls as he lowers a hand to rub at your clit, the slippery glove only making him thumb it faster. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking-ah!”

Your sentence is cut off violently as an orgasm rips through you as suddenly and overwhelmingly as an electric shock. If you’re making any noise, you can’t hear it, your mind like white static as you sit there and let it take you. Every inch of you is singing, down to your toes, and as Jungkook continues to fuck you into oversensitivity, you feel another release, one that makes you shudder and Jungkook swear violently, spilling inside you as he grips at the flesh of your hip.

It takes a while for the blur in your mind to clear, vision swirling in hazy technicolour and whole body trembling. Jungkook must have taken the gloves off at some point, because you feel the softness of his hands as they seek out yours, gently squeezing to rouse you more.

“Y/n,” you hear him say, voice still distant. The fog dissipates more with the calling of your name, and you feel yourself tune in again, once more becoming aware of the cool breeze of the aircon on your heated skin. Jungkook leans over you, eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Y/n. Have you ever done that before?”

You knit your brows in confusion. “Huh?”

Jungkook lets out a light chuckle, sitting back. He’s still inside you, barely softening, and you groan at the sensitivity of him shifting. “Look,” he guides, and you glance down to see your stomach and thighs, shiny with wetness, too thin to be cum. The liquid soaks his shirt, too, leaving dark patches. “That was fucking hot,” Jungkook gushes, his doctor persona well and truly evaporated by now.

You laugh weakly, an exhausted smile stretching at your lips. “I don’t think so? Fuck, that was a lot.”

“You were amazing,” Jungkook praises, squeezing your hands one last time before letting them go. He begins to pull out, then, and you shudder at the emptiness, remnants of his cum dripping out of you as he lowers your leg to the ground again. You sit up carefully, still lightheaded, and watch as he quickly rushes over to the desk, returning with a gauze pad damp with water from a bottle.

He uses it to clean you up in comfortable silence, though you can’t help but bite your lip when you notice he’s still hard. Just as he finishes wiping away the last of the wetness from your thighs and begins to wipe himself off, you reach out a hand to halt him.

“Doctor,” you coo teasingly, “won’t you let me clean you up? I wanna repay you for making the ache go away.”

His chest heaves as he shudders out a breath. “Really?”

You blink up at him as he stands in front of you, his cock right in front of you, glossy with your combined cum. “Don’t you wanna test my vitals one more time, doctor? Just to make sure?”

He gulps as you lean closer and lick a single stripe up the underside of his cock. It’s only slightly bitter, and well worth it for the look on his face and the feeling of his hands carding through your hair.

“I’ve got some filing to do,” Jungkook offers up, chest puffing as he slips back into his role, “if you’re going to clean me up like a good little girl, you can do it while I get back to work. I’m a busy man.”

You bite your lip as he cups the back of your neck and urges you to stand, leading you towards the desk. It’s just tall enough that you can sit on your knees below it, mouthing at his cock as he sits back in the office chair.

Giving a guy head isn’t your favourite hobby, but there’s something weirdly erotic about licking your own cum off of him as he types away, all but ignoring you. As you clean him up dutifully, you realise it’s a challenge, of sorts, to suck him off so well that he breaks concentration.

His jaunty clicks of the mouse and punching of keys continues away as he sighs lowly, feeling your lips wrap around his tip. You tongue the slit, keeping yourself steady by gripping the meat of his inner thighs and let your eyes slip shut so that you can fully focus on the minute sounds he lets out.

As you take him deeper and deeper into your mouth, testing your limits, you begin to learn the rhythm of his typing, recognising what makes it falter. His tip is sensitive, particularly where it meets the shaft, but it’s when you lap at the skin below his base and suck his balls into your mouth, tonguing at them languidly, that makes him break concentration fully.

“Hngh, fuck,” you hear him make out in a strangled voice, a hand coming down to stroke at his own length.

