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straykeedz · 7 months

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day 1: bang chan + praise

©straykeedz

tw: mentions of jealousy and insecurities; female anatomy; semi-clothed sex (reader is naked but chan keeps his clothes on); softdom!chan; nipple play; oral (f receiving); unprotected piv sex (don’t do that at home 🤨); light ass play (it’s barely even there honestly); creampie; aftercare ♡

wc: 3,1k

🔖 (open): @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; ♡

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni.

♡

“Look at me.”

Chan’s voice echoes in your room. He is kneeling between your legs, still completely dressed, with the sleeves of his unbuttoned shirt rolled up his forearms as his hands rest on each of your knees. You’re on your back, laying on your bed, legs spread to welcome his body between them. You’re in only your underwear - your clothes scattered on the floor, but you couldn’t care less.

“Look at me.” Chan repeats, and you do as he says, snapping your head up to meet his eyes - dark with lust. His hands travel all over your thighs, gently squeezing the flesh with his fingers as he does so. “You were jealous tonight, weren’t you? Of that girl.”

To this day, Chan is still the only person who can read you like an open book. Even at the club, he immediately knew something was up with you - he could see it in the way you wouldn’t look him in the eyes, the way you’d bite your cheek nervously when he was talking to you. All because you were jealous of the girl he’d been talking with at that stupid party. It was a brief interaction, though it was enough to make your stomach twist nonetheless. You couldn’t help but compare her to you and damn - she was beautiful, and she looked just like Chan’s type.

You nod without uttering a single word, too embarrassed to voice your insecurities.

“There’s no need to be jealous, baby girl.” Chan speaks, and the pet name he calls you has you shivering under his soft touch, his hands glued to your skin. “I’m yours.”, he whispers.

Your breath hitches when you hear those words and tears well up in your eyes. You wish you weren’t so damn insecure. You lower your gaze, but Chan promptly places two fingers under your chin and lifts your head up, forcing you to meet his eyes once again. He’s smiling. Not a cocky smile, neither a smirk - a warm, sweet smile, the smile you love so much.

“Chan…”

“I’m yours.”, he repeats, taking your hand between his, before placing it on top of his chest. “Can you feel it?”, he asks, referring to his heartbeat. You nod, looking at him through your eyelashes. “It beats for you.”, he whispers. “Got it, baby girl?”, he asks.

You nod, looking him in the eyes - he knows you’re being honest. “You know my heart beats for you only, too.”, you murmur, not taking your eyes off of him.

He smiles at you, leaning in to kiss your lips - a chaste kiss despite you being half naked under him. “I know, baby.”, he nuzzles your nose with his, then pecks your lips once again. “We’re soulmates.”, his words make your stomach twist - this time, with joy. “That’s why there’s no need to be jealous.”, he points out and you know he’s right, it’s just… insecurities are a bitch, and there isn’t much you can do about it.

“I know, Chan, it’s just…”, you mumble, lowering your gaze.

“It’s just?”, he encourages you. He hates not knowing what’s going on in your mind, especially if it’s important enough to make you feel this way.

“I guess I’ve been feeling a bit more insecure lately…”, you admit with a sigh, still not looking at him.

He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows. “More insecure?”, he asks, stressing the first word. “Why are you feeling insecure in the first place, baby?”, he asks, tone soothing and sincerely concerned.

“Because you’re you and I’m… me.”, you simply state.

Chan chuckles, shaking his head. “What does this even mean?”, he asks. He doesn’t want to come off as disrespectful towards you - he just genuinely can’t comprehend why on earth would you feel insecure about yourself when you look insanely gorgeous in his eyes.

“You’re perfect, Chan. Handsome, fit, charming…”, you whine. “And I look like this.”, you cover your face with both of your hands.

“Yeah, like a fucking goddess.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”, you whisper, not convinced at all by his words.

But Chan’s not having this tonight, so he delicately wraps his fingers around your wrists and removes your hands from your face, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “I’m saying it because I mean it.”, he states, dead serious, piercing eyes staring into yours. “You’re fucking beautiful. Understood?”, he asks you, fingers still around your wrists.

You gulp, swallowing the lump in your throat as you nod slowly.

“Good.”, he grins. He lets go of your wrists and his fingers immediately go to the button of his jeans, undoing it pretty quickly, then he unzips them. “Now - I’m going to give you the fucking of your life.”

Your eyes widen and you can feel wetness pool in your underwear, goosebumps all over your skin as you watch him pull his pants and underwear down just enough to free his hard cock, not even bothering to slide them down the curve of his ass as he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his bare chest.

“Panties and bra.”, his voice vibrates in his chest. “Off.”, he demands with a grunt.

You hook your thumbs on each side of your panties and slowly begin to pull them down your legs, lifting your ass in order to remove them completely, kicking them off for good, revealing your bare pussy to him - a mouthwatering sight that, Chan is pleased to certify, never fails to amaze him. Then, you sit on the mattress and unclasp your bra, and now that you find yourself so close to his hard dick, you stretch your hand to wrap your fingers around its thick base, but Chan is faster and halts your movements.

“Not tonight.”, he shakes his head as a no. “Tonight’s about you. Now lie down for me, baby girl.”

His body is immediately on yours, and he wastes no time in latching his mouth to the skin of your neck, humming and grunting when he hears you moan and whine under his touch. Then, he cups one of your breasts with the palm of his hand.

“Fucking perfect.”, he moans against your skin as he delicately pinches your nipple. Meanwhile, his teeth delicately scrape the soft flesh of your collarbone. “You’ve got the prettiest tits.”, he kisses and licks the skin between your boobs as he continues to play with your nipple, earning a series of whines from you. “So pretty.”, he murmurs as his mouth gets closer and closer to your other breast, a few inches away from your neglected nipple.

“Chan.”, you whine when he latches his mouth to your nipple, engulfing it between his plump lips as he sucks on it. He sucks and sucks and sucks - and then he bites, making you see stars as you can feel yourself clenching around nothing, pussy so wet you’re sure you’re dripping on the sheets.

“You like it when I play with your pretty tits, don’t you?” Chan teases - he already knows the answer, but you nod anyway, biting your lower lip as he takes your nipple back in his wet mouth, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it, as if it’s his fucking job.

“Mhhh, fuck.” Chan moans, pulling away from your nipple, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to it. “Gonna make you cum just from this - from me sucking on your tits.”, he announces before engulfing your nipple with his plump lips, tongue delicately swirling around it as his fingers keep on playing with your other one.

He knows you can cum just from that - you already have with him, and he knows what to do to send you over the edge in record time. So you fall apart under his touch with a guttural grunt less than a couple of minutes later, toes curling as you cum - Chan’s fingers pinching one nipple and his plump lips suck on the other one, teeth occasionally scraping the surface of your sensitive skin.

“Chan…”, you whimper as you find your release.

“You’re so hot when you cum for me, baby girl.” Chan praises you as he lets go of your nipples while you’re trying to catch your breath. “The most beautiful sight.”

“Chan, baby…”, you whine, cupping his face in both of your hands. “Want you.”

He’s absolutely in love with how desperate you’re sounding right now, but God knows he’s not done with you yet. Not even remotely close to being done with you. He wants you to know how much he loves you and your body, how much you turn him on, how you have him wrapped around your fingers. He needs you to know.

“Not yet, baby.”, he pecks your lips as he props himself up on his elbow, his other hand brushing the skin of your body all the way from your breast to your pubic bone, right on your groin. “Think you can give me another one?”, he nuzzles your nose with his.

You nod timidly, and you think he’s about to make you cum on his fingers, when you feel him lift his body and kneel between your legs - hard cock looking painfully red and leaking pre-cum - before laying flat on his stomach right between your legs to the point he’s basically making eye-contact with your wet pussy. Oh.

Chan is a big fan of oral sex - whether it is receiving it or giving it, even though he doesn’t please you with his mouth as much as he’d like to, mostly because you get impatient and practically beg him to fuck you already. Tonight, tho, he’s not giving in, no matter how much you beg him. Tonight you’re going to cum on his tongue and then he’s going to fuck you.

“The prettiest pussy.”, he comments, as the pads of his fingers delicately brush against the skin of your labia. “My pussy.”, he grunts, eyes lock on your clit that’s basically screaming for attention.

He contemplates the idea of teasing you, but then decides he’ll leave that for another time, because it’s not what tonight’s about. So, without uttering another word, he licks a long stripe that goes from your wet slit to your clit - pleased with the way you whine and kick your head back as you grip on the bedsheets.

“Fuck.”, you moan when he repeats the previous action, only this time you don’t kick your head back - instead, you make eye-contact with him as he licks you clean from your previous orgasm.

“Mhh, so sweet too.”, he hums against your skin as he swallows your arousal. “I love to taste you. I love to get my mouth on you, promise you’ll let me do this more often.”, he places a kiss directly on your clit, making you squirm under his touch.

“Yes. Fuck, yes.”, you pant when he wraps his lips around your sensitive nub, pleased with your answer. He lets go of your clit only to dampen his lips by licking them, and then he’s back to sucking on your most delicate spot, knowing it drives you crazy.

“Good girl.”, he praises, now playing with your clit using the tip of his skilled tongue, making you see stars. “This is my pussy.”, he sucks - hard. “Only I get to pleasure you this way, right?”, he rhetorically asks, and sucks again.

“Yours. Only you.”, you pant, mind blank as you try to fight the urge to cum on his tongue - you want this to last a little more, but the way he’s now licking your pussy tells you he wants to get you off as soon as possible.

He eats you out as if it’s his last meal. He alternates long sucks on your clit with kitten licks, then lets the tip of his tongue do the rest, and you can already feel your second orgasm building up in your stomach. With another hard suck on your clit, you fall apart under him for the second time, chanting his name like a prayer as you release, a bit of your arousal dripping onto the sheets, but Chan is quick to lick them clean, savoring your taste and swallowing gladly.

“Liked it?” Another rhetorical question, since he can see your legs are practically shaking - a clear sign you enjoyed his mouth on you.

“Loved it.”, you respond, and he smiles at you - chin glistening with your cum.

“Good.”, he kneels between your legs and wraps his slender fingers around his cock, stroking it a couple of times and smearing his own arousal all over his pink tip. “Now turn around.”

You gulp, eyes widening as soon as you hear those words. “What?”

“Turn around.”, he repeats. “Face down, ass up. I reckon I promised you the fucking of your life, didn’t I?”, he smirks.

You do as he demanded, mouth watering at the thought of your sweet Chan giving it to you good from behind. You should feel at least a little embarrassed to be completely naked and on full display in front of him, who’s still fully clothed behind you, but you don’t. In fact, you couldn’t care less as both your mouth and pussy are drooling in anticipation. Somehow, the fact that his clothes are still on makes it even more exciting.

“So obedient. My sweet girl.” Chan comments as he positions himself behind you, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance, kissing your slit. One hand wraps around the base of his thick cock, while he grips on your waist with the other, keeping you in place.

He’s delicate when he pushes inside - knowing that you’re a lot more sensitive from this angle, and that you can feel him even deeper. Perhaps this is the reason why he chose this position, perhaps he wants you to feel all of him. There’s nothing you can do to prevent the guttural sound that escapes your throat when he’s fully buried inside of you, and you swear you can feel its very tip kissing your cervix from this angle.

“You good?” Chan asks, whimpering, as he grabs your hips with his other hand as well. He wants to make sure he’s not hurting you in any way.

“Good. Full.”, is all you’re able to say.

He chuckles. “You feel so good around me, baby.”, he moans, starting to thrust back and forth inside of you at a steady rhythm. “Take my cock so well.”, he praises you, gripping tighter on your hips.

The slapping sounds of skin against skin soon fill your bedroom, and you’re both left incapable of speaking for a while - him, too blessed with the feeling of having your tight walls wrapped around him, you with how good his cock is pounding inside of you.

“Feels so big inside of me, Chan.”, you pant, gripping on the sheets so tight he can see your knuckles turn white.

See, Chan is a sucker for praise. He loves praising you, but when you praise him? God, have mercy on him. He starts pounding inside of you even faster now, however not too roughly. “Yeah? You like my cock?”, he asks breathless - hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he thrusts relentlessly.

“I love it.”, you purr, and you can feel him twitch inside of you - a signal he’s close. “It’s so perfect, Chan. It’s big and long and thick and-“

“Fuck.”, he curses, thrusting a bit harder - his balls slapping against your clit. “I love your pussy so much, baby.”, he pants. “I love you so fucking much.”, the words roll off his tongue easily and almost automatically, a sign he’s being honest.

“I love you too.”, you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, mouth agape as he slides his cock in and out of you relentlessly. “Yeah, give it to me like that.”, you purr.

You see him biting his lower lip, eyes closed. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”, a particular hard thrust makes you moan in pure pleasure. “Make me so hard all the time.” Chan starts to ramble. “Even tonight, fuck. I got so hard while looking at you. You were so beautiful in that dress. You’re always beautiful.”

You can already feel another orgasm building up in your stomach - thanks to his amazing cock and his words, a deadly combination. “Chan, you’re gonna make me cum.”, you announce with a moan, your walls squeezing him even tighter to the point he finds it hard to move inside of you.

“Again?”, he asks, a bit surprised. Three times in one sitting is not a record for the two of you, but it’s also not that common as well, so he’s proud with himself.

“Mh-hm.”, you hum. “Cock’s too good.”

“Fuck, baby, I’m close, too. Cum for me. Give me another one.”, desperation in his voice as his hips move more frantically now, cock throbbing inside of you.

What sends you over the edge, tho, is when he taps your other hole with the pad of his thumb - not sliding it in, just brushing your rim with it and occasionally tapping on the sensitive flesh. That has you cumming in record time, squeezing him so hard it almost hurts as you cream around his length, which is what sends him over the edge as well.

“God, I’m- I’m cumming, fuck.”

He spills inside of you with a deep, hoarse grunt, gripping tight on your waist as he shoots all of his load in your pussy, careful not to waste a single drop, still buried deep inside of you. It takes him a few seconds to come off his intense high, and eventually he loosens the grip on your hips and begins to pull out, watching mesmerized as his cum mixed with yours starts dripping out of your hole - still so tight even after what you just did. He delicately taps you on the flesh of your ass, motioning for you to lie down on your stomach and just relax - he knows your legs must be probably sore.

He disappears from the bedroom only to come back a few seconds later with a wet washcloth, then lies down on the bed next to you and brings it between your legs to clean you up from both yours and his body fluids, careful not to overstimulate you as he peppers your shoulder with soft kisses.

“I love you so much…”, he whispers against your skin.

“I love you too.”, you murmur, shifting on the bed only to bury your face in his neck, nuzzling your nose against his skin.

“Promise me you won’t feel insecure ever again.”, he kisses the top of your head. You can’t promise him that - it’s not something you have control over. You gulp, swallowing the lump in your throat, but don’t answer him. He sighs. “At least, promise me that every time you feel insecure, you’ll tell me. So that I can prove you how much I love you.” That you can do. “Deal?”

You nod, a smile spreads on your face. You place a kiss on his chest.

“Deal.”

♡

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bangtanflirt · 8 months

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(Un)natural Instincts (Part 5)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: brief mention of the lasting effects of performing sexual acts under the influence of the synthetic hormones (aka dubcon), slight daddy issues

____

Yoongi wakes up to the sound of his phone alarm blaring in his ear. It takes him a moment to remember he’s not in his room, the chandelier on the ceiling making that evident. No matter how many times he sleeps in this room, the extravagance of it will always startle him. You really were not one for subtlety when it came to home décor (or at least, twenty-one-year-old you wasn’t).

He looks at the door and remembers the reason he’s here…how there’s six wolf hybrids on the other side. Sure, they’re about as docile as a box of puppies at the moment, but it’s only a handful of more days until that changes. And worst of all, he still has to go to work and leave you alone with them for hours—especially now that you’ve paused housekeeping and chef visits. Even if you didn’t pause them, they’d stop coming on their own; no one sane would take a chance around a 40% wolf pack slowly remembering their natural instincts. Hell, the security services he’s looked at won’t even take that risk. No matter how many times he tells you how insane of a decision this is, your stubbornness will always win out in the end. He’s never been able to stop you when you’re determined to do something.

Yoongi wishes he could stay here with you, but he knows there’s no way you’d rest easy without him keeping you updated on business. He’s always been your right-hand, and while others might find the role burdensome, he prides himself on it. You don’t keep people close often, having your guard set up higher than the Great Wall of China, and it feels nice knowing he can see a side of you others don’t. Yes, it’s probably the feelings talking—feelings he’s tried to shoo away for a long time now—but that doesn’t make it any less true. He likes this job, and being by your side every day, far too much to risk it by trying anything. And he sure as hell won’t be put in the box of men who constantly hit on you during work, knowing far too well how much you hate their gazes and remarks.

It's when he’s making his way to the kitchen for his morning coffee does he lock eyes with Jimin, who’s already bright-eyed and making pancakes.

“Good morning, Sir! Would you like some pancakes and bacon?”

Yoongi doesn’t normally eat breakfast, but he does not have it in him to say no to the cheery wolf.

“Um…sure, thank you.”

“My pleasure. Anything else I can get you? Juice? Coffee?”

“I can make my own coffee but thank you for offering.”

“No please, I insist!”

He doesn’t leave any room for objections as he races over to the coffee machine, keeping a skillful eye on the pancake on the stove while brewing a new pot.

Yoongi watches awkwardly, not really knowing what to do in this situation. He’s never really talked to a hybrid before.

Do I just talk like I would to another person? Should I howl? No, dumbass, don’t howl. That’s weird.

He opts to stay silent as Jimin prepares his meal.

The wolf is in a visibly cheery mood, as evident by the soft whistling he does while making his way around the kitchen. The cause of this mood is simple: his hyung was still not in the room when he woke up. If you’re using Hoseok’s services, then that’s one step closer to getting you to use the whole pack. Which means they have a chance at staying here. Hoseok hyung did his part, now it’s Jimin’s turn. So he woke up early, memorized where everything in the kitchen was, and started working his magic.

