OT7 You're My Light💜

You met on your first day of preschool. At three years old, you were understandably terrified at the thought of being separated from your mother. Up until that point, she was all you knew. Her and Mrs. Han across the hall, who would watch you when your mom was at work. You liked Mrs. Han. She gave you shrimp chips and banana milk and didn't make you nap unless you wanted to.

But that was it. No living grandparents to dote on you, no father to speak of. Just your mom and Mrs. Han and a routine your three-year-old mind had grown accustomed to. It was easy to feel safe in that tiny, predictable world of home and hallway.

Preschool was unfamiliar. Disruptive to your routine. Preschool meant sitting at a tiny plastic table surrounded by unfamiliar faces and not a single hand you trusted to hold.

So, as you crossed the threshold into what would become your classroom for the coming months, you did what any reasonable toddler would do: you clung to your mother’s leg with a death grip and let loose an eardrum-shattering wail the second she tried to unpeel you.

You screamed so hard your face turned blotchy and red, tears and snot dripping from your chin as you kicked your tiny sneakers against the linoleum. Your teacher tried to coax you with crayons and toys and cheery words, but you weren’t interested. Your mother, guilt painted across her tired face, tried her best to soothe you.

"I’ll be back soon, baby," she said. "You're going to have so much fun, I promise. You won't even notice I'm gone!"

Yeah right, mom! You were inconsolable.

And then, barely audible over the noise of your tantrum, came a quiet voice.

“Your eyeballs are gonna pop out if you keep crying like that, you know.”

Uh, hello?

You blinked, confused and startled into a hiccupy quiet. Slowly, you looked over your shoulder to find a boy a few feet away, holding half of an easy-peel orange in his tiny hand. Unbothered, the boy popped an orange slice into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, studying you.

“Do you like oranges?” he asked.

You nodded, because yeah, you did like oranges.

“Okay,” he said. “You can have the rest of mine if you quit being a baby.”

You sniffled, considered your options, and loosened your grip on your mother’s leg.

“Promise?” you croaked.

He held out the orange like a solemn contract. “Promise.”

You waddled over, still sniffling, and accepted the sticky slices with trembling hands. You didn’t even notice when your mother quietly slipped out the door.

The boy led you to a huge bean bag chair in the reading corner, where he proceeded to show you how to build a tower out of alphabet blocks. He was quiet, and he didn’t smile very often, but sometimes made funny faces just for you when he caught you watching him.

When your mom returned hours later to pick you up, you were still sitting beside Min Yoongi, scribbling on coloring sheets and talking about the skateboard he wanted for his birthday.

When she asked you how your day was, you shrugged.

“Mama, can I have a skateboard for my birthday?” you asked instead.

Suddenly, you weren’t worried about doing preschool alone anymore, because you had a friend.

You and Yoongi shared snacks and crayons, shared a mat during nap time, made up entire universes with your action figures on the playground mulch. When another kid tried to snatch your glitter pen, Yoongi stood in front of you like a tiny, scowling bodyguard.

By elementary school, it was simply understood that if there was a field trip, you would sit next to Yoongi on the bus. If there was a group project, you were partners. You learned how to skateboard together, both of you wobbling down the sidewalk, shrieking when you nearly lost your balance. The first time you fell and busted your knee, Yoongi didn’t laugh. He crouched beside you, frowning, and tore a piece of tissue from his pocket to press against the blood like he’d seen adults do.

You walked into every new year side by side, every classroom, every milestone.

Middle school was brutal, but you survived it together. The awkward phases—your braces, his questionable haircuts. Growth spurts that left your limbs feeling too long and unfamiliar.

When you got your first period in sixth grade and panicked in the bathroom, it was Yoongi you texted in hysterics because your mom wasn’t answering. He didn’t know what to say, but he ditched his class and waited outside the nurse’s office anyway. When you finally emerged, pale and mortified, he wordlessly handed you his hoodie to tie around your waist.

When kids teased him for being quiet or for caring too much about music, you were the one who stood up for him. When someone made a snide comment about your thrift-store clothes, he stared them down until they looked away first.

In high school, you discovered, around the same time, that the flutter in your stomach wasn’t limited to just boys or just girls. It was terrifying to say it out loud. You both ended up sitting in the grass in his backyard one night, staring at the stars because neither of you could look directly at the other.

“I think I might be… not straight,” you said suddenly.

After a too-long silence that made your stomach turn, he finally spoke.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Me too."

You both laughed in shaky relief, shoulders bumping together.

“Cool,” you said.

“Cool.”

The first Pride parade you ever went to was the summer after sophomore year. Neither of you told anyone you were going. Yoongi borrowed his dad’s car and drove the whole way with the windows down, music blasting so loud the bass rattled the doors.

You both ended up dancing in the middle of the street with strangers, arms thrown over each other’s shoulders, sweat and glitter and joy sticking to your skin. You’d never seen Yoongi look so open. His usual guardedness melted in the noise and color, the innate acceptance in the air.

When a cute boy with glitter on his cheeks later leaned in and kissed him full on the mouth, you shrieked so loudly you nearly lost your voice.

Sophomore year turned into junior. Junior into senior.

Yoongi dated girls and boys, short-lived relationships that fizzled out within a few weeks but burned bright and hot while they lasted. You listened to every story and pretended not to feel impatient about your own late-blooming heart.

You went to his open mic gigs. He edited your essays. You fought sometimes—stupid, stubborn arguments—but you always found your way back to each other.

By the time college applications rolled around, it wasn’t even a question.

Of course you applied to the same schools. Of course you toured campuses together. When acceptance letters came in and you both got into the same university, you grinned at each other like it was fate and not years of carefully aligning your choices.

And you were going to be roommates, obviously. Who else would you live with?

Preschool to adulthood. Cradle to grave. You honestly can't remember a time in your life where he wasn't there for you when you needed him.

Fucking all of that up for the sake of an orgasm, an orgasm that may not even happen… That would be stupid, right?

So why the fuck are you considering it?

When you woke up this morning, you were so sure that the right thing to do would be to turn him down. You even thought through exactly what you were going to say while you brushed your teeth—no, Yoongi, I really appreciate you wanting to protect me and everything, but I think it would be a bad idea. Our friendship means too much to me. Blah blah blah.

Because yes, you want answers. Yes, you want clarity. Yes, you want your confusing body to finally stop sabotaging you whenever sex is involved. But wanting Yoongi involved? Wanting your lifelong best friend to be… that for you?

You don’t know how to feel about it.

But you didn't even get a chance to say any of it out loud. As you left your bedroom and turned the corner into the living room, your speech already on the tip of your tongue, Yoongi beat you to the punch.

“Lunch later?” he asked. “So we can talk?”

He looked so normal, like nothing had changed. Like the prospect of fucking you to orgasm wasn't messing him up in the head at all. And, as confused as you were—are—about… pretty much everything that's transpired in the past forty-eight hours, something about that comforted you enough to say, “sure.”

So. Lunch.

You’ve been coming to this restaurant together for years, to the point where you both know the menu by heart. You always sit at the booth by the window, and he always orders the same thing: kimchi-jjigae, extra rice on the side. He doesn’t even have to ask anymore; the staff knows him. Same for you.

The familiarity is comforting, especially with something so unfamiliar hanging between you.

You're picking at the banchan laid out between you with your chopsticks when you decide to break the silence.

“So…” you start, aimlessly pushing a piece of cucumber around in one of the dishes. “You're into BDSM, huh?”

You cringe because you sound like a fucking idiot, but at least Yoongi has the decency to laugh, albeit uncomfortably.

“Yup.”

“Since college?” you clarify, like you don't remember.

Yoongi hums. "Since college."

“So while I was, like… sitting home and watching Grey's Anatomy like a loser, you were…?”

“Probably watching Grey's Anatomy with you,” he reminds you gently. “But, yeah. I was also doing… other stuff, in my free time.”

You stare at him. “How?”

“How what?”

“How does one even… get into something like that?”

Yoongi snorts. “Didn't you just get into it?”

You narrow your eyes at him, even though he isn't really looking at you. Touché, Min Yoongi.

“You know what I mean,” you say flatly, waving a hand. “How does one become a practicing BDSMer, or whatever?”

“What, you want the details?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I don't know! I mean, was it always that? Did you ever have normal, non-kinky sex?”

“Of course I did,” he mutters. His knee bounces under the table. “Look, is it really that shocking to you? That I'm into it?”

“Uh, yes.”

His knee stills and he sits back in his seat with a huff, finally meeting your eyes.

“I've been bossing you around our entire lives,” he says matter-of-factly. “Why is it so surprising that I could just enjoy doing that?”

Oh.

Well. When he puts it like that…

“It's just weird,” you mumble, pointedly looking away to stuff a cucumber slice into your mouth.

“Why is it so weird?” he asks, exasperated. “Would it surprise you if Jimin or Taehyung told you they like tying each other up or some shit like that?”

“No, but Jimin and Taehyung are Jimin and Taehyung. They're weird people. I don't think anything they do could surprise me anymore.”

“…Are you mad that I didn't tell you?”

You glance at him.

He looks genuinely guilty, and that makes you feel bad. You don't want him to feel guilty over this. You just don't know how to cope with the idea of your best friend gallivanting around in, like, sex dungeons or something while you were up late studying for exams, none the wiser.

“I don't know,” you say, setting your chopsticks down to rub your temples. “No? We don't really talk about our sex lives like that.”

“No, we don't.”

You sigh. “I'm just surprised, okay? And confused.”

Yoongi's lips flatten into a line. You can tell that he really doesn't want to give you the details, which is a little funny considering he's literally offering to have sex with you. You don't understand how this is any more intimate.

“It just kind of happened,” he says stiffly. “Someone I was seeing back then was into some stuff, and I liked it, so I kept seeking it out. I learned more. I kept doing it, and I got really good at it. It's not like I was kidnapped and initiated by seven guys in cloaks.”

Really good at it, he says. God.

“Uh-huh,” you say, because you're unable to think up an appropriate response to that.

He’s still tense, but he softens just the slightest bit.

“I get that it sounds weird, but it really isn't. I'm still me,” he says. “And I'll still be me, even if you decide to agree to what we talked about last night.”

Oop. There it is.

Right then, your waiter decides it's the perfect time to bring out your food. Part of you is thankful, because this is the part of the conversation you've been dreading since you sat down.

He sets down Yoongi's bubbling stew first, then your galbi. Steam curls up between you, warm and fragrant, but neither of you reaches for your food. Your chopsticks sit untouched.

“Can I get either of you anything else?” he asks. Yoongi is still looking at you.

“No, we're good,” you answer meekly, hoping the waiter doesn't catch on to how flustered you look. You and Yoongi come here a lot. “Thanks.”

And then he's gone.

You pick up your chopsticks purely so you have something to hold, something to look at that isn’t Yoongi’s eyes tracking your every move. The galbi smells incredible, but your stomach feels like a stone.

“I’m not…” You take a deep breath. “I’m not totally shutting it down, okay?”

Yoongi's shoulders ease the tiniest bit. “But?”

“But… I don’t want to ruin us.” You gesture helplessly between you, as if the air itself might explain what you can’t find words for. “You’re my person, Yoongi. My whole life, pretty much. And the idea of… doing something wrong and losing that? It makes me feel sick.”

“I know,” he says softly.

“And I don’t even know what it would be,” you continue. “You being… my… dom.” The word instantly makes heat rush to your cheeks. “What does that even look like? Is it this whole secret personality of yours I’ve never seen before? Do you wear leather pants? Like—what is it?”

Yoongi coughs a laugh into his fist. “No leather pants,” he says. “I promise.”

“What, then?”

“It would look like whatever we agree it looks like,” he says gently. “I don’t have a one-size-fits-all mode. It's different for everyone.”

You swallow. “Yeah, but you and me…”

“We would still be us,” he interrupts, like it's simple. “Just… with a different set of boundaries when we choose to be in that space.”

“And outside of that space?”

“Outside of it?” He leans back slightly. “I’m still your best friend. Nothing has to change unless you want it to.”

The certainty in his voice baffles you. Like he’s already built a version of this in his head where you’re safe, and steady, and he’s not losing you in the process. Like he’s not scared at all, even though your nerves are chewing you alive.

“Let me ask you something,” he says, “and don’t overthink it.”

“Yoongi, I overthink my own pulse.”

“I know. Are you attracted to me?”

Your heart stutters.

“Look,” he continues, as if sensing your hesitance to answer. “If this is even on the table, I need to know you’re not picturing some… blank, faceless dude. It would be me.” He gestures at himself. “I would be the one talking to you, touching you, all of that. So if the idea makes your skin crawl, we can end the conversation right now.”

Fuuuuuuuck.

You could lie. It would be easier, cleaner, safer.

But you think about the deftness in his hands you’ve watched for years—fixing things, cooking, holding you when you cried, guiding you through crowds. The care. The danger simmering beneath that you never knew existed. You picture him half-drunk at Pride, kissing that guy. You picture him in the kitchen last night.

You have eyes. So you tell the truth.

“…Yes,” you finally say.

His face doesn’t change, but you feel the energy shift between you anyway.

You exhale shakily. “I think I am. I mean—you're objectively hot, okay? You got bitches in college for a reason.”

Yoongi laughs at that.

“Okay,” he says softly, lips still upturned. “Good.”

“Good?” you echo.

“Good to know we’re not running into some fundamental incompatibility.” He pauses. “Next question?”

“Oh my god, is this a questionnaire?”

“Yes,” he says, deadpan. “Welcome to BDSM. I thought you did your research, silly. We're all about questionnaires over here.”

You groan. “Go ahead, I guess.”

“Does the idea of having sex with me make you uncomfortable?”

Hoo, boy. That is a loaded question.

Your first instinct is to panic, but not for the reason he probably thinks. What you're feeling is decidedly not discomfort. It’s not revulsion, either. It’s something that you don’t know how to categorize yet.

You’re… startled, sure. Curious, maybe. Nervous, definitely. Intrigued. Overheated. A little nauseous in a way that feels more like being tipped over the crest of a roller coaster. You're lots of things, but uncomfortable isn't one of them.

“I don't think uncomfortable isn’t the right word,” you admit quietly. “It’s just… new.”

He nods. “New is okay, you know.”

You huff out a breath, rubbing your palms on your thighs. “The idea just… takes a second to rearrange in my head. But I don't think I'm, like… against it.”

“I can work with that.”

There’s more to say. More questions. More fears. But Yoongi glances meaningfully at the untouched food between you.

“Eat,” he says, reaching to nudge your plate closer to you. “Your food’s getting cold.”

Despite your nonexistent appetite, you don't argue. Eating delays deciding, and deciding terrifies you.

You both chew in silence for a few minutes, the clink of cutlery and the low murmur of the restaurant giving you something to anchor yourself to while your thoughts try not to spill over the rim. Yoongi, on the other hand, is somehow the picture of calm. He just eats beside you like you’re having any other lunch.

You busy yourself with building a perfect ssam, loading meat and rice onto a perilla leaf with probably more focus than necessary.

When you get to your second one, the leaves get stuck together. Yoongi notices immediately, trading his spoon for chopsticks without a second thought to hold the bottom one so you can peel them apart.

It’s stupid. In your lifetime, Yoongi has probably unstuck a million perilla leaves for you. It’s nothing. It’s just something he does. But something about him doing it now, in this context, while you’re having this conversation, makes you feel…

Hm.

“Thanks,” you mumble, face warm.

“No worries.”

Right. Because again, he’s done that for you a million times. It’s normal.

You stuff your second ssam into your mouth with an audible ‘aaahm,’ a habit you picked up from Yoongi over the years, and will yourself to chill the fuck out.

After a few more minutes of quiet, between bites of kimchi and rice, he asks, “what exactly happens, when it doesn’t work?”

You freeze. You knew this was coming—this part. The specifics. And yet, somehow, it still feels humiliating, the idea of airing out all of your sexual shortcomings.

You swallow your bite of galbi like it's been poisoned. “I hate this,” you mumble.

“I know,” he says softly, nudging your foot under the table with his. “You don’t have to tell me everything, but the more I understand, the more I can help. Hypothetically.”

You know he’s right.

Still, it’s hard. Hard to dig this up and hand it over, piece by piece.

“It’s not like… a total shutdown,” you start, voice quiet. “It’s not like I’ve never felt anything. But it’s always better when I’m, uh… by myself.”

Yoongi nods, listening.

“Like, I know my own body,” you continue. “I know what works, I can…” You glance around to make sure no one is listening. “Uh, get myself there. Not always, if I’m stressed or exhausted or… But more often than not, it’s fine. I’ve got a decent solo success rate.”

“And with partners?” Yoongi prompts gently.

You take a deep breath. “That’s when everything goes to shit. I just… freeze. I get so in my head about it—about how much I want it to go right, about how I have to make it work this time—that I stop feeling anything at all. I’ll be into it at first, or at least trying to be, but then something happens, or nothing happens, and then I start panicking, like, fuck, it’s happening again, it’s not working again.”

Yoongi doesn’t react with pity—thank god. He’s quiet, yes, but that's normal for him. You've known him long enough to know when he's paying attention.

“It’s like… the harder I try to want it, the more I don’t,” you say, mouth twisting into a frown.

“Do you tell them when it’s not working?” he asks.

“Sometimes. Or I just fake it.”

Yoongi frowns. “You shouldn't have to fake it.”

You scoff. “Yeah, well. It’s easier than seeing their face when they realize they can’t get you there.”

You clench your jaw and stare down at your lap.

“It makes me feel defective,” you continue. “Like I missed some kind of memo. Like everyone else got handed a manual on how to enjoy sex and I didn’t.”

“Defective,” he repeats, and when you look up at him you're surprised to see that he looks a little pissed. Not at you, you don't think, but it still makes your gut twist.

“I don't know how else to say it.”

Yoongi sits with that for a second, and you keep picking at your food to give yourself something to do. You've never said any of this out loud before, and you know how it sounds. You wouldn't blame Yoongi for agreeing with you after hearing it, for thinking you're probably broken, too.

“What about your research?” he asks suddenly.

You blink, then furrow your brow. “What about it?”

“Obviously something about what you found made you feel something,” he says. “I'm interested in what it was that did it for you.”

Ah.

You chew your lip, embarrassed. “You mean, like… what turned me on?”

Yoongi hums.

“Um…” You shift in your seat. “It wasn’t just… one thing.”

“Even better,” he says. “What caught your attention first, then?”

Hoo. Fuck. Okay, here goes nothing.

“I think I liked how everything was spelled out,” you say. “Who does what. Who decides what. Where the line is. There's no guessing, no trying to read someone’s mind, no worrying about disappointing anybody because the expectations are right there.”

Yoongi nods slowly, encouraging you to keep going.

“It seemed… safe, I guess?” you continue, fumbling for the right words. “Like I wouldn’t have to pretend to know what I’m doing, or pretend I’m feeling something I’m not. And I… I liked that someone was actually in charge. Not in a creepy way, but in a… fuck, I don’t know.”

“I get what you're saying,” he says softly. “What else did you like?”

Your mind immediately drifts to the porn you watched, how wet it made you, which makes your cheeks even warmer than they already were. God. You bet you're flushed all the way down to the neckline of your sweater.

“Um… I don't know if I know the actual, like… term for it.”

“It's okay,” Yoongi assures you. “Try your best.”

You're squirming, what the hell. It's like you can't sit still all of a sudden, and you don't know if it's the subject or if it's the way Yoongi is talking to you now. It's similar to the way he talked to you last night, but… more.

“Being, uh…” You suck in a breath, hesitating. “Being talked down to…?”

“Yeah?” he asks, and oh fuck, the look on his face. Nobody else would look twice, but you're fluent in his microexpressions. His pupils are blown.

“Yeah,” you breathe, fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater. “Is that… bad?”

“Not at all,” Yoongi says, licking his lips. Shit shit shit. “What else?”

The thought crosses your mind to tell him about the woman in the video being slapped, what that did to you. Your thighs even squeeze together under the table at the memory. But that seems like a lot right now, so you file through all the other things that caught your attention the other night.

“Praise?” you try shyly. “Like, after…”

“After you cum,” Yoongi finishes, eyes still impossibly dark. “You like the idea of being told how good you are?”

You nod, embarrassed.

Yoongi tilts his head, studying you. “You okay?” he asks, but there's a touch of amusement there, like he's enjoying how much you're suffering.

“Sooooo good,” you say, trying for breezy. Like you're not panicking about being a little turned on by the way your best friend is looking at you and speaking to you and FUCK!!!

“Uh-huh,” he says. “I’m gonna try something.”

“Uh,” you say, sitting up a little straighter. “Right now?”

“Right now,” he confirms, before adding, “if that's okay.”

“Don't we have, like, a trillion more things to talk about?”

He nods. “Yeah, and I know you haven't even agreed to anything, but…” His jaw ticks. “Defective? Fuck. I don't want you to think that about yourself. I know you're not, and I also know I can show you that you're not if you'd just…”

Shit, your heart is pounding. What the fuck is he suggesting?

“Just…?”

Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, meeting your eyes. “Do you trust me?”

You don't even have to think about it. “Of course.”

“If you say stop, I’ll stop,” he reassures you. “No questions. No pushing. You say the word, and I back off. Understood?”

You swallow hard. What the hell are you about to agree to?

“Okay. I understand.”

“Good,” he murmurs. “We’re not doing anything intense, I promise. I won't even touch you there. We haven't talked enough for…” He trails off, shaking his head. “I just want to see how you react.”

His words calm you enough for your posture to relax, but still, you can't help but wonder what he is going to do instead. You're suddenly keenly aware of your body and your surroundings.

“Here? In public?”

“That’s part of the point.”

God, what in the world could that mean?

You’re about to ask when you feel it—his hand brushing your knee under the table. Just a knuckle at first, grazing the exposed skin where your skirt rides up. The touch is light, a test. A question.

Your own question gets lodged in your throat, your whole body tensing. Yoongi watches you like he’s reading a book he’s already memorized down to the letter, amused and fond.

“Relax,” he says softly. “We’re just playing.”

You nod jerkily, and his hand moves again, knuckles dragging up your thigh in a slow, unhurried path.

“You’re already squirming, baby.”

Baby???????

That… that is… well that's something, isn't it?

Your voice shakes when you speak. “You said you wouldn’t touch me.”

“I said I wouldn’t touch your pussy. I never said anything about keeping my hands to myself.” He raises a brow, hand stilling. “You want me to stop?”

You shake your head, because no, you really don't want him to stop. It makes no sense to you, why your body is responding the way it is, but you're sure as hell not about to take it for granted. It bodes well, right? It means this might be worth the risk?

Yoongi tsks. “Use your words,” he says sharply.

Fucking shit.

“No,” you say, no louder than a whisper. “Don't stop.”

Seemingly satisfied, Yoongi fingers resume stroking your thigh. They skirt higher, teasingly close but not inappropriate—at least not yet. The touch is careful, but deliberate. Controlled.

And you are not.

Your brain screams at you to act normal, look normal, but your body’s not listening. Every inch of you is tuned to the heat of his hand, the low hum of his voice.

