*Pairing: idol!Jimin x f!hair stylist!reader
*Word Count: 5k
*Posted: may 27, 2026
*Genre: SMUT, tiny bit of fluff, mainly pwp, idol au
*Summary: You always make Jimin feel good about himself when you do his hair for every performance. Tonight, he's extra confident. So, he finally goes for what he wants. And what he wants, is you.
*Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT, MINORS DNI. bit of a power imbalance considering reader's job, tiny bit of alcohol consumption, oral (f. receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex (be smart, ya perverts), jimin likes his hair pulled, jimin = consent king, switch!jimin (you'll see), getting caught (ish?), bit of angst/anxiety at the end, reader's brain is mush, some pet names, jimin calls reader noona (just go with it, it's for the vibes), uhhh yeah
*A/N: welp. braided-hair jimin has had me in a chokehold since i saw him like this with my own eyeballs on saturday night. and it just got me thinking.. maybe he likes his hair pulled. i dunno. here's the product of my brainrot. enjoy it.
Main Masterlist
âBraids.â
Jimin looks at you like you have two heads.
âWhy braids, noona?â he asks curiously.
You pull out your hair styling tools and arrange everything on the tabletop in front of him, threading your fingers through his hair as you think about your vision.
âYour hairâs the perfect length for them. We have time. Can you just trust me for now, and if you hate them, Iâll take them out?â you ask.
Jimin huffs out a small laugh, his eyes sparkling as he smiles.
âAlright. Go for it,â he concedes, settling into the chair more comfortably.
With that, you get to work. Your fingers work nimbly, sectioning and crossing strand over strand, tying each braid with small rubber bands as you go.
At the end of twenty minutes, Jiminâs hair is styled into four small french braids across the top and sides of his head, the bottom layers of his hair loose around his shoulders. You tap his shoulder, signaling to him that youâre finished.
âWhat do you think?â you ask him, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
He turns his head left and right to look at his hair, nibbling on his bottom lip, as if gathering his thoughts before he gives you an answer.
âDamn, okay. When you said âbraids,â this isnât what I thought you meant. I love it, noona,â he says, giving you that signature, eye-crinkling smile.
âYeah?â you ask, exhaling a breath of relief at his approval.
Jimin nods excitedly. âYeah.â
You release him from your work station then, cleaning up your hair tools now that your job is done.
During each outfit change of the concert, you check on Jiminâs hair, securing and restyling braids as they come loose, ensuring his hair stays as neat as possible.
He sits perfectly still, always the cooperative client, as you redo a single braid thatâs now falling into his face.
âPretty hyped tonight, huh?â you ask with a soft laugh.
He starts to nod, his head tipping forward, causing him to let out a quiet hiss as he accidentally tugs at the braid in your hand, a sharp sting coursing through his scalp.
âSorryââ
âShitââ
You both speak at the same time, your hand instinctively releasing the braid.
âYou okay?â you ask him then.
Jimin canât help but chuckle then.
âAll good, noona. Can you fix my hair now?â
You just smile, going back to redoing the braid you were working on.
Thereâs a minute of silence between you two, the chaos of backstage fading as everyone starts to take their places to go back on stage for the last part of the concert.
âI am hyped tonight,â Jimin says then, answering your question that was so rudely interrupted by you pulling his hair, âIâm really feeling myself tonight.â
You smile at him in the mirror as you finish fixing his hair.
âGood. See you after,â you say with a gentle squeeze to his shoulders, stepping back to let him go.
Jimin stands from your chair, glancing around before he leans in, his breath ghosting your ear.
âIâd rather be feeling you, though,â he murmurs, and he turns to go back on stage without so much as another glance your way.
-
The absolute whirlwind that is backstage post-concert is nothing you arenât used to. Even as a hair stylist, you, and everyone else, are expected to help with the cleanup to make sure the dressing and styling rooms are left impeccably clean. That is BTSâ reputation, after all: the perfect guests at every stadium or venue they perform at, leaving nothing dirty or disorganized when they leave for the night. Itâs something the whole staff has always prided themselves on, ensuring the group maintains their perfect image, ever the respectable idols.
As you pack your things and head toward the staff buses with everyone else, Jimin falls into step beside you at the back of the group.
âCome celebrate with me,â he murmurs quietly.
You glance at him, eyes narrowing slightly.
âCelebrate what?â you ask him.
He shrugs.
âTold you. Iâm really feeling myself tonight. Come have a drink with me.â
Your voice lowers, not wanting anyone to hear the conversation.
âJimin.. you sure thatâs a good idea?â
He shrugs again, his hands in his jeans pocket.
âNo one has to find out, noona. Câmon, itâs just me. Iâll have some champagne delivered to my room and we can hang there. No pressure.â
You canât help but sigh slightly then.
âYeahâ okay. But if anyone finds outâŠâ
Jimin holds out his pinky finger then, automatically moving to intertwine his finger with yours.
âThey wonât. Itâs perfectly safe.â
He falls out of step with you then, disappearing down the long hallway to your right, catching up with the other members while you continue walking toward the staff buses.
-
Back at the hotel, you change out of your staff clothes, then rummage through the casual clothes you brought with you for this leg of the tour. You arenât sure if Jiminâs actually going to follow through with inviting you to hang out, and you really donât know how casual to dress if he does.
Your phone vibrates, pulling you out of your thoughts.
Jimin: room 3903.
Thatâs it? you think, expecting more in his message than just telling you where to go.
Jimin: iâm in sweats. donât worry about how to dress, noona.
Typical, you think, always knows.
You pull on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, an oversized hoodie over it, and slip on your sneakers. Grabbing your phone and room key, you slip out of your room and move quickly down the hall.
The members and staff have this entire floor booked, the tour having so many people working to keep it flowing flawlessly that you always take up a whole floor in every city you go to. You really hope no one leaves their room while youâre out here, because you donât have a clue what your excuse would be at this point.
Your eyes track each room as you pass, wandering down the hall until you reach Jiminâs room. Your knuckles tap softly on the door, shifting from one foot to the other as you wait.
âGet inside before someone sees you,â Jimin says with a chuckle as the door opens, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he tugs you into his room.
Inside his room, you canât help but glance around and let out a small laugh as you take in his massive suite compared to your standard room.
âDamn. Really feeling that tax bracket difference,â you say then.
Jimin rolls his eyes, looking sassy as ever.
âPerks of working our asses off for fifteen years. They gotta keep us happy,â he says sarcastically.
He makes his way over to the kitchen area, popping open a bottle of champagne that probably costs more than your monthly salary, and pours two glasses.
âNone of the others wanted to drink with you tonight?â you ask curiously as he hands you a glass.
He shrugs. He seems to be doing that a lot tonight.
âI didnât ask.â
He sips his champagne, hand waving in front of you to encourage you to do the same.
You take a sip too, the sweet, bubbly taste exploding on your tongue.
Thatâs when you notice something interesting.
âYou didnât take the braids out,â you point out.
His eyes sparkle with his smile as he walks back toward the sitting area.
âThey look good. Made me feel good,â he says, plopping down on the couch.
You follow him, taking a seat on the other end of the couch.
âThe fans seemed to love them, too,â you say with a soft chuckle.
Jimin looks at you then, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
âDid you?â he asks.
âHm?â
He sips his champagne again, throat bobbing as he swallows.
âDid you love the braids, noona?â he clarifies.
Itâs your turn to shrug then.
âThey look good on you. I wouldnât have done them if I didnât think they would,â you say.
Jimin shifts on the couch, closing some of the distance between you two. He brings his left leg up on the cushion, sitting more casually.
âYou made me feel really confident tonight,â he continues, his Busan satoori coming out a bit with his casual demeanor.
You canât help but laugh softly.
âThatâs what Iâm here for. Making sure you feel confident enough to go on stage and be happy with how you look.â
You sip your champagne again before setting the glass down on the coffee table.
Jiminâs gaze follows your movement, his hand moving to set his own glass down.
He swallows, jaw working as he considers his next words.
âYouâve been doing my hair since debut,â he says then, âand you always make sure Iâm happy with it before you let me go on stage.â
Your brow furrows in confusion.
âWell, yeahâ of course I do. I might be the stylist, but itâs you that has to be okay with how you look.â
He chuckles softly, shaking his head.
âNot all stylists feel that way. Some think itâs their vision, and the idol just has to live with it.â
Jimin shifts a little closer to you on the couch, leaving only a foot of space between you now.
âYou actually care,â he continues, âyou want to make me feel good.â
You rest your elbow on the back of the couch, turning to face him a bit more.
âI do,â you say simply.
That mischievous glint in Jiminâs eyes shines a little brighter now.
âI want to make you feel good too,â he rasps, his Busan satoori bleeding into every word now.
âHm?â you ask, confused.
The corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk then.
âYou asked me to trust you earlier,â he says, âcan you do the same for me now?â
Your body tenses slightly as Jimin closes the remaining distance between you two on the couch, his thigh pressing against yours now.
His arm snakes around your shoulders then, hand coming up to cup the side of your neck. His thumb traces the line of your jaw, making your head turn instinctively toward him.
âJiminâ,â you start then, meeting his gaze.
âTrust me, noona,â he breathes, his face inching toward yours.
He nudges at your jaw then, his breath ghosting your neck as his nose trails slowly along your jawline.
âCan I?â he murmurs, the slight vibration of his voice hitting your neck, âcan I make you feel good this time?â
You shiver slightly, the heat of his breath making your skin tingle.
âJiminâ is that a good idea?â you whisper.
He chuckles softly against your neck then, his lips brushing against your skin.
âYouâre always so collected, noona. So put together, worried about everything,â he murmurs.
You laugh a bit nervously, unsure what to say.
âCanât you stop worrying about if somethingâs a good idea, and just think about how good it would feel to let go?â he continues.
His lips press a barely-there kiss to the spot just below your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin.
âJust trust me,â he repeats.
You pull back, looking at him. You definitely thought he was fucking with you, but the look of pure want in his eyes tells you how wrong you were.
âOkayâ,â you say quietly then, âyeah. I trust you.â
You barely get the last word out before Jimin surges forward, claiming your mouth in a desperate, sensual kiss. His hand grips the side of your neck more firmly, holding you in place.
You kiss him back, lips following his lead as he deepens it. Itâs all teeth, tongue, and heat, him licking into your mouth like heâs been dying to do it for longer than heâs let on.
Your hand moves to his stomach, fisting into his t-shirt as you keep him close. You feel his free hand wrap around your hip, his fingers gripping right at your waist.
âTaste like the champagne,â he breathes against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip, eliciting a soft catch of your breath.
His hand at your waist tugs you forward, putting you on his lap. He gently positions your thighs so youâre straddling him, his hand sliding to the small of your back then, pressing firmly to slide you closer so your chest presses to his.
âDonât stop now,â he breathes, looking up at you, âI know you want this as badly as I do.â
Your free arm drapes onto the couch cushion behind him, fingers threading into the back of his hair as you claim his lips this time.
Jiminâs hips buck up against you slightly, a soft hiss following the movement as he kisses you.
The kiss gets more intense, your earlier hesitation fading into confidence. Your tongue meets his, sloppy and inhibited. You pull his lower lip between yours, sucking lightly.
âAhâ shit, noona. Please,â he breathes.
That makes you pause. âPlease?â you murmur against his lips, pulling back just a bit to look at him.
He tugs at the hem of your hoodie then, his eyes half-lidded as he nods. âYeah, please. Wanna see.â
You strip your hoodie and t-shirt off in one motion, tossing it on the floor haphazardly.
Jiminâs eyes darken slightly, taking in your black bra, the tops of your breasts spilling over the edge of the cups. His hand immediately slides up your back to the clasp, stilling there.
âOkay if I take this off?â he asks, eyes searching yours.
âHow else are you gonna see?â you ask, a small smirk of your own crossing your lips now.
Jimin flicks his fingers quickly, deftly undoing the clasp and moving both hands to the straps at your shoulders, pulling them down to fully reveal your breasts to him.
A low groan leaves Jiminâs lips then, his hands sliding to your front and stopping at your ribs. His thumbs brush the underside of your breasts, eyes meeting yours again.
âCan I?â he asks, ever the king of consent.
âYeah,â you breathe out.
His hands cup your breasts, squeezing and massaging them, his thumbs occasionally brushing or circling over the nipple. He shifts forward, his lips pressing to the hollow of your shoulder above your collarbone.
Jimin trails hot, wet kisses along the path of the bone, his tongue darting out to lick at your skin.
âThirteen years,â he breathes against your collarbone, âthirteen years of being too fucking professional with you to ever want this.â
He sucks the skin lightly, leaving a tiny red mark thatâll fade by morning.
âBut not tonight. Tonightâ tonight you gave me the confidence to ask for what I want,â he finishes.
Your breath hitches, hips rolling against him as his lips reach the sensitive skin of your throat.
You tug at his t-shirt then, wanting him to be as bare as you.
âLemme see you now,â you say quietly.
Jimin chuckles, his eyes glinting with that signature sparkle as he pulls his shirt off and tosses it somewhere on the floor.
âGodâ Jimin, what the fuck?â you ask, a soft scoff leaving your lips.
He gives you that cheeky smile, eyes crinkling at the corners as he shrugs.
âBeen in the gym a lot with Yoongi-hyung and Jungkookie,â he says casually, as if thereâs nothing impressive about his newly formed, nearly-washboard abs.
âI see this,â you say, rolling your eyes.
He takes one of your hands, dragging it down his chest and abdomen.
âTouch me too, noona,â he whispers then, âwant you to want me, too.â
Your hips roll against him again, his words sending a jolt through you.
Jimin groans more audibly then, his hips bucking up to meet yours.
âFuck,â he exhales, âdonât stop.â
You lean down and capture his lips again, one hand resting at his lower stomach, your thumb brushing along the sensitive skin there while your other hand holds the back of his neck.
He kisses you back, more sensual than before, his tongue dragging against yours as he lets out a soft moan into your mouth.
He squeezes your thigh gently, slowly working his way higher up your leg as he kisses you more. At the top of your thigh, his thumb brushes the inner part, and he breaks the kiss, keeping his mouth close against yours as he speaks.
âCan I touch you more?â he murmurs.
You nod against his lips, sliding your ass further up his lap, causing his thumb to press against your clothed core.
Jimin takes the hint, his thumb pressing firmly and rubbing circles over your clit through your leggings, making you gasp.
His soft, short laugh comes out against your lips.
âPretty noise, noona. Can you make more for me?â he teases gently, his thumb circling a bit faster.
He moves quickly then, shifting his position, flipping you onto your back on the couch and kneeling between your thighs.
âNeed these off,â he says, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your leggings, waiting, as always, for your consent.
Instead of saying anything, you lift your hips. His hands pull at your leggings, dragging them and your panties down your thighs. He gently pulls one foot and then the other out of the material, tossing the rest of your clothes onto the floor.
âYouâre beautiful,â he breathes, his hands resting on the outsides of your thighs as he leans down to press his lips against the inside of your knee, âgonna make you come for me.â
His lips follow a path up your inner thigh then, his mouth wet and hot against your skin, hands parting your thighs as he settles on his belly between them.
His kisses get sloppier, more urgent, more tongue, the higher up he goes, and your breaths come shallower, quicker, as your body responds to the anticipation.
âJiminâ what are you doing?â you whine softly.
He chuckles against your skin, nibbling it gently.
âTeasing. Or showing you what to expect when I get my tongue on your pussy,â he says, âyou decide.â
A jolt of desire courses through you at his words. He notices, because, always so attentive with everyone, of course he does.
âYouâre thinking about it, huh? About how good itâll feel to have my tongue between your legs?â he teases.
You whine softly again.
âFuckâ yeah, Iâm thinking about it,â you admit.
He chuckles again, his tongue dragging down your inner thigh until he stops, his face hovering just above your core.
âStop thinking then.â
His eyes meet yours from between your legs, and his tongue drags a long, slow path from your entrance up to your clit, stopping there and tracing firm, target circles around the sensitive bud.
You canât stop the moan falling from your lips, your hips squirming as his tongue continues its torturous circles.
âThe walls arenât soundproofed, noona,â Jimin chuckles against your pussy, making you clap your palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds.
When he sees your hand covering your mouth, he licks faster, his tongue circling your clit, the pattern only broken when he dips lower, tasting your arousal before returning to that sensitive spot.
You moan into your hand again, pressing harder to make sure the sound doesnât travel.
He buries his tongue deeper, alternating between fast and slow strokes, experimenting to learn what makes you moan and tremble the most.
You squirm more, his hand coming up to rest over your lower stomach to keep you still. His free hand trails up your thigh, two fingers pressing against your entrance before they slide inside you.
You gasp, the added stimulation only fueling your pleasure.
Jimin huffs a soft laugh against your pussy again, crooking his fingers upwards in search of your sweet spot.
His tongue works tirelessly, never slowing as his fingers work until they press against your g-spot.
You whimper into your palm, thighs shaking as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. You uncover your mouth briefly to whimper quietly.
âJiminâ fuck, there. So close.â
He speeds up his licks, tongue lapping at your clit in tandem with his fingers thrusting directly into your g-spot.
You feel your climax build rapidly, clamping your hand down over your mouth again just as the coil in your lower stomach snaps.
You moan out into your palm, wave after wave of pleasure ripping through you. Jimin doesnât stop, simply slowing his movements to push you through your orgasm.
He only lets up when you wince quietly from oversensitivity, pulling his mouth off your pussy and slipping his fingers out of you gently. He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean of your juices before wiping his mouth on his upper arm.
âGood?â he chuckles quietly, meeting your eyes.
Your breathing is still too unsteady to speak, so you just lift your hand to give him a thumbs up and a weak smile. He sits up then, never looking away from you.
His eyes sparkle as he smiles back at you, holding his hand out to help you sit up too.
âYouâre cute when youâre fucked out like this,â he comments, making you glare at him. But thereâs no heat in your gaze, your eyes dropping to the obvious erection tenting his sweatpants.
Your breathing finally settles enough to talk without pausing between words.
âOff,â you say simply, your hand pulling at the fabric of his pants.
Jimin looks at you one more time for confirmation before sliding his sweatpants and boxers off, settling back on the couch in the same spot you started.
Without hesitation, you climb back into his lap, straddling him. Your wetness brushes his cock as you settle, a sharp hiss escaping his lips.
âYouâre sure?â he breathes, âbecause I really wanna fuck you.. but donât feel like you owe me for what I just did.â
You roll your hips on his lap, grinding your still-dripping pussy against him in response.
âIâm sure,â you whisper, âwanna ride you.â
He groans, the sound low in his throat as you position yourself with his cock pressed to your tight hole.
âThenâ fuck, then please, do it,â he murmurs, voice cracking slightly.
You sink down onto his cock then, walls stretching around him to accommodate his size. Heâs thick, making the movement slower than you wouldâve liked, but after a moment, you settle on his thighs, his cock buried completely inside you.
âShitâ,â he hisses through his teeth, hips instinctively bucking up, his cock hitting deeper with the movement.
You gasp, the pressure against your g-spot intense as his cock hits it just right from this angle.
Jiminâs hands settle on your hips, thumbs gently stroking your skin as he looks up at you.
âMove for me, baby,â he breathes, his hands pressing upwards to lift you.
Your arms wrap around his neck, lips meeting his in a heated kiss as you lift yourself, grinding down on his cock, forcing a low moan from his throat.
He kisses you back, the kiss slow and lazy as his hands work to help guide your rhythm. Your breasts press against his chest, hips rolling as you repeatedly bounce on him.
The room fills with the slick sound of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, his low moans and your quiet whimpers.
âThatâs it,â he breathes, âfuckâ pull my hair, noona.â
Your rhythm breaks slightly as you process his request.
âPleaseâ,â he continues, ânot hard. Justâ tug it. Like you did when you were doing my hair earlier. When I moved and you accidentally pulled it. Felt good.â
You kiss him again, regaining your bearings, and ride him more deliberately then. Your hand slides into the back of his hair, fingers threading into it at his scalp, and tug lightly.
The sound that escapes his lips can only be described as a desperate whimper, quiet and needy.
âShitâ yes. Please, more,â he breathes.
You break the kiss, tugging his hair a little more firmly to tip his head back, your lips pressing to his throat. He groans at the sensation of your mouth on his skin and the pulling of his hair, his hips bucking up to meet your every move.
His fingers press into your hips, leaving indentations on your skin, soft grunts and deep, low moans punctuating every thrust up into your pussy.
âNoonaâ gonna come. Whereâ,â he starts, his question cut off when you suck lightly at the base of his throat, your fingers tightening in his hair.
The sting of the harder tug pulls another needy whimper from him, his hips thrusting up hard.
âIn me,â you breathe against his throat.
He groans deeply, his hips thrusting up once, twice, three more times before they still, stuttering against you as he spills inside you.
âFuck,â he moans, âyouâ fuck.â
You slow your hips, rolling them slowly to draw out every drop of his release, continuing until his hands pull you down to stop you from moving anymore.
The room is quiet now save for panting breaths from both of you. Jiminâs arms wrap around your waist then, his eyes opening to meet yours. His thumbs brush the skin of your lower back, not saying anything at first.
After a few slightly awkward moments, he finally speaks.
âWellâ that was.. that was fucking incredible,â he chuckles nervously.
You chuckle too then, nodding. âIt was.â
He lets out a slow breath, the awkwardness fading as you both realize things are still okay between you two.
âI really donât wanna kick you out,â he says quietly then, âbutâ weâre already pushing it with you even being here.â
You shake your head slightly then, a small smile crossing your face.
âI know. Iâll go,â you say, understanding.
Jimin leans forward then, pressing a few quick, tender kisses to your lips, his lips curving upward in a smile of his own.
âNot mad at me?â he asks.
You shake your head again.
âNo. Not mad. Iâll beâ so fucking fired if anyone ever finds out about this,â you respond.
His smile fades slightly, but itâs not in sadness, just gentle understanding.
âYou wonât be. Iâd take the blame, have them cover it up. I told you, itâs perfectly safe. Youâre perfectly safe with me,â he says quietly.
You nod, pressing a kiss of your own to his lips before you finally pull yourself off his lap.
The two of you dress quickly, and Jimin stands, facing you. His hand reaches up to smooth over your hair, making sure it doesnât look too messy before you go in case youâre seen.
You take one last look at each before you finally step away.
At the door, you turn back and give him a small smirk.
âNext time youâre feeling yourself againâŠâ you trail off.
Jiminâs eyebrow raises, curious.
âCome feel me instead.â
Jimin canât help but laugh at your words, giving you that characteristic eye-crinkling smile.
âYeah,â he says, âI will, noona.â
With that, you slip out of his room, making your way back down the hallway toward your own room.
Just as youâre about to open your own door, you hear a clearing of someoneâs throat from behind you.
You freeze, heart rate picking up as you turn slowly to face the owner of the sound.
Looking up, youâre met with the man who made the sound, instantly knowing he definitely either saw you leaving Jiminâs room, or worse, heard you from inside.
âNamjoon,â you say quietly, âitâs notâ.â
âThe walls arenât soundproofed, noona,â he cuts you off, âbe more careful next time, unless you want the whole floor to hear you,â he says simply.
You let out an anxious breath, nodding slowly.
âI wonât say anything. But I canât say the same for the rest of the staff,â he continues.
You fidget with your room key, still anxious under Namjoonâs gaze.
âGo to bed before someone else finds you out here,â he finishes, giving you a small, dimpled smile before he disappears into his own room.
You turn back quickly, unlocking your door and rushing inside. You press your back against the door, exhaling shakily.
Fuck.
Namjoon knows you just slept with Jimin. You trust him to keep his word and not tell anyone, but if he heard you.. who else did?
Not even five minutes later, your phone buzzes.
Jimin: told you, noona. youâre safe with me.
You breathe a sigh of relief, but itâs tinged with residual anxiety, knowing Namjoon probably talked to Jimin too, based on his text.
Jimin: just gotta be more quiet next time.
Jimin: hope there is a next time.
You smile softly to yourself, reading his messages as they come through.
You: there will be.
You put your phone away, getting ready for bed. The anxiety fades eventually. You curl into your sheets, staring at the dark ceiling above you as you get lost in your own thoughts.
You just slept with Jimin. An idol who, all things considered, could be labeled as completely untouchable. Shouldnât be accessible, especially not to you. The one whoâs been with him since the groupâs debut, traveling the world, at every performance and event, simply styling his hair. Making sure he looked good, felt good. And it shouldnât have happened at all, but it did.Â
You keep replaying the night in your head. How he touched you, the way he asked over and over for your consent. The way it seemed like youâd done this a thousand times before, when neither of you have ever even attempted to cross that line. None of it makes sense. Shouldnât it have been a little awkward? Shouldnât there have been more fumbling, more learning each other? Shouldnât there have been a little more hesitation?
You shake your head, hoping to clear your mind. Whatâs done is done, and you canât take it back now that itâs happened. You start to drift off to sleep, your brain slowly shutting off for the night.
But thereâs one specific thought that you canât seem to shake from your mind.
The thought makes your brain buzz, your mind replaying his request, every sound that fell from his lips as he responded to you.
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pairings: producer!min yoongi x popgirlie f!reader
genre: romance, smut, slight porn with plot, friends to lovers au
word count: 6K
beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily)
prompt: "There is just no way you two did not fuck each other's brains out."
summary: "You Big Enough?" - when an old flame resurfaced, rumours spiralled, and suddenly, every lingering glance and every touch between you seemed to carry weight. It had always been just music, just friendshipâhadnât it? No. You always had the vibe of  'will they, won't they.' This has become bigger than the music. Tension crackled, boundaries blurred, and there was this thing that Yoongi made sure you knew well besides that he was big enough. "They just talk. I fucking deliver."
warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, explicit language, themes of subtle (and not-so-subtle) possessiveness, teasing, sexual activity, rough sex, fingering (f receiving), miscommunication driving emotional conflict, dirty talk, raw fucking (stay safe!) choking and spanking as part of intimate scenes, creampie, fleeting nipple play, very subtle dominance/submission dynamics, implied size kink ... (as per usual, I'll add some if needed)
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, sexual activity, sex without protection, choking and spanking as part of intimate scenes.
a/n: yall, I had this idea like a month ago and I wrote the initial part but lowkey forgot that it's in my drafts so I finished it yesterday (might come later to edit, pls excuse me im working overtime these days) and amazing and spectacular @chaoticpuff17 managed to read it so you can have it as a lil Valentine's day treat. So here is something simple, smutty, and cute for ya. Happy Valentine to all of you who celebrate, love you my little fairies! â„
masterlist
Your hands hovered above the keys and your brain could not figure out what to press to make it sound as magical as you want. Your mind searched for the perfect melody for the bridge of her latest songâ
"Try F-sharp minor," Yoongi suggested, his voice low and even. The studio is a second home for you. Always have been and dear Min Yoongi was as much a refuge as the soundproof walls and softly humming equipment.
You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.
"Perfectâ" There was a warmth in his gaze, one that lingered a second too long.
"How do you always know, Yoongi-ah?"
"It's my job," he said simply, but the corners of his mouth quirked up. Your heart fluttered with a familiar yet unwelcome sensation. But you quickly shook it off, focusing on the music in front of her.
"I'm lucky to have you, then," you murmured.
Yoongi didn't respond immediately, and when he did, his voice was quieter than before.
"I'd say I'm the lucky one."
Before you could process what he meant, your phone buzzed, breaking the spell. You picked it up, seeing a message from your lifelong bestie, Jimin-ah.
Emergency. Coming over.
You frown but you are happy to not indulge in something you don't have the answers to. "Jimin-ah is on his way. Guess I'll have to call it a night."
Yoongi's expression was unreadable, but he nodded, knowing that it must be something important if youâre packing your stuff so quickly.Â
"I'll see you tomorrow, then."
"You need to fucking hear this," he says, her voice brimming with urgency when he bursts into the apartment like a whirlwind, his dark glossy hair bouncing as he flops onto the couch.
"You remember Seo Kang-joon?"
You hand him a glass of red wine and sit across from him.
"What now? Did he suddenly reappear after he ghosted me?"
Jimin winces.
"Actually, yeah. And I finally found out why he did so."
Your stomach drops. You liked that man when you went out, but the message you left a good amount of time ago went unanswered for an even longer period of time.
"Why?"
He hesitates, his eyes darting around the room. Finally, he leans forward, lowering his voice. "Everyone thinks you and Yoongi are⊠you know."
You blink.
"What?" you say, playing dumb.
"You knooowwwâŠâ
"âthat."
He said through gritted teeth, trying to make you understand, but your brain was not cooperating.
"No, I dooooon't know that" You mimicked him, and he only stared dead serious at your stupidity.
"They think you've been doing it," he says bluntly. "Apparently, it's some open secret in the industry. Like, 'Oh, Y/N and Yoongi? Of course, they're a thing.'"
Your jaw drops. No way. No fucking way.
"That's insane. We're not⊠we're not like that."
"You sure about that buttercup?" Jimin raises an eyebrow and you merely nod.
"Cuz', he's not exactly denying it. And honestly, can you blame people for assuming? You've written two albums together, spent countless hours locked in the studio, and the way he looks at youâŠ" he trails off, shaking his head.
"There is just no way you two did not fuck each other's brains out."
Your cheeks burn.
"That's ridiculous. Yoongi and I are friends. Just friends."
"Hmm, I don't know hun,â"
He was right. You weren't buying it. Not entirely.
But you weren't ready to admit that out loudânot yet, anyway. Your mind races. You replay every moment you've spent together, every lingering glance and fleeting touch.
Yoongi and you?
It was absurd, wasn't it?
Right?
Jimin watched you carefully, his perfectly shaped brows raised in amusement. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?"
"No," you scoffed, but your voice lacked conviction.
Jimin smirked, leaning back against the couch. "Look, babe, I wouldn't bring this up if I didn't think it was something you should actually think about. People don't just make this kind of shit up for no reason."
You sighed, rubbing your temples. "I justâwhy wouldn't he deny it?"
"That's what you need to figure out." Jimin gave you a pointed look. "You trust him, don't you?"
You hesitated. That was the problem, wasn't it? You trusted Yoongi more than anyone. He had been your anchor in the storm, your safe space when everything else felt uncertain.
But thisâthis was different.
The way he looked at you.
The way he always knew exactly what you needed.
You replayed every moment with Yoongi in your mind, combing through the memories with a fine-toothed scepticism, looking for anythingâanythingâthat could have fed these rumours. The way he watched you while you worked in the dance studio, the quiet way he always made sure you had water before long sessions, the casual intimacy in the way he touched youâlight, fleeting, like a habit neither of you had ever questioned.
Had you been blind this whole time?
Jimin's voice snapped you back to reality.
"Look, I think you need to talk to him. Like, actually talk to him."
You swallowed hard.
Talking to Min Yoongi had never been difficult before. But this? This felt dangerous.
The next evening, you stepped into the dimly lit studio, and the question sat on the tip of your tongue like a loaded gun.
Yoongi was already there, as always. The warm amber glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows across his sharp features, catching on the soft strands of dark hair that fell over his eyes. His fingers rested idly on the soundboard, a picture of quiet focusâuntil he looked up at you.
His gaze, steady and unreadable, held you captive.
"You're late," he murmured, but there was no accusation in his toneâjust that familiar, quiet warmth.
You swallowed. "Got caught up with Jimin last night, forgot to set a reminder."
At that, something flickered across his faceâtoo quick to name, gone before you could hold onto it. "Ah."
Silence stretched between you, thick with something you weren't ready to name. But you hadn't come here to tiptoe around things anymore.
So you stepped forward, pressing a hand against the cool surface of the mixing console, grounding yourself, only now taking his appearance in.
"I played with the structure a little last night after you went home andâ" he broke the silence first, but you knew he sensed the sudden awkwardness in your posture, your whole being.
"Is something the matter, sleepyhead?"
"Nope, nothing at all."
You quickly retorted, trying to look anywhere else but his gorgeous face.
Yoongi's eyes, however, never wavered. They held a depth that made it impossible for you to escape his gaze. You had always known how intense he could be, but now, in the stillness of the studio, it felt almost intimate, the air thick with unspoken words that seemed to pulse around you like a melody begging to be heard.
He leaned forward slightly, his hands resting casually on the desk, but his posture was all focusâintent, almost as if he was waiting for you to unravel yourself.
"Are you sure about that?" His voice was lower now, a gentle challenge. He was pulling at the thread, testing the tension between you.
Your stomach twisted. This was the moment, wasn't it?
"I'm fine, Yoongi, just had a lot of wine last night," you said again, but your voice betrayed you. It cracked, ever so slightly, and you couldn't mask the uncertainty in it.
The silence between you thickened, and it felt like the space in the room had shrunk, until it was just you, him, and the suffocating pressure of the question you both knew was lingering.
He didn't look away, not even when you avoided his gaze, staring down at the soundboard like it could offer you some kind of escape. He moved to the electronic piano while lifting a brow at you.
"So as I said, I played with the structureâ"
You watched him, leaning at the piano, his fingers poised just above the keys, waiting for him to break the silence again, to give you something more. But you didn't want more from himânot in the way you wanted it. Not yet.
Instead, you played a dangerous game, one of subtle manipulation, testing him, probing for the truth behind his unreadable expressions.
"You remember Seo Kang-joon, right?" You interrupt him, raising your voice just a little.
The name hung in the air between you, deliberately chosen, carefully placed like a baited hook.
Yoongi's fingers stilled for the briefest of moments. But it was enough. Just enough for you to notice. His posture shifted ever so slightly, his shoulders stiffening imperceptibly.
You bit back a smile, inwardly satisfied at his subtle reaction.
"I bumped into him yesterday on my way home. He... he actually asked me out on a date again. Said he lost his phone and had to get a new phone number, didn't remember mine."
A lie.
The words left your mouth so easily, like a lie you had rehearsed in front of the mirror, and yet your heart pounded with anticipation. You weren't expecting much. Just a flicker of jealousy, a crack in the calm façade he always wore. So your interrogation of his, perhaps, hidden feelings isn't unprovoked.
Yoongi didn't immediately respond. His fingers finally touched the keys, the faintest chord ringing through the room, but his eyes remained fixed on the piano.
For a long moment, there was nothing but the soft melody playing between you, the rhythm of his fingers meeting the ivories almost too steady.
And then, finally, he spoke. His voice was low, flat. "Is that so?"
Your breath caught. That was it?
You frowned, staring at him from across the room, searching for a reaction. Anything. But his expression was as controlled as ever. His calm demeanour was unshakable.
No way.
You leaned forward, the pressure of the lie beginning to claw at your insides. "Yeah, he asked me. He was actually pretty... persistent about it. He was sorry I thought he ghosted me." You let the words hang, trailing off deliberately, watching his reaction closely.
But Yoongi only nodded, his eyes focused on the keys.
"I see."
A small flame of frustration ignited in your chest. Was he really this indifferent? Was he truly going to let this lie slide without a hint of a reaction?
You stood up abruptly, unable to hold the pretense any longer. You could feel your temper rising, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface.
"You fucking see?!" Yoongi's fingers paused mid-chord as the tension in your voice snapped through the room. You busted out your feelings. Well, this was doomed from the start.
You stepped forward, your voice trembling with a mix of fury and something elseâsomething raw that you hadn't been prepared to face. "You don't even care, do you? You don't care that everyone is saying we're fucking, that they think we'reâ" You cut yourself off, almost choking on the words. You couldn't bear to say them aloud, but you needed to know, needed to push him.
His gaze met yours, and in that instant, you knew he hadn't been indifferent. He'd been waiting. Waiting for you to unravel yourself, for you to show your cards. His eyes, dark and unreadable, pinned you in place.
"Is that what you wanted to hear?" His voice was cold now, controlled, with an edge that made your skin prickle. The air in the room thickened, turning heavy with the weight of his words.
"Well, perchance?!â" You gesture rapidly.
"You run around not denying it Yoongi,â?!"
The calm, controlled exterior he wore was unravelling, and you weren't sure if you liked the version of him that was emergingâor if it terrified you.
He stood up, slowly, deliberately. The sudden motion caused a cold shiver to run down your spine. He didn't step towards you, but the space between you both seemed to shrink in the way he carried himselfâevery step deliberate, every movement measured.
"Why do you care so much?" His voice was low, almost detached, but there was a certain sharpness to it now. It was the tone he used when he was dangerously close to losing control, but for now, he still kept it in check. "What's so important about what they think?"
You opened your mouth to reply, but the words tangled in your throat. You had been so sure of your reasoningâso certain of the way you wanted him to reactâbut now that he was giving you exactly what you wanted, you realized just how hollow that satisfaction felt.
"I dunno Yoongiâmaybe because men ghosted meâmaybe because you just might be the reason I had a dry seasonâ or maybe you're that kind of motherfuckerâ"
Yoongi let out a sharp breath, a dry laugh escaping him as he shook his head. You elevated this to a different level now. "A motherfucker?" He repeated his tone somewhere between disbelief and amusement. "That's what we're doing now?"
You were too far gone to stop. The frustration, the pent-up emotions, the sheer nerve of him sitting there, all unbothered while you spiralledâit cracked something open inside you.
"Yes, Yoongi! A motherfucker! What else do you call a guy who lets rumours fly like this and doesn't even care?" Your hands gestured wildly as your voice grew more frantic.
"You don't deny it, you don't address it, you just exist in this limbo, letting people think we're screwing while I sit here looking like a desperate idiot who cannot get a hold of her manâ"
His jaw clenched, his patience visibly wearing thin. "So what if I don't deny it?" He stepped closer, voice a fraction lower now, dangerously quiet. "What if I don't care what they think? What if I like the way it sounds?"
Your breath hitched.
Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. Your entire argument, the whole reason you'd brought this up, suddenly felt shaky, flimsy, like a house of cards collapsing under the weight of his words.
Yoongi watched you, his eyes dark and unreadable, waiting for you to process what he had just admitted.
Finally, your voice came out in a whisper, hoarse and unsure.
"The fuck, Yoongi?"
"I don't deny it," he said again, slower this time. His head tilted slightly, studying you. "Because it's not entirely wrong."
A rush of heat flooded through youâanger, shock, confusion, something else, something deeper and more dangerous. "Not⊠entirely⊠wrong?" You echoed, blinking at him. "Are youâare you actually fucking insane?"
Yoongi exhaled sharply, like he was just as frustrated as you were, like you were the one being difficult. "Y/Nâ"
"No," you cut him off, pointing a finger at him. "No, you don't get to just drop that and act like it's nothing."
"I'm not acting like it's nothing," he countered, his voice still calm, still infuriatingly composed. "You wanted to know why I never denied it? That's why."
"You can't be fucking serious right now, you fuckâ" his body in your proximity startled you, but you let him pin you to the wall next to the mixing desk.
His hands caged you in, palms pressing against the wall on either side of your head. You felt the sharp inhale of his breath, the slow exhale, the tension buzzing between you like a live wire.
"You don't get it, do you?" His voice was quiet but razor-edged, his eyes dark and unwavering. "You've been running in circles trying to make me jealous, trying to get a reactionâ" his gaze flicked down to your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again, "pushing me like you want me to snap."
You listened. For once.
"You sat in that fucking booth with only your panties under that big shirtâ"
"My fucking shirtâ"
"My fucking shirt," he repeated, voice rough. "And you think I wouldn't become possessive? Think I didn't see the way you stretched in it, how you leaned in close, pretending like you didn't know exactly what you were doing?"
Your breath hitched. You did not realize he saw you this way.
You swallowed, trying to find solid ground beneath the sudden energy shift, but Yoongi wasn't giving you the chance.
"You wanted me to react?" His eyes burned into yours. "You wanted this?"
The heat between you became unbearable.
"Iâ" You started, but you had no words.
Because now, finally, Yoongi wasn't holding back.
And neither were you.
Your pulse hammered in your throat as his words sank in, wrapping around your ribs, tightening like a snare. You had been waitingâachingâfor a reaction, pushing buttons you hadn't even fully understood yourself. But now? Now, Yoongi was looking at you like he had already decided.
His breath was warm against your cheek, the space between you non-existent.
"Say it," he murmured.
You licked your lips, the movement not lost on him. "Say what?"
Yoongi let out a short, dark chuckle. "That you like it. That you like thisâthe way I look at you, the way I see you."
Your stomach flipped.
"You're so full of shit," you whispered, but there was no weight behind it but pure provocation.
His fingers twitched against the wall before he exhaled sharply and leaned in, just enough for your breaths to tangle.
"And you'll be full of me."
"You big enough?"Â
Oh, that did it.
A sharp, involuntary gasp left his lips and your body betrayed you before your mind could catch up. The air between you turned electric, charged with something too dangerous to name.
Yoongi's gaze darkened, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as if savouring the way your breath hitched when he looked at you that way. He bit down his lower lip before he spoke again, laying his palms on the flat surface of the table in front of the piano that lay on itâ
"There are two possibilities happening between usâ" He tilted his head slightly, gaze never wavering from yours, his voice a low rasp against your skin.
"Oneâwe make this official,â" He said it like it was inevitable, like it was a fact written in stone. "No more rumours, no more bullshit. No one else but us. Just you and me."
Your breath stuttered, your heart slamming against your ribs.
"And the second?" you whispered, barely able to form the words.
Yoongi smirked, slow and sinful, his fingers twitching against the wall before he leaned in, his mouth a breath away from yours.
"I keep writing my songs, keep filling my verses with filth about how I would fuck you good and hardâuntil you finally beg me to bury my cock in your cunt."
âAnd people will hear youâre mineââ
Your entire body went hot. Yoongi's smirk widened, watching the way your breath stuttered, your pupils blown wide. He tilted his head, gaze flicking down to your parted lips, his voice dropping even lower. Your thighs clenched a traitorous reaction that made his smirk turn predatory.
"Youâ"
"That's the difference between them and me, baby." His fingers ghosted over your waist, light enough to make you shiver. "They just talk. I fucking deliver."
You swallowed hard, your pulse thrumming so violently it was a wonder you were still standing.
"You're soâ"
"What?" Yoongi pressed in closer, his nose brushing against yours. "Say it."
You had no idea what you were going to say.
But when his fingers finally curled around your hip, pulling you flush against him, the words you should say, the ones that would stop this before it went too farâbefore you gave inâdied in your throat.
"Fucking thought so." He smirked again. That smirk. That fucking smirk.
It did something to you, something dangerous, something you weren't sure you could control. It made you want to wipe it off his faceâmaybe with a slap, maybe with your mouth.
Yoongi knew it, too.
He leaned in just a fraction closer, his breath hot against your cheek, his grip tightening on your hip as if daring you to push him away.
You didn't.
"See?" His voice was silk and smoke, smooth but lethal. "You love this. You love the way I get under your skin. The way I make you feel."
Your nails dug into your palms. "You don't know shit about what I feel."
Yoongi chuckled, low and rough. "Don't I?"
His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down your side, stopping just shy of indecency but still making you shudder.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured. "Tell me you don't want this, and I will."
It was the worst thing he could've said. Because the truthâthe one you refused to admit even to yourselfâwas that you didn't want him to stop. Ever. You were so fucking needy to be touched after you got to know that your dried spell had a sorcerer and it was him. So technically now, he should be the one breaking it. And he knew it.
Your silence was all the confirmation he needed to press his lips against your neck.
His hands were suddenly everywhereâgripping your waist, sliding up your thighs, spreading you open like he had every right to.
"You think I'm going to let you run your mouth, push me to the edge, and not do something about it?" His voice was a rasp, thick with hunger. "You think I don't see how badly you want this?"
Your breath hitched as his thigh pressed between yours, the friction making your knees buckle. His mouth found your jaw, teeth scraping over sensitive skin before he kissed a path down your throat, sucking, biting, claiming.
You barely had time to think before he gripped your wrist, guiding your hand downâdownâuntil your fingers brushed against him, hard and thick beneath his sweats. The sound that tore from his throat was pure sin.
"Feel that?" Yoongi growled, grinding against your palm. "That's what you do to me. That's what you fucking cause each time we're in this studio."
Your fingers flexed, a teasing squeeze that had his breath stuttering. He cursed under his breath, tilting your chin up with his free hand, forcing you to meet his gaze.
Dark. Devouring. Desperate.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured again, a cruel echo of earlier. But this time, there was no space between you, no restraint.
And you didn't.
Instead, you yanked his mouth to yours. Yoongi groaned into the kiss, the sound reverberating through you as his hands pushed under your shirt, fingers trailing over bare skin, leaving fire in their wake.
Your nails raked down his back as he lifted you effortlessly, pressing you harder against the wall.
His hips rolled, slow and devastating, and a moan ripped from your throat, shameless, wrecked.
"That's it, baby" he rasped, his forehead against yours, breath heavy. "That's the sound I've been waiting for."
His hand dipped lower, slipping past the band of your shorts, finding you soaked for him. Yoongi cursed, his fingers teasing, circling, before sliding through the wetness with devastating precision.
"Fuck," he groaned, voice hoarse. "You're already so fucking ready for me."
You didn't even get a chance to respond before he pushed a finger inside, then another, stretching you, filling you, working you open until you were trembling against him.
"Yoongiâ"
"I know," he hushed you, his lips brushing against your ear, his fingers moving faster, deeper. "I've got you, baby. Just take it."
And fuck, you did. You took everything he gave, your body writhing against his as pleasure built sharp and unbearable, spiralling higher, tighteningâ
"Come for me," he ordered, his voice dark, commanding. "Come on my fingers like the desperate little thing I know you are."
And when he curled his fingers just right, his thumb pressing where you needed it mostâ
You shattered.
Completely. Utterly.
Yoongi swallowed your cry with his mouth, dragging it out, his hand still moving, still milking every last bit of pleasure from you until you were shaking in his arms.
Then, as you barely caught your breath, his voice came again, low and teasing.
"Now," he murmured, undoing the string of his sweats, letting them fall.
"I'll fuck you hard that you'll forget about those smutty books you're readingâ"
Your body barely had time to recover before Yoongi was pressing closer, his fingers sliding away, leaving you aching and empty. But thenâthenâhis hands were on your hips, tugging your shorts down, peeling them away with agonizing slowness, like he wanted you to feel every second of it.
Your breath stuttered as he stepped back just enough to look at you, his dark gaze trailing over your bare, trembling form.
"Fucking perfect," he muttered, almost to himself, before his hands gripped your thighs and lifted you, forcing your legs around his waist.
The weight of him, the sheer heat of him, pressed right against your core, had you gasping, fingers digging into his shoulders. Yoongi groaned low in his throat, rolling his hips just enough for you to feel all of him, hard and thick and ready.
"Ainât big enough, huh?" he murmured, dragging his clothed crotch against your soaked heat. His voice was rough, strained. "Iâll show you how big I am."
Your nails bit into his skin, your body writhing against him as he kept teasing, kept torturing you with slow, precise movements. The friction had you panting, your forehead falling against his.
"Stop teasing," you managed, barely above a breath.
Yoongi chuckled, dark and knowing. "Look at you. So desperate for me already." His fingers gripped your jaw, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. "Tell me how much you want it."
You let out a sound between a whimper and a growl, rolling your hips against him in a silent plea. But that wasn't enough for him. Your heart racing, you felt his warm palm connect with your skin, a stinging sensation spreading through your buttocks as he spanked you. You let out a small yelp, but Yoongi didn't relent, his hand rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
"Say it." His voice was like gravel, low and demanding. "Say you want me to fuck you, Y/N. Say you need me." He pulled down his sweats enough so his cock sprang free from the confinement.
Your pride clashed with your need, the battle waging for only a moment before he rolled his hips again, pressing the thick head of his cock right against your entranceâand your resolve snapped.
"FuckâI need you," you gasped, your fingers twisting into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan. "Please, Yoongiâjust fuck me."
Something broke in him then.
With a guttural sound, he aligned himself and pushed inside, the stretch of him stealing the air from your lungs. He didn't stop, didn't hesitateâjust drove forward, sinking deep until he was fully sheathed inside you until there was no space between you, nothing left but the overwhelming, consuming feel of him.
"Fuck," Yoongi gritted out, his forehead dropping to yours. His hands flexed against your thighs like he was trying to hold himself back, to give you a moment. "So fucking tight."
You could barely breathe, barely think, pleasure and pain and something deeper rolling through you in waves. But then he shifted, just slightly, andâ
"Oh fuck," you gasped, your head falling back against the wall.
Yoongi's grip tightened, his breath hot against your skin. "Yeah?" He rolled his hips again, slow and deliberate, dragging himself out before thrusting back in, harder this time. Your moan was wrecked, brokenâexactly what he wanted.
"Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me," he murmured, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your throat, across your collarbone. "Taking me so fucking well."
Then he moved. Snapping his hips as hard as he could to make your back rub against the wall, to make your head spin from the bouncing on his thick cock that made you see so many constellations. Up and down, up and down. He felt so good inside you, filling you completely as his hips slammed against yours.
The force of his thrust made you cry out, your fingers tangled in his dark raven hair, which you so openly adored when he kept longer. His mouth crashed down on yours, swallowing your moans as he drove into you with a fierce intensity, each stroke building on the last.
His hand cupped your breast and his thumb brushed over your nipple. The touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the fierce way he was driving into you. Your back arched, pushing your breast further into his hand, and you felt his fingers close around it, squeezing softly. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and you moaned loudly, the sound lost in the kiss that still claimed your mouth. Yoongi's hips kept moving, each thrust building on the last, and his hand on your breast seemed to be pulling you closer to some unseen edge. His fingers tightened around your nipple, rolling it between them, and you felt yourself teetering on the brink of something explosive.
Yoongi groaned, his grip almost bruising now, his thrusts turning erratic. "You gonna come for me again?" he rasped, his hips thrusting into you harder, each one was met with your breath hitching in your throat before you moaned. Loud.
"Gonna fall apart on my cock?"
It was too muchâtoo good.
"I know what you want, love. What will make you cum around my cock."
Your body began to tense, your muscles coiling tighter and tighter as he spoke. "You want it rough," he growled, his thrusts becoming more savage, more primal.
"You want me to take you apart, piece by piece." His grip on your breast tightened, his fingers digging deep into your skin, and you felt yourself spiralling out of control.
His hand left your breast to envelope around your throat, his fingers wrapping tightly around your neck, his thumb pressing against the underside of your jaw. That was it. Your moans got even louder and he raised a brow. You felt a flutter in your chest as his grip tightened, his eyes burning with an intense hunger as he gazed into yours and he slowed down to observe your face that certainly did not hide any pleasure.
"Kinky," he rasped, his voice low and dirty. "So fucking kinky."
He held you in place, his grip on your throat tightening ever so slightly, he began to move his hips again, his cock stirring back to life inside you. His eyes burned with an intense desire, and you could feel the tension building in his body as he drove into you with slow, deliberate strokes.
"I'm going to fill you up, babe" he growled, his voice low and husky. "I'm going to make you take every last drop of me." And with that, he began to thrust into you harder again, faster again, his hips pounding against yours as he chased your release. You felt him swelling inside you, his cock growing thicker and hotter as he approached the edge.
Your orgasm crashed into you, and you could not even stop it. You wanted this to last until your body shuts down from all that pleasure he has given you. Your body locking up as pleasure burns through every nerve ending. You clenched around him, drawing a strangled moan from his lips, his hips snapping forward one last time before he broke. His release spilt deep inside you as he let out a low, guttural groan, his semen erupting into you in a hot, pulsing flood that warmed your walls. You felt him shudder and convulse above you, his body trembling with pleasure as he emptied himself into your waiting flesh
The sensation was overwhelming, the feeling of being filled and claimed by him almost too much to bear. His chest heaving with exertion and for a moment, neither of you moved.
"You're so fucking mine," he murmured, voice still thick with satisfaction. He lifted his head to meet your lips once more before he said.
"Don't you ever question my devotion for youâ" he started, panting after the little stunt you just pulled.Â
ââOr the size of my cock, doll.âÂ
You only smiled wickedly into his lips.Â
âYou like us role-playing, thoââ you started. Yoongi's grip on your waist tightened, his lips brushing over your collarbone as his breath warmed your skin. His hand slid lower, fingers tracing the curve of your body possessively.Â
"He could not stop talking about it the whole fucking night, babe."
"Who, Jimin?" he asked, his tone dripping with amusement, yet there was an underlying tension in it, like he was trying to keep himself in check to not turn you over and fuck you in the ass. Even though he had to thank Jimin for this fuck prompt he unknowingly gave you an idea of (such a mundane trope) and the final ride you two just had. The thanking will wait until whenever you decide you want Jimin to know about you two.
Of course, something similar happened at the start of your relationship and you could not help yourself to let him fuck you against that wall once again. This time with a similar scenario but slightly adjusted replicas.
You couldn't help but let out a small laugh, though it was edged with a hint of frustration. You shifted under his touch, your heart still racing from the intensity of the night.
"Yeah. Couldn't stop about how people talk about us fucking our brains out hereâ"
"But we areâ" his voice thick with the weight of his meaning, but his tone now softer than before. His mouth pressed against the sensitive skin just below your ear, and his hands pulled you closer, if that was even possible, as if to remind you of just how much he could claim you again and again and again.
You gasped, your body reacting to him in ways you couldn't control, and you felt a rush of vulnerability, knowing how deeply he could read you. "Yoongi," you breathed, trying to keep your composure, but he wasn't making it easy.
"Yeah, you can say that again," Yoongi whispered, his lips brushing against your ear before his teeth grazed the lobe, making your entire body shudder.
You swallowed hard, your head spinning. "I'm serious," you managed to say, even though your voice came out shaky. "Jiminâhe thinks I'm still under that dry spell cuz' everybody thinks we're doing itâ"
"Let him yap, love."
"Yeah I would, but he went to a point where he talked about how I'm gonna need to buy that Tesla robot to fuck me cuz' no living man will, thanks to you and your not-so-subtle hints that we're doing itâ"
"My not-so-subtle hints?" He chuckled.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes, feeling a mixture of amusement and frustration. "I mean, he was kinda making some good points," you teased, pretending to think it over. "We do have that whole 'will they, won't they' vibe going on."
Yoongi's fingers paused against your skin for a moment, as if he were considering your words, but then a slow, mischievous smirk crept onto his lips.
"What do you think, babe?"
"IâI think," you stammered, feeling the weight of the moment sink in, "I think we could've been doing a better damn good job of hiding it. But maybeâ" You hesitated, your heart beating wildly in your chest.
"Maybe it's time we stop pretending."
"Well, next time Jimin mentions our 'vibe,' I'm making him listen to a few of our 'studio sessions.'"
Your eyes widened in mock horror. "Yoongi!" You gave him a dramatic shiver, and he chuckled, wrapping his arms around you.
"Exactly," Yoongi said, smirking mischievously. "That'll shut him up real quick."
"Good luck," you teased, tapping his chest lightly. "Maybe he'll start talking about how lucky you are to have me in your corner."
"Lucky, huh?" he mused, pulling you in for a hug. "You're damn right I'm lucky."
You grinned, enjoying the easy banter, letting the tension slip away as you let him hold you. It wasn't about proving anything to anyoneâit was just the two of you, sharing this moment, enjoying each other's company and, of course, having a little fun at Jimin's expense.
"Waitâ" you just realised.
"You know about my smutty books?!"
He threw his head back and gave a loud throat laugh in response.
summary. Yoongi's stylist hates you so much for being the main reason why his perfectly pressed clothes are coming back wrinkled, why his buttons are missing, and why his touch-ups take twice as long, especially when the boy's schedule is tight and packed.Â
But what were you supposed to do when your boyfriend couldn't resist touching you even in the middle of his busy workday? And how could you help yourself not ruin his clothes when he's fucking the shit out of you roughly and impossibly good every time?
author's note. 120 followers in a month? holy shit thank u sooo much! it may not seemed a lot but it is for me. thank u for always showing love & support to my works âĄâĄ i am working hard to improve both in writing and using this platform lol. hope u like my little gift, lovelots!! âĄ
inspired by: ARIRANG standard vinyl yoongi's version, iykyk. i literally self-combusted when bighit released the blurred preview of his posterâ because he has no business looking so damn hot and sexy in those loosened tie, oh please!
Yoongi's stylist rolls her eyes the moment she sees you walking through the door, and it doesnât go unnoticed.
Sheâs probably still upset about what happened last weekâwhen the button of Yoongiâs pants mysteriously went missing after the two of you excused yourselves for a moment.
You can still picture her sewing a brand-new spare button onto his pants like her life depended on it because there was no time left before he had to film his part for their album promotion. Meanwhile, you were just standing beside her, skin warm and flushed, mouth spent, and knees red.
Yup, you were the one responsible for the missing button.
And yup, you gave your boyfriend a delicious blowjob that day.
Yoongiâs face lights up the moment he sees you strut your way toward him. Beside him is his make up artist making little touch ups of his make up and a staff member holding a mini fan to keep him from sweating too much.
âHey, pretty. You came,â he greets you with a soft kiss, hugging your frame a little tighter than he should.
âOf course. My whiny, needy boyfriend has been texting since this morning,â you tease as you return the gesture.
âYour fault for not staying over last night,â he quickly counters, obviously still upset that you went back to your apartment yesterday.
Yoongi has been your boyfriend for more than three years now. All of his friends and everyone in their company know about your relationship, but itâs still hidden from the fans and the general public.
You both like it that wayâfor extra privacy and security.
These past few weeks, youâve been staying at his house at his persistent request. But your landlord reached out the other day, asking if you could clear out your delivery packages, which had already piled up and were occupying the space at the security post.
You told Yoongi you badly needed to return to your apartment. Of course, he didnât like thatâbut he had no choice.
âStill mad about that?â you coo, linking your arm with his as you lean your weight against him.
The staff that had been surrounding him are long gone now, giving the two of you some space.
âNope, not mad at all. Iâm just saying youâre gonna pay for it later when we get home.â His tone is a little cocky, but you know heâs serious.
âHm. Can you just let it go? Itâs just one night.â
âI slept aloneâŠâ
âOkay, drama queen. Youâre being ridiculous,â you say with affectionate teasing.
He gives you a side-eye, lips curling upward. âGo on. Keep that attitude, and you wonât be able to walk tomorrow.â
The idea of him punishing you for leaving him alone last night totally excites you. But knowing your boyfriend and what heâs capable of in bed, the possibility of you not being able to walk tomorrow isnât far-fetched.
âCan I just make it up to you?â you ask, turning to face him and fluttering your lashes prettily to convince him.
âMhmm. We can arrange that. How about we take five?â
âOhâ you mean now?â you ask, feigning surprise.
âUh-huh. Yes.â
âBut youâre still working, baby. Letâs do it after,â you reason, hoping he wonât push it further.
âNo, Iâm not. As you can see, only Jimin and Hobi are working.â
Both your gazes dart toward the front, where Jimin and Hobi are busy posing for their unit photos.
âBesides,â he continues in a near whisper, âI was working the other day when I nutted in that pretty mouth of yours. Didnât seem like a problem then, did it?â
His hand comes up to your lips, slowly brushing the side of your mouth as if collecting something.
âGeez, Yoongi. Canât really keep your hands to yourself, huh?â you tease again, getting him all worked up.
You hadnât really planned on stopping by at this photoshoot. But when he sent you a picture of his look earlier, you almost touched yourself.
It doesnât help that youâre currently in your ovulation phase.
Seeing your ever-so-hot boyfriend wearing sleek slacks paired with a white polo, sleeves folded up to his elbows and a grey necktie, makes you want to jump on him so badly.
âNo, baby. I canât. Especially when youâre out here wearing that skirt, looking like a whole damn meal.â
Shivers run down your spine as he wraps his arms around your waist, his hand squeezing the soft skin there.
âEasy. Your co-workers are here,â you whisper into his ear as you feel him tense.
Yoongi isnât looking at you. His eyes are fixed on the other members working hard for their photos, but you know youâre occupying his mind right now. His flexing jaw is all the evidence you need.
You know all too well when your boyfriend starts acting like this. If he wants something, he better get itâor heâll start demanding it soon.
Especially when it comes to you.
The end of this exchange can only result in two scenarios. First, he could become whiny and desperate because you wonât let him touch you. Or second, he could lose his patience from all the teasing and take care of you the way he knows you prefer.
âI really donât care that much. Want to test that? Come with me and youâll see,â he mutters, voice deep and low.
âTempting,â you murmur, resting your head on his shoulder while his arms remain wrapped around you.
âSeriously, enough with the teasing, or Iâll be forced to really punish you when I get you alone.â
Yes. Run that patience thin. You need him to snap so he can rile you up later.
âI donât think you realize that youâre not the only one upset about last night,â you continue teasing.
âHmm? Yeah?â
âI had a hard time falling asleep last night. Iâm so used to you fucking me to sleep like itâs my lullaby.â
You feel his grip on your hips tighten.
âI wasnât very enthusiastic this morning either, because I woke up to my alarm instead of your dick stuffing me tight and full.â
His breathing grows heavier.
But youâre not done yet.
âWhen I showered this morning, I touched myself, wishing it was youââ
âThatâs it, lady. Youâre really making this hard for me.â
Your plan worked.
Yoongiâs face is now stern, jaws flexing, eyes dark as he grabs your hand and drags you toward the exit.
âHyung-nim! Iâm gonna take five,â he calls to his manager before the two of you leave the set.
Heâs not asking permission. Heâs just letting them know.
You have no idea where Yoongi is taking you until you find yourself in the area where the artistsâ RVs are parked.
He hastily opens the door of a silver RV with his name written on it. He lets you in first, and you step inside without question.
By the time Yoongi locks the door behind him, you barely have time to react. He already has you pinned against the built-in dresser, kissing you torridly.
His tongue demands entrance, and you gladly let him in, deepening the kiss. His mouth devours yours, teeth scraping your lips with rough hunger.
Your hands instinctively wrap around his neck, resting on his shoulders. Tiny whimpers escape your lips every time his body presses harder against yours as your bodies sway together.
You hear the subtle sound of his belt unbuckling, followed by the soft fabric of his pants brushing your feet.
Yoongiâs hands come to your head, gently pushing you downward as he breaks the kiss.
You happily oblige, sinking to your knees, âcause you know exactly what treat is waiting.
His hand remains on top of your head as you settle at eye level with his hips. His fat, flushed cock stands uprightâtall and beautiful.
You look up at him, meeting his gaze thatâs locked on you, lashes fluttering before you wrap your hand around him and guide him to your lips. You flick your tongue over his mushroom head, slowly sucking his tip and tasting the salty precum.
You swirl your tongue around his head while sucking softly, drawing a groan from him.
âHmmm, yes,â he hums quietly.
When you finish teasing the head, you release it with a soft pop. Without wasting any time, you take him into your mouthâdeep, but not quite all the way.
Yoongiâs length is longer than your mouth can fit, but you try your best. You gag slightly when his tip touches the back of your throat, signaling your limit.
Still, a few inches remain.
You pause, adjusting your mouth to his girth. Then you place your hand on his hips for support and bob your head down until his tip brushes your throat. One, two, three bobs, and his cock is fully coated in your saliva.
He groans in protest when your mouth leaves his shaft, but his complaints vanish when you lick a stripe from base to tip. Then you lower your head further, angling yourself so you can play with his balls.
Yoongiâs chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as you press soft, wet kisses across his sac while pumping his shaft. Once satisfied, your tongue traces the underside of his dick, focusing on the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes him spiral.
A shaky groan escapes him, and his hand grows heavier on your head.
âHoly shit⊠yes. Just like that. Do that again,â he moans breathlessly.
And you do. You make sure your tongue stays soft as you trace every vein along his underside.
Then his dick is back in your mouth againâall the way in your throat.
You hollow your cheeks and he feels the suction hit him like a jolt down his spine.Â
Mouth stretched obscenely wide around his girth, you started moving your head. Up and down, from base to tip, hitting your throat with gentle pressure each time you sink down. The slickness of your saliva lets you move faster. Your jaw starts to ache, but you like it.
Soon, spit gathers at the corners of your mouth, dripping messily down his shaft and over the hand pumping the rest of his length.
Yoongi loses every coherent thought. Low grunts and curses spill from his parted lips.
His hand slides to the back of your head, gripping your hair with a delicious pressure as you moan around him. The vibration makes his cock throb harder if itâs possible.
âEvery day I never forget to be grateful that I get to fuck this mouth,â he pants.
You blush at the compliment.
Yoongi watches you take his cock like the good girl you are, his dark eyes fixed on your mouth as his cock pushes in and out of you with slick obscene sounds coming from it.
His grip on your hair tightens. You know heâs close.
To your surprise, he steadies your head, stopping your movement. You look up at him, his cock still in your mouth.
âHold on, baby. Hold on,â he whispers, adjusting his stance.
Then he rolls his hips forward, testing a slow thrust.
âThis okay?â he asks.
You nod in approval.
Thatâs all it takes for him to push deeper into your mouth, his tip pushed all the way in, almost past your throat hitting a soft and warm wall, choking you out.
Yoongi begins fucking your mouth. His head tilts back, lips parted as he groans like heâs in pain.
At first his thrusts are slowâpulling out halfway before pushing back in painfully slowly.
When he sees youâve adjusted and arenât choking anymore, his pace quickens. Each thrust is short and fast, stretching your mouth wider as spit spills everywhere and your gags grow louder and wetter.
Soon enough the RV is filled with Yoongiâs low grunts and string of curses along with the slick sounds of âgawk, gawk, gawkâ coming out of your mouth.
âComingâfuckingâhell,â he groans.
A tidal wave of pleasure overtakes him. His thrusts lose their rhythm as he nears climax, so you take over.
You release his cock with a pop and start pumping his shaft relentlessly with your hand, squeezing him tighterâjust the way he likes.
âBaby, where do you want it?â you ask.
His head is still tilted back toward the ceiling. Only whimpers and broken groans escape him.
âBaby, tell me. Where?â
âMouthâfuckâin your mouth,â he manages breathlessly.
Even in his haze, Yoongi is considerate enough to choose your mouth. He doesnât want to trouble you by creating a mess on your clothes. Though if heâs gonna be honest, heâd love to cum all over your face and tits right now.
âNice, now look at me. Iâm down here,â you say softly, wanting him to see you swallow.
You watch as your boyfriend shudders beneath your touch. Your hand moves faster, controlled and firm, pushing him over the edge.
When you feel him throb in your grip, you open your mouth, tongue out, hovering his tip above it.
Hot ropes of thick white cum spill from his cock, splattering across your tongue and the roof of your mouth.
You keep pumping until heâs completely spent. Then you swallow every drop. Some spills at the corners of your mouth, and Yoongi watches as you collect it with your finger and lick it clean.
He helps you stand, pulling you into a kiss immediately, tasting himself on your lips.
When he finally pulls away, he squeezes your waist and murmurs,
âYour turn.â
âThought youâd never offer,â you say, tauntingly playing with his tie.
âYou kidding me? If it were up to me, Iâd fuck you in every corner of this RV,â he replies, his voice low and breathy.
His hands roam your thighs, pushing your short white skirt upward until your pink lace panties are revealed. His fingers caress your wet folds over the thin fabric, drawing a breathy whimper from you.
He hurriedly guides you onto the empty table, pushing you on your back as heâs about to lower himself between your legs.
âBaby, we donât have time for that. You need to get back soon,â you stop him.
âNeed to prep you first, so you can take me.â He swats your hand away as it reaches for his face.
âYouâre joking, right? The number of times Iâve taken your dickâIâm pretty sure I can manage without prep,â you chuckle.
You sit up and slowly unbutton your pink ruffled blouseâ three buttons out to reveal your breasts snug in your bra. You make sure to flaunt them in front of your boyfriend.
Then you turn, your back facing him as you lean forward against the table. Your ass presses against his bare cock, which is beginning to harden again.
âIf youâre planning to fuck me, you need to do it now before they call you back,â you tease, rocking your hips slowly, your skirt riding up to reveal your ass.
You hear Yoongi quietly gasp. His hand lands against your skin with force as he swats your butt. Before you can react, another slap follows, making you wince in pain.
âAhâshit,â you hiss.
His hand circles the red aching spot before he slaps it againâand again, and again.
Tears brim at the corners of your eyes as you try to endure the searing pain, unable to form any words.
âTrying to provoke me? Cute,â Yoongi chuckles.
âYoongi, pleaseâstop with the teasing.â
âHmm, I thought you loved teasing, the way you did it to me earlier.â
âI need you nowââ
âMhmm?â
Yoongi pushes your panties aside and bluntly shoves his hard cock against your entrance. You cry out, a mixture of pain and pleasure, as your walls stretch around his girthâbut he doesnât give you time to adjust.
He begins to thrust brutally, knocking the air from your lungs as your body scrapes against the smooth surface of the table.
âHands,â he commands.
You know what to do. You pull both hands behind your back, resting them just above your ass. Yoongi takes hold, making sure they stay locked in place.
Your face is pressed against the table, your hair a mess around you, and all you can do is whimper as he fucks you relentlessly.
The first few thrusts sting from the lack of prep, but as his cock drives into you, you grow wetter and wetter until the loud, slick sounds of your pussy being violated fill the RV.
Yoongiâs free hand moves to your throat, gripping just enough to make your breath falter. He lifts you, forcing you onto your feet. One leg is placed on the table while the other remains planted for balance.
The position opens you up further. He gives your ass one last slap before thrusting into you again.