And the fruit—or pancake—of his labor is sitting pretty on a plate, served with a cup of hot coffee on the side. He waits eagerly for Yoongi to take his first bite, which the man does quickly under the expecting gaze.

“This is really good, thank you.” He mumbles between mouthfuls, making the younger man break into a wide grin.

“Thank you for enjoying it Sir! I can make it again for breakfast tomorrow, or eggs, or toas—”

“Just Yoongi is fine. ‘Sir’ isn’t necessary. And thank you again for the food, but there’s no need to cook every morning. I usually prefer to make my own coffee and head out.”

“Oh…then I’ll just prepare the coffee for you! It’ll be in your hand right when you walk out your room!”

Yoongi waves his hand dismissively,

“No need. I’ll make it myself.”

Jimin looks for any sign of a trick. He remembers things like this from the lab, where they’d give him trick scenarios to see if he was smart enough to catch on. But Yoongi’s face doesn’t indicate anything.

He seems awkward, so maybe he just doesn’t know how to use a hybrid yet? I should let him know how to use me.

“But I’m here to serve y/n, and you’re y/n’s guest. This is what I’m made to do.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath, it’s too damn early in the morning for a conversation like this.

“Neither y/n nor I are expecting any services from you or the others. This house is a place for you to recover and rest.”

Now the wolf looks even more perplexed.

“But y/n is using our services. She let Jin hyung do the dishes yesterday, Jungkook helped move furniture around, and Hoseok hyung was with her all night. So why can’t I make you a cup of coffee every morning?”

Yoongi halts his motions, replaying what he just heard in his head.

Hoseok hyung was with her all night.

Hoseok…the “romantic” hybrid?

No. It couldn’t be.

You wouldn’t do something like that.

“What do you mean he was with her all night?”

“Hyung went over last night. He’s still in the room with her now.” He says if it’s most casual thing in the world.

Yoongi’s legs work faster than his brain at that moment, as he’s already rushing to your door in an instant, leaving an oblivious Jimin to clean up in the kitchen.

He knocks but you don’t answer, so he knocks louder. It’s Hoseok who delicately opens the door, making Yoongi feel like he’s about to vomit the entire breakfast he’s just had.

He practically bulldozes his way in, looking around for you before hearing the water running from the bathroom.

“Y-y/n is in the shower. D-did you need anything, Sir?”

“Don’t call me Sir.” He snaps.

Hoseok doesn’t know what to do. This is his first time talking to this man, and it’s clear he’s already in his bad graces. It feels as if his feet are stuck in one place.

“What happened last night, between the two of you?”

Hoseok knows it’s wrong to lie, especially to a guest brought by his owner. He knows he should say what really happened: how you and him slept on opposite sides of the bed and didn’t even touch the entire night, how he didn’t even have a single thought of touching you nor the desire to have sex with anyone anymore—but how could he, a romantic, trained to do just that, admit this? How could he admit it to himself, let alone Yoongi?

So he doesn’t.

“I-I w-was g-good for her the whole n-night. She was happy with my s-service.”

What the fuck y/n.

Yoongi’s seeing red, leaving the house as soon as possible and not sparing Jimin a single glance as the wolf exclaims a “Have a good day at work!” on his way out.

___

Something feels off when you text Yoongi this morning. He’s usually not the most expressive texter, but his tone feels cold even for him. So you ask if he’s free for a call, which he says he’s too busy for. That’s the second red flag. Yoongi never declines your calls unless he’s with his mother in the hospital.

Maybe there’s problems with her health again? Maybe it’s got him distracted at work?

Your worries keep you too occupied to realize how eagerly Jimin is standing there, waiting for praise for his creation. It’s only when the wolf’s nervous fidgeting becomes unavoidable do you look up and get the cue.

“Thank you so much for breakfast Jimin. It was delicious.”

His heart swells at the compliment.

“Did Yoongi eat this before he left?”

He nods.

“How did he seem? His mood, I mean.”

Jimin stares up for a moment, recalling the interaction.

“He seemed okay? He said he liked the food, but then he got up really quickly to go somewhere…back to his room I think? I’m not sure. Then he left the house really fast.”

“I see.”

You wrack your brain, trying to think of what could have happened in the morning. But you have to remind yourself that it’s Yoongi, and one thing about Yoongi is that he opens up on his own terms—something you both have in common—so all you can really do is wait until he’s ready to talk about whatever’s on his mind. Hopefully it’s something you can help out with.

“Is everyone else awake? Have they already had breakfast?”

“We’re allowed to have breakfast too?” His pupils dilate at the thought. No one thought breakfast would be on the table when you were already being so generous with lunch and dinner. He’s been staring at each pancake he’s flipped, desire in his eyes as thick as the maple syrup he drizzled.

“Yes Jimin, breakfast is for everyone here.”

“I’ll get the others right now! Thank you so much!”

You watch fondly as he does a half-walk half-skip out of sight.

“Guys! Y/n said we can eat breakfast, come on out!” It doesn’t take long until the four from the hybrid room come out, and Hoseok makes his way out from your room, instantly receiving proud looks and pats on the back from his packmates.

“What did she say about last night?!” Taehyung wastes no time in inquiring from his hyung.

Hoseok chuckles nervously, wanting nothing to get the five pairs of eyes off of him.

“She was very satisfied.” The words are bitter as they leave his mouth.

“I knew it! No one can resist our Hobi! Good job hyung!”

Namjoon is simultaneously relieved yet disappointed. Relieved that there’s a chance to stay, but disappointed with himself that he couldn’t step up and be the reason. He can’t help but feel like he let Hoseok down by relying on him. He’s the Alpha. He’s supposed to be the reliable one.

“Come on guys, let’s go eat.”

___

“Thank you so much for the meal y/n. We’ll wash up first then assist you in any way you need.”

“You can use the other three vacant bathrooms if you don’t want to wait on each other. There’s fresh towels under each sink.”

“Oh just one bathroom is enough. We’re used to showering together.”

You don’t miss the way Jungkook recoils at the mention of a shower.

“Jungkook doesn’t like showers. He prefers baths.” You state matter-of-factly, surprising Namjoon.

Has his pup been going around demanding things from you? He knows better than to do that.

Jungkook writhes under his Alpha’s gaze, unable to handle disappointing him.

He knows he’ll have to go back to showers with the others now, but there’s a selfish voice in the back of his head wishing he didn’t.

“He’s fine with showers, aren’t you Koo?”

Jungkook nods quick, but you’re not buying it.

“Jungkook, don’t lie to me. Are you sure you’re okay with taking a shower?”

His throat goes dry. He can’t lie to you but he also knows what he’s about to say will disappoint his packmates—make him look like a spoiled brat.

“N-not really. I-I’d like to take a bath please—if that’s allowed.”

“Jungkook. We are not going to waste y/n’s water by washing up separately. You know better.” Namjoon’s voice is low and solemn, making the other hybrids watch with bated breaths. He feels bad, knowing why Jungkook is so afraid. The labs used to only let them have freezing cold showers. The researchers didn’t like how he would shiver in the stall, something the rest were much better at controlling. They called it misbehaving and made him stay behind to hose him down with even colder water.

So, no one really blames Jungkook for not wanting to take a shower here, but it’s about principle. Sure, it seemed you were lenient enough to let Jungkook have his way on some matters, but that was when it was just the two of you. What if the others follow his example and start asking for special treatment? There’s only so much you’d allow before getting fed up with them. No, he has to snip it off at the bud, make sure everyone is behaving perfectly for you.

Jungkook’s floundering, looking for any way out, but thankfully you step in.

“It’s okay Namjoon, really. Everyone’s free to use either one, and please feel free to take individual showers. You could each take twelve hour showers and I’d still have more than enough money for the water bill, I promise.”

Namjoon examines your face carefully, seeing nothing but sincerity.

“Are you sure?”

“One thousand percent.”

The atmosphere lightens up enough for Taehyung to speak up from the back.

“W-what about warm water? Is that okay?”

“More than okay.”

Namjoon looks at you with a sliver of solace, but still on guard for the slightest hint of a trap.

___

The rest of the day goes by with the hybrids focusing on little tasks you’ve allocated.

Jungkook’s still making his way through Extraordinary Woo, Hoseok joining in with his own little notebook. You still can’t look the older one in the eye after last night, feeling like shit for even considering what he was offering you. Thank god you snapped out of it quick, or you could never forgive yourself. You still need to find a good time to sit them around and tell them nothing happened; as dumb of a decision you made to let him sleep over, the last thing you want is for anyone to actually think you did anything more than just sleeping. Every time you tried to bring up the topic at breakfast, however, Hoseok asked you some other question to distract you, never quite letting you get the words out.

Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung are tucked away in an abandoned study room, organizing your extensive book collection. It was Jin who suggested it, having his hands itching to clean the moment you showed the room during last night’s tour. It’s not hard labor, so you agree to appease them.

Namjoon prefers to keep by your side in your home office, working on a rather difficult puzzle you laid out for him. It’s endearing to watch his chin protrude as he scans the image on the box and the 250 pieces scattered on the table.

Even though you’re technically on vacation, work never really stops, as evident by the documents that need your approval piling in the database. Yoongi texts you updates of a couple of ventures, but it’s with the same stand-offish tone. It makes you more upset than you care to admit, not receiving his little sarcastic quips throughout the day.

You’re scanning through some current market trends when you receive the call you’ve been dreading: your father. You clear your throat before answering, trying to come off as confident as you can.

“Hello father.”

Namjoon’s ears perk up at that. He knows he shouldn’t use his hybrid hearing right now, keep everything filtered to his immediate surroundings like they taught at the lab (no one likes a nosy pet), but his curiosity gets the best of him. He almost jumps at the yelling on the other side of the phone, your father clearly not happy with you at the moment. He doesn’t make it obvious that he’s listening in, only sparing the shortest glances your way in between the puzzle. Your face is aloof through it all, showing no indication that you’re being so harshly berated at the moment; it’s an expression he’s all too familiar with. It’s one that was trained into him perfectly at the lab; stoic, statue-esque features to never show you’re scared—never show weakness. Namjoon, who’s had it beaten and drugged into him, can’t help but wonder what circumstances made you have the same expression.

You hang up just as calmly as you picked up, only indication of your actual mood being your nervously tapping foot.

“Is everything alright? Anything I can help with?”

He knows nothing is alright, considering you’ve spent the last fifteen minutes with your father telling you how spineless you’re being.

“The people at my company don’t like me right now. If you know how to change that, I’m very much all ears.”

He’s surprised to receive a real answer, expecting you to give him an unconvincing “Everything’s fine” at the best and a “None of your fucking business” at the worst. Not many people actually answer hybrids, he’s learned since entering captivity. In the wild, where no one would dare dismiss a wolf hybrid, he was used to having his thoughts valued at the highest regard. However, the human world taught him quickly that hybrids weren’t meant to be talked to as equals—it will always be a master/pet relationship.

It's been a while since someone other than his packmates have earnestly asked for his opinion.

“Can’t you fire them if they don’t agree with you?”

You smile at him, but not the mocking “that’s a stupid idea” smile he’s used to with humans, but rather a sad “I wish it was that simple” smile.

“As much as it is my company on paper, my father still impacts a lot of the decisions I make. I can’t really fire them for stuff he doesn’t think 'important'. If I do, he’ll fly out to the next shareholder meeting at literal superspeed, I’m sure. If they don’t violate any major laws or policies, I basically have my hands tied. Just have to pretend everything is okay.”

The wolf’s features soften, weirdly understanding where you’re coming from. He feels the same, with his “Alpha” position holding no real value anymore. He’s only the leader of his pack on paper, but it’s you who provides for them. It’s you who they follow.

“That sounds really rough, especially having to pretend you’re okay when you’re not.” He doesn’t know what else to say. He wishes he could give you some genius solution that would prove to you how useful he is, but that’s all that comes out.

“We both do that well, don’t we? I think that’s why I’m drawn to you the most.”

It’s evident on Namjoon’s face that that’s the last thing he was expecting to hear from you—or from anyone really. If you should be drawn to anyone it should be Jungkook with his doe eyes and unadulterated innocence, or Hoseok with his irresistible charisma, or Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung with their soft and loving temperaments. Not him. Not him who’s rough and rigid and the least fun. Not him who does nothing but worry all day yet put up a front that he’s strong and in-charge.

“You seem surprised to hear that.”

“I’m usually not what people are drawn to.”

“People like us never are, are we? I wouldn’t tell my worries so candidly to most people you know, but I see so much of myself in you.”

People like us. Not pet and owner…both people.

Again, he doesn’t know what the right thing to say is.

____

A/N: Hope you are liking the story so far! Please interact if you can 💞 have a great rest of your day!! 🫶🏽

Permanent Taglist: @skyys-universe @morelovefortn @seagulljk

Series Taglist [CLOSED]: @welcometomyworld13 @kalala22 @fxirytaetae @btsfluffsworld @belikejk @shycreationdreamland @danielle143 @singukieee @blackrockshooter780 @g-b-artist @i-have-no-life-charlie @sopemee @no-regrets-just-confusion @acciocriativity @ldysmfrst @amara-mars @caelumwrites @estrellaburnxd @borahaetelevision @on-1ce @fuckthinking @jaiele

*If Tumblr doesn't let me tag you for some reason, I'll send you a DM instead!

#bts hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #poly ot7 #ot7 x reader #hurt/comfort #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #unnatural instincts

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7ndipity · 5 months

Text

Their S/o Has Depression

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How they would respond to their S/o having depression(or having had depression in the past)

Warnings: mentions of depressive episodes, not proofread

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this! I’ve actually thought about writing something about this several times, as it’s something I’ve dealt with for many years, but wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.

Reminder to anyone who needs to hear it that you are loved, you will be okay eventually, but it’s okay to not be okay right now. If you need anyone to talk/vent to, I’m here for you💜

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin: He would probably be really quiet when you first tell him, just trying to understand and take everything in. Tries to pay closer attention to your moods, and handles you a little softer on the days when you need it. He does his absolute most to make you smile everyday, even if it’s just for a second. He knows it doesn’t make the darkness go away, but sometimes those little moments of light are enough to get you through.

Yoongi: He’s also had his share of struggles with this in the past, so I feel like he might have picked up on some cues, but waited for you to bring it up when you were ready. He tries to subtly look out for you without being overbearing, checking in throughout the day and helping out where he can. Understands that some days you just need to be quiet and ride out the storm, so he’ll just lay with you, keeping a hand out for you to grab if you need it.

Hobi: It would hurt his heart so much to know you’ve gone through/are going through that kind of pain, but he would be so grateful that you trusted him enough to share your struggles with him. If it’s ongoing, he would be super attentive to your moods, trying to help out and support you in little ways wherever he can, whether that’s doing the dishes, making sure you’re eating properly, or just showing you funny videos he found online to make you laugh.

Namjoon: He’s been rather open about his own struggles with depression, so I think he’d be very understanding and sympathetic when you tell him. Very proactive about talking through whatever it is you’re feeling, even if you think it’s stupid or unimportant. Tries to get you to go out or take walks with him on better days, just to make sure you get some fresh air and sunlight regularly, and help make sure you're looking after your physical health as well as your mental.

Jimin: It would break his heart to realize that you struggled/are struggling with this, but his sole focus would become how to help/comfort you. He’s really empathetic, so he would pick up on every little shift in your moods. He understands that sometimes you just need to be reminded that you’re not alone, so he’ll just wrap himself around you on days when you can’t do much, holding you together till you can put the pieces back yourself.

Taehyung: As sad as he is to find out about your struggles, I feel like he’s really good at normalizing things like this without being dismissive, checking in with a number system or smth so you don’t have to talk if you don’t wanna(10’s good, 1’s bad) Has a way of saying the most comforting things in the simplest way(like when he reminded that one fan that she was already a good daughter just by existing). Will lay in bed with you on low days, talking about whatever comes to mind just to help distract you.

Jungkook: As soon as you tell him, he goes into protector mode. He can struggle sometimes to find the right words, so he tends to express his care more through actions. If you can’t bring yourself to clean your apartment, he’ll do it for you(while commentating to you as if it’s a talk show). If you need to just sleep, he’ll curl up with you and keep you safe. The type you can call at 2am cause you don’t wanna be alone, and he’s got his shoes on and out the door before you’ve finished talking.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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shanastoryteller · 8 months

Note

Happy Pride! Can I get some trans content<3

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45

He can’t be pregnant.

The curse mark on his arm tells him that he is living in this body on limited time. Eventually, he will die, the string keeping him inside Mo Xuanyu’s body snapping like a string and sending him back to wherever she summoned him from.

He’d let himself forget, a little. The body he inhabits is so different than the one he woke up in. He’s made her stronger, grown her golden core into a fearsome thing, worked and worked muscles until they swelled and hardened.

It had begun to feel like it belonged to him, liked he’d carved his body from Mo Xuanyu’s. The differences from his old body hadn’t felt important, and still don’t, it’s about how this is the body he worked for and made from the one given to him.

But Mo Xuanyu is dead and her body isn’t his to keep.

If he wants to have this baby, then he must betray Mo Xuanyu and her sacrifice. If he wants to bring Lan Zhan’s baby into the world, he cannot kill Jin Guangshan.

Completing the mission she retrieved him for will sever the connection and he will die again and so will the life he’s growing.

His only hope is that maybe, maybe the thread binding him here will hold long enough for him to both deliver this child and kill Jin Guangshan.

He looks from Jiang Yanli to Jiang Cheng, their fierceness and determination the closest he’s felt to home in a long time. He shouldn’t be letting them do this, shouldn’t be sinking into the comfort of their protectiveness when they think he’s someone he’s not, but he can’t help it. It makes him feel even sadder for Xuanyu, to think that they would have done this for her, if only she’d let them. Hadn’t Jiang Yanli reached out to him that very first day while he was a confused and terrified mess? And here she is now, offering to shield him from his husband, offering to help Mo Xuanyu choose her own path and either continue the pregnancy or have it end here.