You bat it away immediately. “I thought you needed to work, Doctor,” you tease, “just let me take care of it.”

Jungkook groans but doesn’t protest when you wrap a hand around him and jerk him off, fingers tight around him as you suck at his perineum, making him moan prettily, the tapping of keys sparse and uncoordinated.

“Fuck, gonna- gonna cum again,” he warns, thighs tensing with the urge to thrust up into your grip.

You switch positions to suck his length into your mouth, rolling his balls in your hand and bobbing your head. Jungkook’s falling apart so beautifully, gasping out little ah, ah, ahs with every breath.

The moment you feel him stiffen up even more, you suck in a breath through your nose and swallow him down to the back of your throat, tearing up as your gag reflex kicks in.

He cums with a cry, shooting ropes of cum down your throat, and you wring out every last drop until he’s hissing and pulling away.

Jungkook helps you up from under the table with shaky hands and tucks himself away, panting. “Holy shit,” he says with a exhausted laugh, “I should have gone to medical school.”

--

The two of you spend the late afternoon showering and then returning the gym to its former glory. It’s not until even dinner has passed before you recall the rule of the Bangasm Bomb - a different bed every night.

You’d slept in Jungkook’s bed on the Monday night, and so you’d have to seek shelter elsewhere.

After getting into pajamas, you step out into the second-floor hallway, glancing around to see if anyone’s door is open. Jin’s is open - he’s still downstairs having a beer with Yoongi - but you’ve used his bed before. The only other one that’s ajar is the bunkroom.

Inside, Namjoon has his nose inside a book by a Japanese author you’ve vaguely heard of, and Hoseok folds a pile of laundry on his bed.

“Room for one?” you call out hopefully. The two of them have each chosen a separate bunk so they can see each other, but while Namjoon has a bottom bunk, Hoseok’s hair just about brushes the ceiling on the third and highest bed. The two of them glance up in unison, matching grins as they wave you inside.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Hoseok chimes out cheerfully.

“I was wondering if I could stay in a bed here tonight. I can’t room with Jungkook again.”

Hoseok’s eyes warm in recollection of the scene the three of you shared on Monday. “Well, we’ve got plenty of space. Pick a bed; any bed.”

It makes the most sense to choose the third stack of beds, on the far wall from the door. With only two beds instead of three, it’s easy enough to choose the top one, a perfect halfway point between Namjoon and Hoseok. “It’s not so bad in here,” you remark, tugging up the sheets so you can slip under.

“As far as punishments go, it does seem pretty tame,” Namjoon notes, adjusting a pair of thick reading glasses that balance precariously on his nose. “Though I do feel like it’s the equivalent of a naughty corner. Even if it’s comfortable, it’s the social factor that makes it undesirable.”

“It’s basically a sleepover for losers,” Hoseok surmises.

Namjoon pauses and nods. “Well said.”

You chuckle. “You two seem to be getting along well. Doing a lot of bonding in here, are we?”

“Not a whole lot else to do,” Hoseok points out. “We’ve been chatting away the boredom. Did you know Namjoon thought he could speak to crabs when he was a kid?”

Namjoon lets out a wounded noise, carefully marking his page with a bookmark before tossing the novel to the side. “I never said that! I said I thought they were trying to speak to me, okay?” The academic pokes his head out to look up at you. “Hobi-hyung is scared of Big Bird from Sesame Street!”

Instead of defending himself, Hoseok nods with an indignant pout. “Yeah, I fuckin’ am.”

You let out a peal of laughter. “Wow, you’ve only been in here three nights and you’re already sharing childhood trauma? Jin’s gonna be devastated he missed it.”

“Jin had the chance to come join me and he chose not to,” Hoseok declares. “As far as I’m concerned, Namjoon is the only man in this house I respect.”

Namjoon beams, eyes crinkling behind thick frames. “Thanks, hyung. I respect you, too.”

Hoseok’s chest puffs up in pride. “You better after all the things I’ve taught you.”