All you can do is mewl as he moves with intensityâunyielding. Yoongi manhandles you, his touch rough and unrelentingâand you love every moment of it.
His hand moves to your exposed, swollen clit. Letting go of your hands, he works you over, sending waves of sensation through your body.
The feeling becomes overwhelming. His thrusts grow faster and shorter, hitting your sweet spot each time, while his fingers move in firm, repetitive motions against your clit. His hand tightens around your throat.
âToo muchââ you protest as everything begins to blur together.
âNo, itâs not,â Yoongi growls against your ear. He knows exactly what heâs doing.
Desperate for something to hold onto, your hands reach back, searching for himâbut Yoongi abruptly changes his rhythm. He pulls out completely, then slams back into you, making your eyes roll as your fingers latch onto his tie.
âYoongiâtoo much!â you protest again.
âI donât think so. Weâve been here before. Iâve fucked you like this plenty of timesâI know you can handle it,â he says, his voice deep and steady.
âHmmmâfucking shit!â you moan, words failing you.
âYes, baby, just like that. Show me how well you can take me. I know you can.â
Your grip tightens on his tie as you take every thrust.
âIâm comingâGodâohâyouâre impossible,â you mutter, breathless.
Feeling consumed and intoxicated, your body involuntarily collapses onto the table. Your face hits the smooth surface with a dull thud, but it doesnât make him stop from fucking your from behind.
Still gripping his tie, you pull him forward with you. The fabric tightens around his neck, forcing him to loosen it slightly.
âStand up, baby,â he says.
You donât moveâyou canât. You stay there, whimpering, gripping his tie as your nails scrape against the table.
âShit.â
Realizing you wonât get up, Yoongi grips your hips and focuses entirely on his thrusts. Heâs closeâbut you need to come first, so he pushes harder.
Your body jolts with a loud gasp when his tip brushes your g-spot. Noticing your reaction, he targets it, driving you toward your peak.
âYes! Yes! Yes! Holyâshitâthatâsâso good,â you cry as your orgasm crashes over you.
Your release spills around him, making every movement slicker, faster, deeperâuntil it sends him over the edge as well.
âInside?â he asks, breathless.
âInside.â
With that, Yoongi finishes inside you. Your walls clench around him as warmth floods through you, milking him completely.
When he finally pulls out, a mixture of your releases spills from your gaping hole.
A few seconds later, silence fills the RV once moreâbroken only by your heavy breathing as you both struggle to catch your breath.
The set is still hectic, yet somehow organized, when the two of you step back in.
Namjoon stands beneath the harsh studio lights, scanning the room like heâs searching for someoneâuntil his eyes land on Yoongi.
âHeâs here, finally!â Namjoon calls out to the director.
You watch as Yoongiâs makeup artist and hairstylist rush over, fussing over him, checking every detail as he makes his way across the set.
âYoongi, double time!â the director shouts through the megaphone.
The photoshoot starts the moment Yoongi reaches Namjoonâs side. You stay where you are, quietly observing like you always do, until a staff member monitoring the screen leans in and whispers something to the director.
âOkay, cut! Hold on a secondâwhy does Yoongi look like that?â the director says sharply, turning toward his stylist.
Shit.
Your gaze follows the stylist as she quickly gathers her things and hurries over to your boyfriend, clearly flustered.
âThe brief said clean and dapper. Why is his necktie like that?â the directorâs voice cuts through the noise.
And just like that, everyoneâs attention shifts to Yoongiâs loosened necktieâincluding yours.
You freeze.
You had fixed his outfit earlier in the RV, but you didnât think anything of it. It looked good on himâeffortless, naturalâyou assumed it was meant to be that way.
Then it hits you.
The way your hand had grips the same tie earlier. The way you pulled him closer as the two of you mess around.
Warmth rushes up your cheeks.
âCan we leave it like this?â Yoongi speaks up, calm and unbothered. âI like it. I think itâs better.â
The director glances at the staff beside him. They exchange a few quiet words you canât quite hear.
âFine. Leave it,â the director finally says.
The stylist exhales and steps back.
As everyone resets, Yoongi glances over at youâand winks.
You try to hold it in, but you canât stop the smile that spreads across your face.
additional notes. for those who are looking and waiting for 'sweetest vice' fic, i knowâ i knowwwww. sorry for keeping you waiting, just so you know, i'm working on it. proof-reading is something that i struggle with because the fic is written in english and i'm not a native english speaker, soooo that's one thing. also, i don't want to use AI for it, no, over my dead body.
'nway, i really really appreciate you for being patient and kind. i sometimes find myself wanting to cry as i'm editing it but i just go back to your messages and replies about how much you love that fic. so, thank you!
áŻâ SOMETHING ABOUT HIM IS MADE FOR SOMEBODY LIKE ME
genre. smut, one-shot [completed]
pairing. non-idol!bangtan, producer!yoongi x y/n, bestfriendâs sister to lovers
warnings. cussing, 4 years age gap, high sex-drive, under the influence of aphrodisiac, unprotected consensual sex.
word count. 10k
summary. Your brother, Namjoon, loves you far too much to leave you alone after your stupid ex-boyfriend dumped you. Determined to cheer you up, he insists on bringing you along as his plus one to his best friendâSeokjin, bachelorâs party. Growing up around his friends your entire life, neither you nor the rest of them find it strangeâitâs simply the way things have always been.
When Seokjin books the hotel rooms for the trip, an unfortunate oversight occurs. A hotel staff misses the reservation for your room due to a system glitch, resulting in a double bookingâand by the middle of the night, youâre left without a place to sleep.
With everyone else on the trip far too drunk and wasted to help solve the problem, you have little choice but to share a room with Yoongiâyour brotherâs closest best friend and, unfortunately, your long-time crush.
Everything was fine until you ate something you definitely shouldnât have.
author's note. i woke up one morning having this concept in mind. the boy is mine by ariana grande is on repeat the entire time im writing this piece. i think it's fun and fitted to publish for yoongi's birthday. a little late but still a sweet treat for everyone! đč
dedicating this to my forever starboy, yoongi â
You carefully open the trunk of the black SUV parked in front of your house while Jungkook, your best friend, helps you with your luggage that seemed heavy enough to be carrying a dead body.Â
Used to how he likes to run his mouth when it comes to you, you completely ignore his sharp antics as he rearranges the pile of suitcases like Tetris blocks, making sure nothing will topple over during the trip.
âThe hell shit are you carrying for a three-day beach trip?â Jungkook asked, catching his breath as he closed the trunk.
In your mind, youâre convinced itâs still too early to start bickering over nonsense, so you just simply raised your hand in the air for a high five, which he immediately acceptedâa gesture that no matter what the situation is, you know by heart that Jungkook will never turn down.
As you walk toward the other car where your brother was in, Jungkook begins complaining again. Saying itâs unfair that your ridiculously heavy suitcase is riding in his brotherâs car while you get to travel in Seokjinâs car with your brother.
The next thing you knew, he was already dragging you with him.
Jungkook has been your best friend for almost fifteen years now. He is the same age as you, and the two of you attended the same middle school, high school, and even the same college.
He is the younger half-brother of your brotherâs best friend of more than fifteen years, Yoongi. Since both of your brothers are simply inseparable, the two of you are basically forced to hang out with each other when youâre young and youâve been best friends since.
You and Jungkook may seem to squabble and banter all the time, but itâs just the way your friendship works. The level of your closeness can be compared to siblings.
People are always surprised when theyâre finding out that the two of you are just friends. Theyâre always insisting that you would make the perfect couple since youâre about the same age and very close.
But the thought of being in a romantic relationship with Jungkook makes your skin crawl for two main reasons.
First, Jungkook is a known fuckboy who enjoys casual relationships with different girls, sometimes at once and seems almost allergic to anything serious or stable.
Secondâand more importantlyâyou have secret romantic feelings for his brother, who is four years older than you. Youâve liked him since high school, and unfortunately for you, Jungkook knows about it. The only reason he keeps his mouth shut is because you threaten to cut ties with him the moment he tells anyoneâespecially his brother.
âReady to go?â Yoongi asked from the driverâs seat before starting the car, following the silver SUV in front that belongs to Seokjin when all of you in the car hummed in response.
Hoseok, your older cousinâwho is also part of your brotherâs circleâsits in the passenger seat, while you and Jungkook occupy the back.
Hoseok starts a conversation over your recent breakup and tries to offer you some comfort while still keeping things light after hearing that your boyfriend of six monthsânow your ex-boyfriendâdumps you because he wants to âfind himself.â
âIâm fine. Itâs a good-riddance type of breakup, really. I donât have enough energy to coddle his insecurities all the timeâand I love pink way too much to be the man in the relationship,â you murmured, uninterested in the topic.
Everything you say is true.
The only thing hurting right now is your ego. This is the first time youâve ever been dumped in your 26 years of existence. Not to be smug but youâre always used to guys doting over you.
You met your ex-boyfriend at the coffee shop across from your office. He happens to work around the same area. At first, you find him charming and cuteâand he feels the same about you. Thatâs how the relationship started.
But eventually, you realized he is incredibly insecure. He constantly projects his lack of confidence onto you and always assumes youâre flirting with your coworkers behind his back. The only reason you lasted six months with him is because the sex was good.
As someone with absolutely zero patience for childish and immature behavior, itâs hard for you to understand where his insecurities are coming from. Thankfully, he ended things before you did.
Meanwhile, everyone around youâespecially your brother Namjoonâis convinced youâre secretly depressed because of the breakup. That is also the reason why youâre currently in this car, following the SUV ahead carrying Seokjin, your brother, Seokjinâs brother Taehyung, and his best friend Jimin.
This three-day trip is supposed to be a celebrationâSeokjinâs bachelor party.
He is a year older than Yoongi and older than the rest of the guys. With the wedding happening next week, and after more than fifteen years of friendship, itâs only natural that your brother and his friends are all part of this trip.
âBesides, me and your brother never really liked your ex-boyfriend, Y/N,â Hoseok confessed, still trying to keep the conversation going.
âYeah, me too. Heâs weird,â Jungkook agrees from beside you, barely looking up from his phone. âI told you to stop dating guys your age.â
That comment immediately sparks curiosity from the two older guys sitting in front.
âYou like younger ones?â Hoseok gasped a little over dramatic, turning slightly in his seat to look back at you.
âNoââ
âShe likes OLDER,â Jungkook cuts in before you can reason out for yourself, emphasizing the word, older.
You tugged his hair in annoyance, making him hiss in pain. Shooting you a glare while rubbing the spot you pulled.
Your eyes unknowingly drift toward the rearview mirrorâand thatâs when you catch Yoongiâs gaze on you.
He glances at the mirror, meeting your eyes for a brief second before looking back at the road. The eye contact is quick, but it still makes your cheeks warm.
âReally? I didnât know that,â Hoseok replied, amused with your preferences in guys.
âThatâs because I donât tell anyone.â
âAbout how old?â
âUmm⊠maybe four or five years, ah yes around that age gapâ you answered your cousin as innocently as possible making sure to let Yoongi hear.
And you swear to Godâyou see the faintest smirk tug at Yoongiâs lips as you answer.
His subtle reaction sends a strange wave of nervous energy through your body, making you involuntarily press your thighs together as a jittery feeling settles deep in your stomach.
The car ride took almost three hours. You and Jungkook are drifting in and out of sleep in the back seat while the two older guys in front talk about random things the entire time.
Once the car is finally parked, Jungkook and Hoseok immediately start unloading the luggage, handing each suitcase over to its rightful owner. After making sure everything is out of the trunk and the car is safely locked, the group begins walking toward the resort and hotel Seokjin has booked.
While checking in, you keep bugging Jungkook about how hungry you areâand how ridiculously heavy your suitcase isâsuggesting he should carry yours, earning several death glares from him.
Jimin and Taehyung soon joined the two of you while the older guys stayed behind to settle everything at the front desk.
Just like with Jungkook, you are completely comfortable with Jimin and Taehyung. They are both a year older than you. Taehyung is Seokjinâs younger brother, while Jimin is his best friend.
Back in high school, Jimin and Jungkook are both part of the dance club, and later he attends the same college as the two of you. He even shares a few classes with Jungkook, which makes your group naturally close and easy with each other.
Once checked in, everyone is sent to their assigned rooms. Seokjin makes sure to book them all on the same floor.
Namjoon and Hoseok share a room.
Jungkook and Yoongi share another.
Jimin and Taehyung are assigned their shared room as well.
Meanwhile, you and Seokjin each get separate rooms since you donât have company with you.
Having a suite by yourself excites you, but there is one small issueâitâs a little farther away from the rest of the guys. While their suites are clustered together, yours sits at the far corner after turning left into a quieter hallway.
Before everyone part ways, Seokjin reminds the group that the yacht party will start at twelve, which also means lunch will be served there.
His friends really go all out for his bachelorâs party, renting a yacht for twelve hours starting at noon just for him.
You honestly have no idea what to expect. Itâs your first time attending a bachelorâs party, after all.
Still, you convince yourself that nothing too inappropriate will happen, considering the people involved. Even though you are well aware that your brotherâs friends are far from saints, you are also confident theyâre not reckless either.
While getting ready for the yacht party, your hair dryer suddenly stopped working in the middle of styling your hair. Your suite has a built-in one but itâs the traditional hair blower that uses heatâyours is the heatless one, to prevent further damage on your ginger-colored hair that youâve been maintaining for months now.
Annoyed, you grab your phone from the sink counter and text Jungkook, remembering that he uses the same one as yours.
You leave your room, dragging your half-open suitcase along the carpeted hallway on the way to Jungkook and Yoongiâs. Thankfully, you havenât unpacked your suitcase yet, which makes it easier to bring the whole thing with you since youâre not even halfway done getting ready.
When Yoongi opens the door after you knock, the first thing you notice is his frowning face as he takes in the sight of you standing there in nothing but a bathrobe, hauling your huge suitcase.
âUh⊠Jungkookâs there?â you asked when he doesnât immediately let you in.
Without a word, Yoongi steps aside to give you space, and you walk in like you own the place. Meanwhile, before closing the door, he briefly looks down the hallway to make sure you arenât being followed by anyone who might have seen you wandering around in just a bathrobe. Luckily, the corridor is empty.
As expected, Jungkook immediately starts bitching about you dragging your whole suitcase in their room. You just ignored him after reasoning out that itâs simply more convenient to finish getting ready in their suite instead of drying your hair here and then walking all the way back to your place afterward.
With three people sharing one bathroom, the process takes longer than expected. The delay eventually causes Seokjin to call Yoongi, asking where the hell everyone is.
As you fastened the large ivory ribbon around your half-ponytail, the two brothers kept calling your name relentlessly from outside the bathroom.
You stepped out with an annoyed expression, irritated at being rushed when you werenât even fully satisfied with your appearance.
The moment you emerge from the bathroom, both men fall completely silent, eyes wandering on your fit.
Youâre wearing an off-white ruffled bralette top with thin straps that hug your perfectly shaped breasts snugly, creating a soft cleavage. Paired with it is a long, flowy, tiered skirt in the same color, made of multiple soft ruffled layers that move gently as you walk. Underneath, youâre wearing plain white bikini bottoms in case you decide to swim later.
Itâs moments like this that makes Jungkook wish he isnât your best friend because you are completely his type and he will definitely hit on you.
If you werenât always so open about how you feel absolutely nothing romantic toward him, he would probably risk everything just to get you into bed with him.
Meanwhile, Yoongi, even without an obvious reaction showing, couldnât take his eyes off you.
Lunch is served on the yacht before the party officially begins. After eating, you hang out with the younglingsâJungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung on the lower deck while they roughhouse with each other like a bunch of overgrown kids.
A few hours after lunch, Seokjinâs bachelor party finally kicks off.
Youâre a little surprised when a group of pretty ladiesâdressed sexy but still appropriateâboard the yacht just before it sails out to the open sea.
You soon learn that they are your brotherâs present for Seokjin. Theyâre entertainers hired to keep the bachelor and his friends company.
It doesnât take long for the yacht to be filled with loud music, laughter, and the chaotic energy of a group of men with raging hormones. Alcohol flows freely, and everyone is paired up with a pretty girl as a company.
You managed to slip away and choose to settle on the higher part of the deck alone, watching the party unfold below you like a scene from a movie.
Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung are long gone the moment the party started. They abandoned you without hesitation in exchange for the full bachelor-party experience. You cannot blame the guys and their hormones though.
You pulled out your phone and secretly recorded a video of Jungkook with a girl sitting comfortably on his lap while he flirts with her in a semi-drunken, delirious way. You make a mental note to use the video against him for later.
Your eyes eventually land on a familiar figure lingering near the edge of the lower deck.
Yoongi.
He stands quietly as he watches his friends party like crazy, slowly sipping his whiskey on the rocks.
You watch as he lazily twirls the glass in his hand, allowing the ice to melt just enough before taking another sip. Thereâs something about him that makes your breath hitch, the kind of presence that leaves you helplessly captivated by him and to every little thing he does.
A brunette, honey-skinned girl with stunning proportions stands nearby, keeping him company. They talk at a polite distance from each other, and every now and then you see Yoongi chuckle, wondering what could it be that she said to make him respond like that.
What really amuses you, though, is the complete lack of physical contact between them. In the middle of a bachelor party filled with flirting, drinking, and chaos, Yoongi looks like the most respectful man on the entire boat. The awkward sight between him and his companion makes you giggle by yourself.
You know Yoongi is stern with his boundaries, he isnât fond of people in his space. During the time that heâs in a relationship with someone, his PDA is only limited to holding hands and grabbing waist.
But that alone isnât enough to make you question his demeanor in bed, especially since you remember one of his ex-girlfriends drunkenly sharing intimate details about their time together with Yoongi to both you and Jungkook, making you want to experience it on your own.
Growing up, you watch Yoongi grow up too. For fifteen years, he and your brother are practically inseparable, which means you see him almost every day as well.
Over the years, you witness a few of his unsuccessful relationships. His last one lasted three years, and at one point youâre convinced heâs going to propose to her any dayâuntil Jungkook casually told you that his brother ended things with his girlfriend.
That happened two years ago.
Since then, as far as you know, Yoongi hasnât been with anyone. For two whole years.
For a long time, you assume itâs because he isnât over his ex yet. But thanks to Jungkookâs constant reassurance that his brother is simply too busy with his job as a music producer. That makes you allow yourself to hold onto a quiet, ridiculous hope.
Maybeâjust maybeâyou still have a chance with the man who is four years older than you.
Eventually, the bachelor party winds down.
You spend the entire evening on the upper deck while the guys party below, thanks to the magazines stacked on the center table that kept you entertained.
When you finally check on them, the sight is disastrous. Everyone is completely wasted.
Taehyung and Hoseok are literally crawling across the floor. Seokjin drifts in and out of drunken sleep. Your brother looks only minutes away from passing out completely, and Jungkook is wandering around looking for you for some unknown reason, drooling slightly while muttering incoherent nonsense.
Yoongi is the only one who still seems remotely normal.
You have no idea how he managed to get all five men back to their hotel rooms easily. Meanwhile, you are stuck dragging Jungkookâs heavy, half-conscious body from the elevator to the suite he shares with Yoongi, and you feel like you might die halfway through the hallway.
Yoongi holds the door open for you as you guide Jungkook toward his bed.
Miraculously, the moment Jungkook reaches the room, he seems to regain a bit of consciousness. Without saying a word, he stumbles straight into the bathroom to take a shower.
You take that as your cue to leave.
After saying goodbye to Yoongi, you drag your heavy suitcaseâthe same one you brought into their suite earlierâback down the hallway toward your own room.
A few minutes after you leave, Jungkook steps out of the showerâstill half-drunkâand makes his way to Jimin and Taehyungâs room.
Yoongi is left alone.
Heâs about to set up his laptop and a few basic pieces of music equipment when his stomach growls in protest.
Rather than ordering room service, he decided to head down to the convenience store on the ground floor of the hotel.
As the elevator doors slide open, his eyes immediately land on you.
Youâre standing near the front desk with your suitcase beside you, looking distraught and on the verge of tears. A staff member is speaking to you apologetically while a man stands nearby, clearly involved in the situation. In your hand, your phone is pressed to your ear as you attempt to call your brother, Namjoon.
âWhat happened?â Your head snapped on your side when Yoongi approached, placing an arm around your shoulders. His voice is calm, but his eyes are fixed on the receptionist, demanding for an explanation.
The staff quickly explains the situation.
When Seokjin booked the hotel rooms, the reservation system had been experiencing a major glitch. Because of it, your room had been double-booked. The man standing across from you had actually reserved the room weeks before Seokjin made the booking.
The staff members are deeply apologetic. They promised a full refund on your room and offered a fifty percent discount on all the rooms under Seokjinâs name as compensation.
Ordinarily, transferring you to another room would have solved the problem immediately, but luck isnât on your side tonight.
Unfortunately, the entire hotel is fully bookedâthere isnât a single spare room available.
The receptionist then offers an alternative, a complimentary stay at their sister hotel located about ten minutes away. Desperate and exhausted, you quickly accepted the offer.
Yoongi, however, reacts very differently.
âNo,â he responded flatly while looking at the receptionist.
The single word is firm, almost cutting, as if the suggestion itself is ridiculous. Before the staff can say anything further, he simply adds, âWeâll figure it out,â and gently but decisively guides you away from the desk.
When you ask why he refused the offer, Yoongi only shrugs lightly.
âItâs not safe,â he explained. âYour brother will lose it in the morning if he finds out you moved to a different hotel.â
When the elevator returns to your floor, the two of you spend nearly an hour knocking on doors and ringing the phones of every one of the guys.
Too bad, everyone was far too drunk to hear anything. Not a single door opens.
With a quiet long sigh, Yoongi finally turns to you and offers the only solution left.
âYou can stay in my room,â he mumbled, biting the inside of his cheek. âJungkookâs in Jimin and Taehyungâs room anyway. Heâs probably passed out with them by now.â
For you, it isnât really a big deal.
Youâve shared space with Yoongi countless times beforeâjust the two of you alone. Whenever your brother leaves the two of you in the living room while he steps out, or when you end up cleaning the aftermath of one of your or Namjoonâs birthday parties together, it has always felt normal.
Comfortable, familiar, but this time feels different.
Maybe itâs because Yoongi quietly insists on carrying your heavy suitcase. Or maybe itâs because, without saying much, he slips off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders when he notices that youâre still wearing your yacht outfitâone that leaves more skin exposed than the chilly hallway allows.
Whatever the reason is, something about this moment feels unfamiliar in a way the two of you have never experienced before.
The distance between your eyebrows slowly disappears when Yoongi tells you to sleep on the floor using the extra mattress and thick comforter he had just requested through room service.
For a moment, you had almost convinced yourself that tonight might turn into something special. After all, you are spending the night with your long-time secret crush.
That hopeful thought fades quickly when he casually reminds you that he is not much of an affectionate person and youâre not an exception for it.
An internal battle immediately begins in your mindâwhether to protest or simply accept his rather cold offer. But the answer becomes clear just as quickly.
Yoongi is not Jungkook. You cannot act bratty toward him the way you do with your best friend. Yoongi, youâre certain, would not hesitate to throw you out of the room in the middle of the night if you pushed too far.
So you swallow your complaints.
After fixing your sleeping arrangement on the floorâthough not without a bit of sulkingâyou pull a few things from your suitcase and head toward the bathroom.
You take a quick shower and go through your skincare routine, but halfway through it your stomach begins to growl with hunger. You are far too sleepy and tired to eat a full meal, but luckily you notice a bar of chocolate wrapped in a fancy red wrapper tucked among Jungkook and Yoongiâs skincare products on the counter.
Thinking that itâs just another snack Jungkook likes to stash somewhere in his things, you open the chocolate and begin munching while continuing your routine.
Halfway through the bar, your sugar craving already feels satisfied. You neatly place the remaining bar at the far corner of the sink counter.
After brushing your teeth, you slip into your pair of black satin pajamasâsoft and comfortably loose.
When you step out of the bathroom, the suite lights are already dimmed.
Yoongi is sitting on the far side of the room, his back partially turned toward you as he works on his laptop. A pair of headphones rests over his ears, and the glow of the screen illuminates the sharp lines of his face.
Yoongi has always had a deep passion for music. Both he and your cousin Hoseok often stay over at your house late into the night, working alongside your brother. Namjoon frequently helps consult their lyrics, given that he is a writer and currently works as the editor-in-chief of a large publishing company.
You have always found yourself mesmerized every time Yoongi was in his element.
Tonightâs not an exception, even after he dismissed you to sleep on the floor while he enjoys the luxury of the huge, comfortable bed.
You scoffed silently at your own thoughts before settling into the soft comforter on your tiny makeshift bed, scrolling through your phone.
A few minutes passed, and you noticed something strange. Your heart rate begins to climb slowly for no clear reason. You lower your phone and stare up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what is causing the sudden flutter in your chest.Â
Instead, you just become aware of the faint beads of sweat forming along your forehead and the delicate line of your neck, trailing toward your collarbone. You feel hot even though the suiteâs air conditioner is blasting.
You try to ignore the weird discomfort and decide to focus on falling asleep.
But no matter how hard you try to relax, you keep getting distracted by how warm your body feels. Without even realizing it, you even push the comforter away from your body in an attempt to cool down.
The strange feeling doesnât fade. If anything, it only grows stronger.
You begin tossing and turning restlessly, unaware of how much the movement is starting to distract Yoongi from arranging the synth on the track heâs working on.
Fed up by distress in your body, you sit up abruptly and head straight for the bathroom.
Standing in front of the mirror, you study your reflection. Your skin looks unusually flushed. You cup your face in both hands, surprised by how warm it feels. Your cheeks are deeply tinted red, your eyes glossy, and in a strange way your entire complexion seems to glow.
You close your eyes and try to concentrate on what exactly is happening to your body.
The warmth continues to build low in your abdomen, spreading through you in a way that makes your breath catch. You bite your lower lip as you feel a sudden, undeniable awareness of your own body.
A quiet gasp escapes you when the realization hitsâyou are aroused.
You squeeze your thighs together once you're certain of the wetness settling on the thin fabric of your underwear. Of all the times you get to be horny, it has to be tonightâwhen the only other person in the suite is Yoongi.
You pondered for a moment if youâre entering your ovulation phase but being the person you are, you don't usually track those kinds of things.
Brushing off the weird timing of your arousal, you return to the small mattress on the floor beside the queen-sized bed and attempt once again to sleep.
But you really couldnât.
Your heartbeat continues to race, your body growing extremely warmer by the second, youâre almost panting. The sensation becomes increasingly overwhelming until your breathing grows heavier, slower, deeper.
Your legs pressed tightly together, afraid you might start grinding against nothing without meaning to. Your thoughts spiral with deep urge, and it feels as though you might completely lose control of yourself at any moment.
After several more tossing and turning, you stood up again and made your way to the bathroom for the second time.
You convince yourself that perhaps you simply need to peeâthat maybe doing so will help you feel better. You focus entirely on that thought, hoping it will calm the storm raging inside you.
Meanwhile, Yoongi hears everything.
Every restless shift, uneven breaths, every small shuffle across the floor during the last twenty minutes.
At first he tries to ignore it, but eventually curiosity begins to creep in.
The suite is quiet enough that he can hear the faint sound of your muffled sniffing partnered with heavy huffing sounds of your exhales from the bathroom. A knot of worry tightens in his chest.
For a moment, he wonders if you absolutely hated sleeping on the floorâyou started crying.
The second you step out of the bathroom, Yoongi closes his laptop and turns toward you.
âY/N, you okay?â he asked, his eyes carefully studying you.
You stop just outside the bathroom door, caught completely off guard by him suddenly paying attention to you. Not knowing how to answer, you simply stand there, staring back at him in silence contemplating whether to share your non-problem with him.
Even in the dim lighting, Yoongi immediately notices that something is off.
He can see how flushed your cheeks are, the gloss in your eyes, the sweat on your forehead thatâs dampening your baby hairs.
With genuine concern, he rises from his seat and walks toward you.
Without hesitation, he lifts the back of his hand to your forehead to check your temperature. Then after, both of his large hands move to cup the sides of your neck, feeling for any sign of a fever.
The contact makes you bite down on your lower lip as you are forced to meet his eyes.
Yoongi is much taller than you, which means you have to tilt your head upward to look at him. The position gives him the perfect opportunity to study your face more closely.
Now he notices everything more.
Your doe eyes, redness creeping on your eyeline, lashes fluttering softly in a way that feels almost unintentionally sexy. The deep crimson blush stained across your cheeks. And your lipsâlooking so soft, slightly parted, and impossibly full.
For the first time that night, Yoongi finds himself momentarily fazed.
You have no idea where the sudden boldness comes from, but when Yoongi asks if youâre okay, you find yourself reaching for one of the hands resting against your neck. Fingers slowly intertwine with his, holding on as if he is the only steady thing in the room.
âYoongi⊠can you help me⊠please?â you whispered. Your voice is softâso quiet that he almost doesnât catch it the first time.
For a few seconds, Yoongi just simply stares at you.
It takes him a moment to process what youâve said, his attention momentarily distracted by how sultry your voice sounds, making him wonder if you always talk like this.
Then something seemed to click in his brain. The familiarity of the signs youâre showing.
Yoongi abruptly pulls away and strides into the bathroom in a rush, catching you in surprise.
His eyes scan the large vanity countertop until they land on the half-eaten chocolate bar you had been snacking on earlier.
He stopped for a moment as if frozen. You watch his eyes widen slightly and his mouth slowly forms a small O as the realization sinks in.
âYou ate this?â he was frowning when he asked.
Clueless and confused, you nod silently.
âBut why?â he pressed again, his tone sharper nowâalmost accusatory, laced with disbelief, like you did something very stupid.
Your brows knit together by how small you feel right now.
âGod forbid, I was hungry. Are you really upset that I ate your chocolate?â you spat, running a hand through your hair.
âExcept itâs not just chocolate,â he responded, almost cutting you off. âThis isnât ordinary chocolate. Itâs an aphrodisiac. Hoseok bought it as a prank gift for Jin-hyungâs party.â
Now itâs your turn to be dumbfounded.
The heat in your body seems to intensify all at once, spreading through you so strongly that it feels like youâre gonna pass out at any moment.
You quickly snatch the sweet treat from Yoongiâs hand, scanning the packaging.
The moment you confirm what it is, your stomach drops.
Your knees gave out, and you dramatically sank down onto the floor, suddenly wanting to cry from how overwhelming and embarrassing everything feels.
You donât miss the part on the label explaining that the sweets can cause an intense increase in libido depending on how much is consumed.
And considering that the bar is nearly gone, it explains exactly why you feel like humping everything around like a dog in-heat.
Yoongiâs expression becomes soft, crouching down to help you back to your feet. He guides you gently toward the bed and sits you down, his actions more sympathetic than anything else.
From how warm your skin feels under his touch, he can only imagine how strange this must feel for you.
âWhat should I do, Yoongi? Should I go to the hospital?â you dreaded, your eyes pleading as you looked straight at him.
âYou just have to let it pass,â he crooned.
He remains standing beside the bed, watching you as you roll your eyes at him.
âUgh! I wish Jungkook were the one here with me right now.â
Yoongiâs brows immediately furrow at that.
For a brief moment, he wonders if youâre actually suggesting doing something far more intimate with his younger brother given your current state.
âI feel so hot⊠and weird⊠andâugh! This is starting to frustrate me!â you groaned, fanning your face with both hands.
Realizing heâs likely going to be stuck dealing with this situation for the rest of the night, Yoongi suggested grabbing some ice cream from the convenience store downstairs with a heavy sigh.
Desperate for anything that might cool you down, you eagerly agreed.
A few minutes later, youâre standing in front of the freezer, examining the different flavors of mochi ice cream available.
Just as youâre deciding which one to get, the man who had originally booked your hotel room, the man who was just with you at the front desk earlier, approaches once he sees you, a couple of beers in his hand.
He apologizes once more for the mix-up, though you quickly reassure him that it wasnât his fault.
He then followed to ask if you managed to find somewhere to stay for the night. You happily tell him that you did.
Not too far away, Yoongi stands at a distance, watching the interaction.
From where heâs standing, itâs painfully obvious that the guy is trying to flirt with you.
And when Yoongi overhears him inviting you to come hang out in his suiteâto watch a movie with a few of his friendsâhis patience finally runs thin.
Without a word, he walks over, takes the mochi ice cream from your hand, and gently but firmly pulls you along toward the cashier.
By the time you step outside the store together, the stranger is already forgotten.
âYouâve got to be kidding me,â Yoongi exclaimed, eyebrows knitting together.
You glance at him, irritated and confused.
âWhat did I do this time?â
âReally?â he says incredulously. âYou were actually considering going with a stranger for a âmovie nightâ just because youâre feeling horny right now?â
You choked slightly at how casually he said those words.
Immediately, you smack his arm lightly while glancing around nervously to make sure no one overheard him.
âWhat the hell is wrong with you?!â you whispered sharply. âWhat if someone heard you and thinks Iâm actually horny?!â
âAre you not?â he taunted with a smug little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
You shoved him lightly again, even more annoyed this time.
Without another word, you marched ahead toward the suite, leaving him behind.
But as you walk away, you hear him chuckle softly.
When the two of you returned to the hotel suite, Yoongi immediately settled back in front of his laptop and resumed working, quietly eating his ice cream. He leaves you to yourselfâand to your problem thatâs still simmering deep inside your body.
You end up lying across his bed, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Yoongi notices, but says nothing. He is fairly certain that the last thing youâll be doing right now is sleep.
You are hoping that the weird sensation coursing through you would fade soon.
Instead, it grows worse.
Much worse.
Your body turns unbearably sensitive, every nerve suddenly heightened. There is an irritating restlessness beneath your skinâa persistent itch you cannot seem to satisfy no matter how hard you try to ignore it.
A dull ache begins forming low in your abdomen once more, as though you are holding something back that desperately wants to be released.
Without even realizing it, you begin practicing controlled breathingâslow, deliberate inhales followed by steady exhalesâtrying to clear your mind and calm the relentless pounding of your heart.
The thought of touching yourself creeps quietly into your mind.
You glance toward Yoongi, considering to straddle on his lap and begin to hump him until youâre satisfied.
You cursed yourself with your dirty thoughts.
He probably wouldnât mind if you slipped into the bathroom for a moment⊠right?
Letting out a deep sigh, you grab your phone and attempt to call Jungkook again, hoping desperately that he might finally answer and somehow rescue you from this miserable situation.
But the line rings unanswered.
Across the room, Yoongi is having his own struggle.
For the past fifteen minutes, his eyes have been fixed on his laptop screen, but his mind has been anywhere but on his work. Your constant shifting on the bed, the soft rustling of sheets, and the occasional frustrated grunt escaping your lips make it nearly impossible for him to concentrate.
Eventually, he exhales heavily and shuts the laptop completely this time.
He stood up, stretching his arms briefly before walking over to the bed.
From where he stands beside it, he looks down at youâclearly taking in the rather pitiful state youâre in.
âGo back to your bed,â he said flatly. âIâm going to sleep now.â
He spares you a quick glance before looking away, his attention drifting somewhere else around the room.
You didnât move. You didnât even answer.
Instead, you remained sprawled across the center of the queen-sized bed, gazing up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Your lashes flutter slowly, your lips slightly parted as you continue trying to regulate your breathing. Your chest rises and falls unevenly, your skin still flushed with warmth.
So fucking arousing.
âAish⊠hurry up!â he groans under his breath, attempting to sound annoyedâthough it doesnât quite land the way he intends.
Just by looking at you, he already knows youâre not planning to budge.
He was slightly surprised when you suddenly raises your hand toward him, the gesture resembling a silent request to help you stand up.
With a faint frown, he reaches out and takes your hand, offering a help.
But you have something entirely different in mind.
Using the last bit of strength you have left, you suddenly tug him forward instead. He stumbles toward you in surprise, and in one swift motion your free hand grips the collar of his shirt.
Caught completely off guard, Yoongi loses his balance as he falls forward over you.
His reflexes are quick enough for him to brace his arms on either side of your head before his full weight can land on you. Still, the lower half of his body collides lightly with yours, pressing down just enough to draw a soft whimper from your lips at the unexpected contact.
âThe fuck youâre doing, Y/N?â he asked, his voice low, breathing ragged, and slightly surprised.
His heart began to pound, brain couldnât function properly as much.
You hold his gaze without any trace of backing down.
Slowly, your arms slide around his neck, preventing him from easily pulling away if he tries.
âCan you help me just this once, Yoongi?â you muttered, your eyes pleading with unmistakable desperation.
Yoongi wanted to say something back but he couldnât, completely distracted by how you say his name just now, so sultry, it almost sounded like a moan.
Before he can protest, you lift your head from the pillow and press your lips against his.
The kiss is gentle. Your soft lips move against his with careful curiosity, exploring slowly. You nibble lightly at his lower lip, tugging at it before your tongue brushes against his mouth in a timid invitation.
It is tender. Careful. Almost hesitant.
Realizing that Yoongi wasnât responding at all, a wave of shame crashes over you.
Your mind immediately spirals, overthinking the worst conclusions.
You should stop. You should pull away before you embarrass yourself any further.
Reluctantly, you begin to withdraw, your lips leaving his. Your eyes sting slightly as the weight of the moment settles in your chest. Your arms loosen from around his neck.
When you open your eyes again, you find Yoongi staring directly at you.
His gaze is fixedâintense, almost analyticalâas if heâs studying you and waiting to see what youâll do next.
Shock is written plainly across his face.
He hasnât moved. He hasnât said a word.
The silence is eating you alive.
âIââ
You tried to speak but was cut off when his hand suddenly slid to the back of your neck.
In one swift motion, he pulls you closer, crashing his lips against yours.
This time, the kiss is bold, craving, hungry, no trace of hesitation.
Your lips move against each other with growing urgency, your breaths mingling between them. His kiss is confident, consuming, and when his lips press firmly against yours, tiny whimpers of pleasure escape your mouth without permission.
His tongue prod your lips, demanding for an entrance instead of asking. He is using his mouth skillfully to devour you, waking up a much more intense desire.
His mouth slowly maneuvers over your jaw, placing wet kisses on your soft skin as you angle your head to give him more access. He traces your skin with his tongue while nibbling on your ears, swiping over the sensitive spots of your lobes.
âYes, just like that.â You moaned, your hands wrapping in his locks, tugging at it softly while youâre getting drunk by the tingling feeling poking on your spine.
âYou sure âbout this?â he whispered against your skin, asking for your permission.
The feeling of his mouth exploring your body, combined with the subtle weight of him hovering over you, tickles something deep in your brain. All you can do is moan in response and nod repeatedly, desperate for him to continue.
Your hands slide under his shirt, slowly drawing circles on his softly toned stomach as you savor the sensation of his mouth working against your neckâsucking on your supple skin until it leaves dark purple marks.
Every time his tongue circles a spot heâs marked, easing the sharp sting from sucking too hard, it feels like youâre getting drunk.
You involuntarily started grinding underneath his body, making sure to rub your core against his growing bulgeâ earning deep quiet groans from him.
As his mouth is busy leaving marks and love bites on your neck, his hands work on your pajamas, hastily unbuttoning them one by one until your plump, full breasts are freed. He left your neck for a while to adore your delicate body.
âSo fucking sexy,â before thinking, the words already slipped out of his mouth.
He claimed your lips once again, passionate like the first time. When his fingers grazed the edge of your pants, your breath hitched, mouth slightly parted. He took it as an opportunity to swirl his tongue all over yours.
You lifted your hips slightly as he deliberately pulled down your pajamas with your panties all at once, making it easier to be discarded.
His hands were rough against your soft skin, the coldness of the steel from his rings touches your delicate thighs giving a thrill of excitement.
Once youâre fully naked underneath him, Yoongi propped himself up, hurriedly taking off his shirt and pants while looking at you. Eyes wandering on your beautiful body.
You do exactly the same, heavy lidded eyes are focused on him while he undresses. Once he successfully discarded his boxers, you see his massive hard cock slightly swaying as it hangs out.
Absent-mindedly, you licked your lips at his size, drawing a smirk on Yoongiâs lips.
You folded your knees upward, thighs slightly apart, giving him a good angle of your leaking hole.
Yoongi stares intently at you, cursing himself repeatedly in his head as he realizes his best friendâs sister is completely naked in front of him.
When you notice Yoongi staring at you for too long, a worry crosses your chestâthinking he changed his mind, that he might not be up for it after all.
You rose, kneeling on the bed, as you sat on them.
He just stands there, contemplating, his knees brushing the edge of the bed while his hand slowly strokes his cock, eyes locked on you.
âThereâs still chocolate left, if you need it,â you murmured softly, your voice teasing slightly to mask the sudden awkwardness.
âH-huh?â he asked, as if he didnât hear you the first time.
âI said, thereâs still chocolate left,â you repeated. âYou know, in case you needed help,â you continued.
Yoongi scoffed at your words. âI donât need help, Y/N. Iâm already painfully hard, as you can see,â he teased.
Your gaze drops to his cock as he continues stroking it slowly.
âThen why arenât you touching me? Second guessing?â you pressed again, bold and direct, though the softness in your voice betrays a hint of worry that he might be having second thoughts.
âNo, baby,â he cooed, his free hand moving to the side of your cheek, gently tracing your skin.
Your stomach flutters at the nickname.
Gathering enough courage, you slowly reach for his throbbing cock.
âCan I?â you asked for permission. He nods.
You bring your palm to your mouth, spit on it, then gently wrap your hand around him, spreading your saliva so your grip glides smoothly. Using your thumb, you carefully collect the precum leaking at his tip and spread it over his plush mushroom head.
You notice his hand, which had been caressing your cheek, drop to his side. His head falls back, eyes closing, mouth slightly parted, breath growing heavyâclear signs he enjoys what youâre doing.
You continue stroking him, feeling the friction of his shaft against your soft palms, tracing every angry vein, sending shivers up your spine.
Bringing your mouth close to his throbbing head, you spit on it again, then press your tongue flat to his tip, tasting the salty precum as you gently suck on it. When you release his head, it makes a nice popping sound, followed by a deep grunt from Yoongi.
You glance at him, checking if it hurts, but all you see is pure pleasure on his face.
You flatten your tongue and lick a slow stripe from base to head, then you flick your tongue over his tip once more, swirling it on his slit before going back to his base, placing soft kisses all over his balls then for the second time, licking a slow stripe from the base to his tip. Tongue wet and warm, your nose grazing the skin of his length.
âFucking hellâŠâ Yoongi let out a throaty curse, drunk and breathless.
Yoongi cups your jaw with one hand, taking his cock in the other, giving it a few shallow strokes before gliding the tip along your lips, teasing you.
âFuck, Y/N, your brotherâs gonna kill me,â he murmured, eyes fixed on his tip swirling along your plumped lips.
A soft grin tugs at your lips as you look up at him, making sure to flutter your lashes a little sexier.
âBut hell, youâre so attractive right now, it feels like a sin not to touch you,â he continued, his voice deep and low, the kind that makes girls go crazy over with.
His hand leaves your jaw and grips your hair in a makeshift ponytail.
âIâll just deal with your him later,â he whispered, lightly slapping his cock against your face.
âMhmm, open up for me, baby.â
Itâs not a requestâitâs an order you willingly follow.
Yoongi shoves his massive, aching cock inside your mouth, broken curses slipping from his lips. His hand in your hair provides support as he continues to push himself.
Another delicious moan escapes his lips once his tip touches the back of your throat. Thanks to your nonexistent gag reflex, Yoongi feels like heâs floating in euphoria.
Your eyes start to water from how full your mouth is, your jaw aching from the stretch, yet thereâs still part of him that canât fit entirely.
Just his size alone is enough to make you wet. Yoongi is thick rather than long, but you still estimated heâs almost six inches with a fat girth.
A sudden memory flashesâthe first time you touched yourself back in high school, imagining it was him, losing count of how many times you moaned his name.
Back in reality, you place your hand on his hips and take over. Slowly, bobbing your head, taking his cock in and out of your mouth, your free hand is pumping the remaining of his length.
Drool dipping down your chin as you take him further down, hollowing your cheeks, pace increasing but consistent.
Yoongi couldnât help but to watch you take his cock, plump lips stretched obscenely wide around his girth, eyes glossy, and looking so fucking pretty while giving him the best blowjob of his life.
You notice his grip on your hair tighteningâyou know heâs close. But to your surprise, Yoongi stops you. He says he doesnât want to finish yet with just your mouth.
âNow lay down for me, baby.â he instructed, finally letting go of everything thatâs restraining him.
âDamn, youâre so beautiful.â
The compliment was a slip, Yoongi is so mesmerized with you tonight, he seemed to forget how to act properly with a girl in bed.
You tried to hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks, but itâs already too late.
âYou know Iâll still let you fuck me tonight even without these flattering words, right?â you counter playfully.
Yoongi, who is hovering over you, looks directly into your eyes, his expression suddenly firm.
âIâm not the type to compliment girls just to get in their pants. We can just sleep now, and Iâll still think youâre beautiful when we wake up in the morning.â
Something about his words makes your stomach twist. A false hope begins to glimmer in your heart.
In the silence, your mind starts wondering if there might be a chance that Yoongi could like you romantically.
Your thoughts are instantly cut off when Yoongi starts sucking on your nipple while his free hand roughly massages the other, as if he has been craving it.
You let out a soft whimper, remembering how sensitive you are, and your body begins grinding against the pleasurable feeling.
Yoongi nips at the bud of your nipple, nibbles on the soft skin around it, and sucks on it hard enough to leave a markâas if claiming whatâs his.
While he is busy playing with your breasts, your hand swiftly moves in between your bodies until you find his cock. Slowly, you give it a few pumps before gliding it along the lips of your cunt, collecting your own arousal.
Yoongi jolts at the sudden contact, biting your skin a little too hard and making you hiss in pain.
The next thing you hear is his muffled curses as he buries his face into your heavy breasts.
You know now that gliding his tip along your leaking cunt makes his head spin, so you keep doing it until it starts feeling too much for you as well.
Both of you are panting from uncontrollable lust and arousal. Yoongi props himself up and kneels between your legs.
âShit! I donât have any spare condoms,â he realizes, frustration evident on his face.
Yoongi came to this bachelorâs party with no intention of getting laid, which is why he didnât bother bringing condoms with him. And without having someone in his life for nearly two years, he never felt the need to keep one in his wallet.
âIâI got tested recently when I broke up with my ex, and I havenât stopped taking my birth control,â you stated, slightly embarrassed by the sudden TMI.
âMy last screening was almost two years ago,â he confessed, and you can see the hesitation and aching disappointment creeping into his expression.
âWhen was the last time you had sex?â you asked boldly in return, not really caring to know if heâs clean, you know he is, but deep down you just wanted to know if he has someone in his life recently, despite knowing he is single.
âTwo years ago.â
His answer desperately lingers in your mind. You have no idea that Yoongi hasnât been sexually active.
You tried not to overreact, but this is news to you.
Yoongi is a very attractive manâno one can deny that, especially since he decided to grow his hair long. Anyone who looks at him can tell heâs a decent man: well-spoken, a gentleman, and financially stable for his age.
Heâs a highly sought-after producer in the industry, collaborating left and right with well-known artists. He has his own apartment and his own car.
A very eligible bachelor that could easily be getting different girls every night if he wanted.
âFuck! Iâll drop by the convenience store real quick.â Yoongi is about to get off the bed, panic creeping into his voice as he noticed you havenât responded.
You grab his hand, stopping him.
âHey, Iâm okay with it. Youâre not going anywhere,â your voice speaks desperation.
âYou sure? I donât want you to feel pressured,â he replied, his voice soothing your nerves.
âYoongi, pleaseâŠâ
âPlease what, baby?â
A playful smirk is back on his face upon hearing your desperate pleas.
âI canât wait anymore⊠mhmm want you inside me.â
There is a shift in the air. The sexual tension between you grows thicker with every passing second.
Yoongi positions himself back between your legs. He lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder while the other rested against his hip.
He takes his still-hard cock, giving it a few lazy pumps until precum leaks from the tip, then aligns himself to your entrance. He spits onto you, the saliva landing directly on your clit, then uses the tip of his cock to spread it along your cunt as added lubrication.
âRelax for me, baby.â
He massages your clit a few times with his long digits before suddenly dipping three fingers into your leaking hole, pumping it aggressively a few times making sure you are prepped. A sultry whimper escapes you, followed quickly by soft grunts of frustration when he pulls them out just as suddenly, leaving you craving more.
He slowly pushes his cock into your hole, giving you time to adjust.
His cock is so fat forcing your tight walls to stretch around him, snug, slippery, and tight. The mix of pain and pleasure makes you gasp for air, while heâs biting his lip to keep himself from slamming deeper too fast.
Broken curses and series of moans of repeated, âyes, yes, yesâ fill the quiet of the room, your whimpers are high and breathy, while his are low, deep, almost turning into desperate grunts.
âJust a little more,â he grunts against your ear.
Your nails are digging to the back of his shoulders as you can feel the drag of every vein of his cock along your velvety walls until his length is fully sheathed inside you.
Yoongi stopped momentarily so you can fully adjust to the stretch. Your breaths are heavy as you feel the thick pressure settling deep in your belly as if your body was being filled too full.
You canât help but to clench around him repeatedly when you become aware of a swollen spot on your belly where his cock bulges from inside of you.
He gently presses on the spot, sending extreme pleasure to your core.
âOkay to fuck you now, baby?â he asked, cocky and proud.
After a few eager nods from you, Yoongi starts movingâdeliberate and slow. He pulls halfway out before thrusting fully back inside with force.
He notices the pain registering on your face as he rams into you, so he brings his thumb back to your clit, pressing against it, making sure to hit the bundle of nerves while drawing slow circles to distract you from the discomfort.
When he sees your expression shift from pain to pleasure, he takes it as a sign to quicken his pace.
Your cunt releases more wetness while Yoongi continues to play with your clit, making it easier for his cock to glide in and out of your tight hole. A feeling that makes him curse himself for how good it was.
His slow, deep thrusts soon turn into shorter, faster ones.
Yoongi fucks you with intentionâstrong and brutal. His eyes remain fixed on you, watching you lose yourself as he drives into your cunt again and again.
His hands move to grope your breasts, which bounces deliciously in sync with his thrusts.
All you can do is moan beneath him, screaming his name over and over as both pain and pleasure take over your body.
Maybe itâs the aphrodisiac. Maybe itâs the feelings youâve hidden for him for so long. Either way, this is the best sex of your life.
Yoongi shifts his position, bringing both your legs onto his hips as you automatically wrap them around him. He bends forward to kiss your lips while continuing to fuck you.
His movements remain relentless and steady, shoving himself fully inside you each time, giving you some of his weight whenever his pelvis meets the lips of your cunt.
âOh my god! Oh god, oh godâright there! Yes! Yes!â
You cry out in pleasure when Yoongi begins hitting your g-spot. Your nails further claw down his back, making him hiss at the mixture of pain and pleasure.
Losing your mind is an understatement.
âYoongi, Iâm gonna comeâoh fuck! Donât stop,â you choked out as warmth pools in your lower abdomen.
âYes, come for me, baby. You deserve it.â
A few more direct thrusts against your g-spot sends you over the edge.
Yoongi feels your walls tighten and pulse around his cock, followed by a rush of warm liquid spilling from your cunt as he continues thrusting deeply and slowlyâstill rubbing your overly sensitive clit while you ride out your orgasm.
As your peak begins to fade, Yoongi quickens his pace once again, chasing his own climax.
His hips snap fast and short with brutal force while his lips nip and bite at your neck.
You noticed how loud heâs getting, moaning your name repeatedly and muttering broken curses in between as his thrusts become sloppy and unevenâa clear sign heâs close.
âCan I come inside, baby?â he asked, almost pleading, his face buried in the crook of your neck, voice low and breathless.
âYesâŠâ you answered back without hesitation, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your body.
âY/N⊠babyâŠâ he cooed between heavy breaths.
âYes, Yoongi, yes⊠all you want.â
Yoongi cried out a long, guttural moanâthe kind that made you squeeze your eyes shut because of how intensely arousing it sounds.
Still bucking his hips, you feel hot ropes of liquid shooting deep inside you. You also feel his teeth grazing the skin of your neck, careful enough not to hurt you but still sending delicious sensation through your body.
You absentmindedly bite your lower lip when you realize heâs coming more than the normal amount. His release begins spilling out of your cunt as he lazily keeps thrusting his spent cock, yet he still isnât done.
It makes you wonder when was the last time he even touched himself.
A few moments later, Yoongiâs body fully collapses on top of you.
Your hand moves to the back of his head, slowly stroking his long hair as he keeps his face buried against your neck.
âHell, did it really take me this long to risk everything for you?â
Yoongiâs words are clearâyouâre sure you heard them rightâbut you still struggle to understand what he means.
You want to ask him. You want to know if thereâs even the slightest chance that he likes you too.
But no words came out.
With his head resting near your chest, you wonder if he can hear how loudly your heart is beating right now.
The ray of sunlight hitting directly across your face slowly pulls you out from slumber. Your eyes flutter open, still heavy with exhaustion, and you attempt to shift your body away from the blinding light.
But a weight draped over your back makes it difficult to move.
Still half lost in the haze of the previous night, your mind slowly begins piecing things together. A heavy arm is wrapped securely around your waist, holding you close. At the same time, you become aware of a warm presence nestled against the back of your neckâsteady breaths brushing softly against your skin.
Yoongi is spooning you from behind.
A small smile spreads across your lips. You have imagined something like this for years.
There has always been something about Yoongi that draws you to himâsomething quiet and magnetic that captured your attention long ago, back when you were still in high school, despite the age gap between you.
Through all your attempts to catch his attention over time, it is almost amusing that your brother, Namjoon, never once noticed that among all the people in his circle, you treated Yoongi differently.
Even while quietly admiring him from afar, you never stopped yourself from dating other people. Still, none of those relationships ever lasted very long.
Because, somewhere deep down, you have always been hoping for a chance with him.
And now, it is actually happening.
You feel Yoongi stir slightly behind you, his arm shifting just enough to loosen its hold. Taking the opportunity, you gently turn your body to face him.
âGood morning,â you greeted softly, smiling as you brush a few strands of his long bangs away from his face.
Instead of answering right away, Yoongi leans forward and presses a soft kiss against your forehead. Then another against the tip of your nose.
And finally, a brief peck on your lips.
Heat instantly rises to your cheeks.
âFeeling better now?â he asked with his bedroom voice, eyes still adjusting to the morning light filtering into the suite.
âMhm,â you nod. Then, after a small pause, you add, âBut Iâm sore.â
A quiet chuckle escapes him.
âCan we stay like this for a while?â he murmured, pulling you a little closer against his chest.
Then quietly, âIâm not sure if Iâll still be able to hold you like this once I tell Namjoon what happened.â
You blink in surprise at his sudden openness.
Tilting your head slightly, you search his face.
âWe donât have to tell them what happened,â you suggested gently, hoping to ease whatever worry he might be feeling.
This time Yoongi looks directly at you. A small crease forms between his brows as he frowns slightly.
âI donât date in secret, Y/N.â
Your eyes widened in surprise, thinking you were suddenly hallucinating.
âDATE??â
Your sudden outburst startled him, and for a brief moment the confidence in his expression falters. He mentally curses himself for jumping ahead without properly asking you first.
âI thought you liked meââ
âYou knew?!â you interrupted.
Yoongi nods sheepishly.
âJungkook told meââ
âThat fuckerâ I swear to Godââ
âBabyâŠâ Yoongi murmured softly, cutting off your mini rant with a calming tone as he pulled you again closer to his chest. You gladly snuggled against him.
âIâm sorry if I startled you. We can take it slow,â he mumbled, his gaze steady and sincere as he watched your reaction. âYou know⊠get to know each other better before we start dating. Assuming your brother doesnât kill me first when I tell him.â
You hold his gaze for a moment.
Then you shook your head.
âFuck taking it slowâand fuck Namjoon. Itâs my decision if I want to date you now,â you said firmly before leaning forward to place a few soft pecks on his lips.
A smile spreads across Yoongiâs face.
He shifts slightly, about to lean over you and deepen the kissâ
When suddenly the suite door swings open. Both of your heads snap toward the doorway.
Standing there is Jungkook, who very clearly has just woken up.
For a split second he freezes, eyes widening as he realizes he has just walked in on his older brother sharing a bed with someone.
âShit!â Jungkook panicked, quickly stepping back out and pulling the door closed again.
Just seconds later, the door swings open once moreâthis time with added force.
âY/N? What the hell?!â Jungkook blurted out in disbelief as he strides into the room and shuts the door behind him.
He stares at the two of you, clearly stunned by the sight.
Yoongi is already preparing to kick him out, but you instinctively pull the comforter higher around yourself, curling closer to Yoongi in embarrassment.
Your eyes follow Jungkook as he casually walks toward the bathroom.
The moment he disappears inside, you lean closer to Yoongi and whisper hurriedly into his ear.
âYoongi⊠Iâm still naked.â
Your face burns at the realization that Jungkookâyour best friendâjust saw you in bed with his brother, fully naked under the thick comforter, but he doesnât know that, right?
âThe hell do you want, Jungkook? Can you get out?â Yoongi called toward the bathroom, his tone calm despite the situation.
âTook you long enough, hyung,â Jungkook teases as he steps back out.
âFuck you. Get out,â Yoongi barked, rolling his eyes, though you can see a restrained smile tugging at his lips.
âOkay, okayâI just needed this.â Jungkook raises a hand, showing the toothbrush and toothpaste he grabbed from the sink as he walks toward the door.
But before stepping out, he pauses dramatically.
A mischievous grin spreads across his face as he tilts his head back slightly, tongue poking on the inside of his cheeks cockily, hands resting on his hips.
âYouâre so dead when Namjoon-hyung finds out,â he teased his brother with a laugh.
And then he disappears, closing the door behind him.
Silence settles in the room again. Thatâs when a realization quietly dawns on you.
The real reason Jungkook never once tried to make a move on you all these years is because he knows.
title: mami pt 3: k*ller (m)
series: mami | mami 2: triptych | masterlist
pairing: battle rappers!myg/knj x reader(f) , jhs x reader(f)đÂ
rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; battle rap au , roommates auÂ
summary: after you have a conversation with yoongi, things start to twist and muddle in your head. but when work gets hard, you need to blow off steamâturns out, all you needed was a heated encounter. with your roommate.Â
note: heavy 00s vibes, they are all menaces, including reader what can i sayđŠ, yâall thereâs a lot in here lmao, but trust me!!!, reader is greedy and i encourage it
note 2: again this is super unedited i kinda just went off the rails and said thatâs good letâs postÂ
warnings: language, tension, namjoon in grey sweats yikes!!!!!, yoongi being irritating in tanks??, jung hoseok is MAD mad, what is happening, feelingsâą, reader is just so fun istg, stressing, nsfw scenes, angst..?, jung hoseok what is your gd problem, wet hairâŠâŠ., namgi bickering lmao, competitive as hell namgi, yoongi is just a warning himself, blanket kicking scenes LMAO IM SORRY, yes yoongi is a massive problem but so is everyone else, namjoon on the phone....... yeah
nsfw warnings: under the cut and there are a lot again lol
drop date: april 24th, 2026, 7:18pm estÂ
word count: 9.7k of messy messy rapline | mood: here
nsfw warnings: cursing, choking, smut scenes, uhhhh kissing is considered nsfw here, especially with who itâs with!!!!, cowgirl, breast play, wet wet wet, and even wetter, âŠâŠsomeone makes you squirtâŠ., but whoâŠ, protected sex, rough sex, basically we get put through a mattress lol, Feelings??, sauve as hell rapline, is that it?, chains, always those, i think that's it, maybe a little angst??, yes angst
Clad in only a simple tank and sweatpants, Yoongi lazily leans on the back kitchen counter, hair framing his face and eyes downward as heâs busy peeling a small, vibrant clementine.Â
When you donât speak, he slowly lifts his gaze. And his dark rasp shakes you straight down to your bare, curling toes,Â
âYou have fun?âÂ
Youâre so in shock that your knees almost knock together, mouth struggling to form words in a coherent order, âYoongi, whatâre youâ doingââ
âI live here, genius.â
âYou⊠And Joonââ
âJoon? Cute.â
âIâwhat are you even doing upââÂ
âNeed a ride?â
You pause, suddenly forced to make a decision with your mind still lust-laced and dizzy. But you finally decide to turn his offer down, which is the best choice considering it would be far too much hassle for him to know you live so close. âI can manage.â
âItâs late as fuck.â Yoongi pushes off the counter before chucking his peels in a trashcan. God, do his bangs really have to shift like that when he turns? Can you focus on anything else? âLemme drive you. Unless you wanna stand on the back of his pedal bike.â
âUhh.â
Shit, you donât want anyone knowing where you live. Which happens to be very, very close. âMy friend can scoop me,â you respond, still unmoving like it would further disturb the surrounding air.
ââŠStill weird.â
And yet Yoongi disrupts it himself. You quickly flip him off as you text, asking a question to his laugh as you hit send, âIs she still here, too?â
The answer is quick and bored, âNah.â
Figures. âYou donât let them stay, huh.â
At this, Yoongi takes slow strides to your leaning form, eyes roaming over every exhausted inch and holding a spark you havenât seen in them before.Â
When he reaches your silence, his hands softly tug your hips, and you suddenly notice how his thick sweatpants accentuate the fit of his tank annoyingly well. âWanna find out?â
âYou whore,â you meekly grit, starting to push him away before he growls. âYouâve never taken me hoââ
âGoddamn, he went hard.â
Shit. Your hand flies to your neck. âOh, fuck, really?â
âYeah.â
Flicking up a brow, you grow very, very curious. âAs if you didnât do the same with whoever that was?â
âMm.â He leans on an elbow next to your still frame. âDonât fuckin spill, either.â
âThat youâre roomies?â
âYeah. Weâve known each other for years before moving over here.â
âYouâre scheming, huh.â
He only smiles before flicking a finger over your nose.
Itâs fucking genius, if not borderline criminal. âSo what, you take south side and he takes west?â
âSmart.â He gives you a look of approval. âWhy stay in the same circles when we can win both?â
âWell, shit,â you exhale, eyes roaming the floor in thought before you drop your jaw in frustration. âWait, you even played me! Fuckers!â
Yoongi immediately laughs, and you can very much smell his breathâfull of peppermint. Interesting.Â
But he doesnât notice your observing stare. âI didnât know youâd run into him. How do you even know each other?â
âI see him at the gym.â
âMm.â A sage nod. âGuess itâs not surprising.â
You look away, a little hurt that neither of them told you but having no basis of why they would. Itâs clearly not like they tell each other when theyâre bringing people home.
But still, you pout. âCanât believe yâall.â
âWhat are we gonna do with you.â
We? Him included? Irony seems to leak from his puffed lips tonight. âClearly you wonât do anythiââ
A door opens and snips your accusation in half, and you snap your head to see Namjoon leaving his room in a rush, eyes darting between both of you from the end of the hallway. âOh, youâre⊠Oh.â
âAh,â you start, âHi.â
âUhh.â
âShe wonât tell.â
âK.â He keeps his stare, blinking sleep off before tilting his head at you. âYou leaving?â
Damn, why are you feeling so sheepish? âYeah.. I shouldâve told you before. I donât, umm.â You feel the weight of Yoongiâs stare and Namjoonâs awaiting expression, and they both clash in your gut. âItâs not you. I just donât ever stay.âÂ
âOh.â Namjoon walks down the hall, his grey sweats and lack of a shirt making you so fucking weak youâre already mentally stumbling. When he speaks, you trip even harder, scraped by his drowsy rasp, âYou couldâve just told me. I wouldâve gotten you a ride.â
That wouldâve still meant he would type in your address or see it after you did it for him. You like the sentiment, though. âMaybe next time,â you tease with a wink.Â
Thank goodness heâs easily placated. If things got weird already with Yoongi right here?Â
âWait,â Joon blurts, mind whirring behind those eyes, âYou said you followed Gloss, but. I didnât know yâall knew each other.â
Oh. Uhh..Â
When you speak, you ignore Yoongiâs curious yet amused look, astounded that he even let you talk first, âSomething like that.â
Instead, the man chuckles in arrogance right after. âSomething like that, yeah,â he says through a lopsided line. âGonna give her a ride home.â
âNo need,â you stop him with a hand, and they both zero in on your nails. âI⊠uhh.âÂ
Shit. You really donât want to call a ride for the same complex, and you definitely donât want them knowing youâre a walk away. So when you look down at your phone, a white lie slides out of your mouth, and you have to deal with a choice, âMy ride said theyâre gonna be awhile, so...â
Both of them look at each other.
âI could just stay⊠If thatâs cool.â
For the first time probably ever, both Namjoon and Yoongi are silent. But in their brief pause, you just inspect your nails and wonder if you should switch them up again. Maybe back to that set you had at the beginning of last month? You really keep coming back to this color combo, though. âBut donât get any ideas if I do. I just wanna shower and sleepââ
âYou can sleep with me,â they both respond in unison, and you can barely hold in your laugh when an argument sprouts.
âShe was just with you.â
âMy bed is better.â
âWe have the same one?â
âMineâs bigger.â
âIt is not.â
âWhoâs the one that brought her here?â
You halt them, sparing their neighbors from a verbal sparring match and not wanting to think about that last part.Â
Because youâre still a little hurt that one of them really hasnât taken you here, and the same guy falls a little too quiet.
When you finally offer your own suggestion, Yoongi looks at you first. âIâll take the couch.âÂ
âNah,â Namjoon rejects immediately, walking forward and heading your way. âIâll take it. Use my room.âÂ
Fuck, this man is fine and considerate? âNo no, Iâm cool with it.â
âYou sure?â
âIâve slept in much worse places,â you assure, bringing up many, many terrible reminders in your head. âAnd I think you both need some good sleep, too.âÂ
âUse my shower then,â Yoongi finally pipes up, and both you and Joon pin him with shock. âI got clothes you can use, too.â
Oh. This is⊠This is new.Â
Blinking, you canât help but swallow your inner thoughts, wondering why heâs offering and a little giddy about it. Is this Yoongi being accommodating? Or jealous? Either way, itâs adorable coming from him.
Well. If both of them are offering to take care of you, youâll gladly take them up on it. This is downright delightful. How do you just keep winning?
âYou guys decide,â you say with arms folded, pretending to be huffy and internally grinning. Watching their competitive natures collide in real time is just too fun.Â
But finally, Namjoon flexes his jaw before heading into the kitchen for water,
âYou use my shower next.âÂ
When you feel Yoongi visibly exhale at your side? This is when itâs undeniable.Â
These guys are just big teddy bears. Caustic on the mic and absolutely fiendish when it comes to wordplay and demolition, theyâre just boys at the end of the day. And itâs so endearing you find yourself sinking more and more into these apartment walls.
No no. Get real. You have aspirations and dreams. Donât get too caught up before you achieve them.Â
But itâs okay to let go for just a bit. So your eyes follow Namjoon like a fool, winking and beaming at his growing, quiet smile.
To which Yoongi hums at. âYou hungry?â
âNot yet.â
âK.â
âI might be later, though. So yâall better feed me.â
They have varying levels of mirthy scoffs, and you go into the kitchen to ask Joon for a water, too, which heâs already handing to you.Â
âThat thing you did,â you start, knowing you have both of their attentions, âWith your fingers.. Do that next time, too.âÂ
While you really do want Namjoon to do whatever the fuck he just did with you, youâre also showing him thereâs no reason to be jealous. If he is.Â
And he pulls you in for a kiss, smiling and chuckling at your little bit of shyness. Because he tamed the fuck out of you tonight, and you will give him all the softness you got left. Itâs only fair.
âWhatever you want,â he whispers to your ear.Â
Humming, you slide a hand along his arm. âGood to know.â When you scratch just a tad, only you can hear his breath catch. âGuess Iâll go clean up your mess now.â
âGonna take me hours to clean up yours.â
âMm. Good problems.â
âDonât I fuckinâ know it.â
This man is too suave and itâs a goddamn problem.Â
When you leave Namjoonâs side with a quickened heart rate, Yoongiâs still on the wall with his phone, foot propped on the floorboard before he sees your look of satisfaction.Â
And he actually waits for you before you follow him to his room.Â
â
â
In terms of aesthetics, Yoongiâs room is different from Namjoonâs despite being the same level of minimal. Where Joon has posters of rappers and shelves of books and vinyls, Yoongi has basketball players and what looks like production equipment. But they both have desks littered with sheets of paper, journals, and writing utensils, trash cans mostly filled with balled up scraps.
Itâs actually⊠inspiring. They really do the work and it clearly, clearly shows.
âYou just gonna stand there?â
âNo,â you say, petulant. âJust donât know when Iâd ever be back so Iâm taking it all in.â
Itâs kinda true. Probably actually true. But you canât force him to do anything when it comes to you, so if this is your only chance then youâre taking advantage.
Though⊠he did offer for you to just sleep through the night with him⊠What does that mean?