He takes a deep breath, trying to stem the flow of his tears. Jiang Cheng’s hands on his shoulders feel like the only thing keeping him in place, like he’s pressing Wei Wuxian’s spirit into place in Xuanyu’s body.

He presses a hand against his stomach, thinking of the life shifting in his womb as the first lotuses that had sprouted from muddy mountainside. If he could grow flowers in the burial mounds, he can grow a child in a borrowed body.

But does he want to?

This isn’t what he’s here for. The best case scenario is that he leaves Lan Zhan behind to raise a child alone, the husband and child of the woman who murdered a clan leader. The worst case is he leaves Lan Zhan behind to mourn a wife and child and he dies without avenging the wrongs done against Mo Xuanyu. Or he can end this here, remove the potential child from the equation and kill Jin Guangshan as subtly as possible, something he has the time to arrange when he isn’t pushing his connection to this world to the brink. Then Lan Zhan will only be the widower rather than the husband of a murderer.

There are no good choices.

But he’s used to that.

He breathes in, holding it at the top of his lungs and letting out slowly.

A-Yuan had been the brightest light in the burial mounds. Anytime he wavered, aching for the life and the people he left behind, it wasn’t Wen Qing or Wen Ning of Granny who hardened his resolve once more, but A-Yuan.

He’d loved being a parent. He’d wished he really could grow siblings for A-Yuan like he’d grown turnips.

Wei Wuxian’s legacy is one of failure, of loss, of destruction. All those he tried to protect fell. All those he had protected turned against him. The last thing he will do on this earth is kill again, even if it is a man who has earned it.

He does not want to leave behind a legacy of only terrible things.

It could all end horribly. But he’s always been foolish enough to hope for better than he has.

He finally meets Jiang Cheng’s steady gaze.

“I’ll talk to Wangji.”

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #untamed

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asksythe · 11 months

Note

Is there any cultural significance or reasoning for Xiao Xingchen giving both his eyes to Song Lan, instead of just one?

I can certainly see there being plot and/or thematic reasons for it (like it makes a better parallel with Wei Wuxian who couldn’t give just half his golden core; it’s necessary for Xiao Xingchen to be completely blind for the Yi city tragedy to play out as it did; etc.) but I’m wondering if there is more to it then that.

Your insights on other bits of MDZS lore have been really interesting!

That’s a tough question. The short answer is: yes. It’s a cultural thing.

The longer answer is that I’m not sure I can adequately answer your question... because I feel that I'm not qualified. It goes deep. This is reaching the DNA of Chinese culture and the value system itself. I would say it’s probably better if you read more Chinese classics or immerse yourself in the culture. This is one of those things that are immensely difficult to put into words. The best way is to experience it.

But since you asked me, I’m going to at least give it a try.

The reason that Xiao Xingchen gave both eyes to Song Lan and the true root of the Yi City tragedy includes three different cultural concepts: Jishi 济世 (the Chinese ideal of saving the world), Enyuan Yinguo 恩怨因果 (Karma and Karmic Debts), and the quest to find Dao 道 (truth).

1/ Jishi 济世

济世 Jishi is a Chinese term denoting a philosophical ideal pursued by certain classes or castes of people since ancient times in China. It means to sacrifice and save the world. It’s self-sacrificial heroism in the most ideal and purest sense of the concept, similar to our modern-day Doctors without Borders.

This is Xiao Xingchen’s higher calling, his chosen purpose. Xiao Xingchen came down from Baoshan Sanren’s mountain at 17 years old with one purpose: to make the world a better place. He rejected no one who needed his help. He went out of his way to reject the invitations from the cultivator Houses to join their ranks and enjoy the wealth and privilege it might bring because he didn’t want to be distracted from a higher calling.

Using modern Western vernacular, Xiao Xingchen is a hero. That’s his religion and identity. That’s on top of a personality that already holds high self-responsibility. So is there any wonder he feels he’s responsible for Song Lan’s loss and must give Song Lan both eyes?

2/ Enyuan Yinguo 恩怨因果

恩怨 En Yuan. Yuan is resentment, spite, hatred, grudge. But En is a lot harder to nail down in English. It’s commonly translated as favor, but ‘favor’ has none of the cultural weight and encoded social obligation of En. The pure meaning of En is ‘a good deed done from the heart.’ A kindness. A mercy. A gift.

For example, Jiang Fengmian taking Wei Ying into Jiangshi is En. Wen Ning saving Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying is En. Wen Ning reclaiming Jiang Fengmian and Yu Furen’s corpses and artifacts is En. Big En, comparable rebirthing an entire household. Wen Ruohan teaching Zhao Zhuli (later on known as Wen Zhuliu) and granting him a chance to prove himself is also En. Nie Mingjue doing the same to Jin Guangyao is the same level of En (granting critical knowledge and opportunity to completely change one’s life). Jin Guangyao taking in Lan Xichen and hiding him from Wen pursuers before the Sunshot campaign is En.

因果 Yinquo = Karmic Bonds, the fruits that bloom from the seeds one sow. It’s also understood as a link between people’s life. Our lives collide, intertwine, and diverge like threads on a tapestry. We are each bound to each other by the threads of Karma and our debt to each other. This is yinguo.

There is a deep-seated belief in China that a person’s life is a ledger. To live is to constantly add to and take away from the ledger. When other people perform En for you, that means you take from their ledger and add to yours. When someone takes from your ledger, a yuan/grudge is born. From the moment you were born, you were granted the greatest of En, the gift of life from your parents.

In Chinese culture, it’s believed that one must try one’s best to square the ledger. One must repay En and reclaim Yuan. Entangled Enyuan eventually leads to tangled Yinguo, and that’s just a big headache nobody wants because it directly impacts your afterlife, your next life, your descendants, and sometimes even your ancestors that are already dead.

To strive your best to repay En is seen as a virtue. Of course, not everyone is capable or even wants to reach this ideal. Like when we say it’s good to be honest, but being truly and completely honest in daily life is… a task, shall we say. Sometimes, it’s very hard to truly repay what you owe. And sometimes, your Enyuan with a person or with a House is so entangled that it’s either hard to really say who owes who, or hard to admit to the fact that you are the one in the reds.

You are seeing parallels between Xiao Xingchen and Wei Wuxian because they both embody this ideal to the extreme. Both would take it upon themselves to repay. Xiao Xingchen paid with his eyes. Wei Wuxian repaid Jiang Fengmian’s En by giving Jiang Cheng his jindan, helped Jiang Cheng rebuild Jiang Shi using Guidao (Path of the Dead), gave up all his war achievements for the rebuilding of Jiangshi and left Jiangshi without a penny to his name despite being a major contributor to victory, and then… repaid Wen Ning, Wen Qing’s En to Jiang Cheng and Jiangshi in Jiang Cheng’s place when the other didn’t.

In some ways, you can say that both Xiao Xingchen and Wei Wuxian are flawed in that they underestimate their own value and well-being and overestimate what other people do for them. You can even say that they are foolish because they pay for En that isn’t theirs to pay, and that eventually leads to their suffering and death. But this is just the kind of people they are. They are true idealists who genuinely believe in a Truth greater than mortal squabbles. They are pure, uncorrupted Daoists, the kind that holds the founding precepts of Daoism in their heart.

In the novel, there are many examples of different people and how they see Enyuan Yinguo and how much value they put in them.

We have Su Se, who was saved by Wei Wuxian twice but didn’t even acknowledge it. Instead, he saw that as a Yuan because he probably hated the fact that it showed how weak and insignificant he was. Yet Jin Guangyao merely remembered his name and gave him some support to create his House, and he was willing to be Jin Guangyao’s attack dog, going so far as to abandon his own House members in Fuma Cave when Jin Guangyao’s plan failed and using his life to buy time for Jin Guangyao in Guanyin temple.

We also have Jiang Cheng, who was well aware that he owed Wen Ning and Wen Qing, but didn’t want to acknowledge it because he was poisoned with trauma and hatred at the hands of Wen Chao and felt that because of his relationship with Wei Ying, he was entitled to Wen Ning’s En. And yet he is rational enough to understand that admitting to owing this ginormous En and not repaying it is a huge stigma on House Jiang, and so even when he answered Nie Mingjue, confirming that the Wen remnants did have En with him, he answered in such a way that downplayed the enormity of En. Answering truthfully would have exonerated Wei Wuxian and the Wen remnants because the laws regarding Enyuan are so foundational that no one could have blamed the Jiang for saving the Wen remnants. But answering truthfully would have been admitting to his owing the Wen, setting House Jiang against House Jin, and turning House Jiang into a target of ridicule for other Houses because such an En should have been paid long before Wei Wuxian had to take drastic measures and jailbroke the Wen remnants from Quiongqi Path.

We also have Lan Xichen, who effectively compromised his entire House and compromised his own judgment because he saw Jin Guangyao as having granted him a huge En (which is not wrong, per se).

And then we have Jin Guanyao, who killed both people who bestowed En on him (Wen Ruohan and Nie Mingjue both gave Jin Guangyao critical knowledge, opportunities, and elevated him above his station. And yet when it came to Lan Xichen, despite his effectively pushing the Lan to death in the second Burial Mound Siege, Jin Guangyao still acted like Lan Xichen was in the wrong for not paying Jin Guangyao’s En even more than he already had.

Then finally, look at these Enyuan and consider the way it binds the various characters in both good and bad ways.

So it’s a deeply embedded and very nuanced concept that manifests differently in different characters.

3/ The Quest for Truth 道 Dao:

Dao/Tao 道: the truth, the path, the knowledge, the faith, the ideal, the natural order of the universe, that from which everything comes and that from which everything returns.

What does Dao have to do with Xiao Xingchen?

Well, because Xiao Xingchen is a Daoist. Remember when he reminded A-Quing to address him as Daozhang? That.

He’s not the only Daoist in MDZS, either. The man who created Dao as a philosophy and spirituality, Laozi, is also the man who created the concept of cultivation in the first place. So every single cultivator in MDZS, indeed every single cultivator in xianxia genre, treads in Laozi’s footsteps, takes from his wisdom, and stands on his shoulders in their quest for heavens.

The first sentence in Laozi’s definitive work on Dao, the Tao Te Ching, says:

‘Dao that can be told is not Dao. Truth that can be named is not truth. Path that can be walked is not the right Path.’

The Tao Te Ching is a foundational Chinese Classic. It is the shortest but also the most complex and hard to understand.

This first verse of the Tao Te Ching means: truth is not something that is fixed. Truth is nuanced. Knowledge is not something that can be given to you by words only. You must find this knowledge by yourself. Path is not something that anyone else can tell you. Your path must be walked by your own feet. Faith is not something that can given to you by someone else. You must find faith in yourself.

So then, apply this sentence to Xiao Xingchen’s journey. Do you see it? Xiao Xingchen choosing Jishi is his journey to find and prove his Dao. Jishi is Xiao Xingchen’s Dao.

Yi City is not a tragedy. Yi City is Xiao Xingchen’s tribulation and the unavoidable consequences of choosing to remain pure to the founding precepts of Dao while the rest of the cultivator Houses, including Nie and Lan, have long betrayed their origin.

Even if, by some miracle, Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen never entangled with each other, there will always be a Xi City or a Zi City for Xiao Xingchen. Because it is a consequence and a price to pay to find the truth that he desires. And he did find that truth. Song Lan, who he had left in a decisive gesture of severing their Karmic Bond, returned and would likely spend decades if not centuries walking Xiao Xingchen’s path, waiting for the day Xiao Xingchen awoke. And A-Qing never left Xiao Xingchen, never gave up on him either.

Ugghh, such a heavy topic. I usually don't like to write too much on such topics because... it's hard to write and it's hard to read, and most people don't really have the patience to read. But it is a question. So I tried. In any case, have this fanart I commissioned from Nguyen Linh.

#ask sythe #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #xiao xingchen #song zichen #song lan

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riaarivic · 5 months

Text

HIS - KNJ x F!reader: 2 Clean

💗Pairings idol!NamjoonxReader

💗 Genres idol!AU, Smut, Angst, Romance, Enemies to lovers

💗 Rating 18+ minors DNI

💗 Summary Four years have passed since the last time you saw Kim Namjoon. But now he was right in front of you, with the same stupid warm smile that made your good judgment (and underwear) disappear without a trace. You haven't seen him for four years. But now here you were working for BTS again. Having to see his insufferably attractive face every day of your life again.

But there's something Namjoon doesn't know. The little girl with almond eyes and dimples in her smile clinging to his ex-girlfriend's hip, not only looked too much like him. But she was… His.

💗 Warnings for the chapter: reader has very conflictive emotions about the news of her pregnancy at the begining. This chapter will have some back and forth time skips, miscommunications, pinning, SO MUCH PINNING, Hurt/comfort.

💗 A/N: ⚠️ dialogue in BOLD is intended to be in English if not, they are speaking in Korean. ⚠️

Love, Ria

💗 Chapter wordcount 4,8k

💗 Series index: 1 2

“The drought was the very worst, ah-ah. When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst It was months and months of back and forth, ah-ah, ah-ah. You're still all over me like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore” -Taylor Swift

💗💗💗MARCH 2021💗💗💗

Your daughter, Hana.

Amid the rapid-fire questions echoing in Namjoon's head, his pulse raced as you introduced the unexpected star of the show—

Who had just barged into the already tense conference room.

Like a small– But charming tornado.

"Everyone, this is my daughter, Hana. Baby, say hi; they will work with mommy." You said sitting her on your lap.

"Hello, I’m Hana. I’m Three years old.” Hana greeted, her innocence oozing charm.

She spoke korean.

That made Namjoon smile.

Cute.

"Baby Hana, do you know who we are?" Jimin asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

She nodded. Did she?

"You are Jimin, Jk, V, Jin, J-Hope, Suga, and… Rap Monster?” Hana’s innocent attempt earned laughter from everyone.

Everyone but Namjoon.

He halted what he was doing, a sudden realization hitting him like a ton of bricks.

She was three years old.

And she looked like him.

Too much like him.

“She’s so polite!” Jimin exclaimed.

“That’s so cute!” chimed in V.

“Are you an army, baby Hana?” Jin inquired, curious.

“No,” Hana replied. “I like Seventeen more.” Jin's shocked expression made everyone burst with laughter.

“Oh! But we’re cooler than them!” Jin tried to protest.

“I’m sorry; she has her interests, and right now, she’s obsessed with Wonwoo from Seventeen.” you tried to explain. But Seokjin was already about to get into a fight with a three year old to prove that, In fact, BTS were much cooler.

Not that Namjoon had a problem with Seventeen.

But he considered himself objectively cooler than them.

He stopped mid thought. Why the hell is he caring so much of what a toddler thought?

"Hana! Here you are!" A tall man with glasses emerged, breaking the charm of the moment. "We apologize for the interruption. Our Hana tends to run too fast. I am Eric Lee, Stardom’s chief financial operator and Y/N’s husband," he added, the unnecessary detail sending a ripple through the room.

The oblivious members resumed their excitement, but Namjoon felt like a computer crashing and about to explode. The mathematical calculations in his head were on the brink of causing a stroke.

If Namjoon's eyes could kill, Eric would be a bloody stain on the floor. Jealousy surged within him, a feeling he knew he didn't deserve.

But your daughter, she was three.

That meant you met this person around the same time you broke up.

You surely moved fast.

The Eric guy apologized again and took Hana from your arms to take her outside. She smiled at everyone and waved goodbye.

Her dimpled smile made Namjoon’s heart do a somersault.

The meeting continued as if background noise, but Namjoon's focus shifted to you, studying your face. That girl, she looked too much like him and nothing like this whoever-I-don’t-care guy.

It couldn't be possible.

He admitted he hurt you. But you would never do that to him.

Right?

If that girl was his.

You would have told him.

But he looked too much like him.

And he needed to talk to you.

💗💗💗FEBRUARY 2017💗💗💗

The conference room hummed with tension.

As the team gathered for a crucial meeting on the North American leg of their Wings Tour. Namjoon, the usually composed leader, wore a furrowed brow and an air of defiance. The discussion centered around their press schedules.

Namjoon's frustration boiled over as he voiced his stance, "I won't be a clown for them. We're artists. I won't subject the group to this circus. Where the only thing they ask us if we had ever eaten a hamburger"

You, seated across the table, shot him an incredulous look.

"Namjoon, we can't afford to cut the press schedules. If we want BTS to break into the mainstream music market, we need exposure. Press appearances are non-negotiable."

He scoffed, "Exposure won't matter if they don't take us seriously. I won't compromise our art for popularity."

The heated exchange drew the attention of the other members and the managers.

This was the third time this week.

And the main managers were starting to think if you were worht all this tenssion.

But you did get them an appearance on the three main late night shows in the US for their tour promotion.

So you two had to learn to get along.

The room crackled as you shot back, "This is not about compromising your art, Namjoon. It's about strategic promotion. We need the media to understand and appreciate you, all of you."

Namjoon's eyes flashed with anger, and just as the confrontation seemed to reach its peak, J-Hope intervened.

"I think it's enough. This is about the success of the group. We'll do what it takes to keep BTS in the public eye, and that includes press appearances."

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the decision sinking in.

Yoongi, who had remained quiet, finally spoke up. "I get where Namjoon is coming from, but we have to adapt to the market. If this is what it takes, then we'll do it. And Namjoon, you have Y/N's support. She won't let us down."

You nodded, your frustration simmering beneath the surface. The resolution hung in the air as the team grudgingly agreed to move forward with the press schedules.

The future of BTS in the North American market now rests on the delicate balance between you and him.

And none of you would give the other the satisfaction of a win.

After the intense meeting, you needed a moment to decompress. So you headed to the lounge to join the stylist crew for lunch.