You flush, eyes darting around the restaurant. No one’s watching. Your waiter is chatting with a couple by the counter, the booth behind you is empty, and the music overhead provides just enough cover to make this feel like a secret. Still, there's no tablecloth hiding what's happening under the table. Anyone could turn their head and see at any moment.

He leans in a little, dropping his voice. “For someone who claims to be bored by sex, you sure are having a hard time staying still.”

You press your thighs together on instinct, trying to regain control of yourself, but that only makes it worse. He hasn’t even touched you properly, and still your pulse is loud in your ears, your panties already dampening. You wonder if he knows. As promised, he isn't touching you there, but it would take so little for him to change that.

“I haven’t even done anything,” he adds. “I'm just touching your leg, baby. That’s all.”

You squirm again, but his fingers don’t move. They just rest there at mid-thigh, warm and suggestive, a promise of everything he could do if you let him.

Yoongi’s voice drops to a whisper. “Is it because anyone could see?”

Your eyes widen. “What?” you ask, finding your voice.

“Does that turn you on?” he asks. “Knowing we’re out in the open? That someone could look over and see my hand between your thighs?”

Shit, is that an option? Are you allowed to find that hot?

You swallow hard, mouth going dry as his knuckles skate higher to graze the softness of your inner thigh, a breath away from where you’re getting wet.

“Yoongi…”

"I could finger you right now," he muses, carefully watching your reaction. "Right here. Stretch you open while you try not to make a sound."

“O-oh,” you breathe, and the word feels as if it was punched out of you. Your lashes flutter.

“Oh, fuck,” he says, eyes gleaming. “You’d let me, wouldn’t you? Look at how your legs are opening.”

Wait, what?

You didn't even realize, but oh shit, he's right. Eyes widening, you look down past the table to find your thighs spread for him. It's mortifying, but you can’t bring yourself to close them again. Your body wants it. The sight of his hand up your skirt is dizzying.

“God, you’re sweet,” he coos. “Are you really that easy for me? All that talk about how worried you are. You don't seem that worried, baby.”

“I…”

Your voice fails you entirely, breaking into a helpless exhale that gives away everything you’re trying and failing to hide. Your hips tilt forward a fraction of an inch, seeking more of a touch he still hasn’t given, and the realization makes your entire body go hot.

Suddenly, Yoongi pulls his hand away, letting the absence of touch feel just as loud as the touch itself. You’re left aching, wide-eyed, pulse fluttering like a trapped thing.

“Good to know.”

Right. He said he wouldn’t touch you. You remember.

The air between you and Yoongi feels thick and charged. You sit frozen in the booth, skin flushed, thighs pressed together too late, pulse thudding like you just ran ten flights of stairs, even though that was… basically nothing.

But your body is humming. Your pulse hasn’t come down. Your panties are damp, and the inside of your thighs ache with need. All of that, and he never even went near your pussy.

What the fuck.

You gape at him from across the table, bewildered. He’s sipping his water like nothing happened, but you can read the smug expression on his face clear as day.

He glances at you, and his smirk is instant.

“Don’t,” you croak. It comes out humiliatingly thin. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Yoongi arches a brow. “Like what?” he asks, all mock-innocence.

“Like you…” You gesture vaguely, helpless. “Like you know something I don’t.”

“I do,” he says simply.

“Yoongi,” you hiss.

“Alright, alright,” he says, laughing a little, leaning back in the booth with his arms spread over the backrest like he’s been waiting for this moment all day. “You want me to break it down for you?”

You nod. “Yes. Please. What just happened?”

“You anticipated.”

Uh, that's fucking vague.

“I… anticipated,” you repeat.

Yoongi shrugs. “From what you told me earlier? That’s not something you're used to,” he says. “You don’t anticipate, you dread. You’re always waiting for something to go wrong. You're used to bracing for disappointment before anything even starts.”

Ouch.

The critique hurts a little, but you can't deny it either. He's not telling you anything you don't already know. It just sounds different, coming out of someone else's mouth. Especially someone whose opinion you value so much.

“So I did something you weren't expecting,” he continues, voice softer now. “That’s what made it work. You weren’t in your usual loop. You weren’t over-analyzing every second of it, wondering if it was going to be another disappointment. You were just reacting to me.”

You glance down at your lap, your skirt still rumpled where you’d squirmed against the booth cushion. Your skin’s still tingling.

“And for the record,” he adds, “I didn’t touch you because I didn’t need to. Half the fun is in the build-up." He huffs a laugh. “Another thing we're all about over here.”

Yoongi’s words settle over you, startling in how much sense they make.

He really isn't all talk, is he? Maybe it's a testament to how well he knows you, or maybe it's a testament to how experienced he is with this kind of thing. Maybe it's a combination of both. Either way, you come to the jarring realization that you've changed your tune.

You're still terrified, of course. Still worried about losing your best friend when all is said and done. But you also know that you really, really, really want to prove to yourself that you're not broken. It's debilitating, how badly you want that.

And the evidence that Yoongi could be the one to get you there is hard to ignore.

Now you just have to tell him, which is somehow the scariest thing you've done today.

“So…” you start carefully. “This might actually work.”

The second the words are out, Yoongi visibly stills.

“Yeah?” he asks quietly.

You bite your bottom lip. “Yeah. I mean… fuck, Yoongi. I haven’t reacted like that to someone in a long time. Maybe ever? And you barely even did anything.”

A pleased hum vibrates in his throat. You can tell he's proud of himself.

You take a breath and power through. “So maybe… maybe I should just… try. With you. Like you said.”

There. Now it's all out there.

Yoongi looks surprised, and it dawns on you that despite all of his smugness in the past few minutes, maybe he wasn't actually expecting you to agree. But he shakes it off quickly, expression shifting into something calmer.

“Okay,” he says. “Then we’ll try.”

“Tonight?” you ask hopefully.

Yoongi laughs and shakes his head. “No, baby.” Your thighs clench under the table at the pet name again. “This isn’t porn. We’re not jumping into anything blind.”

“Oh,” you say, a little disappointed. You know you had your reservations, but you also really want to cum. Now that it feels like a real possibility, you're impatient.

“I told you,” he says gently. “BDSM is a lot of talking shit to death. Before anything happens, I have something for you to look over.”

“What is it?” you ask.

“A list.”

“A list,” you repeat incredulously.

“A very thorough list,” he corrects, “of kinks, preferences, curiosities, hard limits. What you know you like. What you think you might like. What you absolutely do not want.”

Your face goes up in flames. “Yoongi—“

“Last night you told me you signed up for one of those BDSM sites and had to fill that stuff out anyway, right?” he asks.

You nod.

“Then it should be easy,” he says. “But this time, I want you to fill it out and think about doing those things with me.”

Your breath catches.

“Oh,” you breathe.

“Yeah,” he says, watching you a little too closely. “Oh.”

You try to play it cool, but the idea of scrolling through a list of sexual acts with Yoongi's face in mind—his voice, his hands—makes heat skitter down your spine.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I… can do that.”

“Then I’ll send it to you tomorrow,” he says. “Not tonight. I want you to relax tonight. Take your time with it. Days, if you need them. I’m not in a rush.”

“Okay,” you repeat, the word leaving your lips in a whoosh of air.

Yoongi leans forward, elbows on the table. “I need you to hear this next part clearly.”

You straighten your posture, waiting.

“Just because you said yes doesn't mean you can't change your mind. You can back out at any point,” he says seriously. “Before we start, during, after—any moment you’re unsure or uncomfortable, you say stop, and we stop. You will never embarrass me, and I’ll never push you into something you don't want. Okay?”

Your chest tightens. A good tight. A safe tight.

“Okay,” you whisper.

Satisfied, he leans back in his seat and lifts his spoon, scooping up a bit of rice.

“Now finish your lunch,” he says, taking a bite.

You stare at him.

He arches a brow as he chews. “What?”

“You just… You want me to pretend everything is normal and eat my galbi? Are you serious?”

Yoongi snorts and swallows his rice. “Yes.”

“But—“

“Eat,” he says softly, using his free hand to nudge your plate towards you again.

Annoying. He's so annoying, making you wait. You can tell he's enjoying it, too. That he's having fun watching you squirm.

You pick up your chopsticks anyway.

୨ৎ

Your phone buzzes against the stack of deposition folders you’re supposed to be reorganizing, pulling a sigh from you. It's been a busy fucking Monday, and you assume it’s yet another Outlook notification. Probably your boss asking for a draft, another partner requesting a last-minute filing.

It is none of those things.

It’s a text from Yoongi.

Yoongi: Hey, check your email

Shit. He's sending it now? While you're at work?

You look up from your phone. The office is quiet. Namjoon, the paralegal three cubicles over, is on lunch. Your supervising attorney is in court. Despite how exposed you are at your corner desk between the copier and the window, you are, for the first time all day, disastrously, stupidly alone.

At least he has good timing, you think. And he had the decency to send it to your personal email and not your work one—you know I.T. loves to snoop through shit.

You're hyperaware of the fact that you shouldn't open it now, that you should wait until you've clocked out. Yoongi wouldn't press you on it once you got home. He wouldn't even bring it up until you approached him first.

But you're impatient, so you unlock your phone and bring up your inbox.

From: [email protected]

Subject: :-)

Here's the list we talked about. Look over it when you can, no rush. Remember to take your time.

checklist.pdf

God, he's so…

You hesitate for all of two seconds before opening it.

The document loads slowly, but when it finally appears, your breath catches. It’s… long. Not a cute little questionnaire, but instead a fucking beast organized into tidy sections with clean headers, dropdowns, and lines for notes.

It's so him.

You scroll through it, eyes widening with each swipe of your thumb.

Jesus. It's alphabetized. Color-coded. Split into sections that cover every possible scenario, every kink under the sun. There are sections for toys, restraints, positions, roles, aftercare preferences, all kinds of shit that absolutely wasn't covered in the stupid profile you set up.

It's so thorough that your cheeks burn.

You cross your legs instinctively under your desk, pulse fluttering.

Strangely, this feels like foreplay. Filthy foreplay disguised as homework. He sent it to you while you’re at the office, and you're willing to bet he knew you'd open it here, too. He knows how impatient you are, and he also knows that you're (apparently!!!) not above doing things like this in public settings.

'Look over it when you can' your ass. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You start slowly, clicking into the first section, doing your best to look like a professional in a professional environment. No one is around, but that can change at literally any moment. You may be horny, but that doesn't mean you're willing to get fired over it.

You skip around a bit, blushing as you mark your maybe's and no's. Those feel a bit easier to start with. Like, yes, you might hypothetically be interested in being gagged or tied up, but no, you're not really into foot stuff.

This list is comprehensive as fuck, and you doubt he's done everything on here, but you make a mental note to ask Yoongi about that one.

The bodily fluids section is by far the worst. You end up marking maybe on pretty much everything (except for bathroom-related fluids), because the thought of Yoongi cumming on or in you… Ha. You don't really know. Maybe feels like the right choice for now.

Some of them, like degradation and praise, are embarrassingly easy. He already knows it's a yes, and you know that, but clicking the little box makes it humiliatingly real. Speaking of humiliation, you mark yes on that one, too.

A warmth pools between your thighs and you shift, trying to subtly reposition yourself in your ergonomic chair so the pressure isn’t so direct.

God. You're going to combust.

Exhibitionism.

Yep. That much is clear.

Impact play.

There’s honestly a lot more under that umbrella than you were expecting. Spanking and slapping you knew, obviously. And of course, your unfortunate Fifty Shades-informed background knowledge covered some things. Still, some of the, uh, tools listed go right over your head, so you switch tabs and discreetly look things up on an incognito tab.

Ah. Hah. Some of these are… a lot.

Your mind flashes back, unbidden, to the woman in the video. The sharp sound of skin meeting skin.

You switch back to the list. Your thumb wavers… wavers… then clicks the box under the 'yes' column for… almost all of it.

More categories. More questions. More prompts that feel less like a form and more like a hand under your skirt. Again.

Your heartbeat is ridiculous. You’re lightheaded. Every tick of the form feels like revealing skin. And through all of it, through the humiliation and the hunger and the ridiculousness of doing this with corporate office lighting reflecting off your monitor—

You are undeniably, dangerously excited.

You don’t know how you’re going to look Yoongi in the eye after you send this back, filled out and devastatingly revealing.

But you also can’t wait.

୨ৎ

By Friday night, you’re wound so tight you could probably shatter if someone breathed on you wrong.

It’s been days.

Days since you emailed Yoongi your filled-out checklist, and you have not been chill. Not even remotely.

By mid-week, your anticipation had mutated into a kind of irritably horny tantrum. You were restless, jumpy, quick to snap at coworkers. Sweet, sweet Namjoon asked if you were coming down with something. Yeah, actually, you thought. A chronic condition called My Best Friend Is An Evil Fucking Tease Disease.

You’re past restless now. Past irritated. You’re going to combust.

And of course tonight is movie night.

The normal, platonic, nothing-to-see-here movie night that you always have with Yoongi, like, every other Friday night, on the couch you’ve shared a thousand times. A bowl of popcorn between you. A blanket tossed over your legs. Yoongi sitting close enough that his thigh brushes yours every now and then, and of course instead of watching fucking Tazza for the millionth time, the old man obsessed with routine has picked something new to watch tonight.

He better not quiz you, because you barely absorb the movie. You couldn’t repeat a single plot point back to him if your life depended on it. You don’t even know what genre it was supposed to be. Yoongi laughs at something once; you jump because you were too busy watching him instead of the screen.

And he’s so normal about it. So ridiculously himself.

Meanwhile, you're sitting there vibrating like a tuning fork. Apparently that's going to be a common theme now. Great. You used to love movie nights.

When the credits finally roll, Yoongi's eyes are fluttering like he's about to fall asleep, and that pisses you off enough for you to snap.

“Did you even look at it?”

Your voice is way too sharp. It slices through the room like a thrown knife, and Yoongi jolts so hard the popcorn almost gets turned over. Good. Bastard.

“Look at what?” he asks, staring at you quizzically.

Oh, fuck that. You’re going to throw hands.

“The list,” you hiss, setting the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table a little too hard. “The list I spent three days agonizing over? Where I had to fill out every single one of my sexual desires for you, Min Yoongi, my best friend in the world, to review? That list?”

His expression remains maddeningly calm.

“Yeah,” he says. “I read it.”

Your heart drops, thuds, ricochets off your ribs with all the grace of a brick.

So he did read it.

“Oh,” you say dumbly. “Cool. Great. Okay.”

Yoongi hums, giving you absolutely nothing.

“And?” you ask expectantly.

“And?”

You sputter, incredulous. “Are you ever going to—” you gesture helplessly, “—do anything about it?”

Yoongi shrugs.

Like you didn't spend half the week at work re-reading and overthinking and wondering. Like you haven’t been going slowly insane waiting for him to acknowledge the fact that you told him—explicitly—everything you want him to do to you.

He scratches his jaw lazily. “I mean… I can do something about it right now,” he says, a smirk twitching at his lips suddenly. “If that’s what you want."

Your mouth goes dry.

Oh.

OH!!!!!!!

“You mad?” he asks smugly. “That I made you wait?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“No,” you repeat.

Yoongi chuckles. “I told you,” he says, amused. “The build-up is part of it.”

So that's what that was? You could strangle him, if you weren't so suddenly nervous that he's… Fuck, he's offering to do this now. You weren't expecting him to give in so easily.

“You okay?”

You nod quickly, even though your palms are sweating. “Yeah. I’m just… a little nervous.”

“I can tell,” he says softly, and then he shifts slightly so he’s angled more toward you, one arm draped along the back of the couch. “You don’t have to be, you know.”

You try to smile, but your nerves won’t quite let it settle.

“Hey. This isn’t a test.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean it,” he says. “I'm not keeping score. Tonight doesn't have to be about whether or not you cum. If it happens, great. If it doesn’t, that’s fine too.”

“But… I mean, the whole point is for me to cum, isn't it?”

“I'm pretty confident in our chances,” he offers with a wry little smile, and you snort despite yourself.

“Uh-huh,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“I’m serious,” he says, nudging your shoulder with his hand resting on the back of the couch. “But… if you go into this thinking the only success is an orgasm, you’re gonna get stuck in your head again. I don’t want that for you. I want you to enjoy it while it’s happening.”

You swallow hard, emotions knotting up in your throat. You want that, too.

“Okay,” you murmur. “Yeah. I’ll try.”

He gives you a small smile. “Good. That’s all I want.”

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he continues, shifting just slightly closer. “I’m gonna try a few things. Nothing you haven’t already approved on the list. I won’t warn you before I do them, though. We’re gonna let your body respond without you anticipating what’s next. That’s what worked last time, remember?”

You nod, already feeling a little warmer at the reminder of what happened under the table at the restaurant. “You're gonna surprise me?”

“Exactly. But before we do anything, we need a safety net.”

Your brows pinch. “What do you mean?”

“Safewords,” he says. “You learned about those when you were looking stuff up, right?” You hum. “Remember seeing anything about the stoplight system?”

You nod, recognizing the phrase from your research. “Green, yellow, red?” you clarify.

“Right,” Yoongi confirms. “Green means you’re good. You like what’s happening and you want more. Yellow means pause or slow down. Use it if something’s off, or you’re not sure, or if you just need a minute to breathe. It gives me a heads-up to check in with you. And red means stop immediately. Everything ends for the night.”

He says it all so calmly, like he’s said it a hundred times before. Maybe he has. It probably should be intimidating, that knowledge. That experience.

But all you feel is reassurance.

He’s not making this up as he goes. He knows what he’s doing. And he wants you to feel safe.

“Okay,” you say. “Got it.”

“Say it back to me,” he says gently, but there’s command underneath it.

You blink. “Seriously?”

“You heard me.”

You lick your lips and take a breath. “Green means yes, more. Yellow means slow down. Red means stop completely.”

“Good.”

It seems like he's said everything he needs to say, but he must’ve anticipated that you’d have more questions, based on the way he’s watching you patiently.

“Yoongi?”

“Mm?”

“Is it, uh…” You trail off, suddenly self-conscious. “Would it fuck up your plan if I want to leave my clothes on this time?”

Yoongi immediately shakes his head. “No. I want you to feel comfortable. If that means leaving your clothes on, then leave them on.”

“Okay.”

“Are you still cool with me, uh, touching you?”

You instantly know he means your pussy, and it's more than a little endearing that he's censoring himself. Yoongi doesn't often mince words, but he's also never spoken to you about your body like this before. Well, apart from yesterday.

“I mean… yeah? How else are you supposed to make me cum?”

Yoongi's mouth twitches like he's holding back a laugh. “You'd be surprised.”

Ohhhhhhh. You don't know what to do with that.

“You can touch me,” you say, simultaneously waving the thought away and fanning your warming cheeks. “Just, uh… Maybe keep things over the underwear for now. Is that okay?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Okay.”

He studies your face. “Are you ready?”

You laugh weakly. “As I’ll ever be.”

He must be satisfied with that, because he shifts on the couch and pats his thigh.

“Come sit.”

You glance down at his lap. His legs are spread wide on the cushion now, and the realization that he’s asking you—no, telling you—to straddle him, in that way, makes your face flush, your hands clammy again.

Your joints creak as you move, your body suddenly too heavy, too self-conscious. You slide into his lap carefully, awkwardly, straddling him with more hesitation than grace.

Your knees sink into the couch on either side of his thighs, and your hands hover, unsure of where to land. His hoodie is soft under your palms. His hands settle gently on your hips, fingers warm.

And then it hits you. The reality of this. What you’re about to do. What you’ve asked for.

This is Yoongi. Your Yoongi. The same guy who holds your hair back while you puke, who texts you to remind you to eat on stressful workdays, who dances with you in your kitchen at midnight. The same guy who once got so high he cried during a Pixar movie and then passed out next to you on this very couch.

And now you’re sitting in his lap, about to let him do… whatever he wants, really.

It's absurd.

“Oh my god,” you blurt, cheeks heating. “Actually, this is insane. This is fucking ridiculous.”

Yoongi doesn't say anything, and the silence feels unbearable.

“I mean, look at us, Yoongi!” you continue, voice rising. “What are we doing? We’re best friends! And I’m sitting in your lap like I'm—god, this is so—“

“Are you done?” he cuts in.

Your mouth snaps shut instantly.

When you meet his eyes, the unreadable calm you find there sets off alarms in your brain.

Mayday, mayday! You've just fucked yourself over big time!

“I was gonna go easy on you, you know,” he says, voice cool. “First time and all. But if taking me seriously is gonna be a problem, I can think of plenty of ways to show you I’m not playing. And all of them hurt like a bitch.”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi hasn’t raised his voice. He hasn’t even moved. But the casual authority in his tone… It makes every single nerve in your body light up.

You’re stock still, heart hammering in your chest.

He tilts his head. “You wanna go there?”

You shake your head immediately.

“No,” you whisper. “I—I’m good.”

“No?” he echoes. His hand comes up, slow and deliberate, and grabs your jaw, fingers pressing into your cheeks just enough to squish them a little. “This mouth isn’t gonna be a problem, then?”

You shake your head again, wide-eyed. Oh, holy fucking shit.

“Words, baby. I won't tell you again.”

“No,” you gasp.

“You gonna shut the fuck up,” he asks, almost conversational, “and let me make you cum?”

You nod. “Mhm!”

Yoongi huffs out a quiet laugh and watches you for a second, his gaze dragging over your face like he’s memorizing it.

Then his thumb drags your bottom lip down just a little, playing with it, watching it bounce back.

“God, you’re cute,” he murmurs. “What’s your color?”

“Green.” It flies out of your mouth before the question finishes leaving his.

Still buzzing, you're half-expecting Yoongi to just dive straight into it, to move quickly now that the foundation's laid. You've talked through everything, right? You’ve calmed down. He knows what you want, and you know what he's offering. He has every right to push you down and take.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he settles in. He releases your jaw, moving to smooth his palms slow and steady over your hips.

“Y'know, maybe it isn't all that surprising that we ended up here,” he says flippantly, as if he's merely commenting on the weather.

Uh, what?

“Huh?”

He shrugs one shoulder, a smug expression forming on his face. “I've had to teach you how to do everything else.”

Your brows pull together, and at your confused look, Yoongi snickers.

“C'mon,” he teases, thumbs rubbing absent circles at your hipbones. “Who taught you how to parallel park, huh?”

“Uh. You,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this.

“How to roll a joint?”

“You.”

His eyes flick down to your lips, and in an instant the air around you thickens.

“How to kiss?”

Oh.

Fuck. He’s really bringing that up, huh?

“…You did.”

The silence stretches, thick and charged. His eyes stay trained on your mouth, the way your breath catches, the nervous flick of your tongue across your bottom lip.

“Been a while, though, hasn't it?” he murmurs. “Years.”

You nod, mouth suddenly dry.

“How many people do you think you've kissed since then?”

You're not ashamed of the amount of people you've been with. Annoyed, maybe, but not ashamed. Something about the way he asks, though—knowing and amused—makes you feel like you've been caught doing something dirty.

You don't know why you like it.

You squirm slightly. “I… I don’t know.”

“Can you guess for me?”