Turning with a mind full of thoughts, you see Yoongi quietly watching from his closet before his voice drifts across carpet,
âCome here.â
Silent, you go to stand in front before he pulls you in and slowly pins you against an empty wall. And being in a smaller space with him so close? Strangely, you feel comfortable and a little at home, if only because this is how you both usually end up anyway.Â
At home. Irony is dripping from your lips, too.Â
âYouâve never taken me home,â you pout to his mouth, deciding to be vulnerable and hating it. âWhy?â
You expect to be dismissed. Or even just given an offhanded comment or a quick joke.Â
So youâre completely thrown when Yoongi chooses to kiss the side of your neck that isnât marked to hell, one slow pass after the other.
Ah. Heâs avoiding your question.Â
Thatâs fine. Heâll be a much harder one to crack, you assume. Definitely seems a lot more private than most, but youâre the same way so itâs not like you have room to talkâ
âCus youâd never leave,â he murmurs against your skin, going for your shoulder.Â
Oh.
Wait, what?
If heâs assuming things about you, heâll be sorry to note that youâd surpass his expectations. But under his fucking impeccable kissing and godforaken cologne, your reply comes out a lot less confident than youâd prefer,Â
âGimme some credit. Iâd show some restraint.â
âI wouldnât.â
âHmm?â
You get kissed on your jaw before you can register what he means, and he falls really silent after letting up, eyes on your lips as he quietly admits,Â
âIâm saying Iâd keep you here.â
âŠOh. Oh, thatâsâŠÂ
You blink in stunned silence, stomach flipping when he glances at your eyes before kissing your neck again so languidly it lulls you into a trance. âYouâd⊠do thatâŠ?â
âMaybe so.â He brings you into his pelvis, hands rounding to rest just behind your hips. âBut I know Iâd make you wanna stay anyway.âÂ
âProve it later,â you challenge with a hitch. âYou donât know me.â
âI think Iâm proving it now,â he corrects with confidence, chuckling deep when your arms sling over his shoulders. âArenât I.â
You kiss his neck in response, and he chuckles into his groan because he knows what it means.Â
Fuck, his skin feels divine. And his breath is full of peppermint and clean and you sense no trace of whatever you saw him doing earlier. Itâs a strange contrast to how heâs acted around you before. You donât doubt that heâs done this same exact thing with someone else after eating you outâjust like youâve done before. Itâs nothing special.Â
So why does your chest constrict?
âFine,â Yoongi breathes you in, clutching at your neck. âThere is another reason.â
You freeze. Wondering what the hell he means and washing over with anxiety. âWhat?â
Another reason he never takes you home? That canât be good.Â
Maybe itâs a good thing you havenât gone home with him before, if heâs not even comfortable saying it outright then the two of you arenât meant to be more than ships passing in the night.
âIâŠâ He sighs, touching his forehead to yours. âI never asked cus I know what would happen.â
Wait. What the hell does that mean? Why is Yoongi being so damn cryptic? âWhy? Iâm a fun time.â
He huffs away from your face. âThatâs exactly why.âÂ
You stare, and stare some more.
âI,â he laughs again, and itâs not a joyful one. âI even thought about getting your number a thousand times. And couldnât even ask for that.â
Your chest heaves. What is Yoongi saying? Whatâs gotten into him? This man is fearless on stage, who is this guy that canât even look you in the eye right now? âI donât get it, Yoongi. You donât know me but you donât have to be scared of me, so whatâsâŠâ
Oh. You donât like that tiny slanted smile at all.Â
âIf youâre going steady with him, donât worry about what I wanna say.â When he pushes off the wall, his hand slides off slow. Deep in thought, he turns and goes for a shirt hanging from his rack. âHere. Your favorite.â
He means the color. Your stomach feels funny. âHowâd you know?â
âYour nails,â Yoongi responds offhandedly as he fishes sweats from a drawer. âThereâs a color you use a lot.â
What. The actual fuck. âOh. Well, shit.â
He doesnât mention what you just accused him of, but itâs in his eyes. His whole face. And you are a damn fool.Â
When Yoongi hands you a baggy pair of pants, you slowly take it, brain overloaded with thoughts. âThereâs extra toothbrushes under the sink. You can use anything in there, too. Just put everything back in the same spot.âÂ
âK.âÂ
He just said a lot of vulnerable shit. What the hell are you supposed to do? How are you supposed to walk out of here knowing what you know now?Â
Youâre not gonna address any of it. That would require way too much thinking and feelings on your own part and you need space to unpack your own shit.Â
But you do stop him from leaving his closet, waiting until he turns around to notice your hand on his wrist. âYou brushed your teeth.. Why?â
His lips close while his brows slightly bend.
And what he says to the side of his doorframe makes your heart fall a few clouds down, flipping your world and rocking you off balance entirely,
âShe didnât taste like you.âÂ
Yoongi means it. You know it in your bones.
And if he didnât move just out of your reach. And if you werenât taking the couch and sleeping in here instead.Â
Something may have shifted even more than it already has tonight.Â
Because your heart is starting to beat in two different cadences. Over, and over, and over.
Fuck space.
âCome here,â you whoosh out, spinning Yoongi so hard he rams you back into a wall. And finally, your mouths collide, with you attacking his lips just as much as he does yours. You fully taste peppermint and nothing else and that is crazy considering how much he had to do to be this clean and fuck his kissing is perfect.Â
Yoongi knows exactly what to do with you. And he knows exactly what to do to pitch you over the edge in a second. Nails rake into his stupid hair before you feel his annoying hands all over your neck, his fingers all over your head, his chest all over your heartâ
Outright fear shoves him back, and your breaths are the only two elements of sound when he freezes a few steps away. Exhale. Exhale. A swallow. Another one.
That wasâŠ
He looksâŠ
Fuck.
You use what little logic you have left to speedwalk past Yoongiâs shoulder.
Knowing heâs letting you dip because itâs whatâs best for both of you.Â
â
â
Namjoon is a gentleman when you come back into his bedroom after pacing a hole in the living room, holding off your shower time a slight tad. From his desk chair, he asks if youâre okay staying and you tell him itâs fine since you do know both of them.
âAlso,â he breathes out. âYouâre stunning.â
That came out of nowhere. âOh.. I know, but thank you.â
Leaning back in his chair, the man lets out a breathy laugh. âFuck, I love how you know that. I was just gonna say.. Well.â He fidgets. âDonât let me keep you down.â
âWhat?â
âLike.. Yeah. I love going on dates with you and seeing you at my thing.. I dunno, it made me happy as fuck.â He then scratches an ear. âBut I know you got a lot going on so itâs okay ifââ
âAre you done with me?â
Immediately, Namjoon shoots up and walks straight to your squared shoulders, cradling your chin and responding so deep your mind reels. âDid I say that, baby girl?â
âNo.â
âIâm just saying,â he smoothes a hand over your arm. âIâm okay if Iâm not the only thing. Iâve seen what youâve been doing. Itâs incredible. So if you donât have time, itâs okay.âÂ
âWhat are you saying?â
âIâll be there when you need me,â he says. âIâm okay with just going with the flow. I know you already know, butâuhhâif you wanna see other people, itâs cool.âÂ
âYou⊠You sure?â Blinking, you frown. Thereâs an explanation for this switch up and itâs existing and haunting you from the other room. âIs this because of Yoongi?â
His face cannot lie. âKinda, yeah.âÂ
âOh.â
âI saw how you looked at him.â Namjoon slides his hands down, and you follow those long fingers and curl your heart when they do. âAnd even more than that, I saw how he looked at you.â
Ah. That makes you bite down hard. âWeâve known each other for awhile, thatâs all.â
âI donât think thatâs all. But seriously, you donât have to pretend or anything around me. Iâm a big guy, I can take it.â
âHey, same here.â You lift a hand to smooth the stubble on his chin. âDonât let me hold you down, either.â
âI am more than happy with you doing anything to me.â
âJoon.â You give him a little pat. âIâm serious.â
âAnd Iâm not?â
Your lips purse. âIf youâre really okay with it, I am, too.â When you slip arms around his strong form, you sigh into his chest. âBut Iâm having so much fun with you.â
He circles you in warmth immediately. âFuck, same here.â He laughs. âYou really got me with that bar line.â
Ecstatic, you try to spit some scheme of your own, slowly petering out the more and more you know youâre losing it, âReally? Got more in the chamber, yeah, I like danger.. Uhh.. Something, something, itâs a.. banger⊠Ah, damn, I dunno.â
Namjoon fully laughs at you now, his arms circling even tighter and fingers splayed wide across your backs âIâm in trouble,â he bemoans. âYou have to stop or youâd be right back in that bed.â
âNext time.â You reach to kiss him, knowing he can taste the peppermint on your tongue but not speaking about it. âIâm really gonna go shower now.âÂ
âK.â
âAnd hey.â You hold his forearm. âIf you really wanna do thisâjust usâwe can try. You just gotta let me know.â
He hesitates for a second. But itâs enough to clue you into it not being a confirmation. âI will.â
Yup. That wasnât a now answer. So you smile and head out to go to Yoongiâs bathroom, across the hall from his room. Guess he got the shorter end of the stick in the layout.
Itâs fine. You donât wanna approach his door again yet.
Thatâs gonna wait until later.Â
After you shower and get ready for bedâas well as you can in a bathroom thatâs not a womanâs and not yoursâyouâre so exhausted that can barely keep your eyes open.Â
But thereâs something you wanna do before sleeping, so you finally knock on the door youâve been avoiding.Â
No answer.Â
Well. Guess the universe has other plans.Â
But you suddenly hear clacking and a voice to hold on, and you straighten as Yoongi opens up.Â
Headphones around his neck, his gaze immediately goes to his clothes on your frame, and you steel your gaze before holding out your hand. âIâm only gonna ask once.âÂ
He stares.Â
âGimme your phone.â
Yoongi blinks before turning to reach behind him, grabbing his phone off the desk before handing it to you. As you type, he just watches, silent.Â
And you start to wonder what heâll say when you hand it back. âPut whatever you want for my name. If you ever text me, Iâm naming you the village idiot.â
He grins wider and wider, looking down and biting his lip in thought. When he moves closer, you stop him in the doorway,
âDonât.â
âWhatâs wrong.â
âIâŠâ Sighing, you set a rule, hating yourself for setting a boundary but deeming it necessary for your own good. Both of your own goods, really,
âThe next time I go in there will be when you take me home.âÂ
Yoongi looks at you without words, shifting his gaze between your eyes for any hidden meanings when there are none. âYou sure?â
You know what heâs asking. And you flat out ignore the spark you catch in that stare. âWe arenât exclusive,â you say, looking at Namjoonâs door. âWeâve never said we were, so yeah.â
Itâs silent for a moment, and you donât know whether to keep standing there or shove him back and go in yourself. The best choice would be to walk away, though, so you start to do soâ
âAbout that girl.â
You stiffen. âThis isnât off to a good start, Minââ
âShe bailed on me.âÂ
âŠWait, what? You heard her for a good amount of time. âWhen? Why?â
âUhm.â Yoongi looks away with a shift of his jaw and some teeth. âI was.. distracted.â
Fuck. Just like you were? âLike you two werenât loud, too.â
âNah, like⊠Said the wrong name distracted.â
âSaid the wrong⊠Whose name did youââ You blink. Hard. âOh.â
âYeah.â
âGoddamn it, Yoongi.â You roll your eyes to the ceiling, feeling for the poor girl. âThatâs the worst you could ever do.âÂ
So she had to have left in the middle, right? But you swore you heard him for awhile so maybe they kept going for a little before she came to her senses instead of around his diâ
âAnd for what itâs worth,â Yoongi continues with a point, âI donât bring many people here anyway. Sheâs the first one in a long time.âÂ
When he leans on the doorway, you let his eyes drag down your body, knowing he didnât get to have it tonight and feeling a little smug. âOf fucking course itâd be when you show up, too.âÂ
Your hum to a lifted shoulder makes his pupils dark. âCouldâve been you,â you tease. When Yoongi doesnât respond, you ignore it and fold your arms. âBut seriously? You donât?â
âNope.â His hand dips into his sagging pants pocket, looking towards his roommateâs room. âAnd no one from where we usually go. Namjoon and I donât want anyone knowing we live together, so itâs best to keep everyone in the dark.â
That makes sense. But thereâs a thought that stands out in your mind. âWait, but⊠You both knew I knew your names.â
When Yoongi looks back at you, your chest caves at his expression under those tendrils. âYeah. And I wanted to take you home several times, so what does that tell you.â
âŠSeveral? Yoongi, what the fuck?
Heart beating. Those unwavering eyes. These breaths between your bodies short and waiting.Â
Were you⊠always this into him? Have you really been ignoring how youâve felt because things with Yoongi were just⊠easy?Â
Is this why he didnât want to bring you home? Because you really canât fucking think straight and itâs aggravating.
So you swallow. âI should.. Go to bed.â
Yoongi nods and looks down the hall. âThereâs extra blankets on the couch. And he gave you one of his pillows.â
A switch was definitely flipped. You donât know which one you hit or how you managed to do it, but thank god because this was getting a little too real. âK. Thank you both.âÂ
âNo sweat.â Yoongi looks at you without shame, and you wonder if itâs to remember how you look in his tee.Â
Please donât be the reason.Â
âYouâre the first one to ever stay,â he murmurs, as a fact and a final good night. âHe doesnât let anyone do this, either.â
Oh. Holy shit.Â
âThen Iâll be sure to snore loud as fuck,â you bluff, melting at the way Yoongi shakes his head in a laugh. âNight, Yoongi.âÂ
He stares at you one more time.Â
And you keep staring right back.
One second becomes two, and two seconds become three.Â
Screw what you said earlier. All Yoongi has to do is let you in. All he has to do is utter one syllable of invitation and youâre taking residence in his bed.
But in the end, he doesnât. And youâre completely, totally, seriously fine with that.Â
âNight.â
âŠRight?
â
â
You stay up until you canât fight sleep anymore.Â
âÂ
â
When you wake, you notice the bright sunshine outside their living room windows. But itâs really, really bright. How long were you out?
Thereâs a note on the coffee table saying they both left, but thereâs a spare key and one of them can take care of your ride. Right next to said items is a covered plate of food, and you have a suspicion as to who made it.Â
Well. This is honestly the best outcome that couldâve happened. You donât have to worry about them knowing where youâre about to go.Â
So you take your time and really observe everything, noticing how sore you are and that youâll need time to recover. The walls and decor in their place are also minimal in the more public spaces, but thereâs a lot of earth tones and a surprising amount of plants. Not what youâd expect from two guys tearing up the battle rap scene in two sectors of the city.
Then again, you didnât expect them to know each other, either. Looks like theyâre both really good at putting on masks.
And taking them down when youâre alone with them.
âKept myself away for far too long.â
âIf youâre going steady with him, donât worry about what I wanna say.â
Your face finds the cup of your palms.
â
â
Bathroom. Freshen up. Walk around their kitchen and observe the little things. Finally sit down to eat.
When you dig in, you savor each bite, wondering what the hell you just got yourself into. Is this gonna be the last time youâre here? Or is this going to be a turning point in your life and there will be many, many stops at this station?
Guess youâre just gonna have to find out.
Yoongiâs food is damn near enough to convince you to come back, though. Goddamn, he can cook in there, too.
â
â
You purse your lips and shake your head when you time the walk from their building to yours.
Not even two minutes. Oh god, that is so fucking close.
But you join a whole new energy as you open your apartment door, delighted to see your roommate and his newfound obsession with tank tops.
âDamn, where were you?â
âI told you,â you laugh. âHere.â
âThatâs not what I meant.â
You realize what he means, and you saucily lift a shoulder. âTurns out, heâs really good.â
Namjoon?Â
Or Yoongi?
Hoseok lets out a soft laugh. âYou look a little⊠I dunno.â
You know what he means. Because even though you should be glowing enough to match his shine, things happened that threw you for a loop. And while you are very good with your quickwittedness and solution driven attitude, this is gonna need a bit more nuance.Â
âJust have things to think about,â you summarize. âHow was your date?â
âSo fun!â Hobi rushes over to the couch and brings over a fun looking accessory. âLook what they got me.â
Itâs perfect. A little acorn bag that would go great with multiple items in his closet. âWow.. Great taste.â
âI know, right?â
He excitedly puts it down before guiding you to your room, and you suddenly seem guilty for whatever the hell youâre doing with him.Â
Is Hobi an exclusive kinda guy? Why can you not remember?Â
But he takes your bag and sets it all down, and you stew in more complicated thoughts as he leads you to your bed. Are you even gonna go back to sleep at this point? Why does bed sound like the perfect place to be?Â
âThose his clothes, too?â
Oops.
Wincing, you slowly find a hard admittance in your throat, âUhh.. Nope.â
The downturn of his brows comes as no surprise.Â
âItâs hard to explain,â you say as you plop down on your made comforter. âBut trust me, I had a really good time. Iâm glad you did, too.â
Maybe you had too good of a time.
âScoot over,â your roommate suddenly says, climbing into your bed before you even get to move.
âHello?â
âScoot!â
Laughing, you move to the middle of your bed as he tugs up the covers, sliding into the cool den right next to you. âWhat are we doing?â
âNapping.â
âItâs late in the afternoon?â
âSweet dreams.â Hoseok snuggles into you, and you feel your shoulders loosen immediately. âMm mm mm.â
You groan, knowing he can hear the smile inside.Â
Is this man aware that heâs the only one that can order you around like this? Because if he is and is now taking full advantage, you may need to tighten your restrictions.Â
âYou smell expensive.â
Eyes downcast, you pretend to giggle. âI know, right.â
You donât have the heart to admit you just wanted to keep wearing Yoongiâs clothes, and breathing in Namjoonâs scent.Â
âÂ
âÂ
For the next two full weeks, work life gets busy for you, so you have to stay focused or else risk falling behind.Â
And of course the family is having lots of get togethers when itâs crunch time so your stress is through the roof, so you need need need to blow off some steam more than ever. As much as you enjoy the festivities and cookouts and reunions and random birthdays, youâre getting way too overstimulated too fast.Â
Because work is hell.
But showcases happen at night, so you canât make them because your schedule requires early mornings. Anything starting late is out of the question.Â
You donât hear from Namjoon or Yoongi. But you start to wonder if that means theyâre working or writing or even going to the same studio he mentioned. That would be sick if they were working on some record or mixtape togetherâor even individually? Hot hot hot either way. Your work ethic canât lose to theirs.
So you brush off the lack of communication and just assume good intent. You havenât reached out either because youâre so busy, so why should they?
Back to work you go.
â
â
Eventually, on a random Thursday, Joon finally texts you. And itâs so out of the blue that you pick up the phone and call instead.
Namjoon [14:02]: Did I mess up?
It doesnât take him long to answer the phone, so you dive right in, staring at unfinished work on your laptop, âWhat do you mean?â
âI havenât heard from you, so I thought⊠I dunno.â
This man. Was he really worried this whole time? You wonder how much of these two weeks you got wrong. âI havenât heard from you, either.âÂ
âDamn. Iâm not good at this.â
You laugh. âItâs my fault, too. I couldâve just asked.âÂ
âYou doing okay?â
That makes you stop, not hearing those words in a minute. Between everyone youâve seen, only one of your little cousins checked on you solely because you were staring into space in your uncleâs backyard. She probably thinks youâre crazy now, but whatever. âUhh, Iâve been better. You?â
âNah, hold on. Whatâs wrong?â
Your smile is weak. He really is the same guy you met awhile back. âWork is just kicking my ass.âÂ
âI feel that. Iâm sorry.â
âYou liar.â
âHuh?â
Grinning, you tuck your phone under your chin and keep typing away. âYou are good at this.â
âOh.â He laughs. âTalking to people?â
âTalking to me.â
âThat right? Can I get that in writing?â
Nails paused on plastic keys, you laugh. âNow youâre pushing it.âÂ
âSorry.â
âGood boy.â
A hitched breath. A bit of pause on the line.Â
Very, very interesting.Â
But you spare him this once and say youâre down to hang tomorrow. âWe can try a rooftop dinner this time?â
âI wish. But Iâm actually gonna be busy.â
âOh? Studio?â
âNah, like. Flying out to another city busy.â
âNo shit! Okay, Iâll put you down as a no for the rooftop dinner.â
Joon laughs, and it really hits your ear just right. âYeah, put me down as a no this time.âÂ
âBoth of yâall are leaving?â
âNah, just me.â
Your pout is super evident in your tone. âWhat am I gonna do without you?â
âI dunno. Probably cheer Yoongi up.â Your heart stops as Joon laughs, and you can hear a faint set of yells on the line. âHeâs been moping all fucking week.â
âWas that him?â You ask with a laugh, already wondering what the hell is happening wherever they are. âWhat a baby!â
âTell him yourself!â
So you do, yelling into the phone and knowing itâs gonna come out so crunchy, âYoongi, get up!âÂ
Thereâs more laughing and a muddle of words, but you canât make them out too much. But just that helped you burn some steam.Â
Yoongi? Moping? He gets moody just like you do, but youâve never seen him moping. What happened?Â
Well. Youâd ask if heâd fucking text you. But since that hasnât happened yet, guess youâre left to speculation.Â
âBut yeah. I miss you, but work is important. Wanna go out sometime next week?â
âYou know I do.â
âPerfect. Iâm putting it in my phone so I donât miss it for any stupid reason.â
âNext Friday is best.â
âK. Got it.â
âÂ
â
The next afternoon, the door to your apartment flings open, and you snap your head to the muffled sound before clutching your phone tight.Â
What the fuck?Â
You almost think to call for help when you hear footsteps thump to the far side of the unit, and a further door banging shut.
Fuck, that was Hobi. What the hell is up?Â
Abandoning your laptop, you rush out of your room and cross the shared living space, lifting your hand to knock on his door but hesitating.Â
What are you pausing for? Itâs Hoseok, and heâs clearly not happy. Heâd be at your door before you could even fling your purse off if you stormed in just like he did.Â
For a moment, though, you hesitate. Because you were supposed to have the place to yourself and that meant bare face, low maintenance head, and nightgown on at 3pm.Â
But he sounded mad and all you heard were his footsteps and door closing. This isnât the time to be caught up in appearances.Â
So you softly bang on wood before calling his name. âLet me in,â you command. âNow.â
âNo.â
Umm, what the fuck? âNo?â
âJust gimme a second.â
Lips smushed, you eye the door with such annoyance you try the knob to burst in yourselfâ
It opens immediately, and you barge in to a sight that makes your tongue loll and your saliva multiply.
Hoseok. Shaking his very wet hair. With nothing on but some very, very wet jeans.Â
He gives you a slight look of annoyance while you reach for words, mouth in a line when he asks, âSeriously?âÂ
Umm. You were checking in on why this man came in hot. And now youâre feeling your own temperature spike through the goddamn roof. Truthfully, the only thing you can think of saying is something born from confusion, âYou donât lock your door?â
A tsk flings out before he sets foot in his bathroom, hanging the towel on a rack before replying, âI never do when itâs just us.âÂ
âReally?â That makes you feel a little sheepish. Chalk it up to being a severely private personâand a womanâbut you always lock your door. âI never knew that.â
âDid you come into my room just to tell me that?â
Oh, you donât have time for that. All the pent up emotions and stress youâve felt this week comes pouring down. Couple that with the fact you canât even fool around with him since heâs still going steady with whoever? You are really deep in the trenches.
âObviously not, Hoseok,â you sling out his name, catching his attention immediately, âI was just wondering what the fuck was up. I canât just check on my friend?â
âI told you just give me a second?â
âOkay seriously, whatâs with the attitude?â
âAttitude? Whatâs with the grilling?â
Your mouth snaps shut. âIâm not grilling youââ
âYou are.â He flings more wetness from his bangs, and the motion alone makes your core ache. Fuck, heâs not helping your lack of release at all and now heâs raking through his fucking locks your moan is forming so quick you canât stopâ
âŠWhyâs he looking at you like that?Â
Shit. Did you⊠did you do that out loud?Â
âWhat was that?â
Ignore him. You have to ignore him because if you stay you are begging for trouble. And you donât want trouble for you, nor for him.Â
âYou know what? Never mind,â you rush out, turning to head out and lock yourself in your room once again. âForget it. Stay mad or whatever, I donât careââ
The door closes in front of your nose before youâre spun back, shoved against wood as Hoseok cages you in.Â
âLet me go,â you move to shove him off, hands slipping as you palm his slick chest fuck. âYou donât want me in here anywayââ
âDid I fucking say that?â
âNo, but I know when Iâm not wantedââ
Your roommate presses his pelvis into yours, and your eyes fly wide at the straining bulge in his pants. Fuck, does that hurt him? His pants are soaked.Â
âIâm only gonna say this once.â Hoseok grabs your chin to force your eyes to his. âBut I always fucking want you so shut the fuck up.â
Whatâ
His lips smash into yours before you groan, your bones smacking against his door and your concerns muffled.Â
âI thoughtâ I thought you were seeing someoneââ
âNot anymore,â he whooshes out, diving into your neck. âNot after today.â
âIâmâfuckâIâm so sorry,â you moan out, losing yourself in those kisses.
âDonât be.âÂ
âYouâre mad.â
âJust fucking pissed he took my umbrella.â He shoves his mouth into your column. âNow all my shit is soaked.â
âLucky me,â you gasp out, grabbing his wet hair and raking down. âI love it.â
You hear him groan deep and raspy, and it scratches your brain just right. âSorry I came in hot,â you quickly repent. âIâm just so fucking stressed.â
âI can tell.â
âSo fix it.â
âWhat do you want.â
âYou.â
And youâre yanked from the wall before being tossed onto a fully made bed.Â
Your long gown is hiked up before you even strip your underwear down, but Hoseok slaps your hand away.Â
Which can only mean one thing. And youâre rejoicing.Â
He slips his pants and underwear off before throwing them into the bathroom, and you yelp at his freezing cold legs before he grins. âSorry.â
âYou are not.â
âIâm not.â
âSo fucking cold,â you growl, trying to move away from his skin but end up arching into his chest in the process.Â
Which completely destroys any hope you have of avoiding him, because your nipples have now pebbled against your dress, and you know for a fact Hoseok can feel them right through the silken material.Â
Your quick suspicion is confirmed with a growl, and the sound that leaves your mouth at the feel of teeth around one slings through all four walls. âFuck!âÂ
Shivers. Full body shivers erupt when your roommate buries his face in your chest, the rumbling in his throat searing you through as he inhales before kissing between your breasts.Â
âŠWhat was that for?Â
That wasnât something you just do during a quick and dirty session. Which is exactly what you expect this to be. Hoseok came in hot after a tragic yet somewhat comical rainy day breakup, and youâre pissed he told you to wait at his door.Â
Heâs always there and always telling you yes. Hobi never says no to you.Â
And you damn well know you would never say no to him, either.Â
âSmell so fucking good,â he moans, eyes closed and eyebrows knitted as he sweeps a hot tongue across your chest. âAnd youâre so warm.âÂ
âI donât feel like it.â Your pout makes him laugh, and you blink at how anger is slowly draining out of the atmosphere, and at how youâre just happy to hear his change in demeanor.Â
But he still gave you attitude earlierâyou will not back down on thatâso you need to preserve the last of your pissy mood to give him a good post-breakup vent session. âI know you didnât throw me on your bed just to use me as a heater and smell me.âÂ
Fuck. The laughter you hear now is fuller, and his arms immediately tighten around your frame as he collapses onto you. âI didnât!âÂ
âThen what did you have inââ
Hobi smushes his lips onto yours, rolling his body against your front and making you gasp like youâve been blindsided. Which, technically you have, because this is not the way you thought things were gonna go a mere five minutes ago.
âGonna fix you,â he rasps against your lips. âRemember?â
âWouldnât mind fixing you first,â you counter, raking long nails down his bare hip and enjoying his hitched reaction. âI can suck you off?â
âFuck,â Hoseok shudders out before pinching his brows. âYou canât do that.âÂ
Huh? âI do that very well actually? Rude.â
âNo, no,â he clarifies, subtly moving one of your thighs to the side. âI just meant not now. If you do, Iâm not gonna last for shit.â
âOh.âÂ
You only get a second before you feel a freezing finger on your underwear, flinching up and watching Hoseokâs eyes slip into the depths of lust and concentration. When he slides the material to the side, your breath stops. âBut this right here, I can do all day.âÂ
Breathing out his name, you have to close your eyes with how good it feels to have him touch you with such softness and precision. Itâs like heâs done this a thousand times when itâs only been more like five, and you rock against his fingers just like all the other times before. âFeels so fucking good.â
âSo do you,â he praises with gravel, reaching up your body to slowly bring your dress down to reveal your breasts like a slow gift unwrapping. âReally, I could touch you all night.â
âFinish my work for me,â you whoosh out, âAnd you can.â
Chuckling, Hoseok goes from rubbing to inserting his fingers, and you twitch hard while projecting a moan into his ceiling. âThatâs it, baby,â he coaxes. âYell for me.â
Fuck. How the hell are you already so close? âHobi, Iâmââ
âI feel it. Come on, baby.â
How is this happening? Heâs going faster and faster and youâre already wet enough to let him and itâs building so fast in your core that itâs shocking. A whine propels from your throat as you keep exhaling hard, and when the pleasure becomes too much to bear you release in the most sinful wayâ
Oh, shit shit shit, you reallyâ
âFuck.â
Liquid spews from your cunt and onto his chest, drenching your roommate even more than the rain outside and dripping down his abdomen. Both of you groan at the sight, and you canât believe you just squirted right onto him with minimal effort on his part how theâ
âWhat the fuck, come here.â
Youâre dragged forward and hitched up on his legs, and Hoseok leans over to yank his nightstand drawer out for protection, his necklace brushing cold against your chest.Â
Drunk on lust and indescribable pleasure and a wave of strange intimacy, you reach up to suck one of his nipples, laughing into his skin when he visibly twitches and collapses.Â
The sound he makes causes your cunt to squeeze, and you hold him with your claws while swirling your tongue all around his chest. When you move to the other side, you give it just as much effort, squirming under his pelvis and rocking against him when you feel his cock.Â
âBaby,â he gasps. âLemme put this on.â
âNo,â you simply reject, reaching down to stroke him and giggling at his loud moan. âNot yet.âÂ
âYou first,â he strains out, veins in his neck protruding so hard they could pop. âThen me.â
âYou really about to come?â
âYes.â
âThen donât,â you offer, the most simple yet complicated and difficult task. âOr else Iâll have to clean it up.â
âShut up, please.âÂ
You kick your head back in a laugh, loving how heâs so puddy in your hands. âFine, fine. Ready?â
âHold on.. Just..â Shaking, he slips the condom on before leaning down, flipping you up so youâre on top wait what? âReady.â
Leering down, you cannot believe he just did that. âYou lazy piece ofâŠâ
Hoseok rests his head on his palms, smirk so cutting and dazzling. âBounce for me if youâre so mad.â
Oh, you plan on it. âGonna snap you in two, bitch.âÂ
Damn that stupid laugh. âPlease do.â
Mm. You get up and sink down, groaning when he does and start to slowly rise and fall, letting your legs warm up and feeling the burn in your thighs. But the feeling of having him inside overrides any pain, so you gladly sink onto him again and again.Â
The little curses and raspy praise are enough to keep you going, too. âSo fucking hot.â
âAm I?â You pout, mewling when Hoseok reaches to smooth a thumb over a nipple. âI didnât even do much today.â
Itâs true. Pretty much no makeup other than some spray and sunscreen. You planned to stay home forever today, and your roommate was supposed to be gone.
âDoesnât matter.â He touches you again before sliding slim fingers up to your chin, gripping and holding it high. âStill a killer.â
You suppress a smile before dipping your head against him just a tad. âThank you,â you strain out, because somehow a genuine word of gratitude is hard.Â
And because you start to swirl around, huffing and feeling the heat in your legs build higher and higher. When Hoseok groans low, he grips your hips, starting to match your pace but lifting up instead. The slow, sensual movements loll you forward because holy fuck you feel full, and your moans start to pitch up the more your core starts to wind.Â
âThere you go,â he goads, kicking his head back and gritting those beautiful teeth. âI feel it, baby.â
âFeel you, too,â you gasp out. âBut IâMy legsââ
Hoseokâs response is immediate. Without prompt, he flips you around, slamming you into the bed and thrusting up to stay there and torture you. âAbout fuckinâ time.â
âHuh?â
âWas waiting for my turn.â His mouth curves devilishly when you start to squirm, breathing hard because holy shit this feels way too good when he just stays still like that how is this alone affecting you so bad?
âHobi, Iâm actuallyââ
âNope.â
Rocked and rocked again, you yelp high, realizing too late that your roommate is giving you all the business shit shit shit his pace is manic and his thrusts are so deep. âFuck!â
âUh huh.â
He does not stop. Every second is counting and youâre losing track of time. This man is hitting every spot just right, gripping onto your hips and going to fucking town. Your body has gone completely limp at some point, and you donât remember when youâve surrendered your head to his pillowâor are you even right side up anymore?Â
You crumple against his headboard and your legs flop over his shoulders but you donât care. You are blissed out. Completely gone. Nothing exists except for him and whatever the hell heâs putting you throughâthe mattress, the floor, the poor neighborâs wall right next to you, all the above.Â
âSo fucking tight, fuck.â
Fuck, you feel it. You know youâre about to lose it and thereâs almost no time to warn him. âHobi, Iâmââ
âShit, Iâm gonnaââÂ
He collapses onto you, and you welcome him with arms slinging around his neck as he comes hard, groaning low and stuttering in his movements while you come just as hard, both of you straining and sweaty and slick from completely going at each other.Â
That release is exactly what you needed. Even through the breaths you inhale and exhale, beautifully crushed under your roommate's body weight, you're already settling into a state of zen. The stress starts to ebb, leaving you floating through a calmer, more relaxed state.
With even more things to think about.
âYou still mad?â
Breathily chuckling at Hobi's straightforwardness, you gasp out, âNot anymore. You?â
Realizing what's happening, he lifts up, teeth gritting as he plops onto his mattress next to you. âNo.â
âGood.â
He stares at your eyes before sliding down to your lips, then back up again for another hold. And it's the most confusing mix of things in your chest because you know for a fact he hasn't done that. Ever. Not with you, at least. Not like this.
You're the safety net, though. You both are for each other. So that's how you decide to define this scenario when you slip into a smile you hope's convincing, "Hell of a rebound this time, huh."
Hoseok blinks before he grins. And it shoots you straight through the heart. "Yeah... We're fuckin' good at this."
Your laugh is short but your matching grin is genuine. "The best to ever do it."
"Damn right."
â
â
True freedom comes a few days later. Â
On Monday, youâre finally done with work, which completely flips the feel of a normally dreaded day around.Â
And what makes this particular Monday even better?Â
Thereâs a showcase tonight.
And you are completely free to go.Â
â
â
Youâll always love the energy in these warehouses. Honestly, youâve been away for so long that you feel quite attached as soon as you walk in with random people onto the wide, bustling floor.Â
From the conversations you hear springing around you, to the music booming from the DJ booth, to the shouting and cheering of different rappers trying to make their mark on the scene, you truly bask in it all. Itâs a wonder you mostly come to these alone, considering how often you show up.Â
Tonight, however, someone seems to keep talking to you and standing beside you for a good portion of the first two battles. And you really donât need nor want their attention.Â
So you start making your way to the side of the crowd nearest to where the contestants enter the stage. By some stroke of luck, if Yoongi is here, you can hopefully use him as a get-out-of-stranger-interaction card because all these weeks of work has your social battery completely drained.Â
Like you canât even muster the energy to tell them you really arenât interested. And you donât really see anyone else you know so it would be awkward to just dip.Â
Thank god.Â
Yoongi is here.
When you peek from the crowd, youâre a few rows away, so you have to get his attention somehow. Do you shout his name? Do you wave? Do you just stare lasers at him and hope heâ
Oh. Heâs looking at you.Â
How did he pick you out of the crowd so quick?
Suddenly, everyone else in the room melts away as your eyes find each other. Colors blur as you watch him pause on the stage stairs, sounds mute as he looks genuinely shocked to see you here.Â
Youâre so thrown that you canât even gesture to him that youâre being held hostage by a nice but annoying stranger. All you can focus on is how visceral your reaction is.
Because your breath is stolen and your whole body locks into place.Â
That last kiss you shared is all you can think about. That one, singular moment before Yoongi let you walk out of his room.Â
It was not normal.Â
It was not normal in the slightest.Â
But thatâs just how you feel. For him? It couldâve just been another kiss and he could compare it to the thousands of lip locks heâs had. Why should you hold so much stock in it if he hasn't this whole time? Play it cool. Relax.
The moment passes, and heâs getting on stage to thunderous shouting and cheers. Like always, he doesnât look at the crowd nor show much emotion, but you know thereâs a storm brewing under that jacket just waiting to be unleashed.
Youâre proven correct for two straight rounds.Â
It was a good match, though you have a feeling Yoongi held back a bit or wasnât at a hundred percent. His delivery was rough in the right ways and just incredible on the ears, but you could tell something was missing. His fire wasn't as bright as before.
But everyone has their days. And he fucking won despite his dip in performance, which goes to show just how hard he works for this shit.
So you start leaving, eyes closed in quiet rage that this same person is still walking next to you. Do they think they have a legitimate chance? Awareness level zero.
You let them down easy and sigh in relief when they take the hint. But now you're left alone again with a long ass walk to your car. Great. Here you go.
Three steps towards the exit, you feel a vibration in your purse. Fishing out your phone, you see it's a number you haven't saved.
And your heart thrums into your shoes when you pick up, because you don't even have to answer when you hear one word.
âWait.â
-
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tbc :)
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so.. what do we think lmaooo đŠ | join the taglist :D | feedback box
a/n: and all roads lead to jung hoseok yet again lmfaooooo. but hey, if there's ever a time to be greedy.. it's here LOL. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated. no one is ready for pt. 4 not even meeee :)))
a/n 2: all the names iâm gonna include that arenât the members (or yijeong lol) are real life battle rappers! since there's no battle rappers showcased in this episode/chapter, let's just link to 2.0 by bts shall we lololol
++ feedback box: feedback box
â„ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated!
â„ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think!
â„ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. itâs literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as youâd like!
++ more links: â„ masterlistÂ
đŠ so.. who are you going on a date with if you had to choose?? đŠ
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pt. 3 in his car - read pt. 2 here - series masterlist here
pairing: executive chef!yoongi x f!cook!reader
genre: pwp, age gap
rating: explicit content, MDNI!!!!!!!
summary: you've gotten into... somewhat of a routine with chef min, and he's been a good distraction from your ex who won't leave you alone. which leads you both to getting to know each other.
warnings/tags: mc's ex is a piece of shit bc he's trying to take her dog, discussions of harassment and a restraining order, marijuana use, hotboxing, shotgunning, car sex in a parking lot, unprotected sex while high, mc takes birth control, she gets nakey in the backseat of his car, chef min doesnât đ, pussy slapping, spitting, oral (m. receiving), accidental facial, cum eating, he's still mean to her but not as mean as he was in the last chapter lolol, mc addresses the panty thievery, he pretends he has no idea what she's talking about (perv), we learn some lore about the two of them
wc: 11.2k
notes: i'm sorry this took a while to get out but i hope it's worth the wait!! i need to give a humongous shoutout to @syllviere for helping me figure stuff out when i got stuck like i was about to put this on a hold bc i couldn't get things flowing but k helped me out so much!! thank youuuuu!!! and an endless thank you to aqua @glossdebut, pj @imamasterbbywithurbra, and cherish @97luvz for beta reading!! one of these days im gonna finish the chapter before asking yall to beta lol. i love and appreciate yall so much!!
divider: @/pixopix
You: Jimin for the thousandth time!! I did not fuck my ex!!!!
Hubby: I really hope not
Over the past few weeks, youâve been trying to convince Jimin that you were not off screwing your ex after the staff party. Heâs been bringing it up in random, casual ways, seeing if he can catch you off guard and in a lie, to which you adamantly insist that you were really at home sick. He still doesnât fully accept that, but you canât be too annoyed because youâre the reason why heâs having a hard time believing you (and not just because of the fact that you're still lying).
Less than a year ago, you and your ex had a less than amicable break up. Too many fights about how much and how late you worked, and how hard it was for his eyes not to wander because you werenât at home enough. And he always laughed any time you brought up your idea to open up your own restaurant with Jimin. Unfortunately his dick game, paired with the fact that youâd been together for five years, had you pathetically crawling back to get railed. But then he started taking that as you wanting to get back together, which had you reflecting seriously on your life decisions and realizing that amazing sex with him wasnât worth the fights and hurt feelings.
But you give an inch, and he takes a mile.
Now heâs been calling you from a different number, hounding you about working out some sort of âco-parentingâ agreement for Mang. You know he doesnât actually want to take part in her care, he just wants an excuse to stay in touch with you.
You havenât told Jimin. You love your best friend and how he doesnât play about you, but he almost went to jail the last time he stood up to your ex, and youâre not about to be the one to call Ty and tell him to bail out his hot-headed boyfriend because of your stupid drama.
Sneaking into Chef Minâs office on the nights that he works has been a wonderful distraction.
When you clock out, you pretend to head home, going so far as to get in your car, drive out of the parking lot, and once you see Jimin turn down the road towards his exit, circle back to the restaurant. You let yourself in through the back, wander past Chef Minâs office, and give some lame excuse like oh, you forgot your badge or left your sweater. He calls bull, beckons you in, and after you hand him a condom from your purse, takes you right up against the door, or bends you over his desk again.
He fucks you from behind, so you rarely look each other in the eye, never kissing or making a single sound, other than breathless utterances of âtightâ and âbigâ and âharderâ and âcloseâ. But when he does make you face him, itâs to watch you struggle to stay silent as you come around his cock pistoning into you fast and hard and so, so good. His hand holds the base of your throat and you wish he would go a little higher and squeeze.
Occasionally, he spreads your legs on his desk and goes down on you, taking his time like he has nowhere else to be. But he never lets you get on your knees for him. Which, you canât lie, leaves you extremely disappointed.
You always walk out barely able to see straight, on jelly legs with a dumbass grin on your face, but accompanied by a tiny ache in your chest because he always dismisses you soon after he discards the condom. He leaves little room for small talk - no âhowâve you beenâ or âdo you have any plans for your day offâ and - thatâs probably smart. For the better. Itâs one thing fucking your boss on the regular, but attempting to have a more⊠emotional connection? Feels somehow more unprofessional. Because just getting fucked is cut and dry. Bringing feelings into the mix will make things complicated.
But then he disappears for weeks on end on business trips, leaving you lonely and insatiable because you have to fuck yourself with a dildo that doesnât compare to his size, doesnât stretch you like he does, fill you up, fuck you hard enough that when you come, you blackout for a few minutes. And goddamn, if that doesnât make you miss him. His dick. You miss his dick. You miss him fucking you. Right.
Because you definitely donât miss the way he commands the kitchen as soon as he walks in, carrying himself with practiced expertise, not arrogance. How he has no problem getting his hands dirty, his chefâs coat stained on a nightly basis - jumping on the line if a cook is out, filling in for the dishwashers when they go on break, carrying in boxes of late-night deliveries and stocking up the shelves.
He doesnât really talk and definitely never jokes around with everyone like Sous Chefs Kim and Jung do, but he supports wherever itâs needed, and always backs up the waitstaff. He may be strict and harsh at times (especially when he catches someone slacking), wonât let anything be out of place or done wrong without him noticing, but he keeps things running smoothly, efficiently, and more than that, heâs passionate in everything he does, every way he moves, and itâs something you deeply admire. And his passion is hot. Which is why you risked your job to put it to the test.
And look where it got you. Definitely not missing your boss on the daily. Missing him fucking you. To reiterate.
To help take your mind off him and prove to Jimin that youâre completely over your ex, you go out to the club with him and Ty. But youâre sure itâs not a coincidence when his vanilla friend is there, a little over excited to meet you, and Jimin and Ty disappear not soon after.Â
Despite the fact that you wanted to just get absolutely trashed with your best friend, you have been saying you would meet up with this guy so you give him a chance. He talks about himself a bit too much, interrupts you a few too many times, but otherwise heâs nice - smiles and nods while you tell him about work, holds open doors for you, pays for your drinks and food. Itâs enough to agree to go back to his place.Â
But as you predicted, he leaves you more sexually frustrated than you were before you fell into his bed. He doesnât pay attention to what you like, doesnât even bother to ask, and when you ask him to fuck you harder, he just picks up the pace, telling you heâs chasing only his high. You fake an orgasm so heâll get off you, and then angrily stare up at the ceiling while he falls asleep. At the break of dawn, you sneak out and send him a text that heâs a great guy but youâre sorry things arenât going to work out. Then you block him and message Jimin that he can take a break from matchmaking.
You still havenât told him about your ex, not even when you had to take a few days off to drive Mang up to your momâs because heâs started to call you from different numbers and offer threaten to come over and take your dog off your hands. Over your dead body.
You pick up extra day shifts at work to make up for your missed time and so youâre not spending as much time alone at home now that Mang is on a temporary vacation. A particularly grueling night of customers testing your love and passion for cooking by requesting nitpicky substitutions, sending the servers back to ask stupid fucking questions like everything isnât right there on the menu, and making dumbass complaints nearly sends you over the edge.
One customer almost makes you crash out, and if you go home questioning yourself, you might not sleep. Itâs probably not a smart idea to stay after since you have to catch the bus and it only runs so late, because itâs not in your budget this week to call a cab. But you have no means or ingredients to experiment at home. So at the end of the night, you catch Sous Chef Jung before you get started on cleanup.
âChef, can I stay late? I want to practice a recipe.â
âSure,â he smiles warmly, a contrasting disposition to the other sous chefs and managers. And a particular boss. âJust remember to record the ingredients you use.â
âI will.â
âOh, and the boss will be in later, so donât worry about locking up.â
That erases all the exhaustion in your bones, pumping you so full of adrenaline that youâre able to get through your tasks in record time. Okay, but thatâs not the reason youâre staying. You need to focus.
Youâre on your second experimentation when the back door squeaks open, and Chef Minâs low voice carries over the threshold as he steps in, phone pressed to his ear. You carry on as if heâs not 15 feet away, as if your heart isnât threatening to explode because heâs finally fucking here after the longest month of your life.
Heâs traded his chefâs coat for a long-sleeved, plaid shirt, and his uniform pants for loose, black joggers. How he manages to look sexy in plaid.
You keep your breathing level as he approaches your station, stopping just at the corner.
âWhat did you do?â You almost lose grip on the spoon as he addresses you.
âNothing, chef.â
âThen why are you here so late?â
âIâm practicing a recipe.â
âWhy?â
âThis dou- uh, I mean, guest sent his galbi back three times because apparently the marinade wasnât âseasoned properly,ââ you say in a slightly mocking tone. âAnd then he wanted it comped. So, Iâm trying to figure out what the fuck he was talking about. I make it this way all the time, and Iâve never had any complaints.â
âSometimes there are guests who just get off on bitching.â You pause for a second.Â
âI thought that theyâre always right.â
âWe only have to say that to their face. But theyâre not.â
That makes you feel validated in so many ways. For the majority of your culinary career, youâve been taught that the needs and expectations of customers are the top priority, and all cooks and servers have to bend to their will. So to be at a high-end restaurant like Montana 28 where the executive chef says thatâs not the case?
âMake the whole dish and bring it to me when youâre done.â
Oh. Wait. Is he serious? Heâs really gonna try it? When itâs this late?
âCan I make two?â you blurt, probably not a good idea. âI know itâll come out of my check.â
He nods, then turns his attention to his phone, texting as he exits the kitchen and heads towards his office.
You put his dish together as if you were sending it out, maybe arranging the meat, pouring the sauce and adding the garnishes in a more perfected fashion since thereâs not the usual rush. You just toss yours in the bowl, not caring that itâs a jumbled mess. On a serving platter, you place the bowls, two pairs of chopsticks, and a small stack of paper napkins, and it occurs to you that you have no idea what heâd like to have to drink, outside of alcohol. Not that you have the hands to carry more shit anyway (you were never a good server). But you find yourself wanting to know.
His office door is ajar, so you call out for his permission to enter, butterflies whirring in your stomach as he mumbles âCome in,â and use your shoulder to push open the door, heart skipping at this all too familiar setting - him doing paperwork at his desk, glancing up at you and gesturing for you to shut the door. Except this time, youâre not going to be bent over his desk and fucked dumb. Youâre gonna use it to share a meal. Why that makes you nervous⊠Who knows.
As you step forward with the tray, he clears away the papers to give you room to set down his bowl, and you quietly take a seat across from him, refraining from retrieving your chopsticks when he leans forward to take a glimpse of your bowl.
âHow come yours looks different?â
You internally recoil, feeling as if youâre failing a test for not equally presenting both dishes to your executive chef. Even if the look wonât change the taste. But you know it makes a difference to him.
âI didnât want to take up too much time,â you reason honestly, and he looks at you for a second before picking up a piece of the short ribs.
You watch as he inspects the meat for the sear and color, and youâre incredibly nervous for some reason because this isnât the first time heâs tasted your food. He wasnât here for the latest menu change (something the sous chefs joined forces to create) and the last time he critiqued your food, he didnât have anything nice to say. So, you brace yourself as he takes a bite, focusing on his micro expressions you've dutifully studied for any signs of displeasure. But there are none.
âYeah, that guy was just being an ass.â
âReally? Thereâs nothing wrong with it?â
He shakes his head. âItâs exactly what itâs supposed to be.â
You feel lighter, more relaxed than youâve been in weeks now that you have his assurance. Validation. And sitting here, across from him, sharing a meal, a conversation feels⊠normal. Which is odd for the two of you. Just because itâs unfamiliar territory - spending time together not in each otherâs pants. Itâs nice. You want more of it.
Resting the chopsticks on the rim of the bowl, he sits back and wipes the corner of his mouth with a folded napkin, then crosses his arms. âWhy do you doubt yourself?â
You freeze, grip on your chopsticks tightening. âI donât.â
âYouâre wasting your own money and time remaking a dish you know is good just because one person complained.â
âI wanted to make sure I didnât mess up.â
âYou have to accept that not everyoneâs gonna like what you make. Doesnât mean thereâs something wrong with what youâre doing.â
âWhat if you donât like what I make?â
His opinion is really the only one you should value. He leans forward, elbows on the desk, and sticks the chopsticks back in his bowl. His eyes flicker to yours, a small smirk on his lips.Â
âThatâs where constructive criticism comes in.â
You smile, pretending your heart isnât going into overdrive because heâs looking at you with something other than passive boredom.
The rest of the meal is shared in silence. Comfortable silence. At one point, his phone buzzes, and as he picks it up, you take a quick bite, getting ready to leave so you can give him privacy, but he just declines the call and leaves it face down on his desk. Your chest warms. You always appreciate a person who values no phone time while eating with someone.
âWell, hurry and clean up,â he says once youâre done. âIâm locking up in 30.â He sets the bowls back on the tray and picks up his phone, firing off texts as you stand.
âYes, chef,â you say, smiling, and he looks up and rolls his eyes when you give a mock salute.
You finish cleaning in 20, giving you enough time to change out of your uniform into leggings and a hoodie, and maybe you quickly spritz on some perfume you keep in your bag for situations like this. Just in case. Heâs standing by the back door when you emerge, glued to his phone, but glances up as you approach him.
âReady?â You nod and he pops open the door, gesturing for you to go first. Cool air smelling of impending rain fills up your lungs as you step out, the light, chilly wind making you pull up your hood. You look around and the only car in the small, dimly lit parking lot is a sleek, dark green Palisade. Chef Min drives an expensive SUV. You go a little weak in the knees.
âIs your car out front?â he asks, and you turn to him locking the door and tugging at the handle a few times before pocketing his keys.
âIn the shop. Iâm taking the bus.â
âThe bus,â he repeats flatly. You shrug.
âI canât exactly walk home. And cabs are expensive this time of night.â
He huffs, takes out his phone, and you start to panic when you think heâs going out of his way and calling you a ride. Before you can protest, he holds it out to you, opened to the maps app.
âPut in your address.â What?
âChef, you donât-â You stop when he turns his back on you and rounds his car for the driverâs side, robbing you of the opportunity to argue. Your hands holding his phone quiver because is he really about to give you a ride home? His door shuts as you stare at the screen, the map prompting you to enter an address, and for a few seconds, you forget where you live.
âAre you coming?â he calls from inside, the passengerâs side window rolled down. Your feet hesitate to move as you continue to stare at his phone, unable to help your shock that he indirectly offered you a ride. Chef Min offered you a ride. He barely tolerates you calling him by his first name while heâs fucking you but heâs letting you get in his car?
âI donât have all night,â he says, boredom back in his tone, and it interrupts your stupid spiral, compelling you to finally reach for the unlocked handle. You slide onto the soft, beige leather, nervously glancing over as he starts up the engine, so quiet you almost donât hear it rumble to life.
âUm, thanks. You really donât-â
âDid you type it in?â he asks, focusing on the navigation screen, missing your nod. He clicks to the GPS and the bluetooth has worked surprisingly fast because your address is already there.
You wordlessly pass back his phone and he drops it in a lit up cup holder. The interior smells of fresh citrus, and is immaculate - you canât spot a single speck of dirt or piece of trash and wonder if he just bought this car. Like today.
After you buckle up, he puts the car in reverse and your breath seizes when he puts his hand with a silver Rolex around his wrist on the side of your head rest, looking over his shoulder to back out of the parking spot. He has the rearview camera right in front of him but, okay. If heâs trying to give you a heart attack, itâs fucking working.
You take out your phone before you go into cardiac arrest, only to find it dead. Damn, you wanted to check in with your mom about Mang, see the daily picture and update.
âDo you have a charger?â
âGlove compartment.â
You reach forward and crack it open but all you see is a manual, stack of folded papers, and pack of wipes.
âNope, not in here.â
âWait, donât-â he says as you go for the console, and his hand tries to stop you from snapping it open but itâs too late. You spot a carton of cigarettes, and next to it, a little bag of green bud.
âOooh, I didnât know Chef Min was a stoner!â
He sighs and rakes a hand through his hair, stressed. You grin. Now whoâs busted?
âI wonât tell,â you assure. Not that he should be worried - youâre not a snitch. And telling people that your boss is a pothead would mean admitting how you know that in the first place.
âBetter not,â he mutters, shaking his head. You canât tell if heâs truly annoyed.
âBut can we smoke?â
âYou blackmailing me?â
âNo,â you answer immediately, hoping he doesnât really think that of you. But then you catch his cocked brow and slight uptick on his lips and - oh, maybe he's just joking around with you.
The light turns green and he drives into the intersection, finger tapping on the steering wheel a few times before clicking on his left turn signal to make a u-turn, against the GPS directions.
âWhere are we going?â
âParking lot.â
Oh. So youâre really doing this. Itâs been a minute since youâve gotten high. You recreationally smoked in college, but sometimes it really helped get the creative juices flowing when you got stuck on projects for your culinary classes. The last time was with Jimin, even though Ty advised him against it because he always gets super paranoid. And sure enough, Jimin wound up on the floor, curled up in Tyâs lap, covering his ears and staring at nothing as you munched on snacks and giggled that he looked like a cute little chick. You hope you wonât be too giggly and talkative while you smoke up with your boss. Youâre gonna be cool.
It starts to rain as he drives to a more secluded area downtown, and eventually pulls into an empty, barely lit parking lot next to several basketball courts.Â
âIs this your spot?â
âUsed to be.â He parks facing away from the courts that look old, run down. Weeds growing up the fence, grass not tended to, trees in the woods nearby encroaching on the field to take back their home. You wonder if he ever played basketball, or if he just hung around to smoke.
âLetâs sit in the back,â he says, switching off the engine. âThe windows arenât tinted up here.â
The rain is coming down hard as he steps out, and once he shuts the door, you consider taking the impulsive and idiotic liberty of crawling over the console and into the back because youâre not about to get wet, especially when you just got these white shoes. But you already know he would not appreciate that so you rush out, and youâre met with the back door on your side already open. Nearly launching into the seat across from him, you shut yourself in, and take in the sight of him laying down the rolling papers, baggie, and lighter on the console that separates your seats.
You ogle his nimble fingers as they sprinkle the ground up leaves into the crisp paper, packing it full and rolling it tight. Your thighs squeeze together when he brings it up to his mouth to run the edge along his tongue, sealing it shut. Clearly heâs very experienced and that makes this whole ordeal increasingly attractive.
After rolling a second joint and clearing the console to get it out of the way, he sticks the second joint in his pants pocket and pulls a lighter out. Settling a roll between his lips, he flicks the spark wheel of the lighter and a small flame appears that he cups before he ignites the end of the joint, dropping the lighter once itâs ablaze. You stare, mouth watering, as his lips pull in to take a long drag, holding it in his chest for several seconds then slowly blowing it out. Pungent, skunky smell overcoming your senses, you feel heady just watching him smoke, him relaxing, legs spreading wide as the haze clouds up the back of the car, and he takes another pull before passing the smoldering paper across the console. Your fingertips brush and tingle as you accept it, and when you place it between your lips, you definitely donât think about how this counts as an indirect kiss.
Girl, get it the hell together.
You fundamentally fail at that when you take a hit of the joint like itâs a cigarette, inhaling too quickly and igniting a burn in the back of your throat. You cough like an amateur and a low chuckle floats over to your side as you try not to die.
âBeen a while, huh?â
âShut up,â you say hoarsely.
He smirks and leans towards the front seats, and you watch with tears in your eyes as he pulls open a small door at the bottom of the console and retrieves a mini bottle of water.
âTrade.â He beckons for the joint and you thank him as you take the bottle - the cold bottle of water. He really has a fucking fridge in his car.
The water soothes your throat as you take slow sips, watching the sexy as fuck way he smokes beside you. Itâs quiet between you, save for the rain pattering on the roof, like youâre sitting in a damn ASMR video, and you think of asking about the basketball courts to fill the silence but he speaks first.
âHeard you were out last week.â He doesnât look at you as he passes the joint.
You automatically nod. Of course word would reach him. âI was visiting my mom. She lives a few hours out of town.â
You pause to inhale a puff, letting it slowly fill your lungs before exhaling. Shit, just one hit and youâre already feeling the effects.
âMy ex, he, uh,â you swallow, finding it strange that youâre opening up to him about this. A cynical receptor in your mind whispers to you that he probably doesnât care. But he didnât have to bring up that you missed work for a week. So you indulge him. âHeâs been trying to take my dog so my mom offered to look after her while I get things sorted out since he doesnât know where she lives.â
âGetting a restraining order?â
âTrying to, but itâs kinda hard since heâs not like, yâknow, stalking me or anything.â
His eyebrows slightly furrow. âBut heâs harassing you.â
âYeah, well,â you sigh, hitting the joint again. âApparently heâs not doing enough to warrant a restraining order.â
âThatâs bullshit.âÂ
âI know. Iâd rather him just stick to calling me from a new number once in a while.â
âHe sounds like a loser.â
âThatâs why I broke up with him.â
The conversation lulls and youâre glad because talking about your ex makes you nauseous. You pass back the joint and rest your head back, closing your eyes. This is some really fucking good weed. Youâve only taken a couple hits, but already youâre slipping into another plane of existence, making you feel like you could become one with this unbelievably comfortable leather. You havenât felt this relaxed in⊠well, since the last time you smoked. Thatâs a fucking lie. Since the last time he fucked you.
Your head lifts with the sudden urge to bring up something youâve never had the chance to.
âCan I ask you something?â He nods.
âDo you know what happened to my thong?â
His fingers holding the joint pause on the way to his lips and it takes him a second to respond.
âWhat thong?â Oh, so heâs playing this game. You scoot a little closer to the center, pulling a knee up and turning your body to face him.
âThe one I had on before you fucked my brains out at the staff party.â
He huffs out a quick puff, right leg starting to bounce. âI donât know.â
âWell, I donât think it just grew legs and walked out.â
He shrugs. âSounds like you lost it.â Itâs cute, how heâs trying to gaslight you about your panties that he definitely stole.
âMore like you took it.â
He shakes his head, jaw clenching so hard, the bone ticks a few times and you take it as confirmation of your accusation.
âDid you take my panties, chef? For a little keepsake?â
âWhy the fuck would I do that?â he spits. You grin.
âYou tell me.â
He doesnât. Just sucks in a drag and gives you the joint to shut you up. But it wonât work.
âIâm not necessarily asking for it back. I just want to know where it is.â
He crosses his arms, eyes downcast, smoke filtering out of his nostrils. âCouldnât tell you.â
âIâm not judging. I think itâs hot that you stole it.â
Heâs still refusing to look at you so your hand drops to his knee. âYou wanna see what I have on now?â
He cocks an eyebrow at you before taking the joint, grabbing your wrist and yanking you down. Your hands hit leather and you gasp when he slaps your ass so you lurch forward on your elbows, pelvis pressing on his thighs. You sink into his lap as his fingers dip under the hem of your leggings, tugging the fabric down until your cheeks are bare.
âTease,â he grumbles, finding you sans panties.
Before you can open your mouth to call him a âpanty thief,â he smacks your ass again, leaving a harsher sting, and strewn across his lap like this, you feel like youâre getting a spanking. The harsher sting radiates across your entire body, igniting a fire in your core, and your toes curl in your shoes resting on the door handle, and you press your face into the cushion to keep yourself from moaning. Wait. Youâre not in his office anymore.
âDo I still have to be quiet, chef?â
âDonât be a smartass.â You honestly arenât trying to be. He rucks your leggings down to your knees and you bite down on your tongue when his palm presses flat on your mound, just feeling your wet heat. Your eyes roll as his fingers start to work in slow, circled movements around your clit, massaging your pussy in a pleasurable but not overly stimulating way. Itâs lulling you into an incredibly relaxed state, and paired with your buzz, takes all tension out of your muscles, bones, and soul. You could fall asleep like this.Â
Inhaling a deep breath of skunk and traces of his cologne, you close your eyes and rest your head on your crossed arms, just enjoying the sensation of his fingers switching up lazy motions on your clit, sliding between your folds, pressing against your hole to gradually build up your arousal. And despite the embers stirring in your belly, you start to drift off - until the rumble of his voice, low and sluggish, runs up your spine and snaps your eyes open.
âHere.â Your eyes feel heavy as you look over your shoulder to him holding out the joint for your turn. As you accept it and place it between your lips, a firm tap is delivered to your bundle of nerves, catching you off guard and causing you to cough out smoke.
âFuck!â You exclaim before you can stop yourself as he does it again, harder - warm, electric fingers placing the perfect amount of pressure on your clit, other free hand groping your ass, and it feels soooo much better than the first time he slapped your pussy in his office.
You breathe in another hit as two fingers slip between your folds and curve into your hole, smoke trapping a moan in your throat as he begins fucking against your tight, silky walls. The sensation is overwhelming because he wastes no time prodding right against your sensitive spot, other free hand continuing to rub lazy circles on your clit and you canât even make yourself feel this way, much less the last dude you-
âI hooked up with someone,â you blurt. Of all the fucking times to bring that up- His fingers still inside you, and your arousal gradually fizzles.
âOh?â
You nod, eyes squeezing shut with regret, and he just hums, sounding disinterested. Your tongue keeps moving even though a part of your brain screams for you to shut the fuck up.
âYouâve just been gone for so long and-âÂ
âYou donât have to explain yourself to me,â he interrupts, fingers slipping out. You clench around nothing, increasingly regretting opening your stupid mouth. âYou can do whatever you want.â
You wilt under his plain tone. Even though heâs right. Just because youâve been fucking whenever heâs in town, you donât owe each other anything. But maybe itâs good to share that you've had other experiences. For safety reasons. And not just to find out if heâs slept with other people.
âDid you hook up with someone?â
âCouple times.â Your stomach twists and sinks. A couple times? Twice with one person or once with two people? Whatever. Either way, itâs cool. Youâre so fucking cool with that!!Â
âDid you⊠think about me?â you mistakenly wonder aloud on an exhale of herb. Youâre letting way too many inside thoughts be outside thoughts. Youâre gonna get yourself in trouble.
âShould I have?â Your eyes narrow in a glare you wish you could sear through him. You hate this entire fucking conversation.Â
âNo. I wasnât thinking about you either,â you sniff, lying through your teeth.
âYeah, you were.â Why does he sound like heâs mocking you.Â
âWhatever. Donât know why I thought youâd give a fuck.â You suck in a quick drag and hold the joint over your shoulder, embarrassment compelling you to start pulling up your pants so you can escape your new personal hell. But he smacks your hands away and presses firmly down on your back.
âHow was it?â he asks, smoke blowing across your skin. So heâs curious? Youâre not gonna be delusional and take that as jealousy.
âHe was gentle. And nice to me.â
âThat bad, huh?â Your eyes roll, finger flicking the seat like it did something to you, annoyed that he fucking knows.
âWas whoever you fucked any good?â
âShe didnât piss me off.â
âSo, thatâs a no,â you shoot off with a slight sneer. But okay, a singular she. Is it better or worse that he slept with one person more than once? You guess you canât really have a say. Youâre gonna pick the stitching out of the leather if you donât chill out.
Things go quiet, save for the pitter patter of rain above you, echoing so loud you feel as if itâs raining in your head. The air around you is dense and misty, window above you fogged up, but you can still count the droplets racing down the glass.
âDid he make you come?â his voice cracks the quietude after a few minutes (hours?), reawakening your insides with tender fingers circling your clit. Your hips wiggle, heat building up from the pressure on your nerves. Does he really have to ask that fucking question?
âMm.â
âMm?â he parrots, delving between your folds.
âWhat do you fuckinâ think?â you grumble, back involuntarily arching to buck against his fingers.
âPoor thing.â
Before you can retort with something smart, his fingers slip back into your cunt and curl, coaxing you into a mind numbing lull as he fucks against your spot. Fingertips of his other hand pressing and tapping and rubbing against your clit, you flutter and pulse around him as he drags you further into pleasure. Slick sounds of your arousal paired with your strung out moans fill the interior the more he draws you to your peak, and you feel so disjointed as the coil in your belly tightens. Forehead pressed to leather, you whimper that youâre about to come and his fingers wrench out and you see stars when he smacks your pussy one, two, three times to cannon you into oblivion. It takes you a long time to come down, body trembling almost uncontrollably, but his hands trailing across your ass and the backs of your thighs sooth the buzz.
âYou got anything?â he asks a bit after you return to earth.
âHm? What?â Your head spins as you lift up, stinging eyes blinking rapidly to dispel the blur. Aftershocks of pleasure ripple down your spine.
âA condom.â Your shoulders drop. Fuck, heâs gonna fuck you. Youâre still not over what he just did and now heâs gonna give you dick? Wake up!Â
âDo you, for once?â Because you're exceedingly comfortable where you are and your bag is all the way up front.
âNah.â Of course not. Even if you wanted to get up to root through it, your mind blanks because you genuinely canât remember if you have any left in your purse since itâs been a while that you replenished. You've never fucked anyone without protection. Not even your ex. But youâre here now and youâre tired of waiting.
âIâm on the pill.â
âHm. Gonna take it raw?â Your cunt flutters at the thought of him filling you up with no barrier. You nod.
âYou think I should let you?â
âYouâve been gone.â
âSo? You went and got laid.â
âYeah, but it wasnât-â
âWasnât what?â You. But you canât say that. Instead, you reach back to the bulge sitting thick in his joggers.Â
âThis.â The smugness on his face falls as you give him a squeeze, hips shifting and you smile when he twitches under your hand.
Dragging your hand off his crotch, you pull up your leggings before rolling off his lap and lowering to the floor. You tug at his thigh to give you room to stand on your knees between his legs, appreciating the view of him from down here - his thick thighs straining his pants, chest and shoulders broad, jaw chiseled, and sharp, hooded eyes zeroed in on yours. You will yourself to not shy away from his intense stare, daring to hold it as you coast your hands up his thighs, the fabric of his pants soft and mildly distracting.
âWhat are you doing?â he asks, lifting the joint to take a slow drag.
âPlease.â
âYou want my dick in your mouth that bad?â Smoke sifts out of his lips, curling up and into his nose before seeping from his mouth.
âWant you to fuck my throat.â
âShit,â he growls, and aggressively sucks in another hit. You reach for it since heâs been hogging for a while but he snatches his hand away. Just as you prepare to call him out, youâre halted by the way heâs just staring down at you, white wisps floating up from the joint he holds in the air. He stops your heart and short circuits your brain when he grips your chin and leans down, thumb running across your bottom lip.
âOpen. Just a bit.â Heart loudly pounding, you oblige and part your mouth as your muscles lock in anticipation because you have no idea what heâs about to do. If he kisses you, youâre a fucking goner. Your eyes widen when he takes a long, deep drag of the joint and then angles his face close to yours. Thighs shaking at the proximity of his lips hovering over yours, youâre slow to realize heâs exhaling smoke into your mouth.Â
You get lost in the feeling of your hands massaging up and down his thighs while the back of your mind replays the image of his lips being so close to yours. Was he going to kiss you or is he just playing with you maybe he wanted to but then you did move a little so he changed his mind damn it why the fuck did you move he couldâve kissed you and you made him think you didnât-
âYou donât have to.â
âHuh?â
âYouâre hesitating.â
âIâm not. Your pants just feel good.â
He snorts, and you realize how dumb that sounded and break out into a fit of giggles, forgetting your pitiful mental torment.