The atmosphere was more relaxed here, a welcome change from the tension in the conference room. The aroma of delicious foods filled the air as you settled at the table with your colleagues.

As you unwrapped your lunch, the stylist crew delved into a gossip session.

“Y/N-ssi, Do You know Ha-young? She’s from the makeup team” You nodded. “She just confessed to PD-nim that she caught one-sided feelings with one of the members” the younger stylist said leaning closer to you “Bad girl. She should have known better”

“My money is on Jimin” one of them said and the others giggled. You couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for the girl who had just lost her job.

Their director was unforgiving.

Just like they have told you on your first day here. Having any type of personal relationship with any of the members was the cardinal sin.

Poor Ha-young, was going to be blacklisted from the industry, a harsh punishment for what was deemed reckless and unprofessional behavior.

Listening to the gossip, you couldn't help but shake your head.

The idea of jeopardizing your career for a simple crush seemed both reckless and foolish.

As the chatter continued, you found yourself silently reaffirming your commitment to keeping personal and professional boundaries intact.

That will never be you.

💗💗💗NOVEMBER 2019💗💗💗

“I am really sorry, doll,”

Yoongi murmured, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

“I don’t understand anything that’s happening,” you admitted, the weight of the situation heavy on your shoulders. You patted Hana’s back as she slept peacefully unaware of the deep wound on her mother’s heart.

One that you would have to mend.

To have the strength to raise a child…

By yourself.

“You know it takes time for him to wrap his head around things. He’ll know better, give him time,” Yoongi offered, his voice reflecting a hint of confusion and frustration with Namjoon's actions.

“I wish I had that luxury, Yoongi. But she’s here. She’s alive, she needs things. I can’t just go and say that I need time. She needs a parent… Both of us.” Yoongi sighed, understanding the gravity of the situation.

“I considered it, you know? Not Having her” your heart sank confessing this for the first time outloud “But, I guess I was selfish, and I resent myself for it. The selfish side of me wanted to at least have this. But she’s so much more than just us. She’s so special.”

“I can see that,” he replied, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You hate babies, Min,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“This one’s alright. She’s a part of you too. And that makes her special.”

“I’m scared,” you confessed, vulnerability seeping into your words.

“I know, doll,” Yoongi reassured, his tone softening.

“I don’t know if I can be a good mom to her. I can’t do this alone.”

“First of all, you are not alone. Second of all, you are the most capable, hardworking, and kind person I’ve met. It’s going to be fucking hard? Yes, I’ll not sugarcoat it. But you got this.”

“I want to punch him in the face so much.” You felt the first tears start to fall from your eyes.

“I know, doll. Me too,” Yoongi admitted, the unspoken understanding between you two creating a bond of shared frustration and support.

Yoongi placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his gaze filled with both empathy and frustration. "Look, Y/N, I know Namjoon, and this is so unlike him. We've been through everything together for more than ten years, and he's not the type to turn away from responsibilities. There has to be something else going on."

Your eyes filled up with tears again, a mixture of sadness and anger. "I just don't understand why he sent his mother, with an envelope full of money instead of facing us himself. It feels like he's treating us like a burden."

Yoongi's expression hardened, a rare sight for someone known for his calm demeanor. "He messed up big time, and he needs to face the consequences. You and Hana deserve better."

"I thought he loved me. I thought we meant something to each other," you confessed, your voice cracking.

"He does, Y/N. I can't explain his actions, but I've never seen him act this way. Whatever it is, he needs to sort it out. Meanwhile, you focus on being the amazing mother I know you can be."

Tears spilled down your cheeks, and Yoongi pulled you into a tight embrace. "I'm here for you, Y/N. We all are. BTS isn't just about the stage; we're a family and both of you are a part of it. Families stick together, no matter what."

As you let out a shaky breath, a mixture of gratitude and sadness, you whispered, "Thank you, Yoongi."

"Anytime, doll. You’ve got this," he reassured, his words carrying a promise of solidarity and support. The hotel room, once filled with the weight of uncertainty, now held a glimmer of hope amid the storm of emotions.

You’ve got this.

You had to.

💗💗💗MARCH 2017💗💗💗

They just got nominated to an international award.

Everyone else was celebrating their milestone.

But Namjoon just couldn't enjoy it as much as he wanted to.

He was happy.

For the first time in his life he felt like they were finally receiving the praise they deserved for their art and their hard work.

But the weight of their public persona and the fine lines they could never cross as idols in Korea, was growing heavier by day. And the endless possibilities of major exposure scared the fuck out of him.

They were on their six date of the tour when he felt like he was going to die.

The air backstage in Newark was thick with the aftermath of Namjoon's exhaustion-fueled breakdown.

You found him leaning against a wall, a cigarette between his fingers. He couldn’t hide the trembling of his hands.

"That's an awful habit you have right there," you commented, eyeing the smoke.

"I can say the same to you," he retorted, nodding at the Coca-Cola can in your hand. "What can I say, everyone picks their own poison." you smiled at him honestly. For the first time.

Surprisingly, it led to the first civil conversation between you two.

You leaned against the wall beside him, sipping your cola, the fizz providing a rhythmic contrast to the quiet.

He broke the silence, "You know, sometimes I feel like I'm just a puppet, dancing to whatever tune the media plays."

"It’s okay to feel tired sometimes, you know?" you offered.

"I do, but being their leader and their spokesperson. I can’t afford to be nervous or too tired," Namjoon admitted. "I speak for myself in these interviews. It is a huge weight on my shoulders to speak for everyone. Sometimes they might not agree with what I’m saying."

"Yeah, I reckon Panda Express being your favorite restaurant in America is a pretty controversial opinion," you teased, earning a hearty laugh from him.

"Do you think they are going to ever take us seriously?" he asked with a laugh and a touch of desperation.

"They better do. You guys will own this industry one day."

He shot you a grateful smile, and for a moment, the weight on his shoulders seemed to ease.

"That is a pretty controversial opinion. I am a 'what’s your favorite American food' away from literally losing it," he confessed.

"You know," you began, changing the topic with a playful grin, "I think your controversial opinions are what make you more human to your fans. They love you for being real."

Namjoon chuckled, the tension dissipating. "Maybe I should start a blog—'Kim Namjoon's Unfiltered Thoughts.'"

"You might break the internet with that," you joked, enjoying the rare camaraderie.

As the conversation lightened, you both shared a laugh, finding solace in this unexpected connection. The backstage chaos seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of understanding.

"You'll do fine. You always do," you reassured him.

"Thank you."

As a friendly gesture, you pulled a small disinfectant from your pocket.

"Manager Sejin was looking for you; you better use this before he finds you. You don't want him scolding you for the smell." you said before turning away to head back inside.

Namjoon chuckled, taking the disinfectant. "Thanks, Y/N. For being here."

"Anytime, Joon," you replied, the use of the nickname a testament to the newfound camaraderie

He smiled, and the scent of the disinfectant mixed with your fragrance, like flowers in the air.

As Namjoon walked away, disappearing into the backstage hustle, he took a moment to collect his thoughts.

"Y/N!" A familiar voice called out, it was Sejin, the ever-watchful manager, threading through the maze of crew members and equipment.

You approached him, noting the stern expression on his face. "Mr. Sejin, you were looking for Namjoon?"

He nodded, "Yes, he needs to wrap up the interviews and rest. The schedule is tight, and we can't afford any delays."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness toward Namjoon. "He's doing his best, Sejin. But he's human, not a machine."

Namjoon was about to walk to where you were but that coment made him freeze on his feet.

Sejin sighed, his stern expression softening. "I know, Y/N. I just worry about them all. The pressure is immense."

"It is, but moments like these," you gestured to the chaotic backstage, "it is good remind them that they're not alone."

He offered a small smile, appreciating the sentiment. "You're right. Well, let's make sure Namjoon gets some rest."

As you both navigated the backstage maze, you didn’t know he listened to the conversation. And he couldn't shake off the unexpected warmth that had emerged from the brief encounter with you.

The chaotic world of stardom was vast, but in that moment, a connection had formed—one that hinted at the resilience and humanity behind the larger-than-life personas.

Maybe you weren’t that bad.

💗💗💗AUGUST 2020💗💗💗

You had gone to a therapist when Hana was one.

The therapist's office had become a sanctuary for you, you needed guidance on the hard task of being a single mother to Hana.

She was going to ask the inevitable questions about her father one day. And you needed to know what to say. But no amount of therapy could have prepared yourself for this day.

Hana was smart, too smart for her age.

And when you came back from a playdate at her friends house.

She wanted answers to her questions.

"Why don't I have a daddy?"

You two were back in her room getting ready to sleep and you knew that question was coming.

You took a deep breath as you sat next to her, trying to find the right words. "All families are different, baby. Some have a mommy and a daddy. Some have two mommies or two daddies. Some, like ours, have a mommy and all your uncles and aunts. Isn't that fun?"

"It is fun," she replied, but the dissatisfaction lingered in her eyes. She had more questions, and you knew your initial answer wasn't enough.

And now she discovered kpop.

And she was obsessed with it.

You felt like throwing up everytime you saw him on your screen.

The bitter reminder that she deserved to know the truth. However, you weren't ready to shatter the illusion just yet. Telling anyone that her father was the leader of the biggest music group in history seemed unbelievable.

You knew how crazy you will sound.

Even your therapist had a hard time believing your story the first time you went to her.

But, your daughter was the living image of her father.

And you had shown her your old Big Hit contract for her to finally believe you.

"So I don’t have a dad?" Hana's expectant eyes pleaded for an honest answer.

"You do have one. He is living his dream, making millions of people happy," you stammered, your hands trembling as you combed her hair. Even though Hana was still a child, she sensed the discomfort and wisely chose not to press the topic any further—for today.

Later that night, as if the universe mocked you, he appeared on your TV screen. "I want to be a dad," he confessed to the interviewer, his smile was radiant as always. It felt like a punch to your stomach, the wine glass slipping from your hand and staining the new rug.

Fuck him.

He was a dad. He just chose not to be one.

The fandom even had the joke that he had a hidden wife and kids.

You entertained thoughts of shattering his public image, creating rumors that could strip away the disarming smile he flaunted. But the truth was, you could never inflict that pain on your daughter.

As the wine stain marred your rug, you vowed to shield Hana from the harsh realities as long as you could. But beneath your composed exterior, a storm of emotions raged.

Just for a little longer.

She will soon be old enough to understand.

But you didn't look forward breaking her heart with the news that her father didn't want her in his life.

💗💗💗FEBRUARY 2018💗💗💗

Everyone was tense.

The word disbandment floated heavily on the air.

After this morning’s team meeting things were pretty rough.

They were tired.

They felt like nothing was working in their favor.

Some of the members wanted a break.

Some of them wanted to keep going.

He had to remain unbiased.

You knew how unfair it was.

For him and for all of them.

Message from NJ: meet me upstairs. studio.

You knew what that meant.

He wanted to fuck the frustration away.

And you would be lying if you said you didn’t want to.

This was the riskiest thing you've ever done yet. You knew how dangerous it was for you especially. You were breaking your own rule and you were being careless.

You knew perfectly well what were the consecuences of what you were doing.

But you couldn’t get to care enough to stop you from hurriedly hitting the lock combination of his Studio.

His tired eyes greeted you. And a second later you were pinned to the wall behind you, hands everywhere and not enough at the same time.

And you wanted to ignore how much it hurt you that you were just this to him.

A relief.

“I missed this” he whispered against your lips. His tounge tasting your lower lips. Wanting to savour everything before devouring it all at once.

You missed it too.

But you were too stubborn to say it outloud.

And he was too, trying to pretend that he missed this whatever you had going on.

Instead of just you.

As always it started like a fight for dominance. His kisses carrying a hunger that transcended mere physical release. The urgency in his touch revealed a deeper need, one he was too stubborn to acknowledge.

Namjoon steps between your thighs and you can feel how much he needed this. His body is warm against yours as he lowers his lips to kiss down the column of your neck.

"You smell so good" you feel the soft breeze of his breath against your skin. And before you could reciprocate his words you felt the sharp pain of his teeth biting the same spot of your skin he just kissed a second ago.

"Namjoon-" a small whisper leaves your lips and a wave of conflicted feelings wash over his body.

He wanted to drown the world around you.

Where only the two of you existed.

And that scared him.

How much he really needed you.

He lifted you, his grip momentarily loosing his balance, and both of you erupted into laughter as you tumbled onto the sofa. "I'm so sorry," he said, his eyes holding a vulnerability that surpassed the laughter. "I'm just... I'm so tired."

His heart was breaking.

With a gentle smile, you cupped his cheek, your thumb wiping away his tears. "It’s okay, Joonie. Everything is going to be okay."

Your words rendered him defenseless. He was so tired of pretending he didn’t feel safe in your arms. He wrapped his arms around you and you could feel his body trembling with sobs.

He called you to fuck his frustration out of his system.

Just like you’ve been doing for a few months now.

But now on his studio floor he had a realization he wasn’t ready to confess just yet.

Everything else he had been saying to himself about you was a lie.

How he didn’t care; that you were just a passing crush. That he was too tired and too frustrated and that you both enjoyed each other’s company. That you were only good sex to him.

All of that was a lie.

As he kept crying and hugging you on his studio floor.

Both of you came to the same conclusion silently.

This wasn’t just sex; friends-with-benefits secret thing you had going on.

It was something much more complicated.

Something that could potentially destroy you.

The two of you stayed in silence on the floor, still wrapped on each other's arms.

That was the moment Namjoon realized.

He called you for sex.

But he just needed you.

💗💗💗MARCH 2021💗💗💗

A Battleground.

The room felt like it had become a battleground of emotions, the air thick with tension as memories and unspoken words lingered between you and Namjoon.

Right after the briefing ended he had dragged you into a conference room. It had been a week since you had met again and they were preparing to go back to Korea.

He was a sound man now. Not the youg man almost teenager that would have rushed into conclusions. First he needed to make his own research.

Have a few conversations with people.

Because he would never outlive the embarrasment if he was wrong.

But, all Namjoon could find was that Hana was your daughter and not your husband's.

And now you were alone for the first time in Three years, the silence was deafening, the unspoken history between you threatening to consume the room.

In the past, when you were alone with him, confessions of love had been whispered like forbidden promises against your lips in a conference room.

Just like the one you were in.

Today, his gaze was intense, his movements calculated, as if he were dissecting the reality before him. The little girl playing outside in your office seemed like a mirage, a cruel joke that fate had played on both of you.

Namjoon's stare bore into you, and the atmosphere crackled with the spark of four years of unsaid words. Finally, the tension shattered like glass as he spat out,

"Is she mine?"

His voice, sharp and accusatory, slashed through the heavy air.

A small, bitter part of you considered lying, but the futility of it hung in the air.

He knew, yet he chose to ignore it.

"Yes, Namjoon, she's your daughter," your voice strained, attempting to retain a semblance of control. "Her name is Hana Lee."

Two heartbeats passed, revealing a Namjoon you no longer recognized.

The man before you had become a diplomat, his mind working to carefully choose his words, concealing emotions you once knew he wore on his sleeve.

He was deflecting, you knew what he was doing.

You trained him to do that, long ago when you worked with them.

He was controlling his real emotions and speaking like at a press conference.

Another heartbeat passed and a spark of genuine emotion broke through when the reality of his daughter's existence sank in.

"Lee?"

His voice began to fill with an anger simmering beneath the surface, like molten lava fighting its way to the top of a volcano. "My husband’s last name," you retorted, your tone flat, a facade of control slipping away.

"You gave another man's last name to my daughter" his eyes darkened in disbelief and you couldn't help but chuckle at his nonsense.

If he was going to be this cruel.

You could play the game just as well.

You both were used to tearing each other into pieces anyway.

"You weren't there to give her yours, so." your voice sounded even more cynical than you expected to.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Namjoon's jaw clenched, frustration etched across his features.

A bitter chuckle escaped your lips. “Did you expect a wedding invite?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I meant… the fact that I have a daughter.” he growled the last sentence through his teeth.

So much for calm and collected.

"Oh, but I tried," you shot back, frustration bubbling over. "Got on a plane for sixteen hours with a baby on my lap. Only to be warmly welcomed by your mother and Sejin with an envelope full of money and the threat to take her from me. What was I supposed to do?"

Namjoon's eyes narrowed in disbelief. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't remember. Let me refresh your memory, shall we?" Bitterness laced your words. "You sent your mother and your manager to tell me that having an unplanned child out of wedlock would have 'destroyed you and Bangtan,' that you were so very sorry and told me to disappear"

He was about to speak but you didn't let him. All the things you have wanted to say for four years started to flow out of you like a dam that had just broken.

And the water would destroy everything on its way.

Starting with the both of you.

"They said you didn't want anything to do with us. And that if I ever came back, they would take Hana away from me. That I was just a minor mistake, an experience you just needed to have'' Anger surged within you. "Riding the horse isn't what you call it, right? And that my daughter was just the consequence of my own carelessness. That I should have known better."

You didn't know when you started to shout and now you couldn't stop. You wanted him to hurt as much as you were. "You told them to tell me all that. Because you didn't have the balls to say it right to my face"

"Or maybe you just didn't give a fuck."

Namjoon's features shifted from confusion to a hint of regret. "“That didn’t… I didn’t... I would never have done that."

“You didn't do what?” You turned away, unable to look at him. "You can't just waltz in here and pretend like you didn’t know," you said, your voice cracking with rage. "You missed everything, Namjoon. She's so smart and kind. Even when she feels like there's a missing part from her"

“Y/n” his voice was barely a whisper as his finger touched your wrist, sending electric shockwaves through your body. “I was waiting for you, but you never came.”

“Bullshit.”

“I don’t understand what game you’re playing right now Kim Namjoon, but I’ll tell you something. It's over. I will not let you make fun of us anymore.” Your throat tightened, tears threatening to spill. “You left me a letter, remember? and the text message after that. 'I hope you understand,” you said, mocking his voice.