Namjoon’s blush is telling. You lean forward in interest, glancing back and forth between the two. “Wait; what did you teach him?”

“Well, we’re not gonna tell you,” the dom responds petulantly, turning his nose up, “it’s a surprise for your scene together.”

You pout, leaning back onto the pillow on your bed. “That’s no fun.”

“Oh, it’ll be fun when you get to experience it firsthand, trust me.”

Namjoon lets out a sigh at Hoseok’s teasing, slipping his glasses off and placing them on the nightstand beside the bunks. “Don’t hype it up too much, hyung, I’m not that good yet.”

“You’ll get there, young grasshopper.”

You frown at the uncertain look on Namjoon’s face. “I can go ask one of the others to room with them if you wanna, uh, practice some more.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen. “No, it’s okay. This can be my rest day.”

Hoseok sighs sweetly, rubbing his eyes. “Actually, rest does sound pretty nice. We can pick it up tomorrow. Night, Joonie. Night, Y/n.”

You and Namjoon chime out a simultaneous reply as Hoseok climbs down the stairs to deposit his pile of folded laundry on the empty bed below, returns to the top bunk, and tucks himself in.

Namjoon seems equally relieved to be able to go to bed early, curling up with a pillow cuddled to his chest. “Sweet dreams,” his low timbre calls out.

You smile fondly at your two boys, snuggled up with peaceful faces as they drift away. “Sleep well,” you offer up, before getting comfortable and letting your own eyes slip closed.

#bts x reader #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #networkbangtan #ficswithluv #magicshopnet #goldenclosetnetwork #ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #btswritersnet #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #bangtanidx

[tipsydipsydo]

➳ Wolf Hybrid! AU

➳ Impregnation/Breeding-Kink

*Prompter’s choice of Situation/Location and Kink

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 980

Genre: Smut!

Rating: 18+

Warnings: HEAVY Dirty Language + Dirty Talk; a little bit Pet-Play (the reader wears lingerie with dog ears ;D); some verbal Degradation; Praising; Body-Worshipping; Pussy Exhibitionism; vaginal Sex; strong Breeding-Kink + (consensual) Impregnation; Knotting; Mentions of Pregnancy Sex

A/N: Well, how to explain that... I don't really know if I ever want kids in my life (for real!), but omg I'm so fucking down for Hybrid Smut and Breeding and Knotting Kink! That's why I loved this request really much!🙈💕

I hope y'all filthy bitches like that too~ 🐺💦

[Links]

BTS Smut Drabbles

My official Masterlist!

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

He growls so deep, it's a real animalistic one when you turn around in the new white lingerie you bought for him, wearing it together with a matching pair of fluffy dog ears. It's illegal to look so cute and sexy in that 'innocent' outfit, you dressed yourself up as a little naughty mate for your fiancé. Your eyes dropping to the floor in a nonchalant way, biting your lip. "A-Alpha? Can you please h-help me? My Body is feeling so hot... I-I think, I'm in ovulation time right now..."

The first few seconds Jungkook just stared at you in disbelief, he already noticed the change in scent when he came through the front door. When you let out a desperate 'Please...' , he didn't let any unneccessary time slip away, comes directly over to you.

Big hands grabbing your half lacy covered ass cheeks, putting you on the dining table in the living room, mouth latching yours. God, his kiss alone shows you what you're doing to him, he's hungry. So, so hungry for you as if he's a starving man. Like a starving wolf, needy for his little bitch.

He's standing between your legs, grinding shamelessly his big but still growing bulge against your sweet, drenched center.

"I'm going to breed my lil doggy bitch, wanna fuck my thick cum in that delicious pussy of yours, want to shoot so much semen into you until your womb is full with my little pups. Until your sweet hole is gaping from my fat knot and your cunt is leaking of all my creamy cum!"

You start to whine, god you love when he's talking to you like that. So filthy, so primal and so so dirty.