âIâm serious though,â he says when you catch your breath and collect yourself. âYou donât have to.â
Your eyes drift back down to the tent in his pants, lust replacing all other thoughts, and you sit up a little straighter as you run your hands up his thighs and to his lap, staring at his focused expression as you cup and squeeze him again. His Adamâs apple bobs and you hold in a moan when he bucks up into your hand.
âI want to, chef. Let me.â
Joint nearing its end on his lips, he nods and lets you be the one to pull down his pants and boxers to his ankles, and you gulp as his dick, long and thick and hard, keels over on his lower stomach. This is your first time really seeing it and you wish there was better lighting than some dim, flickering streetlamp nearby but maybe it wouldnât matter because the buzz in your head is clouding your vision. Heâs heavy in your hand as you grab him, cunt throbbing at the bead of precum that dribbles out as you start thumbing his tip. When more spills, you catch it on your tongue, moaning at the salty taste. You roll your tongue around his head and he draws in a sharp breath as you suck him in, but youâre finding your mouth to be a little dry, so you pull off.
âIâm thirsty.â He looks to the side where you were first sitting and grabs the half-empty water bottle, uncaps it, and hands it to you. You gulp down the rest and it helps sooth the chafe in your throat but you donât know how long itâll last.
âMy mouth is still kinda dry,â you slur and pout, losing confidence that youâll be able to give him good head. Long fingers snatch up your chin and thunder pounds in your ears when his thumb shoves past your teeth and presses down on your tongue, opening your mouth. He leans down again and tips your head so far back that his face is almost directly above yours.
He pulls down on your chin so you open wide, and you shake in anticipation as he works his jaw side to side, subtly purses his lips and then spits. Saliva pools on your tongue and your heart ceases all functions because fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck Chef Min just spit in your fucking mouth. You yell at yourself not to swallow, but youâre in so much shock that you just sit there frozen. Until he grabs his dick, points it towards you, and nods at you to go ahead. You let his spit mixed with yours spill onto his tip, watching with unblinking eyes as he bites his lip while it trickles down his shaft.
The low purr that escapes his chest entices you to take him back into your mouth, and he sounds so fucking hot as you bob your head in a somewhat hurried pace, one hand twisting around his base, the other dipping to his balls.
âShit,â he growls, and you suddenly realize that he has yet to fucking touch you. You find his hand and press it on top of your head, silent permission for him to grip onto your hair.
Fingers digging into your scalp, he tugs at your roots, and it sparks a flame down your back. Jaw dropping and throat relaxing to accommodate as much of him as you can, you go down as far as you can, forcing his dick deep in your throat, stopping only when thereâs resistance. He groans, broken and satisfied in his chest when you swallow around him, and continues to hold you there. Tears streaming down your face, your jaw aches and your throat burns, but you do nothing to get him to let up, even when you start to gag and drool down his length.
âYou sound so fucking good choking on my dick,â he drawls. And thatâs why youâre gonna hold out for as long as you can. âTap out if itâs too much.â
You donât, even though it burns, and tears run down to your chin. You just dig your nails into his skin to fight through it until he finally pulls you off of him, and you gasp, chest heaving, string of saliva and precum connecting your mouth to his dick. His eyes narrow at the sight.
âFuck it, câmere.â He yanks you up off the floor by your elbows, and you go so fast that you bump your head on the roof as he positions you to straddle him.
âOw!â you exclaim, hand flying to your crown as your knees settle beside his hips.
âSorry,â he says, and you look down to a lopsided smile peering up at you that you shove his shoulder for. He helps you off with your sneakers and leggings, and then kicks off his own, and the sounds of clothes and shoes thumping on the floor just tickles you and giggles pour out of you again.
âWhat?â He asks as your shoulders start to shake.
You shrug, and he rolls his eyes when you continue to laugh for no reason. He lazily slaps your ass so you lift up and you jolt when he rubs his dick between your folds, tip just barely prodding your entrance.
âReady?â You breathe out a âYeahâ and he squeezes your hip to encourage you to sink down on him. You take your time to adjust to his girth and the feeling of every vein, every inch of him bare inside you, and - close, you just feel so close to him. Arms wrapped around his neck, breasts pressed to his chest, knees to his hips, almost completely skin to skin, and itâs setting you on fire with a glowing buzz that makes you want to hold him tighter.
Holding onto the back of the seat behind him, you leisurely bounce on your knees, hips circling and swiveling to find your rhythm, and you donât care how pathetic you sound now that youâre full of him and heâs letting small moans in your ear tell you youâre doing a good job.
You shudder when long fingers slip under your shirt and up to your bra to pull and snap the band against your spine. His nose brushes the underside of your jaw and goosebumps erupt all across your skin as he murmurs, âOkay?â beneath your ear. Head moving slowly, you nod, letting him unclasp your bra, rip down the straps, and snatch it out. He pushes up your shirt and plants both hands on your tits, cock twitching inside you when he squeezes them, nipples hard and perky under his palm. He plays with them while you continue to ride him, going slow because you donât think you can move any faster without losing control.
He must sense that because his hands drop to your ass, and then props his feet up on the backs of the chairs. His hooded eyes pierce into yours as he fucks up into you, every buck of his hips harsh and rapid and deliberate, melting you to your core. Your head lulls on the side of his, feeling as if heâs taken control of your entire body, wailing in his ear to the staccato rhythm of his thrusts.
âYou think anyone else can ruin you like this?â his warm breath cascades across your throat as he slams into you like heâs making a point. You canât even answer, youâre so focused on the impending wave that heâs catapulting you into.
A few more rough strokes and you come, violently, endlessly, wave after wave crashing into you because he doesnât slow down, doesnât stop as your cunt squeezes and pulses his dick and you gush around him. Your slick forehead is plastered to leather as you continue convulsing, fingers digging into his shoulder, moaning out something, you think his name, and then he stops, twitches inside you, and cusses.
He manhandles you off of him and onto the seat. Your back hits the cushion and your little world inside his fogged up car goes by in slow motion as you stare up at him crouching above you, knee wedged between the seat and your hip. Cock hanging low, he tugs your legs up on his shoulders and puts a hand on the top of the backseat, sharp groan escaping his chest as he lines himself up and plunges back into you.
âGonna come in your mouth,â he rasps, and before you can catch onto what he says, he pounds into you, hips slamming against your ass fast and hard, making your bones ache and tears well in your eyes. You grab onto his wrist to hold on, vision blurred as you reach up, entranced by his chain banging against his chest and the sliver of skin peeking out from the top unbuttoned part of his shirt. You feel the urge to rip it to shreds but you donât even have enough strength to undo another button. You just let your hand burn on his clavicle as your bodies move in tandem, not caring that your back is chafing on the seat, too distracted by the bead of sweat trailing down the side of his neck.Â
Your hand trails up to catch it, brushing the side of his throat and in the moment that you glance at him, he slams into you, stays still for a second then yanks himself out, pushing your legs off of his shoulders.
âSit up.â Your body moves on his command, foot on the floor giving you leverage to push yourself up against the door, eyes focused on his hand tightly gripping his wet cock.
âTongue out,â he growls, and you open wide but he doesnât make it there before a string of white shoots across your face, landing on your chin and cheek. His cockhead shoves onto your tongue so cum lands there, and so much slides down to the back of your throat that you have to close your mouth and swallow after a couple of seconds so you donât choke.
âFuck,â he snarls aggressively under his breath, tip rubbing in between your lips as more cum pulses out of his slit and trickles down your chin. You stick out your tongue again to swallow down the rest of it, eyes dragging between his face and his hand jerking his dick.
He releases a sharp breath and lets go of his cock, almost touching your stomach as it hangs heavy and low in the air, mouth open as he catches his breath. He then reaches down to push his cum on your face towards your mouth. His thumb dips past your lips, and you suck around it, staring up at him through wet, blurry vision.
âMessy girl,â he mutters, thumb sliding across the other side of your jaw, smearing your saliva through the leftover white and sticking it back in your mouth. You swirl your tongue, savoring the taste of him and the way heâs staring down at you with so much darkness in his eyes, you shiver. He drags it down your teeth, snagging on your bottom lip, and then gives the side of your chin a light tap before shifting away. Your heart skips. You feel like a good girl.
He finds his boxers and joggers before sitting back on the seat and pulling them on. He gathers your bra and clothes and shoes as you steadily sit up, and you both quietly get dressed. As you slip on your leggings, he checks his Rolex.
âShit, itâs late.â You nod, finish getting dressed, and follow him in getting out of the car to return to the front.
In the driverâs seat, he rubs his hands down his face, fingers digging into his eyes.
âYou okay?â you ask as he rakes a hand through his hair and shakes his head a few times.
âIâm high as fuck, I need a minute.â
âTake your time.â He nods and reaches back behind the seats, pulling out two more mini bottles of water and passing one to you. You only take a little sip because you already have to pee, but he finishes his in one go, letting out a satisfied sigh as he crushes the empty bottle. You pull your lips in, fighting off another round of giggles. Heâs so fucking cute.
He sticks the plastic in a cupholder and then opens up the console again, retrieving a carton of cigarettes.
âYou mind?â he asks, holding up the pack. You shake your head. Now that the rain has reduced to a drizzle, he rolls down his window all the way and lights up a cigarette, blowing the smoke out into the cool air. You pick at your cuticles, buzz in your head still swirling and obscuring your filter and you feel like youâre about to bust if you donât say something.
âCan I ask you something else?â
âOh, god,â he mutters. âYou have to?â You nod. He just sighs and takes another drag and you take that as your cue to go on.
âDo you have a secret family you sneak off to visit?â
He whips a confused expression your way, sharply blowing out smoke. âIâm sorry, what?â
You shrug. You shouldâve asked about the damn basketball courts. Too late to take it back now. âItâs just a rumor that goes around because youâre gone so much.â
âI have other restaurants I own that I need to check up on. And theyâre not all local.â
Oh, right. Shit, you feel mildly stupid for leaning into believing baseless rumors instead of remembering that Chef Min has been an extremely successful entrepreneur since his early 20s.
âIs it dumb that I want to open my own restaurant?â
âDumb?â
âI mean, is it too late?â
âItâs never too late to do anything.â
âSays the dude who opened up his first restaurant at 22.â
âI took over my first restaurant,â he corrects, staring at the cigarette with a slight frown. âAfter my dad passed away.â
You knew that. Your mind races with all of the countless interviews youâve watched and read and listened to about his comeuppance. He never seemed to appreciate it when an interviewer brought up the fact that he got his start because his dad died from a heart attack and his mother was too grief stricken to carry on with the business.
Youâre pretty sure he doesnât want to hear an apology, but you donât want to completely gloss over the fact that he told you that.
âItâs really amazing - what you did to carry on his legacy.â He just nods shortly and takes a long drag, crossing his arm across his chest. You hope that isnât the worst thing you could say.
âDo you have any advice?â His eyebrows lift as he hits the cigarette again before ashing it out on the cracked window.
âPeople might not take you seriously, but donât let that stop you.â
You stick a hand between your thighs, shifting as youâre brought back to the many times the man you thought you would marry ridiculed you for your dreams.
âYeah. Thatâs another reason I had to break up with my ex.â
He glances over at you but doesnât make a comment. Just hits the cigarette again before launching into his wisdom. He tells you to take inspiration from other chefs and kitchens, but define your own identity as a cook and runner of a restaurant. To never lose sight of the importance of detail and control over your goals. And to not let setbacks set you back - allow room for growth at every turn.
âIt can take up a lot of your focus, but donât let it consume you and take over your personal life. I made that mistake.â
âWhat do you mean?â He pauses mid drag, jaw clenching so much so his bone protrudes.
âIt got in the way of my marriage.â Your eyes dart to his ring finger.
âYou were married?â He nods.
âA couple years ago.â Holy shit. Career-focused Chef Min, hitched and settled down? You donât recall him mentioning that in any of his interviews. Youâre morbidly curious.
âWhat happened?â
You regret the question as soon as it echoes in the air. You should take it back because itâs none of your business and you can imagine heâs about to remind you as such, but suddenly, youâre incapable of speaking. Regret morphs into remorse when he maintains the silence, and hopefully he just didnât hear you toe a line.
âSorry,â you manage to breathe out, cursing your hazy mind and dry tongue.
âShe wanted a family and I didnât.â Oh.
âOh.â
âYeah,â he mutters.
You sit there in frozen silence, unsure of what to say to that very personal piece of information. He breaks it and abruptly shuts down the conversation before you have the chance to gather your thoughts.
âAlright, I have to get back.â
He tosses the cigarette out of the window before rolling it up and starting up the engine. While you buckle up, he switches on the radio, and as smooth jazz lilts into the car above the soft whoosh of the fans, he turns it up and you safely assume that heâs done talking.
The ride to your place takes about 20 minutes. 20 minutes of jazz-filled silence, of his phone buzzing in the cupholder that he never touches or even looks at, of you feeling the best youâve felt in weeks, and of you wondering whatâs going on inside his head. And if that frown on his face is just natural. But what heâs shared with you tonight, is more than you ever thought youâd get. And yet, when he pulls up to your house, you kill your own vibe when a coat of a dull cloud paints your chest. You donât want this night to end.
âWell, that was good,â you murmur as he puts the car in park. âAnd nice to do it somewhere other than your office.â
âMm,â he hums. Crossing his arms. âDonât get used to it.â
Your smile falls. Donât get used to it? The essence of vulnerability you both just shared feels⊠worthless. What was the point? He answered your questions - even though the weed cut down on your filter and made you bold enough to ask them. And maybe the weed is what let him answer instead of dismissing you or straight up ignoring you. But damn. You feel dumb, now that that wall is back up. Anger and a tinge of sadness burrows beneath your skin and now you want to be the one to put a wall up.
âWe donât have to do this anymore.â The words that come out of your mouth slap you in the face. And seemingly him as well.
âWhat?â
You clench your jaw so tight it hurts. âWhenever you decide youâre done with me, you can just-â you stop yourself from giving him suggestions on how to cut you off. âItâs whatever, okay? No hard feelings.â
He looks at you for a few seconds then jerks his head up in a subtle nod and you pretend it doesnât hurt that he says nothing, just stares at the steering wheel.
âThanks for the ride,â you mutter, and push open the door. You might slam it behind you but you donât fucking care. If youâre really nothing to him at this point, he can go straight to hell.
The following day, you almost call out of work because youâre still simmering after last night. Not even sleeping helped you get over it. You donât want to see him and make your inner turmoil worse. But you need the money. And itâd be stupid and pathetic of you to skip out because youâre angry at your boss for something as silly as emotional distance. You just wonât pay him any mind. You know, like he does to you.
But heâs not even there, so itâs a good thing you didnât sacrifice a check. For the next few days, he doesnât come at all. Maybe thatâs a sign itâs high time you moved on. You canât be hooked on him forever. And how long can you continue to lie to your best friend without feeling horrible? Itâll eventually eat you up inside, and you donât want to have to live with that. So maybe this is for the best.
But the night before your weekend off that you plan to get absolutely trashed and smashed, youâre at your locker to change into your uniform where you notice a folded up note on the top shelf.Â
Stay late tonight.
Itâs handwriting you recognize from long to-do lists posted up on the fridges every Tuesday, labels in the stock room, signatures on shipments, and drafts of menus scattered across his desk. Chef Min wants you to stay? If he was gonna fire you, he wouldâve done it to your face already. Whatever it is, you donât have it in you to ignore.Â
He doesnât make an appearance at all throughout the shift, and you wonder if maybe that note was from another time and you somehow missed it. But just as the doors close and everyone gets started on their tasks, he pops up to have a brief discussion with Sous Chef Jung. You know you shouldnât stare, but youâre gonna feel really stupid if you end up at his office when heâs not actually expecting you. Just when youâre about to look away because youâve been lingering too long to be discreet, his eyes shift to you and he gives you a subtle nod before turning back to his conversation.
You play the whole charade of leaving with Jimin, gossiping on the way to your cars, hanging around a little too long just to catch up even though youâre both exhausted from the night, and driving out of the parking lot behind him, just to turn around once heâs out of sight. After parking around back, your anxious fingers shake as you unlock the back door because what the fuck are you about to walk into? The kitchen is dark, just how you and Jimin left it, but thereâs a small shredding of light from the hall leading out towards Chef Minâs office.
His door is wide open when you tentatively peer inside. Heâs at his desk, as always, in casual clothing again, just sifting through mountains of paperwork, glasses slid down to the tip of his nose.
âUm, chef?â you meekly call out, heart skidding to a stop when his head whips up to you. Youâre too far to tell that the pinch between his brows loosens when his eyes land on you.
âOh, I thought you left.â
âI had to get something out of my car,â you lie, stepping forward and leaning against the door frame, twiddling thumbs in the pocket of your hoodie.
âItâs fixed?â
âYeah.â
He nods once and turns his attention back to his papers. Did he forget about the note in your locker?
âWhy did you want me to stay late?â
He looks back up at you. âOh.â
You watch, confused, as he stands and reaches into his pocket. A knot tightens in the pit of your chest when he pulls out your missing thong.
âHere.â Your hands ball into fists. Thatâs why he left a note in your locker? To return your panties he denied taking? If this is his way of non-verbally ending things⊠Fuck him. But at least this way you can get the last word.
âI told you I didnât want it back,â you say in a snippy tone. âThanks for wasting my time. Have a good night, chef.â
You storm out in a huff, stomping through the dark restaurant towards the front parking lot and just before you can burst into the night, you get a notification on your phone from your doorbell camera app that thereâs motion detected. Throat tightening, you freeze when the grainy footage shows your ex standing in front of your apartment. Furious, you curse and hold your phone up to your mouth, pressing the microphone button.
âI know youâre not outside of my fucking house right now,â you hiss.
âItâs been weeks since Iâve heard from you.â God, his voice has never been so grating.
âYeah, thereâs a reason for that!â
âCâmon, youâre not being fair about all this.â
âFair about what?â
âMang.â
You bite back a scream. âSheâs not your dog! She never was!â
âBut I took care of her too.â
âOnly when I asked you!â you exclaim. The audacity of this guy! âYou know how many times I had to remind you to feed her and take her out? You never remembered on your own. How am I supposed to trust you with her alone?â
âThatâs what I want to talk about. Please, just for a few minutes.â
You know heâs fucking lying. If you go home and confront him, heâll extend his stay by making up excuses to keep the conversation going and youâre not about to put up with it.
âI- Iâm not even going to be home tonight.â
âWhere are you going? Jiminâs?â Fuck, thatâs the only place you have to crash unless you want to trek out all the way to your momâs. But if you go to Jiminâs, your ex will definitely show up and get into it with him and one or both of them will end up in jail and that canât happen.
Your phone is snatched from your hand before you can come up with some stupid ass lie to get your ex off your back.
âItâs none of your business where sheâs going,â Chef Min snaps, voice above your head, and your shoulders hunch when you realize heâs standing right behind you. You turn, eyes wide, astounded that heâs intervening, and swallow at his pinched brows and deep frown. âGet the fuck off her property, unless you want the cops called.â
âWho the fuck is this?â Your ex yells your name loud enough to make you both wince, and he casually passes back your phone like he didnât just confront your ex. You glance down to the now muted screen, shutting off your phone when your ex proceeds to yell into the camera and youâre grateful you canât hear him.
âUm,â you swallow, eyes following Chef Min as he unbolts the locked door. What else can you fucking say?
âItâs late. Iâll walk you to your car.â
He holds open the door for you like he did the other night, and as you start to walk towards your car, you nervously look over your shoulder to him locking up and yanking the handle before he starts following you. You slow down a bit because he did just say he would walk you.
Your car is the only one in the lot, you awkwardly point to it as he stops a few paces away. âYou wanna smoke?âÂ
âSure,â you say without hesitation, throwing all of your self-made terms that youâre done with him right out the window. He stares down at gravel.
âActually, I um,â he clears his throat. âI donât have any bud on me.â
âOh.â You deflate. âThatâs okay.â
âBut I do at my place.â If you were hooked up to an EKG machine, there would only be a long, flat beep.
âYouâre⊠inviting me over?â Did you hear him right?
He nods, eyes flitting between you and the ground. Okay, what the fuck?
âSure youâre not just getting tired of fucking me in your office?â You tease, although your heart is now racing at hamster speed.
âDonât make me regret this,â he sighs. But thereâs no real bite to his tone.
âI wonât. Iâll make it worth it, chef.â He jostles his keys. Then glances up at you through his bangs.
ââYoongiâ is fine.â
.
.
.
ahhhhasdflksdcjf it's here finally i really hope it was worth the wait!!! thanks for reading!! i hope you enjoyed! pls support with likes, comments, and reblogs!! i'd love to know what you think! i've never written a high scene before and it's been a long time since i've been high lmao so i did some reading and research to help out but idk i still kinda struggled with it. and for yoongi's spiel of advice, i took bits and pieces of gordon ramsay interviews. (sidenote: pls tell me i'm not alone in thinking it's hot that chef min was previously married). and i know him shotgunning her and spitting in her mouth when they havenât kissed yet is crazy im so sorryđ
You become a stellar worker at Montana 28. Not because you want employee of the month. But since you stopped getting yourself in trouble, you stopped having reasons to stay late.
And Chef Min hasnât given you any.
Youâve only caught glimpses of him these past few weeks since heâs been in and out, hopping on flights to go on domestic and international trips, although no one knows exactly what for. There are, of course, rumors that he attends various conventions and seminars that he leads and teaches. Taehyung once said that he has a secret family he goes to visit on the coast, and Chef Min is extremely private, so that could be true, and youâd be none the wiser. But you get sick to your stomach every time you think of that being a possibility, and you secretly hate Taehyung for instilling that in your mind.
While heâs out, Sous Chef Kim takes the lead in the kitchen and although the atmosphere is lighter with his easy-going energy, dad jokes, and squeaky laugh, you donât get the same kind of thrill whenever he walks behind you like you do with Chef Min.Â
And when he comes in, he does so unannounced. Not even Sous Chef Kim has any idea when the boss is gonna show face and expect everything to be in tip top shape. So the entire staff is always on their toes. Especially you. He wonât catch you slipping at any point.
You show up early, only to be disappointed when he arrives hours later or not at all. You stay late to do extra prep work, only for him to leave without giving you a first glance. He barely looks at you whenever he passes by your station.
Heâs just plain fucking ignoring you.Â
On the first of the month, he switches up the specials, and all the cooks are required to taste his new dishes, then cook them and wait for him to evaluate and make suggestions. Everyone here deserves top notes from the head chef, but when your turn comes, he extends you nothing but criticism when you know for a fact that your dishes are near perfect recreations because you spent all night studying and practicing his recipes. He has nothing good whatsoever to say, claiming that you didnât put enough heat on the sauce and the noodles were slightly overcooked and then continues down the line to Hoseok and Jimin and compliments them on their sears and garnishes.Â
You stay late again to practice the dish he criticized the most, and when he comes out, you pretend it doesnât hurt after he turns down your request to retry it and just shakes his head, tells you not to forget the lights before you lock up, and leaves.
Youâre slowly being driven into madness because you havenât messed up at all and yet Chef Min is treating you as if you were a rookie - nothing more than, well, nothing. Deep down, you dread that itâs because heâs regretful of that night in his office and doesnât want to face you again. And yet, maybe this is just what heâs like with people who donât mess up on purpose. But all you want to know is when heâs going to give it to you for being so good.
Youâve sometimes gone to bed so frustrated because he hasnât looked at you a single time that you strip down and try slapping your cunt with the same force that he used. But it doesnât have the same effect. Your handâs not as big or soft or strong as his and you scream into your pillow because you canât fucking come. Not in the way you need to, not in the way thatâs satisfying, that would settle and release this seething, burning ache in your core.Â
You donât know how many nights off youâve spent hitting up old hookups, or lurking in the club with Jimin when he has off too trying to find someone to have quick and meaningless sex. Though none of them could handle you in the way you need. You almost caved and unblocked your ex on Insta because he knows how you like it. But youâre not that desperate. Or stupid. And if Jimin found out you even thought about it, heâd give you a good what for.
Thereâs no one else who can give you the gratification you need. Now you lie awake at night working out what you can do to get Chef Minâs attention but not lose your job.
Montana 28's first company party of the new year falls on a Saturday night. It coincides with the scheduled deep cleaning that will shut down the restaurant for a day, so Chef Min closes the doors at 8pm to host and cater a dinner for the entire staff the night before. But heâs notorious for not attending. Youâve heard that, occasionally, heâll pop in to say hi, but never sticks around for more than a few minutes. Dips out Irish-goodbye style and disappears into his office. It does make everyone feel a little more comfortable taking advantage of the free drink vouchers when the boss isnât around to witness his professional staff letting loose.
As for you, though⊠You canât stop looking around, a rippling throb under your ribs that longs for his appearance. Because you definitely didnât go home after work, shower, use the body wash and lotion and perfume you save for special occasions, put on makeup, and dress in the kind of outfit you wouldnât normally wear to a staff party hoping he wouldn't walk in. And you look fucking good. In your black lace tights, short black pleated skirt, and a rose pink v-neck cashmere sweater with thick, simple bows as straps. Alluring, edgy, you know youâve turned a few heads from your co-workers, though their gaze isnât the one youâre after. But itâs two hours in and still no sign of Chef Min.
You and Jimin made plans to stay for a bit, pregame with the free drinks, and then hit the clubs downtown, so your effort wonât completely go to waste. Except heâs stringing along one of his friends in hopes of being a successful matchmaker. You love Jimin dearly, but the friends heâs introduced you to so far are⊠respectfully, vanilla. Not at all your type. And youâre just not interested in entertaining someone who wonât do anything for you.
So what if you have tunnel vision because youâre stuck on one particular man whoâs constantly out of reach?
Black Mary Jane platform heels propped up on the ring of the barstool, you suck down one of Jeonggukâs specialty vodka cocktails, trying your best to pay attention as he gabs to you, Jimin and Ty about his latest idea for an addition to his tattoo sleeve.Â
But then Chef Min strides into the dining room donning an all black ensemble, a thin but glimmering gold chain resting just below the column of his throat and - you lose your breath. Heâs wearing a pair of rimless, rectangle glasses. Heat pulses down to your core. Youâve never been so turned on by a pair of fucking glasses before. What the fuck. All common sense leaves your body, mind and soul as soon as he catches your stare from across the room, holds it for two seconds that seem to pass by in slow motion, and then turns back to the conversation with the managers.
Self-control slipping away because of how badly you need him now that heâs standing less than 10 feet away from you, you want to try and catch his eye again, try and make him see you, make him think of how good youâve been, but Jiminâs sitting right next to you, right in your line of view of him, and you canât take the risk of Jimin catching you. So you sit there and pretend itâs not killing you to not look over at Chef Min.
âHowâs your mom doing?â Jimin asks, turning the conversation onto you as his boyfriend engages Jeongguk about anime.
âOh, sheâs fine. A lot better, actually.â
âThatâs good! Gonna visit her soon?â
Before you can answer, Ty taps Jimin on the shoulder.
âI think your boss is coming over here,â he says, pointing behind Jimin. Your spine involuntarily straightens as you and Jimin look in the direction that Ty is facing to see Chef Min heading near your spot at the bar.
âOh, shit,â Jimin mutters beside you. Your stomach squeezes. Oh, shit indeed. Jeongguk immediately drops what heâs doing and briskly wipes down the counter and clears away empty glasses.
âHey, Chef,â Jimin bravely greets as the owner steps up to the bar a few seats away, phone in hand. You echo him, heart pounding in your chest as he finally glances over and nods. But just at Jimin.
âEvening.â
âChef, what can I get you?â Jeongguk asks, trying way too hard to sound casual.
âOne Cass and two whiskey shooters.â
Jeongguk turns for the fridge to retrieve the beer, expertly cracking it open and sliding it across the counter.
âThanks,â he mutters, taking a swift swig as Jeongguk snatches two mini bottles of liquor from the shelf behind him and passes them over.
âHave a good rest of your night.â He tips his bottle towards your small group, expression bored and refusing to look at you, then turns and walks away.
âWell, heâs quite the social butterfly,â Ty sarcastically remarks as you watch Chef Min walk back to the other side of the dining area. Jimin shushes him even though the boss is well out of earshot.
He ignored you again, keeping up the silent treatment. What the fuck did you do wrong? What stupid point is he trying to prove? You doubt heâll give you a chance to find out.
Fine. What-fucking-ever.
Youâll go downtown, meet Jiminâs friend, shamelessly flirt, feel wanted and desired, but then take him home and have sex so boring and vanilla that youâll have to use your vibrator on the highest setting after you kick him out. Then come with the image of Chef Min bending you over his desk and fucking you so hard, you forget who you are. And then get mad that thatâs only a fantasy.
Because youâre nauseous with irritation, you excuse yourself to the bathroom and consequently pass by the group of managers where Chef Min stands directly facing you, giving you the opportunity to glare at him. You curse internally when he locks onto it and for some reason you prolong it until your neck starts to crane. Long enough for you to notice that he doesnât look bored anymore.
That has to mean something. He has to be playing you. You canât stand it anymore.
Fuck it. FUCK IT! Youâve been good, and fuck if youâre not gonna get what you deserve.
Before you leave the bathroom, you reapply your peach-flavored lip gloss, fix your hair, and make sure the right amount of cleavage is peaking out of the low dip in your top. If heâs going to play, so are you.
But when you return, heâs nowhere to be found and the managers have scattered. At the empty table where they were standing, sit the two whiskey shooters. Chef Minâs whiskey shooters that he left behind.
Someone should return them to him. That someone is going to be you.
You snatch up the bottles, turn away from the crowd, and stuff them in the waistband of your skirt, secured by a tight, black belt. Your sweater covers them perfectly. You swivel around and coolly walk back to the bar.
Jimin and Ty are caught up in conversation with other coworkers so you end up staying longer than originally planned. But it leaves you more time to plot how youâre going to sneak away from your best friend and off to Chef Minâs office without getting caught. Jeongguk tries offering you refills, but you just take water, because youâre not going to let inebriation get in the way of your plan.
After a little over an hour, people start to trickle out, and finally Jimin turns to you.
âHey, bestie. Ready to go?â
You smooth a hand down your stomach, bracing yourself to lie on your dogâs name.
âActually, my neighbor called and said she canât take out Mang, so Iâm gonna run home real quick. Why donât you go on ahead and Iâll meet you down there?â
âYou sure?â
âYeah, Iâll take a cab.â
And, success. Jimin kisses your forehead, tells you to give Mang a pet, and gathers up Ty to head out. You anxiously hide in the empty hall leading to the back, waiting for a few more people to leave, including the remaining manager. Once youâre pretty sure youâre in the clear, you convince yourself this isnât a stupid idea, and make your way through the kitchen.
Standing in front of his office, fist held up in the air, you stare at the strip of light peeking out from under the door. Running on pure adrenaline and lust, youâre really fucking doing this.
You softly knock three times, muscles locking up in anticipation for what consequence you may face for your audacity. But a few seconds pass and you hear no commotion from inside. Did he leave and forget to turn off the light? No, Chef Minâs not the type. So you knock again, a little louder.
âChef? Itâs me.â
Thereâs still nothing, and maybe heâs really not in there and youâre standing in front of an empty office. Maybe he didnât hear you, so it wouldnât hurt to knock a third time, right? Just as your knuckle raps once, the door suddenly swings open and, taking a surprised step back, youâre met with Chef Minâs crossed brows and frown.
âAre you nuts?â Fully expecting him to tell you to fuck off, you hold up an honest pinch.
âA little.â
âGet in here,â he scowls, grabbing your elbow and pulling you towards him, straight into a cloud of his musky cologne. As he moves you out of the way and against the wall, he quickly looks up and down the hall before shutting the door.
âWhat are you doing?â he asks, releasing your arm to put his hands on his hips.
âYou left these at the bar.â His eyebrow lifts as you reach under your sweater and pull out the two mini bottles of whiskey. A flash of confusion crosses his expression as you offer them to him, and he doesnât accept them right away.
âAnd you took it upon yourself to bring them to me?â
âYeah. Everyone else is leaving.â
âUh-huh.â He finally extends a hand and you pass them over, a small spark shocking your fingertips as they brush his palm. Wordlessly, he pockets them and turns around to sit back at his desk. He hasnât invited you to stay but he hasnât exactly kicked you out, so you take heed in stepping away from the door.
âHow come you always sneak out of parties so early? You donât like us or something?â
âI have work to do.â
âAt a staff party that you paid for?â
âIt came with a shit ton of paperwork.â
âAll work and no play makes Chef Min a dull boy.â
He shakes his head and rolls his eyes at your small giggle. Joking around with your boss? Seriously, what the fuck are you on? Calm down. But his annoyance is just amping you up.
âWhat can I do for you?â He finishes that sentence speaking your first name for the first time in a low, gravelly register and it shakes something awake inside you.
âHave I done something wrong, chef?â
âAside from showing up to my office unannounced?â
You shrug. Whatâs done is done. âWell, I just wanted to check and make sure youâre not angry with me.â
âIâm not,â he answers, no inflection in his voice as he scans over a page. âIs that all?â
You drive your nails into your palm, eye twitching at the way heâs casually dismissing you. You should go. Take whatâs left of your withered pride and dignity and just leave because clearly he wants nothing to do with you. But since his attention is buried in his paperwork, you take the fleeting time to just stare at him. Because he looks good. So fucking good, and he smells divine and your teeth itch to bite at his exposed collarbones and - what do you have to do to get him to look at you? And then your big mouth opens and blurts a personal question thatâs like testing waters swarming with bloodthirsty sharks. Dangerous territory. But maybe youâll finally get his attention.
âAre you going on a date?â
His pen pauses and he finally lifts his head to glare at you from above the frame of his glasses. You mildly regret existing.
âSorry?â
Fingers trembling as you skim the corner of his desk, you shrug, scrambling to act nonchalant. âI mean, youâre all dressed up, and with Valentineâs day coming up, I just thoughtâŠâ
He clicks his pen several times on the scattered papers and you refrain from looking at him.
âI had a meeting earlier. Not that I have to explain myself to you.â
That snaps you out of this whole charade of trying to get him to commit to a next time. Now youâre just back to being annoyed.
âYouâre right, my apologies, chef.â Two fingers on your temple, you give him a lazy, mock salute, and subtly roll your eyes, but enough that he catches it.
âWell, I wonât waste your time. And I need to head downtown anyway, Jiminâs introducing me to one of his friends.â
You study his face for any sign that heâs bothered by that, and anger flares your nostrils when he just continues to flip through the pile, paying you absolutely no mind. Time to pull out all the stops.
âHeâs boring, but at least heâll actually fuck me.â
A beat passes and you wait with bated breath for him to react, but he doesnât even move.
âHave fun with that,â he says flatly, scrawling his signature on the bottom of a page. And then he glances up at you.
âClose the door on your way out.â
Heating up with rage, you nearly sprain your ankle as you turn for the door before your big mouth gets you fired. But you put the doorknob in a chokehold. Is he serious? And are you really about to let this go? Hell no.
âDo you want me to fucking beg you or something?â He looks up, staring at you blank and clueless.
âBeg me? For what?â You scoff. Heâs playing you like a damn clarinet. Yeah, fuck that.
âYâknow what? Iâm not gonna play your shitty ass game. Bye,â you sneer. Biting your tongue from calling him an asshole, you yank open the door and prepare to stomp out and slam it behind you, but then his laugh, dark and deep and deriding, traps you in place, the low vibrations from his chest thrilling your spine.
âClose the door.â You squeeze the knob once more before giving it a subtle push and letting go so the door shuts with a sharp click.
âLock it.â Pulse flaring, you robotically switch the lock.
âCome back here.â You swivel around, heels thumping on the thinly carpeted floor as you trudge towards him and the way he sits there, arms crossed, in front of his desk where he had you bent over 33 days ago, knuckles deep in your cunt has the pit of your stomach tightening at the thought.
The air has significantly changed between the two of you, but he starts this new exchange with a question you donât really appreciate.
âHow much have you had to drink?â
âWhy?â
âBecause.â Oh, so heâs trying to paint you like youâre not in your right mind.
âNot much.â
âUh-uh, be specific.â
âI only had one cocktail.â
âWhen?â
âRight before you showed up.â He turns his chair to the side to face you a bit more, legs widely spread.
âYouâre real fucking bold, you know that? Bringing drinks in here like weâre friends, wanting to know why I left the party, if Iâm going on a date. You think thatâs any of your business?â
A smidgen of shame courses through you, and you swallow. âNo.â
His eyes narrow. âNo, what?â
Oh. Ohoohh. That tone. The one he used when he was edging you to the point of tears, demanding you to submit to him. Heâs using it now and it calls you to be ready to drop to your knees.
âNo, chef.â
He leans forward and begins gathering up all the papers in one pile. âTell me the real reason why youâre here.â
His head tilts when you hesitate to respond, tapping the stack on his desk so the papers are neat.
âWhat, now you donât have shit to say?â
âYou know exactly what I want,â you snap, boiling with impatience. He nods, undeterred by your fresh tone.
âI do. But I want to hear it from your smart mouth.â
âWhy? Youâre not gonna do shit about it. Itâs been a whole month since youâve even looked at me.â
Jaw clenching, his tongue kisses his teeth as he beckons you closer with a finger pointed to the floor. Once you stand a step away from him, he unfolds his arms to glide a warm hand up the back of your thigh and under your skirt. You gasp when he smacks the plush of your ass, pushing you into the arm of his chair.
âLook at you,â he says in a less harsh yet slightly condescending tone, groping your lace covered cheek. âAll mad because I havenât been giving you the attention you want.â
Your resolve wilts and you resort to pouting. âIâve been so good and you said youâd fuck me but youâve just been ignoring me.â
âNow you know what itâs like to be pissed off on purpose,â he says, smirking. Your heart skips. So youâre not crazy. âI bet you wanted to mess up around me so bad so Iâd yell at you again. Just so desperate that youâd do anything to get my attention.â
Damnitdamnitdamnit. He knows next to nothing about you, and yet he knows you so well.
âItâs good you didnât though; Iâd have to fire you.â
The tips of his fingers poke in between your thighs, forcing them to spread so he can slide along the string of your thong.
âYou get so wet for me,â he murmurs, lips curling. âNeedy fucking slut.â
You struggle to keep your composure at that and the way he takes his time shamelessly dragging his gaze up and down your body, drinking you in with his head tilted.
âDid you get all dressed up for me?â
You shake your head in delusional denial. He chuckles, pushing at your thigh to guide you in front of him, his free hand adjusting the waist of his slacks.
âYouâre a rotten liar.â You donât deny that.
âGonna show me what youâve got on underneath?â
Taking a deep breath to collect enough strength, you bend down to undo the buckles of your heels, squeezing your arms against your breasts to give him a better view of your cleavage. He lets out a sigh, hands clasping in his lap. You set your heels in the space underneath his desk and straighten, waiting quietly for his instruction.
âTights off. But keep the skirt.â
You tremble under his unwavering, analytical gaze as you take care in removing the delicate lace on your legs. When your tights and thong are pulled off and dropped into a crumpled pile, he commands you to sit and you donât need to be told twice, hands curling on the edge of his desk to give you leverage to hop onto the surface, legs dangling in front of him.
He leans up, takes off his glasses with one hand, and presses the temple tips against his chest to close them, shutting them away in a drawer while you try very, very hard not to drool. And then he does something that makes you lose your grip on the table - scoots off of his chair and lowers himself to the ground.
Chef Min. In his office. On his knees. For you. Head of red hair in between your thighs, lips pink and ready to devour you. You could come from this sight alone.
Hands on the insides of your thighs, he presses your legs apart, and you watch, chest heaving, as he stares at your bare pussy, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
âPlease,â you whoosh out under your breath, fluttering clit dying to be touched.
âWhat?â He tilts his head, red bangs falling to the side. âYou want my mouth?â
You frantically nod and scoot closer to the edge. âIâve been good. Right?â
Fingers bunching up your skirt, he delivers a sharp tap of two fingers directly on your clit and your legs jerk from the small electrocution. His eyes drag up to you, and so does that sinful, cocky smirk. He does it again and again, making contact with more fingers and more force each time, luring out oozes of arousal and stoking the flame in your belly. Youâre a fucking goner and he knows it.
âGonna be pathetic and come just from this again?â He emphasizes his point by lazily swatting your cunt. You squeeze your eyes shut and tense your muscles, begging yourself to hold on.
âOr are you gonna wait for my mouth?â
âMouth,â you whimper, breath shaking just imagining what his mouth will feel like on your cunt, and your hips buck, searching for that friction. His arms tighten around your thighs, strong biceps keeping you from moving any further.
âHold still and be quiet.â You nod, chest heaving when he leans in, drags his mouth along the crook of your thigh, giving you the ghost of a taste of what youâre about to get.
When his lips finally kiss between your folds, you throw your head back, releasing a high-pitched moan to the ceiling and gripping the edge of his desk so tightly your knuckles strain. You almost break your neck bringing your head down when he suddenly backs away and peers up at you with a fierce glare that has you locking up again.
âShut the fuck up and hold still or Iâll stop.â
âI canât help it,â you whine in protest.
âI donât care. Donât get us caught.â
âNo oneâs over here.â
âStop arguing with me,â he spits.
âS-Sorry.â His glare fiercens at that and you obediently clamp your mouth shut.
âDon't fucking piss me off,â he threatens lowly, narrowed eyes lingering on yours as you force yourself to stay absolutely still so he knows youâve listened.
Seemingly satisfied that you understand his rule, he ducks his head back in between your thighs, bunched up skirt blocking your view as he flattens his tongue on your hole and hums upon tasting you, the deep reverberation shooting heat right to your core. How the fuck is he expecting you to stay quiet? He lazily drinks you in, kissing and slurping through your folds, but driving you to the brink of insanity by avoiding your clit. His nose nudges it every now and then, but itâs not enough. Since youâre in no position to tell him what you need, you strain to keep quiet and not beg as his tongue works you into a wetter mess. Your arms start to ache from holding yourself up, but when you reach to grab onto his hair, he smacks you away.
âHands to yourself,â he grumbles into your skin. Pouting, you fall back on your elbows, disappointed that he wonât let you touch him back. But you quickly forget when his mouth forges onto your clit and begins sucking you into oblivion, and you have to harshly bite down on your lip to keep yourself from screaming. The wet sounds of his mouth suckling your bud and the rapid breathing through his nose paired with the intense, increasing pressure makes you lie back completely, and you grab onto your breasts and dig into them hard to stop yourself from losing it out loud.
Youâre starting to forget how to breathe. You want to curse, you want to scream his name, you want to just scream because holy fuck, youâre gonna come so hard, legs shaking and squeezing the sides of his head and - is he really fucking serious? How in the actual fuck are you supposed to be quiet when heâs making you feel this good? Youâre giving yourself a headache from how hard youâre clenching your jaw and crossing your eyebrows to focus on not making a single noise. But you canât piss him off, canât risk making him stop, so you will yourself to breathe through the insurmountable pleasure pulsing through you.
But then his thumb dives into your folds, gathers up slick, then moves up to your clit to rub firm, meticulous circles as his tongue takes place in fucking your hole and you slap both hands over your mouth to stifle a gasp.
âGonna-â you choke, muffled by your palms.
âDonât come,â he commands just as your eyes roll to the back of your head. whAT?!!Â
âFuck!â A sob tears from your throat because you were so close to that peak of euphoria and he just snatched it away with two words??
âWhat did I tell you about being quiet?â he growls, leaning away with angry eyes and saturated lips.
âPlease let me come,â you plead in a voice so shaky and meek and distraught.
âShut up first.â
âOkay, I will, I promise. Just please.â You sound breathless and pitiful, rooted in your carnal craving to please him so heâll give you everything you desire.
âBegging isnât gonna do you any good. You come when I say you can.â
Readying yourself, your entire body jolts when he returns to ravaging your puffy cunt, vision blurring as he roughly eats you out, tongue slathering your folds, lips sucking your hole, and teeth grazing your sensitive clit that sparks you like a wildfire.Â
âI canât-â you wheeze breathlessly because youâre losing control but you donât want him to take the edge away again.
âGo ahead,â he mumbles, lips encasing your bud and rapidly flicking his tongue over it to rip into the tight knot in your core and fireball you into oblivion. Your nails scrape the wood of his desk as you come, and you donât think you could make noise if you wanted to - all breath in your lungs depleted as his tongue works you through your dizzying waves. He leans away when you stop riding his face and you can finally breathe right again, blinking up at the ceiling as your vision goes back to normal.
While he sits back in his chair, you push yourself up on your elbows, looking at him in disbelief because holy fuck he really did that. And as he stares at you with a smirk, he wipes your slick off of his mouth and chin, and you have half a mind to do that for him. But he told you to keep your hands to yourself.
âStill want me to fuck you?â he asks, dropping his hands to his knees, legs spreading wide, giving you a good view of the bulge straining his black pants.
You nod, though your pussyâs aflame and you're still recovering from that orgasm that nearly gave you an aneurysm.
âYou got my mouth. You think you deserve my dick? Youâve been that good?â
âYeah,â you rasp. âYou havenât had to yell at me.â
âHm. And I guess you did a good job at being quiet.â
You keen at the praise, tips of your ears burning as you try not to break out into a beaming smile. He smirks, seeing right through you.
âBut can you even take it? You look so fucked out already.â
âI can. Iâll take anything you give me.â
He grins, way too proud. âWell, too bad. I donât have anything on me.â
And this is why you stay prepared. You reach into your bra and whip out a foil packet, holding it out to him between two fingers.
He takes it, stares at it, and then laughs. Gums on display as he looks between you and the condom, he full on laughs. But not in a ridiculing way.Â
âYouâre wild. You always keep these on hand like that?â
You shrug. âJust when I expect to get fucked.â
âAnd if you didnât see me tonight?â He looks down as he asks that so you canât see his expression. But you get the feeling that mentioning someone else affected him more than heâs letting on.
âJiminâs friend, remember?â
He hums. âYou wouldnât be satisfied."
Youâd tell him heâs full of himself if he wasnât so goddamn right.
âI wouldâve never even considered it if you didnât hold out on me this whole fucking time.â
The glare is back as his head snaps up again. âWatch your mouth.â
You force yourself to not roll your eyes. âHow âbout I use it to make up for last time?â
He cocks an inquisitive brow, and you answer by reaching for his belt, keeping your eyes locked on him as you scoot to the edge of his desk. You pull the leather strap out of the buckle, but before you can get to work on his zipper, he stops you with a firm grip on your wrists.
âYou wanna suck my dick or get fucked?â You droop, because of course youâd choose the latter over anything, but youâve been dreaming of taking him into your mouth, knowing what it feels like to have the weight of him on your tongue, for him to come down your throat or paint your face. But letâs not be hasty. One fantasy at a time.
You sit back on his desk and he grins, palms kneading your ass and pressing you forward and flush into his pelvis.
âThatâs what I thought.â He slowly grinds you into him, staring down at the way your jaw goes slack from the pleasure that sparks as your clit rubs on his heavy, clothed erection.
âFuck me, chef,â you breathlessly plead. âNeed it so bad.â
A pinch sits between his brows as he glances at your lips and your heart leaps to your throat when you think heâs about to kiss you, but he ducks his head and moves you off his desk to turn you around. Just like before. But this time, you get to listen to him unzipping his pants and dropping them, and your pussy clenches when he takes a hold of his hard, girthy cock that you want to taste and emits a soft growl-like purr.
You watch over your shoulder as he rucks his black tanktop up his abdomen, revealing the dark happy trail trickling beneath his belly button, and rips the foil open with his teeth, spitting out the loose corner as he pulls out the condom. He rolls it on and you stare, wide-eyed, as the rubber stretches around him. Heâs going to split you in half. Thighs shaking in desperation, your clit flutters when he spits into his hand and spreads it down his veiny shaft, then nudges his mushroom cockhead between your folds. Already, you see stars.
âYoongi, please!â You whisper yell as his tip just teases your hole and taps your clit.
His hand on your shoulder yanks you into the air, his dick sliding against your ass and chest brushing your back as he grits into your ear, âCalling me by my first name now, are we?â
âI-Iâm sorry.â
âYeah. Just donât let me catch you saying that outside of this office.â
You wouldnât dare. That would be a dead giveaway that youâve crossed the line of professionalism with your boss. Just before your mind can slip into an anxiety-ridden spiral of possible ramifications from people finding out, his cock breaches your entrance, hand squeezing your shoulder as he inches inside. You slap the wood from the wicked, mind-numbing stretch, but youâre wet enough that it doesnât burn too intensely, and you feel so full, so good by the time heâs all the way inside.
âGoddamn, so tight,â he hisses through his teeth, cock twitching as you purposely squeeze around him. He starts off rocking in and out, slow and steady, acclimating your cunt to his girth before he picks up the pace. He gives your ass a good crack and you collapse forward, chest smushing on his desk as you clench your fists to keep your moans at bay.
âLetâs see if you can still be good,â he mutters, a hint of smugness in his tone, and then starts fucking into you like he has nothing better to do. Your walls choke around him as he thrusts into you deep, and soon your mind is wiped free from all coherence as his hips slam against your ass to the point that your hips dig into the edge of his desk. Youâre already close and heâs just getting started.
But then a ringtone breaks the lewd silence and your eyes snap open because itâs coming from your phone. You plan to ignore it because how can you focus on anything other than your boss fucking you balls deep. But after a few more rings, he stills inside of you, reaches over, and drops your phone next to your face. You lift up, eyes rolling to the ceiling when you see the caller ID. Jimin would call you at a time like this.
âAnswer.â You lift a brow, silently asking if heâs serious, and he just nods, hands smoothing down your hips. You figure heâs putting you to the test as you tap the green button, because when you say âhello,â he slowly pulls out and rocks back in.Â
âGirl, where the hell are you?â Jimin yells into your ear, above the loud music in the background.
âUh, I got caught up.â
âWith what?â Shit, youâre not thinking clearly, not with his warm dick dragging in and out of you.
âI, um-â you pause to choke back a moan as he presses deep inside of you and stays there. âI donât feel good. I might have to rain check.â
âBoo, you whore.â
âIâm really sorry.â A voice belonging to Ty calls for Jimin and youâre silently grateful for his boyfriend taking him away from the call.
âYouâll make it up to me. Gotta go. Feel better, pookie.â He makes kissy noises into the receiver and hangs up. You drop your hand and your phone clatters on the desk, hiding your heating face because you really just talked to your best friend while getting fucked from behind. And it certainly doesnât help when the man leering down at you remarks,
âDamn, didnât think you were the type to ditch your friends âcuz you want dick.â
You shrug. âHeâs ditched me before, so.â
âHm.â
âMake it worth it, chef.â
âYou challenging me?â
You nod, and something dark and menacing flashes in his eyes. He manhandles you onto your back, roughly yanking up your legs and hitching them on his shoulders, forcing your feet to cross behind his neck. He spears his slick cock back into you without warning and just as your mouth falls to let out a shrill moan, his hand flies to cover it, fingers and thumb pressing into your cheekbones.
âMake one sound and itâs over. Understand?â You nod, even though you know itâs gonna break you.
âGonna fuck you dumb.â
The threat turns into a promise as he drills so vehemently that the walls of his office echo the nasty sounds of his hips clapping against yours, cock squelching in and out of your dripping cunt. You struggle to stay quiet, taking small gulps of air to suppress your moans and cries, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.
âChef, gonna come,â you hiccup under your breath. He slams into you once more before dropping your legs and bending them to hook against his waist, and your throat constricts when he falls forward, hands planted next to your hips.
âNot yet.â You feel yourself slide up the desk with each heavy, forceful clap of his hips as he starts up again, and you hesitantly reach up both hands, waiting for him to nod his permission to clasp them behind his neck. Your heart thumps that it brings him closer. Now that youâre holding on, he adjusts his stance to drive even deeper, harder, faster and you both watch his dick pound into you.
âS-So good,â you whisper, the tension in your belly close to snapping and exploding.
âYou take me so well,â he whispers back, and your cunt clenches at the praise. He grunts in the back of his throat and his syncopated pants and stuttering rhythm tell you heâs losing it. Good. Finally, you can both be on the same damn page.
âCome.â And you let go on command, orgasm tearing into you, and you duck your chin, eyes shutting hard enough that you see a void of nothingness with a smattering of colored stars, teeth piercing your bottom lip to prevent you from screaming. You taste copper as he fucks you through it, unfaltering as you gush and pulse and squeeze his cock that somehow gets harder with each thrust.
A cry is trapped in your chest when youâre overcome with an unfamiliar and overpowering sensation thatâs more intense than any orgasm youâve had before, and it splashes out of you, quelled by his dick mercilessly ravaging you.Â
âFuck,â he snarls, lips curling as your wetness drenches his pelvis. âDirty slut. Making a fucking mess in my office.â
You donât have the breath or the energy to apologize. But if he keeps fucking you at this rate, youâll blackout. Then his hips start to falter and his growls grow deeper and more frequent, and you sense that heâs close.
âYoongi,â you manage to whimper quietly and he grunts, loudly, pounds into you one, two, three times and falls on his forearms as he bows his head, nose brushing your cleavage, crown of his head tickling your chin. His dick convulses against your walls as he spills heftily into the condom, and fuck, thatâs enough to get you going again. He stays there for a minute, allowing you both to come down from your highs, and his face sinks into the center of your breasts, exhaling hard through his nose, warming your skin with his breath.
Your thighs shake uncontrollably, cunt fluttering from the aftershocks of your two - three? - orgasms and itâs then that he pushes up and straightens, holding onto your knees as he slowly pulls out. He says nothing and doesnât look at you when you let out a devastated whine.
He lowers your feet to the floor and you watch with tears in your eyes as he snaps the condom off his softening dick, ties it up and discards it in the trash can beside his desk. You frown when he bends down to pull up his pants and tuck himself away, underwear covering the sheen on his skin thatâs not from sweat. Although your back is strained from your legs being down, you continue to lay there and fight your body from passing out.
âSit up,â he mutters, and you can barely crack your eyes open, stuck together with drying tears and youâre enticed to fall asleep. But then a brawny hand wraps around your bicep, another on your shoulder, and youâre pulled into a sitting position. Now that youâre upright, your head spins and vision blanks and a buzzing echoes in your ears as you barely register his deep voice telling you your lip is bleeding.
Youâre so dazed that you hardly notice the sheet of tissue shoved into your hands, and you just limply hold it in your lap. You blink up in confusion for a few seconds before he grabs the back of your hand and brings it up to your mouth. His brows are knitted as he forces you to dab the tissue on your lip, and your brain is too muddled to offer him a thanks as he snatches the red dotted sheet away, and tosses it in the trash.
Youâre too busy staring at the wall to notice him bend down, grab something off the floor, and shove it in his pocket before he holds up your lace stockings. It takes you until you get in the shower at home to realize your thong is missing.
âGet dressed.â He has to shake your tights in front of your face to zone you back in. âCome on, Iâm not gonna do it for you.â
You take a while to carefully roll the lace back on, and in the meantime, he steps away and begins tapping at something on his phone.
âHow are you getting home?â He asks once you have both your heels on.
âCab,â you respond, attempting to not wonder too much about who heâs texting as his thumbs fly across his screen. Your heart jumps when he leans behind you to grab your phone, his cologne hitting you again, but now mixed with the subtle musk of sex.
âCall it.â
The two of you focus on your phones in silence, and you wait for the atmosphere between to become awkward, uncomfortable, but it just stills. Thereâs no tension, just quiet, but itâs killing you, because you always get chatty after sex. But Chef Min doesnât seem like the type, so you keep your mouth shut and instead just stare at the information of the arrival of your driver.
âItâs almost here,â you say, clutching your phone as he glances over at you and nods. As you stand on shaky legs and start wobbling towards the door, he moves in front of his desk, grabs a briefcase from underneath, and heads towards you.
âYouâre coming?â you ask, unable to help your surprise.
âI have to lock up. No oneâs here, I checked.â
So thatâs what he was doing on his phone? You hesitate before stepping foot over the threshold, and point up to the ceiling in the hall, at the cameras pointing right down at you.
âAre the-â
âI turned them off. Iâll delete the footage of you coming in.â
Youâre assured enough to stride out of his office, and you try your best to walk steadily on your aching legs, but your chunky heels make it less of a feat. The soft click of his door resounds in the hall, and he walks a ways behind you, and you pretend that heâs walking you out to make sure you get in the cab safely. Itâs a nice feeling. The restaurant is dark as you walk into the front, but a section of lights leading up to the door switch on, and heâs still straying behind you, back on his phone. You stop at the door, breath fogging up the glass as you stare out at the cab waiting with its blinkers on. You glance behind you and he stops a few feet short, pulling out a set of keys from his pocket, and looks up at you. His expression is back to being flat and blank and that's what makes you reach out for the handle.
âUm, thanks?â you say, feeling awkward now but immediately regretting opening your mouth because who thanks someone for sex?
He rolls his eyes, but from the dim light shining above, you catch a small smile toying on his lips. Must be your imagination.
âHave a good night.â You already did. But you fear thatâs going to stop once you leave.
You push past the door, not looking back until youâve slid into the car. Heâs still standing at the door, and he remains there with his hands in his pockets until youâve driven out of the parking lot.
Youâre already set on giving the driver five stars because he doesnât say a single word during the ride. Head against the window, you close your eyes and run a replay of what the fuck just happened through your mind and you know youâre about to get the best sleep of your life. But that all changes when your phone lights up with two texts from Jimin that make you nauseous with paranoia.
11:44pm Hubby: Why do I feel like youâre not sick?
11:44pm Hubby: If youâre doing what I think youâre doingâŠ
Oh, fuck!
.
.
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part 3 >>>
thanks for reading!! sorry I got a little carried away with the smut lololol pls drop a comment/reblog/ask if you enjoyed <333 also lmk if you have any theories/predictions for where this story is headed!!
part 1. come into my office - series masterlist
pairing: executive chef!yoongi x f!cook!reader
genre: pwp, age gap
rating: explicit content, MDNI!!!!!!!
summary: you're a perfectionist at work, and you rarely make mistakes. but you start to once you realize you like it when chef min yells at you. hopefully, you don't lose your job. you'll find out, when he calls you into his office one night.
warnings/tags: i may watch too much gordon ramsey, ummmm this is kinda kinky? and filthy but on a scale from 1 to hook line & stinker i'd say it's about a 5.5, i made myself blush tho lol, yoongi is her boss so there's a power imbalance but he's a consent king (as always), it escalates p fast, pussy slapping, spanking, fingering, mildly degrading language, degradation kink, edging, orgasm denial
wc: 4.2k
notes: I've been off all week bc of a snowstorm (i work in a school. rip my paycheck) and i took the free time to write this absolute nonsense lol i hope it's good. I finished and posted on a whim, so it's not thoroughly proofread. And a big thanks to Aqua for yapping with me about this đ«¶đ«¶đ«¶
âWho the fuck closed last night?!â
The boom of Chef Minâs voice as he storms into the kitchen shakes the walls around you. Everyone freezes, including you. Busted. But you knew it was coming.
âI did, chef,â you say, stepping away from the steel table you were wiping down and into view of the steaming face of Min Yoongi. He strides towards you holding a container covered by saran wrap that he slams onto the counter, startling you.
âYou didnât label the stock? Are you fucking dumb?â
No, indeed youâre not. Before you left last night, you checked off the entire tasklist knowing damn well you didnât mark the freshly wrapped ingredients. Because the first thing that Chef Min does when he comes into the restaurant after being gone for a few days is check inventory. And if anything is missing, out of place, or just plain not up to his standards, he flips his lid. No one makes these kinds of mistakes because no one wants to be yelled at and talked down to by the executive chef.
But you do.
You keep your head down as he steps right in front of you. Under his harsh glare that sears right through your skin, you tremble, but not from fear or intimidation.
âHow long have you been working at my restaurant?â
You gulp, staring at your feet. His voice is so deep and low and angry and youâre getting chills and-
âLook at me when Iâm talking to you!â
Your head snaps up obediently, heat flushing from your cheeks to your ears from the insane darkness in his glare. Heâs pissed.Â
âAnswer my question,â he growls. Your legs quake.
âIâve been here for eight months.â
âYeah, youâd think by now you know how I fucking run things around here.â
âI do, chef. I just made a mistake, Iâm sorry.â
âYouâre going to be.â How can a threat sound so good? âTonight, youâll stay late to check inventory and make sure everything in the pantry and walk-in is labeled and dated. And then youâre going to roll every single piece of silverware in this place. Is that clear?â
âYes, chef.â
He turns around without another word.
The rest of the night goes by without a hitch. Itâs busy as it always is and you run around like a hamster on acid like you always do, firing up orders and sending them out in expert time. Occasionally, Chef Min passes behind you, just hovering as you maneuver around your work station. You wonât fuck up on purpose now, lest you put your job at stake. But as the end of your shift looms closer, so does the notion that you may have already done that. Because now heâs watching your every move, just waiting for any tiny mistake. So you donât make a single one and you donât check to make sure he sees that.
The last table leaves around 11 and your colleagues slowly filter out after they finish up with their tasks. Youâre absolutely exhausted by the time you complete your prep work and clean up your station, but now you have to label and date all of the stock. After you get a sharpie and a roll of tape and head into the pantry, Jimin, your work bestie, swings by with his apron over his shoulder.
âHey, good luck tonight,â he says with a supportive smile.
You nod, sighing out some overstimulation. âI might need it.â
âI honestly donât know how youâre not fired.â You pause. Thatâs not what you need to hear right now.
âThanks, Jimin,â you respond dryly.
âI mean, Chef Min takes things so seriously, Iâm just kind of surprised heâs kept you on.â
âI was late like one time and forgot about labeling last night," you defend, even though it's weak.
âDonât forget that time you diced the onions instead of chopping them.â
Oh, yeah. That was a few months ago and Chef Min chewed you out for a good five minutes. You went home that night and dreamt that he took you right there on the counter.
âHe must think youâre too talented that itâs not worth it to let you go. Just be careful you donât take advantage of that.â
âI wonât.â
âGood. Iâd hate to lose my work wife.â
âHow does Ty feel about you calling me your work wife?â you tease, knowing his boyfriend is waiting outside to pick him up.
âHe doesnât know,â he says, blowing you a kiss and twirling around with a finger heart held in the air. You shake your head endearingly.
âBye!â you call after him.
âBye!â
Soon after, the alley door slams shut and the kitchen becomes eerily quiet now that youâre left completely alone. The faster you get this done, the faster you get out of here. Even though you shouldnât, you hope you run into Chef Min.
Itâs a known fact that he rarely fires people since he tactically chooses each member of his staff, doing thorough background and skill checks to ensure everyone is capable of carrying out his high expectations. Which is why the âmistakesâ you make are small and generally insignificant, but knowing that Chef Min is a detail-oriented perfectionist, heâs bound to notice anything out of place. So thatâs why you toe the line.
Halfway through, youâre startled by the clanking of metal and the sharp hiss and crackle of hot oil. Holding your breath, you poke your head out of the stock room, and Chef Min is standing in front of the counter, chopping up various vegetables and moving them into the pan. You watch for a moment, fascinated by this rare sight of him cooking. He uses the kitchen behind-the-scenes to experiment and test new items for the menu, but the way he cooks with such smooth expertise fills you with envy. You probably shouldnât get caught just staring at him so you focus back on your work.
Your neck has several cricks in it when you finally move onto the silverware, and the ache in your feet has started to radiate up to your calves, but you canât sit down until youâre done. Thatâs until you spot a ceramicâcovered plate placed right next to the bin of clean and polished silverware, accompanied by a bottle of water. Did Chef Min⊠cook for you? You glance around the empty kitchen. Thereâs no sign that he was ever in here making a meal - no dishes in the sink or on the drying rack, and the counter and stove are as pristine as ever. Your mouth waters as you lift the cover and your senses are flooded with a deliciously savory smell. As youâre about to grab a fork, you notice a plastic one already waiting on a paper napkin. Your heart flutters at the gesture.
Because the floor is clean enough to lick, you plop down and force yourself not to inhale his food. The flavors melt on your tongue and you groan as every muscle in your body relaxes. The connoisseur in you wants to whip out your phone and jot down notes of the ingredients, but you donât want to stop eating. The food disappears all too quickly and youâre sad as you stare down at your cleared plate. Oh well, time to finish up.
Luckily, you get through it in a breeze - rolling silverware is second nature to you now, you bet you could do this in your sleep. Knife and fork tucked together, rolled tightly and neatly in an ironed, cloth napkin, and secured in the black, crisp paper band etched with the logo of Chef Minâs two-Michelin star restaurant.Â
By the time you finish, itâs nearing midnight and he hasnât come back out of his office. Your bones are screaming for you to leave but you want to be assured that youâre not in the dog house with him. Youâre definitely not stalling when you return to the stock room to recheck each container for its precisely placed and clearly written label. You catch movement in the doorway and almost jump out of your skin when itâs Chef Min whoâs standing there, chef coat unbuttoned to reveal a white, untucked t-shirt underneath. He crosses his veiny, muscular forearms and you turn away before you can salivate.
âAre you almost done? Iâd like to go home.â His tone is gruff and impatient, and you scramble to stand, quickly smoothing down your uniform.
âIâm finished. I was just making sure that I didnât miss anything.â
âIâll check the silverware.â He swivels on his heel and you donât know if thatâs an invitation to follow, so you slowly exit the stockroom and keep your distance as he stops by the station where you meticulously stacked all the rolls.
âWho helped you?â he asks, picking up a pair and inspecting the napkin. You swallow. You may make mistakes, but you never cheat.
âNo one, chef.â He stares at the silverware for another moment, and you closely observe his erratic blinks and the small downturn on the corner of his mouth. You rolled every single one of those perfectly, and you know that thereâs no problem. So the lack of expression on his face makes you queasy. Your spine straightens when he sets down the roll and sharply turns towards you.
âCome with me to my office.â Your hands grow clammy, a churning in your gut now that you anticipate you mightâve fucked up for the last time. Heâs never talked to you in his office, so maybe heâs finally going to let you have it.
âOh, let me wash my plate first.â
âDonât worry about it,â he grumbles as he passes by without looking at you. So you dutifully trail after him, though youâre somewhat shocked that heâs giving you a pass.
He goes in first, and as you enter with your hands nervously clasped, heâs holding onto the edge of the door, eyes still narrowed in a frown.
âSit,â he says sternly, and your stomach churns as you take tentative steps towards his desk to take a seat opposite his large desk chair. His office is small and keenly organized, nothing out of place or in disarray, as you would expect of Chef Min. The walls are littered with framed degrees, magazine covers and newspaper clippings of his accolades from when he was an up-and-coming culinary artiste and now as the owner of a critically acclaimed restaurant. Reasons why youâve sought out working here. And now as you sit in his office, you start to regret ever putting your job and your reputation at risk simply because it⊠entices you when he yells. But you can't help it.
âI canât figure you out,â his voice jolts you out of your rapidly spiraling thoughts and you sit up straight as he walks up behind you.
âWhat do you mean, chef?â you ask, keeping a neutral tone even though youâre close to tears. He rounds your chair and faces you, leaning on the corner of his desk, arms crossed as he peers down at you.
âI see the good work you do, how tenacious you are. Youâre very thorough with prep, you follow my recipes down to a perfect detail, and when Iâm not here, I never hear any complaints about you from my sous.â
You bow your head, pinching your thumb so you donât squirm in the chair. In all the years youâve worked at high-end restaurants, through all the toil and extreme pressure, not once have you received a compliment. Especially not from an executive chef. And you never dreamed of hearing one from Min Yoongi.
âSo how come when I am here, you manage to slip up so many times? And in ways that Iâll definitely notice? You think Iâm attracted to incompetence?â
The way he grits that last part has your attention snapping up, and youâre met with that glare again. âNo, chef.â
âThen why do you keep fucking shit up around me?â
You falter, a tight knot of reckoning lodging in your throat making it impossible to look at him. What the fuck are you supposed to say? Youâve always been the type of person to think ahead, to prepare for the million ways each decision and choice you make could pan out. Yet here you are, being confronted by the man you go to sleep at night thinking of about why you make stupid little mistakes to piss him off? Youâre suddenly at a loss when you know the exact reason and youâre pushed incredibly off kilter. So you say nothing.
âYou know what I think?â You slowly turn your cheek, because the change in his tone, softer yet darker, commands you to look at him.
âThat you like it.â You freeze, eyes widening like a deer in headlights. Youâre screwed - so, so screwed.
âWhat?â you blurt on a half-bated breath. A small uptick grows on the corner of his mouth.
âWhen I yell at you.â
Your heart and mind races because - itâs taken him this long to catch on but heâs actually caught on???Â
âHm, I hit the nail on the head, didnât I? Why else would you make such dumb little mistakes? I know you're not actually dumb.â He tilts his head, very clearly smirking, seeming to find amusement in your shock.
âIâm sorry,â you whoosh, pulse skyrocketing.
He chuckles. âDonât apologize now.â
What the fuck else are you supposed to say?? He then steals your breath and catapults your heart into a frenzy when he leans down, grabs the arms of your chair, and turns you towards him to get right in your face.
âSo, what do you want? A punishment?â He asks this while gazing deep into your eyes, his own hooded and dark and devoid of irritation. You catch the flick down to your lips and your chest spasms.
âI want what you think I deserve,â you say, a tremor in your voice because that could mean anything.