Your laughter was bitter, filled with the pain of betrayal. "You sent me away, Namjoon. I couldn't just come back after that."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I waited for you at the hotel. I called you so many times that day." he said, desperation lacing his voice. "I waited for hours and you never came. Do you really believe that I wouldn't have taken responsibility for my daughter? That I would send her away?" He was shouting now too.

And he was close, too close to you now. You could bear his presence from a distance.

But not this close.

This close to him you couldn't pretend that your heart wasn't breaking for him.

That you didn't miss his eyes.

"I don't know, Namjoon. When you have a child, a life to protect. You would do anything to keep them safe. From anyone and everything. Not that you would know any of that" The words slipped from you before you realized how low of a blow was that. But you couldn't find yourself regretting it.

"Because we both know what you would choose if it came between the group or us." You stopped and smiled at him bitterly "And I understand, Namjoon. I truly do. You were finally living the dream you sacrificed everything for. I don't blame you anymore for it."

"I understand" your voice cracked filled with sadness.

And you truly did.

You knew how much he sacrificed.

He fought for his success with teeth and nails.

They all did.

And you knew how unfair it would have been to ask for him to drop everything for you and your daughter.

You understood him.

And that was the worst of it.

In a heartbeat anger left his body, and he was filled with the weight of a shared past. Everything was too much, this was too much and again his mask fell just for you.

He lifted his hand to grab your wrist, the small contact of his skin with yours felt like fire runnig trough your veins.

"I loved you, and I always have," he confessed.

The room hung in tumultuous silence, the weight of past wounds and the rawness of the present colliding in a clash of emotions.

You were about to respond when a small knock echoed through the room.

The knock on the door startled both of you, a temporary interruption to the emotional storm that raged in the room. Your eyes never left Namjoon's, the intensity of the unspoken words lingering between you like a heavy fog.

Namjoon stepped back, breaking the physical connection between you. He cleared his throat, the diplomat persona returning, but the vulnerability in his eyes betrayed the turmoil within. "We're not done," he said, a mixture of command and plea in his voice.

As the door creaked open, your eyes darted to see a petite figure standing there, a shadow in the doorway. Hana's eyes mirrored yours, wide and uncertain as she looked between the two adults. The air thickened with tension, the past colliding with the present in a collision of conflicting emotions.

"Mommy?" Hana's innocent voice cut through the charged atmosphere. Her gaze shifted from you to Namjoon, her curiosity evident "Mr. Rapmonster. why are you here?". You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

Namjoon's eyes softened as he looked at Hana, and for a moment, the hardened exterior cracked. "I'm... a friend of your mommy's," he said, his words carefully chosen.

"A friend?" Hana repeated in Korean, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. She might be young, but she wasn't oblivious to the undercurrents in the room.

She was smart. Even for her age, and she was quick to understand the things that were in front of her.

Just like him.

You knelt down beside her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Yes, sweetheart, just a friend, and we were talking" you assured her, shooting a pointed glance at Namjoon. The distance between you felt like an unbridgeable chasm.

Namjoon, sensing the tension, attempted a reassuring smile, but it looked strained. "I heard you like drawing. Do you draw a lot?" he asked, trying to engage Hana in a conversation that felt more awkward than casual.

Hana nodded, her gaze never leaving Namjoon. "I like drawing flowers," she replied, the tension in the room momentarily diffusing as she shared a piece of her world.

Namjoon crouched down to her eye level, a genuine smile softening his features. "Flowers are beautiful. Maybe you can show me your drawings sometime?" he suggested.

Hana's eyes flickered between you and Namjoon, processing the complex dynamics in the room. "Okay, but only if Mommy says it's okay," she declared, a hint of protectiveness in her voice.

Namjoon glanced at you, seeking approval. You nodded slightly, acknowledging the silent agreement. Hana's presence had inadvertently shifted the focus, giving you a momentary reprieve from the emotional confrontation.

As Namjoon and Hana engaged in a tentative conversation about art and colors, you retreated to the periphery, watching the scene unfold.

The wounds of the past were still raw, the emotions tangled, but for Hana's sake, you found a fragile truce with the man who once held your heart.

The journey from enemies to reluctant allies had just begun, and the path ahead was uncertain, shrouded in the complexities of a shared history that demanded resolution.

"Y/N, we need to talk" Hyung-Joon reappeared at the door, his voice filled with urgency and you nodded.

You knew this shouting match with Namjoon would bring consequences.

And you felt for a second that you just stepped into the past.

"When I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe"

💗💗💗💗💗💗 Well hello there! First of all I am so, SO grateful for all the love this story is getting. It really means the world to me. Sincerely Thank you. With that beign said I want to leave a few notes for context and clarification. 1. This is a work of fiction, even if it is inspired by real events and real people. I will take creative licenses to make the storyline make sense. So, some things will be different as it happened IRL.

💗💗💗💗💗💗 Well hello!

First of all, THANK YOU. I am so happy to see all the love this story is getting and it means the world to me. Every comment, like and repost I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart.

And now, some notes for context:

This story is inspired on real events and people. But it is not a real representation or is trying to say that any of this happened IRL. With that beign said I'll take some creative licenses and adapt things that happened to the plot of the story.

2. I fucked up.... math is not my thing guys. Hana is three years old not four. Im sorry.

3. We all want a supportive friend like Yoongi in our lives.

4. The story is written in time skips, but the main storyline is March 2021 'The present'

I'm really exited for you guys to see what's next!!

Love,

Ria. 💗💗💗💗💗💗 TAG LIST: @felicityroth @cuteipat @jjinjo @mochimommy2002 @amarawayne @canarystwin Ps. If you want to be on the tag list drop a comment below!! 👩🏼‍💻✨

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts imagines #bts #bts au #bts namjoon #bts fic #namjoon smut #namjoon #rm #bts rm

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interesting-interludes · 2 years

Text

the comforts of creatures (1)

creature comforts:

↳ material/bodily comforts, such as food, warmth, or special accommodations, that contribute to physical ease and well-being

→ pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

→ genre: fantasy!au, soulmate!au, angst with a happy ending, fluff, hurt + comfort + recovery, eventual smut

→ word count: 2.1k

→ summary: you’re a prisoner here, but you can’t remember why. you can’t remember much of anything. not where you came from, not who you are, not even what you are. what happens when a pack of terrifying monsters breaks into the facility where you’re being held. not to kill you, but to...protect you?

→ content warnings: captivity (including forced sensory deprivation, effects of dehumanization), soul bond, violence, low self-worth, memory loss, protective!jin & jungkook

→ a/n: a completely self-indulgent hurt + comfort story that I wrote (and will most likely continue to write) in a frenzy because I wanted to read it :) if you’re excited to read more of this series please reblog and share your thoughts!!

series masterlist → next part

part 1: the rescue

Something seizes inside your chest. That’s the only word your sluggish brain can muster to describe it: something, foreign yet familiar at the same time.

After so many days—days? hours? weeks?—of feeling nothing but drowned sensations, it feels like a sledgehammer to the gut.

The sheer force of it wrenches a choked gasp from your lips, and it’s the loudest sound you’ve heard in a long while. One hand reaches up to clutch at your heart, the other gripping your forehead where a violent throbbing pounds at your skull.

The intensity makes you scramble along the stone floor until your back hits the wall, the only other thing in the room that can be used to ground you.

This...thing, it grips you harder than the cold, tighter than the hunger in the pit of your stomach.

Stinging tears brim in your eyes. Even though you’re alone in the room, something else, a deep something, tells you to choke them back before someone sees. Before the pain that always follows when you let them fall past your lids.

The thing feels like hope, desperate and burning white-hot. It feels like warmth and a sigh of relief.

It feels like something he would punish you for. Because things like you aren’t meant to feel things this good.

What sounds like an explosion reverberates through the thick concrete walls. The floor trembles. You can hear people screaming, guards shouting orders over the pound of footsteps.

The sensation in your chest continues to build, unbearably so, until the tendons in your lungs feel close to tearing.

The sound of shouting and fast footfalls begins to fade, moments later replaced by ones much louder, heavier, faster.

Gunshots in the distance, one after the other. Then a deafening roar. A nonhuman roar.

It’s all so loud. The noise presses against you from all angles, closing in until you can almost feel its weight.

You cup your hands around your ears, squeeze your eyes shut, curl into a pathetic ball but it still thuds in your head. Sharp and bruising and loud loud loud.

Not that you realize it, but you’ve been without light and sound for six days.

Your brain is slow to process what’s happening, struggling to make sense of the impossible.

Because he always said that no one knew they were there, that the wards were impenetrable. Even if someone got through the wards, who would be stupid enough to attack them at their own home base?

No one is coming for you, his voice slices through your thoughts. Why would anyone ever come looking for you? You are nothing.

The heavy footsteps draw closer, along with the sound of doors banging open.

You curl further into yourself, trying to block it all out. One of those disgusting creatures from the outside must have gotten in. It’s in their nature to seek blood and destruction, after all.

Maybe you’ll be lucky enough for a quick death. But...you’re not sure you deserve it.

You are nothing.

With a horrible creak of bending metal, the door is ripped off its hinges.

The sudden flood of light makes you flinch back and shield your face. The feeling in your chest thuds against your rib cage, like your heart is trying to escape your body.

You don’t move, can’t move. Not until a deep growl puts the fear of god in your bones.

It makes you peek through your fingers just enough to see what has caused the sudden flood of light.

The shape in the doorway is anything but human. Massive and powerful, it’s too big to be fully visible through the doorway. All you can see is four muscle-corded legs that end in clawed feet, trailing red behind them. The thing’s fur is matted with something dark and wet.

The creature bends down to peer into the room, exposing a skeletal head and sharp, dripping antlers.

You meet it’s black eyes, and something akin to recognition glints in the glassy surface. Your heart thuds almost painfully.

The creature tips it’s head back and howls, flashing several rows of wolf-like teeth.

It’s much too big to fit through the door, but it rams it’s head into it anyway. Distressed whimpers fall from it’s mouth as it bucks and charges at the wall. It dents the metal, desperate in it’s attempt to get to you.

Frozen. All you can do is shrink further into the corner of the room, closing your eyes and awaiting the inevitable. Hoping it’s quick, hoping that whatever happens afterwards is better than staying here.

The metal groans, beginning to warp and buckle under the force of the creature’s antlers as it slams into it harder and harder.

A beat of silence.

You open your eyes to find the creature stepping back as much as the hallway allows. It stomps it’s feet, flexing it’s hind legs.

Huffing out a grunt, it lunges forward to charge with all it’s might.

The metal finally gives out, tearing in jagged shards so the doorway is now a giant hole.

Your stomach drops as the creature lunges straight for you, too terrified to even close your eyes for the end of it all.

But the creature doesn’t rip you to shreds with it’s teeth, or maim you with it’s claws, or impale you with it’s antlers.

It nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder, a soft whine leaving it’s panting mouth. You feel it’s wet nose nudging you all over, sniffing like it’s searching for something.

Wet against your cheek. You realize that the thing is licking your face like a dog that’s been reunited with it’s owner.

Frozen, still. You can’t make your limbs move an inch, icy fear still stiff in your veins.

The creature retreats from poking and prodding you, still panting and mewling like an excited puppy. It hops a little on it’s strong legs, nodding it’s head at you expectantly.

You...have no idea what’s going on.

You should be dead by now. The beasts from the outside are supposed to kill anything and everything that crosses their path. They’re not supposed to yip playfully and nestle their huge forehead against yours.

The creature perks it’s great head like it senses something.

You assume that it must’ve realized that you’re prey, an enemy. Pinching your eyes shut, again, you wait for the end. Hopefully it’s a merciful one.

A moment later, you feel cold hands cradling your face.

Your eyes pop open.

You can’t decide if the man leaning over you is a corpse or a god. At the same time, wondering how beauty and death can exist in the same face.

A god, from the way his brown hair is pushed back from his forehead, the way his eyes are slanted so prettily. A god because he’s tall and demands respect with his presence, those broad shoulders and sharp jawline.

A corpse, from the was his full mouth drips with blood, running down his chin and neck. Two sets of yellowed fangs peek over the plush flesh of his lips. Dark purple veins peek through his almost translucent skin, showing the shadow of his skeleton underneath.

You feel his thumbs stroking your cheeks. Tears pool in his red, bloodshot eyes.

“Oh baby,” he says sadly, looking down at your flimsy clothing, at the fresh wounds covering your body.

It makes something burn in your heart, something like pain and healing at the same time.

The corpse-like man draws you closer, hugging you to his chest as he whispers out soft hushes and sweet nothings that sound like cotton in your dull ears.

And the more he touches you, the more the feeling flares. It’s close to unbearable, stealing away your breath, vision swimming.

The other creature shifts to the ground, curling around you in a way that’s almost...protective?

A name you don’t recognize falls from the man’s mouth, and just like that, your consciousness winks out like a flickering candle flame.

They found you. Months of desperate searching, following any and every lead, no matter how small or fleeting. Days at a time without sleeping, without eating.

Weeks of Yoongi locking himself in his room, tearing apart his grimoires, carving runes into his skin, trying every locator spell he knew to get even a whiff of your location.

After months of feeling empty, feeling like a piece of them was dead, they finally found you.

Once Yoongi broke through the wards, storming the facility wasn’t difficult. They may have technology, firearms and sheer numbers, but they don’t have primal fury.

Because their person, their final piece, was stolen from them.

As soon as they crossed the threshold, they felt it. A sudden pain in their chest, sharp and heart-wrenching.

She’s here, and she’s hurt.

They tore through the place in a feral rage, cutting down anyone that tried to obscure their path, because they did this. They’re the ones that kept you from them.

Jungkook plowed through the outer gates, the inner gates, the front doors. No one tried to hold him back as he sprinted through the storm of bullets.

Namjoon’s smoke shielded him, not that he needed it. The frenzy of finally being close to his mate after all this time would’ve made a few bullets feel like pinpricks.

He must’ve caught your scent, because the next moment he’s rearing his head back and roaring like he’s just been struck by an arrow.

Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung all hear it, shifted into their full forms throughout the facility.

The human part of them, the animal part of them, aches with the urge to seek you out themselves. But they have to take care of the ones who did this to you, because they’ll do it again if given the chance.

Jungkook will find you, he has the best nose out of all of them.

Bounding through the halls with renewed urgency, all that fills Jungkook’s head is she’s close she’s close where is she oh god where is she?

He can smell you, or he can smell your panic, and all he can think is don’t worry, I’m coming. Just hold on a little longer.

He comes to a hallway that reeks of pain and sorrow. It’s lined with bolted doors all the way down, each filled with prisoners that stink with lingering wounds.

Tearing the doors away one by one, peering into each room, he doesn’t stop until he reaches the end of the hall.

When he looks into this room, he sees a lone figure huddled in the darkness. A wave of fear floods his nose, then the stench of infection.

He howls. A bitter, provoked howl. The sound of a creature who’s mate is in danger.

Adrenaline pumps through his veins, fur bristling as he rears and charges at the doorway with all his might.

It takes several tries, but eventually he breaks through.

He doesn’t understand why wave after wave of fear is radiating off of you. He expected you to be relieved, to jump into his arms the second you saw him.

You’ve been their mate for years. Why are you shying away like you’re afraid of him?

When he finally breaks through the walls, you shrink so far into yourself that it looks like you might disappear.

Jungkook crowds you, sniffing you all over, searching for injuries.

He finds too many. Before he can let out another pained howl, he catches a whiff of another one of his mates.

Jin crashes into the room, looking furious and determined.

The same pleasant pain surges in the taller man’s own chest, stronger than it’s burned in months. The bite mark on his left wrist burns with it.

Jin drops to his knees in front of you, breathing in your scent for the first time in months.

Filth is smeared all over your skin. Your hair is shorter, much shorter. It looks as if it’s been cut with a blunt knife.

He too smells the infection. And the blood, of course he smells the blood.

“Oh baby,” he breathes out. “I’m so sorry. We came as soon as Yoongi found you.”

You’re staring up at him with wide, terrified eyes. And it looks like there’s nothing behind them. No relief, no recognition. Just confusion and panic.

“Baby?” Jin whispers, giving your shoulders and gentle shake, but you look as if you didn’t even hear it.

What the fuck did they do to you?

He hugs you close, your body feeling cold and weak in his hold.

He mumbles out apology after apology. I’m so sorry it took so long. I’m so sorry for what they did to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop them. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

Something flutters in his lungs. When he looks down, he sees you take a sharp inhale.

He hangs onto that breath, waiting for you to say something, do something, anything other than sitting there shivering like you’re too scared to even flinch.

He calls your name, and you collapse in his arms.

next part →

a/n: thanks for reading!! thoughts??

taglist: @btsiguess-kpop

#bts ot7 #bts x reader #bts ot7 fic #ot7 x reader #jeon jeongkook #park jimin #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #jung hoseok #min yoongi #kim seokjin #bts angst #bts fluff #bts supernatural au #bts soulmate au #caretaker!ot7 #bts hurt/comfort #bangtan ot7 #bts fanfic

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xxsycamore · 6 months

Text

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝟔𝟗

↬ 📜 The Belle Covenant, Clause 69: "A just king ought to give his country as much as he takes. Belle is to oversee his equal sharing, for he must learn to treat his country the way he treats a lover." Emma initiates 69 with each prince. You know, for political reasons.

Leon x Emma; Chevalier x Emma; Yves x Emma; Nokto x Emma; Licht x Emma; Jin x Emma; Clavis x Emma; Luke x Emma • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: 69 (Sex Position); Oral Sex; Rough Oral Sex; Cunnilingus; Bathroom Sex; Gentle Sex; Rough Sex; Deepthroating; Blow Jobs; Face-Sitting; Multiple Orgasms; Vaginal Fingering; Vaginal Sex • wordcount: 2,241 • masterlist

a/n: Welcome to my personal kinktober challenge, Visions of Temptation 2022 - that's right, last year's one. You can find the new one, Visions of Temptation 2023, here. DAY 1: ORAL SEX | SIXTY-NINE

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

The Belle Covenant, Clause 69:

"A just king ought to give his country as much as he takes. Belle is to oversee his equal sharing, for he must learn to treat his country the way he treats a lover."