"Come Baby, into the bedroom. Your nest is waiting for you, I'll take care of my fertile Babygirl, make her womb really happy and satiesfied with my little babies..."

~

The seductive lingerie and all other clothes are gone long time ago, they found their way to the floor unnoticed. Now you are completely bare and in an almost vulnerable way spreaded open, just for your Jungkook's hungry eyes.

Your thighs don't hide anything of precious center anymore, they're laying sideways on the bedsheets and exposing your Alpha's most desired prey so deliciously.

You start to squirm under Jungkook's heavy breath, his nostrils are flaring. The smell of your aphrodisiac-like arousal activiates all of his urgest primal instincts and you can imagine, how incredibly difficult it is for Jungkook to control his animalistic behaviours.

Why?

Because you're fertile. Since Jungkook and you met years ago, today it's the first day for him to smell the scent of your pure fertile arousal.

You never informed your mate about your decision to stop taking the birth control pills, this here is your personal way to show him that you're ready to start a family with him.

Your pussy is so fucking drenched in sweetest juices, you're overflowing and your honey is literally dripping onto the mattress.

Your hand trembles a little bit when you part your swollen pussy lips with your right index and middle finger. Letting him know, how ready you already are.

There is no need to waste time for foreplay or so, you should use the following hours properly to breed a proper litter of pups into you.

"Seems like, here is someone so fucking damn desperate to get bred! Hmm, just look at you, your gorgeous body prepared everything for me and my cum. Such a wonderful healthy body to feed my babies so good while they're growing in you. Letting them grow so strong and well-nurished with all the things they need in your womb. A wonderful tummy to keep them safe, those pretty hips and look at this perfect pelvis! That's a pelvis to bear my babies in the most comfortable way ever~", growls your fiancé in the deepest timbre into your ear and sucking gently on your soft throat.

His voice is low but so smooth, lovingly praising you, his mate, with filthy words how good you prepared your body for his seeds. God, when he just looks at her and smelling her mind-numbing scent... everything screams at him, to bury many pups into her womb.

"...and then these big heavy tits, perfect for all this milk you need, to nurse my babies good. Let my babies grow to wonderful persons... fuck, you have the perfect body to get bred!", wispers Jungkook almost tenderly when he slides teasingly with his thick cock between your puffy pussy lips. Playing a little bit your clit and circling gently your entrance with his crown, looking at you in a loving way... but still bold and all teasy.

He knows about your concerns of pregnancy, body changes and having a family together. You mentioned them to him when he had his first rut after you officially get together into a relationship.

But your Alpha wants you to be proud.

To be proud of getting pregnant with his babies, to be proud to become a mom for his childrens, to be proud of having a family with him. Not to be shy to show that beautiful pregnant body.

"Baby, when I've impregnate you today, then I want you to ride me the next months with your growing baby bump! You should cockmilking me with your sweet pussy, comfort your already fed womb with a bit more cum. When you do that for me, I'll stroke your round belly, gently carressing our growing babies in your uterus. Hmm, fuck... I want to watch you so badly like that! How my beautiful fertilized babygirl is riding me with her sexy Baby Bump.", he grunts, finally sinks slowly into you and filling you completely up to the cerfix.

"Hm, Baby? Do you want that? Wanna have even more Sex and Breeding when you're already impregnated? In my opinion that sounds really great~"

#tipsy's smut drabbles #requested #goldenclosetnet #btswritersnet #bangtanhq #bts smut #hybrid! jungkook #bts x reader #bts hybrid smut #hybrid au #jungkook smut #knotting kink #bts jungkook x reader #impreg! kink #jungkook x reader smut #tipsydipsydo #bts smut fanfic

[jingabitch]

Lucky

SUMMARY: you’re a lucky girl

RATING: explicit

PAIRINGS: yoongi x reader

WARNINGS: smut | implied creampie | praise kink | established relationship | not much actually this is pretty soft

WORD COUNT: 760

A/N: as promised, here is the yoongi pwp! this was a fill for the kinky wyr game - there are 2 more drabbles that i can hopefully get done fairly soon.

thank you to the amazing @knjkitten for looking over this for me!