âAnd just how should I go about doing that?â
âIâll take anything.â He shakes his head but remains in your face.Â
âTell me what you want or leave.â How can you say it out loud? Now that youâre faced with the opportunity, youâre cowering? Since when are you a fucking coward. This is what you wanted. Donât give it up.
But you need a moment to breathe. Looking over your shoulder, you notice the door is still open and as you face him again, heâs already leaning away. Wordlessly, you stand and head for the door, and he just as quietly begins retreating to his side of the desk. You grab the knob and slowly push the door closed, turning the lock with a resounding click.Â
You take a deep breath. Here goes everything.
âAnd if I want you to fuck me?â The silence that fills his office wraps a growing tangle of morbid anticipation in your gut. You tentatively look his way and your lungs inflate when heâs staring at you, amusement etched into the smile he rubs over with his beautiful, veiny hand.
âAll you have to do is say so.â Oh, thank god. But what the fuck? That is certainly not the answer you expected and it shoots heat between your legs.
âI didnât think you were interested, chef,â you say coolly.
He scoffs. âYou think I wouldâve put up with your bullshit for this long if I wasnât interested?â
A sudden surge of confidence rolls back your shoulders. âThen all you had to do was say so.â
His eyebrow cocks, smirk falling. âOh, getting smart with me now?â
âNo, chef,â you say in a sweet voice as you fully turn around, coyly batting your lashes. His eyes narrow.
âCome here.â Breath shaking with excitement, you heed his command and once again walk towards his desk, but at a normal pace lest you seem too eager. He pushes his chair away from the edge and gestures for you to stand beside him. You stop at the corner, impatiently waiting for his next instruction. Your hands are shaking as you fight off a smile because itâs finally happening. You hope youâre not fucking dreaming.
âCloser.â He ushers you over to stand directly in front of him and you gasp when he lightly slaps your ass without warning, and the surprise of it makes you jolt forward.
âBend over,â he orders in a deep grumble, and you await another smack as you lean forward, palms planting flat on his desk.
âWhat should I do with you?â he asks, probably rhetorically as he trails his fingers along the hem of your black chefâs coat. You arch your back, presenting yourself.
âLike I said, anything you want.â He says nothing and refrains from making another move. That knot in your throat returns because is he having regrets?
âShould I take off my pants?â
âIf you want.â
âBut do you want it?â you snap over your shoulder, at him just vacantly staring at your lower region, an unreadable stitch between his brows.
âYes.â The knot dissipates. âBut you should know that you can change your mind and I wonât hold it against you.â
His assurance makes you feel 1,000 times more confident. âChef, the last thing Iâm going to do is change my mind.â
He hums and further spreads his legs, clasping his hands in his lap as if waiting for you to carry on. Facing forward again, you thank god that he canât see your stupid ass grin as you unbutton, unzip, and push down your uniform slacks, biting your lip as the cool air breathes across your bare ass. Fuck, you canât wait to see what heâs going to do with you.
âDamn,â he mutters, and you wonder if he meant it out loud, but he still doesnât touch you. Is he going to make you beg? Youâre pathetic enough, youâll do so gladly.
But then you hear his chair scoot back and a sharp slap rings out as his hand makes hard contact with your cheek, and you bite back a moan at the sting. He smoothes over the sting on your cheek that will definitely still be there tomorrow before landing another smack on the same spot, coaxing out another moan that you canât hold back.
âKnew youâd like this,â he correctly observes.
âI-I do, chef,â you stutter, arousal soaking through your panties and dampening your inner thighs. He hums and cups a handful of your cheek, pushing you forward until your hips dig into the edge of his desk and youâre more parallel with the surface.
âPlease touch me,â you beg in a desperate whisper, biting your lip when his thumb skims under your panties and stops just beside your hole.
âHoly shit, youâre soaked,â he mumbles in a register deeper than youâve ever heard. âHow long have you been this wet for me?â
âAll night.â
He hums and slips two fingers between your folds, spreading your lips apart. You buck, struggling to keep it together.
âI bet itâs been longer.â Damn, heâs right. Before he stood inches away from you and looked and spoke down to you. When he just walked through the door in his ironed white chefâs coat and slacks, dark red hair perfectly styled off his forehead, side burns giving a peek into his undercut. Heâs so hot itâs not fair. Out of nowhere, he gives your sensitive clit a firm tap and you briefly see stars, gasping as euphoric stimulation simmers up to your lower belly. He repeats it with added pressure and prolongment and you fall onto your elbows, breasts smushing into the wood, chafing your pert nipples.
âThis is what you like, huh? Rough?â
You garble out a barely coherent âUh-huh.â
âYouâre such a filthy, naughty girl.â You have no fucking idea. Before you get a chance to realize you said that out loud, you hear a thud against the wall that you imagine comes from his chair, and then his hand lands on your mound⊠hard. Hard enough that it leaves a lasting sting, propelling a shockwave through your entire body. The only sound you emit is a gasp. That feels way too fucking good.
He does it again, and the weight of his palm slamming against your clit has your knees and ankles buckling.
âOh-Oh fuck!â You moan, teeth digging into your bottom lip because if he fucking does that again, you just might-
For a third time, he grabs the inside of your thigh and tugs at your skin right before the smack. You cry out, the pain on your clit snapping apart the intense coil in your core and you see white as pleasure overwhelms your conscience.
You moan and twitch as your cunt pulses around nothing, and you squeeze your eyes and mouth shut because what the fuck youâve never come this quick before and from next to nothing.
âDid you just come from me slapping your pussy?â He asks, astounded and for a split second youâre embarrassed. But then he chuckles.
âYouâre so pathetic, itâs cute.â
You whimper, hoping heâs not going to stop there because youâre nowhere near gratified. Just as your tongue moves to ask if thatâs it, he inserts a slender finger and it glides in smoothly.
âSo fucking wet,â he hisses, and the wood smothers your groan as he adds another finger and slowly fucks them in and out, palm nudging your clit.
âFaster,â you plead, the warmth already pooling in your gut telling you it wonât take long to reach your peak again.
âWho are you to give me orders?â he snaps, and you cry out when he pulls his hand away, leaving you devastatingly empty.
âNo, Iâm sorry!â He just humphs, like he doesnât believe you.
âYou gonna stop being a pain in my ass?â
âMm-mm,â you hum defiantly. Stupidly. He clicks his tongue.
âNot a good answer.â You open your mouth to retract but your lungs constrict as his digits plunge into you again, bottom of his hand slamming against the center of your ass, and vigorously dig and curl against your patch of pleasure.
You bite back screams when over and over and over again, he curves and fucks his fingers into you, coaxing you to the brink of release and then dismantling it just before you crash.
âPlease!â You beg after your orgasm is snatched away for the fourth time. Tears spill onto the desk, smearing all down your cheek. âPlease I canât take it!â
âThen answer correctly. Are you going to stop fucking up in my restaurant?â
âYes!â you wail, nails digging into the mahogany and you might have to pay for damages.
âLouder.â
âYes!â
âYes, what?â The growl in his voice gnaws at your spine.
âYes, chef!â
âGood girl.â
He presses his free hand onto your lower back so youâre rendered immobile and slams his fingers into your cunt, right on your spot, and finally works you through your orgasm. You let out an elongated moan as a powerful wave stuns you and uncontrollable shakes swim up and down your legs. Your ears ring from how harshly you were clenching your teeth, but you still register his low and satisfied hum as you squeeze around his fingers. More tears fall when he slips out and leaves you to recover, plopping back in his chair and your cheeks flare with heat when you imagine him just staring and smirking at the mess he made.
As you start to breathe normally, the opening and closing of a drawer vibrates the desk beneath you. You melt like warmed butter when a soft napkin caresses the insides of your thighs to dry them.
You look over your shoulder when he starts pulling up your panties. âWait, youâre not gonna-â
He shakes his head, shucking up your slacks and covering your ass. âWhen you start behaving, weâll get around to that.â
Disappointment floods you, especially when you glance down to the tented evidence of his erection.
âWhat about you?â
His eyes flicker to you and he gives another subtle shake of his head. âGo home and sleep. Iâll see you tomorrow.â
Your bottom lip juts out in a pout but you wonât argue. At least thereâs a tomorrow. You push yourself up and turn around to sit on the edge, now standing in between his widespread legs as you zip up your pants. You make a severe effort to not look at his crotch again. Fuck, you feel like you're being kicked to the curb.
âYou cooked for me earlier,â you blurt. Stalling. Again.
He stills, then shrugs as he responds. âCanât have you passing out on me. Itâs a liability.â Like you didnât scarf down food that you threw together on your break. Like he doesnât know about that.
âI know I donât have to tell you that it was really good.â
A grin filled with pride spreads onto his pretty, pink lips. Fuck, you want to know what they feel like against your own.
âJust one of the new recipes Iâm trying out for the menu.â
âWell, if you need a taste tester, Iâm your girl.â
âIâll keep that in mind.â
You simply stare at each other for a moment and your heart rate intensifies. This is the first time heâs looked at you without hostility and anger in his eyes. It fills you with a warmth that youâre not used to. And you greedily want more of it.
âI guess Iâll get going,â you crack the silence before it gets overheated. You sidestep him, ignoring the ache and pull to close the distance and kiss him. Tomorrow. You still have tomorrow.
âDrive safe,â he says as he follows you to the door. You swivel around to have the last word.
âNight, chef.â
He nods, holds his small smile and your gaze for a lingering second and then closes the door.
For once, you donât spend the drive home wondering just what you can do next to piss him off.
Youâll show him just how good you can be.
.
.
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part 2 ->
thanks so much for reading!! i know that was a bit wild but hope you enjoyed. i'm a little nervous about this bc it's been a while since i've written smut so let me know what you think!! (pls be nice im just a girl)
Summary: Your bi-weekly movie nights with Taehyung had always been the safest part of your life, until the night a forgotten promise dragged you both to a housewarming party instead. What should have been just another evening between best friends slowly unravels when a single mandarin and one honest confession shift the air between you. After so many years of pretending nothing has changed, one night might be all it takes to finally peel back the layers.
Genre: Non idol au, smut with some plot, best friends to lovers.
Warnings: Taehyung has a praise kink and heâs so in love.  This story came to me in a dream, so if it's a little crazy, just go with it!
WC: 13k
You were never the type of person to change plans on such short notice, especially not when it came to your hang outs with Taehyung. When both of your grown up jobs and separate social circles kept you busy and apart, your bi-weekly meet-ups were precious for the both of you.Â
But you just could not escape tonight.Â
Tae had been your best friend for longer than you could remember, starting somewhere when you were both still in high school and he made fun of your fruit-shaped erasers. Back then he hadnât been as careful with his words and his comment about your tangerine-looking school supply had embarrassed you, and you replaced the orange thing with a regular, boring blue and red eraser that smelled of nothing but rubber.Â
Heâd still been sensitive enough to notice the change, and the very next day you came into the classroom to find a brand new grape-scented gel pen and a notepad with strawberry prints. Not to mention the brand new deskmate in the form of a bowl-cut teenager Tae.Â
Heâd been handsome and charming even then, but nothing compared to the thirty year old version of him which now sat next to you inside his car.Â
âWe don't have to stay long, I swear.â you told him from the passengerâs seat, more than a little guilty for making you both miss the movie tonight. âI really forgot I promised May I'd come tonight.â
âBabe, it's fine.â Taehyung chuckled under his breath, following the GPS and taking a smooth right turn. âI didnât complain once about this.âÂ
âI know. You never complain.â which somehow made you feel worse.Â
âAs long as we get to hang out, I don't care.â he shrugged, carefree and gentle as always.Â
âOkay.â
âJust relax.â he laughed again, placing his warm palm on your thigh, which did the opposite of relaxing you. âIs this the house?â
You pointed to the next house over through the windshield. âIt's the next one, but we can park here and walk up.âÂ
You could already see a few cars that you knew belonged to your friends and their friends, in front of Mayâs newly acquired home. Taehyung saw the same parking spot you had noticed and used one hand to parallel park in a way that shouldnât be as attractive as it was.Â
You even had to distract yourself by checking the road, trying to keep busy and useful, with little hints of âa little more to the rightâ and ânow two inches aheadâ, which he absolutely did not need. But you needed it, because focusing on how his biceps bulged every time he maneuvered and noticing the veins of his forearm would do very little for your mental health right now.Â
âCan you reach the flowers in the back?â Taehyung asked as he turned off the engine of the car.Â
âI think so.â you unbuckled your seatbelt.Â
As you reached through the space between your seat and the driverâs, carefully reaching for the pretty flowers you bought to bring tonight, Taehyung got out of the car and ran to your side to open the door for you. And you knew him long enough to know heâd planned for this.
âAnd they say chivalry is dead.â you mused, letting him help you hop off with a familiar hand at your waist. Â
ââTheyâ sound dumb.â Taehyung grinned, proud of himself.Â
You let him take the flowers from you, just so you could fix your dress that had moved up during the ride and the hop; it was still a nice dress that didnât uncover much of your skin if you were standing. Definitely not âmovies appropriateâ, but perfect for a housewarming party such as this one.Â
May had promised you that it wouldnât be a party at all, but a get together so she could show off her new place to her closest friends. Which definitely included you, but maybe not your plus one.Â
Even if the man himself looked sinful in simple blue jeans, a white shirt and red jacket with fun patches you knew heâd ironed in during a moment of fashion boredom. It also didnât help your case that heâd styled his hair tonight in messy little waves that sat away from his forehead, when you told him once this week that you liked that look on him.Â
The walk from the car to the right house was a short one, not enough for your feet to hurt in your heels, and much less for you to get lost, but Taehyung still stood next to you like you were about to get too far away from him.Â
âDo you think we need to knock?â you asked once you reached the front door, hearing laughs and music from the inside.Â
âIt's your friend's housewarming, you tell me.â he said, handing you the flowers so you could be the one to deliver them.Â
âI think we're good.â you decided.Â
You turned the doorknob, finding it unlocked, and let yourself and Taehyung in. The small mountain of shoes at the entrance told you this was a no-shoes new house, and you were thankful for taking off your heels before your feet started to hurt too much. Taehyung was taking off his red sneakers when you heard a squeal.Â
âThere she is!â May showed up at the entrance of the living room, looking gorgeous with a pink dress that looked like a cloud.Â
âWas âcotton candyâ the theme for tonight?â you laughed, rushing to meet her and offer her a hug. Â
âThe theme is âthis is my new house and Iâll wear whatever the fuck I wantâ.â she shrugged, taking the flowers with the biggest smile. âYou brought me flowers!â
âYour real gift is being delivered later this week.â you told her, as if flowers werenât an appropriate gift for an achievement like this.Â
May was about to wave you off, to tell you not to worry, but then she saw something over your shoulder, which made her jaw drop. At least she had the common sense to whisper her next question: âYou brought Taehyung?âÂ
âIs that okay?â you asked, even if you already knew the answer.Â
âJust don't drool on my new carpet.â she teased, pushing past you to hug your friend. âHey, Taetae, long time, huh? Feel right at home!âÂ
âThanks, May-ssi.â Taehyung hugged her back, but his hands still looked for the spaces on her body that were covered by her dress. âI like what you did with the place.âÂ
âYou should see upstairs.â she winked, walking ahead and leading the two of you to where the others were hanging out. Â
âSeriously, the spare room is going to see me more often than my boyfriend's couch.â Jimin was sitting on the arm of a chair he was sharing with Seokjin; both men were your friends you met in college. Â
âIf it has a bed, then it definitely should.â you snorted, wondering which âboyfriendâ Jimin meant this time. You hoped it was Hoseok, but the couch mentioned made you guess it was probably Jungkook. âDid we miss the tour?â
âJust the first round, I'll take you around later.â May explained, grabbing you by the wrist and waving Jimin to follow. âWe're about to make margaritas in my new blender.âÂ
âOh, nice.â
You didnât feel like separating from Taehyung right now, especially when you knew heâd be the odd man out; even if heâd already been introduced to everyone in the house at least once before and he was the social butterfly out of the two of you. You only let May and Jimin lead you away because Namjoon was already getting up to greet Taehyung in that little half-hug, half-pat on the back that boys do when they are pretending to be more familiar than they actually are.Â
The kitchen was definitely a feature area in the house, just a little ahead from the living room, but still close enough that you could see everything. It was much bigger than Mayâs old one, and everything looked brand new. It made you really proud of the girl, when you knew she had been saving for years after living in a shoe-box apartment so she could splurge like this.Â
âWow, you even have a kitchen island!â you gushed, knowing it had been one of the deal makers for her to get this place.Â
âI knoooow, sheâs my baby!â May caressed the island with light hands, as if a harsher touch could actually scratch the marble.Â
âSheâs very pretty.â you entered the kitchen to help out making the drinks.Â
May immediately claimed the spot in front of the blender like a mother hen, peeling the plastic off one last button you hadnât even noticed still had a corner lifting, while Jimin laughed and reached for the bag of ice on the counter.Â
You grabbed the limes and started cutting them in halves with the help of a cutting board, the clean citrus smell mixing with the sharp bite of tequila the second May twisted the cap open.
âSo you brought Tae, huh?â Jimin didnât take long enough to bring it up.Â
âHe's my best friend, it's not weird.â you justified, watching Jimin steal one of the lime wedges only to wince when the juice hit his tongue straight.
âI'm your best friend.â May corrected, spreading salt on a small plate and the ice was dumped into the pitcher.
You rolled your eyes. âHe's my boy best friend.â
âPress her once more and she'll use the right word.â Jimin told May with a wiggle of his eyebrows.Â
âStop, it's not like that.â you grumbled, looking out to the living room to make sure no one outside the kitchen was listening.Â
âYou want it to be.â May said, and you had no arguments for her when she knew too much. âI'm just saying bringing him here tonight is a couplely move.â
âThere are plenty of single people here.â you wiped your fingers on a paper towel, passed May the last lime half, and stepped closer when she started adding everything in, all three of you crowding around the blender.
âLooking to hook up with other single people.â May was not only the owner of a new house, but of very good points as well, it seemed. âJust ask Alyssa.â
You wish the mention of the girlâs name didnât hit you square in the chest like it did. Itâs not like you had anything against her, not really⊠She had been nothing but nice to you ever since you met, the kind of girl that lights up rooms and people write songs about. But sheâd also had her eyes on Taehyung every time you brought him around.Â
âAlyssa is here?â you asked again, because you hadnât seen her when you first came in.Â
âWorried?â Jimin asked, already knowing the answer when your shoulders dropped.Â
You turned around before you could stop yourself, eyes crossing the open space of the living room until they found Taehyung near the wall, one shoulder tipped back against it like he had settled there for only a second and somehow gotten stuck.Â
Alyssa stood close enough that it made something in your stomach pull tight, her hand brushing his arm when she laughed, head tilted just a little too prettily, the whole thing carrying that soft, easy kind of flirting girls like her never had to force. Taehyung laughed too, looking down at her with that warm attention that always did dangerous things to your insides, and even from the kitchen you could see how comfortable he looked standing there with her, how natural it seemed, and the sight hit in one clean, ugly wave that sat hot and heavy under your ribs.
May slid the blender pitcher closer to the line of cups and announced that the margaritas were done, Jimin already reaching to help pass glasses around just as Seokjin and Namjoon drifted into the kitchen like they had followed the sound of people having a better time somewhere else.Â
There was no big call for everyone to move, no moment made out of it, just the easy shuffle of people grabbing their drinks and heading toward the patio together, talking over one another on the way out.Â
You turned on instinct, your own drink already in your hand, ready to ask Taehyung if he wanted to come with you, but stopped when you caught Alyssa handing Taehyung's phone back to him, as if heâd just typed something on it. The thought landed quietly, not sharp enough to make you angry, only enough to make you step back from calling to your best friend.Â
Because if something was happening there, if they wanted to keep talking, then you were not about to get in the middle of it.
The backyard looked just as new as the rest of the house, a clean stone patio stretched out from the back doors, stepping down into a small square of trimmed grass bordered by dark rocks and carefully placed shrubs.Â
Off to one side, May had already set up a couple of outdoor couches with cream cushions that still looked too untouched, like nobody had fully broken them in yet, while a few lawn chairs were scattered around in a loose circle as if people had started claiming spots before the party even properly settled. There were tall planters near the fence, soft garden lights fixed low along the edges.
You ended up dropping into the space between Jimin and Seokjin on one of the couches, tucking one leg under yourself as you brought the margarita to your mouth for another careful sip. It had way too much tequila for your taste, the kind that burned first and tasted like lime second, so you took it slow and let the cold glass rest against your thigh between sips.
âToo strong?â Jimin asked, one look at your face giving you away.
âMay still makes drinks like she was trying to disinfect us from the inside out.â you swallowed and gave the drink a suspicious look.
âThat means itâs a good drink.â Seokjin let out a laugh into his own cup.Â
âNo, it meant she lost count halfway through pouring.â you corrected with a little grimace.
âSame thing.â Jin said with a shrug.Â
Jimin leaned forward, whispering conspiratorily: âGive it ten minutes and Namjoon is going to start talking about real estate like he personally helped build the house.â
âI heard thatââ Namjoon huffed from one of the lawn chairs where he was lounging.
âI wasnât hiding it from you.â Jimin shot back.
You smiled into your glass, shoulders loosening a little as Seokjin bumped his knee lightly against yours.
âRemember her old apartment?â Seokjin asked.
âI still have nightmares about that bathroom.â Jimin made a face immediately. âYou could brush your teeth while sitting on the toilet.â
âThat was an efficient design!â you said, a little defensive even despite your laughs. That bathroom had seen a lot of your hungover mornings and it never told your secrets.Â
âThat was poverty!â May yelled from across the patio, making all three of you laugh.
âAnd yet,â Seokjin went on, looking around with exaggerated seriousness, âwe all still came over every weekend like we were living the free life.â
âWe were twenty-two and stupid.â Jimin said with a raise of his glass.
âWe were twenty-two and jobless.â you raised your own glass just to feel young again.
Jimin turned to you with fake offense all over his pretty face: âI had a job.â
Jimin gasped, hand to chest, and you finally laughed around the next sip, wincing right after when the tequila hit again:
âTo Mayâs new house.â
âTo Mayâs new house.â you echoed, touching your glass lightly to theirs as the conversation rolled on like it always had, easy and warm and worn in from years of knowing exactly how to pull laughter out of each other.
And then you noticed him almost right away, even with the patio full enough to split your attention. Through the glass doors, Taehyung paused on the other side of the porch light, eyes moving over the backyard like he was searching for someone specific, and your heart gave one small, stupid jump the second his face changed when he found you.Â
It was immediate, easy to read even from where you sat. Something in him lit up, softening his whole face before he even stepped outside, and you hated what that one look did to you after everything you had just told yourself in the kitchen.
Jimin noticed too, because of course he did. He cleared his throat beside you and nudged your arm with his elbow in a way that was far too knowing to be innocent, then pushed himself up with his drink and casually abandoned his spot, moving to annoy Namjoonâs personal space.Â
By the time you looked back up, Taehyung was already there, catching the open space like it had always been meant to be his. He sat down beside you without hesitation, pulling off his red jacket before you could ask what he was doing, and draped it over your legs in one easy movement, covering your bare thighs and the side of your dress the night air had started getting to. The gesture was so natural it almost felt practiced.
Your eyes lifted on instinct, scanning past his shoulder, almost expecting Alyssa to appear behind him or step out onto the patio a second later, but the glass doors only showed the warm blur of people still inside, moving through the kitchen and living room with drinks of their own.Â
âI got this for you.â Taehyung held up a small mandarin between his fingers, and it looked almost ridiculous in his hand, bright and glossy and so much smaller than his palm that it made you smile before you could keep yourself in check.Â
Even from that close, you could spot the tiny hot-stamped Jeju sticker pressed onto the peel, the kind that made it obvious this was not just any fruit someone grabbed from a corner store, but from somewhere expensive.
âWhere did you find that?â you chuckled, already feeling the rest of the patio blur at the edges as your attention settled fully on him.
âMayâs fridge.â he shrugged, like snooping through someoneâs kitchen was the most normal thing in the world.
âWhen she said feel at home, I donât think thatâs what she meantââÂ
Taehyung only shrugged, like of course he had stolen fruit out of someone elseâs fridge for you, like that did not need any further explanation. Then he lowered his eyes to the mandarin and started peeling it with a care that made your chest feel strangely tight. His thumb pressed into the skin just enough to break it, the peel lifting back in soft strips under his fingers, and each little squeeze released that fresh, sweet citrus scent into the cold air between you.Â
You watched his hands more than you meant to, the steady way he worked, unhurried and precise, and it did something unfair to your heart when it should have been the simplest thing in the world. But it was coming from him, which made it feel like more.
With was always more with Taehyung.Â
Once the fruit was bare in his palm, he split off one piece and started pulling away the thin white strings clinging to it, taking his time with the same quiet focus. You knew exactly why he was doing it. He had seen you pick at them before, complaining about the texture until only the clean pulp was left.
âDamn, let the girl eat some fibers.â Seokjin said from your other side, amusement easy in his voice.
Taehyung did not even look up. âI like enabling her.â
âYouâre the only one.â Seokjin shot back, the kind of teasing that had always belonged to the two of you.
Taehyungâs mouth twitched, but there was something a little firmer under it when he answered:Â
âShe only needs one, so.â he kept going, stripping the last stubborn bit of white from the piece between his fingers like Seokjin had not said a thing.
One of the girls sitting near May let out a dramatic sound.Â
âThatâs actually sick. My boyfriend wonât even bring me water, and youâre out here peeling the strings off too?â
Another voice laughed with her, but it all blurred a little at the edges for you. You almost waited for Taehyung to correct it, to say it was not like that, that he was just being nice. He never did. He only looked at you, the peeled piece of fruit held up near your mouth, his eyes steady enough to make your pulse trip over itself.Â
When you leaned in and took it with your lips, his gaze stayed there the whole time, fixed on your mouth in a way that made the sweet burst of juice feel secondary to the heat climbing up your neck.
âIâm not always on board with stealing, but this is actually really good.â you said after swallowing, still tasting the burst of sweet juice on your tongue.
Taehyung smiled under his breath like that had been the point all along, already working on the next piece before the first one had barely gone down. The orange peel, the thin white strings, even two small seeds he had picked out rested carelessly on the knees of his jeans, and he did not seem bothered by any of it.Â
His hands kept moving with the same quiet patience, making a mess of himself so you would not have to deal with any of it.Â
âAlyssa brought them for May.â he said, glancing down at the fruit as he cleaned another segment for you. âAs a house gift, I think. She said they came from some farmerâs market near her place that gets them from Jeju Island.â
âOh.â
âI asked for the guyâs number. If you want more, I can get them for you.â he gave one small shrug, like this had all been obvious.Â
Your stomach fluttered again at the mention of Alyssa, but this time it turned on itself almost right away, the ugly little knot loosening as fast as it had formed. You looked at him for a second, then at the fruit in his hand, and the alcohol warming your chest made your mouth move before your pride could stop it: âI thought she gave you her number.â
âWhy would I need her number?â Taehyung finally looked up, eyebrows pulling together like the idea had not crossed his mind once.Â
âHave you looked at her?â you let out a soft scoff, trying to play it off even as your face felt warmer than it should have.Â
He held the next piece up to your mouth before answering, waiting until you leaned in and took it from his fingers.Â
âSheâs not my type.â he said simply.
Jimin, who had absolutely been listening from his seat this whole time, made a delighted sound like he had just been handed gossip and dessert at the same time.Â
âWhatâs your type, Taehyung-ssi?â the man wanted to know immediately.Â
Taehyung did not even hesitate. He kept his eyes on the mandarin in his hands as he peeled away another stubborn string, but the corner of his mouth lifted.Â
âSomeone who still uses gel pens to write notes and refuses to eat fiber unless it comes from popcorn.â
The reactions that followed stayed soft everywhere but under your own skin. One of the girls let out an immediate, breathy âawâ, another groaned like she had just witnessed something unfair, and Jiminâs mouth curved into that deeply satisfied little smile of someone who had seen this coming from ten miles away.Â
Beside you, Seokjin lifted his hand toward Taehyung for a high five over the boldness of the words, only to be completely ignored as Taehyung kept working on the fruit like nothing had happened.Â
Seokjin looked at his own hand for a second, then slapped it against his other palm himself, and that was what earned the quiet burst of laughter from the group.
âIs there something you didnât tell us?â May asked from across the patio, narrowing her eyes at the two of you with instant suspicion. âYou would tell me if youâre dating, right?â
âWeâre not.â Taehyung glanced up at that, then back down to the mandarin in his hands. Something in your chest dipped before he added, just as simply: âI was hoping we would be, after tonight.â
You turned to look at him so fast your shoulder brushed his. âWhat?â
âOur movie date got cut short.â only then did he lift his eyes to yours, and there was nothing dramatic in his face, nothing played up for the people around you. He just looked at you openly, like this was the easiest truth in the world to say. âNow all I have left is peeling mandarins and hoping you understand what Iâm doing.â
For a second, you could only stare at him.
The patio did not go silent. People were still talking around you, May was still laughing somewhere to your left, a chair scraped lightly over stone, and somebody inside the house opened one of the sliding doors just enough for a swell of music to spill out before it shut again.Â
But all of it felt farther away now, softened at the edges, like the whole night had folded in around the small space the two of you occupied on the patio couch.
Taehyung, meanwhile, stayed exactly where he was, knee pressed lightly to yours under the weight of his jacket still draped over your legs. He picked a seed from the next segment and dropped it onto his jeans with the rest of the mess, not caring in the slightest what he looked like.
âSo,â he said, quieter now, only for you. âDid it get the point across?â
You looked at the fruit in his hand, at the white strings gathered over the blue denim on his knees, at the bright peel curled near his leg, then back at his face. He was watching you with that same open steadiness, like he was not nervous at all, like saying what he meant had never once felt unnatural to him.
Your stomach fluttered so hard it almost hurt.
âMaybe a little.â you murmured.
âA little?â his eyebrows lifted.
âYou might have to keep going.â your heart was fluttering like crazy in your chest.Â
The grin that spread over his face came slow and warm, lighting him up in a way that made your chest squeeze all over again.Â
âThatâs fine.â he said, already lifting the next perfect piece to your mouth. âI bought myself at least another five minutes with this one.â
You were full on expecting things to become awkward between you and Taehyung, after the small and blunt, but very honest confession that passed between the two of you, in front of all of your other friends, no less. Instead, even when it was just the two of you inside his car, his fingers smelling of mandarin juice and you smelling of the perfume that clung to his jacket you were now wearing, the mood was light.Â
Well, as light as it could be, now that you knew tonight was supposed to be your first date with your best friend. It was all so surreal to you, that you couldnât find the right words to say, or even any wrong ones, just to break the silence. And Taehyung clearly noticed it, too, when he started driving away from Mayâs new neighborhood and said:Â
âWas I out of line?â his tone was low and calm, so much so that you almost missed the question. Â
âHuh?â you looked at him, noticing how both hands on the steering wheel now. You shook your head right away. âNo, you were⊠You. Which, for the record, is how I like you.â
âCareful with that word now, babe.â his shoulders seemed to relax, but just a smidge. âI might think you mean it.âÂ
âYou peeled me an expensive mandarin, of course I mean it.â you chuckled, taking your own leap of faith and resting your hand on his thigh, just like he had done to you so many times before. Â
âThatâs what did it, huh?â his right hand rested on top of yours, and as much as youâd held hands before, it never felt quite like this. Â
âActually, what did it was you bribing my desk-mate to exchange places with you so you could sit by my side in school.â you told him with a new laugh, feeling the small clench of his fingers around yours. âThe mandarin only reminded me youâve always been like this with me.â
Taehyung let your words sink in, the fact that you had a crush on him for decades now. You watched his small pout disappear just as fast as it appeared, like he wondered, just for a moment, how much time you lost by being young and not knowing any better. But then he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles, like he decided no time would be wasted from now on.Â
âSo am I dropping you off?â Taehyung asked you, and there was a lot more behind those words than you might have been expecting. âOr do I get a little more time tonight?âÂ
âCan you peel this one for breakfast tomorrow?â you pulled the second mandarin from the jacketâs pocket, making Taehyung laugh so hard it filled the car.Â
âI definitely can.âÂ
The conversation kept flowing as he drove, easy and unforced, moving from one thought to the next with the kind of rhythm that only came from knowing someone for years.Â
It was light, familiar, full of the little things that would have sounded meaningless to anyone else, but with him it never felt like filling silence. Your hand stayed in his over the center console, his thumb brushing yours every now and then as the city passed outside in quiet stretches of yellow light.
Nothing about it felt staged or fragile, nothing about it made you nervous in the way new things usually did for you. If anything, it felt like stepping into something that had been waiting for you both for a very long time, and now that you were finally here, there was no awkwardness to it at all.Â
The walk from the car to the elevator of his building was quiet, your heels clicking softly beside his sneakers. His red jacket still hung over your shoulders, carrying his warmth and that faint cologne youâd known for years. Taehyung kept one hand lightly at the small of your back, guiding you without any real pressure, like he just needed the contact.
Inside the elevator, the doors slid shut and the soft hum filled the small space. You leaned against the mirrored wall, watching him press the button for his floor. When he turned back to you, the air felt thicker. He stepped closer, not quite crowding you, but close enough that you could see the tiny flecks of gold in his eyes and smell the faint citrus still clinging to his fingers.
âHi.â he murmured, almost silly after everything tonight.
âHi.â you whispered back, biting down on a smile.
The elevator dinged far too soon. Taehyung took your hand again as you stepped out into the quiet hallway, his thumb brushing your knuckles the whole way to his door.
He unlocked it with one hand, pushing the door open and letting you step inside first. The familiar scent of his apartment wrapped around you, clean laundry, a hint of sandalwood, and something that was just undeniably him. You kicked off your heels by the door out of habit, toes sinking into the soft rug. Taehyung followed, toeing off his red sneakers and setting them neatly beside yours like they belonged there.
The click of the door closing behind him sounded louder than it should have.
For a second you both just stood there in the entryway, the weight of the night settling around you. Then Taehyung moved.
One hand came up to rest on the door beside your head, the other gently cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone. He stepped in until his body was only a breath away from yours, caging you in without trapping you; tall, warm, and so close you could feel the heat radiating off his chest through his white shirt.
His eyes searched yours, dark and steady, a tiny furrow between his brows like he was holding his breath.
âIâve wanted to do this for so long.â he said quietly, voice barely above a whisper. âBut if it feels wrong⊠if itâs awkward⊠we stop. We go back to mandarins and movie nights and Iâll still be the happiest guy in the world just being your best friend. Okay?â
Your heart was hammering so loudly you were sure he could hear it. You nodded, swallowing past the flutter in your throat.
âOkay.â
Taehyung leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. His nose brushed yours first, soft and tentative. Then his lips touched yours, gentle and warm, testing. The first press was feather-light, almost careful, like he was afraid the years between you might shatter if he pushed too hard.
For one heartbeat it felt like the world held its breath with you.
Then something clicked.
His lips moved against yours with quiet certainty, tilting his head just enough to fit better, and the kiss deepened naturally, sweetly, like breathing. There was no awkwardness, no clash of noses or hesitation in rhythm. Just warmth, the faint taste of mandarin and the way his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers threading gently into your hair.
A soft sound escaped you, half sigh, half relief, and Taehyung answered it with a tiny, involuntary hum against your mouth, like the tension heâd been carrying for years finally unraveled.
When he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, both of you breathing a little faster, his eyes were shining.
âFuck.â he whispered, a soft laugh coloring the word. âThat didnât feel like breaking anything.â
âNo⊠it felt like finally starting.â you let out a shaky laugh too, your hands having found their way to his chest at some point, fingers curled into his shirt.Â
His thumb brushed your bottom lip, eyes following the motion with open wonder.
âYeah,â he murmured, voice warm and a little rough. âYeah.â
He kissed you again, slower this time, deeper, but still unhurried, like he wanted to memorize every second of it. One hand stayed at the back of your neck, the other sliding down to your waist, pulling you gently closer until your bodies pressed together. The kiss stayed sweet, but there was a quiet thrill underneath it now, a spark that made your stomach flip and your fingers tighten in his shirt.
When you finally parted, Taehyung didnât step back. He stayed right there, caged around you against the door, smiling that small, private smile youâd only ever seen aimed at you.
You let out a soft, breathless laugh: âWe just kissed.â
âWe did.â he whispered back, eyes crinkling with quiet joy. His thumb brushed your cheek again, like he couldnât quite believe he was allowed to do that now. âAnd it was⊠good. Really good.â
âReally good.â you echoed, feeling giddy and warm all over.
Taehyung pressed one last gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth before finally stepping back just enough to let you breathe. He took your hand, lacing your fingers together, and tugged you gently away from the door.
âCome here.â he said, voice soft and a little shy as he led you down the short hallway into the living room.Â
The space was familiar just like the rest of the apartment, the big comfortable couch youâd both fallen asleep on during countless movie nights, the low lamp casting a warm glow that never seemed to be turned off, no matter how much you pointed out his energy bill.
You both dropped onto the couch, knees bumping, and suddenly the giggles hit. Soft, unstoppable little laughs that came from pure relief and disbelief.
âI canât believe youâre finally my girl.â Taehyung laughed under his breath, and if it was anyone else saying those words, you would have cringed. But it was Tae, so the words landed so sweetly that your chest fluttered hard.Â
âYour girl?â you repeated, teasing but unable to hide how much you liked hearing it.
âYeah.â he sounded almost shy now, the confident Taehyung from the patio giving way to the boy who once bought you a grape gel pen just to make up for embarrassing you. âIf you want to be.â
The moment stretched tender and sweet between you until Taehyungâs expression shifted into something more careful, more concerned.
âHey⊠youâre not drunk, right?â he asked, brows furrowing slightly. âMayâs margaritas are no joke. You said they were strong.â
âIâm fine, Tae. I barely drank half of it.â you shook your head quickly, smiling at how thoughtful he was even now. âThe tequila hit hard at first, but Iâm perfectly sober, I promise.â
âOkay. But just in case⊠wait here.â he studied your face for a second longer, then nodded, still looking a little protective.Â
Before you could protest, he stood up and headed toward the kitchen, his socked feet quiet on the floor.Â
While he was gone, you shrugged off his red jacket, folding it neatly and laying it over the arm of the couch. The cool air of the apartment brushed against your skin now that you were no longer covered by the heavy fabric. Your dress suddenly felt a little shorter, a little more revealing than it had all night, the neckline sitting lower, the hem riding up just enough on your thighs as you sat with your legs tucked under you.
You were suddenly very aware of how much you were showing, and even more aware that Taehyung would notice the second he came back.
The thought sent another flutter through your stomach, nervous, but the good kind.
You heard the fridge door close, the soft clink of a glass bottle, and then his footsteps returning. When Taehyung stepped back into the living room with the cold bottle of water in hand, his eyes did exactly what you expected: they flicked down to your bare shoulders, the curve of your collarbones, the way the dress now clung a little differently without the jacket hiding you.
He paused for half a second, throat working as he swallowed. Then he cleared it softly and continued toward you, handing you the water with a small, warm smile that didnât quite hide the new heat in his gaze.
âHere.â he said, voice a touch lower than before. âDrink some.â
You took the cold bottle from him, your fingers brushing his in a way that felt more intentional now. The first sip of water was refreshing against the lingering warmth of the margarita and the heat still blooming under your skin from his kisses. Taehyung watched you the whole time, eyes soft but noticeably darker as they traced the line of your throat and then dropped lower.
âYou look really pretty like this.â he cleared his throat quietly, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips.Â
âLike what?â you asked, teasing even though your cheeks warmed.
âWithout my jacket hiding you.â his gaze flicked down again, then back to your face, almost apologetic. âI donât know where to put my hands now.â
The honest admission made you laugh softly, the sound light and affectionate. You set the water on the coffee table and shifted closer on the couch until your knees pressed together.Â
âYou can put them on me, Tae.â you told him easily. âWeâre not exactly strangers.â
He let out a breath that sounded half-relieved, half-nervous, and reached for you. One warm palm settled carefully on your bare thigh, just below the hem of your dress, while the other came up to cup the side of your neck. His thumb stroked your skin in slow, soothing circles. The touch was gentle, still testing, like he was giving you every chance to guide him or slow him down.
For a moment you just sat there like that, sitting close, breathing each other in, the quiet hum of the apartment wrapping around you. Then Taehyungâs eyes drifted to the side, landing on the second mandarin youâd pulled from his jacket pocket earlier and left on the coffee table.
A small, fond smile crossed his face.Â
âI know you said you wanted that for breakfast, but you can have it now, if youâre hungry. We didnât eat much tonight.â he murmured, voice low and a little rough. âYou want me to peel it?â
You nodded, biting your lip to hide how much the simple offer affected you. âYeah, if you donât mind.â
He picked up the fruit with the hand that had been on your neck, but his fingers were noticeably less steady than theyâd been on the patio, a faint tremble as he started working the peel. The citrus scent bloomed between you again, sharp and sweet, mixing with the warm sandalwood of his apartment.Â
You watched his hands, the way his long fingers pressed into the skin, peeling it back in careful strips. Juice glistened on his fingertips, and every now and then his eyes would flick up to yours, checking, wanting.
When he finally split off a clean segment and began pulling away the thin white strings with the same patient focus as before, you felt the familiar flutter low in your stomach, only stronger now, heavier with everything that had already changed tonight.
Taehyung held the piece up between you, offering it like he had on the patio. But this time, instead of simply taking it with your lips, you leaned forward and closed your mouth around it⊠and around the tips of his fingers.
The juice burst sweet across your tongue. You let your lips linger for a second longer than necessary, tongue brushing softly against his skin to catch the sticky citrus that clung there. Your eyes stayed locked on his the whole time, wide, warm, and a little daring.
Taehyungâs breath hitched sharply. His whole body went still except for the faint tremor that ran through the hand still resting on your thigh. His pupils blew wide, dark and stunned, as he watched you slowly pull back, lips sliding off his fingers with one last gentle swipe of your tongue.
âYou canât do this to meâŠâ he whispered, voice hoarse and wrecked in the softest way. The words came out almost like a plea, but his eyes were shining with pure want. âNot after waiting this long. Not when you look at me like that.â
The air between you felt heavier now, thicker with the citrus scent still clinging to his fingers and the quiet sound of your breathing. You smiled, a little shy, a little bold, and licked your lips once more just to watch the way his gaze followed the motion.
Before you could say anything, Taehyungâs voice dropped even lower, warm and curious.Â
âLet me have a taste too.â he murmured, eyes flicking from your mouth back to the half-peeled mandarin in his hand. âSee what all the fuss is about.â
He didnât wait for an answer. Instead, he broke off another small segment, but this time he didnât offer it to you. He popped it into his own mouth first, chewing slowly, juice glistening on his lower lip. Then he leaned in, one hand still resting high on your thigh.
The kiss started soft again, like you were learning he liked, just the press of his lips against yours, but the moment his tongue traced the seam of your mouth, it deepened into something far more sensual.Â
He tasted like sweet mandarin and warmth, and he explored you unhurriedly, like he wanted to learn every detail. Taehyungâs teeth caught your bottom lip in a gentle nibble, tugging lightly before soothing it with his tongue. You sighed into him, and he answered by sucking softly on your tongue, slow and drawing another quiet sound from your throat.
Your hands moved on instinct, sliding up into his messy waves, fingers threading through the soft strands and tugging just enough to make him hum against your mouth. The vibration sent a shiver down your spine. Taehyungâs free hand didnât stay still either, it slipped beneath the hem of your dress, palm gliding slowly up the bare skin of your thigh, stopping just short of where the fabric ended higher up. His thumb stroked lazy circles there, teasing the edge of your underwear without pushing further, like he was still giving you every chance to set the pace.
Tae pulled back just enough to breathe, lips brushing yours with every word:Â
âGod, you taste even better like this.â he whispered, voice rough and shaky with want. His fingers flexed gently on your thigh, the other hand still tangled in your hair. âTell me if Iâm going too fast, okay? I just⊠Iâve thought about kissing you for so long. Touching you.â
You answered by pulling him back in, your own hands tightening in his hair as the kiss picked up again, deeper, slower, more exploratory. His palm slid a little higher under your dress, the heat of his touch making your stomach tighten with anticipation, while your fingers scratched lightly at his scalp, earning you another low, pleased sound from deep in his chest.
Everything stayed tender, but the spark from the mandarin moment had ignited into a slow-burning flame that was quickly becoming impossible to ignore.
You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, chest rising and falling quickly. Taehyungâs eyes were dark, lips slightly swollen, hair deliciously messed up from your fingers. His hand was still warm under the hem of your dress, resting high on your thigh, but you wanted it closer.
âStand up for me?â he asked softly, voice husky but gentle, like he was still checking if this was okay.
You nodded, heart hammering. He helped you to your feet, both of you rising from the couch in one fluid motion. Once you were standing, Taehyung stayed seated for a second longer, looking up at you with open wonder. Then he rose too, tall frame unfolding until he towered over you, broad shoulders and warm presence making the space between you feel smaller in the best way.
His hands found your waist first, steady and warm.Â
âCan IâŠ?â he murmured, fingers brushing the zipper at the side of your dress.
âYes.â you whispered.
He pulled the zipper down slowly, the soft sound loud in the quiet room. The fabric loosened, and with careful hands he eased the dress off your shoulders. It slid down your body and pooled at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your panties. No bra, the cool air kissing your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his gaze.
Taehyungâs breath caught audibly. His eyes dropped to your bare breasts, dark and appreciative, lingering.Â
âFuck⊠youâre beautiful.â he said, almost under his breath, like the words slipped out before he could stop them. One large hand came up, hesitating just a moment before his palm gently cupped the underside of one breast, thumb brushing over the soft curve. âI didnât know⊠God, I didnât know you were this perfect.â
The size difference hit you then, him standing so close, so much taller, his broad frame making you feel small and cherished all at once. You swallowed, warmth flooding your cheeks and lower belly.
Taehyung seemed to notice the effect too. A small, almost shy smile touched his lips as he looked down at you, one hand still on your breast, the other resting at your waist. âLook at you.â he murmured, voice low, like he knew exactly what to say to undo you. âSo small next to me⊠and still driving me crazy.â
âYouâre not exactly small yourself, Tae.â you couldnât help the soft laugh that escaped, even as your pulse raced.Â
His grin widened for a second, warm and affectionate, before he stepped back just enough to reach behind his neck and tug his white shirt off in one smooth motion. The fabric hit the floor beside your dress. Your eyes drank him in; the smooth, tanned planes of his chest, the subtle definition of his stomach, the way his shoulders looked even broader without anything covering them. You had seen him shirtless before, but never like this. Never with permission to stare. Never with the knowledge that you could touch.
For a long moment you simply stood there, staring at each other in the soft lamplight. The tension was thick, palpable, crackling in the silence. His eyes traced every inch of your bare skin; yours did the same to him, the faint trail of hair disappearing into his jeans, the way his chest rose and fell a little faster now, the obvious bulge pressing against the front of his pants.
Taehyung was the first to move. He took your hand and guided you back toward the couch, his touch gentle despite the heat in his gaze. âCome here, my girl.â
He eased you down onto your back, following you so he settled between your parted legs. The couch was wide enough that he could brace himself on one forearm without crushing you, his body covering yours in warm, delicious weight. The moment he lowered himself, you felt the hard line of his cock press against your core through the thin layers of fabric still separating you, denim against lace, hot and insistent.
A soft gasp left your lips at the contact.
Taehyung groaned quietly, forehead dropping to your collarbones.Â
âSorry⊠you just feel so good already.â he rolled his hips once, slow and lazy, letting you feel him fully. Then he captured your mouth again in a heated, unhurried kiss.
This kiss was lazier than the ones before, deeper and more indulgent. His tongue slid against yours in slow strokes, occasionally pulling back to nibble at your bottom lip or suck gently on your tongue the way you were quickly learning he loved. Your hands roamed freely now, one threading back into his messy waves, the other sliding down the warm, bare skin of his back, feeling the muscles shift under your palms as he moved.
Taeâs own hands werenât idle. One stayed at your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it tightened under his touch. The other slipped between your bodies, palm gliding up your inner thigh until his fingers brushed the edge of your panties, teasing without rushing. All the while he kept that slow, grinding rhythm against you, his cock pressing and rubbing right where you needed him most through the fabric.
Every roll of his hips sent sparks through you. Every sigh and quiet moan he drew from your mouth seemed to make him hungrier, yet he never hurried, like he wanted to savor every second of finally having you like this.
âBeen dreaming about this⊠having you under me. Feeling you like this.â his voice was low and rough against your lips, every word punctuated by another slow roll of his hips that pressed his cock harder against your clothed pussy.Â
You whimpered softly, fingers tightening in his hair, and that seemed to be all the encouragement he needed.
Taehyung kissed you once more, deep and lingering, before he began to trail his mouth downward. He took his time, lips brushing along your jaw, then the sensitive spot just below your ear. When he reached your neck he sucked lightly, then harder, leaving a faint mark that made your breath hitch. Lower still, his mouth found your collarbone, then the swell of your breast.
He groaned the moment his lips closed around your nipple, warm and wet. He sucked gently at first, tongue swirling around the peaked bud, then with more intention in slow, rhythmic pulls that had your back arching off the couch.Â
A soft cry escaped you when he grazed his teeth over the sensitive flesh, followed immediately by soothing licks. He switched to the other breast, giving it the same devoted attention, sucking and biting until the skin flushed and bore faint red marks that would bloom later. His free hand kneaded the breast he wasnât attending to, thumb flicking over the wet nipple heâd just released.
Every pull of his mouth sent sparks straight between your legs. You writhed beneath him, one hand still tangled in his messy waves, the other gripping his shoulder as your hips rolled up instinctively, seeking more friction.
Taehyung hummed in satisfaction against your skin, the vibration traveling through you. He kissed a slow, wet path down the center of your stomach, pausing to dip his tongue into your navel, making you giggle breathlessly before the sound melted into another moan. When he reached the waistband of your panties, he looked up at you through dark lashes, eyes gleaming with heat and quiet awe.
His hand slipped beneath the lace without warning, two long fingers gliding through your folds. The moment he felt how slick you were, a low, pleased sound rumbled in his chest.
âFuck, youâre so wet already.â he murmured, voice thick with wonder. His fingers teased your entrance, circling slowly, spreading the wetness up to your clit without quite giving you the pressure you craved. âAll this for me? Been thinking about me like this too?â
You nodded frantically, hips twitching under his touch. The ache between your legs was almost unbearable now.
He pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss just above the waistband of your panties, then looked up again, lips curved in a small, teasing smile: âI wonder if you taste even better than those Jeju mandarins.â
The words sent a fresh wave of heat through you.Â
âTae⊠please. Find out.â you whined, high and needy, fingers tightening in his hair.Â
That was all he needed.
You lifted your hips eagerly, helping him as he hooked his fingers into the sides of your panties and slid them down your legs. He tossed the lace aside, leaving you completely bare beneath him. For a moment he just looked, eyes dark, chest rising faster, taking in every inch of you spread out on his couch.
Then he settled lower between your thighs, broad shoulders pushing your legs wider apart. He pressed a trail of wet kisses along your inner thigh, alternating sides, getting closer and closer until you felt his warm breath against your pussy.
The first touch of his tongue was gentle, a slow, flat lick from your entrance up to your clit that had your back arching sharply off the cushions. Taehyung moaned loudly against you, the sound raw and unrestrained, like the taste of you was better than anything heâd ever had.
âGod⊠you taste so fucking good.â he groaned, voice muffled against your folds. He dove back in with the same patient, exploratory focus heâd shown with every kiss and every peeled mandarin. His tongue circled your clit in slow, deliberate strokes, then flattened again to lap at you broadly, savoring every drop. He alternated between long, luxurious licks and gentle suction, humming and moaning like he couldnât get enough.
When two of his long fingers slipped inside you, curling slowly to find that perfect spot, your moan broke into a shaky cry. He pumped them lazily at first, matching the rhythm of his tongue, then faster as your hips started to rock against his face. His free hand stayed on your stomach, holding you gently in place while he devoured you, wet, obscene sounds filling the living room along with your gasps and whimpers.
Taehyung was lost in it. Every time you clenched around his fingers or tugged harder at his hair, he groaned louder, hips subtly grinding against the couch for his own relief. He sucked your clit between his lips, tongue flicking rapidly, then soothed with broad licks again, completely focused on pulling more of those sounds from you.
You were trembling, thighs tightening around his head, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter with every stroke of his tongue and curl of his fingers.
He pulled back just enough to murmur against your slick skin, voice hoarse and dripping with need.Â
âThatâs it, my girl⊠let me hear you.â he teased, and then the next words almost did you right then and there: âWant to feel you cum on my tongue.â
Taehyungâs voice was barely more than a growl against your soaked pussy before he dove back in with renewed hunger. His mouth turned starved, tongue flicking rapidly over your swollen clit, then sucking it between his lips with firm, insistent pulls that made your thighs shake.Â
He groaned loudly into you, the vibrations shooting straight through your cunt as two long fingers pumped deeper inside you, stretching you open with every thrust.
He was relentless now, lost in the taste of you. His tongue worked faster, alternating between quick, desperate licks and hard suction, while his fingers curled and scissored, always aiming for that spot that made your back bow off the couch. Wet, filthy sounds filled the living room, the slick slide of his fingers, the obscene noises of his mouth devouring your pussy, your own broken moans growing louder and more desperate.
Your hips rocked frantically against his face, chasing the pleasure as it built unbearably fast. One hand fisted tight in his messy waves, the other gripping the couch cushion like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.
âTaeâ oh god, Taeââ you gasped, voice cracking.
He moaned in response, the sound vibrating against your clit as he sucked harder, fingers thrusting faster, stretching your tight cunt around them. The coil in your belly snapped without warning.
Your orgasm crashed over you hard, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as your pussy clenched rhythmically around his fingers. Taehyung didnât slow down, he kept licking and sucking through every wave, groaning like he was the one coming undone, milking every last tremor from your body until you were trembling and gasping beneath him.
Only when your hips started twitching from oversensitivity did he finally ease up. He gentled his tongue into slow, soothing licks, then carefully withdrew his fingers, replacing them with one last soft kiss to your pulsing clit.
Taehyung climbed up your body slowly, kissing a wet trail up your stomach and between your breasts before burying his face into the crook of your neck. His fingers slid back between your legs, gently pumping into your soaked cunt again, slow, lazy strokes to ease you through the aftershocks. Like now that he had a feel of you, his fingers couldnât stay away.Â
And despite the oversensitivity, you couldnât get enough of it either.
You wrapped your arms around him tightly, pulling him closer to your chest, one hand stroking through his hair while the other rubbed soothing circles over his bare back. Both of you were breathing hard, skin warm and slightly damp with sweat.
âFuck, TaeâŠâ you whispered, voice still shaky with pleasure. âYour tongue felt so good. I didnât know you were that good at it. Iâm⊠honestly surprised.â
He let out a soft, muffled laugh against your neck, but you felt the way his body tensed at the praise, his hips twitching hard against your thigh through his jeans. The reaction was immediate and unmistakable; your words seemed to make him even hornier.
You smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head: âIâve been dying to see you. I know youâre big.â
Taehyung lifted his head just enough to look at you, cheeks flushed, eyes dark but sparkling with shy amusement.Â
âCan you tell?â he chuckled, the sound abashed and boyish.
âIâve seen your morning woods before.â You giggled with the admittance, the sound light despite how wrecked you still felt. His eyes widened in genuine surprise, a dramatic gasp escaping him. âCome on, how many sleepovers did we have?!â
âI still didnât know you noticed it!â he laughed, that sweet laugh youâd loved for years in silence, the one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners even now. âAt least I guess you know what to expect.â
âAm I going to be able to walk tomorrow?â you teased, sliding one hand between your bodies until your palm cupped the hard, heavy outline of his cock through his jeans.
Taehyung groaned deeply, hips rolling forward to press his bulge firmer into your hand.Â
âWhy?â he rasped, voice thick with need. âAre you going anywhere?â
You laughed breathlessly, still cupping his hard length through the denim, giving him one slow squeeze that made his hips jerk forward again.
Taehyung groaned low in his throat, then suddenly pulled back just enough to look down at you with dark, hooded eyes.Â
âI need you on my bed now.â he rasped, voice rough with want.
He pushed himself up from the couch in one smooth motion, towering over you again. Strong hands slid under your arms and helped you stand on slightly shaky legs. The second you were upright, he turned you gently so your back pressed flush against his front. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you tight as he started walking you both toward his bedroom.
The familiar short hallway felt longer than usual when Taehyung couldnât keep his hands or mouth off you. One palm stayed splayed possessively over your stomach while the other roamed higher, cupping and kneading your breast. His cock, still trapped in his jeans, pressed hot and insistent against the curve of your ass with every step. He leaned down repeatedly to mouth at your neck, open, wet kisses mixed with gentle sucks and the occasional scrape of teeth that made your knees weak.
âTae⊠weâre never going to make it if you keep doing that.â you stumbled a little, giggling softly when his arm tightened to steady you.Â
âDonât care.â he murmured against your skin, hips rolling once so you could feel exactly how hard he was. âBeen waiting too long to rush now.â
By the time you reached his bedroom doorway, your skin was flushed and tingling everywhere heâd touched. The warm glow of the bedside lamp was already on, casting soft golden light over the big bed and the familiar scattered details of his room.
âDo you always keep that light on, or were you planning on seducing me like this tonight?â you glanced at the lamp, then back at him with a teasing smile as he finally loosened his hold so you could step forward.Â
âItâs not the first time I left that on.â he admitted quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. âCan you blame me for hoping?â
The honest confession made something warm bloom in your chest, like it had been happening all night. You laughed softly, the sound light and affectionate, and walked the few steps to his bed. You sat on the edge of the mattress, completely bare, and let your eyes roam over him, eating him up with your gaze.
âLetâs see it, then.â you said, voice sweet but dripping with teasing challenge. You tilted your head, smiling up at him. âShow me what Iâve been missing.â
Taehyungâs expression shifted. The shy, second-guessing boy from earlier melted away, replaced by quiet cockiness and pure confidence. He stepped closer until he stood right in front of you, close enough that you had to tilt your head back to keep looking at his face.
Without breaking eye contact, he reached down and popped the button of his jeans. The zipper came down slowly. He shoved the denim down his long legs and kicked it aside, leaving him in just the black boxers that did very little to hide how hard he was.
Then those came off too.
Your mouth went dry.
He was big alright, longer and thicker than the morning woods or the grinding against you on the couch had ever prepared you for. His cock stood flushed and heavy against his stomach, the head a deep, angry red and already leaking steadily, a glossy bead of precum sliding down the shaft. The sheer size of him made your thighs press together instinctively, a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your belly.
Taehyung watched your reaction with dark, satisfied eyes, one hand casually wrapping around the base of his cock and giving himself one slow stroke.Â
âStill think youâll be able to walk tomorrow?â he asked, voice low and teasing, but the way his cock twitched in his grip told you he was just as affected.
You licked your lips, unable to look away. âI⊠might need to call in sick.â
He let out a soft, husky laugh and stepped even closer, his free hand coming down to gently cup your chin, tilting your face up toward him.
Taehyungâs thumb brushed gently over your bottom lip, his voice dropping into something raw and needy.Â
âTouch me.â he murmured, almost begging. âPlease, babyâŠâ
The plea hit you straight in the chest; and lower. Your heart fluttered hard at how desperate he sounded, and a fresh pulse of heat throbbed between your legs, your cunt clenching around nothing at the sound of his voice like that.
You felt a little shy suddenly, despite everything youâd already done tonight. You looked up at him through your lashes, biting your lip as you reached for him. Your fingers wrapped around the thick base of his cock, and the moment you felt the scorching heat and velvet-soft skin, both of you let out a quiet sound.
Your hand looked so small and delicate against him, pretty fingers barely able to close fully around his impressive girth. Taehyungâs cock twitched visibly in your grip, another bead of precum welling at the flushed tip and sliding down slowly.
âFuckâŠâ he breathed, eyes fixed on the sight. âLook at that. Your pretty little hand looks so tiny on me.â
The awe in his voice made you bolder. You used it against him, voice soft and sweet as you started stroking him slowly from base to tip: âYou like that? Like seeing how small I am compared to you?â
âYesâ shit, yes. Love it.â Taehyung groaned, hips jerking forward into your fist.
You spread the leaking precum down his shaft with your thumb, making the slide smoother as you learned every inch of him, the thick vein running along the underside, the way he pulsed hot and heavy in your palm, how he seemed to grow even harder under your touch. Your strokes stayed slow and exploratory at first, twisting gently at the head on every upstroke.
His moans became constant now, low and broken, like he could barely hold himself together. Every sound went straight to your core, making you wetter as you watched his abs tense and his chest rise faster with each pump of your hand.
You kept your eyes locked on his the whole time, refusing to look away even when you leaned forward. Your tongue darted out first, giving the leaking tip a slow lick that tasted salty-sweet. Taehyungâs breath hitched sharply, one hand coming down to gently thread through your hair without pushing.
Then you opened your mouth wider, stretching your jaw to take him in. Your lips wrapped around the flushed head, the sheer size of him forcing your mouth open as you sank down slowly, tongue swirling around the sensitive underside.
Taehyung let out a deep, guttural moan, fingers tightening just slightly in your hair. âThatâs it⊠fuck, your mouth feels so good already. My pretty girlâŠâ
You sank down further, taking more of his thick cock into your mouth until the head nudged the back of your throat. Your lips stretched wide around him, saliva already beginning to coat his shaft as you bobbed your head slowly at first, then with more confidence. The sounds were messy, wet, obscene slurps mixed with your soft hums and his constant, broken moans. Drool slipped from the corners of your mouth, dripping down your chin and onto his balls as you worked him deeper, tongue pressing firmly along the thick vein underneath.
âFuck⊠your mouth is so warm, so wet, shit, babyâŠâ Taehyungâs hand stayed gentle in your hair, not forcing, just holding as his hips twitched forward involuntarily.Â
You hollowed your cheeks and sucked harder, taking him as deep as you could until your nose nearly brushed his pelvis. Your free hand stroked what you couldnât fit, twisting slickly with all the spit. Then your other hand slipped between his legs to cup his heavy balls, rolling them gently in your palm.
Taehyungâs entire body jerked. A deep, guttural groan tore from his chest and his cock throbbed hard against your tongue. For a second he looked like he was about to lose it right there, hips stuttering as he fought for control.
You pulled off just enough to giggle around the head of his cock, eyes sparkling up at him with pure mischief.
âLittle brat.â he cursed breathlessly, voice strained and fond at the same time. âYou knew exactly what you were doing.â
Still smiling, you gave his balls one last gentle squeeze before releasing them. Taehyung let out a shaky exhale, then gently tugged you off his cock with a wet pop. His chest was heaving, eyes dark with lust as he looked down at your swollen, shiny lips and the mess of spit on your chin.
âOn the bed.â he instructed, voice rough but gentle. âHands and knees. I need to see that pretty ass.â
You obeyed instantly, heat flooding your body at the command. Turning around, you crawled up the mattress toward the headboard, swaying your hips with every movement. You lowered your shoulders to the sheets, arching your back deeply so your ass was high in the air, knees spread wide, presenting yourself perfectly for him.
Behind you, Taehyung let out a low, strained hum that sounded more like a growl: âYou shouldnât be so good at that.â
âNeither of us are virgins, Tae.â you pointed out softly, cheek pressed to the cool sheet as you glanced back at him. âYou met all of my boyfriendsââ
The sharp smack of his palm against your ass cut you off, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to sting deliciously and make you gasp. The possessive edge in the gesture sent a fresh rush of arousal straight to your cunt.
âIâm the only boyfriend youâll have from now on.â he said, voice low and serious, one big hand rubbing soothingly over the spot heâd just smacked. âThe only one who gets to see you like this. Got it?â
âYes⊠I only ever wanted you, Tae. Only you.â you moaned at the words, your pussy clenching visibly with how much his possessiveness turned you on.Â
âGood girl,â he praised, the words warm and rough at the same time.
He climbed onto the bed behind you, the mattress dipping under his weight. You heard the slick sound of him pumping his cock a few times, then felt the blunt, leaking head press against your dripping entrance. He nudged it up and down your folds, coating himself in your wetness, but he didnât push inside. Just rested there, hot and heavy, teasing.
You whined impatiently, pushing back against him, but he stayed perfectly still. When you looked over your shoulder, you found him already staring at you, eyes dark, jaw tight, drinking in the sight of you presented so openly for him.
âShow me what you can do, then.â he murmured, voice thick with challenge and barely contained need.
It was your turn not to hesitate.
With a slow, deliberate roll of your hips, you pushed back onto him. The thick head of his cock parted your slick folds and began to sink inside your tight cunt, stretching you open inch by inch. You clenched around him on purpose, sucking him deeper with every backward movement, your walls fluttering and gripping as you took more of his impressive length.
âFuck⊠thatâs it. Taking me so well already.â Taehyung groaned low and long behind you, hands flexing on your hips.Â
You kept going, slow and confident, until your ass finally met his pelvis and he was buried to the hilt inside you. The stretch was intense, he felt impossibly big, filling and stuffing your pussy completely. You stayed perfectly still once he was fully seated, cockwarming him while your walls fluttered and adjusted around his throbbing girth. Both of you breathed heavily in the quiet room, savoring the moment.
Taehyungâs hands roamed patiently over your body even as his cock twitched deep inside you. He spread your cheeks wider with both palms, groaning softly at the sight of where you were connected, your pussy stretched tight around his thick shaft. His hands then slid up your sides, tracing every curve, before gliding down the length of your spine in long, soothing strokes.
âSo pretty like this.â he whispered, voice rough with restraint. âSo fucking tight and warm around me⊠Take your time, baby. Iâve got you.â
You stayed like that for a long moment, letting your body get used to the deep, full feeling of him. When your breathing finally evened out and the initial burn melted into pure pleasure, Taehyungâs hand slid up your back and gathered your hair into a loose fist. He gave it a firm, gentle pull, arching your back deeper and making you moan loudly as the new angle pushed him even further inside you.
âGonna show me what this perfect ass can do or nah?â he teased, voice low and husky, the words laced with that cocky confidence he wore so well now.
You answered by starting to move.
You rocked your hips slowly at first, then began to really fuck him, swaying and swiveling in smooth, deliberate circles, rolling your ass back onto his cock with practiced rhythm. You cocked your hips on every downward stroke, taking him deep and grinding so your pussy clenched and fluttered around every inch of him.
Taehyungâs curses and moans spilled out under his breath, growing louder and more broken the faster you moved. âShitâ fuck, babyâŠâ
His free hand stayed on your hip, gripping tight, while the other kept that gentle pull on your hair, guiding you as you rode him in deep, filthy strokes. He touched you everywhere he could reach, palm sliding up your spine, squeezing your ass, reaching underneath to cup and knead your breast.
âYouâre so deep, Tae⊠God, youâre stuffing my pussy so full. I can feel every inch of you.â you moaned loudly with every thrust, voice breathy and wrecked.
The praise hit him hard. You felt his cock twitch violently inside you, his hips jerking up to meet your movements as another low groan tore from his throat.
âYeah?â he rasped, voice strained with pleasure. âYou like how I fill you up? Like being stretched around my cock?â
âLove it⊠Youâre so big, and you feel so perfect.â you nodded frantically, pushing back harder onto him, the wet sounds of skin meeting skin filling the room. âBeen waiting so long for thisâ for you to fuck me like this.â
Taehyungâs grip on your hair tightened just enough to make you gasp, his other hand sliding down to rub firm circles over your clit as you continued to ride him with steady, sinful rolls of your hips. His moans were constant now, raw and needy, every praise you gave him making him lose himself a little more.
Suddenly he pulled out with a wet sound, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. Before you could whine at the loss, his strong hands grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your back in one smooth motion.
You squealed in surprise, the sound turning into a breathless laugh as you bounced lightly on the mattress. Taehyung was already moving, towering over you as he pushed your thighs wide apart. His eyes were dark and hungry, chest heaving.
He didnât give you time to catch your breath.
With one powerful thrust he shoved his thick cock back into your soaked pussy, burying himself to the hilt in a single stroke. The stretch was sudden and overwhelming, punching a loud moan out of you as your back arched off the bed.
Taehyung caged you in immediately, forearms braced on either side of your head, his broad body covering yours completely. He started fucking you harder, faster, deeper strokes that made the bed creak beneath you. Skin slapped loudly against skin with every thrust, wet and filthy.
âFuckâ yes.â he groaned, voice rough and low. âThis is what I needed. Want to see your face while I fuck you.â
He leaned down and latched onto your chest, sucking and biting at the soft skin of your breasts, leaving little marks that made you cry out. Your nails raked down his back, leaving long scratches that only seemed to spur him on. He hissed in pleasure, hips snapping harder into you.
Every thrust was deep and good, the head of his cock dragging against that perfect spot inside your cunt over and over. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back as you pulled him even deeper.
âTaeâ oh my god, youâre so deep.â you moaned, voice breaking. âFeels so good⊠donât stop.â
âNot stopping.â he growled against your skin, biting down on the side of your breast before soothing it with his tongue. âGonna fuck this pretty pussy until you canât walk tomorrow. Youâre mine now, baby. Only mine.â
Dirty, open-mouthed kisses followed, messy and desperate, tongues sliding together as he kept pounding into you. The wet slap of skin on skin mixed with your shared moans and gasps, filling the warm bedroom. His hips rolled with every thrust, grinding against your clit on the downstroke and making sparks explode behind your eyes.