"Now, Prince Leon, let's see if you're more of a taker or a giver…"

Propped up on his elbows on the bed, Leon had just told Emma he's hers to play with. He's so casual as ever, always there for her, ready to give a shoulder where she needs it. From how well they clicked it was bound to happen sooner or later, ending up in the same bed. Seeing Emma turn around and straddle his torso, Leon is pretty sure she's taking him for a ride.

Until she gets all comfortable with his cock in her mouth, retaining this position.

Now, Leon is not the one to idly sit and be pleased by someone without returning the gesture. It just doesn't sit right with him, when all it takes is a swift maneuver and Emma's leaking pussy would be right in front of his face and ready to be ravished.

The vigor with which Leon swirls his skilled tongue inside her depths can only be rivaled by the way hers wraps around the girth of his cock, tracing the delicious vein that protrudes on its side. She switches for teasing the slit of his tip, and Leon groans; the pleasure ricocheting right back to her core in the form of a sultry vibration.

"Suck it harder. Damn it, Emma, just like that… I'm going to cum, Emma. Cum with me."

They're locked in this loop of giving and taking all the way until their mutual peak hits. Hard.

Leon surely is a master of this trade, in addition to guiding her and praising her. She hums in bliss and takes a mental note of his skills, for future reference.

Chevalier is a tough nut to crack. First, he needs a good reason to cooperate regarding any of the clauses in the list. Why would he care? Second, he needs a good reason to comply specifically with the absurdish idea that Emma poses about 'testing his justness'. So she gets a little creative and a little mischievous, and gives him the necessary push.

In a little game of (big) cat and mouse, Emma jumps from the sofa to the bed before Chevalier can put his claws on her. Backed against the headboard of the bed, she has nowhere to escape, but the book that started it all remains in a secure hold against her chest.

"I'll give you your precious book back if you give me something in return. Or does the mighty future king of Rhodolite not see it fit to give in order to take?"

"The 'mighty future king of Rhodolite' doesn't fancy anyone touching his property with their dirty little hands," He looms in closer, caging Emma's body with his own, knowingly intimidating her, "And he has nothing to negotiate with thieves."

The book is snatched from her hands without much fight, and Emma sinks further down the headboard in defeat. The wise thing to do would be to retreat and rethink her strategy - and definitely not to try and seduce an angry Chevalier by letting out an accidental whine while she's still trapped sprawled beneath him in his lair.

Chevalier remains there, only raising an eyebrow - he shouldn't be too surprised by her open provocations at this point, but it's like he senses something genuine in her supposed act.

"You're hopeless, simpleton."

A sequence of Emma's half-spoken questions and puzzled sounds is merely background noise to the rapidly changing pace of events, as the big cat in front of her lies down and turns on his back. It's not exactly the equivalent of it trustingly showing its belly for rubs.

Emma's slightly trembling legs are gotten a secure hold of, as Chevalier drags her closer and on top of him - almost trying to be gentle but failing - until she's practically straddling his face.

Her pulse quickens rapidly as if she's been granted a throne she is unworthy of.

Just for tonight, she shuts her eyes and accepts the empowering pleasure it entails.

Sucking on her aroused nub until she sees stars, he almost makes her forget the idea behind this ordeal, until she has to remind herself about working for his pleasure too. Chevalier almost doesn't let her - at first, she thinks it's an additional dragging on of things for him, a bother. Once he lets her play with his intimidatingly big cock, though, it proves to be something different. The prideful second prince catches up with her heightened arousal shockingly quickly. His ministrations become sloppier. Such an exchange of pleasure, Emma concludes, is unfamiliar to him. He masks it very well - because by the time she reaches her own orgasm, it feels euphoric. He gave her a lot, and he took a lot, too.

Yves is almost too pretty right now. Emma laments not having him eat her out in a pose where she can watch his pretty face, his perfect features pressed into her cunt, his cute little nose squished against her clit.

His cupid's bow kissing her glistering, swollen pussy lips.

Yves maneuvers his frame swiftly over her body, just-bathed porcelain skin smelling of expensive oils and silky-to-the-touch caresses ghosting over Emma's equally cared-for body, as they shared intimacies in the bath beforehand.

Their exchange of pleasure is harmonic; voices joining together in a melody as they moan, aromas entangling in the air and delicate sensations as they roll in the clean, luxurious bedsheets. Yves softly guides Emma's body sideways before laying down the opposite way, muscles relaxing all over, safe for the ones of their sexes which are maddeningly pulsing in a chase towards a mutual peak.

Yves' love would trick you with tasting rigid demand coated with egoism; then reminiscent of a dessert with soft-crème heart, upon a bolder bite you'll discover what having your senses spoiled really feels like.

From someone with a mouth as big as Nokto's, Emma expects nothing but a big performance to come. She's in for a little more than she bargained for, she finds out as soon as her world turns upside down.

Looking at Emma now, Nokto connects the dots rather quickly as to why she's suddenly feeling coquettish like that - lounging on his couch whenever he's around is one thing, but getting so comfy that she's basically dangling her legs over the backrest, her best bedroom eyes following Nokto upside-down… He wonders if his antics are rubbing off her, or if she's giving him a taste of his own medicine. Hands folded casually on her belly, she finally poses the question that's been hanging heavily in the air, while Nokto dresses himself for another night out. It's now or never.

Emma is suddenly the fox's appetizer when he leans down and buries his face between her legs, the hem of her dress conveniently ridden up on her waist as if to clear his way.

She's never before given a blowjob upside-down but she likes a challenge. Nokto's crouch is right there in front of her face, so she makes quick work of his belt that he hasn't even fastened all the way earlier during his preparations for going out. It works out surprisingly well, a quick and explosively pleasurable deal sealed with a gush of fluid on their tongues.

Nokto works swiftly when there is gain for him, and surprisingly plays fair, too.

Like the carnivore he is deep inside, Licht loves taking his pray to his den. His room is mostly veiled in darkness and Emma's eyes are not well-adjusted to it by the time Licht begins ravishing her, but there is no fear in her heart. His tonguing on her heated core is calculated and it's nothing greater than what her body can take - and it comes naturally to her to want to give him something in return.

They're in no hurry, taking turns pleasuring each other, usually one being breathless and halting ministrations because of those of the other party. Emma feels shy being so vocal with a partner that only occasionally grunts every now and then. His giving is silent but evident and abundant, and she feels like putty in his strong hands. Licht takes long sweeps of his tongue on her sex, dragging her whole body back and forth with the impact, not caring that the bobbing of Emma's head turns sloppier. Once he releases his pent-up desire whole in her mouth, he tells her to spit if she wants - and feels his blood rushing forth hotly when she doesn't. In the much-appreciated post-sex cuddles session afterward, Emma catches a glimpse of a smile and dozes off contently.

Everything Emma learned about Jin's sex life, she learned against her will. Though it would be a lie if she said she wasn't once curious whether the rumors were true.

Her observations so far are that as many women the first prince has taken to bed, he is in the habit of behaving like he hasn't been with one in ages. Paying attention to every naked millimeter of her skin, Jin's hands never stop roaming, pleasuring, loving. He also eats her out as if he hasn't put food in his mouth for decades, she notices - a deep masculine grunt leaving his throat at the first taste of her hot juices on his tongue. He is a big boy who doesn't mind getting dirty, and that might be the best thing about him, as much as Emma refuses to admit. His technique is worked to perfection - the youthfully needy opening act serving just to trick her. It's funny how she attempted to blow him first and then turn it into a hot sixty-nine from there, when in reality he was the one to initiate that. Jin always struck her as the person who likes to sit back in his seat, one hand propping up his chin, one on her head, as he's been serviced. But he is a giver, a damn good giver.

Emma doesn't know why she had expectations of Clavis doing this straightforwardly and fairly, when he's already a well-known menace outside the bedroom. Being naked and open for his cruel teasings, for the touch of those wicked fingers that aim to irritate and to never satisfy, it drives her crazy. Clavis demands to be the one touching her and not the other way around - after all, there are so many ways to play with a bunny like Emma, why limit themselves to some boring position? Clavis has Emma climaxing twice on his fingers before he finally allows her to return some of the pleasure, guiding his flushed tip past her thoroughly kissed and swollen lips. She then understands - for all Clavis is worth, he's prone to becoming an absolute mess once pleasured. The little delicious gasp falling from his beautiful curved lips soon turns into a hearty moan, laced with desperateness and lust as he pushes Emma's head to urge her to take more of his cock inside her tight, warm throat. His little plan of turning her into a pliant, overstimulated pile of limbs is unsuccessful when he possesses a voice so erotic it sees her hunger awaking once again, head full of thoughts about riding him until sunrise. In addition, Clavis seems to enjoy the rougher manner of Emma seating her dripping cunt directly on his face, leaving him almost no room to breathe. Maybe riling her up was all in favor of receiving her harsh command of "Shut up already and pleasure me properly!"

The chances of coming with the upper hand when bargaining with Clavis are low, but the headaches are always worth it in the end.

Luke should have been the gentle giant who lets Emma catch a breather even in moments of burning lust. That's how she always imagined him to be with a lover - barely-there touches exchanged between relaxed sighs, lying down in some secluded napping spot that would once again serve its true purpose once every last drop of pleasure is squeezed out of their bodies.

Well. While it does sound good enough to Emma, she wouldn't trade her current position for anything in the world.

Adrenaline rushing all through her body, Emma's heart is about to leap out of her chest with the sheer lasciviousness of how Luke has her right now.

Someone as tall and strong as him, she should've prepared herself to be putty in his hands. To be folded in positions she couldn't paint with her imagination… or, like right now, to be picked up with her ass up and held in the air as Luke shamelessly devours her cunt.

With pleasure rendering her silly, she can't possibly hold back from attempting to suck his cock while in this position, even if its massiveness in its full erect glory intimidated her at first. For the timid, vanilla experience she expected, fucking like animals is the last thing she saw coming from Luke - and she suddenly finds himself at his mercy as he has complete control over her body.

The aftercare is more reminiscent of her initial thoughts, and coming down from her high never felt better. Once you awaken the slumbering monster inside the youngest prince of Rhodolite, you're in for more than you bargained for.

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doufudanshi · 1 year

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for anyone who criticizes jyl for bringing soup to yiling instead of like, money—

we should first ask: could jyl actually have given wwx money? she must have something, you say. the jins are rich! she could even give him some of her betrothal gifts.

but realistically jyl probably didn't have much money at all! let's think this through. not only did she not marry jzx yet at the time of her yiling visit, but (based on many, many imperial palace tv shows lol) all her worth would be in betrothal gifts of jewelry, fine clothing, or other misc items, which is 1) heavy and difficult to transport without notice, but that doesn't actually matter bc it's ultimately 2) disrespectful to sell and worse to have the gifter find out when they come by for tea and you begin chatting about the event in two days and they say oh where's that one-of-a-kind jade bracelet I gave you wouldn't it match the also one-of-a-kind silk garment that lady jin gave you sooo well oh you will look so lovely in it won't you wear it.

or worse, have it recognized in some random pawn shop on the street by someone who has never really liked you and WILL get you in deep shit for it.

does jyl have any money from the jiang side? well, jc has been busy at work rebuilding lotus pier and the clan since before wwx's defection, and even if he's not borrowing a shitton of money from the jins (which he almost certainly is), he definitely has the opposite of surplus funds. he's also busy organizing and buying gifts for the wedding too, making him go more in the red because you know the jins aren't going to want cheap-ass things even if you don't have money.

let's say jyl did get a significant bride price (aka given money money)—not only does that go to her family (jc), but it is given during the ceremony (which, again, hasn't happened yet). and, realistically, jc probably will have to use it to offset the costs of the above.

beyond that, let's just take this scene from a storytelling perspective. sometimes it is simply about the emotional resonance. the vibes. let's say jyl did have some funds to give wwx. but imagine if jyl was like here a-xian take all this money 😐 ok sure useful for some period. but is that the gift that wwx would want during the first time he's gotten to see her in months, and likely the last time he will see her in a long, long time (possibly years)? would that be impactful for the story?

meanwhile, the soup she brings represents her love. we hear in the extra, from wwx's own words, the care she put into selecting the ingredients, making sure the lotus root is fresh and perfectly ripe. it also takes hours for her to even make iirc. wwx derives so much comfort from it—that's why it comes up again and again. it is one of his first memories of feeling safe in lotus pier, of home. it provides wwx some semblance of normalcy. he hasn't had any this entire time, and is likely something he aches for whenever he's homesick or sad or questioning his choices. it is simply, given the circumstances, incredibly thoughtful. (and how meaningful was it to see wn treat it with such respect? seeing that is literally the moment in the chapter when wwx realizes—ah. the wens are people I cherish as well.)

and regarding jyl coming in her wedding dress—it is not for herself. it is for wwx. we saw how devastated wwx was just to even hear that jyl was getting married because he had to hear it from someone who wasn't jc or jyl. and to immediately then realize he cannot go? even more heartbreaking. and jyl, who clearly knows wwx extremely well, would know, without having to ask, how upset wwx would be to miss such a huge occasion in their lives that was previously a given. this is what she can do to offset that, even just a little. because jyl came in her dress, wwx gets to experience a piece of her wedding even though he cannot physically be there. not to be a 2000s mastercard ad, but there really are some things that money can't buy.

idk there's also some fist-shaking at the class discrepancy in the scene. and I get it. it sucks! her dress is certainly lavish, and the wens are farming on a corpse mountain and have only just started making a bit of money. yes, it's fine to think that if you were in the character's shoes, maybe you would've found it to be in poor taste—but the story isn't about you. it is about these characters, and what this scene means to them. and I'm of the camp that if there is no indication that wwx is upset by any of this, and in fact moved by it, there really isn't reason for the reader to be righteously indignant about these things on a character's behalf. that's just not the focus or the point of the scene.

plus, jyl is sharp. she is likely more aware of the discrepancy than most people think. she has also been shown in the text to not just be another sheltered, spoiled noble (re jzx soup incident). but if what you want is guilt from jyl—I personally think that guilt is performative, and accomplishes nothing. her guilt would've only made wwx unhappy. instead, here is an action that is meaningful and brings joy to wwx. to share her joy with him is not selfishness, nor is it some lack of awareness of their situation. if in this moment, she shows off her dress, if she revels in her joy, her happiness, it is for wwx, and wwx is incredibly moved by it.

and let's face it—wwx, of all people, would want to see jyl in a wedding dress that cost more than rebuilding lotus pier from the ground up. he wouldn't want anything less.

#cultural context is as always important people!#idk i just see a lot of jyl slander and it rubs me very much the wrong way #anyway this is not the jyl thread I intended to write but it's a subset of my thoughts #get ready for more later o boy #jyl #cultural meta #mdzs #mine #ps I think ppl should question their assumptions and reactions to the most traditionally feminine character in the novel #im writing this at like 2am after being unable to fall back asleep btw if there are mistakes whoopsies #jiang yanli

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straykeedz · 6 months

Text

day 26: lee know x reader x han: mirror sex

©straykeedz

tw: female anatomy; mentions of kink exploring but nothing too descriptive; fingering (f receiving); cum tasting; nipple play; unprotected piv sex (don’t!!! 🤨); blowjob; cumshot; choking if you squint; creampie; clit play; mentions of overstimulation but it’s not described; oral sex after reader’s been creampied oops; slight mxm if you squint ;♡

wc: 3,8k;

okay the premise is that i absolutely hate this fic. i started four different plots for this kinktober fic and i’m not satisfied with this at all, but i needed to post something otherwise i would’ve quit. i know myself. so bare with me if this sucks, i went through (i still am tbh) a creative block and couldn’t come up with anything better.

also, funny anecdote: 99% sex, 1% mirror lol

let me know if there's any mistakes - finished writing this super late at night so there might be!

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

🔖 : @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; @tooskathepiratefromshield ; ♡

to make sure i add you to the taglist, your age must be clearly visible on your profile. also, empty blogs will not be added - add at least a profile picture to your blog so that i’ll know you’re not a bot. ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni.

🪞

You’re not used to having two men in bed with you.

You’re not used to having two pairs of hands on you - touching your body, caressing it, squeezing it. You’re not used to having two tongues on your skin - licking every inch of your flesh; two mouths - biting every spot they can, praising you, humming against your body every time they get a reaction from you.

One of them - your sweet, beloved boyfriend Jisung, a cutie pie in the streets, an absolute freak in the sheets. A man with whom you’d tried everything in bed - literally everything, and tonight is no exception.

The other one - his best friend Lee Minho.

It was Jisung’s idea to have a threesome with him. Your jaw had nearly dropped when he specified that he wanted to have a threesome with a man - not any man, his best friend. You’d assumed he wanted to see you in bed with another woman, never in a million years you would’ve guessed a scenario like this - you, sprawled on your bed, Jisung hungrily kissing your lips as Minho plays with your naked breasts, pinching one nipple with his fingers and teasing the other one with his lips.

Well, let’s just say Jisung is a man full of surprises - not that you’re complaining, naturally.

“A threesome?”, your words nearly came out as a loud squeak.

Beside you, Jisung simply nodded. “I mean, only if you’re up for it, too.”, he shrugged. “I can live without it.”

Kink exploring with Jisung was always fun and exciting and it never disappointed you. Never. Before sex with him, you didn’t even know you could cum from your nipples only, for example. Or that you could squirt. Or that you loved overstimulation. Or or or or. Kink exploring with him was honestly your favorite thing, and you wanted to do something for him in return, help him explore his kinks.

“No, it’s okay. I want to try it.”, you promised, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Are you sure?” Jisung asked you, placing a kiss on the back of your hand. “You don’t have to say yes just because I want it. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel pressured, love.”

