no jams illegirl

[Brussels, BE, July 2026]

The VCR is already rolling, the massive 360 screens pulling the audience’s attention while backstage moves in controlled chaos.

You’re digging through the rack of bright cloaks—the ones everyone throws on for the next entrance so the members can blend in and slip onto the stage unnoticed. They switch up colors sometimes, nothing serious. Members just have to make sure they enter with the group wearing the same color so they don’t stand out.

Usually, red goes first, then blue.

You slip your red one on, pull it over your head. You should be in the zone, but are still a little salty about the interaction with Yoongi earlier. But it’s whatever.

“Which color are you taking today?” you ask. He always picks the blue coat, but for some reason, you’re hoping he goes with your color instead. You don’t know why. You just do.

“Don’t really care. I just pick whatever.”

You hum, a little disappointed. He knows what color group you’re in. And he should be smart enough to know why you’re asking. 

“Wae? Why are you pouting?”

“Nothing.”

You don’t elaborate. You just walk away.

You button the front and smooth it out, then you tug the hood tighter. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him glance at you, then away.

Seokjin walks by, a crimson delight. You’re curious when Yoongi stops him in his path, a blue coat hanging from the crook of his arm.

“Hyung.” Yoongi holds up the coat in his hand. “Trade.”

“Why?”

“Yah.” Yoongi impatiently shoves his blue cloak to his elder. “Just do it.”

Yoongi’s gaze lands on you.

There’s a second where Seokjin looks behind him and spots you too, then he grins. “Aah, I see how it is.”

You look away, suddenly feeling embarrassed. What does Seokjin mean by that?! Surreptitiously, you view their interaction through a mirror on the side.

“Hyung,” Yoongi says flatly, eyes closed.

“Okay, okay,” Seokjin laughs, already shrugging off the red.

Before you know it, Yoongi walks towards your group, adjusts the red sleeves, checks the buttons, like normal.

You can’t look at him because your heart is doing dumb shit in your chest right now. 

“Happy?” he asks, low enough so only you can hear.

“You said you didn’t care.”

“I don’t,” he says immediately.

“Clearly.” 

He shakes his head, but there’s the faintest pull at the corner of his mouth. “Now you can stop sulking.”

It’s stupid how much that small thing sticks with you. Matching colors with him. Walking to the stage with him by your side, arms brushing slightly. 

Maybe it was nothing.

But lately, despite all the rules you've set for yourself, you've started collecting these little moments with Yoongi.

Little things that probably don't mean much on their own.

It's probably reckless to give them a place in your heart and revisit them later, to let yourself wonder if they're adding up to something more.

Still, this one really feels worth keeping.

⊙⊝⊜

[London, UK, July 2026]

Backstage is once again in motion. Cables snake across the floor, staff weaving through each other with practiced urgency, voices overlapping through comms as the low roar of the crowd seeps faintly through the walls.

You’re halfway through helping reset a prop when Angel grabs your wrist.

“Hey,” she says, already pulling you along. “I need you on Yoongi. His in-ear was acting up earlier.”

“Since when am I in technicals, or wardrobe?” you mutter, but you’re already moving.

“Since…” her voice trails, shooting you a wink. “You decided to become a tour slut.” Then she goes back to professional mode, handing you the spare tape and a headset. “Just check the pack. You know how.”

You do.

That’s kind of the problem with this job. Everyone knows a little bit of everything, and suddenly you’re doing things that aren’t technically yours.

And when you think about it—it’s not just things.

People, too.

Like the man in front of you.

You sigh and slip the headset on as you approach him.

Yoongi’s standing off to the side, dressed for stage, mic already fitted, absently adjusting his bracelet.

“Angel sent me,” you say. “Need to check the pack.”

He glances at you, then nods once, turning his back without a word.

You crouch behind him, one knee rooted on the floor for balance. Your fingers find the small wireless set clipped at the back of his waistband. 

“Your right side was cutting earlier,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him as you check the cable connection.

“Mm.” He glances back at you, expression unreadable.

“Can you lift your shirt?”

He doesn’t question it. Just hooks his fingers into the hem of his tee and lifts.

You’ve seen this before. His slender waist, the black band of the non-descript boxer-briefs he likes to wear. And you’ve been in this position before, mouth busy, tear ducts on overdrive, knee caps a little red.

Your eyes linger on his body before you can stop them, catching the line of his waist, the muscles on his back, the lean stretch of his torso… Shit. You swallow it down just as fast.

Focus.

You reach back to adjust the strap of the pack properly against his waist, tightening it so it sits secure. Your fingers brush against warm skin for a split second and you draw your hand away quickly as if you got burned.

You tap your headset monitor, nodding to Yoongi. “Say something.”

“Something,” he says, flat.

You huff. “You’re so helpful.”

“Thought that’s what you asked for.”

You shake your head, adjusting the cable one more time just to be sure. “Again. Properly. If this fucks up, you’re the one singing without a monitor, not me.”

With his cooperation, you finally get things sorted out, but before you can go, his voice crackles in your ear.

“Hey, Y/N.”

He speaks in a frequency just for his and your set.

You stop at your tracks, adjusting your mic. “What?”

You turn to see the glint in his shadowy eyes, enough to know that when he speaks again, it’s not for audio checking. “You look pretty.”

Your brain takes a second too long to catch up. 

Because between his sheets, he has sung your praises. Hot. Sexy. So tight. But not like this. Not with his eyes a little too fond, telling you you’re Pretty, of all things. You don’t know what else to do but deflect.

“Pretty cause I got on my knees for you?” You smirk, deliberately making it sound crass. Because you can’t fathom the alternative. The tenderness, the gentleness in the way he said it.

There’s the most minute crease on his brow before someone calls his name across the room. And then he’s gone before he can answer.

You’re left standing there, headset buzzing softly in your ear, trying to remember what you were doing before your brain short-circuited over one word.

⊙⊝⊜

[Paris, FR, July 2026]

You’re in Paris, the city of love, and Yoongi’s been in your mind a little more than usual. Over a cheese croissant, you thought about it: inviting him. Granted, you can’t have him in your room because your twin accommodations aren’t exactly conducive for the activities you usually partake in, but maybe at least you can initiate. 

Maybe even ask if he wanted to walk somewhere. You know, get food… then coffee… stroll along the Seine riverside like every other tourist…

The idea flies out the window and flings itself onto incoming traffic the moment you spot him backstage fifteen minutes before showtime.

Yoongi is sprawled across one of the couches, one arm stretched lazily along the backrest. And directly in front of him sits the prettiest faerie in all the land. Park Jimin.

See, this thing between “YoonMin” has always intrigued you. You’ve always thought the boys were platonic, because the alternative would border on incest with how their brotherhood almost runs deeper than blood. But these two looked like they always had something different.

“Can you braid my hair, hyung?” Jimin asks with a little pout.

Yoongi, whose fingers were already absently playing with the edges of the younger’s blonde tips to begin with, nods his assent.

You shouldn't linger. You have somewhere to be. Yet somehow your feet stay planted.

From your shadowy corner backstage, you watch Yoongi gather sections of Jimin's hair with surprising care. His fingers move deftly, practiced, like this isn't the first time he's done it.

Jimin says something you can't hear and Yoongi huffs a laugh, open and wide, almost a guffaw. That’s a real one, unlike those tiny chuckles you’ve seen in interviews. You wonder, almost bitterly, if he’s ever laughed like that with you.

Fuck. You gotta snap out of it and get it together. You have a show to do and this is ridiculous. Jimin is Jimin and Yoongi has known him for half his life.

But when Yoongi finishes the last knot and pats the younger man's head absentmindedly afterward, something contorts in your stomach.

A staff member rushes past you, breaking the moment.

When you look back again, Jimin is already smiling bright and toothy at whatever Yoongi says next and Yoongi’s eyes are shining.

For some reason, you find yourself thinking about the word he'd called you over comms in London. Pretty. Then you immediately hate yourself for it. Because one word doesn't change anything. You’d do your best to remember that.

⊙⊝⊜

Namjoon: Are you bored? You: save me Namjoon: Yeah, that’s why I texted.

It’s your last night in Paris and the city glittered beyond the open balcony doors.

It was close to eleven and the sky was washed in the deepest navy. Beyond the wrought-iron railing, rooftops stretched endlessly beneath a sea of golden lights.

And there, impossibly, the Eiffel Tower. You keep catching yourself looking at it. You don’t wanna be dramatic, but hello?! That’s the Eiffel Tower and it just feels ridiculous that it's right there.

Growing up, Paris existed in movies, postcards, textbooks and now you're sitting on a hotel balcony with a direct view of it.

This is not your hotel room, obviously. Yours has a stunning view of the adjacent building's white-washed wall.

But Namjoon's room? WOW.

You briefly wonder how long it takes before views like these stop feeling surreal.

The warm summer air drifts through the balcony as you sit cross-legged on one of the loungers, while Namjoon occupies the chair opposite yours, glasses slipping lower down his nose as he scrolls absently through something on his phone.

He suddenly exhales through his nose, locks the screen, and tosses it onto the table between you. “Can I ask you something weird?”

You squint at him immediately. “Sus, but okay?”

“Do you think…” He pauses, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Do you think people like me actually have a shot at normal love?”

“That’s kinda… loaded.”

“Mm.”

“Also, define normal.”

“You know what I mean.” Namjoon leans back, sighs.

“I dunno.” You shrug. “Is love ever normal?”

Namjoon shifts slightly, gaze drifting toward the Eiffel now instead of you. “Maybe I’m just too hopeless.”

“Why do you think that?” 

“You know.” He sighs from deep within his chest. “This life. Always seen. Always moving. Never really staying anywhere long enough.”

“I think the right person wouldn’t care that your life’s this.” You smile faintly, swirling the wine inside your glass. “They’d just wanna be part of it regardless.”

He nods. “I think I’d be happier if I did have someone.”

Your eyes flick toward him. He’s looking at you. Eyes filled with exhaustion, but wrapped in sincerity. His life is never gonna be normal, you both know this. Idol life is not for the weak. And despite all his struggles, Kim Namjoon is still one of the strongest people you’ve ever known.

“Like…” He searches for the words carefully, elbows resting against his knees now. “Someone who actually knows me outside all this. Someone to come home to eventually. I like imagining that. Going to work, home by 7, and there’s a home-cooked meal and someone to have dinner with… Like I’m just a normal fuckin’ guy.”

Your heart bleeds a little. “I think wanting somebody to come home to is probably the most normal thing about you.”

Namjoon laughs softly, almost embarrassed by himself. “After shows I know everybody goes somewhere. Hobi likes to go out. Jin is perpetually on a video call with Hana. Kook, Tae, I know they get up to stuff. They got lives. And I dunno, I just…” He shrugs. “I feel it more lately.”

Loneliness. That’s what this is. Not dramatic loneliness. Just the quiet adult kind. The kind that makes you feel small and sneaks up on you in big hotel rooms after midnight. Like now. You understand exactly what he means.

“Namjoon-ah, I think somebody out there is gonna love you so much that all this,” you gesture vaguely around the area, “won’t scare them away. You’re gonna find them.”

Dots sink against his cheek and for a while neither of you speaks.

A dog barks. A group of women giggle. A police siren blares from a distance.

Then, Namjoon glances over. “What about you?”

You immediately groan. “Absolutely not. We are not doing this.”

“Oh, come on. I was vulnerable. Give me something here.”

“Nope. You’re not baiting me.”

“You’re definitely the type.”

“The type to what?”

He grins, like he’s about to give you the best psychoanalysis ever. “To believe in serendipity and soulmates and all that shit.”

You stare at him blankly.

“No, hear me out.” He settles deeper into his chair. “You’re the kind of person who still thinks there’s meaning in things. Like if two people keep ending up in the same place over and over again, you think it’s fate.”

Looking away, you shake your head.

Namjoon points triumphantly. “See? That face means yes.”

You collapse backward dramatically against the seat. “God. I hate that you can read me.”

“So I’m right,” he says. “You are a hopeless romantic.”

Yup, read you like a damn book.

You pull your knees closer to your chest, staring down at your socks.

“I think…” You hesitate, suddenly feeling shy. “I think I’ve always assumed there’s somebody out there specifically for me.”

Namjoon doesn’t interrupt. So you keep going.

“Like not a fuckin’ prince charming or anything. Just someone…” You exhale softly. “Mine, I guess.”

The confession sounds embarrassingly earnest once it leaves your mouth.

But Namjoon just nods slowly like he understands.

“I know it’s stupid,” you mumble. “Eomma made me watch too many Disney fairytales.”

“It’s not.”

“Maybe not to you.” You laugh quietly. “But sometimes I feel kinda pathetic about it. Like everybody else grew out of wanting that.”

“You didn’t.”

“No,” you say quickly. “But, I also know now you have to be practical.”

“Practical how?”

“To just accept what version of love that’s handed to you. Even if it’s not perfect. Even if it’s just a semblance of it. At least it’s yours.”

Silence stretches again.

You’re not sure if Namjoon understands what you’re talking about. Or who you’re talking about. 

Or if he even agrees with the idea.

You stare at the city lights again, voice quieter when you speak next.

“I’m scared of ending up alone.” You swallow once before continuing. You’ve only ever admitted this out loud to one person.

Namjoon’s expression softens almost painfully. “That won’t happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t.” He smiles faintly. “But I still don’t think it’ll happen.”

You huff out a laugh through your nose when suddenly your phone lights up.

Someone’s calling. You once set a photo and a name for this person. But now, he’s just this emoji: 🙀for security and other reasons.

Just as quickly as you ended the call, it’s buzzing again.

“You gonna take that?” Namjoon asks.

You don’t think about it for long. Shake your head without further delay. “Nah.”

There’s a tiny click and a haptic feedback on your palm before you place your phone face down beside the ash tray.

Funny how Yoongi’s reminding you he exists in this exact time.

“You know what my toxic trait is?” you murmur after finishing your wine.

“What?”

You huff a soft, sad laugh. “I already know love is bullshit. But I still want it anyway.”

That finally makes Namjoon grin.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Me too.”

Something settles warmly in your chest from the strange comfort of being understood by somebody standing in the same weird in-between place as you.

“Wanna hug?”

Disarmed, you blurt. “No. I’m not wearing a bra.” You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling chaste.

“Neither am I.”

The fuck?

Your expression pulls a real laugh out of him, loud and unrestrained, dimples cutting deep into his cheeks as he collapses sideways against the chair.

“You’re actually so stupid,” you wheeze.

He stands up and holds one arm open anyway.

You stare at him for a second before rolling your eyes dramatically and scooting over.

The hug is brief. Warm. Just two lonely human beings holding onto each other for a second longer than usual.

You find yourself wondering how many lonely people are out here tonight. 

In a city this big, probably thousands. But for a little while, there are two less.

Neither of you realizes that as a balcony door shuts somewhere nearby, there’d be one left.

***

[Munich, GE, July 2026]

Yoongi asks you to come over after the first show. Not unusual. What is unusual is that you still have your clothes on. Usually your garments would be flying right off within the first minute or two, especially since you haven’t gotten with him since before Paris.

But not this night, it seems. You even skipped the panties tonight- that's how quick and dirty you thought this would be.

“Give me ten minutes,” he says the second he opens the door, already turning back toward his small setup near the windows, laptop, a tiny keyboard, and a small mic. “I’m just finishing something.”

You narrow your eyes. “Wow.”

He glances back. “What?”

“You’re making me wait.” You kinda sound bratty there, but too late for regrets. “It’s almost my bed time.” 

His mouth twitches faintly as he pushes his glasses higher up his nose. “Stay up for me, baby.”

You scoff under your breath because he is so mean for weaponizing that word, but you toe your shoes off anyway, wandering deeper into the suite while he settles back into the chair in front of his laptop.

You sink into the couch with a sigh. The exhaustion hits you almost immediately. You’re wrung out even more than usual.

Across the room, Yoongi works quietly, keyboard making subtle tapping sounds, mouse clicking every few seconds. Every now and then he mutters something under his breath.

You watch him for a while and you realize there’s something strangely intimate about seeing this part of him. After a few minutes, he leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “Can I ask you something?”

You stifle a yawn. “Shoot.”

“I, uh, wrote something.”

Yoongi stares at the screen for another few seconds before finally sighing through his nose.

“I need to know if it’s shit.”

“Okay, read it to me.”

Reluctantly, he mumbles the lyrics in that low rough voice of his. You listen carefully, curled deeper into the couch cushions.

참 말야 바람대로 되는 게 없지 Really there’s nothing that goes the way one wishes 인간관계란 정말 어려워 역시 Human relationships are really difficult, as expected 애초부터 맞지 않는 거였어 From the beginning, we weren’t meant to get along 우리 둘 사이 간극을 The gap between the two of us  좁혀 보려는 것 자체가 억지 it was a forceful attempt to narrow that gap

It’s sadder than what you expected. Lonelier, too. When he finishes, silence settles for a second.

Yoongi doesn’t look at you immediately. He just taps his fingers once against the armrest. “Well?”

You sit up slightly. “I mean…” You hesitate honestly. “I’m probably the worst person to ask. I know nothing about songwriting.”

He shrugs lightly.

“You don’t have to be an expert.” His gaze finally lifts toward yours. “You just gotta be human.”

Something about the way he says it catches you off guard. Like he’s asking for something simpler. More vulnerable. If it made you feel something.

“I think…” You chew on the inside of your cheek. “He feels tired.”

Yoongi’s brows lift slightly. “Tired?”

“Not physically.” You shake your head. “More like…” You search for the right words. “Like somebody who keeps trying, even when they already know how it’s gonna end.”

Silence.

You glance at him, feeling a little silly now. “That’s probably not what you meant, huh.”

“No. Keep going.”

You hate when people say that. Mostly because it means they were listening.

You tuck your feet beneath you. “It feels lonely, I guess. That line about not being able to close the gap.” You shrug. “It sounds like someone who really wanted to understand one person or be understood by them.”

Your voice softens, as a different thought arises. “But, was there really a gap in the first place? He should question that, too. Sometimes, things are much much simpler than what they seem.”

For a moment, Yoongi just stares at his screen. You wonder if you’ve rambled too much. But then he nods once slowly like you’ve landed somewhere close. 

“Yeah.” The word is so quiet you almost miss it.

You smile faintly, leaning back. “Well, if your goal was to make people sad with just a few lines, congratulations.”

A small laugh escapes him. “That’s my brand, apparently.”

“You know,” you continue, “if that song had to be performed, I’d probably picture somebody standing alone after everyone else already left.”

His eyes flick up. “That’s specific.”

You shrug. “You asked a dancer.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You guys hear music and think about the track, the production. I hear music and immediately start seeing scenes in my head, movement.”

“Mm.” He leans back slightly. “Tell me what you see.”

You think about it. “A group of dancers in the center of the stage, moving away to reveal somebody sitting on a chair in the middle of their chaos.”

Your gaze drifts toward the city lights outside. “It’s like everybody else moved on already and they’re the only ones still trying to figure out where things went wrong.”

Yoongi is looking at you now. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before he breathes. “Damn.”

You don’t know what that means. You don’t think about it again, but sometime in the future, it’s a look that you'll remember.

Yoongi starts typing again after that, keyboard taps and mouse clicks lulling you to sleep like ASMR.

You’re not able to stifle your yawn, and it’s a big one.

“Go sleep in the bed,” Yoongi says and that is not the response you were expecting.

Your eyes widen instantly. “Uh, no.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s your bed.”

“And?”

“And I’m not sleeping there.” 

“Y/N.”

“I’m literally fine.” You curl stubbornly deeper into the couch. “See?”

Yoongi stares at you for a long moment, then shakes his head once. “Suit yourself.”

He disappears briefly into the bathroom while you pull one of the throw blankets over yourself. The couch is unfairly comfortable. Probably even more comfortable than your own bed. And maybe this is the only reason why you stay despite all the good reasons to just leave and pick up where you left off on another day.

You tell yourself you’ll stay awake. Just rest your eyes for a second. Give Yoongi more time because he is in a good flow.

That’s all.

The last thing you vaguely register is Yoongi returning to the room and the soft sound of music playing quietly somewhere near the desk again.

⊙⊝⊜

When you wake up the next morning, sunlight spills warmly across the softest white sheets. Slowly, you bolt upright in the bed, blanket slipping down your lap as your sleepy brain struggles to catch up.

This is not your hotel room.

Nope. This one’s big.

What the hell?

Then you see him. Dark mop of hair on the couch across the room, one arm hanging off the side, the other over his eyes.

Your heart stumbles painfully against your ribs as your mind plays a highlight reel of last night and the realization settles strangely inside your chest. He carried you to his bed and slept out there instead.

Huh. Well, that’s kind of sweet of him, isn’t it? He could have stayed in the same bed, it is his after all, and you’re probably too tired to hear him snore or anything like that. You stare at him fondly for a second too long before ice slides down your spine and panic finally catches up to you. 

In all these months of whatever this is, you’ve never stayed the night ever. Shit. This is not great. In fact, this is a fucking mess. Oh my god. This is–

You’re clambering out of the bed, gathering your things with your pulse thudding wildly in your ears.

Yoongi shifts slightly on the couch and you freeze immediately.

Oh my god. Fuck, he woke up. Shit-shit-shit. How can he be such a light sleeper? 

“Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“Were you watching me sleep?”

“No!”

“Okay.”

You chew off a dry piece of skin from your lip as you watch him push himself up with a grunt. 

“Why didn’t you just wake me up?” You really didn’t mean to, but it sounded like you were accusing him of something.

“You were tired,” he scratches the back of his head.

“You could have let me take the couch.”

Finally, his sleepy eyes meet yours. “I could have,” he says simply before a yawn takes over his face. The insinuation that he could have but he didn’t want to, like he wanted your comfort over his–god what is this you are feeling right now?

Yoongi stretches his arm up and the t-shirt rides up to show his abdomen and the happy trail leading down to… a tall tent in his shorts. You gulp. Because he’s looking very enthusiastic this morning. The fabric of his bottoms are so thin that you can almost see the actual shape of his cock and it’s not computing that you’ve been staring.

He knows, and he makes no move to cover or address the elephant or should you say the anaconda in the room.

Thoughts are forming in your brain, solidifying with each charged second.