You were both getting lost in each other, years of quiet longing finally pouring out in every desperate movement. Your hands roamed his back, nails digging in harder whenever he hit that perfect angle. His mouth moved from your breasts to your neck, sucking marks into your skin, then back to your lips for another sloppy, heated kiss.
âFeel how deep I am?â he panted against your mouth, one hand sliding down to grip your thigh and push it higher, opening you up even more for him. âThis cunt was made for me. So tight, so wetâ fuck, youâre squeezing me so good.â
You whimpered, clenching around his thick cock as another wave of pleasure built fast and hot in your belly. âTae⊠Iâm closeââ
He groaned loudly, pace turning punishing as he fucked you harder, deeper, chasing both your pleasure and his own.Â
âThatâs it, my girl. Come on my cock. Want to feel you fall apart around me.â
The coil in your stomach tightened unbearably, every brutal thrust pushing you closer to the edge. Taehyungâs forehead pressed to yours, eyes locked as you both spiraled together, moans and gasps mingling in the small space between you.
Taehyungâs thrusts stayed deep and punishing, hips snapping against yours with every stroke. His hand slid between your bodies, two fingers finding your swollen clit and rolling it fast, tight circles in perfect sync with the rhythm of his cock driving into your cunt.
The added stimulation was too much. Pleasure coiled unbearably tight in your belly, then snapped.
You came hard with a broken cry, back arching sharply off the bed as your pussy clenched violently around him. Your orgasm hit in messy, gushing waves, warm slick flooding around his thick cock, soaking his shaft, his balls, and the sheets beneath you. Your walls fluttered and pulsed, milking him relentlessly as you trembled and gasped beneath him.
âFuckâ fuck, babyââ Taehyung cursed loudly, eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of you gushing around him. The wet, obscene sounds grew louder as he kept thrusting through your climax, chasing his own release.
He only lasted a few more strokes.
With a deep, guttural groan he buried himself to the hilt and came hard, thick ropes of cum spilling deep inside your pulsing cunt. He filled you up completely, hot and heavy, his cock twitching with every pulse as he emptied himself. His hips jerked erratically, grinding against you as he rode out the intense waves.
Both of you were left twitching and trembling in the aftermath. Taehyungâs arms gave out and he toppled forward, collapsing on top of you with his full weight, face buried in the crook of your neck. His chest heaved against yours, both of you slick with sweat and breathing hard.
After a long moment of heavy, shared breathing, he mumbled against your skin, voice hoarse and a little sheepish:
âI meant to pull out.â
You let out a soft, breathless laugh, arms wrapping tighter around his back.Â
âIâm safe.â you assured him gently, one hand stroking through his damp hair. âAnd I trust you.â
The tension melted from his shoulders instantly. He exhaled shakily, pressing a lazy kiss to your neck. âGod, I love you.â
The words landed warm and certain against your skin. If this had been anyone else, you might have brushed it off as post-sex haze. But this was Taehyung, your Tae, and you knew he meant every syllable.
âI kinda knew that when you peeled that first mandarin.â you smiled, hugging him harder to your chest. He let out a tired, rumbling laugh, the sound vibrating through both of you. You continued softly: âIâll say it back when you do it again.â
Taehyung pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes sparkling with affection and amusement even through the exhaustion. His messy hair fell over his forehead as he grinned down at you.
âNo need for words or mandarins.â he murmured, voice still rough from moaning. âYou donât fuck someone like that when you donât love them back.â
You laughed softly, reaching up to cup his face. He leaned into your palm, eyes fluttering closed for a second before he dipped down to kiss you, slow, lazy, and full of everything youâd both waited years to say out loud.
The two of you stayed tangled together like that, his softening cock still buried inside you, hearts slowing down in the warm glow of the bedside lamp. For the first time in a long time, everything felt exactly right.
â ËËË Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader
â ËËË Summary: Youâre horny af one night so you login to your fave hook-up app for a quick fix. You match with Min Yoongi, expecting a cocky rapper with a filthy mouth, but instead, you get a soft-spoken man in a designer shirt and a gummy smile. He keeps asking you out, but thereâs no kiss, no sex, nothing. Each date winds you up tighter than the last, your patience (and your lingerie) hanging by a thread, and now you canât tell whatâll snap first: his restraint or your self-control.
â ËËË Genre: Fluff, smut, strangers to lovers, non idol
â ËËË Warnings: 18+ MDNI, eventual smut...
â ËËË Chapter Warnings: Yoongi in a suit⊠and his birthday suit! Aye! Eventual smut is here! Kissing, ass play, spanking, lots of spanking actually, pain kink, choking with the use of a necktie, unprotected p in v (wrap before you tap), creampie, oral sex, overuse of the pet name baby (as per ush), just hella smut because I made y'all wait for 7 chapters, tell me if i missed anything
â ËËË Word count: 6.5k !!!
â ËËË Betaread by: Tea and Aqua <3 Thank you so much for your brilliant ideas and support. Canât do this without you!
â ËËË Notes: OH HERE WE GO. The chapter you hot & bothered girlies have been waiting for. Itâs kind of a long one. Reblogs to follow. Please enjoy~
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Date No. 7: The Birthday Suit
Oh this ate.
Youâre appraising yourself in the mirror, a smile spread across your glossy lips in satisfaction.
The black dress youâre wearing is from a recent pull-out, the designer being one of your industry friends. Itâs off the rack but somehow fits you like it was tailored with intent. A slit reveals just enough leg when you walk. The bodice molds your breasts like they were measured for it. Tae called it Bridgerton boobs when you Facetimed him earlier just to vibe check.
You like this look. Sexy, sophisticated. You hope Yoongi likes it, too. Because well, you like Yoongi. No question. You like him a lot.
Heâs been amazing these past few days, doting on you regularly as if youâre harboring a more serious disease and not just dysmenorrhea. He even came over once, offering you hot soup and even hotter kisses, before he had to go back to his studio.
You do wonder how to move things along. How to progress.Â
Seokjinâs birthday party seems like the perfect night for it.
The restaurant is glowing when you arrive. Low golden lights, crisp linens, florals arranged. Itâs full without feeling crowded, laughter spilling from every corner, wine glasses clinking softly. It feels warm and alive.Â
And then you see him. And if you wolf whistle what will his friends think of you?
Yoongiâs posted up near the bar in a dark suit that looks custom-made for ruining your panties. Terrible, really. His jet-black hair falls in soft waves like he woke up unfairly handsome on purpose. He flips his jacket backwards and plants his hands on his hips, flashing a gunmetal Valentino belt holding up pants you are already mentally kicking off him and onto the bedroom floor.
He turns the moment your gaze heats up the side of his face. And for a second, he just stares. Just looks at you like all the thoughts swirling in your brain are also swimming in his.
Then, his mouth curves into a slow, devastating smirk.
âFuck,â he says when you reach him, voice low, eyes unapologetic as they track you from head to toe. âYou look⊠unreal.â
You lean forward and press your cheek against his and you feel his arm circle your lower back lightly. A kiss would have been nice, but you think Yoongiâs not one for PDA, especially in a classy place like this.
âYou look hot. But I think you know that alreadyâŠâ you raise a brow, then glance down to the bartop where 11 digits and a name are written on a piece of napkin.Â
Huh.
Women move fast. But wait, heâs not embarrassed that you clocked this. Not one bit. This cocky mf wanted you to know that heâs been wanted.
His tongue skirts his bottom lip, failing to prevent a shit-eating grin from forming.Â
Was it to make you jealous? Because youâre not. But a twitch inside your chest and a little further south says otherwise.
Youâre still not saying anything, still locked in a staring match. Cat-like eyes study you from the rim of a lowball. Youâre unfazed, waiting for him to say or do something.
Suddenly, you see a flash movement from the corner of your eye. Jin, the man of the hour, spots you from across the room and makes a dramatic beeline over, grin wide and pleased.
âYou made it,â he says, eyes flicking briefly to your dress. âI was worried Yoongi would fuck things up before my birthday.â
Yoongi warns. âHyung.â
You laugh. âHeâs been a good boy. Mostly.â
The napkinâs still there.
âLies,â Jin says cheerfully. âBut Iâm glad youâre here.â
âWouldnât miss the birthday of Yoongiâs favorite hyung,â you reply.Â
âCareful,â he warns with a delighted grin, glancing between you and Yoongi. âYou know he has an older brother.â
âWell itâs not his birthdayâŠâ
âAh.â He wags a finger. âYouâre already my favorite guest.â
A heavy palm is deposited on Jinâs shoulder making him tilt sideways. âBehave, hyung.â
âI refuse.â
âThe place is beautiful,â you say, just to change the topic, smiling as you scan the room, but fully unaware of the staring match the two boys are having.
âYou fit right in,â Jin replies coolly and when you glance back he has a very sticky top 5 bachelor kinda grin waiting for you.
Hang on. Is Jin flirting with you right now? In front of Yoongi?
The stare your not-boyfriend is giving Jin could melt the polar ice caps. But Jin is non-plussed.
âCâmon⊠is it not my birthday, Yoongi-yah? Let me have my fun.â Jin says, eyes still bright with mischief.
Yoongi doesnât even look rattled. He exhales through his nose, something close to a laugh, and replies evenly, âHave all the fun you want, hyung.â Then, without breaking eye contact, he adds, âbut donât you have other guests to attend to?â
Itâs said casually, but Yoongiâs hand slips to the small of your back as he speaks, warm and firm, drawing you closer until your hip fits neatly against his.
Jinâs grin sharpens, reverting to you. âSee? Heâs learning.â
As Jin peaces out, you feel the press of Yoongiâs thumb at your waist, and it hits you then: how funny it is that earlier you clocked that napkin on the bar, the number scribbled like a quiet provocation. But standing here now, tucked into his side, you realize the balance has shifted.
If anyoneâs being quietly undone tonight, itâs him. And judging by the way his fingers flex once at your back, dipping a little lower, this evening is about to get a lot less polite, if you play your cards right.
âSo what was that about?â You move to sit on the bar stool, placing your clutch on the bar top.
âWhat?â
âYou and Jin, talking in telepathy. I noticed that too the first time you took me here.â
Yoongi sighs like he is already tired of talking to and about his hyung. You know itâs just poorly masked affection. âYou met at the magazine shoot, right?â
You hum.
âAnd he got your numberâŠâ
You nod.
Truthfully, you donât remember a lot about that day. It was a full day that started at 4 in the morning and Jin was the last of the lot when your energy reserves had almost whittled down to zilch. But still you remember the rack of delicious strawberries and the nice banter with Jin that came easily. He seemed like a solid guy so you didnât mind matching his vibe even though you were dead tired.
âYeah, I guess he said he needed a stylist for future projects.â
âHe, umm, gave me your number after that actually. Told me about this cute stylist that hummed my song who seemed pretty cool.â
âYour song?â
âEight. I produced it.â
OhâŠ
Your favorite song. Well one of. But still. Didnât you play it on your hiking date?Â
âThatâs amazing.â You quip, but then your smile twists into a pout. âBut you never texted me?â
âHonestly? I wasnât really looking to start something with anyone back then.â He exhales through his nose. âBut they kept pushing me to put myself out there.â
âFair.â
âJin-hyung loves to remind me that he found you first.â
âYou know, I do find him⊠handsome.â You dangle the last word just to see his reaction.
He shrugs it off. Casual. But certain. âDoesnât matterâŠâ
âIs that right?â
âHe may have met you first, but,â Yoongiâs leaning in close, lips brushing your ear just enough to send a shiver down your spine. âWe both know whoâs gonna fuck you first.â
Oh shit.
Food and drinks were amazing as to be expected from a Michelin star restaurant. And the company is also wonderful. Thereâs no awkwardness. No sense of being an outsider. Yoongiâs people greet you easily, already warm from your previous interactions. Namjoon pulls you into a conversation about wine pairings like youâve always been part of the group. Hoseok compliments your dress with zero subtlety and a dramatic hand to his chest. Jimin hands you a drink you didnât ask for but absolutely wanted.
Taehyung arrives fashionably late and immediately steals attention, but instead of hovering near you or Yoongi, heâs pulled almost instantly into chaos with Jungkook and Jimin. Within minutes, theyâre deep in conversation, already laughing like theyâve known each other forever.
Later, you catch Taeâs eye across the room. His grin is boxy and genuine.
You smile. Yoongi notices.
âLooks like your best friendâs doing fine.â
âYeah. Knew he would. Heâs a social butterfly.â
âAnd you? Are you having fun?â
âYeah,â you admit softly. âI really am.â
His fingers trace a slow, absent line along your waist, thumb brushing the edge of your dress like it belongs there. You lean into him, instinctive.
âIâm glad,â he says. âI want you here. With me.â
The words land heavier than he probably intends.
As the night winds downâdessert plates cleared, candles burning lowâyou find yourself standing with him near the edge of the room, his arm draped loosely around your shoulders, your hand resting at his side. Itâs comfortable. Intimate. Unquestioned.
You look up at him.
Heâs already looking at you.
âCome home with me tonight.âÂ
Itâs not a question, but the tiny raise of his brow tells you he is waiting for your response.
âYeah. Iâd love to.â
And finally It feels like the next chapter opening. The beginning of the part youâve both been craving for.
âYoongi⊠fuckââ
He pulls you back into his chest with a firm grip, one hand sliding possessively around your waist while the other tugs at the ribbons of your dress, fingers confident and unhurried as if he studied how quickly he can unwrap you all night. You wouldnât put it past him.
His mouth finds the slope of your neck, tongue dragging hot and slow against your skin, leaving you gasping before he latches onto the tender spot just above your collarbone.
Youâre so wrapped in the heat of his tongue and the low sounds he makes in your ear, you donât even notice the top of your dress slipping downâuntil the cool air hits your bare skin and his hands are suddenly there.
Warm palms cup your tits, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, letting it snag against his blunt nails. You whimper, hips canting back, and he groans at the sound, mouth moving to your ear. He sucks your earlobe between his lips, then lets it go with a soft pop, his breath fanning across your cheek.
Goosebumps rise all over your skin, and youâre falling apart with every single touch.
You donât know how you made it to his bedroomâyou donât even really know what it looks likeâjust remember stumbling backward with him chasing your mouth, pulling at your dress until itâs on the floor.
Heâs still fully clothed, but his eyes are dark and wild now.
You pull him back in for a kiss thatâs all tongue and teeth and breathless sounds. He groans when you bite his lip.
âYou look way too good in this,â you murmur, fingers curling lightly at his collar, tugging him close. âBut I want it off.â
You press your hands to his chest, feeling the crisp fabric of his suit jacket beneath your palms. You slide your hands up to his shoulders and push the jacket backward, watching it slip down his arms and drop soundlessly to the floor behind him.
He tilts his head. âYou wanna help me?â
âMmm⊠No,â you say, stepping back just a little, biting your bottom lip playfully. âI wanna watch you.â
He chuckles, the sound low and deep in his throat.
God, you need this moment to loop in your brain. Watching Yoongi undress for you may just be your favorite fucking thing in the universe.
He tugs the knot of his tie loose with practiced fingers and your mouth dries at the flex of his neck. You donât look away for a secondânot when he slides it out from under his collar, not when he lets it dangle from his fingers beforeâŠ
He drapes the necktie around your neck like a leash and pulls you towards him, your body following without resistance.
âMine,â he says and you draw a breath, kind of dumbstruck as he tightens the fabric just ever so slightly. You wear it like a medal.
Your eyes follow every motion as he pops open the top button of his shirt, then the next, and the next, each one revealing more milky skin, more of the toned planes of his chest. By the time he reaches the fourth button, youâre already reaching out, greedy and unable to wait any longer. You slide your hands under the open placket, pushing the shirt off his shoulders and down until it pools at his feet.Â
His belt and trousers follow, falling with a heavy clink. Heâs bare now, save for the black boxer-briefs clinging to his hips, a trail of hair disappearing and leading into a noticeable bulge.
Oh.
Your eyes rake over him shamelessly. âFuck you, actually.â
He raises a brow. âWhat?â
âYou made me wait so long,â you mutter, running your hands down his chest, over the pebbled tips of his dusky nipples. âI could just devour you right now.â
He grins. âWeâre here now, arenât we?â
You maneuver him onto the bed, letting the mattress catch his weight before you climb over him. He has this wry smile on his face, like heâs letting you do this, take command temporarily, and you have a feeling he's switching up on you when you least expect it. Still, your thighs straddle his hips, heat pooling low as you sink downâbarely clothed, but completely burning.
Your fingers twist into his hair as you rock against the hard line of him, both of you groaning into each other's mouths at the friction.
"Fuck, you feel so good,â he rasps, low and labored.
His hands are on your ass, your waist, your thighs, your tits, your hair, any surface he can grab on to. You donât know whatâs come over either of you. Itâs gotten frantic and uncoordinated fastâthe kind of desperation that only months of holding back could breed. You grind harder, now chasing your high shamelessly. But finally, he comes to his senses, planting both hands on your waist to ease you off his pelvis.
âBaby, stopâwe gotta slow down.â he says, voice strained but resolute. âPlease.â
You collapse against his shoulder, laughing through the burn of your need, body still thrumming. âOh my god.â
Because youâre both a mess. Slick with sweat and arousal, tangled in each other, like horny teenagers dry humping in your parentsâ basement with zero shame and zero game.
âThis is your fault.â You boop the tip of his nose with your index finger.
âHow is it my fault?â
You huff dramatically. âWhy didnât you fuck me on our first date? Were you not into me?â
âIt was the first date,â he replies, like that should be obvious. He really is such a gentleman.
âAnd the second?â you press, eyes narrowing.
âWe had raw fish,â he says flatly. âLots of it.â You donât know if thatâs a valid one, but you let it slide, because you want to hear his answers for the rest.
âThird? We literally made out in the club.â
âNah, you were out of it. I was, too. Wouldnât be right.â
âFourth?â you challenge, now counting on your fingers.
âIt was mid-workday,â he counters. âYou were still on the clock.â
You smirk, leaning in closer. âRather be on the cock.â
Yoongi groans, dragging a hand down his face. âJesus Christââ
âFifth date?â you fire back, unfazed. âYou were super handsy. Donât even deny it. Thought you were gonna finger me on the trail.â
âWas about to, yeah, if the maknaes didnât crash our date. Your body was insane in those leggings.â He licks his bottom lip, hands spreading over your thighs before giving the plush flesh a firm squeeze. âBut, you already know I strained my back from our descent.â
âThought it was your knees?â
âShut up,â he grits, tickling your sides, making you squirm. âBoth hurt like a bitch. I guess Iâm getting too old for it. And before you mention the sixth, I blame Taehyung.â
You nod, sighing. âI got my period too. Thatâs on me.â
Yoongi looks at you, voice suddenly softer. âWouldnât have minded if you really wanted it.â
You pause, eyes searching his. âYoongi?â
âDoesnât it help with cramps or some shit?â He just stares back, gaze quiet and sure. âI was reading something about it last week.â
Shit, why do you feel so shy?Â
âI donât even know what to say about that.âÂ
His fingertips trail the curve of your breasts, catching on your nipples and giving them a soft pinch that sends a jolt straight to your core. âTruth is? I didnât stand a chance with you. I would've given you anything you asked for.â
You're gushing again, breath shaky as you inch closer, lips brushing against his. âExcept your cock.â
âDonât dwell on the past, baby.â He smiles against you before he slides his lips fully against yours, hungry and messy, licking into your mouth like he is savoring the taste of you.
Air leaves your lungs when he sucks your tongue and continues to roll your nipples between his fingers, your hips bucking haplessly to feel the friction of fabric against your clit.
âYoongiâŠâ
âMm?â
âNeed you⊠need to feel you inside me.â
Yoongiâs eyes flash. He reaches toward the nightstand, but before he can grab what you know heâs after, your hand wraps around his wristâgentle but firm. A silent message.
âOh?â His brow quirks, a snarl unfurling. âYou nasty, huh?â
When he says it like that? Youâre a blushing mess, but you press on. âIâm on the pill. And Iâm clean.â
He licks his bottom lip once, before that infuriating smirk takes over. âGot it. You want it raw?â
âStop teasing me,â you whine, squirming against him, but heâs got you locked in his embrace. âI havenât fucked in so long Iâm basically a virgin againâŠâ
âYouâre soââ Yoongi lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. âYouâre insane.â
âI havenât fucked in so long I self-cleaned like a Roomba.â
He chuckles, lopsided and low. âOh, youâre just full of jokes tonight.â
âRather be full of cum.â
That earns you another groan. âNah,â he decides, eyes darkening. âYou know what? I think I need to have my fun first. You gonna let me?â
You nod, half-sure.Â
Then he tugs you gently by the tie still hanging on your neck, making you lock into his deep eyes. âDo you trust me?â
âYes.â
âIf it gets too much, letâs use a safeword.â
âSugar cube.â
âPerfect,â He nips your lip. âIâm gonna make you feel so good, baby.â
Before you can process what all that means, heâs moving youâeffortlessly maneuvering your body until youâre draped over his lap, ass up, like some bratty girl about to be taught a lesson.
Wait. Are you?
Shit.
You gasp as his palm smooths over your skin, gliding over the soft curve of your ass, dipping briefly between your thighs before moving back up. Just the weight of his hand, big and warm, is enough to unravel you. Then, he slips his fingers under your panties, grabbing a fistful of your flesh, squeezing it like a squish toy.
âFuck, this assâŠâ
You let out a breathy moan, loving the roughness, the way he handles you like youâre just his favorite plaything.
But thenâcrack!
He slaps the underside, quick and unexpected. You yelp, high-pitched and breathless, your hips jerking forward against the bed. The sting is sharp, and youâre suddenly feeling so fucking alive, Hs palm then cups the same spot, massaging it gently.Â
Then, another slap. Sharper. You cry out again, not from shock, but because of the force. Your hips twitch, because it hurts and your body is anticipating the ache. But once again, he follows with a slow, delicious rub that makes your tippy toes curl. Itâs messing with your headâthe strike and the soothe that follows.
âMy baby sounds so pretty like this,â he murmurs, voice rich with amusement. âYou like it, donât you?â
You bury your face in the pillow, breath catching. âFuck⊠yeah. I like it.â
âMm,â he hums, dragging his fingers along the curve of your thigh. âGood. Cos Iâm just getting started.â
You could die from anticipation and arousal. Thankfully, Yoongi doesnât make you wait long. He tugs your panties snug between your cheeks, the fabric biting deliciously into the heat of your skin. Itâs filthy, the way it exposes you even more, the way he takes his time to admire your body.
âYouâre dripping, babyâŠâ he murmurs, almost to himself. Like heâs marveling. Like heâs proud.
Of course youâre dripping, is he joking? But you bite your tongue since you are already in a precarious position. A whimper huffs out when his nails drag lightly, just barely, across your flushed skin. Thenâsmack!
Another sharp slap, perfectly placed, and the burn flares through your body like a live wire. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your breath ragged and a little desperate.
âGod damn,â he mutters, smoothing a hand over the mark, admiring his handiwork.
You groan into the pillow, aching, but aching for more. âYoongi, please.â
âDonât worry, baby,â he leans down, kissing your bruised backside gently. âIâm gonna give it to you, but can you take a few more?â
âYes, I want moreâŠâ You really do. Youâll even count if he asks. The need is overwhelming, to be so good for him. Like hisâ
âGood fuckinâ girl.â He pulls your panties down gently, making sure the lace doesnât drag across the redness.
But he is a menace, letting the fabric settle by your knees and not removing it all the way. His hand is splayed at the tops of your ass cheek, shaking it like he is wanting to go into hypnosis.
âI love your ass.â
âReally? I didnât noticeâŠâ
âDonât be a brat.â Yoongi chuckles, and another thwack lands on your cheek, the pain duller, but deeper. Itâs blossomed now, like a bruise you want to keep poking just to feel it again. Tears start to blur your vision but when you expect another spank, it doesnât arrive. Instead, a finger prods your slick folds and soon enough, his bony knuckles breach your entrance.
Fuck, finally. Fuck.
 A strangled moan escapes your parted lips.Â
Itâs relief. But itâs also unlocking a hunger, all-consumming and urgent, to take more.
His index moves in and out of you, while his other hand slaps and makes your ass jiggle. He adds his middle digit to your sloppy center, the squelches of being finger-fucked filling the room.
The feeling is unfamiliar, but divineâthis cocktail of pain and pleasure. Brain shutting down, you already know itâs not going to take long before you reach your peak.
You crane your neck to catch a glimpse of him. So fuckinâ sexy, his lips are flushed from being bitten, jaw tense with focus as he works your body with single-minded intent, determined to push you right to the edge of euphoria.Â
He catches your eye, still at it, then he tilts head, âStill trust me?â
âYesâŠâ
Youâre curious now. Like what other tricks does he hâHoly shit.
Suddenly his thumb is pressed against your rim, rubbing it in tight circles as his other hand continues to assault your pussy with his fingers.
âFeels nice.â You breathe out, mind melting in bliss.
âYeah? Wanna feel nicer?â
His thumb, glossy from the slick gushing from your cunt, slips inside your tight ring of muscle.
âAh shiiiit!â You wail, raw and animalistic, hips jerking reflexively.
What the hell? You donât expect the blinding rush of pleasure from being penetrated there.
âYoongi, fuckâ Iâm coming.â
And in the multitude of sensations, in the countless layered shades of want, need, and something deeperâyou hear the single thing that cuts through it all: his command.Â
âCome.â
Your body locks up, thighs trembling as your orgasm hits you, sharp and blinding, until it feels like stars are bursting behind your lids. The high is so celestial, it almost feels like you slipped out of your body for a second and came undone somewhere above. When you come down, every muscle melts at once.
Yoongiâs voice is the first thing that reaches you again, soft with praise as he lifts you gently from his lap and lays you down on your belly, careful and tender.
His pretty face comes into view beside yours, lying on his side. âHow was that, baby?â
â10 out of 10, no notes,â you slur, still drifting in and out of your zone, but locked in enough to ask for what you really wanted. âSo can you fuck me now?â
Brows scrunching, Yoongi lets out a soundless chuckle that makes his shoulders shake. âCan you even move?â
âNo⊠but you can hit it from the back.â
Yoongi doesnât answer, but his boxers disappear, thickened cock flopping against his soft tummy.
Look. If dicks had beauty pageants, Yoongiâs would take the crown. Long, with the kind of girth that makes your lips split just thinking about it; it leans just a tad to the right, curling enough to hit the spot. A prominent vein runs along the underside, flushed deep purple, leading to a tip thatâs glistening. Itâs the kind of cock that you need inside you, like yesterday.
Glad you didnât overreact. Actually, no. You do. You literally dive for it as if someone else might snatch it away any second, gripping his shaft with a little too much gusto. Yoongi groans from deep within his chest, before letting out an amused chuckle. Yeah, his ego has increased ten-fold with your antics.
You shimmy your body towards him, hoisting your body with both palms to make the cushion dip. You let a trail of warm saliva drip from your lips, coating his cockhead, before your mouth descends upon him in one smooth stroke.
âHell yeah,â he tips his head back, exposing the line of his throat and the tendons flexing in his neck.
Your mouth is watering again, making spit dribble down his length. Itâs disgusting how you're blowing him so sloppy, lips wrapping in a tight seal around his cock and slick fingers on parts you canât mouth over yet.
"Knew youâd be good at that," he murmurs, one hand scrunching your hair as he guides your gaze up to himâjust so you can see how much heâs relishing the way his cock bulges against your cheek. âYou dirty girl.âÂ
Maybe you too have tricks up your sleeves. In one fluid motion, your tonsils kiss his mushroom tip and you swallow, gagging against it, salty with pre-cum.
Chest heaving, Yoongi drops your hair to pool on the side of your shoulders as his breathing gets more ragged. âOh fuckââ
You bob faster, sucking the velvety skin at the base and keeping the suction until his head rubs at the roof of your mouth. Heâs so close, you can feel it in the stuttered cadence of his breathing. In the way his hips are lifting from the cushions, helping you take him deeper.
Do you? Should you� The question whether to finish him off like this is answered with a slight tug of your hair, before you ease off him with a wet pop.
You look at your masterpiece. His already huge dick seems to have grown in size, so hard it looks painful, the tip flushed an angry crimson.
He heaves a heavy exhale, as if he read your mind. âIâm fuckinâ close, but I been waiting on that pussy.â
âItâs yours.â You swipe a knuckle on the side of your lips, nodding. âHow do you want me?â
âJust like that,â he smirks. âYou donât gotta move a muscle.â
Yoongi hovers behind you, his palms smoothing firmly down your back, then eases up as it travels down the globes of your ass, still flushed and stinging from his earlier assault.
Lying on your belly, you gasp as he takes you from behind, cock still swathed in your saliva to plunge inside your sopping pussy with little to no resistance.
You squirm, cheeks still raw, stinging with every movement as he bounces against your ass. The pain is starting to feel addictive, but still your body writhes with each pump of his pelvis.
âRelax baby, I want it all the way in,â he presses a quick kiss on your shoulder, gentle as ever, before he bucks hard and bottoms the fuck out, taking you by surprise.
You scream, pornographic and loud. It hurts, but it hurts good, and your body is simply not yours anymore. Youâve relinquished it to Yoongi as every push of his cock drags heat around your every vertebrae, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
Yoongi sits on his heels and hoists your ass up, stuffing a pillow between you and his bed before heâs pounding you again.
The change of angle lessens the friction against your burning cheeks but it doesnât stay that way for long.
Like a man possessed, he pistons into you at a consistent pace, smack after smack landing on your ass before he grips you by the hips and really goes to town.
Your vision mists at the edges, the grip you have on his sheets tight enough to crumple the fabric as you hold on for dear life.Â
âYoongi⊠shit⊠YoongiâŠâ
âKeep saying my name like that⊠fuckinâ love it.â
âYoongi, I wanna cum so badâŠâ you babble. âPlease, baby, I canât take it anymore.â
âPlay with your clit, baby. Rub it for me just how you like itâŠâ
You slip a clammy finger between your folds, the motion of him rocking into you enough to stimulate your delicate nub deliciously.
You moan, twitching, already teetering on the edge of delirium. Every inch of your skin feels scorched, like youâd peel it from your bones if it meant finding the slightest relief.
And just when you think youâre spiraling too far to come back, it hitsâyour breath catches, chest tightening, airways constricting.
Yoongi yanks the necktie back, forcing your body into a perfect arch, spine bowed, helpless to anything but sensation. Â
âCome with me, baby,â he grunts.
You choke, already dizzy, lightheaded, then he thrusts deep, one final time, and releases.
His climax tears through him, taking you with him in a blinding crash as you feel the warmth of his cum flooding your walls. And just like that the grip on the fabric loosens, and air rushes back into your lungs like salvation.
Your body floats in a haze of something close to euphoria. Thereâs something warm and fluffy expanding in your chest, tingling across your skin.
Youâre unable to put it into words how perfect it is to be so thoroughly seen, touched, wanted by Yoongi.
And itâs not just the high of your multiple orgasms (though that was a beautiful bonus). It really is the ache in your ribs from breathless laughter, the tender kisses he plants on your forehead, the gentle way he hugs you tight. Everything else in the world is secondary.
You bury your face on the pillow, thoughts clouding your mind. When you open them again, Yoongi is already moving carefully around the room.Â
You wince slightly when the gentlest cloth dabs your skin clean. Heâs working quietly, just the soft sweep of fabric along your ass, your legs.Â
Then comes the shirt, placed over your head to replace the sinful accessory, and a loose pair of boxers he eases up your legs. Both smell like Downy and home.
Youâre quiet, too. Words unable to assemble and be spoken out loud, lest it breaks the fragility of the moment. So focused on after care, Yoongi brings a straw up to your lips. You blink at him, as cool water douses your ragged throat, and he gives you a look so tender it knocks the breath from your lungs.
âThank you, baby. You were perfect,â he says softly, brushing a kiss to your forehead. âSo good for me. Every second.â
He doesnât just kiss you onceâhe kisses your lips, your jaw, your collarbone, the hollow of your throat, the corner of your eye. Loving and gentle, not to stoke the dying coals, but to soothe and settle your fiery heart.Â
Eventually, he tucks you beneath the covers and slides in beside you, curling his body around yours. You donât even try to fight the sleep thatâs pulling you under as his arms wrap solidly around your waist.
And as you pillow your heads together in the quiet, you finally understand why this feels different, unlike anything with any other partner. This wasnât just sex. This is trust. This is respect. This is intimacy. Real and raw.
The kind you didnât think was meant for people like you. Until him. Until now.
EPILOGUE
Date no. 8: The Satin Pajamas
âWhat are you wearing?â You plant both hands on your hips.
âMy pajamas.â Yoongi responds, deadpan. Heâs reading a book, eyeglasses perched on top of his shiny button nose.
âLet me rephrase that. What are you wearing and why are you trying to seduce me?â
He smirks, still doesnât look up. âIâm doing no such thing, baby.â
The pajamas. Theyâre dark gray and satin and a matching set. Harmless, right? Wrong. Because the problem with this smooth, thin, satin is even if Yoongi is at rest, you can still make out his dick print.
And now you wanna make out with it.
âHow very dare you.â Youâre shimmying your own cotton pajamas down, leaving you in your panties. You have thoughts. And youâre leaning on acting on those thoughts. i. e. About the smooth glide of that fabric against your bare pussy. Fuck, youâre so hot and bothered for him itâs really embarrassing.
âFuck, this thing feels amazing.â You breathe out as you slide against his body, bare thighs brushing against his clothing.Â
He just chuckles.
You run your palms against his chest and when you see his nipples starting to perk between your digits, you plop your mouth on one and suck against the fabric.
The fuckinâ book finally closes and is tossed aside.
âShit your mouth.â
You nod. âMhm⊠where else do you want it?â
âYou know where.â
You slink down, mouth his cock against the fabric, your saliva making a deeper shade bloom against the satin. You hook your index on the garter and pull the waistband down for his pretty cockhead to pop out.Â
You lick him all over, do your best to take him deep enough to swallow against his tip.
Youâre getting into it now, determined to give him the motherfuckinâ head of his life when youâre yanked off his length.
âNah,â he says, like he just had a thought. âYou get up here and take your panties off.â
You take his spot by the headboard, crotch bare for him now. Heâs hovering over you, palms braced on either side of your thighs.Â
âI didnât get to appreciate this last night.â He says, lips trailing against his bottom plush, mere centimeters from your wet, aching cunt.
âThen appreciate it. With your mouth.â You suggest with a little smirk.
âBrat.â He delivers a quick little spank against your puffy lips, your legs closing on instinct against his head. âNope. Youâre gonna keep this nice and open for me.â
You show yourself again to him. A slow, torturous flick of his tongue against your clit and youâre unraveling in real time. His mouth suctions on your throbbing core, setting a controlled but dizzying pace which he alternates with long flat licks of his tongue. The realization that he kept his fuckinâ glasses on sends you skyrocketing. Youâre practically oozing now, drenching his sheets, and he just laps you up, drunk and high on that pussy juice, not wasting a single drop.
âYou taste so good, fuck.â
lick
âLove this cunt.â
lick
âWho owns this pussy?â
meow
Wait what?
You come face to face with green eyes and a Victorian collar.
And so it was your turn to ask: âWho owns this pussy?â
Yoongi surfaces from your depths, chin glossy as the black cat slinks towards him, tail swishing against your face, making you sputter out the fur that made its way in your mouth. Uh, rude?
âMe,â he says, giving the cat a little pat on the butt. âAnd the entire condo I guess. This is Tang-ie.â
âYou forgot to tell me you have a whole living creature in this house?â you ask, moderately scandalized.
âHeâs kind of an informal settler. Likes to hop from one condo to another,â Yoongi explains. âWe all kind of just pitch in if he chooses to stay with us.â
Tang is actually a really adorable cat, if he isnât staring at you like a tiger about to eat its prey. Itâs a little jarring, if youâre gonna be honest.
Yoongi is none the wiser. Just continues to pat pat his catâs bum bum, utterly distracted now. This man really has a fascination with spanking, you realize, wincing a little as you still feel last nightâs after-effects.
âYeah, um, should I leave you two alone, or?â
Yoongi eyes you before releasing a shoulder-shaking laugh.
You finally remember to close your legs. How embarrassing.
Yoongi carries Tang off the bed, setting the cat outside before he closes his bedroom door with a muted click.
âDonât be jealous of the cat, Y/N.â He says, sounding very matter-of-fact, as he pads back to the bed.
You roll your eyes, reaching for the blanket to cover your bare half.
âStop,â he says, snatching the gray blanket and tossing it on the floor. âWeâre not done.â
You curl in on yourself and face away from him.
Yoongi positions himself behind you, pressing his forehead against the back of your neck. âCan I eat you out now?â
You break your silence with a huff. âI dunno. Is it your favorite pussy?â
âOf all time.â he says, the smile apparent in this tone, adding. âI love it when my girlfriend is a little jealous.âÂ
The word hits harder than anything he said all night.
âIâm your girlfriend?â you ask, turning sharply.
He goes a little pink. âOhâuh, I meanâŠâ
You lean in, brushing your nose against his. âYeah,â you murmur. âI am.â
His smile comes slow this time. Not cocky. Not teasing. Just sure. Like heâs been holding the word in his mouth for a while, waiting for the right moment to let it live between you.
âMy girlfriend,â he repeats, softer.
And you let him.
You let him say it when he kisses you.
When he makes you come.
When he tucks you into his chest like you belong there.
My baby.
My girlfriend.
Mine.
You let him say it when the two of you sit cross-legged on the floor later, phones in hand, deleting Hookie without ceremony. Neither of you has any use for it now.
Because thisâsoft sheets, sore muscles, swollen lips, a soft-spoken man and his snobbish catâfeels nothing like a hookup.
It feels like the first love you used to imagine.
Soft.
Safe.
Certain.
And finally, itâs yours.
:)
A/N: Aaaand thatâs a wrap on H&B. Thank you so, so much for sticking with me through it all.
I have to say, this concept was a little hard for me to warm up to in the beginning and then it just started clicking. Planning the dates and correlating it with iconic Yoongi fits were probably my favorite thing about this series.
So what did you think??? See you in the comments and please reblog this with your review if you enjoyed. Itâs the best way you can show your support. đ
Thank you for reading you lovely, beautiful human xo
Lastly, I do take ko.fi if youâd like to support what I do. <3
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synopsis: jeon jungkook is a clean freak who canât stand dust, noise or the way you chew. youâre a mess who forgets bin days, leaves dirty laundry everywhere and hates the smell of his chicken breast smoothie. you argue in passing, coexist at a distance, and survive each other only because your schedules never overlapâhe works night shifts as a nurse, and youâre an underpaid teacher. until one night, they do. he comes home early. you donât expect him to. he walks into the living room, catching you with a wine glass, panties on the floor and a vibrator between your legs.
ᄫᥠpairing: nurse!jeon jungkook x teacher!female reader
ᄫᥠgenre/warnings: roommates au, e2l, control-freak x messy roommate, explicit sexual content, 18+ mdni, smut with plot, masturbation, oral sex, rough sex (with protection, doggy), dom/sub vibes, choking, spanking, degradation/dirty talk, exhibitionism, non-verbal consent
ᄫᥠwc: 5.5k
As usual, the blender starts at 06:02am exactly.
After nearly two years, your brain has learnt the exact pitch. Itâs the smell that does you in. The scent of warm, boiled chicken breast being murdered into paste. It creeps under your door, sits on your tongue, turns your stomach before youâve even sat up.
You lie there for three long seconds, staring at the ceilingâtrying to decide if you can call in sick from poultry-related trauma. You canât.
You shove the duvet off, hair sticking to your cheek, and swing your legs out of bed with the grace of a woman dragged out of sleep against her will. The floor is cold. Your eyes burn. Your throat feels dry because youâve slept too little and lived too loudly the day before.
The blender keeps going. You stomp to your door and yank it open. The kitchen lights are on, bright and rude. Heâs there, exactly where he always is at this hour.
Jeon Jungkook stands at the counter in his nurse uniformâscrubs that fit him offensively well, sleeves pushed up far enough that you catch the dark ink creeping along his forearm. A glimpse of metal at his mouth when he turns his head. He doesnât look tired. The blender is under one of his hands. The other hand holds the bottle.
You stare at him for half a second too long. Itâs annoyingâgenuinely irritatingâhow good he looks. A man who knows exactly what heâs doing with his hands. A man anyone would happily ruin their life over if he wasnât also the kind of person who wipes down the counter after pouring a glass of water.
He glances up, clocking your presence. âYouâre up,â he says, flat. âYour laundry is still in the dryer.â
âAm I up?â you reply, voice hoarse, purposely ignoring the last part. âI thought I was hallucinating the sound of a blender trying to break through the wall.â
His eyes flick to the doorway, then to your face. He gives you that lookâthe one people give to badly behaved children. It annoys you because youâre a grown woman who pays rent and buys her own groceries.
âItâs been there since yesterday,â he says, again.
âAaand?â You drag the word out. âItâs also a weekday. People are asleep. Some of us have jobs that donât involve terrorising innocent kitchen appliances.â
He looks down at the blender and he turns it off. Silence dropsâunfortunately, the smell remains.
You walk into the kitchen with purpose, which is mostly to stop yourself from walking into the wall. The tiled floor is cold under your feet. Your eyes flick to the blender jug without permissionâitâs pale, dense and horrifying.
âEw,â you say, disgusted.
He lifts one shoulder. âProtein.â
You reach past him for the bread because youâre already up and youâre already suffering, so you might as well suffer with toast. You shove a slice in the toaster, wait for it to pop, and take a bite.
His gaze snaps to your mouth. âCan you not chew like that?â he says, already reaching for a cloth.
You pause mid-chew, stare at him, then chew louder, with your mouth open.
Jungkook wipes the counter in front of you like youâre shedding crumbs by breathing. He catches a few that fall and wipes again immediately, as if the crumbs have personally offended him.
âItâs disgusting,â he adds. âAnd youâre eating before youâve even brushed your teeth.â
âOh my God,â you say, still chewing.
He doesnât stopâJungkook never stops once he starts. âAll that bacteria just goes straight into your stomach.â
You swallow. âFuck off.â
His jaw shifts. âBrush your teeth.â
You take another bite. âYouâre such a heter,â you mutter, passing him for the bathroom. You make sure your shoulder bumps his on the way through, just to be petty.
He doesnât move, not even flinch. But his gaze drops to where your shoulder touches his chest for a fraction of a second, like youâve burnt him. âDonât touch me,â he says.
You stop in the doorway of the bathroom and look back at him. âOh, sorry. I forgot you only let Dettol touch you.â
His jaw shifts. âYouâre not funny.â
âYeah? Tell that to my class. They think Iâm a stand-up comedian. Mostly because theyâre laughing at me, but still.â
He picks up his bottle and starts rinsing the blender jug. âYou left a bowl in the sink last night,â he says again without looking at you.
Itâs way too early for his nagging. You stare at the back of his head. âI left a bowl in the sink because I ate dinner like a normal person and then I fell asleep. At night. Like someone who doesnât work the hours of a vampire.â
Jungkook turns around and looks you up and down onceâa quick assessment that manages to make your skin tighten. âMake sure you leave the bathroom window open and turn the fan on.â
You pause. âWhy?â
âSteam,â he says, clipped. âMould.â
You laugh once, without humour, and shut the bathroom door hard enough that the frame rattles.
When youâre finally ready for the day and tugging your shoes on by the front doorâbag slung over your shoulder, keys in handâ his bedroom door opens.
Jungkook steps out shirtless, towel looped around his neck and another in his hands. His hair falls in wet waves on his forehead. Water glistens on his chest. His tattoos are more visible like thisâdark lines disappearing over his ribs, into places you donât get to see.Â
You hate your body for noticing. For scanning. For imagining.
He looks at you and his gaze lands on your shoes first, then your bag, then your face. âBins,â he says.
You blink. âWhat?â
He nods towards the door with his chin. âItâs bin day. Take them down when you get back.â
âYou love bossing me around,â you say.
âYou love needing it.â
You swallow your comeback because you donât have time for a full-scale war before work. You also donât have time to stare at his chest, so you donâtâmaking sure your eyes behave.
âFine,â you say. âIâll do it.â
âGood.â One beat. Then, almost as an afterthought: âDonât forget.â
You grab your keys tighter. âI wonât.â You step out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind you.
Today has been miserable. You get home with your keys already digging into your palm, jaw tight from clenching it all day.
The flat greets you the way it always does when Jungkookâs been through itâoffensively spotless. No shoes by the door unless theyâre lined up. No mug in the sink. Not even crumbs. The air even smells cleanâthe scent of the very specific disinfectant he likes.
You toe your heels off and kick the door shut behind you.
Your eyes land on the hallway mirror. You look like youâve been chewed up by fifteen-year-olds and spat back out again. Hair escaping your clip, mascara smudged at the edges, shoulders slumped. Your throat hurts from talking over classroom noise. Your head is full of the headmasterâs voiceâtargets, targets, targetsâlike you can single-handedly bully kids into better grades with worksheets and hope.
Your phone vibrates in your pocket. Another email. Another deadline. You donât even check it. You exhale and drop your bag to the floor.
The bins.
He told you this morning. Bin day. Donât forget.Â
You glance at the kitchen corner where the bin lives. âI wonât forget,â you mutter out loud.
You walk past it anyway, telling yourself youâll do it in a minuteâafter youâve had a shower; after your shoulders stop feeling like theyâre made of stone; after you remember the feeling of being in your own skin.
You strip your clothes off in the bathroom, step under the water, and let it hit you hot. It loosens something in youânot the stress, not really, but the surface of it. The day washes down the drain in pieces: students arguing over calculators, the constant low anxiety of exams, the headmasterâs tight smile that never reaches his eyes.
You press your forehead to the tiles and breathe.
When you step out, towel around your hair, your body feels lighter and your mind feels emptier. Better. Not fixedâjust quieter.
You donât even bother with dinner. The thought of standing in the kitchen, choosing food, chewing, washing upâit all feels like too much effort for a Friday night youâve earned through sheer survival.
So you go for the only thing that doesnât ask questions. Wine.
You pull the red from the cupboard and pour yourself a glass thatâs a little too generous. No oneâs here to comment on the amount. No oneâs here to tell you to use a coaster. No oneâs here to wipe the counter behind you the second you turn away.
Jungkookâs meant to be on nights. Heâll come in at stupid oâclock, make his disgusting smoothie, glare at the state of the world, and go to sleep. Thatâs the arrangement. Your lives brushing past each other like strangers.
You take the wine to the sofa, drop down, and turn on Netflix. Something mindless with attractive people and predictable problems. You let it play while you drink and let your body unclench.
Halfway through the film, two characters start kissing. Hungry kissingâhands in hair, mouth open, bodies grinding against one another.
You swallow a mouthful of wine and stare at the screen for a second longer than you mean to. Itâs beenâwhat? Eight months since you got laid? Maybe longer. You canât even remember the last time someone elseâs hands were on you with intent.Â
You shift on the sofa. Your damp hair sticks to the back of your neck. Your skin feels too awake all of a sudden. That restless, irritated ache that sits low in your belly and refuses to be ignored.
âTired, stressed, horny,â you mutter. âAmazing.â
You take another sip, bigger this time, as if you can drown the feeling. It doesnât work.
Your gaze flicks to the hallway. To your bedroom. To the drawer you keep things inâthe drawer you pretend isnât important until nights like this, when your body starts demanding attention.
You stand up.
The film keeps playing behind you, the actors going at each other. You walk to your room, open the drawer, and pull out your vibrator. You pause with it in your hand, considering your bed. The problem is the wine. The glass you left on the coffee tableâalso the fact that you donât want to get up again once you start and youâre already too keyed up to be patient with yourself.
You go back to the living room.
You stand there for a moment, looking at the sofa, then at the glass, then at the corridor again. As if Jungkook might suddenly appear and scold you for existing.
He wonât. Heâs at work.
You sit.
Leather under your thighs. Cool at first, then warming. You set the vibrator on the cushion beside you and take a gulp of wine that burns a little on the way down.Â
âWho cares,â you whisper, more to yourself than anyone. âItâs my sofa too.â
Your fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. You slide them down, step out, and kick them away without thinking. They land near the coffee table, a soft pile of fabric that would make Jungkook visibly twitch if he saw it.
You sink back into the sofa, the leather sticking slightly to your bare thighs, and grab the vibrator. The wine's buzzing in your veins, making everything feel a little sharper and dirtier.Â
You flick the toy onâthe low hum is too loud in the flatâs quietâand spread your legs to press it against your clit. The first vibration jolts through you, and you bite your lip to stifle the gasp that wants to escape.
Fuck, it's been too long.Â
You donât have patience for slow. Your hips shift instinctively as you circle the tip over your folds. You close your eyes, letting your head fall back. That's when your mind betrays you.
Jeon Jungkook. That asshole with that metal at his mouth and his infuriating control.Â
You imagine him in the kitchen, not blending his stupid chicken breast shake, but pinning you against the counter instead. His handsâthose dry-knuckled, impatient hands that scrub everything spotlessâdigging hard enough to bruise. Him yanking your panties down your hips.Â
"You canât do anything clean, can you?" he'd growl, voice annoyed as usual.Â
But he'd be hard against you, pressing between your arse cheeks as he bends you forward. Your face pushed against the cold countertop.
You slide the vibrator lower, pushing it inside yourself with an easy glide. Your breath hitches. Fuck, it feels good, but it's not enoughânot like how it would feel to have him shoving your thighs apart with his knee.Â
One of his hands fisting your hair to keep you arched, the other undoing his pants. You can almost feel the length of his cock before he thrusts in with no warningâstretching you open until you're gasping, gripping around him like you'd never let go.
"Fuck, Jungkook," you whisper, the name slipping out desperate as you pump the vibrator faster.Â
The buzz is sending shocks up your spine. Your free hand claws at the throw blanket, bunching it up, while your hips buck against the toy.Â
Jungkookâs relentless. His balls are slapping against your clit with every snap of his hips. His tattooed arm wraps around your waist, fingers finding your clit and rubbing circles that make your legs shake.Â
"Take it," heâd mutter, breath hot against your neck, his ring scraping your shoulder as he bites. "You want this, don't you? Acting like a brat all day just to get fucked like one."
The image burns behind your eyelidsâhis sweat-slick chest pressed to your back. The wet sounds of skin on skin. The way your pussy would grip him until he's groaning your nameâlosing that perfect composure.Â
Your toes curl into the carpet, thighs trembling as the pressure builds in your core. The sofa is pooling with your juices. You're so close, chasing the edge where everything explodes.
âJungkookââ you moan, louder.Â
One more thrust in your mindâhim slamming home, grinding deepâand you're there, body arching as the orgasm rushes upâ
A throat clears.
Your eyes snap open. The vibrator is still buried inside you, still buzzing as your hand freezes. Your heart slams against your ribs; your breath caught in a choke.
He's there. In the doorway. Jungkook, in his scrubs, staring like he's walked into a nightmare. His jaw is clenched. His grip tightens on the strap of his bag.Â
You yank the toy out with a gasp, thighs snapping shut. You scramble for the blanket, face burning. "Oh my God," you stammer, voice wrecked. "It's not what it looksâfuck. Okay. It is exactly what it looks like."
He doesn't say a word. Just swallows hard, gaze dropping for a split second to your discarded panties on the floor, then away. He turns on his heel, and you can then hear his door slamming.
You want to die.Â
Youâve pulled on a fresh pair of panties. The cotton is soft against your still-sensitive skin. Your shirt is tugged down over your hipsâtrying to erase the last fifteen minutes.Â
You have cleaned up the living room's crime scene. The vibrator is safely stashed back in your drawer. Youâve wiped down the sofa and the throw blanket has been haphazardly folded. Your abandoned wine glass is rinsed and set in the drainer.Â
But none of it helps settle the pulse under your collarbone.Â
You stare at his closed door from the hallway, chewing the inside of your cheek until it stings.
This is stupid. You should let it blow over, pretend it never happened. Youâre adults who share a flat and nothing else.Â
But the silence from his room feels heavier than usualâand you know that if you don't deal with it now, it'll turn worse. Awkward glances in the kitchen, him wiping surfaces longer than necessary, you slamming cabinets louder than needed.
Your bare feet pad across the cool floorboards. You knock twice and immediately regret it. There are shuffling sounds from inside, muffled footsteps, and then the door cracks open.Â
He's changed out of his scrubs into loose sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt that clings to his chest. His hair's pushed off his forehead, and his eyes are narrowed at you with that familiar edge.
"What?" he says, voice clipped.
You shift your weight, arms crossing over your chestâas if that might shield you from the humiliation crawling up your back. "Can I come in?"
He doesn't move at first, just stares. Then he steps aside with a sigh, letting the door swing wider.Â
You slip past him, careful not to brush against his arm, and the room envelops you. Itâs clean, almost sterile, with the faint scent of his body wash hanging in the air. Itâs crisp and minty and it makes your stomach twist.Â
It's the first time you've been in here, and it's exactly what you'd expectâbed made with military precision, sheets tucked tight, no stray clothes on the floor. His desk is against the far wall, a sleek gaming setup taking up most of itâdual monitors, a keyboard with RGB lights turned off, headset draped over the back of the chair. There is a framed anatomical diagram on the wall that screams nurse vibes.Â
No clutter, no personality spilling outâjust freakishly controlled, like him.
You head straight for the swivel chair at the desk. You spin it around to face him and drop into it, knees pressed together because the bed feels too intimate. He closes the door behind you with a soft click, leaning against itâarms folded, waiting.Â
The room feels smaller with both of you in it, the air thicker.
"Look," you start, forcing your voice steady even though your throat's dry, "about what you walked in onâit's not what you think. I mean, it is, butâI didn't know you'd be home early. Youâre always on nights and never earlyâandâand yeah."
âThey moved my shift,â he says. âRoster change. I got sent home.â
âAnd you didnât think to text?â
âI didnât think it mattered.â He pushes off the door and takes a step closer. His expression remains unchangedâbrows furrowed, mouth a flat line. "I also didn't ask for an explanation."
"Yeah, well, I'm giving one anyway," you snap back, heat rising in your cheeks. "Because now it's awkward as hellâand I don't want you thinking I'm some kind of exhibitionist or whatever. It was privateâyouâ you weren't even supposed to see that."
"Private in the living room?" He scoffs, voice low. He moves to stand by the bed, hands shoved in his pockets, posture rigid.
You roll your eyes, swiveling the chair a little to face him fully. "Oh, come on. Like you've never done anything in a common area. The flat was emptyâor I thought it wasâannd don't act like you're scandalisedâwe're adults, okay?"
"I'm not scandalised," he mutters, gaze flicking to the floor, then back to you. "Justâdidn't expect it."
Thatâs when your eyes drop, unintentionally, to his sweatpants.Â
The fabric's loose, but not loose enough to hide the outline straining against it. The unmistakable bulge that's impossible to ignore now that you've seen it. Your breath catches, a fresh wave of heat, mixing with the embarrassment.
"Are you horny?" you ask, voice quieter than you mean it to beâyour gaze lifting to his face.
He goes still and doesn't answer. But you see itâthe flush creeping up his neck, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. His hands flex in his pockets, and he shifts his stance, trying to adjust without admitting it.
You lean forward in the chair, heart hammering. "Is it because of me?"
Silence stretches, until you can't take it.Â
"If it's my faultâI can take care of it. For you."
His eyes snap to yours, but he doesn't move nor speak.Â
You push the chair forward with your feet, wheels rolling silently across the floor until you're right in front of him. You slide off the seat, knees hitting the rug with a soft thud, and look up at him.
You wait for the rejection, the bickeringâthe get out or you're annoying or any of the usual barbs that fly between you.
He doesn't say a word. Just stares downâbreath coming a little faster, chest rising and falling under his shirt.
Your hands tremble slightly as you reach for him, palms pressing against the bulge. Heâs hard under your touch. Jungkook hissesâa sharp intake of breath that sounds more like pain than anything, but his hips twitch forward, betraying him.
Still no words.Â
You hook your fingers into the waistband, tugging it down slowly. His sweatpants part, and you slide your hand inside. You palm him through the thin layer of his boxers. The fabric's damp at the tip, and he groans low in his throat.Â
His head tips back against the wall with a thunk, eyes squeezing shut. His cock is throbbing, veins pulsing as you stroke him firmly.Â
"Jungkook," you murmur, your own arousal building again.
Youâre slick between your thighs despite the fresh panties. You tug his boxers down, and he springs outâthick, flushed, the head glistening with precum beading at the slit.Â
You lean in, wrapping your lips around the tip, tongue swirling to taste the salt of him.
He gasps. One of his hands comes to grip the edge of the desk beside him, knuckles whitening.Â
You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks. You bob slowly at first, then faster. His free hand tangles in your hairâfingers flexing as you suck him harder, your hand stroking what doesn't fit. His thighs tense under your other palm, and you feel his cock swell on your tongueâtwitching with every flick against the underside.
His breathing turns ragged, hips starting to buck into your mouth. Sweat beads on his neck, trickling under his shirt. His face is flushed, lips parted as soft curses slip outâtoo low to catch fully.
You pull back when you feel him throb harder, close to the edge. Your lips are shiny and swollen as you look up at him, meeting his gaze.Â
"Jungkook, do you have any condoms?"
For a beat, he just staresâpupils are blown wide, chest heaving.: âI really canât stand you,â he says eventually.
âThen donât,â you whisper.
âYouâre a mess,â he spits. âYou make everything worse.â
âAnd you still want me,â you say, breathing hard.Â
Thatâs all it takes for his hand to shoot out, fingers wrapping around your throat as he hauls you up, crashing his mouth against yours. The kiss is all teeth and tongue. His piercing is cool against your lip as he devours you, tasting himself on your tongue.Â
His other arm bands around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His cock is still hard and pressing into your stomach, smearing saliva and precum on your shirt. The grip on your throat sends sparks down your spine. Your nipples harden against his chest through the fabric.Â
You taste the faint mint from his toothpaste mixed with the salt of his skin. Your fingers dig into his shirt, bunching the fabric as you kiss him back.
He breaks the kiss first, pulling back to look at you. His breath comes out in hot puffs against your lips. "You sure about this?" he asks, like he's forcing the words out past whatever restraint he's clinging to.Â
His grip on your throat loosens, fingers trailing down to your collarbone instead.
You nod, swallowing hard, your own voice shaky but certain. "Yeah. I want this. Do you?"
"Fuck yes," he mutters.
âThis doesnât mean I like you,â you murmur back.
âGood,â he says, mouth on your neck, âI donât need you to.â
His hands slide under your shirt, draggin up your sides and tugging the fabric. You lift your arms without thinking and let him peel your shirt over your head. The cool air hits your bare skin and makes your nipples pebble instantly. He tosses the shirt aside, gaze dropping to your chest.
âTry not to sanitise me,â you say, with a giggle.
âTry not to ruin my sheets,â he grins back.
You grab the hem of his t-shirt and he helps, shrugging it off in one fluid motion. His chest is right there, inked skin glistening faintly from earlier sweat. You run your palms over his pecs, down to his abs. He's built solid, every ridge and dip warm and firm.Â
"What are you even made out of?" you breatheâhalf-laughing, half-awed, as your fingers trace the lines of his tattoos.
He smirks, but it's strained, like he's barely holding back. "Condoms," he says, nodding towards the nightstand. "In the drawer."
âYou plan for everything, huh?â you say, glancing over.Â
But he beats you to it and leans across the bed to pull one out. âI didnât plan you,â he says, foil packet crinkling in his hand.Â
While he's distracted, you slip out of your panties again, kicking them off. You then tug at his sweatpants and boxers, shoving them down to his thighs.
He kicks his pants the rest of the way off, tears the packet open with his teeth, and rolls the condom on with quick movements.Â
You watch, thighs pressing together, your clit throbbing. "Come here," he says, grabbing your hips and guiding you onto the bed.
âYouâre always telling me what to do,â you say, already crawling back.
âAnd you always do the apposite,â he answers, not letting you get far. He flips you onto your stomach with surprising ease, his hands strong on your waist. "Like this.â.
Youâre positioned on all fours, knees sinking into the mattress. You arch your back instinctively, ass up, and feel the bed dip as he kneels behind you.Â
"Ready?" he asks. His hand slides between your thighs to check, fingers slipping through your folds. He finds you soaked. He groans at the feel, circling your clit once. It makes you jolt. "Shit, you're so wet."
"Yeah, well, you interrupted me earlier," you shoot back, voice muffled against the sheets.Â
He chuckles, then lines the blunt head of his cock to your entrance. "I wonât let it happen again."Â
He pushes inâinch by inch, stretching you open with a burn that's equal parts pain and pleasure. You gasp and he stills for a second, letting you adjust.Â
His breath is ragged behind you. "Fuck, you feel so fucking goodâso tight," he grits out, like he's fighting not to move yet.Â
You feel him throbbing inside you, every twitch sending sparks up your spine. "Move," you beg, pushing against him. "Please."
He doesâpulls out almost all the way, then thrusts back in hard; the slap of skin on skin echoing in the room.Â
You moan as he sets a rhythm, his cock dragging against that spot inside you with every stroke. Youâre flooded by the stretch, the friction, the way your walls clench around him.Â
His hands roam. One slides up your back to press between your shoulder blades, keeping you arched. The other gripps your ass. Then his palm comes downâspanking you once.Â
Heat blooms across your skin, and you yelp. But it's good, the pain twists into pleasure.Â
"Is this okay?" he asks.Â
You donât get the chance to answer before he does it again, harder this time.
"Yesâfuck, yes," you gasp, rocking back to meet his thrusts.Â
He's pounding into you and you feel him filling you up. His sweat drips onto your back as he leans over you slightly, breath hot on your neck.
"Iâm so closeâto cumming," your voice breaks.Â
The edge is right there, building with each drag of his cock.
"Not yet," he growls, and suddenly stops.
He pulls out completely, leaving you empty and whining at the loss. âI hate you,â you say.Â
âNo, you donât,â he says.
Before you can respond, his hands are on you, flipping you onto your back. The mattress bounces as he hooks your legs over his shoulders, folding you nearly in half, and slides back inâdeeper this time, the angle hitting new places that make stars burst behind your eyelids.
"Oh fuck," you cry out, hands scrabbling at his arms, nails digging into his biceps.Â
He's looming over you, face inches from yours. His eyes are locked on your face as he starts thrusting again, each one punching the air from your lungs. His cock is buried to the hilt, grinding against your cervix.
"I want to see you while I fuck you," he says, one hand bracing beside your head, the other holding your thighs in place. "I want to watch you when you cum on my cock."
Tears prick your eyesâfrom the pleasure crashing over you in waves.Â
He notices, thumb brushing under your eye. He flicks a tear away gently, his expression softening for a split second amid the heat. "Is this too much?" he checks, slowing his pace for a fraction.
"Noâdon't stop," you plead, shaking your head, hips lifting to urge him on. "I feel so good, Jungkook."
He nods and picks up speed again. His face twists with effortâbrows furrowed, lips parted as soft grunts escape him. Sweat slicks his forehead, dripping down his temple. You feel the tension in his thighs, the way his abs clench with every movement.Â
"Iâm close," he warns. "Fuck, you're squeezing me so hard."
You cum firstâvision blurring as it rips through you. Your whole body shakes, walls fluttering around him in pulses that make you sob his name. "Jungkookâyes, fuckâ"
He follows right after, burying himself with a groan. He spills into the condom, cock twitching inside you. His arms tremble, holding himself upâbut then he collapses forward, weight pressing you into the mattress.Â
The both of you are panting, slick with sweat.
He pulls out carefully, tying off the condom and tossing it towards the trash. He then flops back on top of you, face buried in your neck. His heart hammers against your chest in time with yours.Â
For a moment, it's just thatâexhausted quiet, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back, feeling the muscles relax under your touch.
Then sis hand slides down your body, fingers finding your clitâstill sensitive and swollenâand he starts circling it slowly.Â
You jolt, a whimper escaping as fresh sparks ignite. "Jungkookâwhatâ"
"Iâm not done yet," he mumbles against your skin.
He lifts his head to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, tongue flicking over the peak. His other hand squeezes your breast, thumb rolling the nipple until it's hard and aching. He takes turns switching sides, mouth latching onto each bud.
Pleasure builds again, faster this time, your body oversensitive from the first orgasm.Â
His fingers on your clit speed up, pressing firmer. He leaves marksâsucking hickeys across your breasts, red blooms that sting under his lips. His hand knead the soft flesh like he can't get enough.
"Jungkook, Iâoh fuck," you gasp, hips bucking into his hand, tears threatening again from the overload.Â
It's too much, too good, every nerve ending lit up.
"Come on," he urges, voice muffled against your skin, lifting his head to watch your face again. "Come one more time for me."
You shatterâbody convulsing, a cry tearing from your throat as the second orgasm hits. Itâs harder than the first, leaving you trembling.Â
It's the best you've ever had, waves crashing endlessly, your mind blanking out.
He slows his hand, easing you down. Jungkook then pulls you close as you both catch your breath.Â
"Holy shit," you whisper finally.
He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Yeah."
âDonât get smug,â you mumble, leaning into to him.Â
âDonât get sentimental,â he answers immediately, wrapping around you.
You lie there for what feels like hours, bodies slick and spent. The room smells of sex and sweat and that faint body wash scent from his skin. Your limbs feel heavy, every muscle humming from the aftershocks of what has to be the best fucking of your life.
His arm is draped over your waist, chest rising and falling against your sideâand for the first time since you met him, the silence between you isn't loaded with tension. It's comfortable, almost.
"Did you take the bins down?" he asks suddenly, still panting a little. His voice muffled against your shoulder.
You blink, brain sluggish, then it hits youâthe morning reminder, the one you'd blown off in your post-work haze. "Oh, shit, I forgot."
Jungkook scoffs. The familiar edge creeps back in, but there's a playful glint in his eyes as he shifts. He rolls on top of you again, pinning you with his weight. His elbows bracket your head.
"Now, what shall I do to get rid of those bad habits of yours?"
ᄫᥠmain masterlist
a/n: hi hi hi my loves!! thank you so much for reading. just a note that i wrote this in one night while ovulating (like this is prolly the freakiest thing i have written in my life), and i've been trying to edit it for the past two days, but i'm in the middle of a raging migraine (day 3 of it now yayyy for me), and when i get my migraines, i genuinely cannot function. so ik there are a lot of spelling/grammar errors, and i will try to go back and edit again when the migraine decides it had enough. also, smut is not my best genre, so please do leave me feedback/constructive criticism on where i can improve! (but also pls be kind i have a soft heart). as usual, your comments, reblogs and asks mean so much to me and really fuel my fingers! much love <3
â ËËË Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader
â ËËË Summary: Youâre horny af one night so you login to your fave hook-up app for a quick fix. You match with Min Yoongi, expecting a cocky rapper with a filthy mouth, but instead, you get a soft-spoken man in a designer shirt and a gummy smile. He keeps asking you out, but thereâs no kiss, no sex, nothing. Each date winds you up tighter than the last, your patience (and your lingerie) hanging by a thread, and now you canât tell whatâll snap first: his restraint or your self-control.
â ËËË Genre: Fluff, smut, strangers to lovers, non idol
â ËËË Warnings: 18+ MDNI, eventual smut...
â ËËË Chapter Warnings: Someone is wearing a Tank Topâąïž, Someone is a Grade A Meddler, Yoongi ponders committing murder towards this someone several times, real ARMY would know the iconic move in this scene, minor talk about blood, mention of pain kink, overuse of the pet name âbabyâ, kissing, grinding, ass-man Yoongi agenda lives on!
â ËËË Word count: 4.2k
â ËËË Betaread by: Tea and Aqua. Thank you, my loves!
â ËËË Notes: Here it is yâall. This has some tooth-rotting fluff because these two just live rent-free in my head and theyâre playing house already. Yoongiâs POV was so fun to write. Now you know MC's not the only one whoâs hot & bothered. Enjoy~
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Date No. 6: The Fuzzy Sweater
Yoongi gets home earlier from his work trip than scheduled and doesnât tell you. The reason is embarrassingly simple: he wants to see your face without warning, wants to catch you in that soft little smile you always give him when youâre not braced for it, wants to stand on your doorstep and feel you, his baby, fold into him like itâs the most natural thing in the world.
And tonight? Yup, heâs bringing that pack of Trojan gathering dust in his nightstand. Itâs about damn time.
Usually heâd opt for a simple t-shirt and jeans, but when he opens his closet, there is a secret weapon staring back at him. He takes the hanger out and sets it atop his bed.
So he showers, gives the patch of trimmed hair down there an extra rinse, and changes into the sweaterâthe fuzzy stripey one. The one that turns him into a walking, talking plushie. When he slips it on, oh yeah, it feels so fuckinâ nice. Itâs super soft. Stupidly inviting. He knows what heâs doing. If you touch it (him), heâs not responsible for what happens next.
Min Yoongi. Master of Seduction!