“I’m not, I don’t feel pressured.”, you smiled at him. “Just… Do you have someone in mind? Someone you’d want to do this with?”

Jisung nodded. Now you were curious to see her - to see the woman he wants to do this with, together with you.

“Who is she?”, you asked him, but you saw him lift his eyebrows and blink a couple of times.

“Oh, it’s… it’s not a she. I was thinking…”, he trailed.

“Thinking…?”, you encouraged him.

“Minho.”

And you can’t really blame him - Minho’s hot as fuck and he surely knows what he’s doing in bed. His fingers are expert on your skin, despite this being the first time he actually touches you, but somehow he seems to know exactly where to touch you and what to do to make you squirm under his fingers. Said fingers wander all over the valley of your breasts, down your abdomen, until they stop right before he could brush your mould with his delicate digits.

“Can I touch you down here?” Minho lets go of your nipple to look you in the eyes and ask you the question - big, dark eyes staring deep into yours, pupils blown and you actually find it cute.

“Oh, God, please. Yes.” It should’ve come out from your lips - instead, it’s Jisung who says the words. You giggle, seeing your boyfriend so desperate and eager, and Minho chuckles as well.

You nod, smiling at him. “Yes."

Your breath hitches when Minho’s cold fingers slip under the fabric of your panties and finally touch you there. The way he touches you is so different than when Jisung does it - his touch is timid, tentative, and his eyes are staring into yours to search for any sign of discomfort. He doesn’t know how you like to be touched down there, after all it’s only the first time you’re doing this. His fingers brush your entrance, and he bites his lower lip when he finds out you’re already wet - no, sopping, your panties are drenched in your arousal.

“She’s wet?” Jisung asks Minho, his fingers replacing his friend’s on your nipple, unable to tear his eyes off of where Minho’s fingers disappear inside your underwear.

Minho looks at Jisung, then nods. “So wet.”, he dampens the pads of his fingers, coating them in your arousal, then you feel his digits parting your folds, and you suck in a breath, wrapping your fingers around Jisung’s wrist. “Listen.” Minho tells Jisung, and then he slowly starts to move his fingers inside of you, until squelching sounds are all you can hear.

Jisung lets out a shaky breath, then looks at you with full-blown pupils and flustered cheeks. “Oh, jagi, you’re so wet.”, he huffs. “You like having Minho touching you, don’t you?”, he pinches you nipple. At the same time, Minho’s fingers brush and tease the spongy spot inside of you, making your toes curl.

You nod, biting your lip, unable to speak properly.

“Touch her clit, hyung.” Jisung instructs. “She won’t be able to cum otherwise.”

Minho chuckles, then raises you eyebrows at you both, because he can feel you’re already close, and he hasn’t touched your clit yet. “Mh, we’ll see about that.”, he applies more pressure on your g-spot, making you whimper as your grip around Jisung’s wrist tightens. “Think you can cum like this, y/n?” Minho asks you, looking you in the eye.

You nod eagerly, feeling already close to your first orgasm of the night. Jisung’s a bit confused now and slightly offended, because he never made you cum with his fingers on your g-spot before. Okay, maybe it’s because he gets so eager and needy that he just has to pull his fingers out and fuck you with his cock after a couple of minutes, but still. And now his best friend is about to make you cum with two fingers shoved inside of you, and it’s the hottest thing Jisung’s ever witnessed, and he wants you to witness it too.

“Look at yourself, jagi.”, he holds your chin with his fingers, then turns your head to face the huge mirror doors of your wardrobe at the end of your bed. You’re met with your reflections - you, sprawled on the bed, Minho lying next to you, Jisung on your other side, staring in the mirror as well. “You’re so fucking hot, my sweet love. About to cum with another man’s fingers inside of that sweet little pussy of yours.”

And Minho didn’t even notice the huge ass mirror doors before - too lost in how incredibly sexy you are, with your chest quickly rising and falling, your legs shaking as his fingers quickly work you up to an orgasm. But now - now he’s unable to tear his eyes off of your reflection in the mirror, and he can’t wait to see how beautiful you look when you cum.

“Fucking filthy…” Jisung mumbles, letting go of your chin, but you don’t move your head. “So fucking needy, look at you.”, he mocks you, then pinches your nipple, making you wince.

Then, Jisung turns to look at Minho. “You wanna see how hot she looks when she cums? Wanna hear how sweet she sounds?”, he asks, and before he even realizes it, Minho’s nodding like crazy. “C’mon then. Make her cum, Min.” Jisung demands.

And Minho does make you cum - fingers on your spongy spot, rubbing it mercilessly as your walls clench and your legs shake. You let out a muffled cry, closing your eyes as you release around Minho’s fingers, soaking them completely. The boys are speechless - both looking at your reflection in the mirror, an ethereal sight. Minho’s sure he won’t be able to forget it anytime soon - the way your fingers fist the sheets and your chest rises and falls as you bite your lip.

You whine at the emptiness once Minho removes his fingers from inside of you - long, skinny digits glistening in your orgasm. “You should taste her, hyung.” Jisung speaks softly.

Minho brings his two fingers to his mouth, then wraps his lips around them and sucks, swirling his tongue all over them to lick them clean - you taste amazing. “So sweet.”, he mumbles, pulling out his fingers from his mouth, and Jisung quickly wraps his hand around Minho’s wrist to wrap his lips around his hyung’s fingers, even though Minho’d already licked your arousal off of them.

“Minho…” you shake him off of his own thoughts, and Minho’s eyes focus on you - cheeks flustered, still panting. “Can you fuck me now? Please.”

Minho’s eyes widen and Jisung hums around his hyung’s fingers. For a good second, he’s shocked, because he wasn’t expecting such words to leave your mouth. His eyes immediately flick to Jisung, and the younger boy smirks, releasing Minho’s fingers from his mouth.

“Whatcha waiting for, hyung? You heard her.”, he says, grinning from ear to ear. Then, Jisung looks at you. “You need cock that bad, don’t you, jagi?”

You nod, licking your lips. Jisung chuckles. “Don’t worry, jagiya. Minho’s gonna give it to you real good.”, he turns to look at his friend. “Aren’t you, hyung?”

Minho bites his lip, and his fingers begin to wander all over your body once again, pads of his digits brushing your nipples once again, feeling them harden under his touch. “I am, I am.”, he nods, and then palms himself over his boxers - now feeling incredibly tight.

Now that he knows how your walls feel wrapped around his fingers, he can’t wait to find out how you’ll feel around his cock. It should feel at least a bit wrong - to be this impatient to fuck your best friend’s girlfriend, shouldn’t it? He shouldn’t be so turned on by this. However, in the confines of his black boxers, he’s rock hard. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he kneels on the mattress and hooks his thumb at each side of his underwear, beginning to pull it down his legs. You bite your lip at the sight of those beautiful dancer’s hips and thighs, and your eyes widen once his cock is finally freed - it slaps against his abdomen, hard and thick, tip beautifully pink resting against his abs.

“Shit.”

Again - it should’ve come out of your mouth, but it’s Jisung who swears under his breath at the sight of Minho’s cock - at least one and a half inches longer than his, and slightly thicker. And Jisung’s not small - the opposite.

You prop yourself on your elbows, looking Minho in the eye. “How do you want me?”, you ask him, hooking your fingers on the side of your panties, trying to pull them down your thighs, but it’s hard using just one hand, so Jisung helps you and slides them off completely.

There’s only one plausible answer to that question in Minho’s mind.

“On your back, like this. In front of the mirror.”, he answers a little too quickly. Ever since he saw your reflection in the mirror earlier, he knew he wanted to fuck you in front of it - see your head hang at the end of the bed, witness your eyes roll in the back of your skull as he pounds into you.

Jisung smirks - he knows his hyung too well.

You smile, too, positioning yourself just like Minho wants you, and you shiver when he places the palms of his hands on your knees, spreading your legs. Even though he made you cum earlier, you still feel a little shy to be this exposed in front of him - bare pussy on full display for him to see. Minho spits on his palm, then pumps his hard cock a couple of times.

“Still okay with not using a condom?”, he asks you, staring into your eyes, wanting to make sure you’re still comfortable with him fucking you raw, like you agreed. You nod, a clear signal you didn’t change your mind.

Jisung gets rid of his boxer just as Minho aligns his tip at your entrance, making your body jolt in surprise because it feels even bigger, prodding at your entrance, ready to slip inside any second now.

“I’m putting it in now.” Minho tells you, and you suck in a breath when he finally enters you - thick tip parting your folds, slipping inside your wet, hot cunt. And once he bottoms out inside of you, Minho, too, needs a few seconds to recollect himself.

Once again - it shouldn’t feel this good, to be buried inside your best friend’s girlfriend’s hot, tight pussy. He shouldn’t feel so eager to please you, to fuck you, to thrust inside of you ruthlessly until you’re falling apart on his cock, begging him to let you cum.

It shouldn’t feel this good, but it does. It does, especially when Minho lifts his eyes to meet your reflections in the mirror - the sight so filthy and pornographic. Him, kneeling between your spread legs, balls deep inside of you - and you, lying down beautifully on the bed, one hand fisting the sheets and your other hand on Jisung’s thigh. Finally, Jisung - with his hard cock out, fingers wrapped around it as he too watches the scene before his eyes.

Minho begins to move at a slow and steady pace, knowing that if he goes too fast he’s not going to last. The way his cock moves inside of you is deliciously beautiful, hitting all the right spots, its tip brushing your g-spot with every movement, facilitated by how beautifully curved upwards his length is.

You kick your head back, looking at Minho’s reflection in the mirror, a smile spreading on your face when you see his furrowed eyebrows and focused expression as he watches how your tits bounce with every thrust.

“D’you like it?”, you purr, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “You like watching yourself as you fuck me?”

And Minho whimpers, hips snapping to meet yours. “Yes- fuck.”, he swears. “I like looking at you more, though. So fucking sexy.”, he compliments you, continuing to fuck you a bit faster now that he’s sure he won’t cum too soon.

The room is filled with moans - yours, Minho’s, even Jisung hums contently from time to time, eyes set on where Minho’s body is connected to yours. He bites his lips at the sight of your pretty pussy lips spread around Minho’s thick length, and he can only imagine how tight you feel. He bets you’re dripping on the sheets, and he can’t wait to fuck you once Minho’s done with you. Right now, however, he needs to relieve some of the tension he’s feeling - cock painfully hard in his fist.

“Think you can take care of me as well, jagiya?” Jisung asks you, lazily pumping his cock. “Think you can make me cum while Minho fucks you?”

You nod, and Minho thinks he’s about to pass out - fucking you and seeing you focused on making Jisung cum at the same time? This is even better than his fantasies. “I can, baby, you know I can. I can take care of you always.”, you whine, eager to touch your boyfriend’s cock.

Minho’s cock is pretty and he surely knows how to use it - but Jisung’s is your favorite. Long and thick enough, a long vein decorating the underside of it, and a dark pink tip - perfect. Perfect for you to wrap your hand around, perfect to take in your mouth - in your throat, actually, until your nose is completely buried in Jisung’s soft pubic hair, just how he likes it, before he’s shooting in your mouth.

“That’s right, jagi.” Jisung caresses your cheek, brushing your lower lip with the pad of his thumb as he gets closer. “I’m so fucking lucky to have you, so fucking lucky you’re mine.” It feels almost weird to hear these words come out of Jisung’s mouth when you have another man’s cock inside of you, but you know he means it, and you know he’s right. You’re his. “Now open that pretty little mouth of yours, my jagiya.”

You do, and then you feel his cockhead brush on your open mouth, before entering it. Minho doesn’t stop moving inside of you - eyes set on the image of you giving your boyfriend a blowjob while he’s fucking you. He has to grip your waist with his fingers to balance himself as he continues to thrust, eyes flicking from your stuffed mouth to the mirror, then back on your mouth and back on the mirror.

“One cock’s not enough, mh?” Jisung mumbles, running his fingers through your hair. You slowly shake your head, humming. “Such a pretty little slut, isn’t she?” Jisung moans, turning his head to look at Minho, as you continue to suck on his tip - your fingers wrapping around the rest of his length to jerk him off.

“The prettiest.” Minho bites his lip, still pounding inside of you. “She’s so tight, Han.”, he huffs, muffling a sound.

Jisung grins. “I know.”, he chuckles. “You should try her mouth next. Feels like heaven.”

“Better than her pussy?” Minho pants.

Jisung scoffs. “Yah, don’t be ridiculous, hyung. Nothing feels better than that pretty little cunt.”

It’s funny - that they’re having this kind of conversation while they’re both inside of you at the same time. It makes you hum around Jisung’s dick, which sends a shiver down his spine. You can feel he’s close, and that encourages you to cup his hot, heavy balls with your hand, knowing it’ll send him over the edge in record time.

“God, jagi, you’re gonna make me cum.”, he breathes, kicking his head back as his whole body tenses. “Wanna cum on your tits. You gonna let me cum on those pretty tits?”, he rambles and nearly slurs his words, already seeing white. You hum once again, and he pulls away from your mouth, wrapping his own hands around his cock as he strokes himself swiftly.

It’s a sight that blesses Minho’s eyes - Jisung’s cum paints the soft flesh of your tits mere seconds later, decorating your skin, some of it landing directly on your nipples, and as much as it sounds absolutely crazy in his mind, Minho feels the urge to lick them clean. Wrap his lips around your soft, sensitive nubs and suck them clean. It makes his cock throb inside of you.

Jisung wipes his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand as he tries to regain his breath as his cock softens, still glistening in his own cum and your saliva. Minho can’t fucking wait to have your lips wrapped around his cock, too. The mere thought is enough to make his cock twitch once more.

“Fuck, I think- I think I’m close.” Minho mumbles, tightening the grip on your hip as he fucks you harder now. “Can I- fuck, can I-“

“You can do whatever you want.”, you pant, already feeling the familiar sensation in your lower belly as he mercilessly pounds into you, thick, veiny cock stretching you out so good you nearly see stars. “Fuck, Minho, do something, anything.”

Minho’s hands travels all over your body - his fingers smear Jisung’s cum on your tits as he collects some of it on his pads. Then, his fingers reach your mouth, and you gladly welcome them when he shoves them in your mouth, tasting your boyfriend’s cum off of his best friend’s fingers. Meanwhile, Minho’s thrusts turn unsteady and erratic. You’re both so, so close.

“Where can I cum? Fuck, I’m so close, where-“

“Inside of her.” Jisung speaks, and you nod eagerly.

“Inside, Min. I want it inside.”

Minho cums inside of you, with his hand gently wrapped around his throat - eyes set on your reflections in the mirror doors, watching how your eyes roll in the back of your head and your lips part as you release around him, your walls squeezing him tight, milking him until he gives you all of his cum until the very last drop.

The sight is so fucking hot Jisung’s hard again.

Minho’s movements come to an abrupt halt, and you’re both panting heavily, trying to regain your breath and consciousness. He’s careful when he pulls out - your legs are still shaking and you’re pretty sensitive, he doesn’t want to overstimulate you, he doesn’t know you actually love it.

Luckily, your boyfriend does.

An evil grin appears on Jisung’s face. “Why don’t you lick Minho clean, jagi?”, he suggests, and you eagerly nod, despite being exhausted. “I bet he’d love it.”, he grins at his friend, who’s still pretty dazed from his orgasm.

Minho nods nonetheless, and kneels right next to you so that his now half-limp cock is close to your mouth. You nearly don’t realize Jisung’s presence between your legs, lying flat on his stomach, staring at your creampied pussy and biting his lip at the sight of Minho’s cum dripping from your hole.

You wrap your lips around Minho’s cockhead at the same time Jisung places his tongue flat on your hole and laps at it. “Mhh, Minho tastes good, jagi, doesn’t it?” Jisung huffs against your lips, continuing to lap at your folds, tasting your orgasm mixed with his friend’s.

“So good, baby.”, you hum, pulling out Minho’s cock from your mouth. Then, you look at the older boy and lick your lips. “Wanna find out how Jisung tastes like?”, you ask him.

Minho really shouldn’t be nodding so eagerly.

You chuckle, collecting some of Jisung’s cum from your chest with your digits, bringing them closer to Minho’s mouth. He wastes no time in wrapping his lips around them, humming as he sucks Jisung’s cum off your fingers, swallowing it greedily.

“You liked it?”, you giggle, and Minho nods - full-blow pupils, absolutely sexdrunk. “I think you should lick it off of me, then. Here.”

Minho licks Jisung’s cum off your chest, and Jisung licks Minho’s cum off your stuffed pussy.

You chuckle, running your fingers through Minho’s hair as he hums against your skin, swallowing every single drop until you’re completely clean. “Good boys.”, you praise them, and they both whimper. Predictable.

Jisung lifts his head, lips a bit smeared with both your and Minho’s cum. “Jagi, I need to fuck you now, please.”, he practically begs, staring at you with big, doe eyes. You nod, smiling at him. “On your tummy.” Jisung instructs, and you nod once more.

“This, hyung,” Jisung starts, gripping your hips and positioning your body so that your ass is up and your face flat on the mattress, looking at Minho as he speaks “is the exact reason why we’ve got mirror doors on our wardrobe.”

Jisung spits on his palm and pumps his cock a couple of times before aligning his tip to your entrance. Minho looks at you in the mirror.

“So I can look at her fucked out expression while I give it to her from behind.”

🪞

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bangtanflirt · 20 days

Text

(Un)natural Instincts (Part 12)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9 > Part 10 > Part 11 > Part 12

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, drugs, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: discussions around SA triggers (mainly boundary setting, not angsty), one brief mention of a gunshot, gunshot wound, fear of punishments, hints to street crime violence, vague hints to smut

____

Hoseok watches as Taehyung gets lost in the painting, fascinated by how he repeatedly goes back and fixes each detail. It’s endearing, watching him bite his bottom lip in concentration.

“What’s that stuff you’re adding to the paint?”

“Poppyseed oil. It makes the paint dry slower.”