“I’m doing room service. Wanna get somethin’ to eat?” He asks coolly, checking his phone for the time.

“Yeah, I do,” you respond firmly, knees burning subtly from where they hit the rough carpet.

Eager fingers curl on the waistband of his shorts, and not even a second later, he’s helping you ease it off him.

“This what you want?” he asks with a wicked grin, clearly enjoying himself. He settles at the edge of the cushion and leans back slightly, legs spread in invitation.

No reply is needed, nope, not when you suddenly have a mouthful of his dick and you get a string of pretty curses in response.

You lick him from the tip to the base, dragging the back of your tongue back up again. Eyes on him, you let your lips pucker, soft and sensual, along his firm length.

Breath quickening, Yoongi sighs, pleasure painted in his features as he watches every move you make. There’s something about having his full and undivided attention like this that makes you feel a little powerful. He’s used to the world watching him, but in this room, it’s like you’re the only one worth seeing and the thought spurs you to perform a little. Make it unforgettable.

You let spit dribble from your mouth like syrup, warm, viscous, pouring straight into the column of his cock in clear swirls. The tip of your tongue spreads it further, coating him inch by inch, before you wrap your lips around his head.

You peer up through your lashes, eyes Bambi-like and beautiful and he already looks positively destroyed.

“Love your mouth. Fuck.”

You moan a little before releasing him with a small pop and giving him a sly, teasing smile.

Licking the palm of your hand, you curl it around his shaft and give it a squeeze. It's a little squishy from your spit and you pump him just enough to see him hang his mouth open with the jolt of pleasure.

After a few firm tugs, he tips his head back with a grin, hair falling softly over his eyes. You absolutely don’t expect what he says next.

“Best morning ever,” he slurs unabashedly, shaking his head like he can’t believe his luck.

You giggle, still massaging his velvety skin. “You haven’t even cum yet.”

“Well whose fault is that?”

Oh?!

“Goodbye asshole. Suck your own co—” You make a move to stand up, but he plants you back down, palms on your shoulders.

“I’m joking, baby,” he says, all gummy-grinned and shit, rubbing your traps, and you hate it so much, but between that stupid smile and that fuckin’ word. Folded.

Yoongi grips his cock, teases the fat tip along your lips, slathering your own spit around your mouth like some kind of lip gloss. “C’mon, baby. You wanna finish what you started, hm?”

An indignant huff and you take him back in your mouth, suckling it noisily for show before you bring yourself forward, a choke rising involuntarily as he touches your tonsils halfway in.

Yoongi hisses. “‘ts what I'm talking ‘bout.”

You swallow once, relaxing your throat to take him further, swallowing again.

“Baby, that feels… fuck,” he praises. “You’re so good at this shit.”

Warmth is spreading on your cheeks, a little caught off guard because Yoongi is usually not this vocal. It seems he's a little less restrained this morning. Looser with praise and affection. Maybe because it’s early and he’s still halfway between sleep and wakefulness. You wouldn’t know for sure because the only time you’ve been with him at this early hour was in rehearsals.

Whatever the reason, there’s something less guarded about him right now from the sounds he lets slip to the way he keeps looking at you, sticky like molasses.

You tighten the seal of your mouth around his girth, bobbing your head up and down, sucking the life force out of him. Whatever doesn’t fit, you pump with a flick of your wrist, twisting your fist every time it bounces lightly against his balls. 

“A-aah…”

Got this grown man stuttering and his deep grunts are making you gush between your thighs. 

As salt starts to coat your tongue, a sharp, unexpected spark of pleasure shoots through you. It takes you a second to realize why. Yoongi’s toe scrapes your center, the material of your thin shorts offering little to no barrier against your bare cunt. 

Is he—? Oh.

Okay.

Shit.

You’re already soaking through your shorts. The thin fabric clings to the slit between your folds, and his toe keeps brushing right over it.

Your mouth hovers his fat bulb, lips barely touching it as the tiny sparks from your cunt renders you immobile.

“You’re drooling everywhere, baby.”

And he’s not wrong.

You moan into his cock.

Honestly you’ve become a little distracted since he started wiggling because fuck—that feels so supremely divine—and you swear you don’t have a foot fetish or anything but! The motions are just driving you in-fucking-sane right now.

Yoongi lifts his hips slightly, thrusting upwards so he is just flopping against your mouth, sliding out to the side of your cheek, then back inside again. 

Brain empty.

Pussy wet.

Eyes completely unfocused.

All the while he dips his candy-coated cock in and out of your pathetic mouth, yanking it back, smearing wetness all over your face, your chin, before sliding back in.

You want to regain your composure, you really do. But you love this, the mess he’s made of you, debauched and desperate for that monster between his legs.

Caressing your jaw, he tilts your chin up, bringing you back to the present. “Will you let me fuck your throat?”

You nod eagerly and he beams like he’s won something. He stands up and you adjust your stance, sitting on your heel like a well-mannered sub. 

“You’re so good to me, baby,” he praises as you watch his reddened head poke in and out of his clenched fist. He gives it a few more pumps, a tiny pearl shining on the slit, before seeking entrance in your mouth.

Just as you open up for him, you lift your gaze to meet his. “You don’t have to be gentle.”

“Tss,” he huffs out a laugh. “You say that now.”

“Try me.”

Yoongi makes a few shallow passes, a gag getting caught in your throat as he goes deeper. You relax your jaw, breathe in sharply through your nose, as Yoongi really shoves it in, hips stuttering at a steady pace. Soon enough, he’s bucking into you with more force, the skin at the edges of your lips tears with every pass.

You’re crying now, oscillating between the pain and the pleasure as he wrecks your shit. Fingers threaded through your hair are spurring you forward as your throat tightens and molds to the shape of him.

You kind of regret egging him on now.

“Oh look at you,” Yoongi gasps. “So fuckin’ perfect. Go on, baby, you can touch yourself.”

It’s not like you to wait for his, or anyone’s, permission. And it just occurred to you that you were maybe waiting for it. What the–

“Mmph…” you cough violently when he unplugs, air finally rushing inwards like a salvation. 

“You okay?” A thumb swipes a rogue tear from your cheek. “We can stop.”

“No, I’m fine.” You reply, shaking your head. 

He studies you for a beat before agreeing, his expression morphing into something achingly fond as he tucks a stray tendril behind your ear. 

Ignore ignore ignore

You busy your fingers underneath damp satin, rubbing your nub raw, distracting you from any discomfort from your abused throat or, worse, from the unsolicited affection. Shit. Thankfully you’re wound so goddamn tight and are just seconds away from tipping over the edge.

“Get yourself off, baby. Make yourself feel good. Wanna see you cum for me.”

Yoongi looks like the devil incarnate looking down on you like that, watching you pleasure yourself.

You're chasing your breath, deliriously close to your orgasm, but you’re able to croak out an instruction that you just know will snuff out the tenderness in his eyes before it undoes you. 

“Paint my face.”

And it sure as hell works, if the way he begins pumping his dick furiously is any indication. Your brain helpfully supplies memories of him impaling you, reaching places inside no man has ever touched before. Soon you’re tipping forward, a desperate cry of his name ripping from your chest, your body heaving, clenching, shaking with the force of your release.

It’s a miracle you hear him beneath the static in your ear drums.

“Shit. Baby, show me your tongue.”

You stick it out for him, soft and flat.

Gripping his shaft, Yoongi slaps his angry-red tip on your wet muscle relentlessly, sloppy thwacks filling the room.

“Fuck,” he curses and gasps with each lewd stroke, tapping his cock into your open mouth, pumping it aggressively, groaning roughly. The veins in his hand flex with every move, and it’s obvious he’s close, so you encourage him.

“I need your cum, Yoongi…” you moan salaciously. “Please…”

You shut your eyes and even in the darkness behind your lids you can imagine his gentle features contorted in ecstasy and with a low growl he vandalizes your face with white-hot spurts of his cum.

It gets quiet after that, the aftermath.

You open your eyes and there it is again, feline eyes gone unexpectedly glassy. He starts rubbing the slick on your cheek, smoothing it like it needs to sink deep. You sense a bead near your mouth and you swoop it in with your tongue, lapping up the liquid with a satisfied hum.

Yoongi sighs, grins tiny. “Stay there.”

You shouldn’t. You should actually get up because your knees are burning, your face is feeling gooey, and a quick douse of warm water would clean you right quick. 

Your heart pounds against your ribs because you know what’s next. The part you always refuse. The part you’ve always pretended to not care for.

Yoongi comes back with a washcloth, sits ass-bare on the couch and coaxes you to follow on his lap. 

Gentle as ever, white is wiped from your skin. The hotel’s terry cloth is a little rough, but he’s so tender with it, one smooth swipe after another until the slick is gone. He flips the towel on the other side and passes it over your face again.

But when the cloth is gone, his own hand stays, thumb tracing the soft swoop of your jaw before brushing across your lower lip, catching it briefly against his finger before letting it slip free.

The gesture draws your attention to his mouth. His tongue flicks out unconsciously, wetting his lips beneath your stare.

God. Would it really be so bad?

It’s only, what, 8 am and he got you doing downright nasty shit, but the fantasy is still as simple as ever.

A kiss.

Slow and lush and unhurried and then maybe fast, faster, tongues tangling and from there it’s just impossible to stop.

You're so close you can imagine it: he cups your jaw, parts your mouth with his, kisses you over and over until you’re dizzy and breathless. You link your arms around his neck, pulling him closer…

“Y/N…” Yoongi snaps you out of your reverie.

You blink back to the present. “Yeah?”

“I fuckin’ hate your rule in case I haven’t told you,” Yoongi says matter-of-factly.

You smush his lips with your palm, shoving his face playfully away before you get off his lap.

It’s still at the tip of your tongue, you know.

His cum.

As well as the truth you almost say out loud: 

You hate it, too.

⊙⊝⊜

It’s been about four months now since the tour kicked off. Long enough that the chaos feels a bit more controlled now.

At the beginning, every venue felt like a maze. Endless hallways, identical black curtains, staff corridors that all looked the same under fluorescent lighting. Now, you can just tell.  You can step into a new stadium and figure it out within minutes. Which tunnel leads to where. Which stairwell gets you quickest to wardrobe. Which backstage corners have decent signal. Which production staff to avoid when they’re stressed.

Tour life doesn’t feel borrowed anymore. It feels like it’s yours. The girls help with that too.

You’ve become closer in the way only people surviving the same madness together can.  Especially Angel who has started dragging you into wardrobe work whenever she’s overwhelmed and needs to yap with somebody. Now you moonlight beside her sometimes before shows, surrounded by rhinestones and loose thread while listening to her bomb ass playlists.

Your latest masterpiece had been Yoongi’s baseball jersey. Well, okay. Masterpiece might be generous. But you did spend almost 40 minutes bedazzling the name Tang and a tiny silver cat onto the sleeve.

You never told him it was you, but during soundcheck, you caught the exact moment he noticed it. His fingers brushed over the tiny rhinestone cat absently before his mouth twitched into that quiet amused grin he gets when something genuinely catches him off guard.

It just might be the prettiest smile you’ve seen on him.

⊙⊝⊜

And then, there’s Namjoon.

There are nights you end up eating backstage together, sharing food while he talks about whatever book currently has him spiraling philosophically. Other times he finds you stretching before rehearsals and starts rambling about his new Pokemon hyperfixation.

Nothing with Namjoon ever feels hidden or awkward.

Your conversations happen under bright lights. In crowded hallways. Out in the open where anybody could walk by and misunderstand absolutely nothing. Even when he invites you to hang out, it doesn’t feel like a secret. He even mentioned it one time within earshot of Jungkook, who seemed unfazed.

Sometimes you catch yourself wondering if this is what being close to someone is supposed to feel like.

Then you stop thinking about it before your mind wanders somewhere dangerous.

Because Yoongi—

God. That’s a puzzle. Maybe even a Rubik’s cube. Or twenty of them.

Because somehow everything between you has stayed exactly the same while also becoming completely different.

The arrangement hasn’t changed. You still slip into his room late at night. Still leave before morning. Still hide behind small rooms. Still finish quick and clean up fast.

But now you know things about him you didn’t before.

The face he makes when he’s concentrating on lyrics. How he goes soft when his eomma checks in late at night. His face in the morning when pleasure washes over his features.

And worse, he’s started knowing things about you, too.

Sometimes he does things that catch you so off guard it leaves you staring at him after like your brain can’t process what just happened.

Tiny things. Like calling you pretty. Like taking you to a Michelin-starred hole-in-the-wall in Madrid. You’re still a little fucked up about that, not gonna lie. 

No matter, they’re inconsequential enough that you can still lie to yourself about them if you try hard enough. And it scares you because the closer you get to him, the harder it becomes to pretend losing him wouldn’t hurt. Though you know you have to. Eventually.

⊙⊝⊜

[East Rutherford, NJ, August 2026]

Production rented an entire pickleball rink in New Jersey and invited anyone who wants to play after the boys’ Run BTS shoot.

A couple of you signed up. You’ve tried it before and you’re pretty decent. Plus, there wasn’t much to do during your day-off and you didn’t want to go outlet shopping with Rei and the other girls.

Eventually you and Seung Eun, Angel, Tiff and some other staff members piled into a van and into The Rink. 

The automatic doors slide open and cool air hits your skin instantly, carrying the sharp smell of rubber flooring and sports cleaner. Bright fluorescent lights spill across polished courts while music from an old BTS album (Love Yourself!) echoes faintly from overhead speakers.

On one court, you see Taehyung aggressively stretch like he’s competing in Wimbledon.

“Wow. He’s so serious about all this,” Angel mutters beside you.

“You’re literally wearing a whole tennis outfit.” You bump your hip against hers.

“It’s aesthetic.” She throws a wink over her shoulder before skipping happily towards her waiting man. 

You find the equipment counter, observing the people who are still around. Jungkook and Jimin probably left already. Meanwhile, Namjoon is sweating buckets by the coolers and Yoongi—

Why is he still willingly here and… oh, he’s running towards you?

“Hello.” You say awkwardly. “Didn’t think I'll see you here.”

“Heard you signed up.”

“Uh, yeah…”

He’s dressed simply. Black shorts. Oversized grey shirt with a small sweat stain on his chest. A baseball cap tugged backwards which is doing inexplicable things to your mind.

“Been wanting to play again,” you murmur.

“You any good?”

“I’m decent.”

“Okay, one game?” He rolls his shoulder, kneading the muscle there.

“Is your shoulder okay to play?”

The question slips out too naturally. Shit. Months ago, this would’ve stayed trapped inside your head, buried beneath all your rules about what you were and weren’t allowed to care about.

Yoongi glances at you. “Mm,” he says. “It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

A beat.

Then the corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “You worried?”

Immediately defensive, you scoff. “No! I just don’t wanna win because your body is 90 years old.”

“Yah! I literally ran a marathon recently.”

“Mhmm and you almost died?” You grin slyly before grabbing an unmanned paddle on the counter, testing its weight. Then, you hit the side of his hip with it. He shakes his head at you, motioning his head for you to follow him.

“So did you win?” you ask about their Run BTS shoot.

“No.” He winces.

“Oh, so you suck at this, too?” You tease, recalling how he was teased relentlessly for his grandpa-esque foot volley performance. 

He narrows his eyes on you, but before he gets a word out, you say, “I can give you some pointers, if you want?”

An arm suddenly slings around your shoulders.

“Y/N-ah.”

Namjoon.

You stumble slightly from the force of it, laughing immediately.

“You’re with me,” Namjoon declares. “Doubles.”

You glance instinctively toward Yoongi and his expression doesn’t change much at all, but his gaze flicks once toward Namjoon’s arm around you before dropping away.

“Ah,” you say awkwardly. “Okay.”

“Perfect,” Namjoon grins. “We’re gonna destroy everybody.”

Yoongi licks his teeth as he declares his teammate. “Jin-hyung and me versus you two.”

Which you didn’t think was unfair at first, but apparently Kim Seokjin is the ace.

“Why are you good at everything?” you yell after he effortlessly sends another shot flying past you.

Jin points his paddle at you smugly. “God gives his hardest battles to his handsomest soldiers.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Namjoon winces before lining up to serve.

Yoongi misses what would have been an easy volley completely and the silence afterward is catastrophic.

“Yoongi-yah!” Seokin explodes and Namjoon hits the floor laughing.

“I thought it was yours!” Yoongi protests immediately.

“It was going to you??” Jin screeches.

You’re laughing so hard your knees nearly give out.

Yoongi glares at all of you. But honestly? He’s terrible. Absolutely terrible! Half the time he swings too late. The other half he hits the ball with way too much force like he’s trying to launch it into 134340. 

Meanwhile, Jin is carrying their duo on his broad ahh back. Like seriously, how come his shoulders are so wide and his arms are a mile long?

“Ah Yoongi, don’t be so useless!” Jin shouts dramatically across the court. 

“We’re still leading by 5 points!”

“Forget the points, your aura’s in the negatives now!”

Yoongi has nothing to say after that, just turns to look at you with a :] and suddenly you are endlessly endeared.

And before you can stop yourself, you holler. “You got this, Yoongi.”

He didn’t expect that. Hell, you didn’t expect to say that out loud, too. But you blame the adrenaline and the endorphins coursing through your body.

Yoongi’s lips press together tightly in a pout. He has this smile that looks reluctant, like he’s trying very hard to stay composed and failing by degrees. It’s a cute look.

Regardless, Yoongi stays terrible after that, but it was kinda worth it to see him a little flustered.

⊙⊝⊜

By the second game, everyone’s sweaty and louder and way too competitive for people who are supposedly here to just have fun.

You’re bent slightly at the waist catching your breath when you feel someone bump your shoulder lightly.

Yoongi.

“You’re with me this round.”

You blink up at him.

There’s no teasing in his voice. No hesitation either. Just quiet certainty.

“Against who?”

He tilts his chin toward the opposite court where Angel and Taehyung are already bickering like an old married couple.

“Oh,” you grin slowly. “Easy win.”

“Really,” Tae points immediately. “Yoongi-hyung, you’ve been taking the L every game.”

“Not this one,” Yoongi says simply beside you. “Not gonna lose with her.”

You look at him. He looks proud.

The game starts pretty badly. Mostly because Yoongi is downright awful.

“You gotta move your feet,” you laugh as he misses another return.

“I am moving!”

“That was one step!”

“I can do two max.”

You shove him playfully. “Get your head in the game, Yoon.”

And somewhere in the middle of the match, something clicks. Not skill. God  no. It’s chemistry. You start anticipating each other naturally.

Somehow, you know when he’ll hit too hard so you compensate automatically. He starts setting shots up for you without realizing it.

At one point you dive for a low ball, barely saving it. Yoongi cuts in and slams the return clean across the court.

The point is yours.

“Oh SHIT!” you yell.

Yoongi turns toward you instantly, eyes wide as adrenaline flashes across his face.

“Fuck yeah,” he laughs breathlessly, holding his hand up.

You smack your palm against his.

“That was sharp!”

“You saved that.”

“No, YOU finished it!”

Tae scoffs from across the net. “The fuck? So much dramatics for one point.”

Angel makes a face at the two of you.

Neither of you even notice, because you’re too busy grinning at each other.

Later, during match point, Yoongi completely whiffs on an easy shot.

“Oh my god,” you collapse against him laughing. “You suck so bad. We could have won.”

“Why do you look happy?” he shoots back.

And you don’t really have an answer for that.

⊙⊝⊜

Or this.

Maybe you’re both tired after pickleball. But tonight, he was exceptionally gentle. Like everything happening was moving in slow-mo.

You’re on your back, the mattress dipping beneath you as he follows, one hand braced beside your head, the other coaxing your thigh to come up around him.

You wind your legs around his torso, ankles crossing at his back as you pull him close.

You feel him slip inside you and when he bottoms out, he exhales softly through his nose, forehead dropping to your neck.

You’re closer than you have been all night. Or ever, it seems.

Everything is so quiet, still. Just the sound of ragged breaths, fanning against each other’s bodies. 

There’s a comfort in the way his cock is nestled inside you like it’s made a home, and for a minute, maybe more, neither of you moves. 

Yoongi groans. “Feels so fuckin’ good.”

“I know…” you mumble.

“Shit…” Yoongi rasps, voice frayed at the edges. “Always feels good with you…”

Lifting his head, he nuzzles his nose against yours, brushing lightly as he moans at the way you’re clenching involuntarily.

You’re not kissing. You made it clear from the start. But you’re fighting for the same air, mouths a fraction apart. If either of you leans in even a little…

No. You can’t. That’s your rule.

It should feel casual. It is casual.

His slow gaze moves between your eyes and your mouth, like he’s thinking about it. He’s been doing this more and more, and you don’t know what to do with him.

It’s a question. He’s asking your permission without words.

Your hands slide up around his neck, tugging his hair back with a necessary force because everything else feels a little too soft, a little too real. You lick his bared neck, feeling the vibration from his throat against your tongue as he groans. The tenderness breaks.

“Yoongi. Move…” You claw at his back, resting your palm just above the curve of his ass.

Slow at first, he slides all the way out before stuffing his length back in with enough force to shake the sense out of you.

You cry in pleasure as he pulses his thumb against your puffy folds and wiggles it against your swollen clit. He knows your body so well now. Knows it’s not gonna take much.

“Oh, Yoongi…” you beg as your thighs quiver against his torso, each nasty thrust from him pulling out puffs of air from your throat.

You’re almost folded in half now as he snaps his hips forward, the tip of his cock kissing your g-spot making you delirious.

“I got you,” he rasps, voice low and gravelly. 

And then his hands find yours pressing both palms steady against your own. But then his grip deliberately changes, fingers slipping between yours, interlacing like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You tighten your hold without thinking. And he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he holds on harder.

This is new. Oh this is fucking new and you don’t know what to do.

The rhythm between you turns unsteady for a second—like you both feel it at the same time—and then it settles again, slower, deeper, more intentional.

Your foreheads meet. He huffs your name under his breath. 

You’re feeling so much. His hand in yours. Your legs wrapped around him. The way your breathing falls out of sync and then somehow finds its way back together again.

His pace doesn’t falter even as your walls continue to swallow all of him as your climax nears.