He drives over with his heart in his throat and his stomach tight, already mentally choreographing how your reunion would go. He imagines you opening the door, your shock melting into happiness, he imagines pulling you by the waist, your arms going around his neck before you even think about it. He imagines kissing you hard then youâll giggle and say wait, come inside. And heâs gonna take that literally, cumming inside your warm, wetâŠ
Fuck. He needs to get it together.
By the time heâs standing at your doorstep, heâs practically vibrating with anticipation. He shoves a hand inside one of his jean pockets and adjusts the semi sitting at an awkward angle against his boxers.
Tongue pressed to the back of his teeth, palms a little sweaty, he raises his fist, knocks once, twiceâand breathes.
When the door opens, everything goes to hell.
It isn't you at the door.
Nope.
It opens to a guy. A tall guy with annoyingly good hair and a face that would be punchable if it werenât⊠honestly, pretty.
Yoongi stares at him. The guy stares back.
Who the fuck is this dude?
There is a ringing in his brain that sounds awfully like a hundred cymbals crashing all at once. He feels something unpleasant twist in his chest, sharp and territorial, the kind that makes his pulse spike and his expression flatten. Heâs about to lose his shit, actually.
The guy blinks again, slow and unbothered, like he lives there. And the fact that he is wearing a fuckinâ tank top, half-soaked and clinging to his chestâŠ
Yoongi feels his blood pressure rise by ten points.
Seriously.
Who. The. Fuck. Is. This. Dude.
The guy in your doorway looks him up and down, casual as anything, and asks, âUh⊠are you Yoongi?â
Oh, hold up. He knows. Yoongi opens his mouth to respond, something neutral and normal lined up on his tongue, until movement behind the stranger hits the corner of his eye.
You appear.
Completely wet.
Hair dripping, cheeks flushed, white T-shirt plastered to your breasts like a second skin⊠the stuff of his fantasies. He sees the outline of your bra and his mouth dries up so fast he probably needs to lick some of the moisture on your face to hydrate.
Interestingly, despite the suspicious optics, your smile is not a guilty smile. Not a caught-fucking-another-guy smile. Just bright and unbelievably happy to see him.
But Tank Topâą is still there, raising his bicep to lean on the doorway, arm pit hair now pointing menacingly at Yoongi and for one horrible, dizzying second, all Yoongi can think of is: Oh. Iâm killing this dude. Iâm absolutely killing this dude.Â
âYoongi!â you gasp, lit up from the inside, and you cross the space between the two of you immediately, throwing your arms around him. Huh. Just like he imagined.
Your body hits his fuzzy sweater and he feels the cold instantly, but he doesnât even care because youâre hugging him so tight he forgets how long itâs been. And then you kiss him, firm, warm, in the mouth. So eager he forgets his name. But heâs frozen in place and of course you notice.
âWhatâs wrong?â
Whatâs wrong? Whatâs wrong is he almost nuts at the sight of you in that wet fuckinâ t-shirt.
And also, who the fuck is that guy? Thatâs whatâs wrong.
Yoongi jerks his gaze back to the dude, still standing there, still damp, still too close to you.
The stranger lifts his brows like really?
You blink, finally remembering introductions.
âOh shit! Sorry. Yoongi, this is Tae, my best friend. He lives across the street. Tae, this is my⊠umm. Yoongi.âÂ
Youâre blushing furiously. Itâs not lost on him that you werenât able to put a label on who he is in your life and Yoongi feels the strongest need to fix that. My Yoongi sounded nice, though, heâs not gonna lie.
Then finally you address the elephant in the room, gesturing to yours and your friendâs drenched bodies. âThis is what happens when your shower decides to explode. He came over to help me fix it.â
Yoongi feels like an idiot. A relieved idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. You did tell him you were not interested in anyone else. Hehe.
You slide your arm through his, completely oblivious to the mental gymnastics youâve put him through in all of five minutes. âCome inside, baby. I didnât know you were already in town.â
Baby. That word hits him like a warm hand on the chest and his jealousy drops several notches instantly.
You tug him in and he follows without resistance. You help him out of this jacket. And even as he walks past Taehyung, he gives him one last sidelong glance, competitive without meaning to be.
âIs it fixed?â Yoongi asks, standing in the center of your living room. Cause if it is, he can leave, right?
Taehyung grins. âYeah, itâs done.â
âTae is great with tools,â your head pops up from behind the fridge door, before you close it shut with your hip. âVery handy.â
Oh heâll show you handy. He once installed six bidets in one day. Yoongi pulls at the collar of his sweater a bit. Pretends he didnât hear those damn praises aimed at another man lest he overheats again. Yoongi knows he is phenomenal with toolsâheâs gonna have to show you some time. Maybe thereâs a loose door hinge somewhere. He will be on the lookout. Trust.
âWeâre binge-watching Physical Asia today, Yoongi.â your sweet voice interrupts his thoughts. âYou should join us.â
Taehyung scratches the back of his neck. âNah, I should go.â My guy. At least he has the decency to know when to fuck off.Â
âItâs fine. Baby, itâs fine, right?â You turn to him, balancing three bags of chips across your chest and a bowl of salsa on top and Yoongi just nods like a bobblehead even though he wants to scream HELL NO.Â
âIâve been hanging out with Yoongiâs friends, too. Honestly, you should meet them, Tae. I feel like youâll get on with them quite well. Especially Kookie and Chim.â
Kookie and Chim! How did those dipshits get a nickname? Oh yeah, they added you on Insta. Guess youâre friends now, which is actually kinda cute. Yoongi gets distracted for a moment before he remembers where he is.
Taehyung takes the salsa bowl from you and places it on the coffee table, while you set the chips beside it.
âIâve spinach dip also, any takers? No? Okay, Iâm heading upstairs to change. Tae set the TV up. Iâll get you a clean shirt.âÂ
One with sleeves, Yoongi hopes.
When the sound of your footsteps fade, Taehyung turns to him. âYou okay, man?â
âMm.â Yoongi sits on the couch. âGood.âÂ
Yeah, this is not how he planned this day to go. But he pretends heâs not embarrassed. Pretends heâs not already plotting how to reclaim every inch of your attention the moment you two are alone again.
Because god, he missed you.
And now that heâs hereâfuzzy sweater and jealous heart includedâheâs not letting anyone else stand in the way! Not a fuckinâ chance.
Yoongi plucks his phone from his backpocket from getting squished between his buttcheek and the cushions and places it on the coffee table.
The screen lights up and itâs just a notification from the Boy Scouts GC, so heâs ignoring that because itâs probably just Hobi talkiâ
âThatâs a nice photo of Y/N.â
Shit, he forgot to change his lock screen! Idiot!
Yoongi retrieves his device, replies as coolly as he can manage. âYeah, uh, itâs from when we went hiking,â he mutters as he changes the lock screen back to something far less incriminating: the Samsung Default wallpaper.
Tank Topâą is still grinning at him like the cat that caught the cream. Just to add insult to injury, he quips, âYeah, I heard you pulled a muscle or something. Was it your leg, or your back?â
âIâm fine now, thanks.â
âWe go way back, Y/N and I,â Taehyung says casually, slouching backwards like he owns every piece of furniture in your house. âShe used to have the fattest crush on me in collegeâŠâ
Yoongiâs brain: If I stab your best friend with chopsticks, will you still like me?
âIâm kidding. Weâre almost siblings at this point,â Taehyung smiles, raising his brow. âOh you look like youâre about to swing.â
âDo I?â
âShe likes you, you know.â Taehyung says, and Yoongi would be lying if he said that didnât make his heart soar. âBut sheâs never had a boyfriend before and Iâd hate it if her first one turned out to be a real douchebag.â
Wow. Shots fired. Heâs protective. Not hostile. But definitely testy⊠and still talking.
âLike, if they strung her along for shits⊠Wasted her time⊠Yâknow what Iâm sayinâ, dawg?â
Yoongi inhales, keeps his eyes on the TV, because he can already imagine how your best friend is looking at him. The side of his face is burning with the heat from Taehyungâs gaze.Â
âLook, man,â Yoongi finally responds and makes eye contact against his will. âIâm not here to play games with her.â
Taehyungâs nodding, curious.
Honestly, this is so fuckinâ uncomfortable for Yoongi that he almost wants to yeet himself out of your house. Like being interrogated by not your father was not on the agenda, but heâs not backing down.Â
âIâm not messing around with her. Just takinâ my time because she matters to me. Thatâs it.â
Taehyungâs brows rise, not mocking, not teasing this time. He nods once. âAlright.â
Yoongi doesnât smile, but the tension on his shoulders loosens just enough that if someone were watching closely, theyâd see it.
âI wonât snitch about the lock screenâŠ.â Taehyung snickers.
That kinda makes Yoongi laugh. Kay. Maybe he isnât too bad after all.
 âWant a beer, hyung?â
Yoongi nods. âSure.â
Just then, you thunder down the stairs, bright and sunny and carrying a tee, totally unaware you just walked into the tail end of a territorial pissing match cosplaying as polite getting-to-know-you.
Thing is, when you come down, Yoongiâs soul lifts because of your cute little fit.
A stripey cotton long-sleeved sweater (kinda matching his, actually and you know what that means in SK).
But then thereâs your piece de resistance.
The tiniest lounge shorts designed to give him the biggest erection.Â
Yoongi thinks you play dirtyâusing your fashion expertise as a weapon and he is so damn weak for it.
You drop onto the couch beside him, leg grazing his slacks and he has the most severe need to press any part of his bare skin against your plush thighs that his hands almost start to tingle.
Taehyung hits play and the show is on. Honestly, itâs a very interesting show. He knows Kook has been obsessed with it since Season One. But Yoongi is very much distracted. He occupied himself with nachos to keep him from doing inappropriate things.
Mid-way into the first episode, you pull out a throw from one of your ottomans and shake the blanket out to drape across your lap. You offer him one side and say, âHere, letâs share.â
Yoongi is chuffed as hell, because getting under a blanket with you, he can enjoy your warmth and maybe, just maybe, he can let his fingers wander. Then he sees Taehyung helping himself to the other corner and the plan goes to shit. SMH.
At least he finally has something covering those damn arms.
So now the blanket stretches across all three of you, a compressed row of body heat. Grrreat.
Yoongi tries to be super normal and 110% chill about the fact that your weight is settling so nicely against him, your fingers even start stroking the fine hairs by the sleeves of his sweater like you are meant to.Â
It feels nice like this. Almost domestic. But because Yoongi is apparently a caveman with zero control over his urges, he feels the tips of his fingers quaking at the thought of stroking the skin on your inner thighs.Â
Youâre none the wiser. Just vibing, happy, watching and talking about the show.
But of course, your bestfriend knows. Taehyung fucking knows the chaos inside Yoongiâs mind.
Taehyung leans back, one arm casually draped over the backrestâbehind you. Not touching you (because he doesnât have a death wish), but close enough that Yoongiâs entire nervous system lights up like an electrical fire. Taehyung tilts his head daring Yoongi to make a move or else.
Yoongi has two choices: This is war or this is war.
Subtle, trying to remain dignified, Yoongi slides his arm behind you on the couchâmirroring Taehyungâs, but is instead claiming the space and setting his palm on your shoulder. Taehyung retracts his arm joyfully and leans the opposite way, even ridding himself of the blanket.
Your pretty eyes flick up at Yoongi, lashes fluttering in that surprised but welcoming way as you snuggle closer to him.
Taehyung is smirking at the TV and Yoongi wants to murder him and thank him in the same breath.
The night wears on. Yoongi has knocked back three bottles on a fairly empty stomach at this point, so heâs feeling a little more subdued.Â
Yoongi laughs to himself, remembering Kook who loves to say that phrase. Maybe you were right that your friend groups would get along.
âReal quick hyung, letâs try that!â
Yoongi replies, neutral. âWhy would I want to?â
Your face lights up instantly. âOH MY GOD PLEASE DO IT.â
âNah,â Yoongi mutters. âNo dice.â
âCome on,â Taehyung grins, eyes gleaming with mischief. âI go low, just lean back on me. So easy.â
âThatâs not even what theyâre doing,â Yoongi argues, but Taehyung is already standing up, stretching his back, rolling his shoulders like heâs preparing for limbo.
âAbsolutely not,â Yoongi says.
âAbsolutely yes,â Taehyung counters.
Yoongi shoots him a look, but Taehyung, who apparently has no sense of danger, takes him by the wrist and pulls him upwards.
You clap your hands before you take your phone out, obviously wanting to document this catastrophe waiting to happen.
Dead. Yoongi is actually dead. He sighs, long and suffering. âFine. ONCE.â
Taehyung brightens like he just won a prize. He squats and bends. âOkay! Hyung, lean your back over me and we lock armsââ
Yoongi stares. âI changed my mind.â
âBaby, don't be a coward,â you say in a sweet, but teasing voice, and that does it.
Yoongi steps into position, butt to butt with your best friend before he leans back tentatively, awkwardly, like a man preparing to die for the woman he lovâwait, who said that?
âCâmon hyung,â Taehyungâs voice shakes him out of his reverie. âJust trust me.â
Yoongi clenches his jaw and shifts his weight backward and suddenly Taehyung locks an arm under his and bends, and Yoongiâs feet are off the ground.
âOH MY GOD,â you squeal, filming everything with your phone. âYouâre actually doing it.â
âWHAT THE SHIT!â Yoongiâs voice cracks, sprawled like a starfish as he stares at your ceiling.
Yoongi continues to screech like a water buffalo. âFuckkkâput me downâmy sweater is riding up! TAEHYUNG-AHH!!â
Youâre laughing so hard you canât breathe, tears in your eyes, as Taehyung finally lowers him back onto the carpeted floor. Then, somehow, Yoongi starts laughing too, joining both of you back on the couch.Â
âWow, hyung. Youâre very bendy.â
You high five Taehyung before you wiggle your brows at Yoongi in a mock-sleazy way, ending it with an exaggerated wink. âYouâre not the only one whoâs flexibleâŠâ
âAyoooo!â Taehyung hollers and laughs like a hyena.
Yoongi bites his lip to suppress a smile. âQuit it.â
Because this âdateâ couldnât have gone any weirder, Yoongi wakes up the next morning with only fragments of memory. Him being spun around by Taehyung while tipsy. Your lovely smile and your supple thighs under the blanket. After weeks of long work hours, exhaustion finally won. He mustâve fallen asleep on the couch at some pointâhe can feel it in his neck, the dull ache of an unfamiliar pillow.
Then he becomes aware of something else.
You stir against him, lifting your head just enough to look at his face before settling back down, cheek pressed to his chest. âHi baby,â you murmur, already smiling.Â
âHi,â he mumbles, voice rough and heavy with sleep, eyes barely cracking open. âHowâd you sleep?â
âSo well. I thought I was hugging a cloud.â
That does something to him. Something quiet and deeply satisfying. He exhales, one arm tightening around you without thinking, palm resting flat against your back like itâs always belonged there.
This wasnât his idea of a sleepover. But why does it feel so right?
He blinks again, more awake now. The room is bathed in early morning light, and finally, no sign of Taehyung. Just you and him and this bliss.
âGuess I make a good pillow,â he says, voice low, still lazy.
âYou do,â you hum. âTen out of ten. Would swipe right again.â
He lets out a tiny huff, fingers brushing absently through your hair. Youâre even prettier in the morning, when your cheeks are puffy and your eyes are a little droopy and your tummy is⊠growling?
That was loud.
âBetter feed your pet,â Yoongi jokes.
âYahhh,â you say, burying your face deep into his chest again like youâre trying to go inside his heart. (News flash: you already might be.)
âCâmon, letâs get you some foodâŠâ
âYeah⊠Mâstarving,â you admit, though you make no move to get up.
He tilts his head down, presses a gentle kiss to your hair. âShall we make breakfast?â
You groan but smile, finally untangling yourself from him. He watches you pad toward the kitchen, still in those shorts, and now the only thing in his brain is: that ass.
âYou coming?â
âMmh, give me a second.â Yoongi frowns at his crotch as his muscles tighten.
When he looks up, youâre observing him, and thereâs mischief in the way you mouth, âPerv.â
He narrows his eyes. âItâs morning. I canât fuckinâ help it.â
A little later, youâre side by side at the counter. He cracks eggs while you rinse fruit. He canât help but thank his lucky stars that this normal, gentle thing is now part of his life, and he wants more of it, more of you.
âCâmere, babyâŠâ
Your weight sinks against him just right, the couch dipping under the shift as you straddle him. His fuzzy sweater traps your warmth, your thighs bare against his trousers, and his brain latches onto the sensation of your softness, your scent like itâs something to catalogue and revisit later.Â
His palms travel the smooth expanse of skin from your leg up, higher, higher towards your ass, squeezing with both hands without restraint. Your hips roll forward instinctively as you continue to devour his mouth.
Your lips make their way down his jaw, towards the sensitive skin under his ear. He exhales through his nose, slow, measured, pretending this is normal. Pretending he hasnât been imagining this exact moment for weeks.
âI need you to ruin me,â you mumble in between sliding your tongue against his neck. Wet. Messy.
âYeah?â
Fuck! This is itâŠ
Your fingers slide into his hair and he makes a low sound before he can stop himself. You kiss him again, sloppy and decisive. Soft sucks, teasing bites, and slippery swirls. He can tell you were feral, and he loves it so damn much.
Yoongi is about to let you have your way with him when suddenly, you shoot up from his lap.
A trail of curses follows you as you disappear to the bathroom leaving Yoongi baffled. Did he do something wrong? He suffers for a solid 10 minutes before you come back wearing sweatpants instead of those cute shorts.Â
âSorry, baby. Iâm about to be unbearable, so I might need to kick you out.â
A fly could enter his mouth right now and he wouldnât notice.
You sit on the opposite chair, crossing your arms over your chest. âTMI, but I just got my period, soâŠâ
âYou need me to go to the pharmacy?â
You smile. âItâs okay. I will ask Taehyung to drive me later.â
Yoongi places a fist atop his heart. âYou wound me.â
âWhat?â
âYou think some blood and whining will spook me.â
âYou have not seen me in the throes of pain, Yoongi. Trust me. Itâs better this way.â
Yoongiâs ears perk at that. Partially because you said something about pain and thatâs something he likes to dabble on. But thatâs a conversation for another time.
âGet dressed, weâre going to Olive Young.â
âNo, thank you.â
Wordlessly, Yoongi stands up and goes to your coat closet. He wears his baseball cap and takes his jacket and zips it up while you watch with watery eyes, because you seem to think he is leaving.
When he is all bundled up, he takes yours, the white puffer with brown fur trim and walks over to you. He takes your wrist gingerly and slides your arm on one hole before you get the picture, slipping on the other by yourself.
He stands in front of you, zipping it all the way up to your neck, then pulls your hair free where it bunches at the back, smoothing it down with careful fingers.
Then he decides his cap would look better on you, so he places it on top of your head. Cute.
Keys dangling on his index, he gestures to the door. âReady?â
Olive Young is a labyrinth so Yoongi tails you like a puppy, because he could seriously get lost in all these hypnotic beauty aisles.
You make your way to the female wellness section and he decides to take his phone out.
A box of something pink catches your eye, and you tuck it under your arm.
Yoongi looks at the shelf strip and types.
âAre you answering emails? You can sit there and wait if you want.â You purse your lips, pointing to that little bench near the elevator where two guys (boyfriends, presumably) are waiting for their girls.
âAh no,â he shows you his screen where heâs been listing the things youâve put on your basket. âFor future reference.â
Your face twists into something unreadable and then suddenly youâre hugging him, cold-mottled cheeks squishing against his black puffer. Then, he hears the tiniest sniffle.
âDonât cry.â He says it gently, thumb brushing under your eye. There isnât much there, just a twinkle in your eye youâre trying to blink away.Â
You shake your head against his chest. âIâm not. I justââ You exhale, shaky. âThat was really sweet.â
âAish..â His arms come around you properly then. One hand settles at your back, the other resting over your hair, fingers threading through gently. You fit there too easily. Like youâve done this before. Like youâre supposed to.
Between you pulling on his jacket and crying into his chest over something so small and human, something in him solidified. But he canât tell you yet.
He rests his chin lightly on the top of your head, eyes unfocused, heart doing something dangerously earnest.
âIâve got you, baby,â he murmurs, not even sure if you hear it amidst the store chatter and the kpop song blasting in the speakers.
When you pull back, cheeks still flushed, eyes fonder now, you smile at him like you did.
And Yoongi realizes, with a quiet certainty that settles deep in his bones, that heâs not going anywhere.
He just hopes you arenât either.
Date no. 7 >
A/N: Soooo⊠whoâs gonna tell me these two arenât the cutest? Starting a list of who wants to fuck H&B!Tae because yâall know heâs a stud.
Anyway, last chapter is in the works and youâll get a one-way ticket to Hong Kong and that's on me. (I canât believe this is about to end. I'm already feeling the sepanx.)
If you enjoyed reading, please leave me a note or reblog with your review. Itâs the best way you can show your support. Thank you for reading you lovely, beautiful human xo
"Taehyung shows you a spell which makes your strap function like real cock, then asks you to fuck him with it and he knows exactly how he wants it to happen. He's going to be the one getting pounded, but he'll drive you fucking crazy in process."
â Requested by all of you through a poll â
Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x Witch!Reader
Genre: established relationship!AU, Magic!AU, Smut
Warnings: this is nasty porn besties, Dom!Taehyung who takes the dick, whiney sub!Reader, sex magic, her strap functions and looks like real cock, i'll also only refer to her strap as her cock/dick, and i'll use gender neutral nicknames, so i think that male readers can have a blast with this one as well <3, in some way this is a first time for her, blowjob, deep throating, snowballing, cum eating, handjob, frotting, multiple orgasms for both, anal sex (Tae receiving), hole stretching with cock, cowboy position, praise, dirty talk, Tae calls himself her "bitch", strength kink, he pins her down by her wrists, bro he needs to leave me alone fr, the biggest cum kink, a lil bit of spit kink too, scent kink, subby tears of pleasure, creampies, belly bulging, cum leaking, squirting, i'm telling you this is the cum kink story, once again this is so filthy and nasty, this is both gentle but also rough fucking, they're both done afterwards, loving aftercare, they're kinky and in love
âI canât tell a difference. I guess heavier?â you shift from one leg to the other, looking down at your own crotch, âI can feel that thereâs something between my legs. Itâs tangling.â
âItâs nice, is it not?â
âItâsâŠ.itâs different.â
You look up, expecting to meet his eyes, but you donât. He is mesmerised by your cock and how it sits so heavily between your legs.
It was hard once, made out of silicone with no possible chance of softening. And then you spoke the magic words. The words he showed you and practiced with you until they finally worked. And oh how they worked. Your once hard, unmoving silicone dick softened and melted with your body until it was part of you. Now made out of flesh and with feeling in it. The colour doesnât quite match your skin tone because the dildo was a few shades warmer than your real skin, but it somehow makes it look even sexier. Part of you for one night, so perfectly in place even if it was once impossible to fit. It is so wonderfully arousing to Taehyung.
âDarling?â
âMhm?â he lifts his head and with it, his eyes.
âYou stared.â
âBecause I want youâ, he says and draws closer. His big hand comes to touch your waist, his eyes race over your features obsessively. His pupils are dilated, âhow is it for you? Truthfully.â
âWeird?â you say and chuckle shyly, âI canât decide yet. I feel a weight between my legs, itâs tugging down a little. I never felt like this before.â
He lowers his lids playfully, whispering his next words.
âShall I take the weight off of you?â
Your stomach tingles, your hands come to touch his bared chest. Clothes arenât necessary anymore. You had to undress for the spell naturally and Taehyung never wore more than just some jockstraps. Not to forget the golden necklaces around his neck and the emerald earrings adorning his ears. He looks so sexy and his words make you want him even more.
âMhm darling? I can do it for you, carry the heavy burden in your steadâ, he offers, drawing tingling circles on your waist with just his fingertips.
âHow would you do it?â you ask for the sole reason of wanting him to show you.
âCan I show you?â he asks, looking deep into your eyes.
âYesâ, you allow him, feeling mesmerized by him.
The deep connection remains as Taehyung lets his right hand glide down your body until he can let it disappear between your legs. He cups your heavy balls and soft cock. His hand is so big that all of it fits inside his palm.
Warmth.
You let out a shaky gasp, closing your fingers on his chest in a needy grasp. You can actually feel his touch. It is right there, between your legs, cradling what once wasnât part of you, but what now feels so achingly needy for more.
Taehyung bounces your heaviness in his palm gently.
âLike thisâ, he whispers.
âTae, this isâŠoh godâŠâ
He needs to hold back right now. He dreamt of holding your cock ever since your magic was discovered. It is difficult to go slow right now because all he craves is to fuck you senseless. But he knows better. He knows that this is new to you, that you never experienced such sensations before and that every step taken too quickly could be overwhelming for you.
So he cradles you, bouncing you in his safe hand while his left hand caresses your waist. You keep tensing your abs. He feels them tighten under his thumb each time he brushes it over them.
âDoes this lessen the weight?â he asks in a whisper.
âFuck, it just make it worseâ, you breathe out as you speak, resulting in your words to swirl over his skin. Your breath smells minty. Taehyung matches with you.
âIt does? Where is it worst?â he asks and opens his palm to reveal your cock to him. He keeps his hand under it, carrying it safely so he could trace it with his left hand. His fingertips brush over your balls first, outlining them, âthere?â
You throb softly, growing just a little in his palm.
âTae, this isâŠâ you get out and exhale shakily, looking down. There is so much heat rushing to your groin. You genuinely never felt so much fucking heat between your legs. Itâs insane and itâs somehow getting more and more, the longer he is tracing your cock.
âOr is it there?â he asks, dancing his finger up your shaft.
More warmth. So much warmth. How easy is it to get so heated up? Why is it so easy? He barely did anything and you already feel like burning up.Â
âOr maybe there?â he asks and presses his finger against your tip to draw circles on it.
âWoahâ, you gasp, flinching away from him so harshly you actually slip out of his hold.
He stares. You stare. The heat between your legs throbs. It throbs so bad that it is almost painful. With every throb the weight seems to grow and at the same time get less. The tug downwards decreases while the heaviness of your balls somehow gets more. It is so impossible to describe.
You look down. You are hard. The view is familiar to you because you had a lot of hard dick in front of you already, but tonight is different. Tonight it is truly connected to you. Your skin blends into that of your erection and you know for a fucking fact that the blood you feel throbbing inside it, is your very own.
âTaehyung, this is fucking insaneâ, you let out, shaking your head in disbelief.
âI know and it is so bloody arousingâ, he says and closes the distance between you and him until he can trap your hard cock between your bodies. You feel how he bends it up and how it gets squished between your tummy and his crotch. His clothed cock presses against your bared one, sharing warmth. The fabric of his jockstrap is soft and rough at the same time.
âWait Tae, waitâ, you try to flee again because this is actual insanity, but Taehyung doesnât let you. He keeps you pinned to him with his hands on your hips, silencing your worrying by kissing your neck. You heart flutters, but you barely feel it because all you can concentrate on is the heavy throbbing between your legs each time his lips touch your skin.
âHoly fuck Tae, please justâ, you gasp and tremble, pushing at his chest softly, âjust give me a second, please.â
âI amâ, he promises you and takes a step back, âtalk to meâ, he says, holding your hands. He caresses your knuckles with his thumb, looking at you with adorning eyes.
âIâ, you squeak out and stumble back, âI need to just take a moment. This is a lot. Holy fuck.â
âHey, Iâm here, heyâ, he gasps and holds your hands tighter to prevent you from falling, âsit down, itâs safer to sitâ, he offers and lifts you atop his bed. It is a very high bed and because he sat you down quite far up the mattress, it results in your feet tangling in the air. He gets between your legs, towering over you just enough that you have to tilt your head to make eye contact.
âTalk to me. Is it not your taste?â he asks, caressing your upper arms slowly. His eyes race between yours, looking so utterly attentive.
âItâs justâŠ.a lot. I donât know. I feel so fucking hot between my legs. Is that normal? What if the spell didnât work correctly? I feel every throb, Tae. Itâs so hotâ, you say with serious eyes.
Taehyungâs gaze softens. He chuckles fondly.
âWhy are you laughing? Iâm serious, Tae.â
âI know, gosh I know. Please forgive meâ, he says between giggles, cupping your cheeks to caress them gently, âit is just thatâŠmy darling, this is how an erection feels like. You are simply horny.â
âButâŠbut itâs so hot. Like, so hot.â
âI am aware.â
âThatâs normal?â
He nods his head.
âYou feel like this every time you get horny?â
âYes.â
âTae.â
âWhy?â
âThis is awful, oh my god, I might actually burst.â
Taehyung laughs, scrunching his nose up as he does.
âDonât laugh, Iâm actually suffering.â
âPlease forgive me, but you are just so adorableâ, he says.
You huff out air, frowning at him with a pout. His gaze softens, his hands brush down your arms soothingly.
âI can make it betterâ, he offers.
âYou can?â you whisper, feeling flutters in your stomach.
âI canâ, he breathes and brushes his fingers over your cockhead. Just a feather light touch, but it still felt intense to you.
You moan, rolling your hips up to chase him. Another touch never comes, even more intense heat remains.
âJust tell me that you want to continue this and I willâ, he adds.
âI doâ, you say and add a word you never meant more than right now, âplease.â
His lips curl into a proud smirk, his eyes lower playfully.
âGet on the bed, rest back against itâ, he orders.
You follow instantly, pulling your legs up on the mattress so you can move to the middle of the bed and rest back into the heap of soft pillows. They engulf you, allowing you to be comfortable and still sit up enough that you have a view of your lower body. Taehyung joins you on the bed, kneeling down next to you.
He guides his hand down your torso, tracing your inner thigh next. You throb, sneaking a glance at him to see if he also noticed. He meets your eyes.
âNeedy?â he asks.
âDid you see that?â
âI did.â
âTae, itâsâ, you shift impatiently, âitâs so hot.â
âI know darling, I knowâ, he says and wraps his fingers around the base of your cock, âand so heavy as well. Darling, you are so heavy in my hand.â
âDonât tease me. Pleaseâ, you wanted to order him, but it only comes out as a beg. Of course it does. You are so madly horny right now.Â
Taehyung was the one to introduce you to the idea of experimenting with sex spells. For now, you have already perfected a spell which enchants ropes to make it impossible for even vampires to break through them. Another spell controls his orgasms and make it impossible for him to climax without your magical allowance. Your newest spell is this one right here and it is definitely messing with your sanity the most. You are so horny that you can barely even think.Â
âPleaseâŠâ
âPlease what, darling?â Taehyung teases, tickling your inner thigh gently.Â
âDo something please.âÂ
âSomething? Like this?â he asks and lowers himself to your cock, flicking his tongue over your tip gently.
You flinch again.
âHoly fuck.â
âHow was that?â
âWet. Holy fuck.â
âYes, tongues tend to be wetâ, he is teasing. Of course he is.Â
âTae, pleaseâ, you whine, wiggling your legs, âI canât take your attitude right now. Please.â
He chuckles, âadorableâ, he whispers before swirling his tongue over your tip. Once. Twice.Â
âTae, oh god. This is insane, seriously.â
âYou taste so good, darlingâ, he whispers.
âI can feel every fucking word you speak. Holy fuck.â
âYouâre so needy. Itâs adorable.â
âTae. Holy fuck.â
He chuckles, wrapping his lips around you.He takes only your tip inside and gives it one suck, then lets it go with a bop of his lips. He rubs them against your tip, giving you small licks.
âHoly fuckâ, you gasp, bucking your hips in sync with your fingers tangling in his hair.
Taehyung moves his head with it, preventing your cock from slipping into his mouth. He chuckles. The vibrations force you to squeeze your eyes shut in a full face scrunch.
âTae, what the fuck. What theâŠactual..f-fuck.â
He slips off of you again, laughing deeply.
âI havenât even done anything yet.â
âOh godâŠâ
âYou are adorableâ, he says fondly and climbs between your legs. He lies down on his tummy, draping his arms over your thighs so he could support himself on his elbows and then he takes your cock between his fingers again. He moves closer, connecting his lips with your balls by nuzzling his entire lower face between your legs. He purrs deliciously, breathing in your sensual musk as his hungry lips suck on the sensitive skin of your balls.
âHoly fuck.â
You try to say something else. Seriously, you do. But you canât think of any other words. He barely hasnât done anything yet and you are already too dumb to speak.
His purrs vibrate against your skin. It feels electric and goes so deep, you swear you can feel it in your bones. His lips are soft and wet from his drool. His tongue is even wetter and feels ten degrees hotter on your skin. This is impossible to handle and so you squeeze your thighs around his head, grasping his lower arms in a desperate plea for help.
âMhhm darlingâ, Taehyung comes up for air, âyou smell like sex. Truly, I want to devour you.â
âTaeeeâ, you whine, pulling a face of devastation.Â
He moans hungrily, dragging his lips up the thick vein on the underside of your cock until he has your frenulum under them. He purrs, opening his mouth to stick out his tongue and grind the flat of it against it.
âTaeâ, you whimper, grabbing strands of his ebony hair. You know how his tongue feels. You know how wet and hot it is against your bundle of nerves and yet the knowledge still doesnât make it easier right now. You should know how good he feels, but you still canât believe this is happening. This feels so much different than on other nights. This starts off on your tip like fire and crawls down your entire length until it spreads through your legs. Â
Taehyung loves how your thighs shake under his arms and how hard you tug on his hair. His scalp stings, motivating him to ruin you even more. You should know how it is to be sucked off. You deserve it. You deserve to have your balls worshipped until they are dripping in saliva, you deserve to have your frenulum licked until it is swollen and you deserve to have your every inch fucked by tight throat until you are throbbing painfully. Taehyung wants to make sure that you experience everything because everything is what you deserve.
He sticks out his tongue further and opens up farther, letting your cock sink into his mouth. He moans as he swallows you, basking in the high-pitched squeaks you let out. You begin chanting in whispers.
âOh god, oh god, oh god.â
Deeper. Your chants grow in pitch, as they do in volume, the tension on his hair increases. Taehyung moans. His lips meet your groin, his throat bulges from your cock.
âOh g-god Taeâ, you yelp and thrust your hips up as the unfamiliar sensation throws you over the edge.
Taehyung knew that it would happen. Of course it would. Your pretty virgin cock was never sucked off before, let alone was allowed to rest snug in a tight throat. Of course you would climax instantly. He moans deeper just to make it more intense for you, keeping your writhing body down with minimal effort. You might rip his hair out if you continue tugging, but he doesnât mind. The pain is goddamn glorious to experience.
âTae!â you canât stop almost screaming his name, arching your back over and over as fiery pleasure throbs in your cock. Your tip feels on fire, your shaft is charged in painful electricity and your balls are convulsing so tightly that they hurt. Your legs are also useless, weak sticks of shaking muscles right now. This orgasm wasnât planned, it wasnât expected and it makes it feel all the more unbearable.
Taehyung slips off your cock the moment it begins to die down. Of course he would know when to stop. He gives you no time to catch your breath as he places his hand on the back of your neck and pulls you into a tongue kiss. You canât reciprocate it at first, gurgling desperately as he fills your mouth with your own cum. It tastes slightly salty with a faint bitter note at the back of your throat. This isnât how he tastes when he normally kisses you after head. This is more intense and leaves you feeling droopy. Taehyung licks into your mouth, scooping out the cum he fed you just so he can swallow it with needy moans. He canât catch everything, resulting in your chins to get messy and sticky as you desperately try to kiss him back.
It gets easy until it suddenly doesnât because he decides to wrap his hand around your cock and jerk you off quickly. You bite down on his lip to the point where you feel it break. His spit burns on your tongue as his blood mixes with it. He breaks away, looking at you with slightly panicky eyes.
âYou bit meâ, he whispers. His lips is already healed again, but the knowledge of what he just fed you remains. Will you end it now?
âTaeâ, you beg and pull him back into a kiss.
He purrs, deepening his grip on your head in sync with his hand speeding up around your cock. He feels dizzy at the realisation that you donât care about the mishap. He meets your tongue and twists his fist around your cockhead.
And the kiss breaks again. Of course it does.
âOh godâ, you whimper, sitting up straight because the sensation overwhelms you.
âHow is that?â he asks.
âIt hurts.â
âHurts? Need me to stop?â
You shake your head, âsensitiveâ, you squeak and sob softly, âTae please.â
âYouâre okay. I know your cock is sensitive. Of course it is. Your pretty untouched cock can barely handle it, but itâs okay. I know what Iâm doingâ, he talks you through the handjob, keeping you with him with his hand on the back of your head. The only way you could look away is by closing your eyes, but you donât want to. You want to keep looking up at him as he jerks you off. It feels so good. You are so sensitive from your surprise orgasm that it hurts so fucking bad and yet you donât want it to stop because there are electric tingles deep, deep down you crave to have at the very surface of your cock.
âDo you feel it? Mhm? Can you feel how good I can handle cock?â he taunts and digs the pad of his thumb into your weeping slit. A stinging stretch radiates from it, pressure so intense you wonder if he is bursting your urinary tract is shooting all the way down to your balls.
You widen your eyes, squeaking for help. He gives it to you gently. Lovingly. Softly. He slips his thumb out of your slit again, massaging it in circular motions until the sting ceases to exist.
âThatâs better, right?â he speaks deeply, caressing the nape of your neck with his thumb.
âTaeâ, you spill tears, grasping his pecs desperately, âit feels so good.â
âI know it does. Of course it does. Youâve got such a sensitive little cock.â
âSensitiveâ, you agree, squeaking helplessly as he begins twisting his hand around your cockhead again. You writhe on the sheets, trying to lie down but he keeps you with him. He tightens his grip on your head, giving you a warning flicker of his eyes.
âSo sensitive, I know. So, so sensitiveâ, his voice is sweet even when his grip is rough, âit will pass. Trust me, it will pass.â
âI, I think I h-have to peeâ, you stutter.
âThatâs okay. Just let it out if you need toâ, he reassures you, âleaking cocks are my favourite.â
âTae please stop.â
He slows down his hand, cupping your balls instead to play with them.
âSorry. Sorry, Iâm sorryâ, you stutter as you try to catch your breath.
âItâs okay. Youâre doing so well, Iâm so proud of youâ, he soothes you, cradling your cheek in his big hand, âIâm sorry, I know I was a little rough right now. Especially after your first ever orgasm, I know this must have been a lot right now.â
âYeah, sorryâ, you hiccup and shudder, âTae, kisses please.â
He smiles fondly and pulls you into a kiss. A gentle one for a change. It tastes of love and adoration. His lips guide yours in slow movements, his tongue caresses yours in a tender dance.
Now without support at the back of your head, your body finally gives up on you. You fall back into the pillows, dragging Taehyung right with you. He doesnât break the kiss, lifting and moving your body until you can comfortable lie on your back and he can rest on top of you. He is between your legs, pressing his clothed crotch against yours.
He doesnât like that he does. The fabric is too thick of a barrier. He reaches down with one hand and rips the small piece of clothing off his body, throwing it on the floor mindlessly. His cock, hard and wet from slick comes into contact with yours. He rolls his hips slowly, grinding it against yours repeatedly.
The kiss breaks again, just like it has happened with every new sensation he lets you experience. Taehyung isnât angry that it does, on the contrary he loves it because he can take in the utter look of shock on your face and the intense look of pleasure following right after.
âCan you feel that?â he asks slightly out of breath.
You nod your head, dimpling his shoulders from grabbing them so tightly.
âIâm so hard for you, darling. Feel itâ, he whispers and angles his hips so he could grind his cockhead against your frenulum.
âTaeâ, you whimper and spill tears.
âOur cocks are melting, darling. Weâre so close this way.â
âTaeâŠâ
You squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back. He is so wet. His tip is so soft. The way he is grinding on you feels so incredibly good.
âIt feels wonderful for meâ, he whispers, âdarling, weâre so close. So immensely closeâ, he adds and deepens the connection by wrapping his long fingers around both your cocks. He presses them together, pumping them in a slow rhythm. It not only gives you the sensation of a handjob, but also grinds your cocks together. The combination of both sensations is unbearable to you. You reach down, grabbing his wrist desperately.
âPlease Taeâ, you beg shakily.
He slows down gradually until he stops completely. He keeps a hold on your cocks, cradling your pressed together tips in his palm.
âToo much again?â
âIâm so sensitive. Iâm sorryâ, you get out, whimpering in embarrassment.
âItâs okay. Iâm so proud of youâ, he calms you down, wiping your tears and kissing your forehead, âI think we are done with foreplay, mhm?â
âForeplay?â
âMhm yesâ, he smiles against your forehead, âI canât have you climaxing too many times already. One was enough. The next I want to take up my ass.â
âOh godâ, you croak, writhing on the sheets. It shifts your cock in his hand, sending electricity through your legs. Holy shit, his cock is so close to yours. The grinding is already mind-blowing, but the knowledge of how close he is, drives you even deeper into ruin, âoh god, Tae.â
âIs this something you want to give me, darling?â
You nod your head vigorously.
âYou do?â
âY-yes.â
âYes? So I can quickly get the lube to make it easier for me?â
You nod your head.
âI love youâ, he whispers and kisses your lips, âoh, I want to worship you.â
He leaves you alone on the bed for nothing but a few seconds, returning to you just as your arms have found enough strength to sit yourself up. You look at your own cock and how incredibly hard it is between your legs. It is glistening wet, aching to be touched again.
Taehyung climbs onto your lap, stealing a giggly kiss from you before sitting up. The bottle of lube is between his fingers, he is smiling down at you.
âAre you ready?â
âYou didnât stretch.â
âIâll manage.â
âButâŠwonât it hurt?â
âTrust meâ, he assures you and lifts his hips so he could shimmy right above your cock. He spreads a thick layer of lube all over your cock, using the access to circle his hole with it. You canât stop staring, breathing quickly because he keeps stealing your breath. He is seconds away from taking your cock unprepared and there is no ounce of nervousness on his features. He meets your eyes, giving you a sweet smile.
âNervous?â he asks.
âA little.â
âDonât be. It will feel so goodâ, he says and sinks down.
âHoly. Fuckâ, you gasp, sitting up in shock.
Taehyung pushes you down again, smiling at you with sparkling eyes.
âHolyfuckâ, you get out, arching your back even if he is holding you down.
âAmazing, isnât it?â
âYesâ, you whimper and grab his wrists. You bottom out, curling your toes as your back once again leaves the sheets. Your eyes roll back and close sensually, âholy fuck.â
âYeah, rightâ, he agrees and begins shifting his hips on you back and forth. Slowly because he knows how sensitive virgin dick can be.Â
âTae! Ah.â
âI know. This is amazing, isnât it?â
âIâm gonna cum, ah.â
âIf you have to, do it. I wonât stop afterwards howeverâ, he says.
âPlease stop, please stop for a moment, pleaseâ, you beg, bruising his thighs as you try to stop him this way.
Taehyung stills his movements, caressing the sides of your neck to soothe you. Your pulse is racing under his fingertips.
âHow are you feeling?â he asks.
âItâs so muchâ, you croak and peel your eyes open. You gulp, pulling a face of devastation, âI can feel it. Tae, I can feel your ass.âÂ
âI knowâ, he says, wiggling just a little to shift your cock in him. He loves the sensation because it gives his hole the possibility of getting used to the stretch.
âI wanted to feel this for yearsâ, you confess with trembling lips as the emotions begin to overwhelm you, âthis was a dream of mine. Tae, I-â, your voice cuts off because you have to whimper.
âI know, oh I knowâ, he wipes the trembles away by cupping your cheeks and kissing your lips. He smiles into the kiss, smiling brighter when he feels your lips curl into a smile as well.Â
âIâm so happyâ, you whisper shakily into the kiss, grasping the nape of his neck to keep him close.
âIâm happy too, my darlingâ, he whispers and moans gently, âI feel so stuffed with you. Youâre so big.â
âOh god, Tae this is driving me insane. I can feel you clench. Holy fuck, youâre so hot inside.â
âIâm burning for youâ, he rasps and rocks back and forth.
âTaeâ, you squeak out quietly.
âDoes this feel nice for you?â
âYe-yeahâ, your voice trembles as you speak because all of this is just a little overwhelming to handle.
âIt feels nice for me as wellâ, he sighs and sits up. Your fingers glide from his neck, lying weakly on the pillow. He places his hands on your tummy, using the support to rock back and forth.Â
Your eyes close in a roll again, your lips part in needy moans. You grip his thighs, dimpling them desperately. His name is the only word you get out between all your sounds. It tastes saccharine on your tongue.
âIâm so stuffed. Oh so stuffedâ, he sighs, lowering his eyes sensually. Taking it slow. This is what he is doing. You need it. He needs it as well. Taehyung took cock without preparation many times before. He also took cocks way bigger than yours, so he is used to a way more painful stretch than he feels right now. It is still very nice to get used to being opened up with slow movements. Because he isnât bouncing on you, it also means that he is constantly stretching himself. He loves it so much that his toes curl each time he feels your length graze against his prostate.
But enough about him. You are barely holding on. It is already way too arousing to fuck his ass on normal days. You always imagined it to feel warm, but that was wrong. It is burning hot and so tight that it feels as if his ass was jerking you off. His unstretched rim squeezes around your base, forcing your cock to stay so much harder. His walls are so soft and wet. You already thought that his mouth was soft, but this is taking the fucking crown.Â
âI think I canât hold backâ, you gasp out, writhing on the sheets.
âItâs alright. Donât hold backâ, he encourages you, staring at your face with obsession in his eyes. You are so beautiful when pleasure controls you. He canât get enough of you.
âTae, too muchâ, you whimper.
âI know, so sensitive. Itâs alright, fill my ass with your climax, darling. Iâm made for it.âÂ
âTae ah godâ, you gasp and tense up. It starts off in your tip and shoots down your shaft before it forces your balls to tense and begin throbbing. You feel it squirting out of you. It feels so good. Like one big relief of a fiery burden. His insides get wet and sticky. Hotter as well. Of course he does, youâre climaxing so fucking hot. Of course you warm him up with it. All of it just makes you climax that much harder.
âYes. Fill me up. Ah darlingâ, Taehyung growls, rocking his hips on you needily, âgive me everything, ahâ, he moans and chases it with bounces on your cock. The feeling of being marked as yours is what finally set him off. Your cum sticking to his walls is what makes it impossible to behave any longer.Â
He drags his hips up and drops down on you, forcing a guttural grunt out of you. You try to sit up again, grabbing his waist and staring up at him with widened eyes. The utter shock is obvious in them.
He pushes you back into the sheets, smiling down at you with mischief in his eyes. He lifts his hips, drops them, repeats it. Over and over until you realise he is getting used to a rhythm and you have to get used to it with him.
It burns. Your cock is genuinely only staying hard because his tight rim is forcing it to. You claw at his waist, breaking skin but itâs the only way to handle the overstimulation.
You try to say his name but it only comes out as a gurgled, â-ae nngn.âÂ
âBreathe. Thatâs what I always do. Breathe.âÂ
You try to do what he says. It does help a little. Your legs still stay useless however, shaking against your will as he picks up speed gradually. The overstimulation hurts so much more than on other days. You want to flee from it as much as you chase it with weak movements.
âBreathe. Keep breathing. Just keep fucking breathingâ, Taehyung lulls and circles his hips as he sinks down.Â
âHoly fuck, urgh fuckâ, you get out, writhing helplessly because he just doesnât stop. He continues dancing his hips on you, keeping your cock so, so hard for him, âplease oh godâ, you beg him, sitting up again because your body reacts like this instinctively.
Taehyung stops you with a strong hold around your wrists. He pushes you back down and pins your wrists down into the ruffled sheets just a little above your head, putting some of his weight on them.
âStop sitting up, Iâm not done with thisâ, he tells you and slams his hips down on you. Skin slaps against skin. Your cock gets fucked so hard by his tight ass.Â
âTaeâ, you gasp loudly, writhing in his strong hold in an attempt to flee him. This is too much. You canât stop fucking leaking and his ass is so fucking tight that each time you bottom out, your cock feels like it might burst from the squeeze.
âDonât flee thisâ, he speaks calmly. As if he wasnât in the process of ruining you, âtake it. I know you can do it.â
âHoly fuck, arghâ, you arch your back, throw your head back, gasp for fucking air.
Taehyung watches with blown-out pupils as your mouth opens and your tongue curls back in a tortured moan. He slides his hands to your palms and intertwines his fingers with you. You squeeze him back instantly, shaking and trembling whilst at the same time using so much strength that it borders painful.
âYes thatâs better. Hold my handsâ, he growls and speeds up.
âTae pleaseâ, you yelp, hitting your head on the sheets repeatedly as you try to take the ride he gives you. Holy fuck your cock is burning up. It hurts so much and yet you donât want it to stop, âple-pleaseâ, you sob, contorting your face in agony.
âIâm not done, darling. Iâm not doneâ, Taehyung tells you, âI want to use you like a perfect fucking sexdoll.â
âFuck. Oh fuck, oh god fuck. Ah fuckâ, you chant, barely registering his words because all that consumes you is the burning of your cock and the never ending pleasure coursing through your body. Your legs are jello, your muscles canât work except for uncontrollable shaking he forces out of them each time he slams his bubble butt down on you.
âTake a deep breath for me.â
You try to. You really, really do but you canât. He knocks the air out of you. Just as he squeezes even the last droplet of desperation from your burning cock.
âBreathe darling, breatheâ, he growls and squeezes his hole on you. He moans deeply, basking in your high-pitched mewl of pained pleasure, âyour cock is so big. My holeâs so fucking stuffed with you.â
âI canâtâ, you croak and sob, arching your back as he forces uncontrollable shakes out of you, âTae Iâm fucking serious, I canât do this anymoreâ, you sob, rolling your hips up desperately.
Taehyung doesnât look at you. Taehyung keeps his head thrown back and rolls his hips as he takes your cock as deep as he can. He aches for you to go so much deeper than you do. He wants to feel it poke the furthest walls of his intestines, wants it truly filling him out. Â
âColour?â he asks you.
âI donât know anymoreâ, you get out, writhing under him. You are blurry. Everything is dizzy. Your brain canât speak. Your eyes canât hear.
Taehyung rolls his head to front and stops his hips. He cradles your cheeks, wiping away the heavy streak of tears. The touch brings comfort, calming down some of the shaking.
âLook at meâ, he says softly.
You peel your eyes open. He is blurry in your vision. A glowing aura surrounds him because you see him double. Or maybe it is because is currently your fucking god. The one who controls your body and whose name you only know how to speak. You grab his wrists, whimpering his name so weakly that it only comes out as squeaks.
âDo you want to stop this?â he asks and traces your lips. They are wet from drool. He smears it all over your skin as he goes to caress your cheek again. Neither of your care.
âTaeâ, you whimper and reach for him. You hook your fingers behind his neck and pull him down.
He slams his hand into the pillow beside your head in the last moment, smiling fondly as he gets your tongue wiggling its way over his lower face as you try to kiss him. He chuckles and shows your tongue its destiny by sucking it between his lips and therefore engaging you in a sloppy tongue kiss. You whimper and mewl, pulling him closer, closer, closer. He lets you, kissing you back and sharing way too much fucking saliva with you. He loves it, moaning into you and getting your moans in return.
He keeps his hips still at first. It is clear that all you need is a kiss, that you donât want to end this yet but you still couldnât take another bounce. He knows that feeling. He knows how it is to be ridden into a state of complete uselessness and how addicting it is. He knows how hard it is to truly want to stop this because despite the agonizing burn of your cock, the fuck is just way too good to stop it. And he knows that despite all of this obsessive, sick desire your body is weaker than the spirit, that breaks are necessary even if you donât want them. Taehyung knows those feelings. He knows exactly in what kind of state you find yourself in right now and because he does, he also knows exactly when he is allowed to start moving again.
When you twist his hair with both hands, when your hips wiggle under him and your moans become so much more desperate than before. Taehyung knows and he is there to give it to you so hard.
He starts off slowly, drawing circles with his hips until you notice what is happening and break the kiss to gasp. You share the same air, staring at each other with droopy eyes. At least you do, Taehyung is having a piercing gaze on you, pinning you down with dark siren eyes.
âIâm so stuffed with cockâ, he rasps and takes your right hand to put it on his stomach. He presses down, letting you feel how the pressure squishes your cum around. His stomach grumbles and gurgles as your fingers squeeze your cum down and your cock fucks it into him again, âand your cumâ, he adds in a breathy moan, âIâm so filled with your cum that it gets hard to keep inside. Do you feel it?â
This is too much. It is already a lot to have him ride your burning cock, but to feel how stuffed with cum he is, is too much.
âAgainâ, you get out and roll your eyes back without truly bothering to close them. It already feel intense, but what truly makes it unbearable is the fact that Taehyung squeezes your hand closer to his stomach and therefore makes you feel how your cum shoots up his intestines. Maybe this is why it burned so much. Maybe this is why you were so breathless. Because he has been dragging an orgasm to the surface. Again. Again. Again. How many times? How many times is he going to circle and roll his hips as your cock shoots up his tight ass? You canât find an answer but you know that it doesnât get easier to bear. On the contrary. Your first orgasm down his throat was short and fiery, your second up his ass was warm and dragged out, this one is intense and fucking addicting. You should want him to stop because your cock is begging you for a break, but you donât want to. It hurts and you want fucking more, moaning in pained ecstasy as your heavy cock empties itself inside his tight, textured walls.
Taehyung moans with you, throwing his head back in ecstasy because nothing beats getting creampied by you. Over and over again. It doesnât lose its spark. On the contrary, the more you climax, the fuller he feels. Fuck, the spell makes you so packed with it. No matter how many times you climax, the amount of cum doesnât get less. Taehyung can feel it fill his stomach and he gets off on it so fucking good that he keeps leaking onto your stomach.
He pushes your wrists together and holds them down with his right hand so he can press his left hand over yours on his stomach. It is bulging. Not only from your cock, but also from being filled with cum.
âIâm so stuffed with youâ, he moans loudly, arching his back, âmy stomachâs bursting from cum.â
âTae please, I canât. Ah!â
âDarlingâ, he moans, dropping to his elbow so he could moan into your ears, âIâm your fucking bitchâ, he mewls and orgasms around your cock.
He becomes unbearably tight, throbbing and pulsating around your cock and making it so much harder to function.
âTae please. Oh god you are so tight, please. Ah! Tae!â you beg and sob loudly, grasping his tensed biceps because it is all you can handle.
âThis is the last one. Promise. Please just fill me up with everythingâ, he begs and orders at the same time, rutting against you as his ass overflows with your cum shots. His current high ruins him. He didnât even know how much pressure was in his prostate until your squirting cock broke him. He can barely breathe, pushing your cock out against his will because he is tightening so fucking hard. It only makes him fuck back so much harder and quicker, needing to stay stuffed like lungs need air.
And so you are destined to shake, writhe and beg until Taehyung milked you dry. Well, as dry as you can get because even after your orgasm, you swear you could probably cum again. Not that you want to, but you swear that you could.
You drop your hand from his stomach and sob his name.
Taehyung knows that it is over, that your cock throbbed as much as it can and that you arenât lost in another high anymore. He also knows exactly how to move to get you to the highest peak of pleasure. He knows because he has done it a million times before. He peels himself off of you, sitting up straight which shifts your cock deeper again. It presses against his abdominal wall, forcing it to stick out where your burning tip lies. He is so filled with cum that sitting up like this actually hurts in his stomach. He is so stuffed and there is no way for it all to go. He tenses up involuntarily, easing the pressure by lifting his hips just enough that he has your cock halfway inside.
His hole flutters and relaxes against his will, releasing spurts of your cum in wet, sinful sounds.
âIâm so stuffedâ, he whimpers and for the first time tonight, he sounds so utterly submissive. He rests his hands on your waist, using it for support as he tries to sink down on you again. His hole squelches and squirts more cum, enabling your cock to fill him up without any sort of friction.
You bottom out. The pressure returns. Taehyung mewls your name. You sob his name.
âIâm so stuffedâ, he says again because this is all he can really tell you, âplease can you go a little longer? Please one more time. I need it one more time.â
âI donât knowâ, you get out, writhing between his fingers.
âOne more time, Iâll be gentle. Like thisâ, he begs and bounces on your cock in a slow rhythm.
âTaeâ, you mewl, twisting the sheets.
You are ruined. He is ruined. It is obvious to both of you that the right thing to do right now would be to stop this, but you canât. Your cock is on fire, how he is going to milk you again is a mystery to you but you know that he will. Taehyungâs stomach feels like bursting and is convulsing constantly in a weak attempt to get him to relieve himself of the pressure, how he is going to fit more of your cum inside is a mystery to him but he wants it so bad. He fucked you delirious and in the process ruined himself as well. He needs to have one more.
âTae, I have to- it, it feels like pee a-again.â
âYou just want to squirt. Itâs okay, donât fight itâ, he assures you, adding the most desperate of âpleaseâ.
âNo. No, this doesnât f-feel like squirt, Tae ah.â
âItâs okay. Itâs okay no matter what it is.â
âI canât stop it.â
âYes, please.â
âTae, oh godâ, you croak and then the pressure in your lower stomach bursts for the last time. You relieve yourself inside him in spurts of liquid, translucent cum. It feels so good. No words on earth could ever be enough to describe how good it feels to let all this pressure just explode.
âThank youâ, Taehyung keens and arches his back. He stills completely, âoh god, youâre making me squirt tooâ, he mewls and releases all over your torso in hot spurts of translucent goodness.
Taehyung is a gentleman. He likes cleanliness and is never dirty. So why. Why is it that whenever you and he fuck, you end up so fucking dirty and disgusting? Truly it is a phenomenon unable to be explained and a sensation so addicting you wish to never stop experiencing it.Â
He drops to his elbows, rocking his hips gently so you could share in the afterglow. You finally begin feeling the fire die down in your cock. This must be how softening feels like.Â
âTaeâ, you whimper.
âI love youâ, Taehyung squeaks out, trembling on you.
âI love you tooâ, you sob, hugging him tightly, âoh god. Oh god what just happened?â
âI know, I canât hold myself for long.â
âItâs okay, just drop.â
Taehyung trembles and drops down onto you, blanketing you under his weight. His hole pulsates rhythmically as his orgasm dies down slowly. You continue throbbing as you finally begin softening.
âYou did so wellâ, Taehyung whispers, hugging you against him, âIâm so proud of you, my sweetest darling.â
âTae, Iâm happy.â
âIâm happy too, my darling. So happyâ, he says and then silence surrounds you.
You couldnât possibly talk more. You are done for. Taehyung feels the same. Itâs always like this with you and him. You get lost in the sex you are having and it ends up ruining both of you to the point of non-verbal cuddles and fights for air.
Taehyung recovers quicker than you, sitting up slowly. Your arms glide from his body and just kind of drop into the sheets. You donât fix them, letting them lie where they first land. Your eyes race between the othersâ. His hair is messy, hanging into his features. He smiles. You retort it weakly.
âHow was that for your first time?â he asks.
âYouâre going to kill me one dayâ, you whisper in a croaky voice.
He chuckles, âdoes this mean that you liked it?â
You nod your head, rolling it to the side afterwards. You close your eyes in flutters.
âIâm fucking dead, holy fuck this actually just happened.â
âMhm yes, it really didâ, he snickers, âdo you want to see something very sexy?â
âYeah, as long as youâre not going to touch my cock again. It might fall off you do.â
âNoâ, he laughs, âno, I promise I wonât. Look at my butt.â
âAlright?â
You shift your eyes to it. He lifts himself off your cock. It flops onto your stomach weakly. He positions himself above it and then seems to relax his muscles. What looks like liters of cum runs out of him in a steady stream.
âOh godâ, you croak, propping yourself up on your elbow.
âIt doesnât stopâ, Taehyung says and giggles, pressing his hand against his stomach to squeeze out even more of it. It is running down on each side of your stomach by now, soaking the sheets.
âThis is so hot, Tae. Oh god, did I do that?â
âYou didâ, he says and sighs, âit hurt so much to have all of this inside. I was so close to bursting.â
âHoly cow. This isâŠ.fuck, this is hot.â
It finally stops, trickling out of him in an uncoordinated rhythm.
âAh hmâ, Taehyung hums, trembling a little, âempty. Heh.â
âSeriously, if you didnât ruin me as hard as you did, I would have flipped you and fucked you senseless right nowâ, you murmur and writhe, âoh god, itâs everywhere though. And so warmâ, you whine.
Taehyung laughs, nodding his head, âI know. So messyâ, he sits down on your stomach, getting his ass dirty as well. His weight feels so good on your cock. Warm and not at all uncomfortable. He cups your cheeks and pulls you into a kiss.
You hook your arms behind his head, letting him pull you up until he sits on your lap and your chests are melted into one. It spreads the mess everywhere, but itâs already too late to care about that. Youâll just have to take a shower later.
âHoly fuck, I love you so muchâ, Taehyung whispers between kisses, âif the world ever stops turning, Iâll push her myself just so I can give myself more time with you.â
You giggle, letting him kiss you all over your face with your eyes closed in happy bliss.
Summary: Yoongi will never admit to anyone that performing on stage makes him horny, like insanely, can't think straight horny. Luckily you are backstage to help him out
Word Count: 3.6K
Pairing: Yoongi/Reader
Rating: 18+ MDNI!
Tags: porn with very little plot, Yoongi is a horny disaster, dirty talk, teasing, fingering, pussy eating, face sitting, cum eating, lots of talk of Yoongi's balls, boners, hand jobs, blow jobs, slight sub Yoongi, classic mention of Yoongi's tongue skills, they fuck Yoongi is insatiable and its filth
Author's Note: So I'm back to writing after a long break. I have to be honest I have no idea what possessed me to write this filth but hey here it is!
Likes and Reblogs are appreciated :)
The first thing Yoongi wants when he steps off stage is you.
He lets his crew brush back his sweaty hair, take off his mic, and he goes through the motions as if every cell in his body wasnât craving your hands, your lips, your taste.
Yoongi will never admit to anyone (except you) that being up on stage turns him into a horny animal.
The energy of the crowd, the way they scream and cheer for him, the way his words are carried back to him through his fans singing along.
It makes pride swell in his chest, and he canât help but feel lit from the inside out as he stares down at his adoring fans.
There is also a part of it that fuels his ego.
They are here for him.
Cheering for him.
Watching him.
Wanting him.
By the time he makes it to the green room, where he knows you are waiting, he is almost salivating with how badly he wants to be touched.
His hand wraps around the door handle, and he pulls it open, knees nearly shaking with exhaustion and a different kind of hunger that has nothing to do with all his favourite snacks sitting on a long table behind the couch that you are currently curled up on.
Yoongi closes the door with an audible click, and your eyes snap up to his as a slow smile appears on those lips, and you put your phone down on a nearby table and untuck your legs from under you.
âThe show was amazing, baby. I was watching from the screen.â You praise as Yoongi feels his cock ache in his jeans, and it takes everything in him not to rip them off right now and fist his leaking cock.
âThanks.â He muttered, voice ragged from performing for over two hours straight.
He ambled towards you and lightly buried his face in the crook of your neck.
His button nose traced the line of your neck before he began to press slow, soft kisses to your skin.
Your hands wound their way into his sweat-soaked hair, and he nearly purred as he pushed his lower body into you, needing you to know how wound up and desperate for relief he was.
âOh my Yoongi, what got you all worked up, huh?â You softly teased as he whined against your skin and felt desire race through his veins as he rubbed his hard cock against your hip.
You continued to run your hands through his hair, and Yoongi kept rutting into you like an animal in heat.
His skin was too tight, his body too hot, cock too hard to even think properly as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to your skin and prayed you would finally touch him before he ruined his pants with how much his poor, neglected cock was leaking.
âP-Please.â He croaks out as you giggle against his hairline. Yoongi lets out an annoyed huff as you slowly pull away, leaving him standing there with his disheveled hair, white shirt, and cock nearly bursting from his jeans.
âYou like it, huh? Like when they cheer for you? Like it when youâre the main attraction?â You tease as Yoongi bites his lip and nods as he is too horny to be embarrassed about this anymore.
âWhat do you need, Yoongi?â You ask with a glint in your eye that raises his heart rate as he tries his best to keep his hands by his side and not pounce on you like a hungry animal.
âI want you. I want you to sit on my face. Please, I need to taste you,â he almost pleads as his cock gives another throb and leaks more precum.
The desire is buzzing under his skin, and his fingers itch to reach out and touch you. He wants nothing more than to be buried in your tight, wet heat, but he knows he has to be a good boy if he wants to get any of that.
If not, you will put him in his place.
But the thing about Yoongi, is he likes that too.
You slowly push down your pants, and Yoongi scrambles to lie flat on the couch, blood pounding in his ears so loud he doesnât hear your chuckle at his eagerness.
âOne rule, Yoongi. If you cum in your pants, you donât get to fuck me. Deal?â You say as your bare pussy is hovering inches from his face.
He can see the way it shines, and he smiles at how horny you are too.
He nods at your words because at this point, he is so pent up that he would agree to almost anything.
His hands come to rest at your hips, fingers digging into the skin as you lower your pussy onto his warm mouth.
At the first taste, Yoongi lets out a broken moan and feels his cock jump in his pants.
At the second taste, Yoongiâs heart is racing, and his head is spinning.
At the third taste, he devours you like an animal.
His blunt fingertips dig harshly into your skin. He closes his eyes to heighten the sensation of your wetness coating his tongue and his lips as he licks and sucks everything he can get from you.
Yoongi loves the little noises you make when he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit.
He wants to put those high moans into a song.
He wants to drink them in.
He wants to hear them for the rest of his days living on earth.
He needs more, so he buries his whole face in your pussy and rubs his face against it, not only coating his tongue but his chin and cheeks too.
Yoongi flicks his tongue in just the right way for you to let out a string of curses that has him chuckling against your heat as he holds you down and nudges his nose along your pussy lips, sending your eyes rolling in the back of your head.
Yoongi lets go of you with one hand to open you up on his fingers.
He coats your wetness on his finger before pushing it in, causing you to grind down on the digit and let out more sounds that make Yoongi feel feral, and his cock somehow hardens even more.
He loves the way your walls feel against his finger as if he were made to be inside you.
âYo-Yoongi fuckâ You cry out brokenly as he knows you are close just by the sounds you are making, and he doubles down on his efforts.
His finger curls at the right spot to make you squeal and whine, and when he nudges his cute button nose against your clit and then flicks the sensitive bud with his tongue, you lose it and cum all over his face.
Yoongi thinks this is the closest thing to a religious experience he will ever have.
The moan you let out is downright sinful, and you grind down into his finger as you ride out your high.
He feels you let go all over his digit and his face, and Yoongi continues to lap it up as you squirm from overstimulation on top of him.
Yoongi isnât done yet, though, as he swiftly adds another finger and begins to plunge it inside your wet heat as his tongue flicks over your clit in time with his movements.
His brain is static, his cock is hard and aching, he is sure anyone walking by will know what the two of you are doing. Still, he doesnât seem to care right now, as the only thing occupying his mind is making you cum again.
You are whining above him, nearly sobbing out his name as you grind down on his finger.
You want him to stop, you want him to keep going.
You are so deep in lust that you donât even know what you want anymore.
Yoongi wants to taste you again, and he laps at your pussy like a man starved.
Your knees contract around his head, and Yoongiâs digits find that soft spot inside of you that makes you nearly scream out his name as he feels your walls flutter.
âYoongi- I-Fu-fuck.â You cry out as you once again cum all over his fingers and his face.
Yoongi growls against your pussy as he laps up everything your body has to give him, not a single drop wasted as he slowly removes his fingers and licks a long, slow stripe up your pussy to your clit.
When the tip of his tongue connects with your clit you fall sideways, nearly slipping off the couch as he catches you and you untangle yourself from your position to slowly lower yourself to the floor.
Yoongi is breathing hard and watching you struggle to catch your breath as you place a hand over your heart to try to calm your body down after two orgasms.
Yoongi takes his time licking his fingers clean, as the heady scent of arousal is thick in the air.
The only sounds in the room were you struggling to breathe and Yoongi lewdly swirling his tongue around his own digits, desperate to lap up all he could of your taste.
After a moment, your eyes open, and Yoongi shoots you a cocky smile as you shakily get to your feet.
âFuck Yoongi, what was that?â You ask in awe as you nearly stumble into the couch before he moves his legs so you can sit down.
âI think they call that my tongue technology.â He smirks as you roll your eyes and lightly smack his leg.
Yoongiâs stomach flutters when you shoot him a dangerous smirk as you trail one long fingernail up his leg, so close but so far from where he needs you most.
âCanât believe you made me cum twice. You really must want to fuck me, huh?â You hint with a grin as Yoongi feels his muscles tense from under the rough denim fabric.
All the cockiness from his previous endeavour is gone as he watches your hand slide up and down his leg.
His breath hitches as you finally make your way to the waistline of his jeans, and he pushes his hips up to help you pull the annoyingly restrictive fabric down.
Pants and underwear get thrown in a random corner of the room as his cock slaps, hard and wet against his stomach.
Yoongi is nearly shaking in anticipation as you run your blunt fingernails down his legs once more, and you chuckle when you see his muscles tensing when you get too close to his cock.
âMy pretty Yoongi. Always so eager to please,â You hum in appreciation as Yoongi feels arousal hot and thick in his throat as he struggles to breathe every time your hand grazes his cock.