“You want it to dry slower?”

The younger one nods, “This way I can retouch whatever needs to be fixed without worrying about it drying.”

He hands his hyung the brush in his hand, which Hoseok swirls into the paint thinner before handing back clean.

“I didn’t know you could add stuff to the paint like that.”

“They’re called mediums. There's fast-drying ones too, which I’ll be using for the clothes and hair since I want to work in lots of separate layers for those.”

“This is already all too complicated for me.” Hoseok laughs, preferring to mindlessly watch the paint go down than think about drying times and layers.

Taehyung laughs, leaning in to give his hyung a peck on the cheek.

Jimin walks in at the exact time, smiling fondly at the scene. He brings in a platter of freshly cut fruit, most of which are Taehyung’s favorites.

“Fruit delivery!”

Hoseok brings the boy close, holding him by the waist as he opens his mouth for a piece. Taehyung follows, stopping his brushwork to be fed.

“How much longer until the painting’s done?” Jimin asks while popping a cut strawberry into the younger wolf’s mouth.

Taehyung holds up three fingers, mouth too distracted by the sweet fruit to speak.

“Three days?”

He nods.

“So three more days until you stop cooping up in here and pay more attention to me,” Jimin pouts.

“Are you actually getting jealous of Y/N’s late grandmother?” Taehyung teases, causing Hoseok to almost choke on a grape laughing.

It’s the sound again. The sound of Hoseok laughing. He seems completely oblivious as to how much it affects his packmates—how much love it fills in their hearts.

___

Jin reaches for Namjoon’s hand, attempting to soothe the worried wolf as they both wait for Jungkook to come out from his bath.

This isn’t going to be easy.

Joon says with furrowed brows alone.

He’s going to hate this.

Jin agrees with a light squeeze to his packmate’s fingers.

It wouldn’t be hard to convince an outsider that Jin and Namjoon can, in fact, read each other’s minds. Wouldn’t take much convincing at all, with how well the two communicate with just looks. But there’s no mind-reading abilities at play, just years of understanding each other.

They were the first two members of the pack, after all.

Namjoon still remembers the goosebumps on his arms when he first met Jin—it was the first time he’d ever felt the pull of a pack bond. A rush of adrenaline, serotonin, and dopamine all creating a buzzing cocktail in his body when the older wolf smiled his way.

Jin wasn’t innocent either, he knew he was riling the usually-poised Alpha up the second he looked at him. It was a fun game, teasing and taunting the big bad wolf until he was taught a lesson behind some shabby hybrid bar neither of them remember the name of anymore.

Namjoon's mind wanders back to that night, amused at the idea of telling his younger self that he’d be starting his forever family with that gorgeous man he met in a rundown dive bar—that four more wonderful hybrids would walk into their life and make them complete.

He doesn’t think he’d tell his younger version about the lab. He wouldn’t want to know.

The bathroom door opens, and both pairs of wolf eyes focus in on the youngest.

“Hey Koo” Jin says in his sweetest tone.

Jungkook flashes a toothy grin to his packmates, shuffling over to give both a chaste kiss on the lips.

“We were actually waiting for you pup, wanted to talk to you about something.”

Namjoon’s solemn tone isn’t lost on the wolf, putting him on edge as he takes his place opposite them on the bed.

“Is something wrong?” His eyes nervously dart between the two older ones.

Jin decides to take the lead, going in with as much tact as possible.

“First of all, we just want to say how happy we are that the hormones effects are wearing off on you. It’s great seeing you be yourself again...”

Namjoon jumps in, feeling Jin’s nervousness take over, “…but we do have to be mindful of our situation pup. Pushing away y/n isn’t going to do us any favors here.”

“Or Yoongi.” Jin adds.

Jungkook almost rolls his eyes, but he manages to hold back.

“I’ll behave.” He grits out halfheartedly.

“I’m going to need you to be more convincing than that Koo.”

The wolf glares at his Alpha, a sign of defiance Namjoon is not in the mood to entertain.

“Stop being bratty before I spank it out of you pup.”

Jungkook’s gaze changes in an instant. The challenging glint in his eyes is replaced with something far more devastating—hurt. Jin’s hands reach for Namjoon’s shoulder, pulling him back before the situation escalates even more.

“Why stop at a spanking? Might as well put the Obedience collar back on so you can have the docile and well behaved pup you want so badly.”

He doesn’t wait to be dismissed, almost running out of the room before the other two can see his glossy eyes.

Jin lets out a dejected sigh, “You shouldn’t have brought up punishment baby.”

Namjoon knew it was a mistake the second the words left his mouth, but it was already too late then.

“I-I know…it was just instinct.” Guilt overtakes his features, regretting not thinking twice before speaking.

The moment Jungkook looked at him with that defiant stare, he couldn’t help but respond in the way he had a thousand times before the lab. Back when punishments were just a tool for an Alpha to reign in a bratty wolf—not synonymous with physical and psychological torture.

He knows he can’t discipline his pack the way other Alphas do anymore, not when they’ve had enough punishments to last three lifetimes.

Jin tugs on the younger wolf’s sleeve, pulling him back to Earth, “Go apologize and make it up to him.”

“What if he wants space from me?”

“We’re talking about Jungkook here, your clingiest pup.”

Jin isn’t wrong. Jungkook isn’t the type to want to be left alone when he’s upset.

Namjoon follows the scent trail carefully, grimacing at the smell of salt mixed into Jungkook’s signature vanilla. Salt meant tears, and tears meant his pup was cooping himself up in some corner and sobbing. It doesn’t take the Alpha long to find which corner exactly, as the not-so-small wolf can’t exactly hide behind a dresser the way he thinks he can. But that doesn’t stop him from trying—bundled up with his knees to his chest in one of the spare bedrooms.

“Koo, sweetheart…” He keeps his voice soft.

Jungkook simply sniffles in response, not daring to look up with the wet streaks on his face. If this was Taehyung or Jimin, he’d have heard a “go away” by now. But not his Koo. Despite his willful attitude, there’s nothing Jungkook wants more than to be babied when he’s crying.

Namjoon cautiously sits in front of the boy, leaving space to keep their bodies from touching.

“Hey pup, can you look at me please.”

With his face still buried in his knees, the wolf simply shakes his head in refusal.

“I’m sorry about what I said Koo. I shouldn’t have brought up punishment…and the last thing I want is for you—or anyone—to be on those drugs again.”

“You’re lying.” Jungkook finally raises his head, eyes watery and puffy, “I was easier to deal with when I had the collar on. I know it. You know it. Everybody knows it. Hell, even I wish I could turn off all these thoughts and just behave. But I can’t…that’s not me.” His voice breaks towards the end, sobs threatening to spill from his throat.

Panic flashes on Namjoon’s face, composed demeanor becoming harder to maintain as Jungkook lays all his insecurities bare. There’s a quiet rage bubbling in his stomach—pointed a little at Kang but mainly at himself. Rage for letting Jungkook’s self esteem get to this point.

He knew from the day that Jungkook came into their lives that he’d need to be extra careful with him. Unlike the others, who jumped eagerly into his arms at the promise of a pack bond, his youngest pup was nothing but stand offish and distrustful for months.

It’s not hard to see how little love Jungkook has known prior to the pack, but things aren’t supposed to be like that anymore. Namjoon knows it’s naïve to think that all of Jungkook’s scars would be healed by now—knowing just how many he has—but wishful thinking got the better of him.

The boy in front of him looks just as insecure as he did when they first met. Except he’s not hiding it with sarcastic remarks and cold stares anymore…at least not to his packmates.

Namjoon makes sure to not let his frustration show in his words, needing to be as calm as possible to not spook the distressed boy.

“But this you is the one we fell in love with baby, how could we ever prefer any other version over it? I’ll admit you’re not the easiest pup from time to time, but I’d rather you be the most difficult wolf in the world than put that collar back on you.”

“Then why do you keep taking y/n’s side? She wants me back on the collar. I can tell. Wants me to be the sweet sweet angel they brainwashed me into being.”

“She doesn’t want you on the collar either Koo, she just doesn’t know this version of you…and you aren’t exactly letting her in either—which I know is hard for you, I understand it’s asking a lot, but I’m not doing this because I’m taking her side. I just think we have an actual shot of being happy here. You trust me, don’t you baby?”

Jungkook nods. No matter how upset he is, it’s instinct to nod when Namjoon asks that question. Of course he trusts his Alpha. He’d follow Namjoon to the ends of the world if he asked him to.

“I…I’ll try. But please…d-don’t punish me if I c-can’t.” The last part is whispered, as if it’s a shameful declaration. It is, to some extent, shameful for Jungkook to admit—that he shivers at the mention of the tamest punishments now.

Namjoon’s heart drops to his stomach at the helpless bundle of nerves in front of him.

“I won’t baby. I promise. Will you please come to me?”

Jungkook doesn’t waste time to scoot his way over, making himself small as he seeks safety in Namjoon’s embrace. Namjoon breathes a bit lighter, relieved at Jungkook’s lack of hesitation—the last thing he wants is his pup to be wary of him.

___

Hoseok looks over from one brunette to the other, both fidgeting as they try to find their words.

“What is it pups?”

Jimin clears his throat, tightening his hold on Taehyung’s arm before speaking up.

“Um..we just wanted to ask…” no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get the words out, “it’s nothing hyung! Forget about it.”

Taehyung, although disappointed, follows in understanding. The two are ready to retreat, but their hyung isn’t having any of that.

“Wait!” their hyung pouts, not wanting to be left out, “whatever it is, you can ask me.”

“It’s selfish” Taehyung takes the words out of Jimin’s mouth.

Hoseok raises a brow, waiting for further explanation only to be met with an awkward silence.

“Since when have you two ever thought twice before asking me for things?”

It’s true. They normally didn’t hesitate to ask their Hobi hyung for whatever they wanted. Why would they? He was their hyung and they were his precious pups to spoil.

But this wasn’t a normal situation.

“Whatever it is, I won’t get mad. You know I never get mad at you guys.”

Jimin wishes Hobi didn’t add that part, as it only makes him feel more gross in the moment,

“Fuck, I can’t do it. Please, let’s all drop this.”

Hoseok, however, isn’t ready to drop the subject.

“What could it possibly be that you’re so scare—” he stops as soon as the realization hits.

Truthfully, he’s been preparing for this conversation. With everyone else going back to normal, Hoseok knew it was just a matter of time before intimacy would come back into the equation for the rest of them.

“Oh pups, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine, really.”

Jimin raises a brow, wanting to make sure everyone’s on the same page. Hoseok continues on, assuring them that he isn’t misunderstanding the situation.

“If we’re being completely honest, I’m still not comfortable with the topic. There’s still a lot I need to work through to handle triggers around it, but whatever anyone else does is fine as long as I’m not asked to be part of it.”

“A-are you sure? With you tuning into your hybrid he—”

“I don’t tune in to anything in the house. Really guys, it’s fine! The only thing that’ll make me feel bad is if you hold yourselves back because of me.”

“We don’t want you just saying that for our sake hyung.”

Hoseok shakes his head with surety, “I’m not. As long as it’s away from me, I don’t mind.”

He punctuates with a smile, ruffling Tae’s hair to lighten the mood. It works on Taehyung, but Jimin’s brows are still furrowed.

“What about during our heats? Will you be okay next month?”

“I’ve talked to Y/N and Yoongi about it already. I’ll be staying with them at Yoongi’s place, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Right now, I’m telling you that I’m more than okay. Please don’t walk on eggshells around me.”

Jimin nods, deciding it best to trust his hyung’s judgement. Hoseok knows what’s best for himself, and it’s not Jimin’s place to decide what should and shouldn’t bother the older wolf.

___

You take a step back, huffing at your sixth failed attempt before diving back in.

You’re Shin Y/N.

You’ve made businessmen shake in their boots at the sound of your heels clicking. You’ve revived dying companies with one meeting. So why can’t you move this pesky little bookshelf to the other side of your office?

It’s been over fifteen minutes, and you can’t get the thing to budge at all. However, if it’s one thing you are, it’s stubborn. So you close your eyes and focus all your energy on pushing. To your surprise, the wooden shelf actually starts sliding this time. Ecstatic, you open your eyes to navigate the room--only to be met with the last sight you’re expecting to see.

It’s Jungkook, covered head to toe in black, with a detached expression you can’t quite read. He nonchalantly drags the piece of furniture, waiting for you to tell him where to stop.

“Right there is fine.”

He props it next to the standing lamp, making sure it’s flush against the wall before letting go.

“Thank you.” You want to say more, but you’re afraid of saying something wrong.

“Whatever.” He stuffs his fists in his hoodie before heading towards the door.

“Wait!” You panic, realizing you said that out loud. You don’t want him to leave but have no clue what to say next. Instinctively, you say the first thing that comes to your mind.

“You’ve been wearing that hoodie a lot…I can buy you more if you like—”

“No thank you.”

Your shoulders shrink. You know it’s not right, but throwing money at your problems has worked out pretty well for you thus far. Not to mention, it’s a lot easier than being emotionally vulnerable. But if money wasn’t going to solve this, your hand’s been forced to try the other way.

“I miss you.”

The words hang heavy in the air, with your fear of being rejected growing by the minute.

The wolf simply scoffs.

“Miss me? You mean you miss having a little pet following all your commands.”

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of Namjoon’s words to keep composure.

Relax. Jungkook’s a bit difficult to win over, but it’s not impossible. He’s still a sweetheart once he lets you in—really lets you in, without the drugs making him.

Drugs or no drugs, you’ve seen the way he looks at his Alpha with stars in his eyes, or the way he pouts to his Jin hyung when he wants something. Despite the cold front he’s put up with you, he’s as warm as ever to his packmates. There’s still hope as long as you keep trying.

“That’s not true, Jungkook. You can’t just decide what I’ve been feeling and make your judgements based on that. It’s not fair.”

He narrows his eyes, bringing his arms up across his chest in a defensive stance.

“You can’t miss what you’ve never known.”

“I miss you telling me your favorite parts of the shows you’ve watched…or ranking the snacks in the pantry…or just coming by to tell me about your day. Was all of that really just the drugs? Would the real you really be so miserable hanging out with me? Do you hate me that much?”

You try to hold it back, but your eyes start watering right as you say the last sentence. Luckily, no tears spill.

Jungkook is taken aback nonetheless, not expecting the answer he got. His eyes soften up ever so slightly, but not enough to douse the fire of unease you’re burning under.

“I don’t hate you,” he huffs, playing with where his hands meet inside the hoodie instead of meeting your gaze, “and I like living here. But I’m not going to wait for you at the door like a little puppy anymore. And I’m not going to expect you to treat me like my packmates do. You’re not a part of our pack.”

He’s not giving you a lot, but you’re grasping tight at the little assurance he does give. For now, a “I don’t hate you” seems like the best thing you’re going to get from him—and you’re not in any position to complain.

“I understand!” This time, you seem like the lost little puppy, wagging your tail for any approval you can get, “I’m not trying to impose on your pack. I know it’s not my place. I just…want to be friends? Whenever you’re ready to consider me one, I’ll be here.”

You don’t give him any time to respond, as the tears threatening to spill down have you brushing past before the hybrid fully processes what just happened.

Friend.

Somewhere between packmate and total stranger.

Jungkook’s never had a real one before.

He’d never had friends or family before the pack. Just an abandoned stray moving from one back alley to the next. The last time someone asked him to be “friends” was a couple months after he’d just turned eighteen—a wealthy Alpha looking for a fighter to make money off of. He’d agreed, desperate to get off the streets. It wasn’t a bad gig, but it didn’t exactly leave him feeling good either.

Days of nonstop practicing, and nights of nonstop fighting, all so his “friend” could squeeze every last dollar from the matches.

The other fighters didn’t want anything to do with him, with his constant wins getting on everyone else’s nerves. And everyone else in town didn’t want anything to do with him either, with his bloodied and bruised appearance not doing any favors. He got used to the routine—accepted that real friends weren’t in his cards, and that there was probably no pack waiting for him. A true lone wolf.

And he would’ve lived his entire life that way if his last opponent wasn’t such a sore loser. Well, specifically, if his sponsor wasn’t such a sore loser. He still flinches at the memory of being chased down those alleys, hearing gunshots followed by car alarms and shattering glass. It was ten on one, with half of them being wolves he’d defeated in the ring—all working to get their sponsor his money back.

He’d barely managed to escape, gripping where a bullet wound grazed his bloody leg, as he ran without looking back. He only stopped running when the adrenaline couldn’t keep him going any longer, finding himself lost in a neighboring town when his knees finally gave in.

That’s the first time he met Jimin and Taehyung, fingers interlocked and lost in each other’s company. They would’ve missed him if the streetlamp had fully gone out, but thankfully, the little flicker in the night was enough for Jimin’s eyes to meet that of the injured wolf.

If he wasn’t in searing pain, he would’ve felt the pull of the pack bond right when the other two did. But he couldn’t feel anything other than where the bullet ever-so-slightly missed, causing him to kick and scream the entire time the wolves tried to help.

“Relax, please relax. We need to stop the bleeding. What’s your name?”

“Get the fuck away from me. I swear to God I’ll break your bones if you keep touching me.”

Saying he was difficult is an understatement, but the two managed to pin him down just long enough to give emergency first aid.

That was the beginning of the long and messy road to adjusting Jungkook to the pack, navigating his hot temper and short fuse as the rest assured him the pull wasn’t temporary—that this pack, this family, would embrace him with enough love and tenderness to make up for all the years he’d been alone.

To you, to everyone outside, this Jungkook might seem difficult…but only he and his pack know just how gentle he is compared to his old self.

But the idea of this not being enough—of having to compete with the docile imitation of himself that the hormones made him—it was terrifying.

You said you wanted to be friends, but could anyone not bound by a pack bond truly accept Jungkook for the way he is? When there’s really nothing in it for them?

That’s never happened before.

____

A/N: It's good to be back!!!

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