“Baby… I can feel you sucking me in… fuck.”

“Yoongi…”

“Ah… you wanna keep me in, huh?”

Your hips falter at the insinuation, a temporary glitch in your brain, but he picks up the pace again and soon you’re back in that haze.

“Need you, baby…” 

“I’m here…” he whispers, leaning to plant his lips on your cheek, and another, dangerously close to the edge of your lips. “Not going anywhere…”

It’s those words. Lust-driven words dressed up as a vow that did it for you. 

When you come, he follows, spilling himself inside you with a broken gasp.

⊙⊝⊜

You can hear the electric kettle whistling as you step out of his bathroom.

Yoongi stands near the window, chest still bare, trousers sitting deliciously low on his hips.

There are nights you’re still kind of mesmerized by how incredibly handsome this man is. 

Funny how two Kim Seokjins break the thought. Worldwide handsome is staring back at you from cups of Jin ramyeon on the table.

“I got hungry.” Yoongi says simply when he sees you, walking to retrieve the kettle. “Wanna eat?”

Two cups of ramyeon sit on the table. One is already cracked open, seasoning packets emptied inside. The other is still sealed, waiting patiently beside it.

You’re thinking, processing, buffering. You never ever stay beyond the clean-up. But the familiar and comforting smell of the broth makes the decision for you.

<3

//part four

A/N: Hi! Hope you liked? This Yoongi just... honestly, it was hard to write him at first, but I'm kinda falling in lo💥💥💥

ANYWAY! Leave me a note or a reblog with a review, if you want. It's the best way you can show your support.

Thank you for reading, you lovely beautiful human xo

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“Missed you,” Jungkook murmurs against your lips between kisses. Kneeling on the floor as you sit on the couch. “God, you have no idea. Every night. Every single night.”

“I missed you more,” you purred , as his mouth finds the sensitive spot beneath your jaw. His teeth graze your skin, and a bolt of pure desire shoots straight down your spine, pooling low in your belly. The secret you’re keeping there seems to pulse in time with your quickening heartbeat.

His hands slide lower, gripping the hem of your top, and he starts to pull it up. You lift your arms willingly, letting him strip the top off you. The cool air of the room kisses your skin, raising goosebumps. His heated gaze travels over you, clad only on your chest, not wearing a bra. His eyes are dark, appreciative, worshipful.

“So beautiful,” he says, his voice rough. “My beautiful girl.”

He leans in to kiss the swell of your breast, lips making their way to your nipples, his tongue swirling around the hard buds, sucking them so softly, his hands going to the hem of your shorts. This is it. The moment coils tight in your stomach, a mix of nerves and fierce anticipation. You watch his face, holding your breath.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of both the shorts and your underwear beneath, and in one smooth slow motion, he begins to pull them down your hips.

You lift your hips to help him, the fabric whispering over your skin. He draws them down your thighs, past your knees, his eyes following the path of his hands. Then he sees it.

His breath hitches, a sharp, audible intake that cuts through the quiet room. His hands, which were so confident and sure a second ago, go completely still, fingers curled into the fabric at your knees. His gaze is locked, utterly fixated, on the middle of your thighs.

There, nestled in the delicate, soft folds, is the surprise. A tiny, perfect, gleaming captive bead ring. The small silver hoop is elegant and delicate, the tiny bead—a smooth, polished sphere—sits snugly against your swollen flesh.

Jungkook’s jaw was on the floor, clearly shocked by the unexpected surprise, ”what!?” He said as a breathy laugh escaped him, “are you serious?” he blinked twice, staring in genuine surprise before looking back up at you.

“When did you get that?!” he asks, his voice rising with enthusiastic curiosity. He’s fully yapping now. “Oh my god. When? Why didn’t you tell me? Did it hurt? It looks like it hurt. Was it like a needle? It must have been a huge needle. Who did it? Was it clean? It looks clean. It’s so… shiny.”

He’s talking a mile a minute, his eyes darting over every detail. The tiny, perfect hoop. His hands slowly parting your folds carefully, The snug silver bead resting against your swollen flesh. The way it glints in the soft light from the floor lamp.

“It’s for you,” you finally manage to say, your voice trembling with a mix of arousal and amusement at his adorable, frantic reaction.

“For me?” He looks up, his eyes huge. “Like… a present?”

“A welcome home present, I got it three weeks ago.”

He processes this, his mouth forming a silent ‘O’. The concept seems to delight him even more. He looks back down, his head tilting the other way. “So it’s… mine? I mean, not mine mine, but like… for me to… appreciate?”

You can’t help the giggle that escapes. “Yes, Jungkook. For you to appreciate.”

“Wow,” he whispers, finally reaching out. But not like before. His touch is now feather-light, incredibly tentative. He uses the very tip of his index finger to gently, so gently, boop the little silver bead. It moves the tiniest bit.

You jerk, a sharp intake of breath hissing through your teeth. The sensation is immediate and intense.

He yanks his hand back as if shocked. “Did that hurt? Was that bad?”

“No,” you whine. “No, it’s… just really sensitive.”

His eyes light up with renewed, fascinated interest. “Sensitive?” He says the word like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever heard. “More than before? Because of the metal? Does the metal make it colder? Or is it your body temperature? Wait, let me feel.”

This time, he doesn’t boop it. He lays the pad of his finger gently against the side of the hoop. He holds it there, his brow furrowed in concentration. “It’s warm,” he announces, as if reporting a major finding. “It’s your temperature. That’s so cool.”

He’s completely lost in his exploration, his previous goal of immediate sex entirely derailed by this new, shiny discovery. “Can I…?” he trails off, looking up at you for permission, his eyes sparkling.

“Can you what?”

“Can I just… look at it for a second? From different angles?” You burst out laughing, the tension and anticipation melting into pure affection for this ridiculous, silly man. “Yes, you can look.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He shifts his position, moving to kneel deeper on the floor. He gently puts his hands on your inner thighs to keep you still, He leans in, his face dangerously close.

“The craftsmanship is really good,” he says, utterly serious. “The hoop is perfectly circular. The bead is seamless. It’s not too big, not too small.” He glances up. “Was there a size chart? Did you pick the bead? What other options were there?”

“Jungkook!” you laugh, swatting his shoulder. “Are you doing a product review right now?”

He grins, unrepentant. “I’m appreciating my gift! Thoroughly!” He goes back to looking. “It suits you. It’s pretty. Edgy, but pretty.” He finally leans back, sitting on his heels, and just stares at you, his gaze taking in the whole, breathtaking picture; you spread out before him, adorned with this secret he now knows. The smile on his face is one of awestruck, possessive joy.

Then, the researcher vanishes, and the starving, devoted boyfriend comes crashing back. The playful curiosity in his eyes ignites into a hot, dark flame of desire.

“Okay,” he says, his voice dropping back into that rough, wanting register. “Appreciation time is over.”

“Oh, is it?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Now it’s…” He crawls back over you, caging you with his arms. His face is inches from yours. “Now it’s testing time.”

Before you can reply, he drops his head between your legs. But he’s not just diving in. He’s methodical. He blows a soft, cool stream of air directly over the piercing. You twitch violently.

“Sensitive,” he repeats, a note of success in his voice.

Then his tongue on you. A pointed lick that goes right over the silver ring, from bottom to top.

The effect is catastrophic. The cool metal, the hot, wet muscle, the direct pressure—it all combines into a sensation so sharp and sweet you cry out, your hips bucking off the couch.

He moans, the sound vibrating through you. “Fuck,” he groans against you. “the feedback is insane.”

He does it again, this time circling the bead with the very tip of his tongue, exploring the new topography of your body with a focus that leaves you breathless. Every tiny flick, every swirl, is magnified, wired directly into your central nervous system.

“Koo… please…” you beg, legs shaking violently, already feeling the coil of an orgasm tightening, way too soon.

“Please what?” He asks, lifting his head just enough to talk. His lips are glistening, his eyes drunk with power and pleasure. “Are you already close? But im just getting started,” He dips his head back down, this time taking the bead gently between his lips and sucking.

You see white. Your hands fly to his hair, fisting in the dark strands. “Oh, god..Right there, Don’t stop,”

He doesn’t. He eats you out with a dedicated, obsessive curiosity that was equal parts lover and mad inventor. He tests everything. How you react when he flicks the ring rapidly. How you shudder when he tugs it softly with his teeth. How you sob when he combines a slow, flat lick over it with a finger slipping inside you.

You are babbling, a complete mess beneath him, completely at the mercy of his curious mouth and your own brave, stupid, wonderful decision.

“Koo.. please! Im gonna-“

He hummed with his lips wrapped around the silver bud, the vibration traveling through the metal and straight to your core. He adds a second finger, crooking them inside you, and doubles down on the suction.

You come with a shattered scream, your body arching so hard only his arms around your thighs keep you grounded. The orgasm is like electricity, arcing from the silver focal point through your entire being. He holds you through it, gentling his motions but not stopping, drinking every drop until you collapse, limp and trembling.

He crawls up your body, wiping his chin on his shoulder. He looks utterly, devastatingly pleased with himself. And so, so turned on. His jeans are painfully tight.

“I need to feel it with my dick,” He gets his jeans and boxers down just enough, holding his hard cock against your core, and started rubbing it between your folds.

You shake from the over sensitivity, lifting your hips away, trying to escape the delicious friction. But Jungkook doesn’t let you, he holds your hips firmly down with one hand, as he strokes his cock on your glistening pussy.

“Fuck, baby. This feels insane. I can feel it on my dick.”

He throws his head back, moaning loudly,

His hand stroking his cock now is pressing on the hard length, as he moves his hips in a sensual, rhythmic pace.

He looks down, watching the head of his cock nudge against the silver bead, wet from his tongue and mixed pre-cum. He meets your eyes, his own blazing.

“Best,” he grunts, pushing inside with one deep, relentless thrust that makes you both moan, “Gift.” Another thrust. “Ever.”

He sets a punishing, grateful pace. Each thrust of his hips grinds the piercing against his pubic bone, sending fresh sparks through your oversensitive flesh. Each withdrawal makes you whimper. He’s talking, a rough, broken commentary.

“Feel it… every time… god, who knew? Who knew it would be like this?”

You can only cling to him, nails scraping down his back, as he chases his own release. The combined sensations— his length sliding in and out your sensitive tight hole, one hand groping both your bouncing tits, the other roughly rubbing your clit and the silver bead— build you back up impossibly fast towards another peak.

“Cum with me,” he demands, his rhythm faltering. ”i can feel you close, baby. Come on, let go with me”

His words, his thrusts, the overwhelming rightness of him home and inside you, his steady thumb flicking your sensitive bud, it tips you over. Your second orgasm crashes into you, softer than the first but deeper, a warm, pooling wave of bliss that squeezes around him.

With a shout that’s part laugh, part sob, he follows you, pumping into you as he finds his own release, his body shuddering above yours.

He collapses, a dead weight of satisfied exhaustion, but rolls almost immediately to pull you against his side. You’re both a sticky, sweaty, happy mess on the couch.

His hand, as if magnetized, finds its way back between your thighs. He doesn’t stroke, just rests his fingers over the piercing, holding it gently. Making you flinch away.

“So,” he says after a few minutes of heavy breathing, his voice buzzing against your temple where his lips are pressed. “The aftercare. What’s that like? Salt water soaks? Specific soap? We need to get the right stuff. I’ll order it. Did they give you a pamphlet?”

You snort-laugh into his chest, the sound muffled. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m serious!” he insists, squeezing you. “It’s a high-value asset. Requires proper maintenance.” He’s quiet for another moment, then you feel his smile against your skin. “Thank you,” he whispers, all the playfulness gone, replaced by profound sincerity. “It’s the craziest, hottest, most ‘you’ thing ever. I love it.”

A/N: i ngl i had to search everything abt the clit piercing since I’ve no idea how it’s like so if there was any bs written, ignore it 😞

Hope y’all enjoyed

Thank u for the request anon!💕

The bathroom light turned on with a flick, and you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Mascara was smudged and clumped around your eyes and lashes, and your makeup was still messily clinging to your cheeks from last night. You smacked your lips together a little: your mouth tasted faintly of the liquor from last night and Taehyung’s sweet saltiness on your tongue. 

You felt filthy.

Since Taehyung had to leave for a last-minute work thing, you decided you were going to make it to your shift today. 

The shower turned on with a squeak, and you let the warm water rinse over your entire body, washing off last night’s sins and secrets. You let the water thud into your back, releasing a bit of tension from your neck and back from the week before. 

Within the hour, you were washed clean, fed with breakfast, hair blow-dried, and you looked like you: without the emotional turmoil of last night. Just before the clock struck eleven AM, you were already headed down the stairs gracefully as you made it down to the fifteenth floor, the highest floor this building’s rickety elevators would take you before you had to take the staircase. 

You glanced at yourself in the blurry reflection of the metal wall of the elevator as you descended to floor two–again, this building was not known for its accessibility–and fluffed your freshly washed hair and adjusted your bag on your shoulder. You breathed a little sigh of relief: you felt refreshed, reset from the whirlwind of vulnerability that Taehyung had suddenly poured out to you late last night, and you were hopeful that this all meant that maybe he was willing to let you into his life a little more than just as a fly on the wall when he wanted one. 

Maybe last night was the sign you both needed to hold each other with more than an attempt to escape loneliness.

Your shoulders dropped a little as you released a deep exhale. The elevator doors dragged open with all their might, and you jogged down the little flight of stairs and out into the fresh sunny air.

The feeling of the warm sun on your face gave you a visceral wash of pleasure over your skin, and you stopped for a moment, just standing there, eyes closed, letting the golden light warm you, blanket you in a sense of comfort, like today was a turning point for you, and things were going to be okay. You opened your palms by your sides, turning them upwards to soak in the sun, like you were a little daisy drinking up the sunlight for nutrients. 

A hum of a motorcycle pulled you out of your photosynthesizing trance, and you peeled your eyes open, following the sound. A motorcycle had just pulled into the parking lot, the rider dressed in all black and a completely reflective helmet that covered their face entirely. As the engine turned off with a switch, they tugged their helmet off, shaking their hair out in the warm sunlight. 

“Jungkook?” You spoke before you had truly decided if it was a good idea. 

He flicked his head in the direction of your voice, his hair pressed down onto his forehead from the helmet. He shook out his bangs before running a hand through his hair, his helmet tucking itself under his arm. 

“Oh. Hey, morning.” 

“What are you doing here?” 

He looked at you with a small, awkward smile. 

“Uh, you live one floor beneath my boss, remember?” He nodded his head towards the backpack that was strapped tightly onto his back. 

You pressed your lips together, nodding a little. 

“Right, I–anyway.” 

He swung his one leg off of his bike seat and walked up to you, his eyes taking in your unfamiliar ensemble. 

“Where are you headed?” His one brow was raised. 

Jungkook glanced down at your outfit. You were dressed in a stretchy black tight long-sleeve, a pair of faded black trousers, and black non-slip sneakers. You carried a large tote bag on your shoulder. 

“I’m going to work,” you said as you hoisted the bag back to the top of your shoulder. 

“As a…” he cocked his head to the side with a semi-amused grin. “Small…security guard?” 

“I’m a server at a restaurant, you idiot,” you said with a scowl. Jungkook let out a laugh, adjusting his arm on his helmet.

“Anyway, I have to catch the bus. I don’t want to be late; I’ve already missed work twice last week.”

Jungkook let out half a laugh and glanced away from you for a moment, his brow furrowing in the bright sunshine.

“Keep sleeping in?”

“No, it’s because Taehyung wanted me to stay with him.”

Jungkook faced you again and fell silent for a moment, a frown washing over his face.

You checked your phone before tucking it back into your pocket. 

“My bus comes in—“

“Don’t let him keep you from your job.” 

“Huh?”

“Don’t let him prevent you from getting what you need to do done.” 

Jungkook’s sudden serious demeanour caught you off guard, and all you could do was stare up at him, dumbfounded. He continued.

“That’s your livelihood, your independence. Don’t let him take that away from you, even if he’s sweet-talking you that day. I can’t imagine not taking the chance…just believe me. The independence to do what you want with your life without someone dictating that for you is a privilege.”

Your mouth fell slightly open at how honest Jungkook suddenly was. You stared at the ground, a little embarrassed to even admit that you thought he could be right. 

“I…yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

He tilted his head down, watching your pupils shake as you processed the words he just said to you. He wasn’t frowning at you, just looking at you the way an older brother scolds his younger sibling. Stern, but unintimidating. 

His eyes suddenly caught something behind you, following the moving object with his gaze. 

“Is that your bus?” Jungkook nodded towards the bus that was now about to approach the stop on the corner of your building.

“Shit, yeah,” you blurted as you started to hurry towards your stop. “Gotta run, see you.”

Jungkook gave you a nod, amusement all over his face as he watched you run to catch your bus. 

You were too frazzled from trying to make it to work on time that you didn’t even notice that Jungkook had remained outside, standing there watching you disappear down the street. As your bus turned the corner, he shook his head with a small laugh and finally entered your brown-bricked building. 

Maybe it was the warm sunlight and clear skies today, but he seemed like he was in a brighter mood today. 

The knock at the door came right on time, as it almost always did. Taehyung was already waiting by the door and unlocked the deadbolt with one quick turn. 

“Hey.” Jungkook’s voice was casual, his hand in his pocket as he stepped inside the creaky-floored apartment with the large backpack on his other shoulder, as always. 

“Hey, you’re a little early.”

Taehyung sat back down on the seat of his couch, watching his associate set the bag down in the middle of the dining table. Taehyung was dressed in a white slim-fitting T-shirt, the sleeves rolled and cuffed up to sit perfectly on the valley of his large biceps. He wore blue jeans that were belted with a scarf, the cinching emphasizing his slim waist. He had his leg tossed over his other as he watched his associate, nursing a mug in his hand.

“How was the drive to Mokpo early this morning?” 

“Long. Quiet. Barely any traffic at three AM.” 

Jungkook leaned against the kitchen counter, resting his motorcycle helmet on the surface, shedding his gloves, keys, and other small belongings from his pockets. He rolled his neck around, stiff from the long drive, before speaking. 

Taehyung glanced over at the helmet on his counter.

“You took the bike today.” 

“Yeah, it’s nice out. I thought, why not.” 

Taehyung chuckled and uncrossed his leg before crossing it again over the other. Jungkook yawned, stretching his arms over his head. Taehyung noticed.

“Sleepy?” 

“Aiish, you had me attend the casino last night and immediately drive four hours back and forth to Mokpo for the drop-off this morning at seven AM. Yeah, I’m fucking exhausted.” 

Taehyung chuckled. He set his mug down on the side table.

“It’s a part of the job, Jungkookie.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I just feel fucking stiff as hell today.” 

“Well, you can go get a massage with the other grandmas today, then.” 

Jungkook laughed, cracking his knuckles. 

“You try driving for almost eight hours after not sleeping the night before.” 

Taehyung dropped his head against the back of his couch, stretching his neck. 

“That’s what you’re there for. I don’t have to do that shit anymore,” Taehyung said with a small grin.

Jungkook cleared his throat before his expression got a little more serious.

“One of San’s guys was taken in for possession of a controlled substance in Ulsan last night.”

Taehyung’s tongue poked in his cheek, a flicker of irritation dancing across his face. He lifted his head off the back of the couch. 

“Fucking guy. And?” 

“San said he was booked for possession for personal use and not intention to distribute.”

“And we’re sure about that?” 

“San said he’d take care of him, and he sounded pretty damn pissed about it.”

“Does San know he’s a dead man if he doesn’t keep this under control?” 

“I made that abundantly clear over the phone. And I’ll make sure to hammer the sentiment home the next time I drive to Busan.” 

Taehyung shrugged, crossing his leg over the other. 

“Sounds like you have it all under control, JK.” 

Jungkook gave a curt nod, leaning against the counter. 

“It’s not like the poor fuck can afford a great lawyer.” 

Taehyung hummed. 

“Why, because he’s so broke with the amount of product we give him to push? Busan and Ulsan are big fucking customers,” Taehyung mumbled, his eyes closed. 

Jungkook scoffed. 

“It’s because he’s sloppy.” 

Taehyung raised his head again, one eye prying open at his driver. 

“Yeah, and you’re so precise.” 

Jungkook nodded his head. 

“Name one thing I’ve ever screwed up for you, boss.” 

Taehyung raised one brow at him. 

“Oh yeah?” He pointed at the black backpack on the dining table. “How much is in there?” 

“Eighty-seven million won.” 

“You sure?” 

“T.” Jungkook stared at him, his brow raised. “I’m telling you, that’s the number.” 

“Prove it. Count it.” 

Jungkook scoffed, irritation trickling into his demeanour. 

“I’m not going to count it; I counted it already before driving all the way back over here at seven AM. You fucking count–” 

Click.

Taehyung was suddenly aiming a loaded pistol right at Jungkook’s head, the safety coming off with a dull mechanical snap.

Jungkook furrowed his brows for just a split second before he understood exactly what was going on. He stared at his boss in a mixture of confusion and anger, frozen in place. 

“I said, count it.” Taehyung’s voice was cold, eyes trained on him like he was a tiger watching his prey.

“T. What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook’s voice was quieter, but held strong still, barely a shake in his words. 

Taehyung nodded towards the zipped-up black bag, still slumped on the table. Jungkook slowly lowered himself into a dining chair, his eyes still glued to Taehyung’s hand. 

“Just making sure my driver does his due diligence, you know? I wouldn’t want to find out he was stealing from me or anything, right?” 

Jungkook shook his head in pure confusion, his brows knitted together in annoyance.

“T, what are you talking about, I’ve literally never stolen from you.”

“Right.” 

Taehyung stood up from his seat on the couch, gun still trained perfectly on Jungkook’s face, taking a step into the overhead lamp that dangled from the water-stained ceiling. As the harsh lighting illuminated his boss’s face and body properly, Jungkook’s expression fell.

In Taehyung’s other hand, dangling off his finger, was a familiar shred of black lace underwear, ruined and torn from the hip. Jungkook’s eyes snapped to the piece of fabric, and his heart sank.

“Shit.”

Taehyung hummed as he dropped the fabric onto the table in front of both of them. 