His cock is a mess against his stomach, all hard and red and wet with precum.
Every time your hand gets close, it twitches as if begging to be touched, and when you finally wrap your small hand around his girth, Yoongi lets out a broken moan and throws his head back against the couch.
The way you jerk him off is downright raunchy as you twist your hand at the top, making him whine, the wet sounds of your hand lubricating his cock with his own precum is obscene.
âFuck baby, you really are worked up. Your balls are so big, so full of cum for me.â
Yoongi whined at your dirty talk, and you chuckled darkly as you rolled his balls in the palm of your hand.
Yoongiâs noises were raised in volume and pitched with neediness as you lightly stroked his cock with one hand and squeezed his balls with the other.
âSo excited to have all this cum inside me. Or maybe down my throat, huh? Would you like that, Yoongi?â You ask as he juts out his lip and whines.
âSaid... you said I could fuck you if I was good. I was good.â He argues with a whimper as you lean down and suckle the head of his cock into your mouth.
Yoongi canât help but stare as your mouth bulges with his cock, and you shoot him a wicked smile as you deep throat him in one go.
He feels the way your throat contracts around his cock, and he fists the couch under him, desperate to hold onto something, to stave off the orgasm that is fast approaching as you swallow around his hard shaft, making his eyes roll to the back of his head.
âS-Stop please, I canât hold-i-itâ He nearly sobs as you pull off with a smirk.
Yoongi is breathing hard as his cock rests heavy in your hand as you once again jerk him off, much slower this time.
âSeriously, I-I canât. Gotta fuck you. Please.â He nearly begs in tears as you release his cock and fish around in your bag for a condom.
Yoongi watched you bent over, fishing in your bag, and his cock throbbed impatiently against his stomach.
With your back turned, his hand found its way between his legs, and he lightly fondled his balls, rolling them around.
God, you were right, he was so full of cum his balls felt like they were going to explode.
He released them quickly as you turned around, and you unwrapped the condom and rolled it down his length.
âI gotta be honest. Iâm so fucking horny right now, I donât know how long Iâll last.â He admits not meeting your gaze as you press a soft kiss to his cheek and run your hands through his hair.
âBaby, you made me cum twice with just your tongue. You can get inside me and bust immediately. I really donât mind. I love it when you are pussy drunk.â You reply with a grin as your hand wraps around the base of his cock, and you line it up with your soaked entrance.
He sucks in a harsh breath as the tip of his cock breaches your folds, and when you sink down all the way, Yoongi is sure this is the closest he has been to cuming instantly in his adult life.
The way your walls squeeze his cock makes him bite his lip to stop the filthy moans that are threatening to spill. He can feel you already contracting around him as Yoongiâs hands find their way to your hips to hold you steady as you bury your face in his shoulder and let out a grunt.
âFuck youâre so tight around my cock.â He chokes out as he scrunches his eyes shut and tries his best to think of anything else but cuming right now.
âSo big, Yoongi. Fuck, every time I see this cock, I think I can handle it and every single time you rip me in half. Fuck.â You grit out.
Yoongi grunts and squeezes his eyes shut even harder as his hands dig into the skin of your hips.
You both breathe together, and after a moment, he feels you visibly relax in his arms.
You begin to wiggle your hips on his shaft, which makes Yoongi tighten his grip on your waist even harder and let out a harsh breath as you stop moving to look at him.
âYou okay down there?â You snort as Yoongi opens his dark eyes to stare at you.
Youâre a vision above him, and his cock twitches deep inside you, making him groan.
âHold on, Iâm a little too worked up.â He admits.
âI told you I donât mind if you cum early.â You remind him with a soft smile as you slowly dance your hips on his cock, testing the waters.
âI want to last for you. I donât want this to be over so soon.â He says, as you smile and lean down to nuzzle the skin just below his ear that always drives him crazy.
âBaby, Iâve been with you long enough to know how you get when you are done performing. I know we are going to go more than one round. Donât worry so much about not lasting. We got all night.â You breathe in his ear.
Yoongi had to admit he had been good and patient up until this point, but your words had stirred him in a way where he was now gripping your hips for a new reason, and he began to thrust into you with vigour.
You cried out his name as Yoongi began to fuck into you wildly, giving into the desire that had been simmering under his skin since the moment he stepped on stage.
He took in the enticing feeling of your pussy walls hugging his cock, and when he hit a certain spot deep inside, he felt the way you clenched his cock harder as he chuckled under his breath.
The air was sweet with arousal and the sounds of both your moans and grunts as you worked each other to release.
Your legs were past the point of shaking, so Yoongi lay your upper body down on his chest and did all the work of thrusting his hips up to make you cum.
The tension in Yoongiâs body kept winding tighter, and he was surprised he had not cum yet as his hand snuck between your sweaty bodies to flick at your clit, which sent you twitching and moaning out his name.
His cock was jutting into you harshly, and his balls were slapping your ass as he continued to work you both towards your highs.
The way he fucked into you toed the line between romantic and lewd as Yoongi continued to circle your clit with his finger and fuck harshly into you, pressing the head of his cock into your sweet spot with every thrust.
âYoongi f-fu-fuckâ You cried out, and he smirked as he knew you were close.
You were sobbing above him as he continued to fuck into you harsher with every thrust, and you came with a loud whine as you buried your face in his neck and rode out your high.
He could feel your walls clench around his cock so tight he couldnât move.
Even though you had already cum twice, you were creaming his cock so much that he nearly slipped out with the wetness that was coating him.
Yoongi felt his balls retract and his cock twitch, and he began to fuck up into you, chasing his own high just as you were coming down from yours.
You were moaning from the overstimulation of it all, but it fell on deaf ears as Yoongi angled his hips and pistoned his cock deep inside you, feeling his high creeping up quickly.
You were bouncing on his cock, crying out his name and gripping his shoulders for dear life as you took everything he gave you.
âCome on, Yoongi, come for me, baby. Fill me up with all that cum that you have saved up.â You beg him as Yoongi throws his head back, and his orgasm hits him hard.
His cock twitches, and spurts of cum shoot out, coating the condom and making Yoongi see stars as he grips you so tight he is sure that it will leave marks.
He is struggling to breathe or even think as he feels his cock pulsate and spurt out more and more cum, so much cum in fact, he was surprised he had all of that saved.
The greedy side of him wants to go again right away, but his heart is racing under his skin, and the way his cock is already starting to soften tells him he needs to take a minute, so he slowly removes his cock from you and gasps when he sees the wetness spilling out from your orgasm.
Yoongi doesnât bother taking off the condom; he doesnât give a single fuck as he maneuvers both of you so he can once again be between your legs to lap up the wetness that is spilling out.
âYoongi Fuck!â You cry as he takes his time with you, unlike last time, as he gives your pussy soft kitten licks, cleaning it up as gently as he can.
You lace your hands through his hair and let out a small sigh as you let Yoongi work because you know eating pussy is one of his favourite things.
His nose bumps your clit, and you twitch suddenly as he apologizes softly and strokes the skin of your thighs with his calloused hands.
Yoongi wants to stay here forever, buried between your legs with your heavenly scent in his nose and the taste of your wetness on his tongue, but his knees are starting to ache from being on the floor for too long, so he presses one last kiss to your pussy before pulling away with a satisfied smirk.
âThat was so-fuckâ You breathe out as he stands to his feet and slides the condom off, throwing it in a nearby garbage before grabbing his clothes and your clothes.
You both dress silently, though Yoongi is pleased to see you are having a hard time getting your pants on, as your legs are still shaking.
âRound two when we get home?â he asks hopefully as you straighten everything out and shoot him a puzzled look.
âYoongi, I think we are on round four by now.â
He smiles softly and laces his hands through yours, excited to go home and be buried in your pussy once more.
â ËËË Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader
â ËËË Summary: Youâre horny af one night so you login to your fave hook-up app for a quick fix. You match with Min Yoongi, expecting a cocky rapper with a filthy mouth, but instead, you get a soft-spoken man in a designer shirt and a gummy smile. He keeps asking you out, but thereâs no kiss, no sex, nothing. Each date winds you up tighter than the last, your patience (and your lingerie) hanging by a thread, and now you canât tell whatâll snap first: his restraint or your self-control.
â ËËË Genre: Fluff, smut, strangers to lovers, non idol
â ËËË Warnings: 18+ MDNI, eventual smut...
â ËËË Word count: 788
â ËËË Chapter Warnings: YEARNING, DOWN BAD YOON. mentions of masturbation, MC being a tease
â ËËË Notes: Hello! Still working on date no. 6, but I wanted to share a short interlude, a teaser if you will, because y'all showed so much excitement for the Yoongi POV chapter! Thanks tea and aqua for betareading. Here we go~
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Min Yoongi is a busy man. He keeps his days packed tight on purpose. Thereâs work, composing, lessons, appointments, whatever keeps him moving forward. Today, itâs finishing some beats, a meeting with a collaborator, a visit to the dermatologist, and 30-minutes of Duolingo to keep his Japanese language streak (now at 678 days).Â
Heâs always been like thisâwired to fill every hour with something âuseful,â something that feels like progress. A creature of habit some might say, his life runs on quiet routines heâs refined over the years. Itâs the same rotation of projects and hobbies that heâs already mastered enough to feel comfortable in. Everything in his world is set up exactly how he likes it: predictable, familiar, no gimmicks. The kind of life pattern that doesnât surprise him, doesnât ask too much of him, doesnât shift under his feet.
The only shenanigans he allows involve his friends and the recent one led him to you. So suddenly, a new slice quietly appeared in the pie chart of his day. Itâs not the biggest chunk, but itâs significant.
You.
Thinking about you.
Texting you.
Waiting for your texts.
Calling you at night just to hear you laugh.
Sending you cat memes.
And uh, tugging one out to thoughts of you more often than heâs proud to admit.
Somehow you have carved a spot in his daily life, and itâs a part he ends up prioritizing without even trying. The thing is, he doesnât mind it at all. In fact, he wishes he had met you sooner.
One afternoon, he sees an e-mail from a Japanese recording group. The next day he is in front of Fujii Kaze, discussing his new album. Itâs typical for Yoongi to have overseas trips, attend writing camps, things like that. What he anticipated was in the midst of being productive, he would miss you.
But fuck, he just didnât know it would be this bad.
The first week, he pretends heâs normal about it. He texts you in the mornings, sends you a pic of one of the studio cats, updates you that he is in fact, eating and not skipping meals. You tell him heâs a good boy for it, and he beams, making a heart emoji appear underneath your chat bubble. Every time your name lights up his notifications, heâs biting his lip.
By week two, he decides to video call more often. He misses your face so much, he made one of his pictures of you from your hiking date his lock screen. He tries not to be obvious about how much he misses you, but you probably can tell at this point.
One night, he almost drops his phone when the camera opens because youâre a domestic goddess in the kitchen, this gingham apron across your chest with the words, âNot the best cook. Eat me instead.â
0h yeah. He wants to eat you out real good.
He coughs lightly to cleanse the thoughts polluting his brain, while you tell him your bestie gave it to you as a gag gift last Christmas.
âWhen are you coming home?â you ask. Using the screen as a mirror, youâre pulling your hair up in a claw clip and letting some tendrils fall out to frame your face.Â
âYoongi?â
Oh, he got distracted. âYeah, sorry? What did you say?â
âI asked when youâre coming back.â You smile.Â
He takes a moment to actually respond becauseâ
Holy shit, he wants you.
He wants you in his kitchen, his bed, his hoodie.
He wants to slot behind you while youâre whisking something and kiss the back of your warm neck.
He clears his throat. Plays it cool. (Fails miserably.)
âWhat are you making?â He tries for casual but it comes out lower than intended.
âBrownies,â you say, moving back so the apron comes fully into frame. âBeen craving for something sweet.â
Yeah, no. He is absolutely not thinking about brownies. Heâs thinking about pushing that apron up andâ
âYoongi? You okay?â
He blinks. âYeah. You just look⊠cute.â
âShut up.â
He grins like an idiot.
But then he watches you dip a finger into a bowl and suck the batter off your fingertips.Â
Oh shit. That mouth is sinful.
And you had the audacity to moan? "Taste so good..."
His jeans are suddenly so tight so he had to go, pretend he had to do something, be somewhere, but in reality he is in his hotel, spread-eagle on top of his comforter, controlling his breathing.
By week three, heâs so far gone. Youâve done it. Youâve switched off something in his brain, and now all he can think about is how much he wants you. How much he wants to come home to be with you.
A/N: Hope you're excited for Date No. 6 - The Fuzzy Sweater <3
See you in the comments and please reblog this with your review if you enjoyed. Itâs the best way you can show your support. đ
Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful human xo
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â ËËË Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader
â ËËË Summary: Youâre horny af one night so you login to your fave hook-up app for a quick fix. You match with Min Yoongi, expecting a cocky rapper with a filthy mouth, but instead, you get a soft-spoken man in a designer shirt and a gummy smile. He keeps asking you out, but thereâs no kiss, no sex, nothing. Each date winds you up tighter than the last, your patience (and your lingerie) hanging by a thread, and now you canât tell whatâll snap first: his restraint or your self-control.
â ËËË Genre: Fluff, smut, strangers to lovers, non idol
â ËËË Warnings: 18+ MDNI, eventual smut...
â ËËË Chapter Warnings: a little cheesier than previous chapters, PDA (kissing and groping outdoors, but thereâs really nobody around⊠or is there?), 2 new characters unlocked, unbetaâd because I didnât want to bother my betas tea and aqua since itâs their Thanksgiving weekend <3
â ËËË Word count: 3.7k [longest one so far]
â ËËË Notes: Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate! Itâs not a holiday we observe where Iâm from, but I still wanted to say how grateful I am for all of you. Thank you for the love you keep giving this series. It means so much and I appreciate yâall. <3
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Date 5: The Olive Green Parka
Yoongi: Letâs touch some grass
You: wdym?
Yoongi: đAchasan
You: letâs do it
Yoongi: Pick you up at 8
You: đ
Okay. Truth time. Youâve never gone on a hike before. You werenât even sure if you were the type to enjoy it. But it seems that when it comes to Yoongi, youâre willing to try just about anything. And if that means trading your kitten heels for rugged boots even just for a day then so be it.Â
âWow, babe. Youâre really branching out, huh?â Taehyung says as he closes the door of your fridge, a can of Coke nabbed.
You scroll Naver for photos of the area Yoongi pinned as you continue to chat with your bestie. âWhat do you even do during hikes?âÂ
âYou hike.â
âBitch?â
Taehyung grins, boxy and annoying. You know heâs just being a little shit, but he knows his stuff. When he enlisted, his special forces squad pretty much scaled every mountain in Seoul for their training. He got so damn good, he got the guns to prove it. âAchasan is an easy enough trail. Low altitude. Lots of paths to take. If your boy knows his shit, heâll take the northeast trail. You can get about 4km in about an hour and you get great views of Guri.â
You blink. âYour mouth was moving but literally nothing you said made any sense to me.â
âJust wear a nice pair of leggings. So as you enjoy the view, he can also enjoy the view⊠of your ass.â
Now thatâs the kind of advice you were looking for!
You rush to your closet and come out with three athleisure sets that might work. Tae tells you to wear the orange set and you thought it would pair nicely with the white windbreaker you recently got from alo, the cute one with the thumb holes. Later on, he lends you his backpack and helps you pack your essentials.
Thank God for Tae and his fitness era!
Yoongiâs in a casual white tee and hiking shoes with an olive green parka to keep him warm. With a DSLR camera slung around his neck and a backpack over his shoulder, he looks every bit the overzealous tourist and you think itâs kinda adorable.
He hands you a bottle of water. âReady?â he asks with that soft smile.
âReady,â you answerâand you are.
The trail starts out gentle: gravel path, a few wooden stairs, and views of the Han River just peeking between trees. He leads but often turns back, holding out a hand. You catch yourself taking it.
When your foot slips on a mossy rock, heâs there fast, steadying you, his palm warm against your lower back. You breathe out loud, âThanks.â
He just nods. âNo sweat.â
You stop to take photos. You watch him squat and shoot photos of the river, of the shadows made by the trees, of the moisture on a leaf. His stance may be weird, but when you saw the photos from the viewfinder, you have to admit he has a great eye for composition.
After about an hour and a half, you reach a clearing: tall pines ring the grassy patch, and just beyond the trees the ridges of the mountains stretch into light haze.Â
âThought weâd chill for a bit,â Yoongi says as he drops his pack and pulls out a blanket.
You flop beside him, stretching your legs and watching the clouds drift. He unpacks the food he brought: gimbap, sliced pears, a bit of cheese and crackers. You add your trail mix, mini sandwiches, and shine muscat to the spread. A cute little picnic date.
You pick up a slice of pear. âThis is great,â you say softly, looking up at the sky and inhaling deeply.Â
âFresh air, finally.â
âAgreed, pollutionâs gotten really bad in the city.â
âNo, itâs fuckinâ terrible.â
You share fruit, conversation. He asks about something you havenât talked about before, your family. Youâre happy to share. You tell him bits and pieces about your relationship with them. He reciprocates with anecdotes too, like his older brother recently opening up a restaurant.
He procures a bluetooth speaker from his backpack and places it on the mat. âWhat kind of music do you like?â
âPop, usually. Sorry, Iâm so basic.â
âNah. No rules about that. You like what you like.â
âI have this go-to playlist. Songs I donât mind listening to forever. And theyâre a mix of genres.â
âNow Iâm curious.â
âHonestly I donât even know some of the artists there.â
âHowâd you discover them?â
âWhenever I hear a song I likeâin a mall, cafe, whereverâI use this app, Shazam. It tells me what song it is, then I add it to my playlist. For some reason I just kept doing it, adding songs as I go along.â
He hums, thoughtful. âSounds dope. A playlist built organically, like itâs the soundtrack of your life.â
You never thought of it that way and how Yoongi just makes it sound so profound, pink colors your cheeks. âI⊠wow. Okay, here. Iâll play it.â
You reach for your phone and hit shuffle.
The opening melody fills the space between you and Yoongi. You lean back against your palms, allowing the song to touch your soul as it always does, nostalgic and comforting.
The thing is, when you close your eyes, you donât get to see Yoongiâs reaction.
⊠How his eyes go wide.
⊠How his breath stutters.
⊠How he freezes mid-reach for a grape.
You have no way of knowing that he is crashing the fuck out, just a little.
Because itâs his song.
And you just told him, without knowing, that you could listen to it forever.
Now he canât help but be so fond of the way you hum to the song, looking serene and content.
Did he really meet you on a godforsaken app?
Thank god for Jin and his dumb ideas!
As minutes pass, you notice Yoongi has⊠inched closer. Not dramatically, like heâs not suddenly draping himself all over you. You know heâs not the touchy feely type. And when he does touch you, itâs usually deliberate and purposeful. But now, heâs close enough that his knee brushes your thigh every now and then. He picks stray pollen from your cheek. His hand plants itself on the spot behind you as he leans back. Heâs close enough that you can feel his presence encroaching your space.
He points at the thumb hole in your sweater sleeve. âYou always wear stuff like this?â he asks, tone light.
You hold your hand out so he can see it better. He takes your wrist gently, turning it over like heâs inspecting a museum artifact, not your 180,000 won sweater.
âItâs comfy,â you say.
He nods, still holding your hand. âLooks like it.â
His thumb grazes over your knuckles, barely, like maybe it was on purpose or maybe he just miscalculated the angle. Hard to tell with him. But he doesnât let go right away.
As it turns out the sun starts throwing real heat, so cute and comfy as it is, the jacket has to go. You push to your feet and let the fabric slide off your shoulders. Youâre down to your cute sports bra, which youâve been wanting to show off anyway.
âWhy are you stripping?â Yoongi asks, deadpan.
âDonât mind me. Youâre immune to my charms, remember?â You donât know why you say it. It was meant to be light, a joke. But maybe it was half-meant. You guess in some way you are battling some insecurity that he doesnât want you as badly as you want him.
Cat-like eyes narrow into slits. âThe fuck?â
You roll your eyes and stroll off to hang your jacket on a low branch so it can catch the breeze and dry out.
When you come back, heâs in the middle of shrugging out of his own jacket, tossing it aside like it offended him. Then he says your name, firmer than youâve heard before, and adds, âCome here.â
You go without thinking.
His legs part just enough for you to slip between them, your back settling against his chest. His arms wrap around your waist, gentle but claiming.
âIâm not immune.â
You scoff.
Lithe fingers dance up and down your arms, goosebumps rising.
âYou can check.â
âYoongi, donât say shit like that.â
âOkayâŠâ he murmurs in a tone way too agreeable, and then, like the menace he is, he leans in and presses his lips to that sliver of skin where your neck meets your shoulder.Â
A tiny, but treacherous huff of satisfaction leaves your lips.
âMmm?â he asks, even though it seems he is already taking it as a good sign, trailing his lips higher, across your jaw, towards your earlobe.Â
âYoongiâŠâ
âYes, Y/N?âÂ
âYou wanted to wait, right?â
âI said I wanted to get to know you.â
âAnd this was what you had in mind?â
âOh I have a lot more things in mind. But this is goodâŠâ He resumes kissing your neck, and in a shocking twist of events, you feel it, a flash of teeth and tongue, promising a wet bruise he should absolutely not be leaving.
âYouâre driving me insane.â You say, clutching the back of his hand by your waist. You drag his hand higher, smoothing the fabric on the underside of your sports bra until it rests squarely at your chest.
âLikewise.â he breathes out, hand moving to squeeze your tits once, twice, softly, gently, before his thumb locates your nipple in alarming precision and swipes it to peak.
âAre you still immune, Yoongi?â
âGave you permission to check, didnât I?â
You reach behind you and trace the outline of his joggers. When you close in on his clothed shaft, a groan so raw and beautiful and needy escapes from his mouth. He is hard and big against your palm and you press a little firmer, letting your hands wander up and down.
Twisting your body, you come face to face, bringing his face towards yours for a kiss. Thereâs a desperation in the way your lips slide against each other. He licks the seam of your lips and you open up for him, letting your tongues twirl.
Your fingers find the waistband of his trousers, eager to take him when suddenly, you hear a crunch of gravel and a cloud of chatter drifting towards the clearing.
Youâve got company.
âYOONGI-YAHHHHH!!â
You peel yourself away from Yoongi, scooting backward to create a respectable distance.
Your eyes bulge at the obvious bulge tenting his pants and when you gaze up, Yoongiâs tonguing the inside of his cheek as he chucks his discarded jacket in front of him as cover.
There are two guys bounding over with their cameras and backpacks. Two very good-looking guys, actually, and you could not help but wonder which factory Yoongi and his friends came from because how are they the finest fucking specimens youâve seen in your life? They can even compete with your Tae-Tae, and youâve never said this of anyone ever.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â Yoongi scowls like he is suspicious.
âWeâre filming for our vlog!â The tall one with a perm and bunny teeth chirps cheerily.
âArenât you going to introduce us, hyung,â the blonde with pink lips tilts his head towards you.
Yoongi sighs like a man whoâs lived a hard-knock life. âThis is Y/N. And these,â he gestures vaguely, âare the pains in my ass.â
âJimin,â the blonde says, smiling like he knows heâs irresistible.
âJungkook,â the other adds with a wink.
âHi boys,â you say with a lilt of your lips. Something about the way these two are grinning prettily at you just spells trouble with a capital T. âSo youâre vlogging? Whatâs the name of your channel?â
âAre you sure?â
âYeahâŠ?â
âNo, thatâs the name of the channel.â
âOh!â You nod, feeling a bit silly.
âYou havenât answered my question.â Yoongi gives them a pointed look, interrupting your exchange. âWhy are you two here? Of all the mountains in the world.â
âAh, donât worry your pretty little head about that, hyung.â Jimin says, knocking Yoongiâs shoulder as he cross-sits beside his elder, then reaching for a sandwich. âThis is just a happy coincidence.â
Yoongi mumbles to Jimin and you hear the words Seokjin and meddling.
âOh this is good!âÂ
You turn to Jungkook who already has an entire sandwich in his mouth, chewing with brows furrowed intensely.
âYeah. Japanese mayo, gochujang, and a drizzle of honey.â
âOhhhâŠâ He nods, already shoving another down his throat. âIsso goo.â
You glance at Yoongi. Heâs fighting a smile and shaking his head.
âY/N-noona, can we shoot? You can say no, of course. But this spread is fire and I want to include it in the vlog.â Jimin asks with a toothy grin, holding up his Osmo.
You shrug, cool either way. Yoongi waves a dismissive hand to the two. âAish! Do what you want.â
The pair instantly shifts into full vlogger mode, rambling about their hike: the weather, the wind, the incline that apparently âkilled their calves.â Then they gush about stumbling onto this pretty clearing and âmeeting some friends on the trail.â On cue, Jimin swings the camera around and aims the lens right at you and Yoongi.
You give a small wave. Yoongi does this: :]
Jungkook, apparently the food expert between the two, starts speaking about the perfect hiking date grub. They focus on the spread for a bit, pointing to each item, and gushing about whatâs good. Jungkook talks about your sandwiches like youâre a chef in a Michelin star restaurant and you canât help but already be so fond. Flattery gets you every time.
Then Jimin swings the camera back to you, and suddenly all three men are staring like youâre the main character of their show. You get a little flustered, not that youâll ever admit it.
âY/N-noona,â Jungkook starts dramatically. You already know heâs up to something. âNever mind who you came here with, youâve got three choices. Whoâd you want to date?â
âWhat???â Lmao. Youâre breathless all of a sudden and itâs not the altitude.
âYou heard him,â Jimin double-downs on the ask. âWeâre all single here.â
âOh my god, you guys,â you cover your face with your palms, super embarrassed at being put on the spot.
Jungkook chimes in instantly. âI work out a lot, noona. My stamina is fuckinââ
âMy ass is unbelievable.â Jimin says without batting an eye lash. âPlus Iâm taller than hyung.â
He isnât. Theyâre about the same nugget size.
You let out a short laugh, not even looking at Yoongi and what kind of faces heâs pulling at this point.. âYouâre both⊠adorable, okay? But Iâm choosing Yoongi.â
âAre you sure?!â they both shoutâall exaggerated gasps and fake shockâand it takes you a second before you realize theyâre parroting the catchphrase and title of their show.
You break into a full laugh. âYeah, Iâm sure.â
âYeaaaaaaahhhh!â
This is so stupid.
Yoongiâs neck has gone pink, just like his gums that are on full display. But beneath the shy flush, there is something else there. An unmistakable smugness even as he looks away, pretending itâs not a big deal.
They stop rolling, finally satisfied with their chaotic content, and for a few minutes the four of you fall into easy small talkâthe kind that happens when new acquaintances are still circling each other, figuring out the vibe. Jungkookâs already taken over the speaker, pairing his phone to Yoongiâs Marshall like heâs done it before and an English R&B track floats through. You chat about Physical Asia on Netflix, that new viral Kancho snack with names, and also what you do for work. Itâs pleasant and Yoongiâs friends are really quite easy to talk to.
âArenât you both leaving soon?â Yoongi quips after a while. The tone isnât rude. Itâs just Yoongi being Yoongi. And honestly? You kind of like that he wants you to himself.
With a shit-eating grin, Jimin grabs his pack. âAlright, alright. Weâre out.â
Jungkook picks up a bunch of grapes, plucking one with his mouth like Cleopatra, before mumbling his thanks and goodbyes.
âHyung, you pullinâ up to Seokjin-hyungâs birthday?â Jimin asks, adjusting his beanie.
âLike I have a choice.â Yoongi responds flatly.
âNoona, you should come through.â Jungkook says, pointing at you before slinging on his backpack. âHyungâs like 70% less grumpy when youâre around. Maybe even 80.â
You laugh; Yoongi glares; Jimin drags Jungkook away by the hood.
When the two leave, the world suddenly feels quiet. The breeze flips a lock of your hair. You say nothing for a bit because thereâs nothing to say. You like the calm, comforting feeling that wraps you and Yoongi as if the mountains are holding its breath.
âIâm sorry for those two,â he says, tilting his head.
âWhat? No. They were really fun,â you say, not just to placate him, but because you did find the maknaes amusing. âI didnât mind them crashing our date.â
âThey ate all your sandwiches.â
âFoodâs meant to be shared.â
He smiles before it transforms into a pout. âI didnât get to taste it, though.â
Oh, so thatâs why heâs all grumbly.
âYou snooze, you lose.â You shrug, teasing, before leaning towards him playfully. âOkay you big baby. Iâll make you sandwiches, however many you want.â
âYou better,â he says. âPromise you didnât get annoyed?â
âNo, butâŠâ
âButâŠ?â
âI kinda want to pick up where we left off?â
âWe should get going too,â he murmurs, though his arm is already curling around your waist, guiding you back into the space between his legs.
âFive more minutes?â You ask.
He closes the distance between your faces. Smirks against your lips. âMaybe 10?â
You make out for a few glorious minutes. Where earlier felt frantic, this is slower, mellow, almost indulgent. His tongue moves like warm caramel, coating your mouth, letting you swirl yours against his before he puckers around your lower lip and sucks gently. When you pull apart, a thin string of saliva stretches between you until it snaps. He drags his thumb across your bottom lip, eyes fixed on your mouth like heâs thinking about diving in again.
Later, walking back down the trail, you take his hand. Not because you need it, but because you want to. He squeezes your fingers and something new flutters in your chest. Youâre used to one-night, quick hits, that adrenaline rush. But this feeling, steady, secure, though a little less frenetic, feels like something else. And you think youâd much prefer it than those quick fades.
When he drops you at home, he opens the door for you and you step inside, letting your pack slide from your arms.
âThanks for today.â
âThank you for coming with me,â he replies.
You close the distance, catching his mouth with yours. The kiss deepens fast, your tongue slipping against his in a slow curl that pulls a low groan from his throat. When you pull back, he leans forward instinctively, chasing the taste of you like heâs not ready to let it go.
âOkay, er⊠I,â he laughs at his shoe.Â
You hum. All innocent, like you didnât kiss the shit out of him just a second ago.
âI should go,â he murmurs. âIf I donât, Iâm staying.â
âYou say that like itâs a bad thing.â
âIt isnât, fuck, I want to, butâ,â he admits, eyes softening.
âItâs okay, baby,â you say cupping his cheek. His mouth forms the shape of an O. Was it because you called him baby? His lips part further. Yeah, the baby did something to him.
You get why he wants to waitâyou really do. But a bit of honesty feels fair. He strikes you as the kind of guy who wants real, not guesswork. You inhale sharply, letting yourself be brave and a little vulnerable. âYou should know, Iâm not interested in anyone else, Yoongi. You probably think I might ghost you after but⊠I actually really like you. Youâre hot, obviously, but youâre sweet and thoughtful and I just reallyâŠâ
His hand comes up to hold your face against his warm palms. âIâm into you. Youâre smart and incredibly sexy,â Then, the corner of his mouth curls, and he leans in, voice a low rasp. âAnd Iâm gonna fuck the shit out of you, okay? I promise. But my knees are killing me and I wanna be at 100.â
You choke on a laugh, pressing your forehead briefly in his shoulder. âYouâre stupid.â
âIf Iâm being for real,â Yoongi whines. âMy back hurts, too.â
âWhat a grandpa. Should I send you off with some painkillers?â
âOh, you just wait.â His fingers skim your ribs in a mischievous tickle that makes you squirm slightly. âWhen I fuckinâ recover, youâre not gonna be able to walkâŠâ
âPromises, promisesâŠâ you sing-song.
He shakes his head.
You give him a little shove, playful. âGo. Drive safe. Text me when you get home.â
His eyes turn into little crescent moons as he slips out the door. âBye, baby.â
You climb the stairs, hair mussed, heart light, memories of pear-sweet kisses, gentle truths, and mountain air floating behind you.Â
To be continued⊠[Date no. 6]
A/N: Weâre getting closer yâallâŠÂ
See you in the comments and please reblog this with your review if you enjoyed. Itâs the best way you can show your support. đ
‷ summary: two-player games are always more fun than single-playerâlet the games begin
â¶ pairing: jungkook x reader
â¶ word count: 7.8k+
18+ // mdni
â¶ genre: established relationship au, fluff, smut, pwp
â¶ content: gamer!jk (+ streamer!jk) x brat!reader (+ bimbo!reader)
â¶ warnings: explicit language, crying, oc being a bit manipulative? (nothing serious), explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, spanking, groping, cockwarming, unprotected sex, a bit of dirty talk, degrading & praising, dom!jk being a little mean, creampie... am I missing anything? lmk
⏠a/n: I had most of this written already b4 jk did all those gaming livestreams so descriptions may be off but he is very much THIS JK in my mind now & as always jump in my ask or in the comments telling me what you think, I love talking to you all!! angel xoxo p.s *not fully edited*
Ëâș. àŒ¶ NOW PLAYING àŒ¶ .âșË
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lana del rey
01:43 ââźâââââ 03:07
â âČ II âł âș
ᎠáŽÊáŽáŽáŽ : âźâźâźâźâźâźâźâźâźâź
main masterlist Ë.âË.âË.â join my taglist
This is unacceptable.
Itâs blasphemous, youâre sure of it.
A manâs duty is to help and love a woman. Thatâs what they were made for.
Jungkook was made for you, and you were made for him.
So, his being absorbed in this âpew-pewâ game and not you is basically sacrilegious.
Hours. Itâs been several hours. Multiple minutes. Countless seconds. Itâs been way too long since Jungkook has given you any attention.
It would have been fine if it were his stream night; you have sat around waiting for him to finish streaming before, but tonight isnât his stream night. Yet there he sits, locked in on round⊠you donât even know anymore, youâve lost count at this pointâwith his best friends Jimin and Taehyung.
Despite having zero interest in gaming, you love having a gamer boyfriend. You think Jungkook looks so hot when heâs focused on playing, and you find him absolutely adorable when heâs raving about a game to you.
Unfortunately, having a skilled player as a boyfriend comes with friends who are almost just as experienced as he is, so thatâs why youâre left ignored while they all are in the midst of a tournament. Thus, your sexy, talented boyfriend is now your rude, sexy, talented boyfriend.
Jungkook is playing with his friends when he should be playing with you. And you mean playing with you. Not some silly, stupid game.
You huff and sigh dramatically, lying back on his pillows. Watching the mood lights in his room change for so long that youâve memorized the colour sequence. You roll over, push your face into the pillow and let out a muffled groan, kicking your feet like a frustrated toddler before rolling around on his bed, but still, he does not move a single inch. Nothing takes Jungkookâs attention from the two monitors of his gaming setup, the screen illuminating across his face.
âLetâs advance forward. Tae, protect my right. Jimin, fall back and stay on guard,â he speaks into the mic. You roll your eyes.
You gifted him the headset for his last birthday, and now you feel like youâve committed an act of self-sabotage. But you still remember his precious bunny smile and all the kisses that were scattered on your face when he opened it up, and how it was so worth it to hear, âIâm so lucky. I have the best girl.â
Now, all you can hear is the clicking of his keyboard as his fingers move fast over the keys. His head moves slightly back and forth as his eyes jump between the two screens, laser-focused, making sure not to miss a thing.
Youâve run out of tasks to keep you distracted: reapplied your lip gloss that never got ruined, brushed your hair that never moved out of place, and touched up your makeup that never needed fixing. In summary, you look as perfect as you did when you got here at Jungkookâs place, which is just a tragedy. He should have already made a beautiful mess out of you at least three times by now. But here you sit untouched, all you got was a single hug and a peck on the lips when you arrived. Itâs sinful, honestly.
You take a deep breath to settle your bubbling tantrum before you get up and walk over to him. His gaming setup takes up almost half the space in his relatively small room. The only other furniture in it is his bed in the corner and a bookshelf to hold all his manga books, which is so full that the collection continues to grow with stacks littered around the floor. There is barely enough room for his gaming chair to swivel around without knocking into something. But you love the limited space because thereâs nothing you love more than sticking close to Jungkook in his dark, cozy room, surrounded by his mood lights and the walls covered with posters and polaroids of you.
At first, you lean over his shoulder innocently, watching the screen with your hands clasped behind your back and rest your chin on his shoulder without disturbing him⊠yet.
You didnât wear this new outfit to be ignored; a cute pink and white frilly skirt that matches your thigh-high white and pink socks, a sheer white low-cut top and a pink bow headband perfecting the look. You demand attention. If Jungkook wonât give you the attention you deserve, then you will take it.
âBloodrunners, straight ahead! Weapons up! Advance!â Taehyung yells. You flinch at how loud his voice is; you can hear it coming through Jungkookâs headset while he remains unaffected by the noise.
âRush forward. Do not retreat. Weâre outnumbered, but they arenât as fast; we can still overtake them. Once we pass through Mercury Valley, we are halfway to Silvertop Mountain,â Jungkook says calmly with his brows furrowed in concentration.
He curses under his breath when he narrowly dodges an attack, but shows his expert gaming skills when he manages to kill the ugly Bloodwhatever keeping him from you.
âShit, nice kill, JK,â Jimin chuckles.
With him still barely paying you attention, you up your ante.
You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of it, his musky scent mixed with the faint smell of weed, pushing you closer to the edge.
Jungkook looks all comfy and cuddly in his black beanie, hoodie and his new pair of glasses. His chest feels hard under your touch, your hands itching to touch his bare skin. And you want nothing more than to run your tongue over every vein on his muscular body, but clearly, your presence isnât significant right now because his big eyes stay glued to the screen.
No response is given from the man in front of you, whoâs too immersed in the damn game of his, which makes you purse your lips in annoyance. Only until you start to place wet, open-mouth kisses at the side of his neck, biting gently, does he finally respond. Jungkook lets out a tiny hiss before tsking, softly shrugging his shoulder and pulling away gently.
You donât move despite his hint to leave him alone; it isnât uncommon for you to bug him while he plays. Heâs used to handling your bratty behaviour.
âNot now, babe,â he murmurs, pressing the keyboardâs button repeatedly.
You pout, whimpering.
Youâre still close enough to hear from his headset to hear Jimin speak.
âIs Y/N there? Tell her I say âHiâ,â Jimin says, his voice too chirpy that it would set you off if you didnât actually like the guy. Damn Jimin and his friendliness.
âYeah,â Jungkook answers simply.
âHi, Jimin,â your voice sweet as you reply, but you gaze at your annoyingly handsome manâs profile with your best puppy dog eyes.
Taehyung speaks, chuckling as he asks, âDude, why didnât you tell us she was over?â
âSheâs always over, sheâs my girlfriend,â he quickly mumbles, then sticks out his tongue as he hits a few buttons before rapid gun shooting sounds go off.
âKoo,â you whine when Jungkook totally ignores you once again, âHow much longer are you going to play?â
âI donât know. Weâre in the middle of a tournament,â Jungkook replies mindlessly.
âIâm bored,â you drawl.
He doesnât even spare you a glance, his face glowing in the light of his screen. He hums, making you wonder if heâs even listening to you.
You lift one side of his headset off his ear, instantly receiving a fit of complaints.
âBabe, come on. This is important. Iâll do anything you want later,â he grumbles, waving you away.
âBut I want attention now,â whining loudly, hands clenched into fists, stomping like a bratty child, but you really donât care. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
âI canât deal with your neediness right now,â he says so quickly, probably not even realizing what he said and how cold he sounds, too engrossed in the game.
Sighing, you stand there, arms crossed, looking grumpier than ever, while you listen to the constant keyboard smashing and clicking caused by Jungkookâs quick fingers. His long fingers that should be wrapped around your throat as he pounds into you, that should be moving fast in and out of your wet pussy as he calls you âhis dumb, needy little slutâ. He should be occupied with you, not his friends and this ridiculous âpew-pewâ game.
Well, fine then, you can play your own game.
You stand straight, toss your hair over your shoulder with a little âhmphâ for added flair, grab your purse and begin to go around his room collecting the items you have lying around and shoving them into the baby pink leather handbag: lip gloss, cellphone, cardigan. If heâs going to deprive you of his attention, then you will deprive him of you. You will not stay here a second longer if he doesnât care if youâre here or not.
Jungkook sees you moving around from the corner of his eye, and he quickly turns his head to glance at you, then back at his screens, but he asks, âWhat are you doing?â
âPacking my stuff,â you answer short and unbothered, giving him a tiny shrug.
On the inside, youâre all giddy that heâs finally talking to you, but you donât let it show on the outside, though. You wonât let him see through your cracks that easily.
That catches Jungkookâs attention, and his eyes slightly widen in surprise and confusion. He turns his head to look at you completely now, his hands hovering over the keyboard, âWhy?â
You complete your performance by looking around the room to see if youâve left anything before you turn slowly and blink at him as if you were unaffected and announce, âIâm leaving.âÂ
With that, you twist the doorknob, yank the door open and slip out before he can get a word out. You take your time walking down the hallway; you have no intentions of actually putting on your heels, but you still bend over to make your exit more dramatic.
You hear Jungkookâs muffled voice through his bedroom door, âShit. AFK, Iâm fucked,â followed by the sound of his gaming chair rolling back, and his rushed footsteps.
When the door swings open behind you and the glow of his mood lights flood into the dark hallway, you smile to yourself.
Y/N: 1 Jungkook: 0
He grabs your arm, pulling you up and trying to spin you around. You try to wiggle your arm free from his grasp, throwing a fit in a fake objection. Of course, heâs too strong, and you end up facing him, glossy lips form a little pout, and your brows furrow just the slightest. Your eyes tear up as if youâre upset, when truthfully, itâs from his touch and having his firm hands back on your body where they belong.
âHey,â he says, voice soft and soothing. His big hands rub up and down your arms, trying to comfort you.
Ugh, even his innocent touches set off sparks in your body. You hate how your frustration vanishes just by him doing the smallest thingâthatâs a lie, you love it.
You sniffle.
âCome back to the room,â Jungkook tells you. He has to bend down to look you in your eyes, behind the clear lenses, his big eyes dart between yours.
Your bottom lip trembles as tears roll down your cheeks, âNo. I donât want to.â
Jungkook cups your face in his palms, thumbs wiping away your tears, âWhy not? Why are you leaving?â he asks.
âBecause youâre ignoring me!â you sob, shoulders sagging.
With your head hanging down, you donât see Jungkookâs tongue roll against the inside of his cheek, trying not to laugh at how cute you are.
âBaby,â he coos, âI wasnât ignoring you, I was just focused on winning the tournament.â
You blink wide-eyed, basking in his affection, no matter how minor. But your tantrum is not over just yet. Youâre a spoiled brat whoâs been neglected by your Jungkook for too long.
âI dressed up all pretty for you and youâve barely even looked at me,â you whine in a whisper, pouting your lips full on. You hold out your skirt to emphasize.
Jungkook smiles softly, and his fingers play with the edge of the puffy fabric. He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers running down your cheek and to your neck, wrapping his big hand around it just below your jaw to crane it up so youâre looking at him.
âI noticed. Got all dressed up for me, hmm? My pretty girl,â he croons gently.
You nod, like a plaintive child, âI just want to spend time with youâŠâ you mutter, pouting as you slightly rock on your heels, your voice trembling.
His hands reach for your hips as he brings you closer to him, and you let him.
âCome back to the room and once I finish this last roundââ
âYouâre still going to play more?â you huff, cutting him off. You cross your arms and stomp your foot in protest, âI donât want to come back if youâre still going to ignore me.â
âWeâll make a compromise, okay? Just donât leave. Come back to the room,â he negotiates, pinching your chin to tilt your face up to meet his eyes, and cocking his head to the side slightly.
You try to keep your knees from giving out. Youâre a weak, weak girl when it comes to Jungkook. The fact that youâre his girl still makes you get butterflies in your stomach. Heâs too hot to stay fake upset with.
You try to hold back your smile and gaze up at him through your long lashes.
âJust one more round?â you ask, voice soft and delicate.
Jungkook hums in response, brushing his nose against yours before placing a soft kiss to it and then to your cheek, âJust one more round and then Iâll take care of my babygirl. Iâm all yours.â
Your face flushes, your eyes light up, and youâre so excited that all you can do is nod in agreement. You donât care what the hell he meant when he said âcompromiseâ; all you care about is the promise of him taking care of you, because you know exactly what he means by that. And no one takes better care of you than Jungkook.
He adjusts his glasses, then spanks the side of your butt lightly, âThatâs my girl. Come on, princess, letâs go.â
You follow him back into his bedroom, he settles back into his gaming chair and then pats his thighs for you to sit on his lap. You have to hold in your squeal and hurry to take your place. He pulls you to his lap, you sit straddling his waist, facing him, knees at the sides of his hips, scooting as close to him as you can with your arms wrapping around his neck as you snuggle your face into it.
Jungkook chuckles at the way you cling to him like a baby, sitting on his lap as if you canât be away from him for a second. His hand caresses your hip, and he gives your temple a kiss.
You position yourself so his cock is nestled right under your pussy, and you can feel the length through his sweatpants right along your folds. You wiggle slightly, pretending to get more comfortable, but Jungkook doesnât fall for your trick. He grunts and forcefully grips your hips to still you.
âYou have to behave,â he warns, grabbing your chin and pushing you back so youâre looking him in the eyes.
âMhm,â you absentmindedly agree, placing a kiss on his jaw as you slowly start kissing his neckâyour secret weapon. He lets you kiss, suck, and occasionally bite his skin for a few seconds.
âBabyâŠâ his tone stern as he lowers his voice, âYou have to be a good girl if youâre going to sit here with me.â
You bounce gently on his lap, clutching a fistful of his shirt in both your hands, your drag out a whine before complaining, âBut you said compromise! Being in your lap and you still ignoring me is even worse!â
âDonât be so dramatic. It wonât take long,â Jungkook rolls his eyes playfully at you, âJust be patient.â
You sneak your hand between your bodies to his crotch and squeeze his soft bulge.
Fuck, heâs playing a dirty game. He isnât wearing anything underneath his sweats, and you have to stop your moan from slipping out.
âNow youâre not being fair,â Jungkook groans, letting you rub his bulge as you smirk against his neck. You feel his dick harden in your hold.
âThen hurry and do something,â you whine, wetness accumulating between your thighs from your shameless horniness.
Jungkook chuckles, âIâm not fucking you while I game with the guys,â he murmurs cheekily.
You look at him with cute, wide eyes and nod, âI know. I justâI wanna be close to you.â
You pout, fingers scratching at the base of his neck, hands playing with the hair sticking out from his beanie. He leans into your touch as you whisper, âWanna feel you while you play. Iâll be good, I promise.â
He hides a grin, licking his bottom lip as his gaze momentarily falls onto your lips. When it shifts back up, you see the shift; his eyes darken.
âYou know what?â Jungkook hums in a low tone, rubbing small circles on your ass before giving it a smack, âTake off your panties,â he tells you.
You gasp and your eyes sparkle in excitement as you meet his gaze. Youâre frozen, staring at him with wide eyes, but when he cocks his brow at you and motions with his hand for you to do as he said, you quickly obey.
Y/N: 2 Jungkook: 0
You take off your panties with his eyes on you the entire time, his tongue poking out to play with his lip rings. Tossing the soaked thong on the ground, you stand in front of him with your hands clasped before you, waiting obediently for his next order.
He cocks his head at his bulge, now much more evident due to his growing arousal.
âPull me out,â he commands.
You donât hesitate to drop to your knees, looking up at him, you hook your fingers under the hem of his sweatpants, and he lifts his hips just a little bit to help you take them off. His hardening cock gets freed with his sweats slid down to his thighs. It stands upright, still growing and hardening as you lick your lips at the sight. You have to swallow the drool wanting to run down your chin.
Youâre about to go in for a taste, ready to run your tongue from his base to tip, needing to have him in your mouth, but Jungkook cuts you off before you can even get close to it.
âStand up,â he instructs.
You watch him submissively as you rise to your feet, and he raises his index finger, curling it, wordlessly signalling you to come closer.
With anticipation tingling through you, your nerves are a mess as the thrill of awaiting his touch takes over. Youâre about to open your mouth to rush him, but all you get out is a whimper when you suddenly feel his hand between your thighs, two fingers rubbing your pussy.
He rubs your wet folds and circles your clit as you desperately grind into his hand. When he suddenly pulls his hand away, youâre on the verge of crying real tears instead of crocodile ones you shed earlier. You honestly could cum just from his hands alone, thatâs how far gone you are.
Ready to sob out your disapproval, you down just in time to see him put his fingers in his mouth and suck them clean. All while staring you dead in the eye.
Fuck. Youâre sure Jungkook was put on this earth to ruin you.
And you thank the heavens for it every day.
Jungkook grabs you by your hips and pulls you onto his lap. His voice is raspy with authority as he orders, âSit.â
You glance down again and see Jungkook gripping his length with one hand while the other stays on your hip, gently guiding you. The second you feel his tip grazing over your hole, you gasp and feel your thighs quiver.
Jungkook pushes his tip inside of you, his hand on your hip, slowly pulling you down on his lap. You moan softly when you feel how he stretches you. He slides in effortlessly from how wet you are, and you hear him sigh out in pleasure when your walls pulse around him.
You finally take him fully, whimpering as your ass meets his thighs. Your position is similar to before, but now without the barriers below the waist, allowing you to feel your skin against his. You relax into him, your hands resting on his chest. You lean your forehead onto his shoulder and close your eyes. Jungkook reaches between your thighs and gives your clit a few slow circles to help you relax. You breathe out in relief at putting an end to the excruciating wait you had to endure to have Jungkook back close to you, on you, in you. Basking in having all his attention return to just you and your needy cunt.
Jungkookâs gentle actions contrast with his following words. His deep and raspy voice reaches your ears as his soft lips brush your temple as he mutters, âGood. Now, if you even think of cumming before I finish this tournament, youâre going to regret it.â
Your eyes snap open, and you turn your head towards him as he rolls his gaming chair closer to the desk.
âHuh?â you mumble in confusion, your mind already fucked out without him even having started.
âYou heard me,â he tells you, barely giving you a glance as he picks up his headset and puts it back on, âAnd you better keep quiet, I donât want the guys hearing your needy little moans through the mic.â
âKoo,â you cry.
âYou wanted a compromise,â he tells you, âThis is it.â
âYouâre a meanie,â you grumble, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.
âOh? So do you want to get off and go wait on the bed then?â he smirks, an amused tilt to his tone because he already knows your answer.
Y/N: 2 Jungkook: 1
With your face still hidden, you defeatedly shake your head. Letting out a defiant whine as you wrap your arms around his neck again and cling to him tighter.
With your chest pressed to his, you feel the vibration rumble through his chest as Jungkook quietly chuckles under his breath. Such a big, hot meanieâŠ
Jungkook gives you a side glance and notices the sulky pout on your face. He brings a hand down and squeezes your butt, attempting to console you a bit.
âHey, I said I would take care of you after, didnât I?â he brings his other hand up and pushes your hair back over your shoulder to reveal more of your face, âAnd why are you hiding your pretty face from me? Let me see.â
You sit up so he can see your face, your hands sliding down his chest. Your pout is still on full display as tears gather along your waterline.
âThereâs my babygirl,â he smiles sweetly as if heâs not currently torturing you. His thumb gently glides along the apple of your cheek as he watches you fondly.
You fiddle with the hem of his hoodie and peer up at him through your lashes, your eyes as glossy as your untouched lips. Which reminds youâ
âIâm still actually a little upset with you,â you mutter.
âHmm? And why is that?â he asks with a serious tone, but he corners of his mouth twitch to contain his grin.
âYou still havenât kissed me properly yet.â
He tilts his head to the side and tsks, âShit, youâre right.â
His hand travels to the back of your neck and pulls you in. He kisses you slowly yet all too quick, his tongue momentarily slipping into your mouth, and you hum contentedly. He grabs your face with his large hand, digging his fingers into your cheeks before he squeezes and pushes you back, leaving just a few inches between your lips.
âBetter now?â
No. Improvement? Yes. Better? A big fat no.
Jungkook continues to act as if his dick is not deeply nestled inside of you, making you even more sexually frustrated at this man and his self-restraint. His attention and his hands are on you, but not where you want them to be; thatâs for sure, so your situation is nowhere near better in your mind.
However, you know once Jungkook wins this tournamentâwhich you know he will win without a doubt because heâs the best⊠duhâhe will deliver on his promise of taking care of you, giving you anything and everything you desire. He always does.
So with your cheeks still squished and your lips pursed, you nod.
He smiles and shakes your head back and forth like a rag doll, âIs my good girl going to sit quietly with me until the tournament is over?â
You love being claimed by him; it never fails to shoot straight to your core. Upon hearing it, you whimper and clench around him, grinding your hips a little, which earns you a disapproving grunt in return.
âBehave,â he orders all of a sudden in a low and warning tone, causing you to stop your shameless grinding as you glance at him, âI donât want to have to punish you if you donât,â he says with a firm tone when you take a moment to react.
You shiver, not because of his scolding but the fact youâre stuffed full with Jungkookâs cock.
âIâm sorry, Iâll behave, Iâll be good,â you swallow down a moan, but continue to shamelessly grind with his cock inside of you because you definitely donât mind the idea of him punishing you. And despite his dominance, you know for a fact he loves it when you act like a brat.
âYou better,â he gives you a pointed look, âNow be quiet,â he says before turning the mic on.
âIâm back,â he announces, adjusting the mouthpiece.
âDamn, finally! Letâs meet up by the wheat field and regroup,â Jimin says
âYeah, I need to re-up on ammo,â Taehyung agrees.
âBut how did it go? Did you come back a single man?â Jimin laughs.
âAre you even still a man, or did she rip off your dicââ Taehyung jokes.
âEverythingâs fine. My girl and I are none of your concern,â he interrupts sharply.
Your whole body buzzes, and your face gets flushed, your eyes glancing at Jungkookâs side profile as you find him staring at the screen with a clenched jaw. You look at him while he looks past you, typing away.
The pair of friendsâ laughter carries through the headset. Taehyung swiftly replies, âMan, sounds like someone needs to get laid.â
A quiet gasp leaves your open mouth because of the irony.
Yes, someone in fact does need to get laid, Taehyung. And that someone is you, but this âBloodrusherâ game is cockblocking all your attempts!
Itâs almost comical; his cock is fully erected and still inside of you, but somehow, it feels like heâs not touching you enough; you still yearn for more of him.
Your body moves naturally, still desperate for some friction as you grind, wanting to feel Jungkookâs cock move inside you, but youâre immediately scolded and warned by Jungkook when he finally meets your eyes and shakes his head.
After that, youâre on your best behaviour for a while. Keep your promise and let Jungkook play as you sit pretty on his cock like a good girl. Jungkook is fully engrossed in it once again, with his mouth hanging open slightly and his glasses reflecting the light as his eyes move frantically across the screens.
He really expects you to just sit on his cock? What kind of freak is he?
Youâre beyond annoyed and frustrated, hating how deprived you feel, yet the whole situation is so fucking hot. Itâs like some form of advanced foreplay, a new experience that is surprisingly very arousing for you.
Jungkook continues to game without doing anything else; his breath gets hitched every now and then, but besides that, he barely reacts. Heâs so sexy even when he barely does anything. Something about him ignoring you while balls deep in you makes you soaking wet. Itâs almost like youâre so irresistible to him that he has to be connected to you. Needs you just as bad as you need him, even if he doesnât act like it.
He keeps talking into the headset using gamer lingo that sounds like nothing but gibberish to you, but youâre so far gone youâve tuned out all the commentary. You feel so full of him, desperate for him to grip the armrest and thrust inside you like he usually does. Desperate for him to grab your breast and squeeze it, to deliver a few slaps on your ass, and grip your hips tightly so you can hear the sinful sounds of your body meeting his.
Thatâs it! Youâve been good long enough; now itâs time to take action. Brat mode is now fully activated.
You press your lips to the side of his neck. Jungkookâs body tenses and stills for a split second, but he pays you no mind.
Okay. So thatâs how Kookie wants to play? Heâd better be prepared to lose. This is one game you know you can beat him at.
Your kisses are light, keeping quiet so his mic doesnât pick up sound. Then you run your tongue along his neck and nibble at the vein running up it. You canât control the clench of your pussy when he subtly tilts his head to grant you better access. But when you pull back slightly to look at him, itâs as if youâre not dripping all over his cock and mouthing at his neckâwhich you know is his weak spot. If it werenât for his cock throbbing inside of you, you would think heâs ignoring you again. But he gives in to you. Just like he always does. All entirely for you and only for you.
Time to level up.
You give him soft kitten kisses all over his cheek while Jungkook plays, doing his best to ignore you just enough to seem unaffected. You âinnocentlyâ roll your hips, and Jungkook regards you silently, raising an eyebrow for a second, before not saying anything and returning right back to his game.
Jungkook barely gave any reaction the whole time youâve been bothering him. That is, until you lift off of his dick just an inch before sliding back down. Then it happens. Jungkook played well. He really did. But you know his cheat code: your pussy.
Jungkook quickly covers his mic and whispers scolding, âYou promised to behave.â
You look at him and nod cutely, âI am.â
You lean forward and suck his earlobe into your mouth, tongue playing with his earrings as you lift your hips again, then slowly go back down and grind forward, your clit rubbing against his pubes.
âYou really consider this me not being good to you, Kookie?â you whisper.
Jungkookâs jaw clenches, and he swallows thickly. He wets his bottom lip with a tip of his tongue in faux nonchalance.
As you raise your hips repeatedly, bouncing at a tormentingly slow pace, his eyes go back and forth between you and his monitors. He looks pained.
Your mouth opens in pleasure, but you donât let yourself moan. Your blissed-out expressions and the view of your body on top of Jungkookâs is enough to make his pupils blow out and his irises darken.
âFuck, youâre so dead after this,â Jungkook tells you through his clenched teeth, hands still skillfully playing the game as he shoots other players.
Y/N: 3 Jungkook: 1
âMy health bar is still in the yellow, it hasnât hit red yet,â Jimin replies, thinking Jungkook is referring to his character dying in the midst of the tournament.
You smile and hum. Your hands hold on to Jungkookâs shoulders for leverage as you raise up, only leaving his tip in before slamming back down so hard. The sound of your ass meeting his thighs echoes in the small room. His mouth drops open, and his eyebrows furrow. But thatâs all the reaction you get, no moan or touch. Inside of you, however, you can feel his length throb.
âYou keep making shit moves like you are, youâll get there in no time, buddy,â Taehyung snides.
You can tell how much he is struggling to maintain his facade by the way his breathing has picked up. Also, his responses to the guys have gotten shorter and less frequent. The most obvious sign of his resolve breaking is when he spreads his legs wider, causing his tip to hit that cushiony spot deep inside you as you sink even farther down onto his cock.
You gasp and look down at your tummy. You see a bulge protruding where Jungkookâs cock is, buried so deep inside of you. You rub your palm over it. Mm. So full. Filled with your Jungkook.
âYou fill me up so good, Kookie,â you whine high-pitched and breathy.
âShut up,â Jimin throws back, âLetâs invade Ashton Town, so we can take a shortcut to Silvertop.â
Finally, now that you have Jungkook near his breaking point, you use your killer move.
âUhâum, yeah. Letâsââ Jungkook clears his throat, âLetâs invadeâŠâ he says distractedly as you settle in his lap and sit still.
Youâre wrapped around his body, arms looped around his shoulders, and you have your face pressed into his neck again. Your position is identical to how it was when you first sat in his lap, but you definitely hold the upper hand now. Although youâre still just as desperate as always, and you want him so fucking bad. Itâs Jungkookâs turn to beg for your attention, for your touch. Youâve done that enough today.
He lasts barely a minute of you just cockwarming him before his hand comes up to cover his mic again, âMove,â his voice is raspy and strained. His face is flushed from arousal, and his struggle to fake ignorance about how badly he wants to fuck up into your tight little pussy.
Y/N: 4 Jungkook: 1
You shake your head, still hiding in his neck, âMm-mm.â
Youâre bratty, whiny and challenging. Thatâs nothing new. Jungkook knows that. Itâs never thrown him off or driven him away. From the moment he met you, heâs known how to deal with you. Heâs as skilled as a Y/N tamer as he is a gamer, and can maneuver through any mood youâre in as well as any video game.
You never thought youâd find a man to love all your quirky, unique traits. Then you met your Jungkook, and you were certain he was crafted just for you. Jungkook loves you wholeheartedly. And you love him more.
You hear him groan in annoyance, then give a short, âMic off,â before turning off his mic, ripping off his headset and throwing it on his desk, ignoring his friendsâ yells of complaint. You smile smugly into his neck.
Jungkook removes his glasses, placing them on his desk. He then grabs a handful of your hair, yanking your head back to make you look at him. You bite your lip to stop a satisfied grin from spreading on your face.
âYeah?â Jungkook asks breathlessly, feeling your walls pulse around him. His eyes flit all over your face, a little smirk on his lips, âToo bad I wasnât asking.â
âYouâve been acting cock hungry since you got here,â he drags your mouth to his, kissing you deeply, more tongue and teeth than anything. He bites hard on your bottom lip, pulling till it snaps back, âNow move,â He demands against your mouth.
When Jungkook gets rough and dominant, you know just how turned on he really is. The harsher he acts, the more horny he is.
And youâre such a simp for it. Youâre spoiled and bratty, but you also always want to be such a good girl for him. Yearning for his approval and to please him. Youâre so down bad for your Jungkook, youâd do anything for him. Well⊠anything but be patient.
So with your fingers locked behind his neck, you lift your hips, just keeping his swollen tip in before dropping back down onto his cock continuously. Your skin smacks against his as you try to set a fast pace while you whimper pathetically, âYouâre so deep inside me. Feels so so good, Koo,â you whisper, bouncing determinedly. Jungkookâs head falls back against the headrest, releasing a deep, loud moan.
âI love your pussy so fucking much. God, you drive me crazy,â he says, eyes closed, lost in the feeling of your soaking wet cunt sliding up and down his dick.
You manage to maintain your pace, his big hands slip under your skirt to grip your ass, pulling your cheeks apart. His rings feel cool against your hot skin as his fingers dig hard, surely enough to leave bruises, and the thought of him leaving marks on you makes you even wetter.
Youâre both still mostly clothed, and that, for some reason, makes this so much hotter. Both of you are too desperate and needy for each other to get naked, too turned on to stop and strip. Jungkook bunches the front of your skirt in his hand, pulling it up so he can see his length disappear in you. Your arousal is seeping down his shaft and getting all over him, and your poor little pussy is so red and swollen from the force of you slamming down onto his cock.
Soon, heâs using his strength to lift you up and bring you back down at the pace he wants. Not concerned at all about how it feels for you. Like youâre just some little doll made for him to use, and of course, you let him because thatâs precisely what you are. He can use you however he wants; youâll always give yourself up willingly to him. The pace he sets is one almost impossible for you to keep up with. Not only is it fast, but itâs hard.
He bites his lip as he watches you bounce, endless gasps and whines fall from your mouth and fill the room.
âThis is what you wanted, huh? Couldnât just sit in my lap and wait for me to finish the tournament, you just had to act like a dumb, needy little slut,â he husks, âHmm, but youâre mine, my dumb, needy little slut.â
Yes, his dumb, needy little slut. Made just for him. All his. Only his, forever.
You cradle his face, hands on his cheeks, so you can look him in his eyes. You nod frantically, chanting, âYes, all yours, always yours.â
He moans as you continue to bounce, soft pants falling from your mouth as you let him make you feel good. His hands grip your tiny waist, his pinkies almost touching.
âI canât,â you say, breathless. Slowed down, but your hips are still moving.
âCanât what?â he asks.
âKeep going. Mâ tiredâŠâ you mumble, âHelp?â
He hums, âNo,â he says, shaking his head.
You want to scream, but you whine instead, âWhy not?â
âYou wanted my attention so bad, and now you got it. So keep going, princess,â he smacks your ass in emphasis.
You tug the hair at the nape of his neck to show how desperately you just want him to take over and fuck you however he thinks you deserve; whether to punish you for being so impatient when you should have just sat in his lap and been a good girl for him, or to reward you for just being his cute, pretty girlfriend. You donât give a damn about the reason. All you want is for him to take control. You tug a harder until youâre sure it stings a little, âPlease, Kookie.â
âI said, no,â he hisses, gripping you by your throat and squeezing lightly. As you gasp in shock, your pussy clenches.
Oh, heâs horny, horny. Eek! Youâre about to get wrecked.
Jungkook grunts, âFuck you like getting choked, youââ he doesnât finish his sentence. He grits his teeth, hands digging into your ass, and you feel him throb inside of you, âShit, get to work and make me cum. If you want to finish, you gotta do it yourself.â
Youâre exhausted, your thighs and knees are killing you, but you try to keep a pace fast enough to have you both reach your climax. Youâre pussy is leaking down Jungkookâs cock, you can hear it squelching every time you bottom out, your slick making his lower abdomen shiny and sticky. His hoodie is bunched up just high enough for you to see his abs flex and tense as he gets closer.
âMy sweet, sweet girl,â he caresses your thigh, then slides his hand over your belly and uses his thumb to circle your clit, helping you reach your orgasms like you knew he would, despite his earlier words.
âSo perfect for me. Taking such good care of me, right, babygirl?â
You nod and whimper, never halting your movements. One of your most favourite things is to be coddled by Jungkook, constantly needy and desperate for his affection. Always so needy and desperate when it comes to him.
âDoing so good for me, so proud of you. Iâm so close, baby. You can keep going for me, canât you?â he coos.
Tears are now streaming down your face. A tiny sob slips past your lips, and again youâre nodding frantically, because yes, you can keep going. Thatâs the reason youâre crying, not from pleasure or exhaustion but because this is what youâve been craving for hours.
Jungkook leans back farther into the chair, hands coming up to fondle your tits. His mouth is parted and his eyes are hazy as he watches you with pure ecstasy, âFuck yeah, thatâs it, baby, just like that⊠make me cumââ his eyes squeeze shut behind his glasses and his back arches off the chair. The hands on your boobs tighten as he grunts.
âPlease, fill me up, Koo,â you beg, using your last burst of energy to fasten your pace, âBeen such a good girl for you, need you to cum inside me,â you hiccup, as you cry for him.
Jungkook nods along with your words, raspy moans coming out with every breath he takes. He looks unbelievably sexy. His face is scrunched in pleasure, and heâs looking at you when his eyes start to flutter and his brows furrow. He whispers, his voice rough and deep, âYouâre gonna make me cum, baby. Shit⊠Iâm so closeââ
His body tenses, and his hands move down to your hips, holding you down with a grip so hard it hurts, âFuck, Iâm cumming, Iâm cummingâfuck, baby,â his mouth falls open, whines tumble from his lips, and he cums. His big cock throbs as he spills inside of you. You can feel every pulse of it, can feel every spurt of cum fill you to the brim.
Even through his own climax, he reaches down and rubs at your clit frantically, leading you to your own orgasm. Cockwarming him already got you close, so you donât need much; youâve been on edge all night, really.
Jungkook is panting, trying to catch his breath, looking at you in awe as you grind on his cock. He listens as whimpers fall from your lips, his body twitching and overstimulated, but it doesnât even take you a few minutes before youâre there, shaking and trembling from your orgasm, pussy contracting and gripping tight on his sensitive and softening cock, still nestled inside of you. He winces from the hold your pussy has on him, but just grits his teeth and bears it, still watching you with an awestruck look on his face. As you finish, so tight around him, you can feel your cunt push the mixture of his and yours cum out. Surely dripping down his balls to the chair.
Mm, so messy, so worth it.
Youâre trembling from the force of your climax, and soft, teeny hiccuping sobs still escape your lips as you wrap yourself around his body, face buried into his neck to try and quiet your cries. His soft cock is still inside of you, keeping most of his cum from leaking out. He knows you get extra clingy after sex, and you like it when he stays inside, knows it makes you feel closer to him.
Jungkook is running gentle fingers up and down your back, cooing soft praises to soothe you, âAw, my baby, you were such a good girl for me,â he kisses your head, âYou did so well, princess.â
You sniff a few times, âIâm sorry about your tournament,â you whimper.
He smiles, laughs lightly, and your body shakes slightly with his
âDonât be sorry, youâre much more rewarding. Plus, Jimin was playing like a nood, we definitely werenât going to win,â he wipes under your eyes, trying to clean up some of the mascara running down your cheeks.
He lets you calm down for a little while longer before he hums, âHow about I roll up and we smoke and watch âCardcaptor Sakuraâ?â
You steady your breathing. Sniff, your eyes wide and shining, fingers playing with the strings of his hoodie as you question, âYouâll use the pink papers I got you? The ones with the flowers?â
âMhmm,â he nods once, blinking slowly with affection.
You nod and clap happily, and turn to get his glasses. You glance at his screens and see the tournament is still in progress.
âOhâŠâ you place the glasses back on his face, âYou didnât lose, Koo. Look.â
Jungkook adjust his glasses and peeks around you when you point at his monitors; his eyes widen.
âShit,â he rolls his chair closer to his desk and grabs his headset, putting it on and switching on the mic, âMy bad, Iâm back.â
Jimin and Taehyung immediately yell simultaneously,
âWhere were you?â
âWhat took you so fucking long?â
Jungkook glances at you, a faint smirk on his face as he moves his mouse around, clicking rapidly, âI took your advice and got laid.â
You giggle and place a kiss on his nose.
Youâre a bratty, needy, clingy, spoiled girl, but youâre his.