You try to think, to recount all the names and faces over the years, but the way he’s looking at you is making your brain foggy.

“I don't know,” you repeat. “A lot. More than I can count.”

“Bet you've learned some new tricks, haven't you?”

Your face heats. You look away on instinct, chewing on your bottom lip, because… yeah. You have. You're not the girl who asked him to teach you how to tilt her head right. Not anymore.

But you're not entirely sure you aren't still her, either. Not when he looks at you like that.

“…Maybe?”

“Yeah?” His thumb teases beneath the hem of your shirt now, slowly dragging across bare skin. “Do you wanna show me?”

You hesitate, but only for a second.

“Okay,” you whisper.

Your fingers tremble a little when you reach for him. There's a new nervous energy crawling beneath your skin, part anticipation, part guilty nostalgia. You scoot in closer, slowly, until your nose almost brushes his.

You lean in and shyly press your lips to his. Just a taste.

It's a whisper of a kiss, barely there, more breath than contact. Maybe it's the memory of the last time you did this with him, your first kiss. It makes you feel so… virginal.

But it’s been years since then. Lifetimes. You're different now. You've had plenty of experience in the interim, but still, something about this makes you feel like that shy eighteen year old all over again.

You wonder if he can hear how loudly your heart thuds in your chest.

Yoongi is warm and solid beneath you, hands gently squeezing your hips like he’s anchoring you with touch alone. He doesn’t rush you. He lets you lean in first, lets you fumble a little with the angle.

A nervous, airy laugh bubbles up as your teeth bump his, clumsy. You try to pull back, but Yoongi’s already there, chasing your mouth with his own, kissing that breathy sound right off your lips.

It's deeper now. Yoongi tilts his head, infinitely more sure of himself than you are, his hand rising to cradle the back of your neck. His thumb brushes softly over the hinge of your jaw as his tongue sweeps into your mouth. The moan that escapes you is quiet and surprised, and Yoongi swallows it like he was waiting for that too.

The kiss goes molten fast. His lips drag over yours with more force now, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth with a practiced tug that makes you squirm. Your hands slide up his chest on instinct, clutching at the collar of his hoodie, pulling yourself closer like you can’t get enough.

You lose track of time like that—lost in the press and drag of lips, in the wet glide of tongue against tongue, in the dizzying rhythm of inhale, exhale, moan. He kisses you until your head spins and your lips feel raw, until all you can do is lean into him and hope he doesn’t stop.

And he doesn’t. Not once.

Not until your body finally starts to relax fully into his—until you’re pliant in his lap, pliant under his hands. Only then does Yoongi let his touch begin to explore.

His palms coast up your back, warm and steady, mapping the curve of your spine through your shirt. Then back down again, pausing at your waist to squeeze softly, his thumbs pressing just hard enough to make you shiver.

“C'mere,” he rasps, and you go without thought.

You scoot further into his lap until you feel the firm press of him beneath you—thick, half-hard beneath layers of fabric. You whimper softly, overwhelmed by the realization that he's just as turned on as you are.

Then his hands rise, smoothing over your ribs, up, up, up, until they cup your breasts through your shirt. You aren’t wearing a bra, a fact you’re keenly aware of now. His thumbs brush over your nipples, light and exploratory at first, and it shocks a gasp out of you. You arch instinctively into the touch, a whimper slipping from your lips.

Yoongi hums low in his throat, pleased. His thumbs stroke again, then circle, finding the peaks with more intention now. His fingers catch the buds through fabric and pinch, just enough to make you cry out.

The pain lances through the haze of pleasure, clean and bright and shockingly good. You can’t help the way your body responds, arching slightly, pushing into his touch for more. You feel his cock twitch beneath you.

“Mmm,” he murmurs against your lips, his grin audible in his voice. “Fuck. Look at you.”

His lips drag across your jaw, your neck, teeth grazing the curve of it.

“You want me to touch you?” he rasps.

“Yeah,” you say, airy and high. God, you don't even sound like yourself anymore.

“Yeah?” He noses along the column of your throat. “Want me to touch this cunt?”

The vulgarity of it makes your stomach swoop. Your insides clench in response, and you suck in a sharp breath, eyes fluttering shut.

You nod jerkily, unable to manage more than a quiet “mhm.”

But nothing happens.

You blink your eyes open. His hands haven’t moved. He hasn’t gone lower. Hasn’t slipped them between your thighs like you’re aching for.

“Yoongi…?”

“Show me how bad you want it,” he says, tilting his head at you. “Go on.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

Yoongi leans further back into the cushions, spreading his legs a little wider. The motion draws your gaze down, your breath hitching when you get an eyeful of… well. Your best friend's raging boner.

Holy shit.

“You’re a smart girl,” he says, cool and casual. Holy shit. His hand comes up to nudge your chin, forcing you to tear your eyes away from his dick. “Figure it out.”

Does he want you to…? You should ask, right?

“Should I—“

“Figure. It. Out.”

You take a shaky breath, overwhelmed. With the state you're in now, your brain feels like it's been reduced to mush, and the mental math that he's asking of you seems impossible. He wants you to grind on him, right? To rub yourself against his dick to show him how desperate you are to cum? That’s the only possibility, you think.

You're impossibly turned on, you are, but you don’t know if you’re ready to cross that line.

“Hey,” he says, softer now, as if sensing your inner turmoil. “What's your color, baby?”

Of course he can sense it, you think. That's literally his job, isn’t it?

“Green,” you breathe, shaking yourself out of it. “Yellow…? No, green, I think. It's just… You're so hard.”

“Well, yeah,” he huffs, gently tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “That'll happen.” He pauses. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

You shake your head. "No!” Nooooope. “No, it's not that. I just don't know… I don't know if I wanna touch you yet.”

“Okay,” Yoongi says easily. “I'm not asking you to, baby. You don't have to do anything you don't wanna do.”

“Then how do I…?”

He sighs. “I told you, you're a smart girl. All you have to do is show me how bad you want to cum. I don't care how you do it.”

You bite your lip, rolling the thought around in your mind.

“You wanna keep going?” he asks, smoothing his hands over your thighs again.

“Mhm. Good. Green. Just… thinking.”

“Take your time.”

You do take your time.

You sit still in his lap, trembling just enough that he probably feels it, and try to sort through the static in your brain. His hands stroke along your skin, slow and patient, grounding you without rushing.

You inhale deeply through your nose. Exhale slowly through parted lips.

You’re okay. He’s right there. He’s not asking for anything you’re not ready for. You trust him. You’re okay.

And you want this. You want to feel good. You want to let go and stop fucking thinking so hard.

You finally lift your hips—just a little—and shift, adjusting your weight until one leg is between his and you’re fully straddling one of his denim-clad thighs. You feel the way he tenses slightly beneath you in response.

Then you settle again, your cunt pressed directly to flexed muscle. His body heat seeps into you through the fabric, and your body pulses with anticipation.

Yoongi doesn’t say a word. He just watches. Waits.

Your face burns with embarrassment. You’ve never done this before—not like this. Not with someone watching, encouraging, asking you to perform your own desperation like a show.

But that’s what he wants. And fuck, you think it’s what you want, too.

You don’t move right away. Your mind’s a mess, your stomach churning with a confusing cocktail of nerves and want and shame.

But then, slowly, hesitantly, you rock down. Just once. An experimental drag of your clothed core over the muscle of his thigh. It’s barely anything, but with how worked up you've become, it feels incredible.

You press your palms against his chest for balance and rock again, a little firmer this time. Then again, and again. Your breath punches out of you when the seam of your shorts catches just right, dragging across your clit through layers of fabric that feel far too thin now.

You whimper, face burning. The friction is maddening—delicious and not nearly enough. But it’s something, and you want more.

So you keep moving.

Through the fog of your arousal, you realize that you’re soaking through your panties already. You can feel it, spreading between your thighs with every roll of your hips.

You have never, ever been this wet with another person before. Not in your life. Not from so little.

He hasn't! Even! Touched you!

Yoongi exhales through his nose, a soft, amused sound. He still hasn’t moved, but his eyes are locked on your face, watching every flicker of emotion, every twitch of pleasure. He only speaks when you start picking up speed.

“Shit,” he murmurs, licking his lips. “You’re really fucking going for it, huh?”

Shame covers you like a blanket, but you don't stop. It feels too fucking good.

“Didn’t take much, did it?” he drawls. “Don't know why you were so worried.”

He chuckles under his breath, like he's genuinely amused by how fast you're coming undone for him. His thumb rubs soothingly at the crease where your hip meets your thigh, the only touch he offers, and it makes you feel even more ridiculous—because you're coming apart at the seams. You're panting and grinding and soaking through your clothes, and all he's done is fucking watch.

“I mean, fuck,” he goes on. “Maybe I should just make you get yourself off like this. Seems to be doing the trick.”

You shake your head with a whimper, because no. No, you don't want to cum like this.

“No?” he asks in mock-surprise. “Don't like that?”

“No,” you gasp.

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head.

“Maybe if you weren't humping my leg like a bitch in heat, I'd believe you.”

Fuuuuuuuck.

You falter, your rhythm breaking.

The words burn, but they burn so good. Sharp and humiliating in a way that makes you hypersensitive. It's like your every nerve ending is suddenly tuned to his voice, to the steady flex of muscle under your core. Your clit throbs, your panties clinging uncomfortably to your soaked folds.

He must notice the way you slow, stunned into a daze, because without warning, his fingers land lightly against your cheek. It's enough to snap your attention back to him instantly.

“Focus,” he says evenly. “Don’t get shy on me now.”

Heat blooms from where he tapped you, spreading down your neck, into your chest, straight between your legs. Your cunt clenches helplessly around nothing, and all you can think of is that fucking video you watched the other night. The way the woman mewled when she got slapped.

Right now, in this moment, you understand exactly how she felt.

“Oh my god,” you moan.

Yoongi watches you carefully, head tilted.

“Liked that, huh?”

You shake your head, then nod, then shake it again. You’re not sure what you’re trying to say. The heat in your face is unbearable, and your breath is coming too fast for your words to get out.

“Color,” he says, but it comes out rough, like a growl.

“G-green,” you pant.

“Say it, then,” he says. “Tell me what you want.”

You close your eyes, ashamed, but you try to focus and do what he says.

“I—” You swallow. “Can you… can you do that again?”

“Do what, baby? Be a good girl and ask me properly.”

Shit.

You inhale shakily. “Will you hit me again?” you ask, barely managing to meet his eyes. “Harder? Please.”

For a moment, he just stares at you. Then, finally, he breathes out slowly. His fingers slide back to cup your face, deceptively gentle, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“You understand what you're asking for, right?”

You nod.

“I want it,” you murmur. “I promise.”

His hand lingers there, cradling your jaw tenderly, and for a moment, you think he’s going to pump the brakes. Kiss you breathless again and tell you you're not ready. Until his fingers flex.

Smack!

The strike lands cleanly, with enough sting to jolt your head slightly to the side. It makes your eyes water and your breath catch in your throat. The sound echoes between you, loud in the quiet. It reverberates through your skin, into your chest, and down, down into your cunt, tightening every muscle there.

“Fuck,” you gasp, blinking away your tears.

Your thighs tremble with the effort of holding yourself upright, and your hands scrabble against his chest for something to hold onto.

“Shit, look at you,” Yoongi breathes, his voice thick with something between awe and lust. “You liked that. You really liked that.”

His hand strokes up the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair firmly. You take the action for what it is and hold the fuck still, not daring to move a muscle.

“You want me to touch you now?” he murmurs.

You manage a jerky nod of your head, but Yoongi doesn't chastise you for not using your words this time.

“Okay, baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to your open mouth. “You fucking earned it.”

His free hand slips under the leg of your shorts. The backs of his knuckles press against the soft fabric of your underwear, right over your center. Then, slow and deliberate, he drags his fingertips along the seam of your cunt, letting the soaked fabric catch against your swollen clit.

“I thought you said getting wet was a problem for you,” he teases, eyes flicking to yours. “Doesn’t seem like it to me.”

A pathetic, strangled moan breaks free from your throat.

“Yoongi,” you gasp, tears springing to your eyes from the overwhelm.

Yoongi leans forward, his breath tickling your ear as he speaks. “You wanna cum, baby?”

You nearly sob. “Yes,” you manage. It’s all you want. “F-fuck, please!”

“Oh, baby,” he coos. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ll get you there, don’t worry.”

Then his fingers press more firmly against the soaked fabric of your underwear, rubbing firm circles over your clit.

You cling to his shoulders like a lifeline, fingers digging into the fabric of his hoodie. Your hips start moving again without you even thinking, chasing the rhythm of his touch, and the noise that leaves your mouth is shameless.

“Ohhhhhhh fuck,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut. “Oh my god—“

“Fuck yeah, look at you,” Yoongi says, voice rough with awe. “You're so close, aren't you?”

"Mhmm!"

“Just let it happen, baby. Don’t fight it.”

You’ve heard that before. Just let it happen.

You’ve told yourself that before, over and over, and it usually ended with you blinking up at the ceiling, frustrated and hollow. Your body used to clamp down at the last second. Panic would creep in. Pressure. Expectation. That awful voice in your head whispering what if it doesn’t happen again? And the moment you’d think it, it was over. Gone.

But right now…

Your hips rock helplessly into his hand, grinding down to increase the pressure, to keep the friction right where you need it. You’re panting into his shoulder, face buried in the curve of his neck because you can’t even look at him anymore.

“Oh my god,” you moan, voice breaking. “Oh my god, oh my god—”

“I know,” he murmurs, mouth brushing your temple. “I know, baby. You’re doing so good. Stay with it.”

You’re right fucking there.

And it doesn’t feel like the weak, flickering kind of almost-orgasm you’re used to. Not the one that fades the second you notice it.

This one starts low in your belly—a deep, tightening coil that feels like it’s winding up from the inside out. Every circle of his fingers pulls it tighter. You claw at the fabric bunched at his shoulders.

“Yoongi,” you gasp. In response, his fingers press just a little firmer, and your body jerks hard in his lap. “Oh—!”

Your thighs clamp down around his hand, around his thigh, and your hips stutter wildly as your body tries to chase it and brace for it at the same time. You feel tears sting your eyes.

“Don’t think,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. “C’mon. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Your orgasm hits like a dam giving way.

There’s no delicate crest, no fragile tipping point. It crashes through you in a violent, overwhelming rush that makes you gasp like you’ve been punched in the lungs. Your entire body seizes—hips jerking forward, back arching, fingers clawing so hard into his shoulders you hear his responding hiss.

A sob tears out of you.

Your cunt pulses hard under his hand, clenching and clenching and clenching around nothing, and it doesn’t stop. It just keeps rolling through you in wave after wave after wave, each one stronger than the last.

Your thighs are shaking so badly you can barely hold yourself up. Your hips buck helplessly into his fingers, chasing friction you don’t even need anymore because it’s everywhere.

Years.

It’s been years since it felt like this. Since it felt like something was being released instead of forced. Like your body wasn’t performing, wasn’t cooperating out of obligation.

You cum so hard it makes you dizzy. So hard it blots out everything else. The room around you. The couch beneath your knees. The fact that you’re sitting in your best friend’s lap.

All you feel is pure, overwhelming relief.

Your muscles finally give out, and you collapse forward against him, shaking, breath coming in ragged little gasps. Yoongi eases you through it, softening the pressure as the aftershocks ripple through you, letting you ride it all the way down instead of cutting you off too soon.

“That’s my good girl,” he coos into your hair. “So fucking good. There you go, baby.”

Your face feels wet against his neck, and you realize that you’re crying. Not big, dramatic tears, but quiet ones, leaking out because your body doesn’t know what else to do with the intensity of what just happened.

Yoongi must feel it, because his hand slides from between your legs, coming up to cradle the back of your head instead. He holds you there, chest to chest, your heartbeat hammering against his.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Color?”

You drag in a shaky breath. It takes a second to find your voice.

“Green,” you say, almost laugh-sobbing. “So fucking green.”

You feel emptied in the best way. Like the pressure that’s been weighing you down for years is just… gone. Like you can finally breathe.

Yoongi exhales against your temple, something like relief threading through the sound. "Told you I was confident in our chances."

a/n 2: so it begins… things are just gonna get freakier and freakier from here on out LOL i hope you’re all ready for it 😈

the next chapter doesn’t have an established drop date yet—i’m going to be focusing on price of fame for a bit—BUT i’ll try to have it out as soon as i can!

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Date No. 7: The Birthday Suit

Oh this ate.

You’re appraising yourself in the mirror, a smile spread across your glossy lips in satisfaction.

The black dress you’re wearing is from a recent pull-out, the designer being one of your industry friends. It’s off the rack but somehow fits you like it was tailored with intent. A slit reveals just enough leg when you walk. The bodice molds your breasts like they were measured for it. Tae called it Bridgerton boobs when you Facetimed him earlier just to vibe check.

You like this look. Sexy, sophisticated. You hope Yoongi likes it, too. Because well, you like Yoongi. No question. You like him a lot.

He’s been amazing these past few days, doting on you regularly as if you’re harboring a more serious disease and not just dysmenorrhea. He even came over once, offering you hot soup and even hotter kisses, before he had to go back to his studio.

You do wonder how to move things along. How to progress. 

Seokjin’s birthday party seems like the perfect night for it.

The restaurant is glowing when you arrive. Low golden lights, crisp linens, florals arranged. It’s full without feeling crowded, laughter spilling from every corner, wine glasses clinking softly. It feels warm and alive. 

And then you see him. And if you wolf whistle what will his friends think of you?

Yoongi’s posted up near the bar in a dark suit that looks custom-made for ruining your panties. Terrible, really. His jet-black hair falls in soft waves like he woke up unfairly handsome on purpose. He flips his jacket backwards and plants his hands on his hips, flashing a gunmetal Valentino belt holding up pants you are already mentally kicking off him and onto the bedroom floor.

He turns the moment your gaze heats up the side of his face. And for a second, he just stares. Just looks at you like all the thoughts swirling in your brain are also swimming in his.

Then, his mouth curves into a slow, devastating smirk.

“Fuck,” he says when you reach him, voice low, eyes unapologetic as they track you from head to toe. “You look… unreal.”

You lean forward and press your cheek against his and you feel his arm circle your lower back lightly. A kiss would have been nice, but you think Yoongi’s not one for PDA, especially in a classy place like this.

“You look hot. But I think you know that already…” you raise a brow, then glance down to the bartop where 11 digits and a name are written on a piece of napkin. 

Huh.

Women move fast. But wait, he’s not embarrassed that you clocked this. Not one bit. This cocky mf wanted you to know that he’s been wanted.

His tongue skirts his bottom lip, failing to prevent a shit-eating grin from forming. 

Was it to make you jealous? Because you’re not. But a twitch inside your chest and a little further south says otherwise.

You’re still not saying anything, still locked in a staring match. Cat-like eyes study you from the rim of a lowball. You’re unfazed, waiting for him to say or do something.

Suddenly, you see a flash movement from the corner of your eye. Jin, the man of the hour, spots you from across the room and makes a dramatic beeline over, grin wide and pleased.

“You made it,” he says, eyes flicking briefly to your dress. “I was worried Yoongi would fuck things up before my birthday.”

Yoongi warns. “Hyung.”

You laugh. “He’s been a good boy. Mostly.”

The napkin’s still there.

“Lies,” Jin says cheerfully. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

“Wouldn’t miss the birthday of Yoongi’s favorite hyung,” you reply. 

“Careful,” he warns with a delighted grin, glancing between you and Yoongi. “You know he has an older brother.”

“Well it’s not his birthday…”

“Ah.” He wags a finger. “You’re already my favorite guest.”

A heavy palm is deposited on Jin’s shoulder making him tilt sideways. “Behave, hyung.”

“I refuse.”

“The place is beautiful,” you say, just to change the topic, smiling as you scan the room, but fully unaware of the staring match the two boys are having.

“You fit right in,” Jin replies coolly and when you glance back he has a very sticky top 5 bachelor kinda grin waiting for you.

Hang on. Is Jin flirting with you right now? In front of Yoongi?

The stare your not-boyfriend is giving Jin could melt the polar ice caps. But Jin is non-plussed.

“C’mon… is it not my birthday, Yoongi-yah? Let me have my fun.” Jin says, eyes still bright with mischief.

Yoongi doesn’t even look rattled. He exhales through his nose, something close to a laugh, and replies evenly, “Have all the fun you want, hyung.” Then, without breaking eye contact, he adds, “but don’t you have other guests to attend to?”

It’s said casually, but Yoongi’s hand slips to the small of your back as he speaks, warm and firm, drawing you closer until your hip fits neatly against his.

Jin’s grin sharpens, reverting to you. “See? He’s learning.”

As Jin peaces out, you feel the press of Yoongi’s thumb at your waist, and it hits you then: how funny it is that earlier you clocked that napkin on the bar, the number scribbled like a quiet provocation. But standing here now, tucked into his side, you realize the balance has shifted.

If anyone’s being quietly undone tonight, it’s him. And judging by the way his fingers flex once at your back, dipping a little lower, this evening is about to get a lot less polite, if you play your cards right.

“So what was that about?” You move to sit on the bar stool, placing your clutch on the bar top.

“What?”

“You and Jin, talking in telepathy. I noticed that too the first time you took me here.”

Yoongi sighs like he is already tired of talking to and about his hyung. You know it’s just poorly masked affection. “You met at the magazine shoot, right?”

You hum.

“And he got your number…”

You nod.

Truthfully, you don’t remember a lot about that day. It was a full day that started at 4 in the morning and Jin was the last of the lot when your energy reserves had almost whittled down to zilch. But still you remember the rack of delicious strawberries and the nice banter with Jin that came easily. He seemed like a solid guy so you didn’t mind matching his vibe even though you were dead tired.

“Yeah, I guess he said he needed a stylist for future projects.”

“He, umm, gave me your number after that actually. Told me about this cute stylist that hummed my song who seemed pretty cool.”

“Your song?”

“Eight. I produced it.”

Oh…

Your favorite song. Well one of. But still. Didn’t you play it on your hiking date? 

“That’s amazing.” You quip, but then your smile twists into a pout. “But you never texted me?”

“Honestly? I wasn’t really looking to start something with anyone back then.” He exhales through his nose. “But they kept pushing me to put myself out there.”

“Fair.”

“Jin-hyung loves to remind me that he found you first.”

“You know, I do find him… handsome.” You dangle the last word just to see his reaction.

He shrugs it off. Casual. But certain. “Doesn’t matter…”

“Is that right?”

“He may have met you first, but,” Yoongi’s leaning in close, lips brushing your ear just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “We both know who’s gonna fuck you first.”

Oh shit.

Food and drinks were amazing as to be expected from a Michelin star restaurant. And the company is also wonderful. There’s no awkwardness. No sense of being an outsider. Yoongi’s people greet you easily, already warm from your previous interactions. Namjoon pulls you into a conversation about wine pairings like you’ve always been part of the group. Hoseok compliments your dress with zero subtlety and a dramatic hand to his chest. Jimin hands you a drink you didn’t ask for but absolutely wanted.

Taehyung arrives fashionably late and immediately steals attention, but instead of hovering near you or Yoongi, he’s pulled almost instantly into chaos with Jungkook and Jimin. Within minutes, they’re deep in conversation, already laughing like they’ve known each other forever.

Later, you catch Tae’s eye across the room. His grin is boxy and genuine.

You smile. Yoongi notices.

“Looks like your best friend’s doing fine.”

“Yeah. Knew he would. He’s a social butterfly.”

“And you? Are you having fun?”

“Yeah,” you admit softly. “I really am.”

His fingers trace a slow, absent line along your waist, thumb brushing the edge of your dress like it belongs there. You lean into him, instinctive.

“I’m glad,” he says. “I want you here. With me.”

The words land heavier than he probably intends.

As the night winds down—dessert plates cleared, candles burning low—you find yourself standing with him near the edge of the room, his arm draped loosely around your shoulders, your hand resting at his side. It’s comfortable. Intimate. Unquestioned.

You look up at him.

He’s already looking at you.

“Come home with me tonight.” 

It’s not a question, but the tiny raise of his brow tells you he is waiting for your response.

“Yeah. I’d love to.”

And finally It feels like the next chapter opening. The beginning of the part you’ve both been craving for.

“Yoongi… fuck—”

He pulls you back into his chest with a firm grip, one hand sliding possessively around your waist while the other tugs at the ribbons of your dress, fingers confident and unhurried as if he studied how quickly he can unwrap you all night. You wouldn’t put it past him.

His mouth finds the slope of your neck, tongue dragging hot and slow against your skin, leaving you gasping before he latches onto the tender spot just above your collarbone.

You’re so wrapped in the heat of his tongue and the low sounds he makes in your ear, you don’t even notice the top of your dress slipping down—until the cool air hits your bare skin and his hands are suddenly there.

Warm palms cup your tits, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, letting it snag against his blunt nails. You whimper, hips canting back, and he groans at the sound, mouth moving to your ear. He sucks your earlobe between his lips, then lets it go with a soft pop, his breath fanning across your cheek.

Goosebumps rise all over your skin, and you’re falling apart with every single touch.

You don’t know how you made it to his bedroom—you don’t even really know what it looks like—just remember stumbling backward with him chasing your mouth, pulling at your dress until it’s on the floor.

He’s still fully clothed, but his eyes are dark and wild now.

You pull him back in for a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth and breathless sounds. He groans when you bite his lip.

“You look way too good in this,” you murmur, fingers curling lightly at his collar, tugging him close. “But I want it off.”

You press your hands to his chest, feeling the crisp fabric of his suit jacket beneath your palms. You slide your hands up to his shoulders and push the jacket backward, watching it slip down his arms and drop soundlessly to the floor behind him.

He tilts his head. “You wanna help me?”

“Mmm… No,” you say, stepping back just a little, biting your bottom lip playfully. “I wanna watch you.”

He chuckles, the sound low and deep in his throat.

God, you need this moment to loop in your brain. Watching Yoongi undress for you may just be your favorite fucking thing in the universe.

He tugs the knot of his tie loose with practiced fingers and your mouth dries at the flex of his neck. You don’t look away for a second—not when he slides it out from under his collar, not when he lets it dangle from his fingers before…

He drapes the necktie around your neck like a leash and pulls you towards him, your body following without resistance.

“Mine,” he says and you draw a breath, kind of dumbstruck as he tightens the fabric just ever so slightly. You wear it like a medal.

Your eyes follow every motion as he pops open the top button of his shirt, then the next, and the next, each one revealing more milky skin, more of the toned planes of his chest. By the time he reaches the fourth button, you’re already reaching out, greedy and unable to wait any longer. You slide your hands under the open placket, pushing the shirt off his shoulders and down until it pools at his feet. 

His belt and trousers follow, falling with a heavy clink. He’s bare now, save for the black boxer-briefs clinging to his hips, a trail of hair disappearing and leading into a noticeable bulge.

Oh.

Your eyes rake over him shamelessly. “Fuck you, actually.”

He raises a brow. “What?”

“You made me wait so long,” you mutter, running your hands down his chest, over the pebbled tips of his dusky nipples. “I could just devour you right now.”

He grins. “We’re here now, aren’t we?”

You maneuver him onto the bed, letting the mattress catch his weight before you climb over him. He has this wry smile on his face, like he’s letting you do this, take command temporarily, and you have a feeling he's switching up on you when you least expect it. Still, your thighs straddle his hips, heat pooling low as you sink down—barely clothed, but completely burning.

Your fingers twist into his hair as you rock against the hard line of him, both of you groaning into each other's mouths at the friction.

"Fuck, you feel so good,” he rasps, low and labored.

His hands are on your ass, your waist, your thighs, your tits, your hair, any surface he can grab on to. You don’t know what’s come over either of you. It’s gotten frantic and uncoordinated fast—the kind of desperation that only months of holding back could breed. You grind harder, now chasing your high shamelessly. But finally, he comes to his senses, planting both hands on your waist to ease you off his pelvis.

“Baby, stop–we gotta slow down.” he says, voice strained but resolute. “Please.”

You collapse against his shoulder, laughing through the burn of your need, body still thrumming. “Oh my god.”

Because you’re both a mess. Slick with sweat and arousal, tangled in each other, like horny teenagers dry humping in your parents’ basement with zero shame and zero game.

“This is your fault.” You boop the tip of his nose with your index finger.

“How is it my fault?”

You huff dramatically. “Why didn’t you fuck me on our first date? Were you not into me?”

“It was the first date,” he replies, like that should be obvious. He really is such a gentleman.

“And the second?” you press, eyes narrowing.

“We had raw fish,” he says flatly. “Lots of it.” You don’t know if that’s a valid one, but you let it slide, because you want to hear his answers for the rest.

“Third? We literally made out in the club.”

“Nah, you were out of it. I was, too. Wouldn’t be right.”

“Fourth?” you challenge, now counting on your fingers.

“It was mid-workday,” he counters. “You were still on the clock.”

You smirk, leaning in closer. “Rather be on the cock.”

Yoongi groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ–”

“Fifth date?” you fire back, unfazed. “You were super handsy. Don’t even deny it. Thought you were gonna finger me on the trail.”

“Was about to, yeah, if the maknaes didn’t crash our date. Your body was insane in those leggings.” He licks his bottom lip, hands spreading over your thighs before giving the plush flesh a firm squeeze. “But, you already know I strained my back from our descent.”

“Thought it was your knees?”

“Shut up,” he grits, tickling your sides, making you squirm. “Both hurt like a bitch. I guess I’m getting too old for it. And before you mention the sixth, I blame Taehyung.”

You nod, sighing. “I got my period too. That’s on me.”

Yoongi looks at you, voice suddenly softer. “Wouldn’t have minded if you really wanted it.”

You pause, eyes searching his. “Yoongi?”

“Doesn’t it help with cramps or some shit?” He just stares back, gaze quiet and sure. “I was reading something about it last week.”

Shit, why do you feel so shy? 

“I don’t even know what to say about that.” 

His fingertips trail the curve of your breasts, catching on your nipples and giving them a soft pinch that sends a jolt straight to your core. “Truth is? I didn’t stand a chance with you. I would've given you anything you asked for.”

You're gushing again, breath shaky as you inch closer, lips brushing against his. “Except your cock.”

“Don’t dwell on the past, baby.” He smiles against you before he slides his lips fully against yours, hungry and messy, licking into your mouth like he is savoring the taste of you.

Air leaves your lungs when he sucks your tongue and continues to roll your nipples between his fingers, your hips bucking haplessly to feel the friction of fabric against your clit.

“Yoongi…”

“Mm?”

“Need you… need to feel you inside me.”

Yoongi’s eyes flash. He reaches toward the nightstand, but before he can grab what you know he’s after, your hand wraps around his wrist—gentle but firm. A silent message.

“Oh?” His brow quirks, a snarl unfurling. “You nasty, huh?”

When he says it like that? You’re a blushing mess, but you press on. “I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.”

He licks his bottom lip once, before that infuriating smirk takes over. “Got it. You want it raw?”

“Stop teasing me,” you whine, squirming against him, but he’s got you locked in his embrace. “I haven’t fucked in so long I’m basically a virgin again…”

“You’re so—” Yoongi lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “You’re insane.”

“I haven’t fucked in so long I self-cleaned like a Roomba.”

He chuckles, lopsided and low. “Oh, you’re just full of jokes tonight.”

“Rather be full of cum.”

That earns you another groan. “Nah,” he decides, eyes darkening. “You know what? I think I need to have my fun first. You gonna let me?”

You nod, half-sure. 

Then he tugs you gently by the tie still hanging on your neck, making you lock into his deep eyes. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“If it gets too much, let’s use a safeword.”

“Sugar cube.”

“Perfect,” He nips your lip. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

Before you can process what all that means, he’s moving you—effortlessly maneuvering your body until you’re draped over his lap, ass up, like some bratty girl about to be taught a lesson.

Wait. Are you?

Shit.

You gasp as his palm smooths over your skin, gliding over the soft curve of your ass, dipping briefly between your thighs before moving back up. Just the weight of his hand, big and warm, is enough to unravel you. Then, he slips his fingers under your panties, grabbing a fistful of your flesh, squeezing it like a squish toy.

“Fuck, this ass…”

You let out a breathy moan, loving the roughness, the way he handles you like you’re just his favorite plaything.

But then—crack!

He slaps the underside, quick and unexpected. You yelp, high-pitched and breathless, your hips jerking forward against the bed. The sting is sharp, and you’re suddenly feeling so fucking alive, Hs palm then cups the same spot, massaging it gently. 

Then, another slap. Sharper. You cry out again, not from shock, but because of the force. Your hips twitch, because it hurts and your body is anticipating the ache. But once again, he follows with a slow, delicious rub that makes your tippy toes curl. It’s messing with your head–the strike and the soothe that follows.

“My baby sounds so pretty like this,” he murmurs, voice rich with amusement. “You like it, don’t you?”

You bury your face in the pillow, breath catching. “Fuck… yeah. I like it.”

“Mm,” he hums, dragging his fingers along the curve of your thigh. “Good. Cos I’m just getting started.”

You could die from anticipation and arousal. Thankfully, Yoongi doesn’t make you wait long. He tugs your panties snug between your cheeks, the fabric biting deliciously into the heat of your skin. It’s filthy, the way it exposes you even more, the way he takes his time to admire your body.

“You’re dripping, baby…” he murmurs, almost to himself. Like he’s marveling. Like he’s proud.

Of course you’re dripping, is he joking? But you bite your tongue since you are already in a precarious position. A whimper huffs out when his nails drag lightly, just barely, across your flushed skin. Then—smack!

Another sharp slap, perfectly placed, and the burn flares through your body like a live wire. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your breath ragged and a little desperate.

“God damn,” he mutters, smoothing a hand over the mark, admiring his handiwork.

You groan into the pillow, aching, but aching for more. “Yoongi, please.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” he leans down, kissing your bruised backside gently. “I’m gonna give it to you, but can you take a few more?”

“Yes, I want more…” You really do. You’ll even count if he asks. The need is overwhelming, to be so good for him. Like his—

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He pulls your panties down gently, making sure the lace doesn’t drag across the redness.

But he is a menace, letting the fabric settle by your knees and not removing it all the way. His hand is splayed at the tops of your ass cheek, shaking it like he is wanting to go into hypnosis.

“I love your ass.”

“Really? I didn’t notice…”

“Don’t be a brat.” Yoongi chuckles, and another thwack lands on your cheek, the pain duller, but deeper. It’s blossomed now, like a bruise you want to keep poking just to feel it again. Tears start to blur your vision but when you expect another spank, it doesn’t arrive. Instead, a finger prods your slick folds and soon enough, his bony knuckles breach your entrance.

Fuck, finally. Fuck.

 A strangled moan escapes your parted lips. 

It’s relief. But it’s also unlocking a hunger, all-consumming and urgent, to take more.

His index moves in and out of you, while his other hand slaps and makes your ass jiggle. He adds his middle digit to your sloppy center, the squelches of being finger-fucked filling the room.

The feeling is unfamiliar, but divine—this cocktail of pain and pleasure. Brain shutting down, you already know it’s not going to take long before you reach your peak.

You crane your neck to catch a glimpse of him. So fuckin’ sexy, his lips are flushed from being bitten, jaw tense with focus as he works your body with single-minded intent, determined to push you right to the edge of euphoria. 

He catches your eye, still at it, then he tilts head, “Still trust me?”

“Yes…”

You’re curious now. Like what other tricks does he h—Holy shit.

Suddenly his thumb is pressed against your rim, rubbing it in tight circles as his other hand continues to assault your pussy with his fingers.

“Feels nice.” You breathe out, mind melting in bliss.

“Yeah? Wanna feel nicer?”

His thumb, glossy from the slick gushing from your cunt, slips inside your tight ring of muscle.

“Ah shiiiit!” You wail, raw and animalistic, hips jerking reflexively.

What the hell? You don’t expect the blinding rush of pleasure from being penetrated there.

“Yoongi, fuck— I’m coming.”

And in the multitude of sensations, in the countless layered shades of want, need, and something deeper—you hear the single thing that cuts through it all: his command. 

“Come.”

Your body locks up, thighs trembling as your orgasm hits you, sharp and blinding, until it feels like stars are bursting behind your lids. The high is so celestial, it almost feels like you slipped out of your body for a second and came undone somewhere above. When you come down, every muscle melts at once.

Yoongi’s voice is the first thing that reaches you again, soft with praise as he lifts you gently from his lap and lays you down on your belly, careful and tender.

His pretty face comes into view beside yours, lying on his side. “How was that, baby?”

“10 out of 10, no notes,” you slur, still drifting in and out of your zone, but locked in enough to ask for what you really wanted. “So can you fuck me now?”

Brows scrunching, Yoongi lets out a soundless chuckle that makes his shoulders shake. “Can you even move?”

“No… but you can hit it from the back.”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, but his boxers disappear, thickened cock flopping against his soft tummy.

Look. If dicks had beauty pageants, Yoongi’s would take the crown. Long, with the kind of girth that makes your lips split just thinking about it; it leans just a tad to the right, curling enough to hit the spot. A prominent vein runs along the underside, flushed deep purple, leading to a tip that’s glistening. It’s the kind of cock that you need inside you, like yesterday.

Glad you didn’t overreact. Actually, no. You do. You literally dive for it as if someone else might snatch it away any second, gripping his shaft with a little too much gusto. Yoongi groans from deep within his chest, before letting out an amused chuckle. Yeah, his ego has increased ten-fold with your antics.

You shimmy your body towards him, hoisting your body with both palms to make the cushion dip. You let a trail of warm saliva drip from your lips, coating his cockhead, before your mouth descends upon him in one smooth stroke.

“Hell yeah,” he tips his head back, exposing the line of his throat and the tendons flexing in his neck.

Your mouth is watering again, making spit dribble down his length. It’s disgusting how you're blowing him so sloppy, lips wrapping in a tight seal around his cock and slick fingers on parts you can’t mouth over yet.

"Knew you’d be good at that," he murmurs, one hand scrunching your hair as he guides your gaze up to him—just so you can see how much he’s relishing the way his cock bulges against your cheek. “You dirty girl.” 

Maybe you too have tricks up your sleeves. In one fluid motion, your tonsils kiss his mushroom tip and you swallow, gagging against it, salty with pre-cum.

Chest heaving, Yoongi drops your hair to pool on the side of your shoulders as his breathing gets more ragged. “Oh fuck–”

You bob faster, sucking the velvety skin at the base and keeping the suction until his head rubs at the roof of your mouth. He’s so close, you can feel it in the stuttered cadence of his breathing. In the way his hips are lifting from the cushions, helping you take him deeper.

Do you? Should you…? The question whether to finish him off like this is answered with a slight tug of your hair, before you ease off him with a wet pop.

You look at your masterpiece. His already huge dick seems to have grown in size, so hard it looks painful, the tip flushed an angry crimson.

He heaves a heavy exhale, as if he read your mind. “I’m fuckin’ close, but I been waiting on that pussy.”

“It’s yours.” You swipe a knuckle on the side of your lips, nodding. “How do you want me?”

“Just like that,” he smirks. “You don’t gotta move a muscle.”

Yoongi hovers behind you, his palms smoothing firmly down your back, then eases up as it travels down the globes of your ass, still flushed and stinging from his earlier assault.

Lying on your belly, you gasp as he takes you from behind, cock still swathed in your saliva to plunge inside your sopping pussy with little to no resistance.

You squirm, cheeks still raw, stinging with every movement as he bounces against your ass. The pain is starting to feel addictive, but still your body writhes with each pump of his pelvis.

“Relax baby, I want it all the way in,” he presses a quick kiss on your shoulder, gentle as ever, before he bucks hard and bottoms the fuck out, taking you by surprise.

You scream, pornographic and loud. It hurts, but it hurts good, and your body is simply not yours anymore. You’ve relinquished it to Yoongi as every push of his cock drags heat around your every vertebrae, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Yoongi sits on his heels and hoists your ass up, stuffing a pillow between you and his bed before he’s pounding you again.

The change of angle lessens the friction against your burning cheeks but it doesn’t stay that way for long.

Like a man possessed, he pistons into you at a consistent pace, smack after smack landing on your ass before he grips you by the hips and really goes to town.

Your vision mists at the edges, the grip you have on his sheets tight enough to crumple the fabric as you hold on for dear life. 

“Yoongi… shit… Yoongi…”

“Keep saying my name like that… fuckin’ love it.”

“Yoongi, I wanna cum so bad…” you babble. “Please, baby, I can’t take it anymore.”

“Play with your clit, baby. Rub it for me just how you like it…”

You slip a clammy finger between your folds, the motion of him rocking into you enough to stimulate your delicate nub deliciously.

You moan, twitching, already teetering on the edge of delirium. Every inch of your skin feels scorched, like you’d peel it from your bones if it meant finding the slightest relief.

And just when you think you’re spiraling too far to come back, it hits—your breath catches, chest tightening, airways constricting.

Yoongi yanks the necktie back, forcing your body into a perfect arch, spine bowed, helpless to anything but sensation.  

“Come with me, baby,” he grunts.

You choke, already dizzy, lightheaded, then he thrusts deep, one final time, and releases.

His climax tears through him, taking you with him in a blinding crash as you feel the warmth of his cum flooding your walls. And just like that the grip on the fabric loosens, and air rushes back into your lungs like salvation.

Your body floats in a haze of something close to euphoria. There’s something warm and fluffy expanding in your chest, tingling across your skin.

You’re unable to put it into words how perfect it is to be so thoroughly seen, touched, wanted by Yoongi.

And it’s not just the high of your multiple orgasms (though that was a beautiful bonus). It really is the ache in your ribs from breathless laughter, the tender kisses he plants on your forehead, the gentle way he hugs you tight. Everything else in the world is secondary.

You bury your face on the pillow, thoughts clouding your mind. When you open them again, Yoongi is already moving carefully around the room. 

You wince slightly when the gentlest cloth dabs your skin clean. He’s working quietly, just the soft sweep of fabric along your ass, your legs. 

Then comes the shirt, placed over your head to replace the sinful accessory, and a loose pair of boxers he eases up your legs. Both smell like Downy and home.

You’re quiet, too. Words unable to assemble and be spoken out loud, lest it breaks the fragility of the moment. So focused on after care, Yoongi brings a straw up to your lips. You blink at him, as cool water douses your ragged throat, and he gives you a look so tender it knocks the breath from your lungs.

“Thank you, baby. You were perfect,” he says softly, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “So good for me. Every second.”

He doesn’t just kiss you once—he kisses your lips, your jaw, your collarbone, the hollow of your throat, the corner of your eye. Loving and gentle, not to stoke the dying coals, but to soothe and settle your fiery heart. 

Eventually, he tucks you beneath the covers and slides in beside you, curling his body around yours. You don’t even try to fight the sleep that’s pulling you under as his arms wrap solidly around your waist.

And as you pillow your heads together in the quiet, you finally understand why this feels different, unlike anything with any other partner. This wasn’t just sex. This is trust. This is respect. This is intimacy. Real and raw.

The kind you didn’t think was meant for people like you. Until him. Until now.

EPILOGUE

Date no. 8: The Satin Pajamas

“What are you wearing?” You plant both hands on your hips.

“My pajamas.” Yoongi responds, deadpan. He’s reading a book, eyeglasses perched on top of his shiny button nose.

“Let me rephrase that. What are you wearing and why are you trying to seduce me?”

He smirks, still doesn’t look up. “I’m doing no such thing, baby.”

The pajamas. They’re dark gray and satin and a matching set. Harmless, right? Wrong. Because the problem with this smooth, thin, satin is even if Yoongi is at rest, you can still make out his dick print.

And now you wanna make out with it.

“How very dare you.” You’re shimmying your own cotton pajamas down, leaving you in your panties. You have thoughts. And you’re leaning on acting on those thoughts. i. e. About the smooth glide of that fabric against your bare pussy. Fuck, you’re so hot and bothered for him it’s really embarrassing.

“Fuck, this thing feels amazing.” You breathe out as you slide against his body, bare thighs brushing against his clothing. 

He just chuckles.

You run your palms against his chest and when you see his nipples starting to perk between your digits, you plop your mouth on one and suck against the fabric.

The fuckin’ book finally closes and is tossed aside.

“Shit your mouth.”

You nod. “Mhm… where else do you want it?”

“You know where.”

You slink down, mouth his cock against the fabric, your saliva making a deeper shade bloom against the satin. You hook your index on the garter and pull the waistband down for his pretty cockhead to pop out. 

You lick him all over, do your best to take him deep enough to swallow against his tip.

You’re getting into it now, determined to give him the motherfuckin’ head of his life when you’re yanked off his length.

“Nah,” he says, like he just had a thought. “You get up here and take your panties off.”

You take his spot by the headboard, crotch bare for him now. He’s hovering over you, palms braced on either side of your thighs. 

“I didn’t get to appreciate this last night.” He says, lips trailing against his bottom plush, mere centimeters from your wet, aching cunt.

“Then appreciate it. With your mouth.” You suggest with a little smirk.

“Brat.” He delivers a quick little spank against your puffy lips, your legs closing on instinct against his head. “Nope. You’re gonna keep this nice and open for me.”

You show yourself again to him. A slow, torturous flick of his tongue against your clit and you’re unraveling in real time. His mouth suctions on your throbbing core, setting a controlled but dizzying pace which he alternates with long flat licks of his tongue. The realization that he kept his fuckin’ glasses on sends you skyrocketing. You’re practically oozing now, drenching his sheets, and he just laps you up, drunk and high on that pussy juice, not wasting a single drop.

“You taste so good, fuck.”

lick

“Love this cunt.”

lick

“Who owns this pussy?”

meow

Wait what?

You come face to face with green eyes and a Victorian collar.

And so it was your turn to ask: “Who owns this pussy?”

Yoongi surfaces from your depths, chin glossy as the black cat slinks towards him, tail swishing against your face, making you sputter out the fur that made its way in your mouth. Uh, rude?

“Me,” he says, giving the cat a little pat on the butt. “And the entire condo I guess. This is Tang-ie.”

“You forgot to tell me you have a whole living creature in this house?” you ask, moderately scandalized.

“He’s kind of an informal settler. Likes to hop from one condo to another,” Yoongi explains. “We all kind of just pitch in if he chooses to stay with us.”

Tang is actually a really adorable cat, if he isn’t staring at you like a tiger about to eat its prey. It’s a little jarring, if you’re gonna be honest.

Yoongi is none the wiser. Just continues to pat pat his cat’s bum bum, utterly distracted now. This man really has a fascination with spanking, you realize, wincing a little as you still feel last night’s after-effects.

“Yeah, um, should I leave you two alone, or?”

Yoongi eyes you before releasing a shoulder-shaking laugh.

You finally remember to close your legs. How embarrassing.

Yoongi carries Tang off the bed, setting the cat outside before he closes his bedroom door with a muted click.

“Don’t be jealous of the cat, Y/N.” He says, sounding very matter-of-fact, as he pads back to the bed.

You roll your eyes, reaching for the blanket to cover your bare half.

“Stop,” he says, snatching the gray blanket and tossing it on the floor. “We’re not done.”

You curl in on yourself and face away from him.

Yoongi positions himself behind you, pressing his forehead against the back of your neck. “Can I eat you out now?”

You break your silence with a huff. “I dunno. Is it your favorite pussy?”

“Of all time.” he says, the smile apparent in this tone, adding. “I love it when my girlfriend is a little jealous.” 

The word hits harder than anything he said all night.

“I’m your girlfriend?” you ask, turning sharply.

He goes a little pink. “Oh—uh, I mean…”

You lean in, brushing your nose against his. “Yeah,” you murmur. “I am.”

His smile comes slow this time. Not cocky. Not teasing. Just sure. Like he’s been holding the word in his mouth for a while, waiting for the right moment to let it live between you.

“My girlfriend,” he repeats, softer.

And you let him.

You let him say it when he kisses you.

When he makes you come.

When he tucks you into his chest like you belong there.

My baby. My girlfriend. Mine.

You let him say it when the two of you sit cross-legged on the floor later, phones in hand, deleting Hookie without ceremony. Neither of you has any use for it now.

Because this—soft sheets, sore muscles, swollen lips, a soft-spoken man and his snobbish cat—feels nothing like a hookup.

It feels like the first love you used to imagine.

Soft. Safe. Certain.

And finally, it’s yours.

:)

A/N: Aaaand that’s a wrap on H&B. Thank you so, so much for sticking with me through it all.

I have to say, this concept was a little hard for me to warm up to in the beginning and then it just started clicking. Planning the dates and correlating it with iconic Yoongi fits were probably my favorite thing about this series.

So what did you think??? See you in the comments and please reblog this with your review if you enjoyed. It’s the best way you can show your support. 💜

Thank you for reading you lovely, beautiful human xo

Lastly, I do take ko.fi if you’d like to support what I do. <3

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Then he resumed, tongue gliding up your dripping pussy in one slick motion, before giving it a wet, smacking kiss, and diving in tongue-first all over again. You jolted upward with a cutting exhale, but he held you in place easily, fingers curling into your hips. 

While he was busy with that, your hands fumbled for your phone until you found it. Panting, you checked the screen with cloudy vision.

It was your brother. 

“Fuck,” you whispered sharply, fisting Jungkook’s hair and pulling him away. His head jerked up, an annoyed glint in his eyes. 

“I told you they can wait,” he muttered, already pushing your phone away. 

“No, look.” You showed him the screen. “It’s Jimin.”

At this, he actually stopped. It was two in the morning and you hadn’t come home yet. Given Jimin’s protective nature when it came to his little sister, it was no surprise that whoever you ended up being with at this ungodly hour would have to face his wrath.

Even if it was Jungkook, who happened to be his best friend. 

“What should I do? I told him I was going out with some friends,” you said, shivering from the sudden coldness of the room, the heat in your womanhood subsiding from the sheer panic of the call alone.

Jungkook was exhausted.

How many times had Jimin unknowingly cockblocked him again? Since that fateful day in the car where you had confessed to him and destroyed all remnants of self-restraint, you and Jungkook had been clawing at any opportunity to get your hands on each other—to no avail, of course.

First, it was after you and Jungkook went on your very first proper date. It was simple; a movie at the cinema, dinner at a cozy Italian restaurant, and then a long drive to a secluded parking lot to watch the stars—and potentially fuck around a bit. Then, Jimin called and insisted that you had to get home in no less than ten minutes, or else he’d have the head of the guy who had you out so late (you told him you were on a date, but you did not specify with who).

Next time, it was when you were moving into your college dorm. You needed an extra car to take your stuff; Jungkook had one. Trying to sneak in a quickie in your dorm’s bathroom was maybe not the best idea, but you looked too good in your low-rise denim shorts and hot pink tank top. Sue him. Of course, you didn’t let him get too far—Jimin was only gone for a few minutes to grab something from the car, anyway.

The most recent incident was two days ago. Jungkook had been begging you to go on another date with him since it had been an eternity since the last one (it was one week), but you declined, citing Jimin as the reason why. 

“If some guy wants to go on more than one date with you a week, he has to man up and meet me first,” Jimin had said, apparently. “That fucking greedy coward.”

But alas, now you were finally alone with him in his apartment—naked, horny, and unbelievably irresistable—and there was no threat of anyone finding out, unless you picked up Jimin’s call.

So, Jungkook decided to be reckless. 

Just this one time.

⤷ taglist: again, feel free to comment, reblog with a note, or send an ask with the fic name if you'd like to be tagged! thank you so much for reading!!! much love <3

“You’ll always be a kid to us,” Jimin said. “You’re basically Jungkook’s little sister by extension, at this point.”

“Gross.” You shoved Jimin playfully, laughter spilling out of your mouth. “One nasty, overprotective  brother is enough. I don’t need two.”

“Looks like you have no choice,” Jungkook taunted, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“Whatever. Let’s go.” You turned away with a huff. “And brother?” You asked, facing Jungkook. “Why don’t you go tell mom and dad that we’re ready to leave?”

“You grew up to be so sassy.”

“You see, I just took after my brother,” you replied, making air quotes. Jimin snorted.

“Touche,” Jungkook said, flicking your forehead. “Sure thing then, little miss.” And he was off. 

 Jimin and Jungkook had been best friends since you were in seventh grade, meaning that they’ve seen you through all of your worst phases. The phase where you thought tucking sweaters into high rise shorts was cool. The phase where you would follow every text with a capitalized “LOL,” even if there wasn’t anything to laugh out loud about (e.g. “Where are you going LOL,” or “Can I come LOL”). 

There was one thing that wasn’t a phase for you, though, which was your big fat crush on Jeon Jungkook himself. 

You couldn’t help it. He was always so effortlessly cool. Even though he was only three years older than you, it was easy to put him on a pedestal. You liked the way he absentmindedly fiddled with whatever was in his hands, be it his phone or a pencil. You liked the way he tilted his head snappily whenever he got competitive. You liked how he would fight for silly little things like the TV remote or the last carton of banana milk as if his life depended on it.

When he first started hanging out with Jimin, the most you would do was nod to each other politely. But as time passed and he started becoming a face you’d see everyday, you two also grew closer, eventually exchanging friendly conversations and tubs of ice cream on family movie nights. 

The unfortunate matter, however, was the fact that he always treated you like a kid. He’d say things like, “Maybe I’ll tell you when you’re older,” or “You’ll see when the time comes,” always putting distance between you two. 

It didn’t help that you were the youngest child in an extremely coddling family, and that you’ve always been babied. There was never a bag or a box that you carried yourself, no item that was placed too high out of your reach – although your family did run on the shorter side – and no educational opportunity that your parents would let you miss out on.

That included this one-year joint program between your university and a university in Italy, where you’d study abroad for one year before finishing the next three years at home. It was the only thing you ever had to beg your parents for, but of course, they eventually reluctantly relented as they always did.

That brought you to now.

The last thing you saw before turning around and heading towards the security check-in line was: your teary-eyed parents, Jimin, who was anxiously waving at you, and Jungkook, who had an unreadable expression on his face. 

Truthfully, the idea of having to live all by yourself for one whole year and somehow stay alive terrified you. But you weren’t about to let it show in front of your parents, who were already near the brink of collapse just imagining you having to board an airplane by yourself.

So, you gave a bright smile and waved, before pivoting on your feet and trotting away, luggage in hand, ready to start a brand new chapter in life. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

You boarded on the plane to Italy with an oversized grey sweater, skinny jeans, and hair that was haphazardly air dried as you finished up the last of your packing.

You boarded on the plane from Italy with a full-on blowout, thanks to your heatless sock curls, wearing a hot pink tracksuit that was purposefully zipped just enough to reveal the tiniest sliver of cleavage. 

The difference in how you left and how you came back was jarring.

You owed your transformation largely to your roommate, who had graciously lent you almost all of her hair and beauty supplies upon your first night out together. She basically transformed you overnight, turning you unrecognizable. 

“Okay, we have to go shopping,” Mina had said. “You look way too good right now to not look like this everyday.”

Thus, you embarked on a journey of learning how to do your makeup for the first time, how to perfect heatless overnight curls, and how to dress in a way that accentuated your body’s best features. Thanks to not having your parents and your overprotective brother (plus his best friend) breathing down your neck every time you went out, you were confident enough to play around with riskier styles.

Eventually, you were also confident enough to start playing around with men.

With the encouragement of Mina and the ignorance of your family, you learned a lot about the art of seduction. But despite the various adventures you had with men (and the occasional woman), you never went all the way. The most you’d done was oral, but usually, your adventures would come to an end with making out in the back of a club. 

Penetration was a big no-no for you, and most of the time, you could play it off by saying that you were scared, or that it was your first time. Luckily, the guys you were with liked that even more, saying that you could take it slow and try again next time – except you would ghost them before there could be a next time.

 You treated it like a study. What got them hooked? What made them stay?

You easily learned how to get a man wrapped around your finger: act pretty, be needy, and use lots and lots of spit when giving head. Smile with a stupid look on your face. Tease with downward stolen glances. And laugh – a lot – even if nothing was funny.

Needless to say, you came back feeling and looking like a whole new person. 

Jimin wasn’t too excited about it. His first words to you when he picked you up from the airport were:

“Are you really my little sister?”

You laughed, throwing your bag to the back of the car, grateful to see a familiar face. 

“How about a ‘nice to see you’ or a ‘how are you?’” You buckled your seatbelt as he gave you a once over. 

“You better put on a jacket or something before we get home. Mom and dad are gonna kill you if they know you’ve been dressing like this.” He started driving, letting his favorite pop playlist hum in the background. “I’ve been seeing your stories, Y/N. Looks like you had a lot of fun there.”

“Meh,” you sighed, rolling down the window. “I had fun, but I missed home a lot. I’m glad to be back.”

Jimin smiled at you fondly. 

What he didn’t know, perhaps, was that there was a very specific reason why you were so excited to be back: Jungkook.

As someone who had been crushing on him for nearly seven years, you were quite attentive to his love life – or whatever of it you could figure out in between conversations that hushed down whenever you entered a room. Or sometimes, your brother would bring over a large group of friends and you’d pick out which girls Jungkook tended to gravitate towards. 

To summarize your findings simply: he liked edgy girls. 

He liked girls who were the perfect balance of daring and playful – someone that could step on him and still look as feminine and sweet as ever. He didn’t like girls who were too uptight, too serious or smart – although another of Jimin’s friends, Namjoon, did. He didn’t like girls who didn’t know what they wanted, like an indecisive deer.

In short, you used to think that there was no way he could ever come to like you as is. 

You were always shielded by your overbearing parents and brother; most of the things you wanted to do or try were quickly put to an end if deemed even slightly scandalizing.

Daring and playful were out of your vocabulary. 

For example, you couldn’t leave the house with shorts on if they were too far up your thighs. Crop tops? In your dreams. Spaghetti straps? Your parents would rather you get hit by a car.  Sleepovers were a no-no and friends had to be carefully handpicked and screened through Jimin before they could even come over. 

The occasional boys who were interested in you never had a chance. You had tried dating some guy back in the eighth grade, but that was promptly shut down by Jimin, who said you were way too young to even look at guys. Thus, the only guys you had ever hung around were Jimin’s friends. 

But if you were being honest, you didn’t really mind that part.

What you minded, was your complete and utter inability to feel like an adult.

But now, there was no denying it. You’ve had your taste of freedom, finally, and you were a thousand times more confident now than ever before.  Finally, your parents stopped trying to micromanage every part of your life (although they did give occasional scoffs at your attire, they were mainly just happy to have you back home).

You used to think that adulthood was about knowing how to do taxes and how to master the art of parallel parking, but from your time abroad, you found that adulting was less about figuring out the world around you, but rather, figuring out yourself.

You always wondered: what kind of music did you like? What style suited you? What were you good at? What were you bad at? What was so you? And conversely, what was so not? You didn’t have it all answered, but you learned quite a lot.. 

You liked hiphop more than jazz. You looked better in low-rise jeans than in high-rise jeans, but you looked good in any kind of skirt. You were horrible at public transportation but great at making friends with strangers. Purply-pink lip gloss was so you. Dipping fries in ice cream was so not (seriously, you wondered how the hell Mina enjoyed it).

Taxes were still a mystery to you. Parallel parking even more so (you almost died trying to park a golf cart at the edge of a hill in Spain). But you loved learning  a little bit more about yourself everyday, and maybe that was what becoming an adult really meant.

And now, you finally felt ready to tell Jungkook how you felt. 

You were sure that at the very least, getting it off your chest would lift a burden that you had been carrying since seventh grade. You could either get with your lifelong crush or finally move on and live life with the confidence you had only ever dreamed of before.

However, you weren’t just going to waltz up to Jungkook and tell him that you’ve been practically in love with him for nearly half of your life.

Of course, you had to go about it in a much more exciting way.

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

The first time you saw Jungkook after you returned from Italy was at graduation.

Jimin and Jungkook were finally going to see the light of the real world as tax-paying citizens, but you could only see them as the same dorky boys who would get way too excited over video games in the middle of the night.

Your choice of clothing was strategic: a plain white dress that hugged your body — but wasn’t too short — with a pair of red kitten heels. It was pretty, but not tragically sexy.

When you saw Jungkook in the crowd, chatting with some friends, you made a beeline for him.

He turned to you instantaneously, as if sensing your presence, and expertly caught you in his arms as you gave him a big bear hug. He smelled of old spice cologne.

“Congratulations, idiot,” you said into his fluffy black hair as he lifted you slightly off the ground. “I never dreamed that this day would come.”

“Well hello to you too, little miss Italy,” he chuckled, putting you back down. “Thanks, Y/N.” His eyes scanned your face, then briefly looked downward. “Wow. You’re all grown up now.”

“I said the exact same thing.” Jimin appeared from behind, arms crossed. “So Jungkook gets a congratulatory hug but not me? Jeez, I can totally see who your real brother is.”

A laugh tumbled out of your belly. “C’mere you shortie!” 

You all but tackled Jimin (nearly) to the ground, a fit of giggles and smiles, comfortably fulfilling the role you always had: a well-meaning, slightly bratty little sister. Your dress rode up a bit, exposing the more scandalous part of your upper thighs, but you paid no mind. Only Jungkook was looking at you two, anyway.

You let Jimin and Jungkook go congratulate and take pictures with the rest of their friends. You stayed back with your parents, taking candids from afar and engaging in friendly conversation with Jungkook’s parents who always adored you.

It was later, at home, where you would strike.

After what felt like hours of festivities, snapping polaroids and shaking hands and connecting with people on LinkedIn and whatnot, the boys finally returned home. Jimin mentioned earlier in the week that they would binge Marvel movies together to commemorate many years of friendship and completing a pivotal chapter in their lives.

It was nearly three in the morning; you were lazing around your room when you heard the familiar sound of Iron Man’s suit-up theme song, and you decided to make your move.

In the mirror, you gave yourself a once over. You were wearing tiny satin shorts that hung low on your waistline. To go with it, a white spaghetti strap tank top that was tight enough to show the curve of your breasts, but thick enough to keep your nipples a secret despite not wearing a bra. 

As predicted, when you went to the living room, Jimin was fast asleep. Iron Man was his least favorite, while it was Jungkook’s number one superhero movie ever. Jimin laid on the couch, cuddled in the corner while hugging a random throw pillow.

Jungkook turned to you. “Sorry, did we wake you?” He was wearing a black t-shirt with those baggy grey sweatpants that you always drooled over. 

“Not at all,” you replied, making your way over. “I wanted to watch this part of Iron Man, too. It’s my favorite.” 

He was sitting on the couch, and you took a seat on the floor near him, making sure that if he looked down, he’d get a clear view of your shoulders and cleavage. You saw the remnants of a charcuterie board on the coffee table, and you lit up when you spotted some of your favorite cotton candy grapes.

“Can I have some?” You whipped around to him, eyes big and excited. 

“Sure,” he chuckled, motioning to you to have whatever you wanted. You didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on down to unknown territory for a brief moment, no doubt noticing your new sleep attire.

You watched the movie for a while. 

“So, how does it feel to be an adult, now?”

“It doesn’t feel real.” He sighed. “You better enjoy your time in college. It goes by so fast.”

“There you go again.” You rolled your eyes, putting a grape into your mouth. “You’re treating me like a little kid. You’re not that much older than me, you know?”

“How could I not?” He retorted with a laugh. “I’ve known you since you still liked My Little Pony.”

You threw a grape at him. It smacked him in the face but he caught it and promptly chucked it in his mouth with a satisfied smirk.

“It’s a good show,” you said, quieting your voice to a hush to remind him that Jimin was still sleeping only a meter away. 

He was silent for a moment. “But you really have grown up a lot. I feel like I’m looking at a different person than I did last year.”

You smiled. “True.”

“How was it, by the way? Your time abroad?”

You started going on a tangent, explaining all the fun events of the year. The trip to Spain where you almost crashed a golf cart. The time in the Netherlands where your umbrella broke in the heavy rain. The time you nearly failed one of your classes since you didn’t know that attendance was mandatory (you passed since you did great on the exam). 

“Sounds like a lot of fun,” he commented. “You went on these trips mainly with your roommate, right?”

“Yeah.” You popped a final grape into your mouth. “Some other friends too. There was also Mateo, Cindy, and Max who joined us from time to time.”

You didn’t turn to see his reaction to the names. As far as he knew, you had never had guy friends before. In fact, he had even helped Jimin on the rare occasion to scare them away from you in high school. But you wanted him to feel far away from you. You wanted him to feel like you were someone completely new – worth learning more about.

“I kind of want ice cream,” you declared. “Want some? I think we have Ben & Jerry’s.”

“Sure.”

You stood up, pretending to be slow and cautious to not wake Jimin, when in reality you just wanted him to take a good long look at your ass. 

You took out ice cream from the freezer and forgoed bowls, opting to just grab two spoons and eat straight from the pint. You returned to your position on the floor by the couch, turning around to face Jungkook and handing him the other spoon.

“Here you go,” you said quietly.

“Thanks,” he whispered. 

From his point of view, you were sitting below him, looking up with your wide eyes as you licked your spoon clean of chocolate chip ice cream, the tub balancing treacherously on the pillow by him.   A drop of ice cream dribbled down your chin, which you clumsily wiped with your thumb, before proceeding to suck it clean. 

Iron Man was still playing in the background, but both you and Jungkook had watched it millions of times together already. You sure as hell weren’t paying attention to the movie, but pretended to. 

When you turned to watch the screen again, you found ice cream in your hair.  Feigning a huff of annoyance, you started putting your hair in a ponytail so it wouldn’t be in the way. You took your time, arching your back and making sure that Jungkook could get a good view of your body from above. 

At some point, a strap of your tank top fell, exposing nearly your entire shoulder. You didn’t make any effort to pull it back up. Then, you resumed, alternating between watching the movie and turning to get a bite of ice cream. At some point, you were leaning against his leg, teetering closely to laying your head in his lap. 

He didn’t move away, even when your bare shoulder was gently pressed against the soft fabric of his sweatpants.

Throughout all of this, you hadn’t said a single word to Jungkook. Nor did you glance at him to check his expression. Only when the movie ended did you speak to him.

“I’ll put the ice cream back and clean up,” he offered. 

“Sure thing.” You stood up. “You crashing on the couch with Jimin?”

“Looks like it,” he said slowly. The darkness made it hard to read his expression. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night night,” you said, making yourself seem sleepier than you were. “See you around, Jungkook.”

Then, you returned to your room, and had a long, restful sleep with dreams of waking up in his arms. 

You had no idea what he could possibly be thinking or feeling, or if he even noticed that you were being a little more daring than usual. 

But it was precisely the unknown that excited you. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

It was in the middle of the summer when you saw Jungkook again. Jimin brought him over to celebrate their first paycheck. Jimin was signed at a well-known dance agency, and Jungkook was due to start his job as an assistant producer for some film studio soon. On the other hand, you were preparing to finally start your university life in your home country. 

You were clearing out some stuff, putting clothes and books you didn’t want in a bunch of boxes to make the move to your dorm later in the month easier. 

They were in Jimin’s room when you knocked softly on the door.

Jimin opened it. Jungkook smiled when he saw you and you gave a polite nod in acknowledgement.

“Hey guys, can someone help me move some boxes to my car? I want to drop them off at the donation center.”

“How many do you have?” Jimin asked.

“Just a few,” you said. “But they’re really heavy.”

“Seems like a job for the muscle pig,” Jimin said, stepping away to gesture to Jungkook as if he were a grand reveal. “Kooks, you’re up.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes and grunted, but you knew he loved being called that. You giggled.

“One of these days, I’m taking you to the gym with me.” Jungkook motioned towards Jimin.

“Dancing is already a form of exercise!” He yelled, but you and Jungkook were already walking to your room.

There were only three boxes, but you purposely made them as heavy as possible so you had no choice but to ask for help. One was slightly lighter than the others, so you took that one. Even then, it was so heavy that you barely made it to your car without face planting.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was as nonchalant as ever. He lifted two boxes with ease, forearms flexing and highlighting veins that you were sure could lead to Rome if you took the time to trace them.

By the time you got to your car, you were panting and sweating. The walk from your room to the garage had never been so long. 

He laughed in your face. “Maybe I should take you to the gym, instead.”

“Whatever,” you replied, turning away with a tired huff.

“I don’t even get a ‘thank you?’” He challenged you in mock offense. “You’re not doing a good job of debunking the ‘spoiled little girl’ rumors.”

“I said whatever!” You retorted, already making your way to the car door. “I’ll have to carry all of these into the donation center myself, anyway. Not like you did that much work.”

He paused. “You could hurt yourself, you know. Those boxes are way too heavy.”

You hummed in consideration. “Then I’ll just ask a strong handsome guy nearby to do it for me.”

His face paled. The thought of you approaching some random guy was like a shockwave through his body. He had never pictured anything like it.

Conversely, you looked entirely unfazed, as if this were a normal solution to most of your problems: just asking a man nearby. He gritted his teeth as you hopped into your car and slammed the door shut. 

“Thanks anyway, though!” you said brightly, rolling up your window with a wave. 

Before you could leave, he marched up to your door and knocked three times. You rolled the window back down.

“I’ll go with you and help. The center is only ten minutes away right?”

You smirked.

Everything was going according to plan.

The drive to the donation center was filled with lighthearted conversation. Jungkook explained what he’d have to do at his new job, how nervous he was about working in a professional setting for the first time, and how excited he was to finally make his own money. You updated Jungkook on your housing situation, explaining how you’d live in the dorms during weekdays but come home for the weekends. You shared the experience of meeting your new roommate, then groaned over how much you missed Mina.

It was always so easy with him; he laughed at your jokes no matter how absurd they were, and you humored his ego by agreeing with whatever he said – unless it was actually outrageous, like when he said that he thought he might be the reincarnation of Princess Diana (rest in peace, beautiful soul).

When you arrived at the donation center, you made a move to leave your car, but Jungkook promptly halted you with a grab of the wrist.

“Just stay in here. I’ll do it.” He unbuckled his seatbelt.

“What happened to those ‘spoiled little girl rumors’ I was trying to debunk?” You grinned.

He scoffed. “Before that, I have my ego to protect. No way I’m letting you carry those boxes again. I genuinely thought you’d fall down the stairs and die earlier.”

“Suit yourself,” you said, leaning back in your seat and whipping out your phone. 

He gave you a satisfied smile before leaving the car. Your tone might have been sarcastic, but really, you were beaming.

This was another thing about Jungkook that you liked. As cocky he could be, he was always the perfect gentleman.

While waiting for Jungkook to get all the boxes inside, you pulled down your mirror and looked at yourself. You were wearing a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a white tube top. At your neck, you adorned a lovely gold necklace that you thrifted in Rome.

It didn’t look too lovely right now, though, as it was a tangled mess around your neck, a clump of knots where the heart-shaped centerpiece of the necklace should be. That was on purpose.

You started fiddling around with it when you noticed Jungkook returning to your car. When he hopped in, you turned to him, gesturing to the mess at your fingertips.

“Hey, can you help me untangle this? I can’t see it very well.”

Jungkook looked at you cautiously, before leaning in to take a closer look. “Okay, sure. You’re always giving me chores to do, aren’t you?” 

You giggled, leaning forward so he had easy access to the necklace. Of course, it would be easier to take it off before untangling it, but that would kill all the fun. If Jungkook realized that there was a better way, he said nothing of it.

His fingers gently pulled at the chain, hands brushing against your chin and collarbone. His focused gaze made you nervous. Your insides tingled every time his skin touched yours. 

Your tube top was riding down, revealing more of your chest and your Victoria Secret Bombshell push up bra.  Occasionally, his pinky would gently graze your upper breast. You didn’t say anything about it and neither did he.

“This is one kinky knot,” he commented, face so close to your collarbones that you felt his breath hit your skin. 

Your eyebrows raised at the choice of words. You put your hand over his.

“It’s fine. I’ll just untangle it at home.”

His hand lingered on the chained knot for a bit longer than you thought necessary. You might have had your provocations planned out, but you weren’t really sure what to expect of it. The thought of his next move had you nervous – and you were sure he could tell by how your voice suddenly started sounding small.

“Suit yourself,” he said, echoing your earlier words.

The drive home was a little bit more awkward than usual. If you felt it, he definitely did too.

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

Jungkook was sure he was losing his mind.

His best friend’s little sister? Really? 

He thought he was better than that. Sure, he may have found you cute for a while now, but it felt wrong – almost illegal. 

He remembered first meeting you, when you were so shy that you could only look at him for a few seconds before disappearing into your room. You were just an endearing girl to him, not anyone capable of sending his heart into mayhem.

Then, as you got older, he realized that he actually quite loved the way you laughed so loud, so charmingly, when he talked. He found your bratty stubbornness cute sometimes, like when you demanded that Jimin let you play Minecraft on his account because he got you banned while using yours. Or, when you helped him insist that Iron Man was the best movie of all time, even though Jimin was sure it was the Amazing Spiderman.

Once, earlier in his friendship with Jimin, you were sick with food poisoning. Jungkook didn’t quite understand why Jimin was freaking out so much. But then he came to visit and saw you lying in bed, door wide open in case you needed to run to the bathroom to puke, and he started to understand.

You looked like a bundled up kitten in your bed, lying on your side with a fever patch on your forehead and a book in your hand. Maybe it was then that he started to realize his feelings for you.

But of course, you were always out of reach. Too young and too precious. Jimin loved you to bits and wanted to protect you for as long as possible. Jungkook could at least honor that, he thought. So of course, Jungkook had his adventures with other girls here and there. Nothing too serious, but fun enough to keep his mind off you.

Until you came back, and suddenly the lines started to blur. No longer was there a clear distinction between you – the little sister you – and the you that could make Jungkook’s heart skip a beat.

Before it was easy; reminders of your innocence were everywhere. Sure, you could still be a stubborn brat, but now, it was like you were practically begging him to get his hands on you with the way your eyes seemed to devour him alive, unapologetically.

Your shoulders drove him insane. Your laughter seemed fuller, healthier, and happier. He didn’t know you had such a beautiful body after years of only seeing you in baggy, oversized clothing. Your Instagram stories made his heart pinch.  

It killed him that he felt like he didn’t know you anymore – not really at least. 

And all he wanted to do now was find out everything he missed out on this past year. 

After the tangled necklace incident, he couldn’t get his mind off you. And his final straw came in the middle of the night when you called him. He had just showered, getting ready to hop on a quick video game before going to sleep. He smiled at his phone.

Usually, you called him to ask him a stupid question, like: how did you come up with your Princess Diana theory again? Or, did he think Jimin would notice if you drew a dick on his face tonight? Better yet, how mad would he be?

But today was different.

“Yo,” he answered. “What’s up.”

“Hiiiiiiiii.” You giggled, clearly drunk. The laughter of other people could be heard, too. Jungkook didn’t miss the sound of other guys in the room with you.

“Where are you?” He immediately stood up.

“Club,” you answered simply. “Can’t find my friends. But this guy said he could drive me home. Should I go?”

“Do you know him?”

“A little. I know that his hair smells nice.”

At that moment, a male voice could be heard from the other side, saying something vaguely along the lines of: “Gonna get to hit tonight, man.”

Jungkook clenched his jaw. “No. Don’t go. Which club are you at?”

He was already pulling his hoodie over his head when you answered:

“Dunno. I’ll send you my location, though.” You laughed again, pulling the phone away from you to say, with a playful chuckle: “Jackson, stop!”

He had to do everything he could to not crash out. “I’ll be there soon,” he said, checking your location. You were ten minutes away. “How drunk are you?”

“Just a few shots.”

He didn’t know your drinking tolerance whatsoever, but he knew he hated the idea of you being drunk around a bunch of horny men. 

It took Jungkook nearly every bone in his body to not go over the speed limit. When he finally arrived, you were sitting on the curb outside the club, and of course, there were two guys sitting with you. One guy’s arm was around your shoulder. 

Jungkook didn’t even care to go into the parking lot, opting to leave his car right at the front entrance. He marched up right to you, making brief eye contact with the guys.

Your face was ruddy with alcohol when you looked up at him. 

“You’re here!” You broke out into a wide grin, vodka-induced strength sending you leaping up to pull him into a hug. 

“Yes, I’m here,” he said, patting your back as he all but death glared at the other two guys. “Let’s get you home.”

“Okay,” you said, surprisingly calm. “Bye Jackson! Bye Mark!” You waved cheerfully as Jungkook took your hand.

You didn’t get to see them wave back at you as Jungkook quickly tugged you, urging you to walk fast.

“Don’t mess around with guys like them, Y/N,” he commented as you settled into the passenger seat. “Didn’t Jimin and I tell you? Men are vile creatures.”

“You did,” you confirmed. “But maybe I can be the judge of that.”

He clenched the steering wheel harder, slowly driving out. “Whatever.”

It wasn’t his place, he chided himself. You weren’t his real little sister. How could he tell you who to mess with and who not to?

A few minutes into the drive, you spoke up.

“Can we go to the gas station? I want a milkshake.”

At the redlight, Jungkook smirked at you. “You sure you won’t throw it all up after?”

“Positive.” You grinned back. “I bet it’ll help me sober up.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

What Jungkook didn’t know was that you were already pretty level-headed, just putting on a drunk act to make yourself seem more vulnerable. You only had two shots of vodka and one glass of gin & tonic. A part of you liked being dragged around angrily.

He relented to your request for milkshake, pulling up to the gas station’s fast food drive through. You ordered a strawberry milkshake, while he got a banana chocolate one. He parked the car in a secluded part of the station.

“You have work tomorrow?” you asked in between sucking your straw.

“Tomorrow is Saturday, silly.” He was already almost halfway done with his. 

“Oh, right.” 

You continued to devour your milkshake, letting Jungkook’s RnB playlist fill the silence. When you were almost done, you took off the lid and started pouring whatever strawberry syrup was left into your mouth.

You tapped the bottom of the cup – a little more harshly than you needed – to get the stubborn parts down. After one especially strong tap, a wave of melted milkshake and gooey syrup came tumbling down, drenching your chin and dribbling down your neck and body, effectively soaking yourself in the sticky mixture.

Jungkook barked out a laugh. “Oh my god, that was so stupid,” he teased, pulling out his phone to capture the moment in a 0.5 picture.

“Not funny! Stop that!” You pouted at him, covering the camera. He snapped several photos before returning the phone into his pocket. “Do you have tissues?”

At this point, the milkshake remnants were also dripping down your cleavage and onto your thighs. Your outfit today was a low cut white halter top with a black mini-skirt, and somehow you managed to spill the substance only on your skin and not on your clothes. 

“I think I have some,” he said, finally recovering from his fit of laughter. “Move over.” 

He leaned over you, arm reaching towards the compartment above your knees. You leaned back, but felt his hair brush against your arm. He eventually found two flimsy napkins, reserved from previous takeout adventures. 

You took them gratefully, starting by wiping your chin and neck. But by the time you got to your chest, the tissues were already slimy and unusable. Your skin glistened with the sticky liquid drying on you. 

“No more?”  you asked, pitching your voice up high.

Jungkook’s tongue probed at the inner side of his cheek. He had been looking at you this whole time. “No.”

His answer was simple but powerful. 

Typically, in this kind of situation you’d expect Jungkook to still be heartily guffawing at your predicament. But instead, his jaw was locked, gaze piercing. 

“But I’m so sticky,” you whined. “Do you have water, maybe?”

He slowly pulled out a water bottle from his side’s door compartment. “I do. But won’t you make a mess?”

“Don’t worry,” you said, taking the bottle from him. “Thanks,” you added quietly, suddenly nervous.

You poured a small bit of water on your hand and slapped it on the spots that still had milkshake on them. At this point, you really were making a mess in his car. 

“It got even stickier,” you said after a moment, defeated.

He laughed a little, but still couldn’t take his eyes off your form. “Need help?”

The voice that came out of you didn’t feel real. “Yes.”

Slowly, he reached over, taking the water bottle out of your hand. Using the sleeve of his hoodie, he started patting you down, starting with your jaw, to your neck, and to your collarbones.

He was oh-so gentle, wiping away with so much caution you thought you could dissolve right then and there. When he reached your cleavage, he hesitated. 

“There, too,” you whispered. 

Slowly, he took his sleeve and wiped in between your breasts, patting them down tenderly. You could feel the warmth of his hand through the cloth of his hoodie. Your belly flopped. 

This was unknown territory, and he wouldn’t stop exploring it.

“Down there, too.” You didn’t mean to sound as needy as you were.

“Fussy, aren’t you?” His usually light and airy voice was replaced with something closer to a grunt.

His hands slid down to your thighs, with more intention this time. You let your legs open slightly, giving him easier access. The tension you felt was so thick you were sure you could drown in it. 

“All good?” he asked, although he himself looked anything but fine.  His eyes were glazed with desperation. 

“No,” you said quietly. 

“No?”

“Still sticky.”

Jungkook clenched his jaw. “Y/N, what are you trying to do?”

There it was. The question you had been avoiding. What were you trying to do? Sure, you wanted to seduce him – tempt him – but now what? You hadn’t thought this far yet. You were just having fun.

“I don’t know,” you admitted softly.

He was stern. “You know what you’re doing to me, right?”

At this moment, you saw the beginnings of a bulge at his groin, poking through his sweatpants. You gulped, heart racing. 

“Sorry.”

He sighed, exasperated, hand ruffling through his hair. “Don’t apologize.” 

You could only look down and fiddle with your hands, embarrassed. All of your so-called confidence disappeared now that you were faced with the consequences of your actions. He didn’t like you. He didn’t know you as anything other than his best friend’s little sister. How naive were you to think that a few tricks here and there could get him to fall for you?

“Don’t try this with other guys, you hear me?” he scolded. “They wouldn’t be able to hold back.”

“I would never do this to anyone else!” You yelled, suddenly completely over trying to dance around your feelings. “Stop trying to act like my older brother. I don’t like that. I don’t want that.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, unable to process your words.

“What I mean is that I wouldn’t ever do this with anyone else because I like you, you idiot!” You huffed, feeling grateful for the two shots of vodka in your body. “I don’t want you to be my honorary brother or whatever, because I’ve been crushing on you since seventh grade!”

It was too late to turn back now, you thought. He’d kick you out of his car and call you an Uber home instead. Then, he’d never come over again and you would have just ruined his friendship with Jimin forever.

So, you might as well tell him everything while you could.

“I did everything to be the kind of girl you liked. I read all of the Iron Man comics for you. I went along with your stupid Princess Diana theory for a while. I always made sure we had banana milk in our fridge and the only reason why I ever messed around with other people in the first place was so that I wouldn’t be an inexperienced snob when I finally gathered the courage to tell you this!”

You were out of breath, panting at your endless confessions. Jungkook’s jaw was hanging slightly open, eyes wide. 

“That’s why I’m doing this, idiot.”

Tears pricked your eyes. You couldn’t even look at him. You were sure that you ruined everything.

“You’re gonna be the end of me,” he growled, before cupping your jaw and practically dragging you into his mouth.

His lips were on yours in a matter of seconds, a frenzy of teeth and tongue before you finally settled into an aggressive rhythm. He was pulling you towards him, hands on your waist. He quickly pulled his seat’s lever, pushing his seat back to make room for you.

“Come here,” he demanded. You hungrily found a seat on his lap, straddling him.

You couldn’t believe it. Here you were, hands all over Jungkook in what was most definitely not an appropriate way when moments ago you were sure that you’d never be able to look at him ever again. 

You felt his cock poking at your crotch, and you ground against it, eliciting a soft moan from the both of you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he said in between kisses. You whimpered in response, desperate for more of him.

He kept pulling you in closer, peppering kisses down your jaw and neck. He nibbled at the skin at the base of your jaw for a while, before sucking in with a pop, definitely giving you a hickey. You hissed at the stinging sensation. Then, he trailed more kisses down your collarbone, to your chest and then the mound of your breast.

Your halter top held up with only a zip at the back, which he promptly undid, leaving your bare chest in all its glory for him to see. 

“Perfect,” he whispered against your skin. “So fucking perfect.”

He licked your breasts, tongue rolling over one nipple while his hand tweaked at the other. You couldn’t help but let out an embarrassing moan, the friction of his cock beneath you only adding to your ecstasy.

“Jungkook, please,” you panted. “More.”

“Needy as always, little miss.” He gave your ass a tight squeeze as he gave your other breast the attention it deserved. 

You humped him desperately, angry at the cloth separating you two. He was sweating, eyes dark with hunger and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Let’s go to the back,” he said, breathless. 

You nodded, practically throwing yourself into the backseat as he climbed over shortly after. From there, you tugged at his hoodie, and he took it off in one swift motion. He pushed you down, lying on top of you as you felt his bare chest connect with yours.

You continued to kiss for a while in that position, before your hand hesitantly went to the hem of his sweatpants. In a moment of courage, you pushed him off you and got onto your knees. 

“I want to touch you,” you whispered. “Can I?”

Your sweet voice nearly made him cum right then and there. 

“You can do whatever you want.” 

You pulled his sweatpants and boxers down and positioned yourself between his legs. His cock sprang to life, and you couldn’t help but admire its thick, veiny structure, gulping nervously at how big it was. His tip glistened with precum. 

You went for that first, licking the tip tentatively as he fisted your hair.

“Jesus, you’re driving me insane,” he panted. You smirked, before licking up and down the shaft, letting your tongue paint his skin damp.

After a few more licks, you took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as much as you could. You wanted the look on his face to be tattooed to your forehead. Usually, you didn’t enjoy giving head all that much, but when you saw just how much you could disorient him, you thought that you could do this forever. 

You bobbed your head up and down, making sure to let your saliva-covered hand fiddle with his balls occasionally, while helping you pump the base of his shaft. His huffs and moans filled the air with your sickeningly sweet slurping sounds.

After a good minute of bobbing, you took him deep into your throat, letting it block your airway. It was painful, but the reaction you got made it worth it. 

“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he grunted, watching from above as you gagged on him and held back tears. The sight was so beautiful he could cry. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/N! Get off!” He pulled on your hair, urging you off of him.

You quickly complied. “What’s wrong?”

He took a moment to regain his breathing. “I almost came,” he admitted, embarrassed. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

“Here and there,” you said vaguely, a stupid smile on your face. He clenched his jaw. 

“I’m gonna get you back for that,” he said, pulling you up from your kneeling position.

“Oh yeah?” 

 He pushed you back down, pulling your skirt up to your waist to reveal your white lacy panties. He was rendered speechless for a moment.

“Holy shit.”

You grinned at him with a sweet request. “Clean me up?”

He wanted to melt into you. Your voice was like a siren’s lullaby.

He dragged his tongue from your chest all the way down to your tummy, letting one hand fiddle with your nipple clumsily as he used the other hand to push your underwear to the side. He marveled at your pussy for a while, entranced by how it was already dripping with pleasure.

“Please, Jungkook,” you pleaded, arching your back.

“Anything for you, little miss.” The typically cute nickname sounded naughty now. 

He lapped at your clit relentlessly, sucking and slurping just how you’d done for him. Moans tumbled out of your mouth, and you writhed beneath him as he firmly held your hips in place. Your eyes rolled back when he dug his tongue inside you, wiggling it like a vibrator, and you couldn’t help but whimper embarrassingly loud.

“Oh my god, Jungkook,” you cried. “Shit, Jungkook, wait!”

He wouldn’t stop, no matter how hard you pulled on his hair or how hard your hips jolted. He only went even harder, tongue flicking unforgivingly against your heat.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” you repeated helplessly. “Jungkook please – oh fuck, fuck, fuck!”

And you were undone in a matter of seconds, blinded by a white, ephemeral light. 

You were panting, barely regaining your vision when you looked up to see Jungkook smirking smugly at you. 

“Looks like I made an even bigger mess,” he said, referring to all the sticky substances at your crotch. “Need a minute?”

You huffed defiantly. “No. I want more.”

“More?” he started. “I don’t have a condom, though.”

“Don’t care,” you said, making your way to his lap to straddle him. “I’m on the pill. And you’re seriously hard. Did you want things to end here?”

He couldn’t answer. Your boldness seriously turned him on. 

“That’s what I thought,” you said assertively. You started kissing his jaw and sucking on his neck, giving him the same treatment he gave to you earlier. Your bare pussy was grazing his rock solid cock.

“Y/N,” he exhaled. “You’re seriously perfect.” 

You sucked harder, letting your wet pussy glide against his member.

“You know you didn’t have to do all of that, right?” he said through gritted teeth. “The Iron Man comics and banana milk and – fuck,” he panted at the increasingly intense friction. “You’re already perfect for me.”

You melted at his sweet words. “Wanna be good for you, though.”

“You’re already so good,” he affirmed, hands pulling you in closer so you were chest to chest. “God, you’re perfect,” he said for the millionth time. 

He positioned his cock at your entrance, looking up at you hesitatingly.

“You wanna, uh, do the honors?”

A snort bubbled out of you. “Seriously? Do the honors?” Truthfully, you were nervous too. It was going to be your first time.

“Should I do it?” he asked, only a little bit embarrassed. 

“No,” you said. “I’ll do it.” 

After years of fantasizing about his dick being in you, you wanted to be the one to make it a reality. Slowly, you let yourself sink onto his cock. It was excruciatingly slow for Jungkook, but he didn’t make any move to rush you, only wincing and taking steadying breaths as you took your time.

Once you were halfway in, it started to hurt a little bit.

“You okay?” 

“Yeah,” you quipped, although it was strained. “Can we start with this?”

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll move.”

Gently, he started lifting his hips up and down. You groaned; the fullness felt weird – not good yet. But something was starting to tingle at the base of your belly. A few more thrusts later, it started feeling different. Like the nerves in your vaginal walls were finally starting to appreciate being stretched out by his dick.

You let out a shaky breath. “Feels good,” you whispered.

“Yeah?” His eyes hadn’t left your face once, careful to make sure that you weren’t uncomfortable.

Then, his thrusts started to feel like something else entirely. Filling you up with pleasure that you didn’t know was possible. His cock was warm and hard, not flimsy like your fingers or cold like a dildo. He was basically entirely in you by now. His rhythm started getting more shaky.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned into your shoulder. “You’re so tight.”

You moaned, head falling back as he started getting faster – more aggressive. 

“It feels really good now,” you mewled. “Shit, Jungkook. More, please.”

He started thrusting up even harder; his dick was now pumping into you relentlessly. You joined him, humping up and down in a similar, but messier rhythm. Whimpers and moans were tumbling out of your mouth like a song, and Jungkook’s animalistic grunts  grew intense.

The car’s windows fogged up and you left a handprint on it when you briefly put your hand there to steady yourself. Your tits were bouncing in his face, and he stuck out his tongue to occasionally lick at your nipples as he thrusted into you. His hands dug into your waist, guiding your motions so that they aligned with his.

“Please, please, please – oh god, Jungkook, fuck!”

You were reaching your climax soon. Jungkook as well, looked like he couldn’t hold it anymore. 

“I’m gonna cum – I’m gonna cum!” You whimpered.

“Fuck, same.” 

Then, you and Jungkook sped up even more, each movement adding to your climax. Your moans crescendoed into a desperate, loud wail, and Jungkook let out one big groan as his warm semen filled your insides, sending tingles down your spine.

You were both breathless and sweaty, panting from the effort, but gooey smiles were plastered on your faces from the pleasure.

You lifted yourself off of him, wincing at your sensitive womanhood, before plopping on the seat next to him and leaning on his shoulder. He planted a soft kiss on your temple.

“That was amazing,” Jungkook said exactly what you were thinking.

You two sat like that for a while, basking in the other’s presence, naked and damp in the humid car.

“How are we going to tell Jimin?” you asked.

Jungkook hummed in consideration, less worried than he thought he’d be. 

“Let’s worry about that later, little miss.” 

── EXCITED TO READ

wonderboy by @pjminii

karmic energy by @jigglyjeon

mnemonic by @solecize

she won't go away by @saatorus

between the lines by @writesvani

starboy by @luvismenu

out of line by @jungkoode

it's a match by @dreamersparacosm

angel for sale by @n33mesis

the ex not missed by @kithtaehyung

sweeter than sweet by @gimmesumsuga

swipe right for a dare by @95rkives

made of honor by @kookooluvr

── AWAITING UPDATES (like a starving feral animal)

white blooms by @pjminii

headcold by @jigglyjeon

puppy princess by @ggukivrse

the perfect match by @matchastwb

feel free to send me your recs! would also love some txt fic recs <3

You hiked your bag higher and finally after ten minutes of walking you came across the sign illuminated against the grey sky as the snow started to fall harder.

It was only five p.m., but people were already starting to line up outside, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

In your opinion, New Year’s Eve was always overrated. You would much rather stay home in comfy clothes and watch movies instead of paying for overpriced booze and standing with a bunch of strangers who were desperate for a midnight kiss.

Or maybe that was the cynic in you.

The line already had at least thirty people in it and you brushed past them all, not bothering to give them the time of day or take in their complaints as you cut the line to where Jimin was standing in a chic black puffer coat.

His hair was dark and stylishly pushed back from his face, he had minimal eye makeup, just enough to make him look dangerous and sexy and you wondered who he was dressing up for tonight.

One girl let out an annoyed huff and you whirled on your heel to face her.

“I’m not cutting the line. I work here.” You bite out already annoyed with the night and it had not even started.

She just rolled her eyes and you let out your own huff of annoyance as you waited for Jimin to catch your eye.

“Oh Hey!” He calls after a minute of you standing in the cold.

You shuffle forward cutting off the girl who gave you attitude earlier and stand in front of him as he pulls you into a crushing hug.

“Jimin! I’m going to be late for my shift!” You say between giggles as he holds you for a moment then pulls away flashing you a bright grin.

“That‘s a lie darling and we both know it. You don’t start till six. I was surprised to see you on the staff sheet tonight. You hate New Year’s Eve. You’re going to be miserable.” He all but cackles as you roll your eyes to the sky.

“Yes well, Christmas bills and all. Plus I didn’t want to miss out on your gorgeous face. Last time I see it before the New Year.” You teasingly flirt as this time Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Always such a charmer. Okay well, you can head on in. I know I don’t have to check your ID corporate girl.”

You scowl at him.

“Yes, corporate girl by day killer bartender by night. What a glamourous life I live.” You deadpan as Jimin stands there and grins.

“Well, hopefully, you brought some slutty clothes to show off your….assets. Big tips tonight you know.” He teases with an eyebrow raised as you smack his arm.

“I dress modestly.” You argue back.

“And that’s why you complain about money. Be slutty get more tips. It’s bartending 101.” He says as more people cue up behind you to get into the bar.

“Well I think this skirt shows off enough of my assets and it’s uncomfortable as fuck so I’m going to head in and change thank you.” You say as Jimin throws his head back and laughs.

“Yeah Yeah head on in. I’ll be out here freezing my ass off with this bunch.” He gestures to the long line of people.

“Show off your assets. Maybe it will make it more enjoyable.” You parrot back to him as you brushed past but a hand on your arm stopped you and you turned to see Jimin grabbing your arm, his face close to yours and eyes alight with mischief.

“Speaking of assets. If you want to see some good ass…ets you should see the new coat room guy. Holy shit I think I might actually be in love. Check him out. Let me know what you think.” He says voice low.

“Why am I screening your potential dates?” You groan pulling your arm from him.

“Because you have great taste in men. And who else am I going to ask? Namjoon? Yoongi? Please.” He huffs out.

“What time does Namjoon come in to take over?” You ask Jimin thinking fondly of the big burly security guard who looks intimidating but is soft as a teddy bear.

“Eleven. Thank fuck.” Jimin says.

“I’ll scope him out. Come find me at eleven and we will talk.” You say as you give him a salute and he smiles at you.

Your body is met with warm air as you finally enter The Luxe Lounge entryway and cant help but smile at the music already bumping from upstairs. Jungkook must already be working on the track for tonight. No doubt Hoseok is next to him helping him pick out good dance music.

You take the narrow hallway beside the stairs where the staff lounge is and punch in the code on the keypad.

Seokjin was nice enough to give everyone full-sized lockers so you cram most of your stuff in there, spinning the lock before grabbing your change of clothes and heading to the staff bathrooms which just so happen to be next to the coatroom.

Doors don’t officially open until six and you snicker when you imagine Jimin standing out in the cold probably flirting with every man or woman that he sees.

That man was such a shameless flirt you wondered how in the hell he didn’t have a date yet.

Just as you passed the coat room someone cleared their throat and you stopped in your tracks because Holy shit.

If this was the man Jimin was talking about

He was gorgeous.

He was tall with dark fluffy hair that fell into his eyes and miles of tanned skin. His chest was wide, stretched by a plain black tee shirt but his hands and fingers were delicate, almost looked like he could be a piano player with those long delicate fingers.

His lips parted into a smile when he saw you and your heart lept in your chest.

Holy shit.

“Hi um, we’re not actually open until six…I think.” He says in a low voice that sends a shiver up your spine.

“Oh uh, yeah I work here. I just came from my other job so I have to change.” You stammer as his dark eyes widen and he flushes a pretty rose colour.

“Oh, I’m so sorry tonight is my first night and I haven’t met everyone yet. I’m so sorry wow that’s embarrassing.” He stammers and you walk over to him and smile.

“It’s okay the staff rotates a lot so you will be meeting people for weeks.” You encourage as you introduce yourself holding out a hand for him to shake.

“I’m Taehyung.” He says as his hand takes yours and you look down to see how his large palm and long fingers engulf your hand. Something about that is so sexy you feel beads of sweat start to form on your forehead.

“Well, Taehyung welcome to the craziest night of the year. Are you ready?” You tease as you switch your bag to the other arm.

“Yeah, I mean. Seokjin explained it to me and I had training yesterday. Coat room can’t be that hard right?” He asks voice full of worry.

“Nah not usually. New Year’s Eve though. You're going to be busy.” You warn him.

His tongue darts out to lick at his lips nervously and you can’t help but feel intrigued by him.

He was no doubt gorgeous, but also his shyness and nervousness were cute. Someone tonight was going to try to make him their New Year’s kiss, you were sure of it.

“I bartend here. Usually try not to during holidays because it’s always insane but the money is good so why the heck not? It’s only one night.” You say softly as you stare into his dark eyes.

“Yeah, that’s how I feel. Seokjin didn’t want to throw me in on tonight of all nights but I figured why not. I have nothing else going on.” He says tapping his fingers on the counter.

“Nothing else going on? You don’t have anyone at home waiting for you?” You ask as he blushes and your stomach swoops with how forward you are being.

“I’m sorry it’s not my business I shouldn’t have asked.” You apologize as his face breaks into a soft smile.

“Nah it’s okay. We’re going to be working together we should get to know each other. No, I live alone. No girlfriend no boyfriend. Just me and my dog.” He says shrugging.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll have tons of people lining up for you tonight.” You encourage as his eyes widen.

“You think so?” He asks, voice dipping lower and a teasing look in his eye.

“I mean yeah. You are gorgeous and everyone gets drunk and horny on New Year’s Eve. I’ve worked it enough to know.” You say not sure why you are so bold with him as you only just met. However, something about him just drags you in and you never want to leave his captivating gaze.

“You think I’m gorgeous huh?” He teases with a lift of his eyebrow.

So he was a master flirt like Jimin.

Of course, he was

“Yes, but I think you also know you're gorgeous. And it’s not just me. Other people have noticed Taehyung.” You say flirting back and resting your forearms on the counter getting closer to him and inhaling his scent.

“Hmm and who would that be who is also noticing? Jimin by chance?” He coos with a wink.

“He’s not very subtle huh?” You comment as Taehyung lets out a small giggle and also props his arms on the counter bringing his handsome face closer to you.

“Are you friends with Jimin?” He asks biting at his lower lip.

You nod.

“And let me guess. He put you up to this to see if I’m interested?” He asks as you feel yourself lean in even closer, taking in the small beauty marks on his handsome face.

“Can’t tell. Scouts honor you know.” You whisper as the tension around you crackles.

Taehyung lets out a soft laugh and your eyes are instantly drawn to his pink lips.

“Well, you can tell Jimin I think he is hot. Like really hot. And just for future reference, I think you are super hot too.” He says with a wink which has you flustered in more ways than one.

Your body feels on fire and your cheeks are stained red. The way this man can switch from innocent and cute to downright smouldering sexy makes your head spin.

“Though I think I’ve held you up enough. Don’t want Seokjin breathing down your neck because you're late for your shift.” He says voice low and dangerous as you swallow hard.

“Go get changed. I’m sure we will see each other again.” He says dismissing anything you had to say as he shoots you another wink and pushes himself back from the counter, grinning when he sees how flustered you are before turning around and unboxing more hangers.

By the time you are changed and behind the bar with Yoongi you feel a little less affected by Taehyungs charms.

But only a little bit.

The second you locked yourself in the stall you got out your phone and texted Jimin in all capitals about what happened.

Your fingers were flying over the keyboard and the message was littered with spelling mistakes but you knew Jimin would know what you meant as you hit send and quickly got dressed in black jeans and a forest green body suit.

You hurried to put on your gold jewelry and do something with your hair and when you exited the bathroom Taehyung was nowhere to be found and you had to admit you were slightly disappointed.

Yoongi gave you a small smile when you got behind the bar with him and when the doors opened at six you didn’t have time to think about Taehyung as you were too busy serving drinks left and right.

Yoongi was a good companion behind the bar because he was a hard worker and because you had worked with him for so long you both got into a groove, weaving behind each other with ease, passing each other bottles before the other asked for it.

You both worked as a well-oiled machine.

By Nine you were coated in a thin layer of sweat and the dance floor was packed.

Bodies were all pushed together as people danced and sang and ground on each other.

You grinned when you saw Hoseok take to the dance floor and Jungkook jumping wildly behind his DJ setup.

You passed Yoongi the vodka bottle and he shot you a grateful smile as the girl he was serving was giving him the most shameless “Please fuck me eyes.”

You snickered when she began to suck on her straw like it was a cock and Yoongi moved behind you with grace and hissed “Don’t say a word.” In your ear.

You snicker but continue to pour drinks as it seems like most girls have their eyes on Yoongi tonight.

One guy slithers up to the bar smelling of cheap cigarettes and the way he stares at you makes your skin crawl.

Normally Yoongi would take these customers but he was over his head with a group of girls all in bedazzled tops so you took him instead.

“What can I get for you?” You asked throwing the bar towel over your shoulder and trying to breathe through your mouth at his stench.

“Are you on the menu?” The stranger cackled causing you to force a tight smile on your face.

“No sir unfortunately I’m not. But we have a wide selection here so what can I get for you.” You say trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice as he leans against the counter.

“Well, that’s a shame. Though I do like the sir thing.” He says with a teasing wink that has your skin prickling and before you know it Yoongi is at your side snarling at the man.

“Sir It’s New Year’s Eve. We are swamped and she clearly isn’t interested in you. Order something or move on.” He barks at the man who frowns and orders a beer.

Yoongi serves it to him and before you can blink he disappears into the crowd.

“Thanks.” You say to Yoongi who gives you a curt nod before going back to his side of the bar and taking orders.

By eleven you are sweaty and sore. You see Namjoon making his way across the floor and you grin to yourself when you realize that your relief person would be coming soon as well.

Kiri comes behind the bar and wraps you in a warm hug dousing you in her strong perfume as you struggle to pull away from her, not wanting her to be covered in your sweat.

“I’ll take over enjoy your New Year’s Eve girl!” She calls over the music taking out a new bar towel and taking over your position with ease.

You nod to Yoongi who nods back a silent Happy New Year as you exit through the side of the bar and navigate the dance floor hoping to make it back to the Staff room to at least freshen up before you meet Jimin.

Making it across the dance floor was near impossible and the stairs were even worse as there was a line up to get up into the loft area where the dance floor was.

You scramble around people, trying to shove your way down the stairs and not take anyone out but the crowd is so thick it feels like it takes you forever just to get down the twelve steps.

You make it to the staff room and just as you are fixing your hair the door opens and Jimin walks in, hair still perfectly slicked back and cheeks pink with cold.

“How did it go?” He asks as he takes the locker next to you and shucks off his coat revealing a skin-tight black top that is slightly sheer so you can see his chest and abs.

“Very tiring. I mean the tips were great but I don’t want to talk to another human for at least a week.” You groan as you finally get your hair looking back to normal and you plop down in one of the chairs and let out a long sigh.

“Even if the human is me?” He teases as he follows suit and plops down beside you.

“Oh well, you’re the exception Jimin.” You say smiling at him.

“What about Taehyung? Is he the exception too?” Jimin says, voice low with a teasing smile on his lips.

You shift in your seat.

“I mean…he’s. Honestly, I don’t even know how to describe him.” You breathe out as your earlier interaction with him flashes in your mind.

“Oh, I know. He got you good, didn’t he? I had to read your text several times just to know what you were saying.” Jimin jokes as you shove his arm and overhead you hear people yelling in glee.

Jugkook must have turned on a popular song to get the crowd hyped.

“I was rushing because he held me up. And I was going to be late.” You argue back crossing your arms as Jimin cackles beside you.

“Admit it you were all flustered because he is hot.” He teases you nudging your arm.

“Hey, you’re in the same boat as me here!” You shoot back.

“Yes, but I’m not trying to hide it. He’s hot. I want him. I’m very open about my feelings.” Jimin says eyes dancing in the low lights of the staff room.

“Well, you saw him first so you can have him. You called dibs.” You say feeling slightly defeated.

“You want him too?” He questions.

“Yes didn’t you read my text? I said he was hot as fuck.”

Jimin laughs.

“All I saw were spelling mistakes.” He goads.

“Again I was in a rush!” You defend yourself but Jimin knows how to get under your skin and he just sits there and giggles.

His giggles go silent as one of your coworkers walks in. She quickly grabs her stuff and waves to you both before leaving. You know she has a boyfriend back home and is probably going to try to get to him before midnight.

“I don’t mind sharing you know,” Jimin says when the room falls silent again and your head whips around to stare at him, expecting to see a smile on his face but he looks dead serious.

“Jimin, you’re my friend, I adore you, I do, but I don’t want your sloppy seconds. Even if they are as sexy as Taehyung.” You explain.

“It doesn’t have to be sloppy seconds you know?” Jimin starts and you stare at him in disbelief.

“Were you secretly getting drinks when you were standing out there? How drunk are you?” You ask as you feel heat rise to your cheeks and you stand up feeling the need to pace the floor.

“Sober as fuck. But also horny as fuck. Come on we have been friends for the last five years. We both think he’s sexy. If I read your texts right he thinks we both are sexy. We could just….share?” Jimin suggests with an eyebrow raised.

“You want to share Taehyung? At the same time?” You ask as you stand in front of him, hands on the back of your chair to hold yourself steady.

Jimin shrugs as if it is not a big deal.

You take a second to think of it. You had sex with guys, sure. You just never had a threesome before. Especially with a friend you had known for so long. The whole thing was wildly erotic but also made you nervous.

“It wouldn’t be…weird? I don’t want to lose you Jimin.” You say in a small voice as your eyes meet his.

“You wouldn’t. It would be a night of fun. Both of us feasting on the same gorgeous man. We can do sexual things to him. We don’t have to do it to each other.” Jimin comforts as you see his hand disappear from the table and onto his lap.

“Are you? Are you hard because of this conversation?” You blurt out unable to stop yourself as Jimin chuckles.

“I can’t help it. The thought of you sucking his cock is making me hard. Fuck I don’t know what I want more. My lips on his cock or yours.” He admits now palming himself through his tight pants.

You had to admit Jimin’s lips were something you were always jealous of. They were so much more plump and fuller than yours and picturing them stretched around a cock was giving all sorts of feelings and making wetness coat your underwear.

“Okay fuck it let’s do this.” You say before you lose your nerve and Jimin stands up and adjusts his cock before smiling at you.

“That’s my girl. Now come on let’s go get our man.” He says looping an arm around you and dragging you out of the Staff Room.

After hitting up the bar and getting Yoongi to make you a strong drink you and Jimin lean on the bar and your eyes scan the crowd.

It doesn’t take long for you to find Taehyung and you nudge Jimin when you do.

His fluffy hair is matted to his face and he is surrounded by women. At least three girls are trying to grind on his cock all at once and his lips are curled into a sultry smirk as he laps up all the attention he is receiving.

You see his hands make their way onto a pretty blonde-haired girl’s waist and she throws her head back against his shoulder as he grinds his cock into her backside.

“Is it possible he somehow got hotter? Because Holy fuck.” Jimin hisses in your ear as your breath catches in your throat when his fingers push her hair to to side and he presses a hot open-mouthed kiss to her skin.

You stand there and feel your body burn up. It should be you he has his hands on, it should be your skin he’s kissing and jealousy rises in your body as you down some of your drink.

“Let him do this. The more he teases and flirts the more punishments he will receive once we get our hands on him.” Jimin growls low as he takes a swig of his drink and you stare up at him.

In the lights of the club, his eyes look darker, almost predatory as they are focused on only Taehyung. He holds his head high as if he is unbothered by the whole thing and you can’t help but shiver when his gaze snaps to yours.

“You’re a Dom?” You ask as your eyes flit back to Taehyung who is still living it up on the dance floor.

Jimin snickers.

“For him? I’m whatever he wants me to be. He’s that fucking hot.” Jimin mutters as he brings the drink to his lips.

You nearly choke on your drink when dark eyes from across the dancefloor lock onto yours as Taehyung has finally spotted the two of you staring him down like hungry animals.

He doesn’t seem intimidated, nor does he stop the act.

Instead, he winks at you and doubles down on his efforts. Letting the blonde girl and her friend grind against him. They push their asses into his crotch and he holds them both steady as the music thumps loudly.

“Our boy is such a slut.” Jimin muses in your ear as you finish the rest of your drink and throw the cup out in the nearby garbage.

You can’t tear your eyes away from Taehyung as he sways to the music, throws his head back to sing and has women swarming towards him in droves as he gives them all just enough attention to keep them hooked.

“He’s loving this.” You admit as you feel arousal pool in your panties. It is hot to see him like this, licking his lips, touching women lightly, whispering in their ears things you could only wish he would say to you.

Jimin finishes his drink and runs his hand through his hair as Taehyung makes eye contact with you both again.

His mouth is curled into a dangerous grin that almost begs you to go over and claim him and it seems Jimin’s patience has run out as he grabs your arm and drags you through the crowd as Taehyung gets a little too handsy with one of his admirers.

You push through the crowd and by the time you make it to Taehyung, you are sweating. The music is too loud, everyone’s bodies are everywhere and you are so close to Taehyung it makes your head spin.

You stand behind Jimin as he leans down and whispers something to Taehyung who grins and apologizes to the girls saying he had to go.

Most of the girls look crestfallen as Jimin grabs his hand and drags you both through the crowd to the far end of the floor where the lights don’t reach and is a lot quieter.

“Fucking finally,” Taehyung complains as Jimin grabs him harshly and pushes him so his ass is flush against Jimin’s crotch.

You stand there mesmerized as Jimin holds Taehyung’s hips harshly and begins to grind into him at the beat of the music.

“Took you long enough,” Taehyung complains as Jimin chuckles darkly in his ear and you stand there frozen watching the whole thing go down.

“We thought you liked the attention Tae. Liked all those strangers touching you. Trying to claim you.” Jimin growls as you watch his hands travel up and down Tae’s sides as he grinds his hard cock into his backside with ease.

Taehyung’s eyes flutter closed and he throws his head back against Jimin’s shoulder exposing his long neck and sharp jaw.

“W-Wanted it to be you.” He admits as Jimin’s eyes find yours and with a curt head nod you press your backside into Tae’s front as his eyes snap open and his long fingers grab for your hips as he presses his hard cock into your ass.

You moan when you feel how big he is against you.

His fingers hook into your belt loops as he tugs you closer so your ass is fully pressed into his cock and when he grinds into you with enthusiasm you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips.

“Did grinding on all those people make your cock hard Tae. Or was it us watching you that made you so fucking erect.” Jimin growls as Tae grinds himself harder into you and his hands are holding your hips so hard you wonder if there will be bruises tomorrow.

“Y-You watching me. I wanted you to see. Wanted you to want me.” He admits as Jimin presses a kiss to his neck which makes Tae moan and grind himself into you.

“You want us don’t you Tae? You want two lovers tonight instead of one. Such a greedy boy.” Jimin growls as you whine at his words and grind your ass harder against Taehyung desperate to feel his big cock.

“Yes God fuck please.” he cries out as Jimin snickers and pulls away nearly making Taehyung topple over.

The music stops and everyone turns to look at the DJ booth as it shows there is only one minute until midnight.

“Well I wanted to make you cum as we rang in The New Year but you decided to play slut and we ran out of time.” Jimin clicks his tongue in disappointment.

“Please I’m so fucking hard. I’ll be good. Just make me cum.” Taehyung wails as the countdown to midnight begins.

“I’m thinking we ring in The New Year then we get the fuck out of here. My place is closest.” Jimin offers as he looks at you and you nod.

Taehyung nods as well as the whole room counts down from five, anticipation and excitement palatable in the air as the clock strikes twelve and it is officially a new year.

Jimin grabs Taehyung and pulls him in for a bruising kiss as you watch their hands tangled in each other’s hair.

Jimin pulls away before Taehyung gets to fully experience it and when Tae juts out his lower lip in a pout Jimin laughs.

“Come on let’s get out of here.” He demands as the three of you head for the stairs and grab your things.

Cabs are waiting outside so you are lucky to snag one before the crowds get to them and you all squeeze in the back as Jimin gives the driver instructions.

The car ride is quiet as you are squeezed between both men, their knees are hitting yours and you can’t help but feel wetness coat your core as you sit between them.

Jimin taking control and whispering filth in Taehyung’s ear makes you clench your thighs together as the sexual tension in the cab feels suffocating.

A hand reaches down to your knee and you nearly jump when you see it is Taehyung’s hand.

Your eyes snap to his but he isn’t looking at you, instead he’s staring at Jimin with a questioning look.

Jimin gives him a small nod and soon his long fingers climb higher up your leg and you are trying not to moan when they make their way to the seam of your jeans.

You open your legs slightly and Taehyung snickers when his thumb presses into your core through your jeans, rubbing against your clit on the first try.

The image of his delicate fingers rubbing you through your jeans is erotic and you can’t help but grind yourself down on him as your pussy throbs.

You feel shuffling beside you and you look down in time to see Jimin openly palming at his hard cock. He’s not subtle about it as he palms the head through the tight material of his pants and his eyes are zoned into where Taehyung is rubbing you through your jeans.

It seems Taehyung is bold enough to take it further as his lips attach to your neck and he begins to rub you with more vigor as he presses hot wet kisses to your skin.

You throw your head on Jimin’s shoulder to give Tae more access as his thumb continues to rub circles on your clit making you wet and needy.

His lips are warm against your skin and when you turn to see Jimin palming himself even harder at the sight you can’t help the small moan that falls from your lips.

“Enough.” Jimin hisses as Tae withdraws his hand and you nearly cry at the loss of contact. Your pussy throbs painfully as the car slows and you are in front of Jimin's house.

Taehyung gets out first and you follow suit, wincing when you feel your panties sticking to your core.

You stand in the cold as Jimin pays the driver and Tae throws his arm around your shoulder as you lean into him to stay warm.

Once the cab is paid you follow Jimin up the driveway to his modest two-story home. Taehyung still has his arm around you as Jimin unlocks the door and when you step inside you are met with light-coloured walls and modern furniture as Jimin moves around flicking on lights and the faint boom of fireworks can be heard as people ring in The New Year.

“Jimin your place is so nice!” Taehyung comments as you toe off your shoes and coat Taehyung follows your lead. Jimin smiles and gestures for you both to join him on the couch and you tuck your knees under you as you sit between the two men.

“So should we go over things before we get started?” Jimin asks, dropping his dominating tone completely and instead opting for a softer voice.

“What is there to go over? I want you both. Clearly.” Tae says as he gestures to his cock which is stretching the fabric of his jeans in a way that makes your mouth water.

“I know I took the dom roll back there but I wanted to make sure you both were okay with that,” Jimin says nervously running a hand through his hair as Tae nods enthusiastically.

“Just tell us what to do Jimin.” You speak up as Taehyung nods again clearly into being dominated and Jimin chuckles.

“Okay let’s head to the bedroom then, I have everything I need in there,” he says standing up as you and Tae follow suit and he leads you up the stairs.

“Fucking finally I think my cock is going to rip these jeans if I keep them on any longer,” Tae grumbles as you giggle and make it to Jimin’s bedroom.

It’s a simple room with light walls and a king-sized bed and when you both make it over the threshold Jimin stares at Taehyung with his arms crossed.

“Tae you kneel on the floor like a good boy while we get things set up. Keep your head down. And unbutton your jeans. Don’t take them off just unbutton them. I don’t want your cock hurting because of those tight-ass jeans before I can get my mouth on it. Or her mouth on it.” Jimin says nodding to you as Taehyung drops onto the small decorative carpet on the floor and his nimble fingers pop the button of his jeans leaving room for his cock to expand and he sighs out in relief.

“We are going to grab some things in the other room and you be a good boy and kneel here until we get back,” Jimin demands as he gives Tae’s cheek a playful smack and drags you from the room to the spare bedroom.

“We’re just going to leave him there?” You hiss as Jimin closes the door to the spare room and starts to go through the closet reaching for a basket at the top causing his shirt to slide up and show off his back tattoo.

“Yes for two reasons,” Jimin explains as his fingers curl around the basket and he takes it down and places it on the bed.

“Number one. I said in the club we were going to punish him for acting like a slut. This is part of his punishment. This is too.” Jimin said as he opened the lid to the basket and you gasped when you saw what was inside.

A huge variety of sex toys and objects. Vibrators, cock rings, handcuffs, leather riding crops. Jimin pokes around until he pulls out a small black vibrator, lube and a long silk scarf.

“Holy fuck Jimin.” You breathe out as he snickers at you.

“We’re going to show him how to be a good boy and not be a little slut.” Jimin confirms as he puts the lid back on the box but doesn’t bother putting it back in the closet.

“Reason number two is I want to make sure you are okay with this. I know I’m taking over the scene so I wanted to check in first. Anything you like? Or want?” He asks as you stand there and contemplate.

“I want to suck his dick for sure. He looks so fucking big. Did you see the way it stretched his jeans? Other than that I’m good to just see how it plays out.” You admit.

“Want him to fuck you? By the time I’m done with him, I think I could make him do whatever I wanted.” Jimin asks as his eyes flick down to the toys he chose and a sinister smile tugs at his lips.

“Yes please.” You nearly moan.

Jimin lets out a soft laugh.

“I gotta say Jimin. You’re a hot as hell dom.” You complement as he makes his way to the door and throws it open.

“Oh, pretty girl you haven’t seen anything yet.” He teases you with a wink as you follow him back to the room where Taehyung is.

Taehyung is still kneeling on the floor with his head down and his fluffy hair falling into his eyes. His pants are unbuttoned and you can see the band of his underwear and the hard swell of his cock as he stays in position on the floor.

“What a good boy you are Tae.” Jimin complements as Tae’s mouth stretches into a smile.

Jimin makes his way to the side table to deposit his toys for Taehyung as you stand over him and stare down at him.

“Stand up. Strip off all your clothes except your underwear and lay on the bed.” Jimin demands as Tae scrambles to follow his instructions.

He stands on shaky legs quickly shucks his pants down his legs and kicks them off somewhere in the room. His shirt goes next exposing his broad chest and lean torso.

Before he can get on the bed Jimin clicks his tongue and Taehyung freezes, eyes snapping to Jimin.

“Good boys don’t just throw their clothes around now do they Taetae?” He coos as Taehyung drops his head in shame and walks around the room gathering his things and folding them nicely.

Once that is done he scrambles on the bed and pushes himself back until he is resting against the headboard and staring at Jimin awaiting instruction.

“Fuck such a good boy for us,” Jimin mutters as he brings a finger out to trace Taehyung’s tanned skin.

He arches up into Jimins touch and you can’t help but walk over to get a closer look.

“Tae I have to be honest with you, you look delectable. So delectable I think I’m going to let her suck your dick for being such a good boy for us.” Jimin says as his eyes meet yours and you nod slowly.

Before you can climb onto the bed Jimin demands Taehyung raise his arms and you see the silk scarf in his hand as Tae’s eyes widen and Jimin grabs both his wrists and ties him to one of the bed posts.

“Comfy?” He asks Taehyung as you look down to see his eyes blown out wide with lust and his tongue darting out to lick at his lips.

“Yes. Very much yes. Fuck this is so hot.” Tae whines as you giggle when you see his cock twitch in his underwear.

“We’re going to use a colour system tonight. Green means good. Yellow means slow. Red means Stop. Got it?” Jimin says as you both nod and Jimin’s plush lips curl into a smirk as he presses something into your hand out of sight from Tae’s lust-blown eyes.

The cock ring is now in your hand and when you look at Jimin he gives you a nod and you know exactly what he wants you to do.

You climb up on the bed keeping it hidden by placing it on the bed by your knee as you lean down and begin to pepper kisses along Taehyung’s heated skin.

His body arches up into your lips and he lets out sinful moans as you take your time kissing down his body licking and sucking at his skin.

With his hands tied up, he has no choice but to take it as Jimin pulls a chair up by the bed and quickly takes his restrictive pants off and sits down opening his legs wide and palming at his cock.

Taehyung doesn’t know where to look as his gaze bounces between you on top of him getting closer to his cock with each passing minute or Jimin’s hands grabbing at his cock and stroking it.

You can feel Taehyung’s attention slipping so you decided to boldly suck his cock through the material of his underwear Taehyung lets out a broken moan and throws his head back as you suckle at the head and lick along the shaft.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He chants almost in prayer as you hook your fingers into the band of his underwear and pull them down.

He lifts his hips to help you and when you finally get them off his hard cock smacks against his toned stomach.

He is big. Bigger than you have ever taken and your mouth waters and your pussy throbs when you take in his length and girth. The head of his cock is an angry red colour and beads of precum ooze out from the slit.

You lean down and grab his cock before suckling on the head causing a broken moan to slip from Tae’s mouth and Jimin to chuckle darkly beside you.

You suck him down hallowing out your cheeks and stroking him in tandem. Saliva pools in your mouth making everything wet and the glide feels amazing as you bob your head taking him further each time.

Your other hand comes down to fondle his balls which feel so enlarged you can’t help but whine against his shaft when you get your hands on them.

You begin to work him harder and faster, feeling drunk on not only the alcohol but the feeling of finally having this thick cock in your mouth and you almost miss the warning noise Jimin makes in the back of his throat as your eyes snap up to Taehyung and you can’t help but grin around his cock when you see how gone he is.

His head is thrown back against the pillows and his whole body is taught, fighting the urge not to cum too quickly. It should be a crime to be as good at blowjobs as you were and Taehyung was fighting for his fucking life.

You grab the cock ring and attach it to his cock as you pop your mouth off of him Taehyung’s eyes snap open and he looks down to see the black cock ring fit snugly around his base forcing him to stay hard but not be able to cum.

“Holy fuck you have got to be joking.” He breathes out as a sheen of sweat covers his body and he lets out shaky breaths.

You smile down at him before hopping off the bed and wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

“You think we were going to just let you cum after the stunt you pulled? Letting all those strangers feel you up in the club. Flirting with us. Teasing us. Please.” Jimin scoffs as he comes around the bed to sit at the end of it between Taehyung’s legs.

His thighs twitch with anticipation and he feels his cock twitch painfully as the ring holds him erect.

“Now here is what is going to happen. She is going to sit on your face and you are going to eat her pussy. Meanwhile, I’m going to fuck you open on my fingers got it?” Jimin demands.

You can’t help but shiver as you strip down and feel two sets of eyes on your body.

Taehyung moans when you unhook your bra and your tits pop out and when you shimmy out of your jeans and underwear he straight up whines at the sight of your naked body in the low light.

“Damn, you’re fucking hot.” Jimin comments with a wink as you playfully roll your eyes at him and settle yourself on the bed hovering your pussy over Taehyung’s pretty pink lips.

“Please.” he croaks out as you lower yourself down and Tae wastes no time in burying his face in your folds. You grip the headboard and cry out as he works you expertly with his tongue. Lapping at your arousal and nuzzling his nose against your clit.

It takes everything in Jimin to pull himself away from the sight of you sitting on Taehyung’s face and his cock throbs when he can hear the wet noises of your arousal mixed with Tae’s tongue lapping it up.

Jimin squeezes the base of his cock and gets to work lubing up his fingers.

He also makes sure to grab the small black vibrator as he has plans for that too.

Jimin’s finger prods Tae’s entrance and Tae jolts on the bed causing his mouth to bury even deeper into your folds.

Taehyung doesn’t know what to do. He feels like his brain is mush as he can’t deal with all the sensations in his body. There’s you with your perfect pussy which he is happily lapping up. The way you taste is so addicting he can’t help but grind his nose into your clit as his tongue dances along your folds.

Then there’s Jimin who has a finger buried in his ass and is slowly pushing it in and out. Taehyung is fighting the urge to grind down on that finger and his cock is fighting against the cockring as it twitches pathetically on his stomach leaking precum everywhere.

“Fuck Tae you feel so good.” You whine out as his mouth latches onto your clit and he sucks it harshly making the coil of pressure in your stomach wind tighter as you grind yourself down on his tongue.

You look down to see his eyes clouded with lust and when you look over your shoulder to check on Jimin you see he has two fingers buried in Tae.

Holy fuck.

Your pussy throbs on Taehyung’s tongue and you bury your face in your arms as you let out a warning moan that you are getting close.

You tried to stave off your orgasm as much as you could because Tae’s tongue just felt too good but your orgasm was creeping up on you like a speeding train.

“Cum on his tongue,” Jimin demands as you throw your head back and feel your orgasm wash over you. Your thighs clamp around his head and you let out a broken whine as you cum hard. Taehyung laps up everything you give him as he works you through your orgasm feeling high from the taste of you on his tongue and cheeks.

Once you come down from your high you slowly sit up and throw your leg over so you are sitting on the bed next to him breathing heavily.

Taehyung loves how you look right now, cheeks and chest flushed, eyes blown wide, if he could taste you for eternity he could.

“Fuck that was so good holy shit.” You breathe out unable to stop yourself from looking down to where Jimin is still working Taehyung open with his fingers.

“M-More” Taehyung croaks when Jimin curls his fingers and nudges his prostate making Taehyung throw his head back.

“More pussy? Or fingers?” Jimin teases as Taehyung’s cock twitches against his stomach and the amount of precum that is smeared on his skin is obscene.

“M-More whatever I just need- please fuck feels so good. ‘m so hard.” Tae cries out as you take a look at his cock which is an angry red colour and shiny with precum.

“How are your hands? You have been tied up for a while?” Jimin asks calmly as he adds a third finger and curls it just right to make Taehyung see stars.

“I fuck I don’t know I can’t concentrate when you do that.” Taehyung moans as Jimin’s fingers leave him and he cries at the loss of sensation.

Jimin slowly leans down and begins to kiss Taehyungs thighs, his eyes sharp and dangerous as they stare at Tae unblinking.

You curl into Tae’s side resting your head against his chest where his heart is beating at an alarming rate as Jimin continues to kiss his skin, teasing him to the point where Taehyung is close to begging.

He doesn’t have to though because soon a blunt object that is not Jimin’s fingers is pushed against his hole and when Jimin pushes it in Taehyung can’t help but arch off the bed and cry out when he feels a small vibrator being inserted.

“Holy fuck. Fuck. Shit.” Tae chants as he throws his head back and the muscles in his neck strain as he feels you laugh against his skin.

This must have been what you both went into the other room for.

Fucking shit.

“Knew our slut would like having something in his ass. And look. It vibrates too.” Jimin teases as he turns it on and keeps it pressed against Taehyung’s prostate.

Taehyung can’t breathe

He can’t focus

He can’t think

The vibrations are strong and wracking his body in convulsions as he grinds his ass down on the toy desperate for more.

His cock leaks steadily against his stomach and he cries out when Jimin slowly starts to fuck the vibrator inside him.

“I-Fuck Jimin I can’t. I’m gonna cum. Fuck it feels so good. I can’t.” Taehyung cries as tears spill from his eyes.

You look up to see Taehyung crying out in pleasure and when you circle your hand around his cock he croaks out a moan as you gather the precum and slide it down the shaft giving him the most agonizingly wonderful hand job he ever received.

“Color?” Jimin asks as his sharp eyes are once again on Taehyung.

“Green so fucking green but please I need. Something Please.” He cries out.

“We are giving you something baby. Jimin has a toy in your ass and I’m stroking your cock. Such a greedy boy.” You coo as Taehyung cries in frustration.

His cock is hard. So fucking hard and his balls are so big and heavy and all he wants to do is cum until there is nothing left inside him. Everything feels tight and sensitive and when Jimin moves the vibrator inside him again Taehyung loses it.

“Please. Please fuck me. Let me fuck her I don’t care. Jimin please I’m so sorry I let those people touch me at the club but I need you. I fucking need you both so bad I can’t. I seriously can’t. I want to cum so bad. Please.” He cries as you look down to Jimin who looks satisfied.

He stands up but leaves the vibrator pulsing in Taehyung as he rids himself of his shirt and underwear and his cock stands hard and proud against his stomach.

“You gonna be a good boy for us?” He demands giving a light smack to Taehyung’s thigh as he cries out and nods, tears falling from his eyes as he jerks on the bed from pleasure.

“Untie his arms. Don’t touch her though Tae or we will tie you right back up.” Jimin demands as you crawl on top of him and untie his arms with ease.

Taehyung lets out a sigh as the blood flow returns to his arms and he shakes them out.

“Good boy.” Jimin coos as he grabs Taehyung’s ankles and pulls him to the end of the bed.

You grab a pillow to put under Taehyungs head as he is still a crying begging mess on the bed.

“Now here is what is going to happen. I’m going to fill you up with my cock and you are going to fill her up with your cock. Cock ring stays on. You can only cum after we cum. Got it slut?” Jimin asks as he grabs two condoms from the bedside drawer and throws one to you.

You watch as Jimin lubes up his cock and rolls the condom down.

He tosses the lube to you and when you lube up Taehyung’s cock he hisses through his teeth.

“Sensitive.” He warns as you roll the condom down and add more lube.

Before you can straddle Taehyung, Jimin reaches for the vibrator and pulls it out slowly making Taehyung cry out and grip the sheets harshly.

He feels like he’s going to explode, either his head or cock will but something has to give because this is too fucking hot and he feels his cock twitch.

The head of Jimin’s cock pokes at his entrance and Taehyung hisses when he breaches his rim and slides in slowly.

The fingers and vibrator helped but Taeyhung still feels tight around Jimin’s cock as you slowly begin to also slide down on him.

The feel of your wet pussy around his shaft and the feel of Jimin’s cock stretching him out is too much for Tae as a fresh stream of tears runs down his face and he can’t help but moan.

“Yellow!” Tae calls out.

All three of you stop and take a breather. You look down at Taehyung and see how truly fucked out he looks. His eyebrows are furrowed and his teeth are biting into his lips so hard you wonder if he made himself bleed.

“Speak to us Tae. What’s going on?” You say softly as his eyes open and he stares at you. His cheeks are stained with tears and you take your time wiping them away.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry!” he cries out as you press your body into his chest and wrap him in a hug letting him softly cry.

“Never apologize for saying a colour Taehyung. That’s what they are there for.” Jimin soothes as you can hear Taehyung’s erratic heartbeat in his chest.

“I want to be your good boy. Oh god.” He cries out as you press soothing kisses to his skin, soft small kisses as you don’t want to overwhelm him more.

“You are our good boy. The best boy. Now talk to us. What’s going on,” Jimin says.

Taehyung doesn’t speak at first. Instead, he takes several shaky breaths and tries his best to calm himself down.

“It’s just. Holy fuck you two are so fucking hot and I know I can’t cum because of the cock ring but I feel like my cock is going to explode.” He admits.

You sit in comfortable silence for a beat before Jimin speaks.

“Want her to take the cockring off?”

Taehying lets out a small laugh.

“If you do I’ll instantly come inside her. I’m not kidding my cock has never been so hard in my life. My balls fucking ache too.” He says

“I don’t mind you cuming inside me.” You tease as Taehyung’s eyes close and he huffs out a laugh.

“You’re trying to kill me. Both of you.” He laughs.

Jimin slowly thrusts inside Taehyung and he lets out a deep groan as Jimin takes his time and gives Tae the smallest amount of pleasure against his prostate.

“Is both of us too much? We can do one at a time?” Jimin asks as he continues to fuck into Tae lightly gauging the boys’ reactions.

“No, I can take both just g-go slow.”

You stare at Jimin who nods and you slowly fuck yourself on Taehyung as Jimin slowly fucks his cock inside at the same time.

The air is filled with the noises of grunts and moans as you work up a pace Taehyung can handle. His tears seemed to have stopped and instead, he grabs your hips and starts to fuck himself up into you with vigour.

“Oh fuck Tae!” You cry out as he grabs your hips harshly and drills his cock into you.

“Our baby boy is feeling better huh?” Jimin teases as Taehyung growls and continues to fuck into you harshly.

“I’d feel a lot better if you fucked me harder you know.” Taehyung teased back as Jimin let out a surprised laugh but did as he was told and began to fuck into Tae harder.

The sounds were wet and obscene as you let Taehyung use you as Jimin used him.

You could feel your orgasm approaching again and when you whine out Taehyung’s name he gets the hint and begins to fuck into your harder, adding a grind at the end which has the head of his cock rubbing against your g-spot in a way that makes you cry out his name.

“Cl-lose.” You warn as Jimin fucks into Tae harder wanting to cum alongside you both.

Taehyung feels his balls draw up and his cock is twitching deep inside you as your walls flutter around him, a warning of what is to come.

"Take his cock ring off,” Jimin demands as you pull yourself up to unlatch the cock ring, freeing Taehyung of his restraint.

The noise that comes out of Taehyung is wild and obscene as you push yourself back down on his cock and within one thrust you are cumming.

Taehyung’s cock twitches and his balls draw up even more. His hands are grabbing your hips with such force as he fucks into you wildly chasing the high he had been at the edge of for way too long.

Jimin is still fucking his ass, you are cuming around his cock and Taehyung loses it and cums hard inside you.

The feeling of Taehyung cumming sets Jimin off and he drills his cock inside one more time as he buries himself to the hilt and cums hard in Taehyung, crying out his name as he lets his orgasm wash over him in waves.

You slump over keeping Tae’s cock nestled inside you as you curl up against his chest and bury your face against his skin.

Jimin slowly pulls out and slumps down on the floor taking his time to come down from his high as Taehyung lays there motionless trying his best to get air back into his lungs.

He had never cum that hard in his entire life.

Jimin is the first to stand and he smiles when he sees you cuddled in Taehyung’s arms.

He makes his way over to the bathroom and takes off the condom and throws it out. He also gets a small washcloth and wets it before heading back to the room.

Taehyung had pulled out of you while he was gone and his now soft cock rested on his stomach. Taehyung’s eyes were closed and he was pressing soft kisses to your hair as Jimin approached and carefully slid the condom off.

“Sensitive,” Tae warned as Jimin threw the condom out.

He handed you the towel and you got yourself cleaned up and excused yourself to use the bathroom.

Jimin cracked open a window to get rid of the sex smell as Taehyung snuggled deeper into the covers worn out from the activities.

Once you make it back Jimin throws both you and Taehyung clothes to wear.

“Sleep here tonight. It’s late.” He says as you both take the clothes and slowly get dressed.

Taehyung helps Jimin get the bed set up as you clean up the room and once you three are snuggled under the covers with Taehyung in the middle he rests his head on Jimin’s shoulder and mutters out a thank you.

Jimin pets his soft fluffy hair and thanks him back

INDEX

⤷ 01 : a deal for her hand

“you’re getting married. in a week. to jeon jungkook.”

⤷ 02 : forced to say 'I do'

“you’re a monster just like him! i’ll never forgive you or think this is okay. you—you bought me and i'll hate you for it every day for the rest of my life!”

⤷ 03 : strangers under the same roof

“you’ve been through a lot, y/n. i see it in your eyes, but you're still here, still fighting… that’s not weakness. that’s a strength most people don’t have.”

⤷ 04 : an agreement between us

“i married you, y/n because i wanted you, because you made me feel something for the first time in years. i wanted to protect you, to give you everything and now i'm the one paying for your father's lies.”

⤷ 05 : unspoken truths and comfort

“until i saw you that day at your house, when your father brought you to me and you were so… alive, so sweet, even with all the sadness in your eyes. i wanted you.. not just to have you but to make you happy, to give you everything i never had.”

⤷ 06 : healing in his hold

“touch my wife again and you won’t live long enough to regret it. she’s my woman… and you know exactly how possessive i get when someone dares to lay a hand on what’s mine.”

⤷ 07 : soft edges of us

“you’ve been through enough. you don’t have to hide your pain, not from me. if you're hurting or if you need something—tell me. i’m here, i want to be here.”

⤷ 08 : losing ourselves in maldives

“you’re such a dirty little thing, aren’t you? sitting there watching me jerk off? you wish that i was fucking your pussy instead huh?”

⤷ 09 : another day in paradise

“i’ve never wanted a woman like this never begged on my knees for anyone but you, fuck… i’ve wanted you since the day i saw you.”

⤷ 10 : to be released.

EXTRAS

⤷ Q&A with bbv!characters

⤷ teaser

⤷ bbv!jungkook

⤷ bbv!characters moodboard/aesthetic created by some of my lovely readers