“So. How was dropping off Y/N the other night?” 

Jungkook swallowed slowly, his hands still landing carefully on the black bag, wary of any sudden movements. 

“T. I’m…I didn’t mean to–”

Taehyung’s laugh rumbled in his chest as if he had just been told a joke. Jungkook glanced at his own pistol, left abandoned atop the kitchen counter, along with his gloves, keys, and anything else that he had come in with. 

He was so trapped now.

“Didn’t mean to. Right.” 

Jungkook knew better than to protest. He knew what he was doing that night when he dropped his hand onto your inner thigh, touching what didn’t belong to him. Chatting with you like you two were close friends, like he wasn’t assigned to simply deliver you home. Nothing more.

Taehyung rounded the table, pressing the barrel of his gun directly into his subordinate’s temple. The icy metal was cool against the side of his head, but Jungkook stared down into the bag, accepting his fate. 

“Count it.” 

Jungkook’s hands moved slowly but steadily, tugging on the metal zipper until it slid open. The zipper opened with a whiny, slow sound, and the mountains of cash peeked out. He held his breath steadily as he moved his hands, removing each stack of cash carefully from its fabric enclosure. 

“Eighty-seven million won. I promise.” 

Taehyung hummed. 

“Show me.” 

One by one, each stack of bills was neatly organized on the counter. Jungkook’s hands moved smoothly with the bills, making sure to keep everything in view as he worked.

With a shaky breath, he looked back up at Taehyung.

“Boss, I swear to you. I didn’t intend for anything to happen.” 

Taehyung said nothing, his eyes focused on the bills being laid out on the table. Jungkook continued, his voice shakier with each word.

“It was a stupid fucking lapse in judgement. I would never plot against you, T, I swear–”

“Really stupid fucking lapse in judgement.” Taehyung pressed the gun a little closer into Jungkook’s temple, his jaw clenched. 

Jungkook blinked a few times, nodding his head. 

“Yeah. Really, really fucking stupid. I know. I’m so sorry.” 

“How’d she taste?” 

Jungkook blinked. 

“What?” 

Taehyung picked up the torn underwear from the table, holding it up in front of Jungkook’s face. 

“I mean, you were desperate enough to tear her panties off. Don’t tell me you didn’t taste her?”

“I–I don’t–” Jungkook stammered, his brows still furrowed as he stared into the backpack. 

Taehyung nudged the barrel against Jungkook’s head again. 

“Come on, Jungkookie. We’ve known each other since you were eighteen; you tell me everything, hm?” 

Jungkook bit his tongue.

“Um, it was…it was fine.” 

The barrel pressed harder into his temple. 

“Fine?” Taehyung laughed. “You’re putting your life on the line for a girl that’s just fine?”

“T, I…don’t understand what you want.” Jungkook’s voice was quiet, his shame weighing his head down towards the table, avoiding Taehyung’s gaze.

“I want,” Taehyung brought his pointer finger dangerously close to the trigger, resting it lazily against Jungkook’s temple, “I want you to count the cash you brought me as my employee while you tell me exactly how good my girl was to you.” 

Even with the gun pressed so firmly against his head, Taehyung's words cut Jungkook deeper.

“...It was good. She was good." 

“Good?”

“She was great, I…I never fucked her. I swear to you. We just–I mean, she–I never even got my clothes off.” 

“You fuck her mouth?” 

“God, no, just–” Jungkook was spluttering now, tripping over his words as he fought the embarrassment of telling his boss exactly what he did to you. 

“Come on, Jungkookie, you’re never this uncoordinated with your words. What’s going on?” Taehyung was toying with him, the anger boiling in him so hot that it spilled over like a sickly humour. 

“She just…rode me over my jeans.” The words left Jungkook’s tongue full of shame, tasting bitter. Taehyung let out a laugh, one loud, booming chuckle that made Jungkook’s head drop even further.

“And? Her underwear?” 

“I…I just fingered her; that’s all.”

Taehyung said nothing at first. Then let out a low grumbly laugh. 

“You…risked your life…to jizz your pants?” 

“I…I’m sorry.” Jungkook’s face was burning with humiliation now, but he furrowed his brows and held his gaze down at the cash. 

“See? Eighty-seven million won. I fucking swear.” Jungkook scooted his chair back slightly to let Taehyung survey the cash pile himself. Taehyung lightened the pressure of the gun pressed against Jungkook’s head for a moment, taking a step forward as he studied the neatly stacked cash piles for himself. 

Jungkook sat there, frozen, leaning back in the dining chair, as Taehyung counted in silence.

“T, seriously, I’m so fucking sorry.” he let the words trip over themselves as they left his mouth. “I’m so sorry, so fucking so–”

“You’re sorry?”

Jungkook nodded fervently, his jewelry jingling in his ears as he bobbed his head.

“Get on your knees and tell me.”

He furrowed his brows, but there wasn’t a single drop of lightheartedness in Taehyung’s expression. The gun was still trained perfectly on his head. Jungkook slowly stood up from the chair, both hands in the air as he lowered himself to his knees, the creaky floorboard squeaking below the weight shift. A small smirk tugged on Taehyung’s lips at the sight of his driver, his hitman, the man who served him like a loyal dog for so long, on his knees begging for mercy like a broke man to a loan shark.

“T. I’m so sorry.” 

“Do you like her?” 

Jungkook felt his throat get tight.

Did he? 

If he were being honest with himself, he was so intrigued by you, to say the least. Aside from an occasional one-night stand with whoever was bored and hot enough at the bar, Jungkook wasn’t someone who dabbled much in intimacy. At least not anymore.

His younger years had him in another woman’s bed every other night, because what young, hot, drug dealer’s driver wouldn’t? But as he got older, the sex got more repetitive, the strangers got more strange, and he cared less and less about human connection. He was sprawled across the entire southern coast of South Korea all the time; he didn’t require the attention of a woman to make him happy. The women who typically looked at him were flirty, lonely, and just as down to fuck as he was. Everything in his life was casual.

But you held his attention in a way he didn’t know how to deal with. You had a good head on your shoulders; you put others’ needs before yours; you were kind and scared; you were good. Unlike the people he grew up around, you didn’t have any ulterior motive. You were just around because you wanted to be. Because you cared. And you were so easy to care about. He actively ignored you whenever he could, but he found himself glancing at you anyway. 

And Jungkook was not one to lose self-control or falter easily. His job had hardened him over the years, his first murder committed at the young age of twenty-one, a body that symbolized his allegiance to this life, to his boss. Jungkook proved himself at an early age, determined to gain the trust of his hyung. 

Which made it all the worse when he was now struggling to form a quick answer in front of him. 

“No–no.” 

“Okay. So you wouldn’t mind if I brought her up here to…hash things out between us.” 

Jungkook squinted slightly, confusion on his face. Taehyung’s eyes were trained on him like a tiger on a rabbit. 

“No? I don’t understand what you mean.” 

Taehyung slid his gun down Jungkook’s face, now propping it under his chin, the barrel pressed into Jungkook’s jaw. 

“You know better than this, JK.” 

“I do, I do,” he repeated. 

“She’s easy to lose control over, isn’t she?” 

“A…a little.”

“But I need someone who works for me to be stronger than that.” 

“Yes, I fucking swear to you, I will never, ever pull some shit like this again. T. Taehyung. Please.” 

“I know, because I’m going to make sure of it.” Taehyung laughed, resting his finger directly on the trigger. “Don’t you remember, Jungkookie? No loose ends.”

Taehyung’s smile faded, his eyes half-lidded and gaze stone-cold again as he looked at his poor younger brother, shaking underneath his trigger finger. He pressed ever so slightly on the trigger, just enough to move it by barely a millimetre. Jungkook saw the motion and flicked his eyes closed.

“Shit,” Jungkook whimpered. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to steady his breath as he accepted his fate. He knew he was going to be punished for this, and he couldn’t be surprised at all that this was how Taehyung wanted him to go out.

It was almost a poetic end to Jungkook’s whirlwind time on earth.

His life wasn’t terribly fruitful anymore. At first, it was cool to brag to his friends that he had started hanging out with a new friend who was a few years older than him and had a mysterious bad boy job. But now, the rush was replaced by a constant, barely there feeling of adrenaline, a lifetime of looking over his shoulder, and the numbness to blood and murder that left his mind quietly calm at all times. After dozens and dozens of bodies at the command of his boss or simply because Jungkook decided it was better to kill than to trust, the noise inside him had silenced. Inside, Jungkook felt quiet, empty, like his human life wasn’t one at all, like he had transitioned into a different being years ago, one that didn’t require love or food.

And maybe this was exactly the type of end he deserved. 

But now, on his knees, with the same cold metal that he held up against others without a second thought, he felt himself shake. He clenched his fists by his side as he pictured his younger version standing in front of him in his mind. Asking him to do better, that when that little light swallowed him up in this lifetime, the next life would be different.

Taehyung let out a sigh, flicking Jungkook’s jaw upwards harshly with the barrel. The contact made his jaw sting, but he held his hands by his side steadily, letting the gun bruise his chin. 

“Get up.” Taehyung barked. Jungkook scrambled to his feet. 

“I’m not going to kill you. Death would be too easy for a man like you.” 

Jungkook nodded, his eyes drilled forward like he was back in the military. His lips were trembling, but he bit them to keep them still. 

“You’ve got something worse coming from you than death if I ever hear a whisper that you want to fuck with me again,” Taehyung growled into his driver’s ear. “And I swear. I will have an incredible time torturing you for the rest of your life. So just try me.” 

Jungkook felt his blood freeze in his veins at his boss’s words. 

“Ye-yes,” he stammered, bowing his head intensely at the mercy being shown to him. “I won’t pull anything like that ever again, I swear.” 

“Good.” Taehyung tucked his pistol back into the back of his waistband before walking back to the dining table, turning his attention back to the cash. 

“I’m keeping your cut this week. Deliver on time next week with no issues, and you’ll start to get paid again.” 

“Okay.” Jungkook bowed his head, folding his hands behind him like a soldier. He flexed his forearms to hold his shaky hands steady. 

“And I need you to do something for me.” 

“Sure, boss, anything,” he nodded nervously.

Taehyung looked back at him, a smug smile tugging on his lips as he glared at him. 

The little signal light dinged as you pressed for the bus driver to let you off at the next stop. The bus had dropped you off a little late today, go figure. Your earbuds dangled from your ears, your music thrumming in your ears as you bobbed your head to the beat. You pulled your phone out. 4:41 pm. 

The bus rolled to a screechy halt, before the doors swung open and you stepped off, giving a quick bow to the bus driver on your way out. You hoisted your work bag high onto your shoulder as you began the short walk to your apartment.

You swiped down to reread the missed text from Taehyung about an hour ago. 

When you’re home from work, come up to see me. I’m hungry.

You stared at the text and glanced up at the towering brown building in front of you with a squint. And without a second thought, you sauntered up the stairs to drop your bag off at your apartment. 

You had taken a quick shower and changed into a loose sweater and leggings before knocking on Taehyung’s door. The door unlocked within a few seconds, and the door swung open shortly after.

“There you are,” he murmured, his voice low and silky. 

“Hi Tae, sorry my bus dropped me off late, and I took a quick shower before coming up,” you said as you kicked your slippers off. “Are there already groceries in the fridge? I can start cooking now–” 

“Actually, bunny, I wanted you to do something else for me.” 

You turned your head back to him, confusion evident on your face. 

“I thought your text said you were hungry?” You tilted your head to one side. 

“Mm. I actually wanted–” Taehyung took a step closer towards you, “—you to come see me for something else.” 

His hands found your waist immediately, his lips attaching themselves to your neck shortly after. Your eyes widened, and then fluttered closed. Your arms came up to wrap around his neck instinctively, and you felt Taehyung smile into your neck. 

“Tae, what are you–” You dropped your head to the side, giving him more access.

“So easy to convince, hm?” Taehyung murmured into your skin. “My little sensitive girl.” 

He massaged slow circles on your bum with one hand as his other hand roamed your waist, exploring your body over the smooth material of your leggings. Taehyung lifted his head from your neck, closing you in with a kiss. His tongue darted into your mouth commandingly, taking control of the kiss immediately. You let out a little whimper, and he groaned into your mouth, his tongue exploring every part of your mouth. 

“Just needed to get you like this again, baby,” he murmured. “Wanted to see your pretty naked body again; touch what’s mine, it’s been so long.” 

He picked you up so easily, wrapping your legs around his waist without his lips ever disconnecting from you. You let out a moan into his mouth. The way he handled you was always enough to send a spark of interest to your lower half almost immediately. He dipped you a little with every press of his lips against yours, sending butterflies to your stomach with every motion. 

“Come on, baby, take that sweater off for me,” he murmured into your mouth. “Let me see you, pretty girl.” 

You obeyed without hesitation, leaning back only to give yourself enough separation to tug your sweater off of your body, your lack of bra surprising Taehyung as you were left bare-chested in his arms. 

“Fuck,” he murmured to himself. “Prettiest thing in the whole world. And you’re all mine.” 

The cool air sent goosebumps to your skin, your nipples forming into peaks. Taehyung’s eyes looked so hungry, and he hoisted you up a little higher onto his waist so easily, his strong arms moving you along his body like you weighed nothing. He closed his lips around one of your stiffened nipples, and you tossed your head back at the sensation. 

“Tae, ah,” you whimpered, his warm mouth swallowing your breast whole with such hunger that it made your head spin. “God, that feels–that feels nice.” 

He hummed against your skin, pressing his face deeper into the squishy flesh of your breast. He stood there in the middle of his dining room, with you in his arms, consuming your exposed skin, kissing, licking, and suckling on your chest and collarbones until you were practically dripping with arousal, your leggings suddenly feeling too tight and hot. 

Taehyung eventually took a few steps closer towards his dining chair, placing you gently into the seat in front of him. He looked down at you with a hungry smirk as he licked his lower lip. 

“Let’s see you in all your beauty, baby. Take those off for me, too,” he gestured towards your leggings. 

You blushed wildly at his command, but lifted your hips off the chair to tug your leggings down as well, until you were completely naked on his cold dining chair. Taehyung bit his lower lip, lowering himself to his knees in front of you. 

“Such a pretty girl,” he mumbled, kissing your exposed skin all over again. “No wonder Si-Kwon felt entitled to touch you. You were practically dangling yourself in front of everyone else all night.” 

Your eyes widened momentarily at his words.

“Taehyu–” He interrupted you with a kiss before drifting his hungry lips back down to your neck, suckling and nipping at the skin.

“No. You’ve lost that privilege tonight. We need to teach you a lesson for being too kind to other men, hm? Especially when you’re dressed that pretty.” He murmured into your neck, still focused on marking your skin with a fresh, purple bruise, just above your collarbone.

You whimpered under his mouth, letting him mark you however he wanted as you felt yourself dissolve into his chair. Taehyung pulled away from your skin with a wet pop, his eyes dark and blown out already, a hungry smirk plastered on his face, like he was a wolf waiting to eat his little prey.

“From now on, you only address me as sir.” 

You held your tongue, your eyes dropping down to the floor. You felt your thighs squeeze together, your arousal already threatening to wet your inner leg.

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good girl,” Taehyung growled before rising back up to his feet. 

“What am I going to do with you?” Taehyung’s voice towered over you as he circled you slowly. “Too pretty to bring outside, too pretty to leave alone. Maybe I'll just trap you here with me until you learn how to be respectful, hm baby?”

You felt your stomach stir with something heavy. The same dirty desire that always crept up on you whenever Taehyung talked to you with a little more filth, a little more anger. 

You were a puddle in his hands already.

Taehyung reached behind you without breaking eye contact, retrieving a familiar spool of black cord that held you down in his bedroom weeks ago. Your mouth fell open, the deep, animalistic craving of being bound by him again eclipsing your judgement entirely.

“Hands,” he ordered. 

You offered your wrists up towards him, and he collected both your wrists in his one large hand, before wrapping the smooth rope firmly around your wrists, binding your hands together in front of you. 

“I should have known better than to let you out of my sight.” His eyes were focused on your hands as he expertly wrapped the cord around your arms and tied the rope into a firm knot. 

“You’re just too much, bunny.”

Your heart pounded a little harder in your chest. The familiar restraint on your wrists sent a chill down to the deep pits of your stomach, and your thighs clenched together. 

“You’re too innocent-looking; those eyes could make anyone feel like they have a right to you. Like a wide-eyed, little doe. Too cute, too precious. But only I know how dirty you really are for me, isn’t that right, pet?” Taehyung’s voice was silk against your ears, and you squeezed your eyes shut in pure pleasure at just the sound of his dirty praise for you. 

“Mhm,” you whined, the sensation of your hands bound together making your pussy twitch. 

Taehyung tugged on the rope once to check the tension before he loosened his scarf from his belt loop, twisting the fabric to form a thin band. He took a step towards you again, a smirk growing in the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m taking away another privilege tonight.” 

He wrapped the scarf around your face, tying a smooth knot behind your head. The fabric blindfolded you, shutting all the light out from the room and leaving you in blank nothingness. 

“Taehyung,” your voice came out breathy, your bound wrists resting in your bare lap. 

“Hm?” 

“S-sir,” you corrected yourself. 

“That’s right.”

Your hearing was heightened, trying to locate him in the room as you heard the floorboards creak beneath his weight. 

Suddenly, his low voice was soft and directly in your ear.

“I think you’re forgetting that I own you.” 

You let out a small gasp, the vibration of his voice against your eardrum sending a chill down your spine. 

“Isn’t that right, angel?”

You nodded, your lip pinched between your teeth now. 

“Use your words.”

“Yes, sir.”

His little scoff echoed through the room in front of you, and you heard the sound of a zipper coming undone. A finger came up to tilt your chin upwards ever so slightly, the thumb gently stroking your chin, before grazing your lower lip. 

“Mm, you really don’t know what you bring out in me, angel.” His voice was directly above you, the air in front of you feeling warm. 

“C-come show me, then,” you challenged, but your voice only came out in a low whine. Taehyung chuckled above you before pressing his thumb into your lower lip, granting himself entry.

“Oh yeah? Open your mouth for me.”

You abided, parting your lips just enough for Taehyung to hum in satisfaction in front of you. 

“What a good girl.”

The warmth of Taehyung’s cock was suddenly pushed against your mouth, the familiar salty wetness from his beading precum pricking your lips and tongue. You let out a moan, opening your mouth wider, letting him inch himself further into your mouth. 

He hissed as his thick, heavy cock pushed past your lips, nestling comfortably inside the warmth of your mouth. Your moan was muffled, his size filling your throat completely. 

“Let’s give you a little reminder of how things are, shall we?” Taehyung groaned as he adjusted himself in your mouth.

He snapped his hips up towards your face, the tip of his cock knocking into the back of your throat. You felt yourself gag slightly, the contraction of your throat around his cock earning a low moan from the man in front of you. 

“You’re mine.”

He bucked his hips into you a little quicker now, the rhythm and slight roll of his hips making the pool between your legs harder to ignore. 

“Mine to use.”

You felt a hand come up to hold your hair, steadying your head as Taehyung continued gently fucking your mouth. The encouragement only aided you, and you slid your tongue desperately along the base of his dick, your saliva pooling desperately in your mouth, hungry for more. 

Taehyung groaned at your eagerness, your tongue lapping up enthusiastically along the underside of his cock. 

“Mine to touch.”

Another hand came down to fondle your bare breast. You let out a moan, muffled on Taehyung’s length as the rough palm massaged your tit firmly but gently. You felt like a toy, being touched and massaged however he saw fit. 

“Mine to share.”

The grip on your hair tightened into a ponytail, and you furrowed your brows underneath the blindfold. The way you were being held, the way your hair was being pulled, and the sensation of the hand on your breast, it almost felt like you were being touched by someone standing behind you—

“Isn’t that right, Jungkook?”

“Yeah, that’s damn right.” 

A familiar low voice came from behind you, and you felt your entire body tense up. You froze in your seat, your hands coming up together to instinctively reach out in front of you, making contact with Taehyung’s pelvic bone in front of your face. 

“Hm, hm,” you tried, but your mouth was stuffed full. 

Jungkook’s hands were firm on your tit, massaging and gripping your breast hungrily. His other hand remained on your hair, gripping your hair in a firm ponytail as his boss fucked his cock deeper and deeper into your throat.

You pushed against Taehyung’s hips in protest, the sensation of him filling your throat all too much for you. A familiar hand picked your hands up, and in one easy motion, your hands were trapped in his one strong hand, holding you hostage as he continued his torture in your mouth.

“What did we learn last time you tried to push me off early, baby?” Taehyung’s voice was strained from the pleasure, but still rolling his words in his commanding, teasing tone. “You always seem to forget I’m so much stronger than you.” 

“Mmph,” you whimpered, your noise barely audible with how full your mouth and throat were. 

“What was that, darling? Couldn’t hear you.” Taehyung’s voice was low and sharp, like he was scolding you. 

He fucked his cock roughly into your mouth a few more times before sliding out of you with a filthy wet pop. You gasped for air, coughing as your mouth dripped with saliva, your head falling forward. A hand came to wipe your chin, collecting your spin and pressing their thumb back into your mouth, and you instinctively invited the digit into your mouth, licking and sucking hungrily. 

At this point, you had lost track of where each of them was standing, and you didn’t know who was touching you where anymore. The lack of knowing drove you crazy, and you let out a needy breath.

“My sweet, dirty girl.” Taehyung's voice was directly in your ear again, his warm breath tingling against your earlobe. “Letting Jungkook touch you however he pleased while I wasn’t here.”

Your cheeks burned, and you felt the heat rising to your face. 

“I’m sorry,” you pleaded. “Taehyung, I’m so sorry, please–”

“Who’s Taehyung?” His voice echoed back. You felt a storm brewing in your stomach at how strict he was being with you today. 

“Sir, I’m sorry, sir,” you whined, pinching your legs together to try to minimize the pulsing that you could feel in your clit. You were certain his chair was covered in your arousal now. 

Taehyung scoffed, the warmth of his face against your ear disappearing as he stood back up.

“Far too late for that now.”

And with those words, a pair of hands came down to separate your thighs from each other, exposing you to the cool air of the apartment. You whimpered, the feeling of being exposed to the two men in the room making your cheeks burn.

“You’re sorry, huh?” Taehyung sounded a little further away. A pair of fingers slid down to your clit, parting your dripping folds so easily, and you let out a cry at the attention you were receiving. You reached your hands forward again, your hands coming in contact with a broad, clothed chest. You felt a familiar raised skin on the collarbone, from the aggressive needling from a tattoo gun.

These were Jungkook’s fingers on you. 

The realization sent another stir of arousal directly between your legs. 

“Were you sorry when you let Jungkook undress you?”

You nodded fervently, unable to form words with the immense pleasure that you were feeling. 

Taehyung scoffed. 

“You don’t even seem like you mean it.” 

“I do, sir, I do. I’m sorry,” you whimpered, Jungkook’s fingers still stirring up a familiar, slow-burning pressure in your stomach. Despite your words, your body told a different story; you were humping up gently into the air, your legs widening more to give him easier access. 

“I’m so–sorry, sir,” you cried, your bound hands folded against your chest as you let these two men do whatever they wanted to you. 

“Prove it to me, then. Open your mouth again, baby.” Taehyung’s voice was right in front of you again. 

You hesitated, but you let your mouth fall open again, the ties on your wrists weighing your hands down. 

The familiar push against your mouth forced your lips open again, the length feeling heavy and slick against your tongue. You felt an unfamiliar, cold metallic object right at the base of the tip of the– 

“Fuuuck,” Jungkook groaned in front of you. 

Oh my god.

Jungkook pressed his hips deeper against your face, the new sensation of a different length and curve in your mouth sending a fire deep into your pussy. The drag of a cool metal bar along your tongue drove you wild, the contrast of the metal and the burning heat from Jungkook’s hard, flushed cock making you dizzy. 

“Tell me, Jungkook. How does her mouth feel?”

You feverishly licked up the base of his cock, your saliva dripping from your mouth and Jungkook’s cock as you took him in your mouth hungrily. 

“Fuck…she feels–so good. She’s so hungry for it, T.” 

Taehyung let out a low rumble of a laugh before you felt another pair of hands reach behind your head, holding you steady as Jungkook began to fuck your throat. You tried to let out a sound in protest, but it was muffled against Jungkook’s cock filling your mouth. Taehyung lowered himself to your ear, gripping you gently by the nape of your neck. 

“Can you tell the difference, sweet girl?” Taehyung’s honey voice came from next to you. “Between Jungkook’s cock and mine?”

You gagged on Jungkook’s length; he was much bigger than you were expecting, and his cock piercing was knocking against the back of your throat. You felt your throat squeeze tighter around him as you fought the urge to gag, and it only fueled the younger man in front of you more. 

“She’s so–fucking–oh my god,” Jungkook stuttered, letting himself get lost in your dirty mouth.

“Yeah, baby,” Taehyung hummed. “Show Jungkook how good my pretty girl’s mouth is.” 

Taehyung’s words only motivated you more, your bound hands coming up to hold yourself steady against Jungkook’s rough jeans as you bobbed your head more confidently, swallowing him with every knock of his thick cock against the back of your throat. You felt tears build up in your eyes, Jungkook’s curve poking directly into your throat. 

“Fuck, I’m close,” Jungkook panted, his hand landing on top of your head, guiding you onto him deeper as he fucked himself closer to his demise. 

Those words sent a spark to your stomach, and you began to pick up the pace, letting Jungkook’s stifled, strangled moans guide you forward. His hips stuttered forward a little, punching his cock further into your throat, and you painted your tongue all across the base of his cock, not letting an inch go untouched.

Jungkook was so damn whiny and vocal for you; it almost made you forget how tightly bound together you were.

“F–fuck, Y/N, you’re going to make me cum if you keep going–” 

“Jungkook,” Taehyung’s voice cut through the thick air between you two. “Stop.” 

And suddenly, you felt Jungkook’s hand lift off your head, and he slid out of you with a slow, disdained hesitation. You coughed a few times, your saliva dribbling from your mouth uncontrollably at the way your mouth was being used. You furrowed your brows, unable to tell what was happening in the room in front of you. 

“Good boy,” Taehyung hummed. 

Your thighs squeezed unbearably tight at Taehyung’s praise for his driver, the tension in the air making your mind melt. 

“Sir, please,” you whimpered into the blank space ahead of you. “Do whatever you want to me, please. Both of you.” 

A low, cocky laugh rang through the room. 

“Hear that, Jungkookie? She’s so desperate. You wanna please her, or should I?” 

“What–whatever you say, T.” Jungkook’s voice was breathy, the edge of his orgasm manifesting itself in his ragged breath.

“Did you let Jungkook fuck you, hm, bunny?”

Your brows furrowed beneath your blindfold, the weight of Taehyung’s feet shifting on the floor in front of you.

“N-no Tae.”

“What did I say, pet?” 

You swallowed hard, your body aching for any sort of touch. The rope around your wrist felt suffocating, your hands bound together in front of you so tightly that you had no choice but to clasp your fingers together. 

“No, sir.” 

Taehyung scoffed in front of you before you felt a firm, large hand land on your knees, spreading you wide open in your chair. You let out a small whine at the exposure, the cool air against your bare pussy sending a chill up your spine.

“Did you let him devour this sweet pussy?” Taehyung’s voice was lower now, right in front of your dripping heat, still pried open lewdly on his dining chair. 

“No-no.” 

“Damn right he didn’t,” Taehyung growled. 

And with those magic words, you felt a pair of large hands pick you up, the sudden motion making you squeal. Taehyung lifted you with ease, draping your legs up over his shoulders, his hands planted firmly on your bum, turning his shoulders and hands into your own personal throne. He pressed you up against the wall, the cool sensation of the drywall behind you making another wave of goosebumps ripple over your body. You squealed at the sensation of being hoisted so high up in the air, held up like you were on display, and your bound hands came down to hold Taehyung’s hair for balance, his head lined up directly in front of your trembling pussy. 

“Because this pussy is mine to do whatever I want with,” Taehyung growled before he pressed his mouth firmly against your folds, his tongue licking a long, wet stripe up the entire length of your heat. 

You let out a desperate yelp, the sensation making your back arch immediately. 

“S-sir!” you wailed out, your hands gripping his hair intensely already. Taehyung groaned into your pussy at the sensation of your fingers tangled in his hair, and he dipped his tongue deeper into your heat. 

You felt every nerve in your body burn, your body focusing all of its energy on receiving, feeling how good you were being devoured up against the wall. Taehyung’s wet tongue was flicking and dragging against your swollen clit so expertly, and you already felt yourself clenching desperately around the emptiness inside of you. 

“Sir, oh–my–god, please,” you cried out, unable to move yourself in any way as you were being dangled in the air like a ragdoll. “Please–fuck, you feel incredible.” 

Taehyung smiled into your heat, pushing his nose directly against your pubic bone as he picked up the pace with his flat tongue against your clit. He only took breaks to lower himself a little further, fucking his tongue into you hungrily as he gasped for air, his face never leaving between your legs. He dipped his tongue feverishly into your pussy before dragging his tongue all the way back up, focusing on torturing your swollen bud again.

You knocked your head back, tossing your head side to side helplessly at how hungrily Taehyung was eating you out. Eventually, the scarf began to slip, the fabric lowering itself ever so slightly on your face, letting some of the light of the room in. With one swift motion, you shook your head one last time, letting the fabric fall on purpose, landing around your neck like a collar. 

And my god, what a scene you were introduced to.

Taehyung had you pinned up against the wall; he was standing upright with your legs tossed over both his shoulders, his hands holding you up against his face like he was drinking out of you like a chalice. His eyes were closed, his face glistening with your arousal as he burrowed his face impossibly deep into your folds. 

You looked down at the man below you with wide, desperate eyes, your mouth open with an ‘O’ as you gripped his hair tighter, the rope around your wrists pinning your hands together still. Your legs were bouncing with each furious bob of Taehyung’s head, your feet gently swinging and bouncing in the air as he groaned into your wet heat. 

You looked up from the sight below you to see Jungkook, leaning against the back of Taehyung’s couch, in a black tank top, with his jeans unbuttoned just enough to free his cock, pumping himself slowly as he watched the scene of you against the wall, being devoured by his boss. His expression looked furrowed, almost angry, as he took in the glorious scene in front of him. He locked eyes with you, his mouth hung slightly open as he jerked himself off to the sight. He gave you a wink and an open-mouthed grin before he stood up, walking over to you. 

“Hold on,” Jungkook groaned with a half smirk, reaching his arms up to your neck, lifting the scarf back up to cover your eyes again. “Preview’s over.” 

You begged with your eyes for him to let you watch the scene unfold in front of you, but without hesitation, your eyes were sealed again, the darkness taking over your vision again. 

A whimper tore from your chest at the lack of vision again, and Taehyung’s tongue twisting and lapping you up like you held his salvation between your legs.

“Taehyung, I’m close,” you whimpered, your legs locking around his neck as you fought the urge to clamp your thighs around him, trapping him there. 

Suddenly, his lips and tongue removed themselves from your core, and you let out a spluttered, desperate whine at the loss of contact. 

“No–no,” you whimpered. “Please, Taehyung, please–” 

“What did I say you could call me?” 

You squirmed in the air, still trapped off the ground, straddling Taehyung’s shoulders. 

“Sir, sorry, sir. Please, more, ‘need more,” you babbled, already half-drunk off his tongue.

Taehyung growled, lifting you into the air so easily once more before tossing you over his shoulder firefighter-style. You yelped at the sudden change in position, your bum bare and exposed to the air. A large hand suddenly smacked you across the bum, and you whined at the sting; your bound hands pincered under your weight and Taehyung’s bare chest. 

“So disobedient when she’s horny like this,” Taehyung groaned, shaking his head. “What do I possibly do with you, love?” 

You felt yourself get carried throughout the dining room until a door swung open and you were tossed onto a bed. You bounced onto the mattress, the weight of what was happening settling deep into your chest. 

You were about to be wrecked.

“Let’s take that off for her, Jungkook.” Taehyung’s voice came from in front of you, and you felt a pair of hands come up to loosen the knot on the scarf that was tied around your eyes. Eventually, the light of the room poured back into your sensitive eyes, and you squinted at the sudden jump in brightness. 

You blinked a few times before your eyes adjusted, and in front of you, Taehyung was kneeling in front of you, already shirtless, his jeans unbuttoned and barely hanging off of his hips, his body perfectly on fucking show for you. You bit your lip and let out an unintentional whine just at the sight of him. 

Standing closely behind you, Jungkook was also shirtless, with his jeans just barely off, looking the hungriest and horniest you have ever seen him. He was pumping himself slowly, milking his long cock to your view, tied up and lying on Taehyung’s bed helplessly. 

“She likes to watch herself get ruined,” Taehyung said with a smirk to Jungkook, who already looked like a mess of a man who could barely hold on anymore. 

Taehyung lined himself up to your entrance, propping himself up on his arms as he guided himself up and down your folds, his head peeking in and out of your folds so lewdly. You watched the erotic scene, whimpering for more. 

“Jungkook. Hold her down for me while I fuck her.” 

Jungkook nodded, lowering himself to your level on the other end of the bed and taking your two bound hands, pinning them above your head so easily. His eyes were clouded, hazy as he watched you unfold into a perfect mess just for the two of them. You peered up at him helplessly as he held you down, blinking up at him with your innocent, round eyes, trying to lure him into giving you more leniency.

Your attention was robbed the moment Taehyung pressed the tip of his cock into you, and your head snapped back up, letting out a cry at the sensation of him stretching you out. 

“Fuck,” you whimpered, your head lifting off the mattress as you felt yourself stiffen at the feeling of Taehyung splitting you open. 

“Yeah, love, been a while, hasn’t it?” Taehyung was biting his own lip, relishing in your familiar warmth as he sheathed himself inside of you entirely. 

Taehyung looked up at his dongsaeng, whose eyes were so trained on the scene in front of him that he looked hypnotized.

“How does she look, Jungkookie?” 

You whimpered, looking back up at the man behind you with wide, desperate eyes. 

“Fuck…she looks so pretty,” Jungkook breathed. His voice was strained, and you glanced down to see him touching himself already. 

“Damn right, she’s pretty, and she’s mine.”

Taehyung snapped his hips up into you, punching the air out of your lungs as his tip knocked into your cervix so easily. He looked so perfect and angry on top of you, his biceps and abdomen rippling as he rocked his hips into yours. The sensation of Jungkook’s one hand pinning your bound hands against the mattress only heightened your senses, the position leaving you open, exposed to the two men on top of you. 

“Sir,” you cried. “You fuck me so well, oh my god.” 

Taehyung gave you a smug smile, his lips tucked between his teeth. He nodded at you, his face mocking you with a pout as you cried at him. 

“Yeah, love? You like the way daddy fucks you, even when you’ve been so disloyal to him?” His voice was low, growling. 

You nodded your head intensely, your vision starting to go blurry with how intensely your body was burning at his touch. You threw your head back, letting Jungkook come into your view. He was hovering over you, watching you so closely with his lip ring tucked between his teeth. You could see his right hand bouncing just below the edge of the mattress, his brows furrowed as he jerked himself off to your demise. 

“Enjoying the view, Koo?” Taehyung grunted, his eyes still locked with your bouncing tits as he fucked you raw. 

“Fuck–yeah, so pretty,” Jungkook groaned, his tongue peeking out to lick his lip. 

Taehyung’s hand suddenly came up, wrapping firmly around the nape of Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook’s head jerked forward, his eyes wide as his boss drilled his eyes into him.

“Kiss her while she takes my cock.” And then he smashed Jungkook’s mouth directly over yours, muffling all your sounds into his driver’s lips.

Jungkook melted into your mouth immediately, a groan immediately escaping his lips as he started kissing your flushed, swollen lips. You opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to swirl inside your mouth hungrily. Your tongues wrestled together feverishly, his cold tongue ring making your brain short-circuit altogether. 

“Oh, Koo,” you whimpered into the kiss. “I’m–close.” Jungkook groaned helplessly at your words, his hand on himself, picking up the pace. 

“Yeah?” Taehyung groaned, his hips still rocking into yours so well. “Wanna cum for me, baby?” 

You nodded, still pinned underneath Jungkook’s mouth. Suddenly, Taehyung’s movements stopped altogether, his cock still buried deep inside you. 

“Gonna need to hear you beg for it then, doll.” Your pussy clenched at the lack of movement, your orgasm still fluttering in your lower core. 

“Fuck, sir, please,” you cried out, still tangled in Jungkook’s tongue. “Please, please, please.” 

“Please, what?” Taehyung tutted, slowly rolling his hips into yours at a torturous pace, just enough to keep you engaged. “Come on, baby, earn it.” 

You whimpered, lifting your hips desperately off the bed, but Taehyung’s firm hand came down to hold you steady. 

“No. With your words, you little whore,” he gnarled. “Tell Jungkook what you want me to do to you, hm?” 

Jungkook’s eyes were closed, lost in your mouth as he pleasured himself at how desperate you were being tortured. 

“Koo,” you whined into his mouth. “I want–want Sir to keep fucking me until I cum.” 

Jungkook groaned at your filthy words, nodding against your mouth with a hum. 

“Tell him again. Tell him how badly you love my cock, and nobody else’s.” Taehyung’s hand was still pinned on your hip; his fingers were certain to leave a bruise on your hipbone. 

“Please, Koo. Make him fuck me. I want–want him to keep fucking me until I get to finish. Please, please. I need him to fuck me so–badly,” you were practically sobbing with need, your hands still bound and stuck underneath Jungkook’s body. 

“Mm, she sounds pretty damn desperate, T,” Jungkook murmured into your mouth before lifting his head, locking eyes with his boss. “She’s begging so pathetically for you.” 

“Is she? Didn’t hear her too clearly.” Taehyung picked up the pace slightly, enough for you to feel the dull hammer of his cock into your cervix, making you whine again. 

“Sir, please. I’ve been so bad to you, but I need you so bad. Need you to put me in my place. Please, please. Let me cum. I need it so badly, daddy, please.” 

If Taehyung were a jaguar, he would have already eaten you clean off the bone. 

A low, animalistic groan came from deep within his chest as you activated him again. Without missing a beat, Taehyung began fucking you again, hard, fast, deep. You cried out in pleasure, your legs tensing up at how well he was fucking you again. 

“Need to cum, baby?” 

“Ye-yes,” you babbled, your consciousness being entirely consumed by the intoxication of being impaled on his twitching cock. 

You felt your orgasm build up, consistently, burning in your stomach and thighs as Taehyung gave you exactly what you needed. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight around me. So close, aren’t you, bunny?” 

You nodded, unable to form words now. You felt yourself begin to split, crack as your head fell aimlessly against the mattress, eyes fluttering closed. 

“Oh–my–god,” you stuttered, each hit of Taehyung’s cock inside of you making you slump further and further into the bed. 

“Fuck! Fuck–” Your orgasm consumed all of your body and soul, every part of you electrifying as you arched your back off the bed, your legs tensed up entirely as your vision blanked out. 

Taehyung slipped out of you almost immediately, and somewhere between the ringing in your ears, you heard a sharp snap of his fingers. And suddenly, the sensation of Taehyung’s cock was immediately replaced with a soft, warm wet tongue, decorated with a cool metal stud, pressed against your clit. 

A scream tore from your throat, and you lifted your head desperately to confirm with your eyes what your body was feeling. Between your legs, Jungkook was now kneeling before you, his eyes dark and trained on you as he lapped you up through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Oh my god,” you hissed, eyes squeezing shut at the sensation. 

“Better prove yourself, Koo; this will be the only time you’ll get to taste her.” Taehyung’s voice was teasing, dripping with cockiness as he stood off to the side, his hard cock bouncing against his taut abdomen.

And something about Taehyung’s words kicked Jungkook into gear. He began to lick you out, his little tongue stud dragging against you so deliciously. You had barely overcome your previous orgasm, and this new level of stimulation was already making your toes curl again. Your eyes were locked with Jungkook’s, his darkened gaze on you, captivating you so easily. Unlike Taehyung’s tiger eyes, Jungkook looked at you with wide eyes, hungry, eager, like a young man who wasn’t willing to waste his only chance with you. 

And he wasn’t going to waste his one shot. 

Jungkook felt a dam inside of him crack; all his reservations about being too friendly around you, all his attempts at shaking you out of his head, all of it came pouring out of him now. He wasn’t afraid to prove to you now that he wanted you and that he hadn’t stopped thinking about you since the night you let him stumble into your apartment. 

You risked your life just to jizz your pants? Taehyung’s voice rang in his ear. 

No, he fucking didn’t. He was here now, on his knees in front of you, hungry to get you exactly how he wanted you, coming apart on his tongue and his favourite little piece of jewelry.

He bobbed and tilted his head against your trembling heat, his eyes never leaving yours as he flicked his tongue expertly against your tongue, knowing exactly what his jewelry was doing to you. 

“Oh, Jungkook,” you whimpered, your eyes fluttering as you struggled to hold his gaze. “You feel so good.” 

Taehyung was leaning against the wall, fucking his own hand at the sight of his pretty doll being served by his employee. 

Jungkook was moaning desperately and loudly, enjoying your taste almost as much as you were enjoying his tongue ring. He rocked his face into yours enough to shake the bed, his neglected cock bouncing desperately against his abdomen. He kept both hands on you, though, gripping your thighs intently as he buried his face and tongue deeper into you. 

You squirmed under his touch, the overstimulation shifting inside of you until you felt a familiar fire begin to build up again. 

“Oh, fuck,” you stuttered, feeling your coil begin to wind tight again. “Jungkook–please.” 

He nodded against your heat, eyes still locked on your reactions and how pretty you were falling apart under his touch, and his touch alone. 

Your eyes widened as Jungkook picked up the speed on your clit, his jewelry twinkling in the light. His expression mirrored yours, his brow raising as he watched your face grow more desperate, more urgent as you felt a second orgasm creep into your skin. He wasn’t consuming you for your pleasure; no, his wide eyes told you that he was getting himself off on the taste of you alone. 

“Jungko–” you interrupted yourself with a wail, your second orgasm hitting you already so easily, with how well Jungkook’s tongue worked against your skin. 

“That’s it,” Taehyung groaned, eyes still trained on your body twisting and contorting to your second orgasm of the night. 

You tossed helplessly on the bed as Jungkook held his pace, his tongue dipping into your pussy, desperate to taste the climax that was dripping out of you. Once he was satisfied with how desperately you were whining and gripping the bed sheets, he came up, hovering over your face, kissing you hungrily. 

“Waited for this for a while,” he whispered into your mouth, just loud enough for only you to hear. You felt your cheeks flush deeper, and he smiled and hummed into your mouth as he tangled his tongue with yours again, the faint taste of yourself on his piercing making your thighs squeeze together again. 

“That’s enough.” Taehyung’s voice came from somewhere far away, but you were so lost in Jungkook’s tongue and taste that neither of you pulled away for a moment. Jungkook was testing the waters, determined to taste you for a second longer if he could.

“JK.” Taehyung’s voice cut through the silence again. 

Jungkook pulled away, a string of saliva draping between you two before snapping. You collapsed on the bed, your body spent from the two back-to-back orgasms that were milked out of you. 

“Not quite done, love,” Taehyung cooed, rounding the bed again. He lifted you and flipped you onto your knees again. Your legs were already so wobbly, but you held still as he wanted, propping yourself up on your hands and knees again. Taehyung was standing over you, inches away from your face, while Jungkook was still parked by your lower half on the other side of the bed, wiping up his chin with the back of his hand. 

Taehyung lifted you to rise onto your knees with one hand, his other hand still working himself lazily. He pried your mouth open with one hand, spitting into your mouth, before closing his lips over yours. His strong jaw guided yours along his as he took control of the kiss instantly, fucking his tongue and spit into your mouth.

“You wanted to fuck around with two of us, so now you get to take two loads tonight, hm, angel? Doesn’t that sound fair?” 

“Jesus, T,” Jungkook muttered.

“Don’t worry about her; she can handle it. Can’t you, bunny?” 

You nodded intensely, your eyes sleepy, but begging for Taehyung to use your body how he wanted. He released your jaw, letting you drop back to your knees in front of him, ready and waiting for him to use you.

“That’s my girl.”

Jungkook lined himself up at your entrance, still moving with uncertainty as Taehyung already began to enjoy himself in your mouth.

“This whole time I thought she was a sweet little neighbour girl who lived below me,” Taehyung murmured. “Turns out she’s a dirty fucking whore.”

Taehyung’s hand came down to pet your cheek so affectionately as he pressed his cock deeper into your mouth, the juxtaposition making your mouth water.

“I guess we were both hiding our real selves from each other for a while, hm?”

Jungkook hesitated for a moment, but he held your hips steady, pressing him deeper into your already twitching pussy. His cock piercing dragged against your inner wall as he entered you fully, sending a chill up your spine. 

“Shit,” Jungkook faltered, his head falling forward. “She’s real tight.” 

“Let her have it, Koo. She’s a good girl; she’ll take anything you give her.”

Jungkook began to rock his hips into yours, slowly at first, but as he got lost in the warm, intoxicating stretch of your desperate pussy around him, all hesitation began to dissolve. He picked up the pace, his piercing scraping you so delicious from the inside out. 

You were muffled, choked out on Taehyung’s cock, unable to scream the way you needed to, and your sounds came out silenced against his length, every potential sound opening up your throat wider for him to fuck your mouth. 

“Fuck, you’re so good to me,” Taehyung groaned, his hand still caressing your cheek sweetly as he fucked your face like you were a whore. His V-line and abdomen were flexed perfectly in front of your face, the sweat beading on his athletic, toned abdomen driving you crazy. 

Jungkook held you tightly by the hips, pulling you deeper and further onto him as he impaled you with his length, his brows furrowed into an angry expression as he took from you what he wanted. 

“Mmph,” you whimpered, unable to make any further noise against Taehyung’s length. 

You felt tears build up in your eyes at the intensity, every fuck of Jungkook’s body against your hips rocking you forward against Taehyung’s cock. His length pressed a little further and deeper into your throat with every punishing rut of Jungkook’s hips. 

Jungkook was already so close, the tightness of you around him, combined with his eagerness to see you like this, stirring up his insides so easily. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, his bangs wet and sticking to his forehead, and he flicked his hair out of his eyes with a toss of his head. “Gonna lose it.” 

“Yeah,” Taehyung growled above you. “She tends to do that to you.” His hand never left your cheek, holding you steady in his hands as he enjoyed your mouth. 

“Want me to cum in this sweet little mouth?” 

You nodded, peeking your tongue out to lick a stripe up the base of Taehyung’s length, coaxing him further into your mouth. He threw his head back, eyes rolling back into his head. 

“That’s my girl,” he moaned, rocking his hips against your mouth a little more purposefully now, each slide of his cock against your tongue pulling another strangled groan from him. “Fuck.”

His eyes squeezed shut as Taehyung spilled inside of your throat with a low groan, his semen piping you full like a twinkie. He pulled his cock out of his mouth, letting the remaining few spurts paint erotically across your mouth and drip off of your lips. You blinked up at him innocently, letting the white drips of his pleasure trickle down your chin so deliciously. Jungkook was still behind you, containing himself just barely as he waited for Taehyung’s permission to finish inside of you. 

“Turn around, baby. Show Jungkookie what you look like, all ruined for me.” 

You turned your head, catching eyes with Jungkook, his eyes peeling open from his trance to see you, messy-haired, lips glistening with Taehyung’s climax painted on your mouth and chin.

And he lost it.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum–” Jungkook stuttered, his hips faltering already. 

“Let her have it, Koo,” Taehyung said with a low laugh, his hand tangling itself in your hair as he held you steady while his friend fucked you until completion. 

Jungkook dropped his head forward, wincing at the pleasure, his climax overtaking his whole body. He fucked himself deeper into you desperately as he felt himself paint your inner walls with his own orgasm, the feeling consuming him in all ways but physical. 

“Shit, fuck,” Jungkook hissed, his teeth biting so deep into his lower lip that he drew blood. “So-s’good, fuck.” 

You whined as Jungkook rode out his high, your body breaking down with every rut of hips into your ass. 

Finally, Jungkook pulled out with a messy, wet sound, and you collapsed onto the bed, your body quivering from the extended treatment. Jungkook toppled backwards, collapsing against the wall, his chest panting heavily as he tried to regain his composure. The sight of you, dripping with his cum from your shaking pussy, the image was burned into his mind. 

Jungkook would never ask for anything from Taehyung ever again.

Taehyung ran his hands through his hair, leaning over the bed to collect a few tissues before wiping himself up, and handing Jungkook a few tissues to clean himself up as well, before Taehyung disappeared out the bedroom door. 

For a moment, it was just Jungkook and you, panting together in the silence of Taehyung’s bedroom. Jungkook was still leaning against the wall behind you, his chest heaving as he cleaned himself up. His eyes were softer now, watching you with curiosity, and a looming wash of guilt and satisfaction washed over him.

Taehyung returned with a warm washcloth, dropping to one knee in front of you, wiping your face clean before moving on to the rest of your body.  Jungkook tugged his jeans and boxers back on. 

“Water bottle’s in the fridge,” Taehyung murmured to Jungkook. He nodded and slipped out of the room with a nod. 

Slumber pulled at your limbs almost right away. 

“You did so well, bunny,” Taehyung murmured, pressing soft kisses to your skin as he wiped you all the way clean. You stirred under him, a soft smile barely on your face as the exhaustion took over your body. 

Jungkook returned moments later, fully dressed again and carrying a water bottle. Taehyung cracked it open and put it up against your mouth, letting you take a sip to soothe your throat before drinking from it himself. 

You hummed in appreciation before Taehyung carefully picked you up, placing you properly aligned on the bed, folding the blanket over you. He pressed a soft hand against your head, petting you slowly as you drifted off to sleep. 

Your eyes were already closed when you heard the bedroom door click shut. 

Taehyung leaned against his kitchen counter, back in his jeans, but still shirtless, still sipping on the water bottle. Jungkook tossed his jacket over his shoulders, his bike helmet balanced under his arm once again. 

“Make sure to check on San’s guy when you head over tonight.”

“Mm. I will,” Jungkook said with a nod.

“And if he sounds even the slightest bit unconfident about handling this little hiccup on his own, let him know that I will step in.” 

Jungkook nodded before opening the door to leave.

“Hey, uh,” Jungkook turned his head back towards Taehyung, standing in the open doorway. “You can tell me to go fuck myself. For everything.”

Taehyung stared at his dongsaeng, standing in front of him with his tail between his legs, and all he could see was the teenager that he had met all those years ago. Jungkook’s expression was clear: he was ashamed, embarrassed about losing his self-control so easily when he was never the type of person to falter. He let out a small scoff, shaking his head. 

“You can spend the rest of your life wallowing in your own self-pity; I don’t care. As long as we’re on the same page. She’s asleep in my bed, isn’t she? I didn’t ask her to stay. She comes to me on her own. Doesn’t matter what I tell you now.” 

Jungkook nodded a little, biting his lip. 

“Just uh, make sure she knows you want it that way, yeah? She, uh, made it sound like she just waits for you to want her around before she crawls back.”

Taehyung raised his brow, a tick of anger returning to his face. Jungkook caught on immediately and lowered his eyes to the floor. 

“I mean, I don’t know her at all. Whatever. I just…I’m just telling you what she told me. She waits around for you to call her. It must be confusing for someone so young like her.” 

Taehyung’s jaw unclenched a little, his expression softening in the dim light. He would never let Jungkook know, but he knew that this was true.  

“Get the fuck out of here, JK.” His tone was flat, quiet, but his command was clear. 

“Right.” Jungkook cleared his throat before stepping into the hallway. “Night, boss.” 

Taehyung hummed as he clicked the door quietly behind Jungkook.

He glanced over at the bedroom door before heading into the kitchen, clicking the kettle on. The water gently hummed to a boil as he returned to the couch, picking up his almost finished copy of Eleven Steps, letting himself rest for what felt like the first time in two days. 

You suddenly jolted awake, the room dark and unfamiliar around you. The bedroom door was slightly ajar, the warm glow of the living room lamp giving just enough light for you to make out your surroundings barely. You were in Taehyung’s bed, tucked in, your neck and the back of your legs propped up by a pillow each. You were so comfortable, and the image of Taehyung tucking you in and making sure you were comfortable sent a stir of butterflies in your chest. 

You were about to untangle yourself from his sheets when the door suddenly cracked open, a tall, shirtless Taehyung entering the room in the dim light, carrying a mug and his book folded up under his arm. 

“Oh, you’re awake.” His voice was soft and warm, with a little bit of surprise on the tip of his tongue. 

“I just woke up,” you whispered, your voice still feeling dry and frail. 

Taehyung took a seat on the side of the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight. He gently clicked the tableside lamp on, brought the mug to you, and your hands came out to accept it immediately. 

“It’s a chrysanthemum tea with some honey. Your throat feels okay?” 

You weren’t sure what time it was; it was dark out, but Taehyung’s voice still sounded smooth as nectar.

The tea soothed your throat immediately, the little wilted petals in the tea tickling your throat as you swallowed. Your eyes unintentionally fluttered closed at the sensation, and Taehyung watched you quietly as you took another sip. 

You glanced over at the book that he had set down on the nightstand, the same book that he was reading before. You noticed that his little bookmark was tucked into one of the last pages of the novel. 

“You finished it.” 

Taehyung glanced over at the book, the spine bent open now, and pages fanned out from being read so intently. 

“Yeah.” 

A warm silence settled in the gaps between you two, the glow of the little lamp casting stretching shadows across the walls of the two of you. You sat up a little, resting the mug in your lap.

“What did you think of the book?” 

Taehyung’s eyes met yours, his asymmetrical eyes hazy and sleepy as he took you in. 

“I…loved it.” 

You nodded with a small smile, urging him to continue, and your hand slipped out from under the blanket to take his. His eyes darted to your movement, and he held his hand still as you cupped over his, petting him gently.

“The author talked about searching for relationship and transcendence, delving into the meaning of a personal, everyday existence, hardship, and the difficulties and complexities of human connection. Something about that part was so…it made me think. A lot. Human connection is…damn near impossible it seems.” 

Taehyung’s face looked fractured with pain from his past, but he swallowed, and that crack had sealed. You hummed, tracing lazy circles around his hand as you listened intently.

“He went into detail about how confronting and overcoming uncomfortable knowledge is the catalyst for self-growth. How learning to uproot your past beliefs can help set you free, to enjoy the rest of your life as a truer version of yourself.” 

“That sounds like great advice,” you murmured, still staring at his hands. “Do you think so?”

Taehyung’s eyes were wide and innocent as he watched you fidget with his fingers as you listened to him talk. He was grateful that you weren’t looking up at his face because he caught himself getting emotional at the sight of you. His lips parted slightly, the emotion in his chest uncontrollable and weakened by your softness. He took a beat before he replied to you.

“I like the sound of it, in theory. It’s always easier said than done. Sometimes I feel like I read these books for the hope, just to remember how…difficult it is to execute for someone like me.” 

You looked up from his hands, his eyes already stuck on you. You were sure it was the dim lighting playing tricks on your eyes, but his eyes looked wet, like he was fighting back tears. Taehyung held your gaze for just a moment before he looked back down at where you were still fidgeting, holding with his fingers in your hand.

“You’re capable of making change for yourself. Whatever it might be, a small step into a new direction is already growing,” you whispered, petting his hand. “Growth can start tiny. It’s still growth.” 

Taehyung looked back up at you, giving you a small smile, his cheek dimpling ever so slightly. You felt yourself blush and looked back down into your mug.

You took another few sips and finished half the tea before passing it back to Taehyung, and he held it in his one large hand as he adjusted your pillow behind you.

“I’ve been thinking about my whole inner world, you know, like in the book.” 

You said nothing, but gave a small nod. 

“I think I’d consider you a part of that. A part of my inner world.” 

You looked up at him, a mixture of flattery, heartbreak and exhaustion in your eyes. 

“Your inner world feels like jail sometimes.” Taehyung looked up at you, hurt and confused at your words. “I feel like you just keep me in a snow globe, shaking me every once in a while so I can keep you entertained.” 

Taehyung clenched his jaw, his eyes dropping to the blanket. You shuffled a little under the blanket, moving to reach for your phone on the nightstand.

“You can stay the night,” Taehyung murmured, resting the mug on the nightstand. 

You tugged the blanket up a little higher to cover your bare chest, folding your arms over the duvet to hold it in place. 

“I…I should go,” you whispered. “I have work tomorrow.” 

Taehyung tilted his head ever so slightly to one side, his gaze studying your face carefully. 

“You have to work tomorrow.” He repeated, quietly. 

“Yes, Taehyung.” 

He frowned, but he said nothing, urging you to speak more.

“I can’t…I can’t just keep abandoning my life for you whenever you want me to; it’s not healthy for me. I need to work to survive,” you continued, your arms still crossed over your chest.

“Abandoning. So, I’m not a part of your life.” 

“Tae, that’s…so unfair. You won’t let me in yours.” 

He didn’t say anything for a moment. When he opened his mouth, his words came out calm, careful.

“I…like keeping you around me. You make me feel like my life is…” he caught himself before he said anything further. “You just feel safe. Like spending time with you comes with a promise of a good day.” 

You looked away from him, brushing your hair out of your eyes. Your expression was unreadable, but you bit your lower lip.

“I’m glad that I do that for you, Tae, but what about me? What stability do I get from you in return? What promise do I ever receive from you?” 

Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, shaking his head slightly. 

“You know this; I told you. It’s complicated–”

“Actually, no, you couldn’t even admit to me that much. You won’t even talk to me when I ask. And I can’t just guess. Guessing how you really felt about me made me think this was going somewhere, that you really cared about me,” you murmured. Your words were confident, but you whispered anyway. 

Taehyung held his tongue. 

“I know how you feel about me, Taehyung; you’ve made it abundantly clear. You keep me around to entertain you, give you some sort of security blanket, but as you said, this isn’t a love story between us. And I’m trying–no, I’m fighting to remember that. For my own sake.” 

“You knew this was going to be the deal on day one,” Taehyung said, his eyes hidden behind his hair in the shadowy room.

You scoffed quietly, arms still pinched across your chest.

“Why me, Tae? Like, yes, I know I fucked up by walking in on your scary meeting that day, but I don’t understand why you have to play with my sanity too. Why can’t you prey on someone more stable, who doesn’t live check-to-check, someone who didn’t already have such a big crush on you?” 

Taehyung’s eyes suddenly sharpened, a flash of sternness dancing across his face.

“You liking me from before isn’t my problem. You didn’t even know me. It’s not my fault you had a crush on the image you projected of me.” 

You bit your lip, fighting back tears. 

“Yeah. I realize now that you’re not the type of man I had hoped you’d be.” You let your bitter words sting, annunciating your words clearly to sharpen every stab into his chest.

Taehyung felt his chest tighten at your words, his hurt simmering into anger. 

“I hate that you made me care about you,” you murmured. “I could have gone my whole life not knowing more about you, and it would have tugged at me a little, but seeing you up close, piece by piece, it’s too hard.”

“Okay. So I’m not the man you had hoped for. Now what?” Taehyung’s voice was raised now, not enough to scare you- he made sure not to scare you, but enough to assert his anger in his words.

“I shattered your fantasy of me. You want to leave? Then try to go,” he snapped. “You wanna run to Jungkook? To the arms of someone else? Fucking try it then.” 

You bit your cheek, the tears building up hard and fast. 

“I don’t feel this way because of someone else. I don’t want someone else.”

Taehyung’s hand was gripping the blanket tightly, the veins in his arms protruding. He was struggling to maintain his composure now; the mask crumbled by his feet.

“You want to live a normal fucking life? Fuck you, so do I. It’s not that easy. It’s not just a snap of a finger, and suddenly the consequences of your actions get to disappear like that. You made a fucking mistake, and now you live with the consequences.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your lip quivering as the first few tears began to fall from your eyes. Taehyung let your tears fall; he was too upset now.

“Yeah, I’ve screwed myself up for the rest of my life. Made a stupid fucking decision at eighteen, and it never got easier for me. There are people all over the country who want me fucking dead. You think I don’t think about that every fucking day of my life? You think I don’t feel this–” he tapped his chest with his other hand, “--this deep, writhing pain of never getting to have a wife and children for the rest of my life?” 

His breath was shakier now, but his words came out strong. 

“You went upstairs that night, you decided to let me claim you, you are the one who treats me with such delicate care that I can’t even keep my head on damn straight, you are the one who brought on all these mind-numbing feelings back to my head like I’m a damn kid again.”

You looked up at him, his eyes piercing through you with such raw emotion that you had never seen before. 

“And you are the one who fucked around with my fucking driver.” 

The tears were falling from your cheeks in fat streams now. 

“Taehyung, I’m sorry, okay?!” Your voice exploded from your chest, coming out much louder than you had anticipated. Taehyung’s eyes were angry, trained on you as you cried. 

“I’m fucking sorry. I’m sorry that I went to Jungkook when I was feeling abandoned; I’m sorry that he was the one who happened to be there when I realized that this wasn’t going to go anywhere between us. I’m sorry that I liked you enough to try to feed you when you told me you were going to have to skip dinner.

I’m sorry that I was drawn to you as a stranger, that I fell for the fucking persona of a kind, sweet man that you put on towards me ever since I moved here. I’m sorry that I liked you enough to let you mark your fucking territory on me. And I’m sorry that my affection towards you makes you feel confused and scared and weak. But if you’re someone who needs to remain hardened and tough and scary for the rest of your life, so badly that you’re willing to hold me hostage instead of admitting that maybe you care about me more than you’re willing to face, then I don’t know what else to say to you.” 

Taehyung closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. 

“Look, I’ve…been down this road before. Letting myself fall in love while doing this job.” 

Your heart clenched hard at what he had just said. Letting himself fall in love. Your chest was still rising and falling rapidly with how upset you were, but you let Taehyung speak. 

“I got so distracted last time, lost sight of the goal, of how the world operated around me, and I ended up causing harm to both her and me. And I just…can’t let that happen to anyone else around me ever again.”

You sniffed, eyes red and swollen as you gathered your breath to speak. 

“Okay. So don’t let it happen again. If you want…want love, you need to give it.” 

“I’m trying.” he dragged his one hand over his face, the exhaustion setting into his demeanour. “I…want to. But it’s not just…it’s not easy. At all. The men I work with, the men who look at you, who would do anything to see me falter. I can’t put you in harm’s way like that. I can’t have another man reaching out to take you from me. Nobody else can have you.” 

You leaned back against the pillows now, slowly blinking at the ground as you felt your eyelids puffy and tight from the crying. Taehyung came up to wipe a tear from your cheek with his thumb, his voice softening all the way again.

“But it doesn’t change how I feel about you, bunny. I do, I want you.” 

“You don’t want me,” you said with a breathless gasp. “You just don’t want anyone else to have me.” 

Taehyung cupped your face in both hands now, gentle enough not to move you, but holding you in his hands delicately. 

“No, I swear to you, that isn’t it. I go crazy when I see you. When you show up and make me dinner, when you lean yourself on my chest, when you ask me how my day went. I–you drive me crazy.” 

You closed your eyes, letting yourself continue to cry silently into Taehyung’s hands as he held you. 

“I want–fuck–I want this, I want you, Y/N. I do. I’m not…confident in myself that I can treat you how you deserve while I do what I do, but I…I want to try.”

You stopped sniffling and looked up at him. The room suddenly fell silent

“I want to try,” Taehyung repeated.

You stared at him through watery eyes, and your hand came up to hold his wrist, still gripped desperately on your cheek.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” Taehyung murmured. “You deserve the world. You do, and I know that you do. I…want to give it to you. Piece by piece.”

Taehyung stroked his thumb over your cheek gently. 

“Tae,” you whispered. 

“I won’t hold my feelings back for you anymore. I’ll…I won’t lie to you anymore. I swear to you. Nothing.”

Your heart swelled with emotion, different than before. You nodded softly at his words, and seeing the approval on your face sent an intense wave of relief and emotion through his body, enough to make the skin on his arms pinprick into goosebumps. 

“I’ll take care of you, I promise, bunny,” he whispered as he leaned in to kiss you gently, his hands still parked on either side of your face. “I promise.”

And for a long stretch of silence, you two just sat there in bed, kissing each other with all the pent-up emotion that was building up inside you from the first day that he got you alone. You felt yourself melt into his hands, every square centimetre of your skin burning under his touch. Every graze of skin on skin felt different now, heavier, like there was real emotion behind it and not just the artificial weight of two lonely people. Taehyung held you in his hands like he was afraid to let you go, each kiss pulling apart in a chest-fluttering sound, like taking a bite out of a soft peach. 

He wasn’t going to let you disappear now.

“Please, stay the night,” he whispered, tracing soft circles on your arms. “Set an alarm, go to work tomorrow. But for tonight, just let me hold you, please?” 

His gentle, quiet begging sent a firework of emotion through your body. 

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I’ll stay.” 

He gave you a soft, earnest smile before rounding the bed to crawl into bed next to you, reaching over you to switch off the lamp. He draped his arm over you, pulling you into his side with the desperation of a man who wasn’t careful enough before. Like he was making sure that every touch was different, new. 

“My sweet girl,” he murmured. “Sleep well.” 

You rolled over, letting his warm arm hold you steady, safe against his bare chest. His words from tonight stirred in your chest, made your heart bloom and blossom in a way that you had been aching for for weeks. 

I won’t lie to you anymore. I swear to you. Nothing.

You settled into his chest, sleep beginning to take over your body. Every part of your body grew increasingly heavy as you disappeared out of consciousness with every rise and fall of Taehyung’s chest beneath you.

Unfortunately, this didn’t apply to any of the lies he had already told you.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

taehyung bossing jk around in a threesome is exactly how i imagine it to go in real life, and i need that so fucking bad!!!!

i listened to "Hate That I Made You Love Me" for a large part of writing the last little section and it hurt bad

Orange juice flies out of your nostrils onto the dining table.

From his position on the couch, Jungkook expectantly eyes you, like he just asked what you want for dinner and not for you to park your pussy on his face at three in the afternoon on a Wednesday.

You cough, sputter, try to remember how to breathe through your nose. “What the fuck?”

“What?” He blinks at you innocently, like he’s confused by your reaction. Like this is some silly little request. How dare you not comply. “I said I want you to sit on my face.”

“I heard you.” Another cough. Grabbing a napkin, you wipe orange juice off your chin with as much dignity as you can muster, which is zero. “It’s the afternoon on a Wednesday.”

“So?”

“So?” You motion with your hands at the world around you. “People have—I don’t know—jobs at this time on a Wednesday. Responsibilities. Client calls.”

“You’re working from home,” he says it like that settles the matter entirely.

“That doesn’t mean I can just—” you choke on your words before choosing an excuse, “I have a meeting at 4!”

“Perfect. That gives us an hour.” He pats his chest with both hands, grinning stupidly. “Plenty of time.”

“Oh my god.”

“What? I’m just saying, I’ve been thinking about it.”

“You’ve been thinking about me sitting on your face,” you repeat slowly. It’s nonsensical. Perhaps the most nonsensical thing since you sold your Louboutins to charity.

“Yeah.” He stretches his arms above his head, shirt riding up to show a sliver of toned abdomen and that goddamn happy trail. “Pretty much nonstop, actually. Ever since the first time we fucked.”

The man has clearly lost his marbles, and you have no problem calling it out. “Jungkook, I can’t just—people don’t just—you can’t just say those kinds of things.”

“Why not?” He tilts his head, genuinely curious. “We’re exclusive.”

And, like, yes, you are. You’re… whatever this is.

It’s been two months since that day at Jeon’s Auto Repair. Two months of the best sex of your life, terrible horror movie marathons in his cramped apartment, him teaching you how to check your oil (you still don’t know how to check your oil, you were too busy staring at his biceps), you forcing him to try overpriced restaurants in the next town over that he always insists are “whatever” but then orders three desserts.

Two months of waking up on his futon, or him in your king-sized bed, his toothbrush appearing next to yours in the bathroom (you didn’t ask him to bring it, he just… did), inside jokes and touches and a serene comfort you didn’t know existed outside of stupid Tumblr fanfictions.

You’re not technically dating. A conversation hasn’t even been had. Haven’t defined what this is. You’re just… exclusive. Seeing each other, hooking up regularly. Very regularly.

…Okay, basically daily.

But the unfortunate thing is that you want to be dating him. You want it so badly it actually scares you sometimes. You want to call him your boyfriend. Want to change his contact name from “the Jeon Auto Repair guy” (which you still haven’t changed because you think it’s funny) to something idiotic and couple-y with heart emojis.

The problem is, you have no idea if he wants that too. He’s never brought it up nor asked “what are we?” You guess he could be happy with this. Maybe he doesn’t want the label. Maybe you’re more invested than he is and you’re about to make a fool of yourself.

Last week, you informed your father that you were extending your stay in Namhae indefinitely and you’d work remotely. You had droned on and on about how you were feeling so much better, so much less stressed, that this is exactly what you needed.

He’d called it a miracle.

Actually called it a miracle, like you’d been touched by the hand of god himself. “Oh, this is wonderful! I knew the fresh air would do you good! You sound so happy, so relaxed!” The poor man had gone on for 15 minutes about how he was right, how he knew getting out of Seoul was what you needed, how maybe you should consider making this permanent, how your complexion probably looks amazing now that you’re eating fresh vegetables and doing morning yoga or whatever he assumes people do in remote towns.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that:

a) you have not ingested a vegetable in three days

b) the only morning exercise you’re getting is riding your not-boyfriend-but-kind-of-boyfriend mechanic until you both see stars

c) your “glow” is not from fresh air but from orgasms. Multiple orgasms. (Sometimes four or five a day.)

Your poor, oblivious father thinks you’re in Namhae doing sunrise meditation and drinking green smoothies. Meanwhile, you’re in Namhae getting your back blown out by a man with a lip ring and an obscene number of tattoos who now wants you to sit on his face on a Wednesday and won’t even call himself your boyfriend.

If your father knew the real reason you were staying, he would have a stroke. If he knew the man responsible for his daughter’s miraculous stress reduction lived in a studio apartment with a water stain and made you cum so hard last Tuesday you forgot your own name?

Cardiac arrest. You should just call the morgue now to let them know he’s en route.

All this to say—you’re almost certain you’re falling in love with Jeon Jungkook. Have been for at least three weeks now. You realized it when he drove 40 minutes to bring you soup when you had a cold, then stayed up all night to make sure you were okay, even though you told him it was just a stuffy nose.

Obviously, you haven’t told him. You can’t even get him to define the relationship, you’re sure as hell not going to drop the L-word.

“Hello? Earth to [Y/N]?” Jungkook waves his hand. “You’re doing that thing where you disappear into your head.”

“I have never once done that in my life,” you lie.

“You so. You get this look on your face.” He stands up from the couch, walking over to where you’re still frozen at the dining table, orange juice napkin clutched in one hand. “What are you thinking about?”

Oh, just about the fact that you’ll let me suffocate you with my pussy air but won’t call me your girlfriend.

Instead, you say, “Nothing.”

“Liar.” His hands land on your cheeks. “Tell me.”

“I was just thinking about how my father thinks I’m here living my best wellness influencer life and instead I’m doing this. You, basically.”

He grins. “You mean having incredible sex with… me?”

The pause before “me” is notable. He didn’t say “your boyfriend,” didn’t say “the guy you’re seeing.” Just “me.”

Cool. Cool cool cool. Everything is fine.

“You’re so humble,” you mutter.

“One of my best qualities.” He dips his head, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Along with my oral skills, which, if I remember correctly, you called ‘life changing’ last week.”

Your face flushes. “I was in a post-orgasmic haze, so I was just saying whatever.”

Another kiss, this one right below your ear. “You also said, ‘I think I saw god.’”

You said that amongst various other things. It’s very easy to get lost in the whirlwind that is Jeon Jungkook’s pussy eating skills.

“And ‘if you stop I’ll actually murder you.”

“Okay, I get it.”

“And my personal favorite,” he pulls back to look at you, eyes dancing with adoration, “‘Make me cum again, Koo. Please make me cum—”

You slap your hand over his mouth. “That’s enough walking down memory lane.”

He laughs against your palm, and you can feel his smile, and god, you want to date this man so badly it’s actually pathetic. You want to be his girlfriend. You want him to be your boyfriend. You want to change that stupid contact name and hold his hand in public and not have this weird undefined thing looming over you.

But moments like this where he’s smiling at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, like he can’t believe his luck, make you think maybe he wants that too.

He pulls your hand away from his mouth. “Okay, so facesitting. Please.”

You were never going to win, anyway.

“Yeah, sure, fine, whatever.”

The words barely exit your mouth before he’s moving. His hands are on you, pulling you up from the chair, and then his mouth is on yours, hot and insistent greedy. He walks backward toward your bedroom, lips never leaving yours, and you stumble over your own feet trying to keep up.

“Jungkook—” you gasp between kisses. “My meeting—”

“Fuck the meeting,” he mutters against your mouth, kicking your bedroom door open. “You can tell them your wifi went out.”

He kisses you again, swallowing whatever protest you were about to make. Frankly, none of it matters when Jungkook’s kissing you like this, like he’s been starving for it, like he might actually die if he doesn’t get his mouth on you in the next thirty seconds.

Your legs hit the bed and you fall backward onto the mattress with a soft “oof.” Chest heaving, lips swollen, and he’s standing over you looking like he wants to devour you whole.

“Take off your clothes,” he orders.

“Excuse me?”

“Please,” he adds, fingers already reaching for the hem of your shirt. “Take off your clothes, princess. Let me see you.”

You sit up, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere across the room. Your bra follows—a simple black one, nothing fancy because you weren’t exactly planning to seduce him at 3 PM—and then you wiggle out of your sweatpants and underwear until you’re completely naked on your bed.

Jungkook just stares.

“What?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing,” he breathes. “You’re just—fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

Two months of sleeping together and endless compliments still make you want to hide under the covers.

He strips quickly and then clambers onto your bed. He positions himself against your headboard, then wiggles down until his head is resting on your pillow, looking up at you excitedly.

“C’mere” he says, patting his chest.

You move toward him on your knees, crawling up the bed, but when your body is hovering over his chest and your very wet, very exposed pussy is basically in his face, you freeze.

You bite your lip. “I don’t know about this.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just—” You glance down at him. “What if I, like, suffocate you or something?”

He shrugs. “Princess, that’s the goal.”

“Jungkook!”

“I’m serious.” His hands come up to grip your thighs, trying to pull you closer. “Come on, sit on my face.”

“But what if I’m too heavy?”

“You’re not.”

“Or what if I can’t hold myself up and I actually crush you?”

“Please crush me.”

“What if you can’t breathe and you pass out and I have to explain to the paramedics that I killed you with my vagina?”

“What a way to go,” His expression shifts, eyes going soft and doe-like. “Baby, I promise you’re not going to hurt me. I want this. I want you.”

He doesn’t call you “baby’ that often—usually it’s “princess” or your actual name—but when he does, it makes you feel like you’re actually his.

“Please,” he says again, and his voice is pleading now. “I’ve been thinking about this for weeks. Everytime I’m between your legs I think about what it would be like to have you sitting on my face. Let me taste you like this. Let me make you feel good.”

He can smell the hesitation lingering in the room.

“I’ll tap your thigh if I need air,” he offers. “Three taps, that’s the signal. But I won’t need it because I plan on breathing you in until I pass out happy.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Princess.” His fingers dig into your thighs. “I’m literally begging you. I will get on my knees and beg if that’s what it takes.”

“Okay, okay!” you giggle “Jesus, you’re so dramatic.”

“I don’t playwhen it comes to eating your pussy.”

You position yourself over his face, thighs on either side of his head, and slowly, timidly, lower yourself down. You’re still holding most of your weight on your knees, not fully sitting, and you peer down at him nervously. “You sure I’m not crushing you?”

His response is muffled against your core. “I fucking hope you crush me.”

And then his tongue is on you.

“Oh, Koo.” It’s different like this. The angle and the pressure—everything is more intense. He licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, and the whimper you let out is embarrassing enough for you to slap a hand over your mouth.

His hands grip your hips, pulling you down harder against his face, and you can feel him groan against you. The vibration makes your core shake. He’s too busy burying his face between your legs, tongue circling your clit once, twice, before moving lower to lap at your entrance. You’re already so wet—truthfully have been since he first said he wanted you to sit on his face—and you can hear the obscene sounds of him eating you out, can feel his nose brushing against your clit as his tongue pushes inside you.

“Right there, baby” Your hands fly to his hair, gripping tight at the strands, and he groans again. Apparently he likes that. He likes a lot of kinky things. The little shit.

He alternates between fucking you with his tongue and moving back up to suck your clit into his mouth, and you can’t decide which feels better. It’s hot and wet and overwhelming, and you grind down against his face without meaning to, chasing the pleasure.

“That’s it,” he mutters against you, though you barely hear it. “Ride my face, princess. Take what you need.”

One of his hands leaves your hip to squeeze your ass, while the other slides up your body to palm your breast. His thumb brushes over your pebbled nipple and you cry out, back arching.

Jungkook’s eyes are closed, face buried between your thighs, and he looks utterly blissed out. The man could die happy right here, suffocated by your pussy. His tongue flicks rapidly against your clit and your thighs start to shake. “Koo—I’m-I’m close.”

He doubles down, sucking your clit into his mouth while two of his fingers slide inside you. They curl, finding the spot that makes you see fireworks explode behind your vision, and he pumps them in and out while his tongue continues its assault on your clit. “Fuck-fuck-oh my god—”

Your orgasm builds in your lower stomach, so intense you can barely breathe. Your thighs tremble violently now, clenching around his head, and you’re pretty sure you are crushing him but he doesn’t tap out, doesn’t stop.

“Cum on my face,” he demands,“Wanna taste you, princess

His fingers press hard against your g-spot, tongue flicking one more time and your orgasm rips through you like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Vision whites out, every muscle in your body going taut. Somewhere in the distance, you hear your voice, you’re screaming, your thighs clamped around his head like a vice, gushing all over his face and he’s groaning as if it’s the hottest thing he’s ever experienced.

You’ve never cum this hard in your life. Not even close.

His tongue gentles, licking you softly through it, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm until you’re oversensitive and whimpering. “Okay, okay, too much” you gasp, trying to lift yourself up.

Jungkook helps you, hands on your hips guiding you off his face. You collapse beside him on the bed, and when you look over at him you don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

His face is absolutely drenched. His chin, his lips, his nose, all covered in your arousal. His hair is sticking up at odd angles from where you were pulling it.

“You good?” he asks, smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

You can’t form words. Can’t form thoughts. “What the fuck.”

His grin widens. “Good?”

“The best.”

He laughs, rolling onto his side to face you. “Yeah?”

You exhale shakily. “Jesus Christ, Jungkook.”

“Told you I’d been thinking about it.”

“Apparently you’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“Mmm.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “It was worth the wait.”

He pulls you into his side, one arm wrapping around you. Naturally, you snuggle into him like your body knows exactly where it belongs, head resting on his chest. His deft fingers start tracing patterns on your back. Lazy, meandering lines that make goosebumps rise. Circles, figure-eights, something that might be letters but you can’t quite make out what he’s spelling.

It’s perfect.

“So, uh.” His fingers pause on your back. “About this whole… exclusive thing.”

Your heart stops. “Yeah?”

“I’m shit at this,” he says. “Like, really shit at it. I don’t know the first thing about… feelings or whatever.”

You lift your head to look at him. His jaw is clenched, eyes fixated on the ceiling. “Koo…”

“Just let me get this out, okay?” He takes a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about us a lot. About what we are.”

Your stomach twists into a knot. This is where he tells you he wants to keep things casual, that he’s not looking for anything serious. That you’ve been reading too much into this and you’re nothing but a clown.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“What?”

“I know we said exclusive, and that’s been… it’s been good. Great, even. But I don’t want exclusive. I want…” He looks at you, and vulnerability flashes across his features, swallows his pupils whole. “I want you to be mine. Not just ‘we’re seeing each other’ or whatever the fuck we’ve been calling this. I want to call you my girlfriend. I want… Fuck, I’m bad at this. Am I doing okay?”

“You’re doing fine,” you reply, even though your heart is racing so fast you think it might explode.

“Before I met you, I didn’t even want a girlfriend,” His words come faster now like he needs to get them all out before he loses his nerve. “I thought I didn’t deserve one. I mean, I’m a mechanic living in a shitty studio apartment. I’ve got debt from my dad’s shop, my hands are always covered in grease, and I smell like shit most of the time. Girls like you don’t end up with guys like me.”

Tears brim your lashes. “Jungkook, it’s not like that.”

He barrels on. “But then you showed up in that fucking Range Rover, all prissy and spoiled and so goddamn beautiful I couldn’t think straight. At first, I thought, okay, this is just physical. It’s sex. She’ll get bored eventually and go back to Seoul and I’ll have a good memory.”

Your throat feels tight. You want to say that he’s everything, that you don’t need fancy things. You just want Jeon Jungkook, your stupid mechanic with boba eyes and a smile that melts your insides.

“But you didn’t leave. You stayed. And then it wasn’t just sex anymore. It was watching shitty movies on my futon and you making fun of my truck and me teaching you to make ramyeon because apparently you don’t know how to cook anything that doesn’t come from a Michelin star restaurant.”

You frown. “Hey, I’ve gotten a lot better.”

“Baby.” He gives you a warning look, and you roll your eyes. “My point is… you stayed. I started thinking about you all the time. When I’m working on cars, I’m thinking about you. When I’m trying to sleep, I’m thinking about you. When I wake up and you’re not there, I miss you. That’s not something I’ve ever felt before.”

You’re going to cry. You’re actually going to cry, naked in your bed while your not-boyfriend-but-maybe-about-to-be-boyfriend pours his heart into your palms.

“I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend,” he admits. “I’m gonna fuck it up sometimes. I’m gonna be grumpy and stubborn and I’m probably gonna forget important dates because I’m shit with that stuff.” He cups your face with his hand, thumb stroking your cheek. “I want to try with you. If you want that.”

“If I want that?” Your voice comes out choked. You feel a sob climb up your throat. “Jungkook, I’ve wanted that for weeks. God, I’ve been driving myself crazy trying to figure out if you wanted more than just this casual thing, and I was too scared to ask because I didn’t want to scare you away.”

“You couldn’t scare me away if you tried.”

“I’m pretty sure I could. I’m a lot. I’m high-maintenance and spoiled and I get irrationally angry when my coffee order is wrong and I hate when it rains here and loud noises bother me—“

He kisses you. Cuts off your rambling with his mouth on yours, and you can taste yourself on his lips. When he pulls back, he’s smiling. “Is that a yes?”

“To what?”

“To being my girlfriend, princess. Keep up.”

Your heart is so full it might actually burst. “Who knew? The grumpy mechanic has a heart.”

“Shut up.”

“A soft, gooey heart that feels feelings—”

“I’m going to take it back—”

“—and wants a girlfriend—”

“You’re the worst—”

“—and just gave the sweetest speech I’ve ever heard—”

He rolls you onto your back, hovering over you, and there’s that grin you love. “Are you done?”

“Almost.” You reach up, cupping his face. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend, you absolute sap.”

His grin widens. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You pull him down for another kiss. “For the record, you didn’t need the whole speech. You had me at ‘I want you to be mine.’”

“Good to know.” He kisses down your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder. “The speech was pretty good, right? I practiced in the truck on the way over.”

The mental image of him practicing his words in his manly truck makes you giggle. “You practiced?”

“Shut up, I was nervous.”

“Oh my god, you’re so cute.” You pinch his rosy cheek.

“I swear to god, if you call me cute one more time—”

You laugh, threading your fingers through his hair. “What? What are you gonna do about it, boyfriend?”

He groans, head falling into the crook of your shoulder. “Fuck, say that again.”

“What, boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” He kisses down your stomach, heading lower. “I like how that sounds.”

“Well, you better get used to it, because I’m going to use it constantly. I’m going to call you boyfriend in front of everyone. I’m going to change your contact name to ‘boyfriend’ with like a thousand heart emojis. I’m going to tell my father I have a boyfriend—”

He freezes. Looks up at you. “Are you actually going to do that?”

“Do you… want me to?”

“I mean…” He chews on his lip ring anxiously. “Yeah? Eventually? I don’t want to be your secret or whatever.”

“You’re not my secret.” You tug him back up so you can look him in the eye. “I just didn’t want to tell him before we figured out what we were. But now that we’re… official… I’ll tell him. He’s going to have a stroke when he finds out I’m dating my mechanic, but that’s his problem.”

“Your boyfriend mechanic.”

“My boyfriend mechanic,” you correct with a smile. “Who just made me cum so hard I forgot where I was.”

“And who’s about to do it again if you don’t stop looking at me like that.”

You slide your hand down his chest, his stomach. “Maybe I want that.”

His breath hitches when your hand wraps around his cock. He’s still rock hard—has been this whole time, pressed against your thigh, and you’re impressed by his restraint.

He groans when you stroke his length. “We should probably consummate this relationship properly.”

Leaning into his ear, you whisper, “And I think it’s my turn. I owe you, baby.”

Someone shuffled beside you in bed, and a large arm came up around you, trapping you in the pillowy white blanket underneath its weight. You glanced down, a familiar pattern of tattoos inked into the skin of the bicep currently pinning you to the mattress.

Oh right.

You turned your head, coming face to face with a very much still asleep Jungkook. You froze in place, all the memories from last night rushing back to you all at once.

The after-party, the black-suited security guard instructing you to stay put and asking you to wait a little longer, the two heavy stacks of documents you were suddenly handed, and, through shaky eyes, you scribbled and signed before being escorted to a large van with tinted windows.

You blinked a few times, as if to try to prove to yourself that this wasn't a dream. Jungkook's lips were parted slightly, his face soft and relaxed, his stage makeup from the night before still around his eyes and ever so slightly smudged. His hair fell over his face, bangs stuck oddly in different places, his lips full and pouty.

Even when sleeping, this man was devastatingly gorgeous.

You studied his face for a little while, in silent awe of being in his bed. You shuffled a little and rolled onto your side, turning your back to him as his little spoon. You slid yourself back towards him until you were met with his warm, bare chest. Jungkook subconsciously slid his arm down, landing his arm comfortably on the smallest part of your waist. Your heart was pounding at the touch; the only separation between his arm and your very naked body was the duvet that was draped lazily over your torso.

You settled into your new position, still half asleep and comfy, and saw a mess of black and blonde hair from over the little hill in the blanket. You couldn't help but smile to yourself, the giddiness returning in full swing.

The other wildly exciting part of your night.

Taehyung was facing away from you, lying on his stomach, his hair peeking out from above the blanket. His arms were tucked neatly under his pillow, the flex of his biceps so close to you sending a stir to your stomach again.

Maybe if you stayed completely still, they would keep sleeping, and you could stay here forever.

You let yourself drift back to sleep, but your heart was already awake and racing. There was no way you could fall asleep again now. You shuffled a little under the blanket again, curling yourself up into a little ball as you tried to get extra comfy. Then there was some movement on the mattress. Taehyung lifted his head off his pillow, staring off at the wall for a few seconds before turning his head to finally face you.

"Oh, you're awake." He spoke in a low whisper in the dark bedroom; his morning voice was rough and gravelly, but the same silkiness like honey poured through.

You nodded with a soft smile, and he smiled back, reaching his arm over the blanket to pet your chin. You felt yourself flush, the shyness hitting you at full force. You flustered at his touch, and he let out a soft chuckle.

"Does your head hurt?" he whispered, hand still resting gently on your face.

"Not really, I'm a little dizzy," you replied.

"Sit tight. Let me get you some water."

Taehyung sat up in bed, his bare back facing you as he sat on the edge of his side of the bed, stretching his neck side to side before standing up. Your eyes drifted to the tattoo on his lower back, something you never thought you'd be able to see so detailed and up close. You couldn't do anything but stare, still in such shock about how you ended up here.

He walked over to the mini fridge and pulled out a chilled bottle of water before cracking it open and returning to the bed.

"Here."

You nodded your head and thanked him, propping yourself up on your arm so you could take a sip. The icy, cool water was an immediate relief to your dry throat. Taehyung watched you as you took a few sips from the bottle, the water feeling like God's gift to your hungover body right now.

Jungkook stirred behind you, his arm still heavy on your waist. You heard a few quiet, sleepy hums behind you, and you turned your head back to face him, his eyes cracking open slowly.

"Mm," he hummed, eyes blinking slowly as he woke up in phases. His eyes landed on you, tucked safely under his arm and pressed against his warm, bare chest.

"Morning," he said with a lazy smile, before his eyes closed again. He pulled you in a little closer, the comfort of cuddling you lulling him back to sleep.

"Jungkook-ah," Taehyung climbed back into bed, reaching over you to nudge his friend on the shoulder. Jungkook furrowed his brows and lifted his head, eyes open again.

"It's almost nine. Get up."

Jungkook let out a grunt in protest before looking down at you, still cradled in his arms.

"Have fun last night?" he said with a small, sleepy smirk.

You crinkled your nose, turning your face into your pillow to hide your embarrassed smile. Jungkook laughed before planting a kiss on the back of your shoulder.

"I'll take that as a yes."

He sat up and rolled his neck a few times, his broad bare back perfectly chiselled, even in the dark room. You felt your mouth water, your head still resting on the pillow.

Jungkook shuffled down the hall, and a few moments later, the bathroom light flicked on, the door swinging half-closed.

Taehyung was back in bed with you, now lying on his back, still shirtless and only in his sleep shorts. He looked at you with quiet curiosity before opening his arm towards you, patting his chest with his other hand.

You scooted closer to him and rested your head on his chest, his warm, strong arm wrapping around you safely. You nestled yourself deeper into him; the smell of his sweat mixed with the leathery notes of his cologne was enough to drive you crazy.

"Sleep well?" Taehyung mumbled as he traced soft circles on your arm.

"Mhm," you hummed, your hand resting on his chest next to your cheek.

"Good," he replied, giving your arm a quick squeeze.

He tilted you up by the chin, your eyes locking with his, only inches away from each other. You felt everything inside you turn into a puddle at his touch.

"I had a lot of fun last night," he said with a lazy smile. "I hope it wasn't too much for you."

"No, I had fun—it was fun," you said with a smile, fighting the blush from rising to your cheeks.

Taehyung leaned in and brought his lips down on yours, his full, pouting lips electrifying you as he kissed you. You parted your lips involuntarily, and he let out a soft laugh as he deepened the kiss, delicately, sweetly, and not aggressively and dominating like it was last night.

"Mm," you hummed into his mouth, and he smiled into the kiss for a moment before he pushed himself deeper against you, his tongue swiping your lower lip for entry. You let your mouth fall open, granting him access to the inside of your mouth. Taehyung wasn't rushed; he licked your tongue softly first, before darting his tongue in a little deeper, sweeping the inside of your mouth like he was trying to map out the inside of your mouth before you had to leave.

"Tae," you moaned, the sensation of his wet tongue against yours so early in the morning sending a fire directly to your lower core.

"Gonna miss this pretty mouth when we fly out tonight," he murmured into your mouth.

Taehyung lifted you up so that you were practically lying on top of him now, and he pulled away from your lips for a moment, propping his pillow up behind him so he was sitting up a little more, watching you with those hypnotizing eyes.

"Why don't you leave us with one more memory before you have to go?" His tone was lower, dripping with his want for you, his eyes the same as they were last night: dark and commanding.

You bit your lower lip as you slid yourself down his bare torso, landing yourself right at his waist. Taehyung was already hard beneath the fabric of his pyjama shorts, his eyes half-lidded as he watched you intently.

With one hand, you slipped his waistband down, his waiting cock peeking out from the waistband, flushed and already a little glistened from precum.

You were the luckiest girl on earth.

You took him in your mouth, the familiar salty sweetness of his arousal coating your tongue. Taehyung's mouth fell open, his eyes trained on you as you swirled your tongue expertly over the head of his needy cock.

"Mmm, so gorgeous," he moaned as he watched you.

Your head was still spinning a little from the alcohol, but you blinked hard to maintain your focus. Your wet, pouty lips worked his tip as you licked at the soft tendon at the underside of his cock.

Taehyung bucked his hips a little at the sensation you were giving him, his one arm coming up to hold up the back of his head.

"Yeah, just like that."

You dipped your head lower, his cock sinking deeper into your mouth, nudging on the back of your throat. Taehyung let out a deep, breathy moan, his eyes fluttering closed as you slid your mouth up and down his length.

"Fuck," he grunted, before his other hand flew to the back of your head, pushing you further down onto his long, thick cock. "Obsessed with you."

You felt yourself gag a little at the force of his hand on the top of your head, guiding you further and further down his length. He was deep down your throat now, his thickness filling your mouth entirely, knocking your uvula with every bounce. You closed your eyes, focused on pleasing the superstar sprawled out in front of you. You closed your hand into a fist, fighting the tears that threatened to escape your eyes from the intensity of his fullness in your mouth.

Taehyung bobbed you up and down with his guided hand, his hips bucking upwards to let himself feel even more of you, the stretch of your mouth around him driving him crazy.

"So fucking good, hm? Fucking love this mouth," he hissed as he continued fucking your mouth, his satoori bleeding through every anunciation of his words. "Fuck."

"I still feel fucking drunk," Jungkook suddenly turned the corner, reappearing from the bathroom, toothbrush dangling from his mouth.

He stopped in his tracks at the sight of you, naked and on your knees in front of Taehyung, your head being pinned down by his hand as he fucked your mouth like you were his personal little pornstar.

"Huh, so this is what you were doing while I was washing my face," Jungkook scoffed, taking a step closer towards the foot of the bed.

You let out a muffled moan, and Taehyung released his hand from your head, letting you finally catch some air. You pulled off of him with a desperate wet pop, your eyes and lashes wet, your chin already dribbling with saliva. You were panting as you brought your hand up to Taehyung's cock, still determined to please him. You pumped your hand up and down his length firmly, milking him as you caught your breath.

"Hyung, you're so fucking greedy," Jungkook murmured, taking another step towards the bed so that he was only a couple of feet behind you at the foot of the bed.

Jungkook was still shirtless in his gym shorts, and he watched quietly as you continued to please his bandmate, your hand pumping Taehyung's cock with a steady pace, dipping your head back onto the first few inches of his length.

"Ugh, fuck, you're so pretty," Jungkook groaned, palming himself over his shorts now. "Even in the early morning, you're just as much of a giver as you were last night."

"Isn't she such a good girl?" Taehyung looked up at his dongsaeng with a cocky smirk. "Sucking me off for breakfast."

"Mhm," Jungkook replied, his voice low and hungry.

Jungkook pulled the toothbrush from his mouth, wiping his mouth on the abandoned towel on the bench at the foot of the bed.

"Can you handle some more, love?" Jungkook's words were sweet, but the way they came out of his mouth was mean, like he was teasing you.

You popped your mouth off of Taehyung and tossed your hair over your shoulder to look back at Jungkook. You didn't say anything, just gave him a look, that look that got you into this mess in the first place.

He let out half a cocky laugh before he slid his shorts down, undressing himself behind you.

You felt your core burning already, your pussy clenching around the painful nothingness. The cool air of the hotel room felt extra sensitive against your exposed cunt, your ass up in the air from pleasing Taehyung.

"C'mere," Jungkook said with a growl as he reached forward, gripping your hips and yanking you backwards towards him. You let out a giggly yelp at the way he manhandled you.

Jungkook slid his thumb against your pussy, the pad of his thumb parting your folds so easily. You shivered at the sensation, the glide of his finger sending little sparks throughout your whole body.

"Already dripping," he murmured to himself. "Tae, you got her so wet already."

Taehyung let out a laugh, giving Jungkook a cocky half-shrug as he took his own cock into his left hand, pumping himself lazily.

"She has good taste."

Jungkook dipped a finger into you first, the feeling of something, anything inside of you making you gasp. He hummed as he slid another finger into you, before he began to scissor his fingers inside of you, stretching you out.

"Hnng, JK," you hissed, your head dropping forward against the blanket.

"Shh shh," Jungkook said with a smirk. "Just getting you ready for me, baby."

"I think she can handle it already, Koo." Taehyung was watching you, face pressed into the blanket to muffle your moans as he jerked himself off to the view.

The sensation of Jungkook's fingers suddenly went away, before being replaced by the burning, splitting sensation of his cock pressing into you, slowly, inch by inch.

"Ah!" You wailed into the blanket, the soft pillow duvet swallowing any of your cries. "Too-too much."

"You can take it," Taehyung growled, still fucking his hand in front of your face. "You took it so well last night, didn't you, baby?"

You nodded and propped yourself back up properly before arching your back, giving yourself fully to Jungkook as he sank deeper into you, until he was completely sheathed inside of your pussy. The feeling of him filling you completely was shattering your sanity; Jungkook was hung, bigger than any of the boyfriends from your past, and he knew exactly how to use all nine inches of his pretty cock.

"That's it," Jungkook groaned, staying still for a moment as you quaked and clenched around him desperately, trying to get used to the feeling of him again. "Take it. Take all of me, pretty girl."

"F-fuck," you moaned, lifting your head off the bed finally. "God, you feel so good inside of me."

"Love my cock, huh? Wanna take it all for me like a good girl, ah?" Jugnkook's voice was gravelly and low, his Busan accent thick and evident in every sentence as he got lost in the feeling of you, still drunk and sleepy.

"Yes, JK," you whimpered.

He began to set a rhythm, rocking his hips against your ass at a pace that knocked the wind out of your lungs. You let out a cry at the intensity, his length splitting you in half as he fucked you from behind.

Taehyung groaned at the sight of you, falling apart already on Jungkook's cock. You looked up at Taehyung through needy eyes, your brows furrowed and lips pouting as your breath matched the pace of every slam of Jungkook's hips into you.

"Think you can take us both, hm?" Taehyung's accent was thick, his eyes half-lidded as he watched you like a jaguar. "Come here, take this cock too."

You swallowed between gasps before reaching forward, wrapping your hand around Taehyung's girthy size again. He cocked his head to the side as he watched you, his other hand coming up to fluff the back of his hair.

"Come on, princess, don't be shy," Jungkook growled from behind you, still fucking you expertly. "Show us what you can do."

You could barely think straight with how well Jungkook's cock was hitting your g-spot, knocking stars into your vision with every thrust. You shook your head a little before poking your tongue out of your mouth again, enveloping Taehyung in your mouth once more.

"Fuuuck," Taehyung moaned, dropping his head back against his pillow. "You're a gorgeous little cumslut, aren't you?"

You nodded a little as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock again, swallowing every inch of him that you could possibly take. Taehyung's length stretched your mouth out so crudely, and he sneered at you as he watched you struggle to take him all in your mouth.

"Too fucking big for you?" Taehyung groaned, his dialect itching your ears in just the right way. "Dirty girl, you can do it."

You felt like your body was on fire; every part of you felt full, spent, but your head was spinning with how much pleasure you were experiencing. Jungkook was fucking you so well from behind, every thrust of his hips pushing you deeper onto Taehyung's cock.

"Wanna see you fall apart like this on the both of us, honey," Jungkook groaned before dropping his hand down to your pussy, rubbing slow, controlled, firm circles on your clit.

You let out a muffled cry, the sounds dampened against Taehyung's length stuffed in your mouth. He grinned down at you, your mouth so full of him, and his other hand came back down to hold you steady.

You felt like you were going to die, but you already were in heaven.

Your core burned hotter and hotter, the cord inside of you beginning to stretch impossibly tight. Jungkook's tip was knocking against your sensitive spot so perfectly, and you thought you could pass out from the pleasure.

The rhythm of his hips suddenly faltered for a moment, and Jungkook leaned down, fishing his phone out of his shorts that were left abandoned on the floor.

The blanket around you was suddenly illuminated by a phone light, and your eyes widened as you realized Jungkook was filming you, spread open, bent over, and taking him like a pornstar. Humiliation immediately washed over your whole body, and you were sure that if you weren't red in the face before, you definitely were now.

"Jungkook—" you gasped, popping your mouth off of Taehyung for a moment.

"Don't worry, angel, nobody's ever going to see this except me. And Hyung."

Taehyung chuckled, his hand pushing your head back down along him. He gave you a wink, the small gesture sending a surge of adrenaline through your body, and you picked up the pace.

"Ugh fuck, look at her. Performing for the camera."

Jungkook held the camera at arm's length so that he was filming himself fucking you, selfie-style, as you sucked Taehyung off. He threw his head back into the pillow again, his lower lip pinched between his teeth as his abdomen was flexed, his pleasure taking over his whole demeanour.

"Gonna fucking cum in this pretty mouth," Taehyung hissed, brows furrowed as he sat up a little further, his V-line and abdomen on perfect display, glistening with sweat and flexed.

"Sin fucking city," Jungkook said to the camera with a cocky laugh. "Look at her."

Your face burned with embarrassment, but you persisted. Jungkook's fingers were still working your clit, and you were desperately trying not to explode, not to scream out in pleasure.

Taehyung let out a long, pornographic moan as he reached his climax, his warm, desperate spurts hitting you in the back of your throat. Your mouth was suddenly flooded with the salty-sweet taste of him, thick and creamy on your tongue.

"Fuuck-God," Taehyung hissed, his hand pushing you down along his length impossibly deep as he rode out his high. "Horny little slut, taking my load in her pretty mouth."

You dragged your tongue along the underside of his length, all the way up to the top, cleaning him up with your mouth before you drank all of him down. You swallowed with a gasp, your mouth falling open to show Taehyung that you had taken all of him so well, just like he wanted.

Taehyung's hand released from your head to tilt you up to look at him by the chin. You held eye contact with him through teary eyes, still rocking forward on your knees as Jungkook fucked you. Taehyung's eyes were still dark, but his gestures were a little sweeter now, his thumb dragging along your lower lip, wiping up the residual cum dripping from your mouth.

"Pretty girl," he hummed. "Getting me off so well while Koo fucks you from the back."

You let out a whine at Taehyung's gentle hands as Jungkook wrecked you, the two opposite sensations making your head spin.

"Please, please," you begged, your eyes needy and wet as you held Taehyung's gaze. "Feels so-so good, Tae. Gonna—"

"Fuck, she feels so tight around me," Jungkook hissed, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought his own pleasure, his camera still on you.

You were teetering on the edge now, your climax dangerously close. You squeezed your eyes shut, the pleasure manifesting itself in the faces you were making, desperate, vulnerable, and so erotic.

Taehyung's voice broke through your trance.

"Look at me."

Your eyes flew open, Taehyung's hand returning to your chin as he held you up, forcing you to look at him. He was smiling at you, not sweet, but cocky.

"Just wanna remember what you look like as you cum, hm?" Taehyung said with a grin.

That was it.

Your climax ripped through your body, the intensity so strong that your vision went blurry, and you dropped your head to the blanket, as you wailed into the covers. Taehyung lifted your head back up with ease, your eyes rolled back into your head, eyes fluttering, knuckles white as you gripped the bedsheets. You felt a warm rush of liquid escape you, dripping down your thighs and trickling onto the bed with an audible drip.

"Fuck, so sexy," Jungkook hissed, maintaining his mean pace. "Squirting all over me like a dirty whore."

"Tae, too much, he's too much," you sobbed, the pleasure mixing with pain as Jungkook knocked his cock into you, his pace picking up as he neared his climax.

"Shh, you can take it," Taehyung murmured, stroking your cheek. "Take it, doll."

Jungkook let out a low groan through gritted teeth, his phone abandoned on the bed, both his hands gripping you by the hips as he pounded into you continuously.

"Fuck, you squeeze around me so well, gonna fucking cum in this slutty cunt, huh?"

You felt your body go limp, but you stayed on your knees so obediently, letting Jungkook climb to his peak as he fucked you feverishly.

A large hand came down on your ass, giving you a stinging slap. You wailed out, your fingers coming up to intertwine with Taehyung's.

"Fucking perfect girl," Jungkook growled. "Letting me fuck her while Hyung watches. Gonna fucking wreck you, baby."

"Let Jungkook cum in your pretty pussy, baby," Taehyung cooed.

"Fuck-yes, Jung-kook-please," you stuttered, far too drunk off his cock to even think straight. "Please, finish in my tight little pussy, it's all yours, my pussy is yours."

Jungkook let out a low guttural groan as he pressed himself deep into you, up to the hilt. His head dropped forward as he reached his climax.

"Fucking shit," he moaned as you felt his ropes shoot inside of you, jagged and pulsing. Jungkook painted your walls with his pleasure, his breath releasing in short pants and hisses as he fucked himself through his high.

You were entirely spent now, your body was limp and boneless, and you collapsed onto the bed by Taehyung's legs. Jungkook collapsed beside you at the foot of the bed, his length still buried inside of you.

The three of you lay on the bed, sprawled in every direction in silence, the only sound in the room was the panting and heavy breathing from both you and Jungkook. Taehyung's hand came up to pet your hair gently, stroking your head with a soft rub of his thumb.

He reached over for the water bottle he had brought you earlier on the nightstand and uncapped it again, bringing it to your lips. Your eyes fluttered open at the contact with the plastic bottle, and you opened your mouth slightly, allowing Taehyung to bottle feed you sips of water through heavy breaths.

"Good girl," he cooed. "Such a good girl."

Jungkook wrapped his arm around your waist again, holding you in close as his breathing returned to normal. He pressed sweet kisses along your shoulder, your back, your spine.

"Let's get you cleaned up, hm?"

Jungkook gently pulled himself out of you, the mix of your fluids dripping out onto the bedsheets. You covered your face in embarrassment, but Jungkook's hand came up to pull your wrist off.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

The shower turned on with a roar, the water pressure strong and thumping against the glass door already. Steam slowly began to fill the chamber, and Jungkook reached into the shower to test the temperature.

Taehyung was standing behind you, his hands rubbing up and down your arms possessively as he waited for the shower to warm up.

"It's good," Jungkook mumbled as he stepped in, and then turned to face you, his hand reaching out to help you in.

You stepped over the little step of the shower floor, joining Jungkook in the steamy chamber. The scent of eucalyptus and citrus filled your senses, the steam soothing your whole body almost instantly.

Taehyung stepped in behind you before he closed the door, the three of you standing impossibly close together. You were pinched between the two tall, muscular men, both of them facing you as their hands lazily explored your wet body.

"Sweet girl," Taehyung murmured into your ear, planting a kiss on the back of your neck. "Thanks for spending the night."

You nodded, and Jungkook tilted you up to face him with a finger on your chin. He grinned at you, lip ring twinkling under the potlight, before leaning in to press a sweet, soft kiss on your lips.

The two of them reached for the body wash that was mounted on the wall, each pumping twice, before lathering the soap in their hands. Jungkook then opened his hands towards you, his hands immediately gently gripping your breasts in his hand, giving them a soft squeeze as he began to spread the bubbly body wash across your body, massaging you as he cleaned you.

Taehyung followed suit, his hands firmly on your shoulders, massaging the tension out with his soapy hands before spreading the lather across your back, scrubbing gently and thoroughly down the length of your spine. You felt yourself melt at their touch, so intimate and loving.

"Mm, feels good," you sighed, your head dropping back onto Taehyung's shoulder.

"Yeah, she's sleepy," Jungkook said with a chuckle. "I'd be too."

You stood between them as they washed themselves, the scent of the bodywash making your head spin.

When all three of you were perfectly clean again, Taehyung reached around you and turned off the water before reaching out of the shower door to grab a towel. He stepped out first, wrapping the towel around his waist, before grabbing a second and third one, motioning for you to step out of the shower towards him. You did.

Jungkook stepped out of the shower behind you, and Taehyung handed him one of the towels. He wrapped it around his waist tightly before they both turned their focus back to you.

"Arms up," Taehyung said softly, and you lifted your arms over your head.

He wrapped the towel around your torso, tucking it in at the edge so it hung like a dress. Jungkook pressed the towel against your body, helping you dry yourself. Once you were comfortably wrapped up, Jungkook stepped towards the mirror, shaking his wet tendrils of hair around like a puppy dog. He collected another towel from the shelf to dry his hair.

You returned to the bed, sitting on the edge as Taehyung got dressed in front of you. He glanced at the clock on the wall.

10:04am.

"Jungkookie-ah, we gotta go soon."

"Yah," Jungkook called from inside the bathroom.

Taehyung turned back to look at you.

"We have late check out. You can nap here until we come back, if you want."

You were so sleepy, too blissed out to move. You nodded, giving him a weak smile as you let yourself lie back in bed.

Taehyung looked at you with a laugh before coming around the bed again, petting your head gently.

"Sleep well. We'll try to get ready quietly."

You nodded, already feeling half-asleep as you melted back into the pillows and blanket, the cool Egyptian cotton bundling you up so addictively.

You didn't realize you had drifted off to sleep until your eyes snapped open to the sound of a knock at the door.

"That's probably Hobi-hyung," Taehyung murmured, now fully dressed, with a pair of sunglasses sitting on his head, and his backpack over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm ready to go," Jungkook hummed, his hair fluffy and blow-dried, bare-faced and zipped up in a black hoodie.

"It was nice meeting you," Jungkook said, giving you a nod, his hands in his pockets. "Maybe when we're back in Vegas?" He gave you a wink.

You buried your face a little deeper into the blanket, the shyness returning.

"Yeah," you murmured, your mouth breaking into a wide smile.

Jungkook laughed, watching you fumble in your own shyness for a moment, before Taehyung nudged him by the shoulder.

"Come on, let's go," Taehyung urged. "They're all waiting for us."

Taehyung turned back to you with a little smirk.

"See you in a few hours."

And then the door opened and closed with a dull squeak and then a soft click, sealing you into this bubble of them, the twelve-hour whirlwind that you had found yourself in. You let your eyes flutter shut, the lingering smell of sweat and eucalyptus lulling you into what was going to be, possibly, the best sleep of your fucking life.

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i just blacked out and wrote this im missing out on precious sleep and i'm not proofreading it

bitch i need to touch grass!!!! ♡⃛