Yoongi likes to act like he doesn’t care what people think about him. He’s placid and calm in the face of hate comments, unaffected by the paparazzi and all those blogs, and never reacts to the ribbing of his brothers and friends.

Only you know his secret, and you feel so lucky to be the one he’s chosen to let in like this.

As much as Yoongi likes to act like he doesn’t give a shit, he loves the validation. Craves compliments, both in the bedroom and out. You see the way he lights up when you tell him he looks nice, feel him redouble his efforts when you clench down on him and scream about how amazing his tongue on your clit makes you feel.

He’d never admit it, but you know your husband well.

It took time, of course. Even though you’re a switch, Yoongi is a dom and at the beginning you’d just let him take you apart methodically. He never told you about his praise kink, and it never occurred to you that he had one.

Remembering how you’d discovered it still makes you shiver a little bit. Your epiphany had come in stages – when you’d gotten a cold a couple of months into your relationship and called him the best, kindest, most thoughtful boyfriend for bringing you soup (that Jin had cooked, but still,) when he’d made you squirt for the first time and you called him a sex god, when you’d purred and said he had the biggest, thickest cock you’d ever had in your mouth and he immediately came all over your face.

Point is, Yoongi is an exemplary husband and lover, and you like letting him know how much you love and appreciate him every bit as much as he likes hearing it.

Which is why, even as you throw your head back and moan, clutching the pillows above your head, you make sure to marshal your limited brainpower to speak. “Yoongi, Yoongs…” you pant. “Your mouth… mmm… it’s always so-” Even before you finish your sentence, Yoongi knows what you’re trying to say and redoubles his efforts on you, flicking at your clit repeatedly with his tongue while crooking his fingers in you just so, and you arch your back, trying to get closer to him.

“Always so what, love?” he prompts when your words devolve into garbled moans.

He loves when you praise him, thrives on it, and you know, so even though you can barely think, you force out, “So good, perfect, always so perfect for me, God!” As a reward, he sucks on your clit just right, and you throw your head back almost on cue as you tremble, clenching down hard on his fingers as you cum.

You’re barely down from your orgasm when Yoongi levels himself over you, pushing your thighs wider apart as he settles between them. “Such a good girl, my perfect girl, scream so loud for me,” he pants against your lips. You can taste yourself on him, and you smile. As much as Yoongi loves receiving praise, he also wants to give it to you.

“You always fuck me so good,” you tell him, your hands running up and down his sides as he presses into you, his teeth sinking into your shoulder.

He detaches his teeth. “Yeah?” he asks as he bottoms out.

“Mmm, yes, Yoongs. You’re the best,” you assure him, your words stuttering as he starts thrusting into you. He starts harsh and forceful, hungry for his own orgasm after giving you two earlier with his fingers and his tongue, knowing, after all these years, that you’re tough enough to take it.

“Fuck, you always fuck me so good, Yoongs. I love you, I love you,” you chant as he fucks you, feeling the way his hips stutter and lose their rhythm at every proclamation of your feelings for him.

He cums before you, not that you mind when he’d already been so generous earlier. You rub his back and whisper sweet nothings and compliments in his ear, hugging him close when he slumps over you in exhaustion.

When he pulls out of you, you prop yourself up on your elbows, expecting him to usher you into the shower to clean up, but instead, he makes his way back down the bed, grinning up at you from between your thighs. “Can’t leave my lady wanting,” he tells you, before he gets back to work.

Damn, you think as you sink back into the pillows. You’re a lucky girl indeed.

#btswritingcafe #btswritersnet #kwritersworldnet #smutcentralnet #magicshopnet #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #bangtanhq #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #bts #bts fic #yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut