Masterlist (II) contains all recent fics for 2022 and ongoing fics from 2021.
WIPs
WIPs is for any ‘Work in Progress’ excerpts that I may post for upcoming fics.
SERIES
- MIN YOONGI/JEON JUNGKOOK -
Rated M: Friends with benefits to lovers; Threesome; Smut; non-idol!AU - CEO!Yoongi; Lawyer!Jungkook - Completed.
I. Harbour | II. Voyage | III. Perfect Storm | IV. Uncharted Territory | V. Bounty | VI. Discoveries | VII. Oasis | VIII. Downpour | IX. Tempest | X. Shipwreck | XI. Lighthouse | AO3.
Drabbles
Voyage: 1.
Uncharted Territory: 1.
Bounty: 1. | 2. (m) |
Discoveries: 1. | 2.
Downpour: 1.
Lighthouse: 1. (m)
- KIM TAEHYUNG -
Rated M: Friends with benefits to lovers; Smut; idol!AU - Completed.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
You chewed at the skin inside your mouth, “I dunno, I wasn’t really thinking about it.”
That seems to trigger a smile in him, his dimples denting deeply, “so you’re saying that it was unintentional but subconscious.”
Swatting his forearm, you burrow under the comforter, “don’t act like it didn’t get you off.”
Warnings/Tags: RATED M (18+) for language; smut (fem-reader; riding; penetrative sex; multiple (squirting) orgasms; overstimulation; slight breeding kink from Namjoon and… *drumroll* daddy kink); idol!AU - established relationship
====
Obligatory disclaimer: This is literally just smut and better yet (or worse yet, you decide), it involves a daddy kink ! Ha !
I thought it would have taken less time for me to crack but I guess timing is an illusion when it comes to assigning the word ‘Daddy’ in fics that involve Namjoon sakdfhjls T.T (i.e., never too late and never not apropos)
Btw, this takes place when Namjoon is back in South Korea to attend Kim Youngjin’s wedding :3
-
It really was spur of the moment - a thing said while lost in the throes of fucking that you didn’t even have time to really process it.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t talked about it prior, more that you were both too shy to admit that it could be a reality. After all, you were easily flustered despite being unbearably comfortable in each other’s company, and now, kinks.
The fragments that you recall was Namjoon thrusting inside you, his face nuzzling the side of your neck. That wasn’t what triggered it, no. His hand on your thigh, holding you down didn’t either. Nor were the careful grinds as his hips plunged down, shoving his cock balls-deep in your cunt.
Though you had the sneaking suspicion that it was the slip of his tongue, the raspy, “fuck, baby” against your skin. Baby’ was a term of endearment that felt like affection and can be sexually charged, especially in this context. But if you were being honest (and if a jury was held to witness), that wasn’t what threw you off. ‘Baby’ you could handle. It rolls off Namjoon’s tongue so nicely that there was nothing to it but forgive.
What really threw both of you was your subsequent response whilst you clutched at the lengthier strands shielding the nape of his neck, his slippery skin under the palm of your hand.
“Daddy,” you gasped, eyes squeezed shut, overwhelmed as your walls pulsed over his length. Something wet jets out and your embarrassment is belated, washed away in the waves of pleasure as you seize, muscles locking tight tight tight.
Not even a second after that, Namjoon comes.
(At the come down, Namjoon goes wide eyed. He glides his palm down your inner thigh, carefully pulling out his glistening cock. It was obscene how filthy the shaft was, the vein that wrapped around it standing to prominence, his come an endless drip outside your swollen folds, rolling down onto the sheets.
“Did you just -
You being no better, lay helplessly trembling in the afterglow, trying to regulate your breathing, “fuck, I think I did.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”)
-
The next time it happens, or the next time you say it, there is no warning, no playful or shy hesitation - no semblance of build up. Just the two of you, tangled and frantic in your movements like always, kisses hot and lips searching, your hands scrabbling at clothes with a need far too elusive to name.
Your mind begins its trail to the start: to when he walked into the apartment in a tailored suit, to the way your eyes observed his hair that became unravelled after he tugged on them to quell his nervousness at being the one to deliver the speech. You try and figure it out - why Namjoon brought out this reaction from you. Whether it’s a sense of urgency at the distance now recoiling, or whether it’s something else.
You climb onto his lap like it’s a daily occurrence, as if you’re being led by a magnetic force, as if to highlight that you belong there and nowhere else. He opens his arms, receiving you soundlessly at first, eyes on how you’re mostly bare while he’s still dressed. There’s a certain smugness to his expression, a knowing look that conveys how he knows that you’re worked up. It wouldn’t be the first (or last) time you’re like this.
You grind your hips, shameless and a little selfish, those slow little rolls that create a heated friction against the seams of Namjoon’s trousers. Each pass is tortuous and shoots a dizzying lick of heat along your spine. He presses his hand against your lower back, guiding you, and you widen your thighs and settle more firmly over him. He gasps for the first time and you kiss him. A messy reunion where your teeth clash, mouths slipping just off-centre, your sighs developing into desperate sounds that claw their way out of your throat whenever Namjoon bites down hard on your bottom lip. Your skin burns under his palms, flushed and fever-bright, shallow breaths like you’ve been chasing this feeling, stoking it while he was away.
Maybe you’re just adjusting to this need. This sudden, insatiable desire to touch, to submit to the weight of his hands, this curious but practiced ease with which he handles you. But tonight, something feels different. Something sharper and desperate laces the air. Almost frenetic, like a mass of vibrations buzzing from the inside wanting to get out.
You barely have time to register, just as his cock slips inside you, this slow purposeful drag almost feeling like you’re being split open, the pulse of your cunt taking him all in, you gasping in his mouth, voice ragged and broken:
“Daddy.”
This time, the word lands like a punch to the gut, an elastic band snapping, stunning you both in this ardent display of vulnerability. He freezes and your hips stutter, your lips brush his and you see him with his blinking eyes staring up at you. For a moment, the world is sucked into a narrow view, to the soft sounds of your breaths, the slick drag of his cock rutting inside you, as if his body is still catching up.
But you snap out of it, keening, and grasp at the smooth fabric of his dress shirt, crumpling the collar so you could drag him towards you, speaking without saying anything, just leaning into how badly you want to get closer. Your thighs clamp around his hips and he leans his head back for a moment, his long neck with a fine sheen of sweat and goosebumps tempting you. His lips are kiss-swollen, his brows furrowing. You place a hand on his chest and feel the way his heart pounds like it’s a trapped thing wanting to get out.
Wordless, his hands ascend from gripping your hips to stopping just below the curve of your breasts, he thumbs slow circles on your nipples, which stiffen at the first brush. You shudder as he takes over, his hips are slow at first, this rocking as if carving his cock inside you, heading somewhere deeper. You moan as he doesn’t break eye contact, his mouth parted as you cling onto him, trembling with anticipation.
“Yeah?” He whispers, breathless, as if he’s still reeling. He meets you again, his lips a light pressure on your mouth. “You want me this bad, baby?” His voice is rough and underneath, you know he’s stunned.
Still, you nod, frantically grinding harder, pussy wet and leaking onto the fabric of his trousers. You try and kiss him, but these dissolve into broken presses of lips and clumsy swipes of your tongue. You’re coming apart at the seams and he seems like he’s calm and in control of himself.
But when you pulse around him, an instant response for the way he takes your nipple, kissing at first then biting it before letting his tongue swipe and soothe, you cry out, already ruined, the pleasure coiling into a warm ache, you feel him lose it a little.
“Fuck,” he groans, the sound is like it’s ripped off of him, from somewhere deep in his chest. You rut helplessly against him, this uncoordinated rhythm, your nails biting through the fabric of his shirt, on the meat of his shoulders, so firm and warm. Your whole body responds in a tremble, you cling to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you grounded. The need seems to pour out of you in waves, intoxicating and inevitable.
“Want me to fuck you full, baby?” He rasps, dragging you down on his cock, his touch pressing harder until it feels bruising.
You whine, this high and wrecked sound, nodding, mouthing at his lips, these pleading kisses which along his jaw, down his neck.
“Doing so good, baby,” he growls, rolling his hips up and inside you in a punishing grind, his hand skimming low, thumbing your clit in slow, lazy circles. “So pretty on my cock, that’s it.”
And he fucks you so good that you shudder, this violent thing taking over your body. You moan as your thighs lock around his hips, a broken whimper spilling from your lips. When your vision is watery, you realise that tears cling to your lashes but you’re too desperate to be embarrassed.
“Please,” you gasp, circling his wrist and dragging his hand down, lower. You press the flat of his fingers over your clit and his eyes widen a little, pupils blown at your actions. “Wanna be full, wanna come on your cock,” you moan, hips twitching as you chase it.
Molten heat floods your body, this thick and wild feeling that’s endless and encompassing. He rubs at your clit, coaxing out a gush of wetness from your pussy, dripping all over his cock. He toys with you with a precise knowledge of your body, what gets you going and wetter. As if he’s warming to the idea of what you’ve been calling him lately, stepping into it like he’s known all along.
“Gonna fuck you so full,” he murmurs, forehead pressed against yours, his breath is ragged, desperate, “because you’re made for me.”
You hear a broken sob before you realise it’s actually coming from you, this real and primal reaction. You grind down harder, revelling in the way his cock drags in and out of you, the fading sting of your pussy stretching to take him in, cunt so wet it smears against the dark fabric of his trousers, shading it even darker, your whole body vibrating.
“So pretty,” he praises, hands curving over your ass to spread you open. His eyes roam along your naked skin, as he bites his bottom lip, the plush pink of it turning berry-red, his expression just as wanton.
Then, he says something, something that sounds so good delivered in the deep rasp of his voice.
“Jus’ feel so good, baby, letting me breed your pussy.”
Oh fuck.
You shatter into helpless pieces. You cry out, this long and high whine as you come with a violent jerk of your hips, this pressure that builds inside of you finally finding a release. He places his thumb over your clit, rubbing fast and not letting up, until you’re thrashing from it, and you gasp when his cock slips out, a hard stream of clear fluid in a strong burst soaks his lap, your thighs tremble as he moans.
“Baby,” he laughs.
You squirt again, a messy dribble over his cockhead and it’s the hottest thing to see as he groans at the sight.
The breath is knocked out of you but you follow the thread of pleasure, circling your shaking hand around his cock, hissing at the hot weight of it. He throws his head back when you sink over him, your pussy and its soft gape taking him in, soaked and pulsing. You grind down, eyes squeezed, finding that coil of pleasure under the layers of the bright sting of overstimulation. His hands find the hair from your nape and tugs. You moan so loud, head falling back as he shoves his hips up.
And you decide, fuck it.
“There,” you gasp, breathless and rough. “Ah, right there, Daddy.”
Namjoon’s snapping thrusts are unforgiving, he keeps fucking you, one hand on your hip, the other on your hair. You dig your knees in and somehow keep an elevated position so when he fucks up, the shallow thrust of his cock feels so good. You’re so far gone that your body feels like a live-wire, your muscles taking on that twinge, sore but heavy with pleasure.
He works his cock inside you and you know he’s chasing his own pleasure. The thought of him just using you to get off makes you moan and the slow pulse of your cunt around him feels so right. He’s gasping now, letting out these ruined groans as his cock spears you.
You lean forward, almost collapsing your body on top of him as he takes over. It feels so good to dive into the heat of him, feeling your pussy stretching as you take his cock and over and over.
“D-don’t stop, Daddy” you sob, your eyes suddenly wet with tears.
“Ah, fuck,” he swears, caught off-guard. His hips move faster, the wet sounds of your pussy so loud in the space.
“Yeah? Can you come again for me, hm? Daddy wants to hear it, baby.”
The tremble in his voice suggests he feels clumsy but there’s a warmth to it, too. Prickling heat pours into your spine and you say it again.
Daddy.
And you sense that something snaps inside him, as if he’s finally accepted it and stepping into it like it’s the most apt thing. You, on top of him, pussy so tight around his thick cock, so full and asking for things that’ll make you both blush when you think about them later.
“Oh, ahn, ah -” you moan, voice getting softer, gasps climbing and your arms pressing around his shoulders, feeling it, letting it wash over you. “Gonna, ahn, gonna come Daddy, ah - ”
“Go on, baby,” he whispers by your ear, his voice so deep it makes you dizzy. “Come on Daddy’s cock.”
You let out this broken sob as you grab at his shoulders just to stop yourself from dissolving, to anchor yourself to reality. You come so hard, the force of it is followed by a hard stream of fluid again, a messy squirt that renders everything into a bright, sparking sluice of pleasure. But then you feel him move, his hips snapping too fast, it pulls the breath out of your lungs and makes you gasp. He lets out a rough sound, arms strapped around you to keep you in place, and you just… take it. Your sobs are whiny and desperate, your pussy splashing more wet with every burst of pleasure, another small splash as he groans your name.
“Please, Daddy,” you moan, unsure of what exactly you’re begging for.
Namjoon comes and he thrusts inside you so deep that his thighs tremble. You cry out, squirting again, a sudden heated gush, everything is soaked and so wet. Your moans are soft, ah, ahn, broken and breathy as Namjoon’s cock twitches his release. He fills you so well as he presses his check against your temple, his hips jerking up as you pulse around him.
“J-joon, ah.”
Namjoon hums, sounds just as dazed as you are. Something about the messiness of it, the feral way you’ve been fucking these days, the way his come leaks out of you, mixed with your own slick. You like the idea of it, of keeping it inside, plugging you up.
He sweeps his hand on your back, damp with sweat. You shiver and tighten around him. He groans and flinches. You kiss his nose.
“You good, baby?”
You nod, going pliant. You slump over him, kissing him in a slow, unhurried way. But it turns filthy, the wet smack of it, the way your tongue slides against his, you arch your back, taking him deeper.
Deeper until his hand flies on your hips, he hisses as you rock over his cock.
“W-wait, ah fuck,” he gasps, throwing his head back. You pet his hair as he shudders and it’s like you can feel it, the way his cock jerks and lets out a dribble of come inside you. He grabs at your ass, both hands spreading you open, rutting against you.
You’re sensitive and it’s slippery all over, your cunt swollen and soft. But he looks so good, so hot that the jut of his jaw suggests he’s not going to stop anytime soon. You groan, head dropping back, pussy so open and full.
It feels so good that you lean close, kissing him so you can whisper what’s been on your mind.
“Fuck me again, Daddy.”
-
In the early morning hours, you’re lying next to a startlingly lucid and curious Namjoon. You supposed that you were both shy as you reflected over last night. All things considered, objectively and rather gratifyingly, there was nothing to be fretting about. Most couples would call what happened as ‘stellar’ or ’10 out of 10, would do again, if possible.’
Particularly with Namjoon being more vocal in the end and the fact that the sofa didn’t survive it at all. Not to mention his custom-made suit. You buried your hands at the casualties. But when you took it to the bedroom and got tangled up again in the middle of the night, you added the sheets to your growing list of irretrievables.
Now, you were tucked under mismatched ones as apparently, you realise that you had sex more often than what you could launder. You smoothed over the patterns, blue willow for the comforter and gold ginkgo leaves against a teal background for the pillows. It could be kitsch but who cares? The previous sheets weren’t sullied in vain and the usual microfibre ones were currently being rattled inside the drum of the dryer.
“Was that intentional?”
You chewed at the skin inside your mouth, “I dunno, I wasn’t really thinking about it.”
That seems to trigger a smile in him, his dimples denting deeply, “so you’re saying that it was unintentional but subconscious.”
Swatting his forearm, you burrow under the comforter, “don’t act like it didn’t get you off.”
Namjoon’s eyes turn mischievous, they do this kind of rapid observation, narrowing a little. You decide to test it out, already well acquainted with the idiosyncrasies of your relationship.
“Daddy.”
He slaps his hand over his face, visibly flustered. Then, he webs his fingers, sharp eyes going from brown to amber in the low light. Something clicks in your mind, a lightbulb if you will.
“Daddy,” you giggled, familiarising yourself with the vowels. It’s foreign but oddly, it suited him. Although he looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole at this moment.
“I take it back, I’m sorry,” he scrambles.
“Daddy,” you said again, poking his rib.
He drags you towards him in a fierce hug till you’re squirming and laughing. “Stop it,” he chuckles, his voice a deep rumble coming all the way in his chest, his warnings rather tame when on your skin.
Capitulating was easy but it didn’t take much to set you off again. And when Namjoon least expects it, you say it again, letting the end tail off into a faux moan.
This time, Namjoon’s lack of protest sends the heat snaking up your spine.
That, and the fact that you feel something hard brushing you.
“Oh,” he says, utterly surprised. As if he was looking at his dick for the first time and learning of its automatic capabilities.
“Oh,” you echoed, charmed.
But when you open your mouth to say the magic word, he kisses you.
Then, he ends up pinning you down and not really stopping you from saying what you liked. And later, you don’t end up gathering the freshly laundered sheets from the dryer.
You decided too that blue willow and ginkgo were a match made in heaven.
Hey, I really loved your recent drabble, especially the elephant trunk bit part because I was thinking of it too recently. Anyways, I just went through your masterlist and did you delete your stories on AO3?
Hi!
😭🤣 thank you for noticing that small detail! The realisation hit me and I couldn't miss the opportunity to include it 😆
And to answer your questions about AO3, I didn't delete my stories but I placed them in a private collection. I wanted my fics to be in one place instead and I think Tumblr is what I prefer
Also, thank you for reading and loving the drabble! 🧡
"You know how I can’t sleep much when we’re apart,” he mutters, kissing you lightly. His lips taste like the cherry lip balm you keep in the bathroom.
“I think it’s the time-zones,” you reply, opening your mouth at the first slide of his tongue. “Not that you’re missing me in particular.”
He chuckles, "I really do miss you."
Warnings/Tags: RATED M (18+); for language, smut (fem-reader, oral (f-receiving); fingering; multiple orgasms; penetrative sex; squirting); fluff; idol!AU - established relationship.
====
You should know that I toyed with the alternative title of ‘Please sleep, I have to work’ fghfglkl
I missed this couple so I hope you enjoy this self-indulgent drabble. Something short, sweet, and filthy. The best kind of drabble there is, imho.
-
There’s a singular lamp casting soft shadows against the wall. It’s sometime in the evening, late, and you’re stripped down to your underwear and an oversized shirt. Taehyung’s muscular build emits more heat than usual and it’s like sleeping next to a furnace.
“You woke up early today,” you mumble, eyes closing.
“New habits.” He brushes the hair away to expose the nape of your neck, “did you like the breakfast I made?”
“Mhm,” you sigh, feeling his lips place a tender kiss on your neck.
You mentioned how you preferred scrambled eggs and some avocado toast these days. Simple and familiar, not too arduous to prepare. Summer also demands iced coffee in a sizable tumbler. Taehyung always delivers that whenever he’s home. This morning, he surprised you by being the first to rise, something he took pride in ever since his discharge.
“I have to go away soon,” he says, like he’s musing.
You cover your face suddenly. You don’t know why you’re overwhelmed by a known fact. His schedule has been set up months before and he had commitments, too. Taehyung shifts and gently turns you on your back, his hands taking your wrists, revealing your face.
“Oh, why, what’s wrong?”
He looks concerned but waits for you to reply. Up close like this, you can’t help but be transparent with your features in spite of the contrary words you say.
“Nothing,” you pout.
Still, he waits. His strong arms frame you and his hair is askew. He’s so adorable that your chest aches at the thought of being apart again.
“I mean, I know it’s for work but it sucks that you’re leaving again.”
Your honesty breaks something in him and reveals a softer expression. One that understands the implications of his job, the part of him that somehow belongs to the world.
“Ah,” he says, pressing his forehead against yours.
You told him last time he visited that you don’t want to hear his apologies unless it’s for something that actually warrants it. After all, how can he apologise for doing something that he loves?
The distance isn’t difficult to breach, you’ve flown out before under the care of the agency. But the process opened your eyes to a fraction of what they, as a group, must go through often. The only consolation was Taehyung waiting on the other side, his embrace being the warmest thing you craved, finally real.
“It’s just for a week and a bit,” he reasons. “Then you have that work thing in LA so you’ll be there earlier than me. Yoongi-hyung can show you around.”
You roll your eyes, “all he wants to do is go to the mall or watch basketball games. I told him I wanted to go hiking and then he pretended not to hear me!”
He starts laughing, “ay, don’t be like that to Min PD.”
“He’s such a grandpa, honestly,” you smile, utterly fond of Yoongi and his penchant for courtside games and black and white shirts.
“I’ll miss you anyway,” you say, circling your arms around his neck. He’s so firm, his muscles have really filled out and despite losing the excess bulk he still manages to look… big. You commented the other day that the two moles on his arm, the one where he would pinch the skin in the middle to create an elephant trunk, have grown apart.
Your elephant trunk must be huge by now.
He almost choked on the strawberry he was eating, Excuse me?
I meant your arm! The two moles!
To which you proceeded to demonstrate your point. He just ended up laughing so hard he snorted.
“You know how I can’t sleep much when we’re apart,” he mutters, kissing you lightly. His lips taste like the cherry lip balm you keep in the bathroom.
“I think it’s the time-zones,” you reply, opening your mouth at the first slide of his tongue. “Not that you’re missing me in particular.”
He chuckles, “I really do miss you.”
Sometimes it floors you how handsome he is, bare-faced with his hair rumpled just from running his hand (and yours, too) through it. The thought makes you smile. He notices your attention and he bites his bottom lip, as if in anticipation. You kiss him first in response to the sudden throb between your legs. It’s a slow unfurling of desire borne from the implicit acceptance of the distance you’ve endured and what you’ll endure again, so soon.
Things heat up pretty quickly, though. His hand seeking skin under your shirt, yours tugging at the band of his boxers, finding him hard. It spurs you just as he lowers his hips, grinding against you, selfish and honest in his wants. You cage his hips, suck in a breath and -
“Yah - oof!”
He’s on his back and you giggle at the surprise change in position. He stares at you, a little dumbfounded. Like this, his tan skin is a contrast to the white sheets, the scatter of moles or fine freckles on his chest, the way his muscles flex as he rests his hands on your hips. His ragged breath because really, he’s worked up.
“You let me do that on purpose,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him. He shrugs, smiling.
“No, you’ve gotten really strong,” he replies, thumbing your underwear.
You shake your head, “I think you like being manhandled more than you let on.”
A blush creeps onto his cheeks, “aish, I do not.”
But the bubbling laugh he’s trying so hard to subdue signals otherwise.
“Ah the irony,” you breathe, leaning close, capturing his lips in a kiss. “Even more now that you’re twice the size.”
He scoffs against your lips, “I’ve gotten smaller since then.”
You settle your weight, closer to the bulging shape of his cock. “What a shame.”
Taehyung tips his head back and groans.
He curves his hand around your waist and you can tell he’d settle for anything, any morsel of you. The idea makes you giddy and a little shy. You realise that between you, you were the more provocative one, enjoying how he follows your lead. It brings a silly thrill that the Kim Taehyung melts in his reserve and loses that suave the moment you amp it up. It doesn’t even matter what you’re wearing. You recall one night when he had to return to base again and you were in a ratty t-shirt with plenty of stains and yet, he couldn’t get enough.
Is it because you have to leave soon?
Don’t be modest, he sighed between your shoulderblades. Can’t I find my girlfriend hot?
I’m literally in a t-shirt with Shrek on it. He’s in his swamp with his chest hair covered in mud.
He laughed so much that time. So hot.
By the time morning came, the kitchen was a mess and you were off to work thinking about the early hours of the day, when you couldn’t get your hands off of each other. He’s right to say that he was bigger then, more muscular and more heft. Obsessed was what you were, always squeezing his arms, running your touch along his back. To which he would duck out of shyness, as if he is aware of his body for the first time.
You try a tentative rock of your hips, grinding down until he gasps. He’s not firm in his grip on your waist, despite your feverish urge. Some part of you wants this to last, to be stuck in this cozy alcove where the lights are soft and the pleasure is endless. You kiss him and realise, for the first time, that your glasses are getting in the way.
What were you doing before this?
Oh, right.
In your periphery is the book you were reading last. Only thirty pages left until Taehyung rested his chin over your shoulder, his hands wandering. Suddenly, the sentences began to blur, despite your new prescription you received a month back. You both wore glasses but your eyes fared better wearing them most of the time. You teased Taehyung about his ‘kiosk-glasses’, how can see fine but preferred the aesthetic of different frames.
Now, your glasses press against Taehyung’s cheeks so you swiftly remove them, leaning away to place them somewhere visible and safe. You lean forward, pressing your lips and gasping as his tongue pushes against your own. It already satisfies a part of you that’s desperate to bridge the gap, creating more teasing pressure over his cock. The fabric of your underwear dampens and his cock gives a hard twitch.
“Fuck,” he groans, lifting his hips. Once, you made each other come just by humping. It was like an adolescent tableau, premature and inevitable. Taehyung made up for it, though. You never left the bedroom for most of the day, only to drink some water and have a snack.
“You’re so hard,” you whisper, kissing along his jaw. He always smells good after a shave. His skin is smooth and warm, you kiss the mole on his cheek. “You need to come, don’t you?”
He inhales sharply and then exhales slowly. He says your name like a plea. But, as you’ve come to know, as a vie for control, he runs his hands along your body with the sole objective of taking your shirt off. You let him and his hands are back on you in an instant, feeling the shape of you, thumbs grazing your nipples. You moan, arching into his touch.
You grind over him and he shudders, as if -
“Yeah, just, ah,” he moans. His hands grip your waist, guiding you. His brows furrow and his mouth twists, if you didn’t know him well enough, you’d think he’s in anguish. But the state of his cock, how hard he is right now, the way you grind harder in a mindless almost animalistic act. The pressure builds that you tense as he holds you in place, bucking his hips once then again, spilling in his underwear. He buries his nose at the base of your throat, his tongue soothing over the thrum of your pulse as you shiver.
The feeling settles and you pull back to look at him.
And he meets you with this kind of look: flushed cheeks, slightly parted mouth, and glassy eyes.
He looks ruined.
You glance down and he follows. He hisses at the darkened stain on his underwear and how yours isn’t faring well either, soaked through in the front, all wet and sticky. Goosebumps flourish along your skin, your nipples harden as your stomach tenses again. You lift yourself but not before noting how he squeezes your waist, as if not wanting to part.
“It’ll be easier if,” you start, tongue-tied.
“Uh, yeah,” he says, helping.
He watches as you peel it off, especially where the slick gathers and forms these strings of arousal that stretch and snap off as you discard your underwear. You’re long past the shyness now, eager to have him inside. His own hands stop him from removing his boxer, a little transfixed at your nakedness, the way your pussy is bare for him.
You’ve seen each other naked so many times but the way he responds to the mere sight of your body is enchanting, his want is so transparent that it never fails to instill this kind of confidence in you. Although you have a good relationship with your body, having his attention on you like this can only be a benefit.
You tug at the waistband and free him of any other constraints. He doesn’t look away from you as he licks his lips.
“Lie down for me,” he says, his voice gruff.
You blink, distracted from his hardening cock. “You don’t have to.”
“Any chance of you accepting that maybe I want to?” He asks, exasperated.
You laugh, “I’m kidding. I’m only teasing you.”
He sits up and guides you on your back, kissing you again. It’s a tender one, full of promise. Then, he carries on downwards, hands parting your thighs wide, thumbs doing the same to your folds. Your clit peeks, stiff and needy. You hold your breath, stomach tensing. He noses at your hip and prompts that slow bloom of arousal, that steady anticipation.
At first, you’re quiet, biting your lip as he starts with these tentative licks. The broad strokes of his tongue are merely exploratory, deliberate in the way he misses your clit, only dipping at your dripping center. But then his grip tightens on your thighs, keeping them splayed, the warm give of your flesh heating further. You look down at him and he’s enjoying it, eyes fluttering shut to focus, the way his mouth moves on you, his tongue flicking gently.
Then he opens his eyes and meets your gaze.
And after a few laps against your soaked cunt, the wide strokes and curl of his tongue on your clit, he grows more insistent and a whine escapes your lips. Your toes curl as you feel yourself getting wetter, his nose nudges against your damp skin, and he coaxes more slick that you’re lightheaded. There’s the shy tilt of your hips to chase and encourage, you’re sinking into the pleasure fast that you almost miss the way he’s stroking himself, the defined muscle of his arm tensing, releasing, tensing.
The image gets to you more than you can anticipate and it turns you on so much that you gasp as he sucks your clit. Firmer licks as he grips your ass to keep your movements still, your eyes flutter shut, aware of how sensitive you’ve become.
“T-taehyung,” you gasp, clutching at his shoulder. You feel the jut of his jaw, the way he knows just when the pleasure tips into oblivion and you almost cry out when he coaxes two fingers inside you. The slight pressure causes your thighs to tremble against his hold.
You’re coming in an instant as Taehyung drops his mouth over you, lapping you up in a feverish haste. You ride the movements of his tongue, breath stuttering, head dropping back and feet sliding apart. You spread yourself wild, vaguely aware of the mess of your squirt on his chin, his chest, moaning as he focuses on your clit, sealing his mouth over your pussy, his tongue rubbing and rubbing with steady, teasing licks.
“Ah,” you gasp, feeling sensitive, grasping at his shoulders, not quite pushing, not quite grabbing either. “Ah.”
Your fingers reach the back of his head, cupping the curve of where it tapers to the nape of his neck, the heady sweat-damp touch on his hair, the finer strands matting under your hold. His hand strokes himself faster now, getting off as you hurtle into another orgasm, his mouth dragging new wetness, fingers thrusting inside you, pulling out the pleasure. You curl forward, gasping short and quick breaths, body straining and your abdominal muscles quiver. Your thighs twitch, framing Taehyung’s face, his fingers working inside you, curling and thrusting, splattering wetness that has nowhere to go. You come again, slick pulses and another gush of slick and a shy dribble of squirt, you twist your hips, your stuttering moans making you hoarse. Warm splashes hit Taehyung’s palm as your hips jerk away, the clear mess of your squirt spills. And when he groans against you, a gush escapes in a shy trickle before erupting into a harder, more prominent spray. Taehyung licks slow and you shudder hard through your orgasm, dizzy and floating.
“Fuck,” you say between gritted teeth as you let Taehyung pull you further up the bed. He hovers over you and clumsily guides the head of his cock at the smearing wet of you.
Sometimes Taehyung begs without words, like when he never seems to part from you as you change positions, keen on being stuck together without so much as a tiny gap between, and other times, well…
“Please,” he pants, utterly past the point of restraint as he laps at the sheen of sweat on your skin, you widen your legs, hiking them up as he uses the heft of his shoulders to push them high. He steadies himself by gripping your waist, skimming his cock where you’re plush, slick, and needy. He bucks his hips, almost as if he’s stopping himself until he’s found that spot where, when you’re connected, squeezes him in a sudden, slick hold.
Then, because you’re operating on pure pleasure and the filter on your mind is somewhat porous, you enjoy the way he sighs into your mouth, moaning as he sinks inside you, the soft-give of your pussy enveloping him.
“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, thighs seizing at the pressure. You’re no stranger to how big he is but it still startles even if you’re taking things slow. Your arms find his shoulders and he starts to thrust. You gasp at the fullness, the sudden ache of pleasure lancing through you, the way it makes you wetter and stickier between your thighs. You get noisy, tucking your moans against the humid skin of the column of his neck, the obscene schlick-schlick-schlick, of your pussy taking him in over and over. He sinks deeper each time, the wetness of you easing the stretch and your attempts to meet him halfway dissolves and you focus on grasping at his arms, fingernails making crescents on his tan skin.
Taehyung fucks harder in a frenzied pace, almost uncaring as he chases his own pleasure and takes you along. He’s not holding back as your pussy opens up for him, the heat builds and blazes between you both and your moans climb in pitch.
“T-taehyung,” you breathe, a strained version of your voice, close to whining as you claw at his back. “Gonna come, ‘m gonna come.”
He growls and presses you onto the bed, thrusting faster, his muscles flexing into a firm hardness, sweat coating his skin as he buries his groan into your kiss. Your orgasm comes in a blinding rush just as he pumps his come inside you, those short almost aborted thrusts rubbing against your clit that you shudder.
You both stay like that for a few moments, your mind is blank as you float. Thoughts come back slowly then all at once, the way Taehyung’s heart is rabbity, your limbs are static, the shared heat, the dampness between you. The feeling of him filling you, feeling it spill out in excess.
Taehyung kisses you, lips searching and soft. You hum against his mouth, trading lazy kisses, so sweet it makes your toes curl. There’s still the drowsy, slick-heat pulse of your pussy around him and he thrusts inside again, as if trying to get deeper.
One time, you were both impatient and you ended up bruising in places you didn’t even think you could bruise. Like your cervix. Even if you were totally fine with getting a little rough, it took you two weeks to recover. Taehyung was so apologetic that time, he hurried back from work with all sorts of remedies like heat pads and underwear that was two sizes too big.
You laugh all of the sudden and it breaks his concentration.
“W-what,” he stutters, stopping himself from pushing inside you. You shake your head.
“Remember when you bruised my cervix?”
You see his eyes widen, “are you in any pain?” He begins to lift his hips and you immediately dig your heels on the small of his back. The way his expression sours while trying his best to convince himself that he might have to pull out is devastatingly endearing.
“No! I was just remembering!”
You tuck some stubborn strands of his hair behind his ear. His cheeks are so red right now, it’s adorable.
“I’m still sorry about that, by the way.”
You scrunch your nose, “half the blame’s on me. I told you to keep going.”
He sighs, “yeah but I should have had some idea -”
You laugh, “that your dick’s too big?”
He presses his lips shut but not before admitting it. “Yeah.”
You shift your hips, a slow but definite rocking that looks like you’re trying to find the right angle. Taehyung’s brows lift and he sneaks a hand between you, his thumb teasing your swollen clit and you gasp. Your stomach tenses, oversensitive but brazen in the way you seek more. The sharp sensation melts as you gush more wetness, aware that Taehyung is still inside you and is still hard.
You touch your forehead against his, you can’t help but look at where you’re connected and groan at the way his cock glistens and the way your pussy is hot, swollen, and so wet. He keeps circling his thumb over your clit, kissing you suddenly so that it softens your moan. Only then does he ask -
“Can you come again?”
And you nod, a newfound pleasure coursing through you.
-
It takes a while to find the initiative to change the sheets.
Taehyung has more energy to find spare ones in the wardrobe, a striped pattern in green. You’re winded, obviously, and take a couple of minutes before you join the effort. He chuckles at your trembling legs and you swat him.
“You keep making me squirt,” you huff, smoothing out the wrinkles on the fitted sheet by wagging it. He throws you a cheeky smile.
“And that’s a bad thing?”
Your face heats up as you notice the pile of sheets in the corner. It’ll swamp the laundry basket, like how you don’t really see the body of the wicker basket because it’s, more often than not, overflowing from the amount of times you have to change the sheets. Not to mention your poor washer-dryer having to take the brunt of it. Maybe you’re just being dramatic.
“Bad for the environment,” you mutter, settling over the bed. He follows suit, lifting the comforter up and over you both.
You squirm as you get comfortable.
The recent upgrade to an even bigger sized bed doesn’t even make a dent to the lack of space between you. His hand smooths along your thigh, a curious touch. It leaves a trail of heat, like the beginning of something. Although there’s a snag in your mind: it’s a weekday tomorrow despite his time off. The difficulty is finding a compromise between spending your time together in a meaningful way rather than having to bargain for lunch instead of a full day being free. Work has your time blocked for most of the day and when you finally clock out, the deep blue of the horizon signals the evening. You don’t even know where the hours went.
“Taehyung…”
“Hgnh?”
His curious fingers cup your breasts, one hand closing in an affectionate squeeze.
“Please, go to sleep. I have to work.”
Then he’s laughing so much, it threatens to rouse you. He tickles your sides and brings out one of your ugly laughs, a sudden guffaw that sounds off pitch as he pinches your sides. You grasp his wrists in a plea and he mitigates his strength.
“Taehyung!”
“What!” He complains without much force behind it. He’s still laughing, hand over his mouth like he’s trying to trap the giggles in.
“I’m being so serious,” you gasp, prying his fidgety fingers from lifting your shirt higher. Even if you wanted another round, it’s 2:00am and you have an 8.30am meeting.
Then, he stops and puts on a stoic expression. Your eyes widen at the change in atmosphere. “I’m so sorry, I get it. Sleep is more important.”
You twist to see him and his eyemask is at a jaunty angle on his forehead, his hair sticking up and in all directions.
“Pfft.” You seal your lips together, trying not to add to the laughter. But you’re so happy these days and anything goes.
“You say that and go live for all but five minutes,” you huff, gently flicking his forehead as he peppers your face with wet, smacking kisses.
“You love it though,” he teases, giggling now, these uncontrolled bursts making your heart feel so full.
And although it takes you a moment to say it, with words that sometimes feel inadequate to reflect how you really feel, you let him love you like this, free and willing. Because a small part of you remembers how long it took for you to be together again and in the grand scheme of things, while this might just be a dot on the page, it didn’t make it any less hard to say goodbye when the time came.
So you nuzzle his nose, embrace him tightly and kiss the curve of his ear.
Also, if the formatting sucks and the links are incomplete, it's because I don't have my laptop with me but I'm not about to quash the desire to post some smut!! 😤😤 will fix everything up as soon as I'm able
Saw his 7min weverse live and couldn't stop myself from cracking up, especially from the "Please sleep, I have to work." 😭😭
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
No Mattter How It Ends. | Prologue. | Kim Taehyung, 2k
Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader
Summary: Taehyung is recognised here and there, so he spends his nightlife underground, in bluesy cafés with a trickle of jazz playing in the background in a gentle thrum. He dances, unaware, and whether this was acting or not, it was believable to an ordinary bystander that he was happy. You review films for a living, content behind the scenes. But there was a time when you were both students, aimless and tender-hearted. You meet again somehow and it takes you back, questioning where the memories went and whether you can make up for lost time.
Warnings/Tags: Rated T, angst, actor!Taehyung x film critic!Reader; eventual flashback to college day so brace yourselves (T>T); alcohol; palpable heartache (I'm sorry but I'm back)
======
This was the mini-series I had in the works and I finally have the courage to roll it out! This is a short prologue before we get into the meat of the story.. I had fun brainstorming how it could go (despite the angst that came with it dlghjk). Also, I'm so pleased to start another Taehyung series :') He looks so gorgeous in Paris, I feel spoilt. As per, I hope you're having a wonderful start to the week, I'm so excited to finally be able to publish this, you have no idea :3
======
-
You spot Taehyung first, unintentionally or by instinct. Either way, it's hard to ignore a face plastered on billboards or the side of buses nowadays.
He dances, his moves unchanged since college. This time though, it has an added flair. He moves along the empty spaces sporting a smile on his face, he tilts it towards the artificial lights. It allows him to brush against the dancing couples largely without consequence.
Taehyung was always going to be like that: handsome and carefree.
It’s been years but there’s a twinge in your chest, tightening it into something weird.
You sit with it as you survey how Taehyung floats along way too immersed in the music to even care that someone was staring.
There’s the weight of the bartender’s gaze on your profile. You acknowledge it and decide to get up, leaving your drink half finished.
Perhaps embarrassed from breaking one of the cardinal rules of judging a customer, the bartender busies himself with an already clean glass as you shrug your coat on. The arms stiffen due to your sleeves bunching up. You expel a deep sigh, dejected over a small mishap. Summoning the patience, you slip it off again.
"Hey."
You turn and Taehyung, with that brilliant smile and equally bright eyes, recognises you. He says your name fondly, and you're transported back to the washed out memories of college. Pinstripe sheets and strawberry kisses that were too sweet for your own good. You stare at him, no doubt looking dumbfounded but he regards you with alarming familiarity, bypassing any non-verbal politeness expected of two distant friends, maybe strangers.
You swallowed, your heart fluttering all sorts of wrong.
Say something.
"Hi."
The lights in the bar continue to pivot, stripping the darkness in bright flashes for a second or two.
He doesn't let you go but his hold loosens.
It's odd to meet like this, especially since you didn't want to be seen.
"How are you?"
The question is asked before you could gather yourself. Inwardly, it echoes, the answers coming up in a multitude of possibilities.
"Good," you managed, sounding strange.
He gives you a funny look.
"Good? It's been a while, it has to be more than good, right?"
Your brows knit, you tug your arm back and start to wear your coat. You didn't care if the sleeves bunched up again. The familiarity he’s worked hard to assert seemed misplaced, out of tune. The lights mellow into a greenish hue, vignetting the surroundings.
Has it?
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
His expression morphs and despite the poor lighting, he seems surprised by your honesty.
To expel the acute awkwardness of the moment, you mention that you have an appointment early tomorrow morning. He asks where and you tell him. He mentions that his hotel is where the press conference is held, and around the same time. It doesn’t take long for him to realise that you were attending the press conference for his new movie. He goes red, ducks his head in a kind of diffident response, like you’d just exposed him to the otherwise apathetic crowd.
“Can’t you give me an hour? I’d like to catch up with you.”
He offers a small smile, like a facsimile of one you've glimpsed before. One that doesn't make it in his work, one that's personal and so... him.
Time waits, patient as ever and Taehyung's eyes grow hopeful. Something you recognise despite the years trying to stretch what you shared into static noise. Taehyung acting like a concerned friend meant that there were too many walls backing you into a corner. Nearby, an older man with a husky voice orders a whiskey neat. Taehyung’s eyes don’t waver. Later on you wonder if it would have made any difference if you said no.
You take a deep breath.
“Sure.”
-
Your hotel room is pokey and exudes a Bohemian chic that typifies recent renovations happening across most hospitality chains. Normally, you’d book them yourself but film premieres promised novelties that you couldn’t resist. Besides, it offers a brilliant view of the city with its famous bridge alongside the gentle, lapping waves of the water. A postcard scene that can’t be captured on camera: you have to see it yourself to believe it’s real.
Two empty wine glasses look lonely besides a ceramic ashtray. Taehyung eyes the ring on your finger and you make a noise to signal your awareness of it. It’s disorienting having him in front of you like this. You’re both on top of the bed, clothed, tipsy, and vulnerable.
You were superimposing two-dimensional images on top of a three-dimensional one. The result is strange if not jarring. Taehyung’s fame permeated every available space in Seoul. He’s an ambassador to any relevant company; there wasn’t a local or city-dweller who didn’t know who he was. His new CF for Olive Young aired three days ago and now, they’ve reached Busan’s bus shelters. You couldn’t have looked elsewhere if you tried.
Right now, though, he’s plainly handsome. Just as he was then. Tanned with dark hair, but with the ease of someone who knows he’ll be loved wherever he goes.
“Ah, just for show.”
He raises his eyebrows, “but were you?”
You nod, “ended a year ago.”
A sharp feeling of embarrassment courses through you, has it really been a year? You realise that the ring is no longer something you can’t remove. Keeping it on feels like a farce. You live alone and adopted a Labradoodle, who you’ve checked into a pet hotel for a couple of days. You wonder if it’s too late to send it back to its breeder since it dawns on you that you travel for work two-hundred and seventy days out of the year.
“What?” You ask, awkward.
“Why’d it end?”
You shift, wrinkling the sheets further. “It’s exactly what you think it is.”
Taehyung purses his lips, one corner denting inwards into a convoluted, downturn expression. “He cheated?”
You punch him lightly on the arm and he collapses in laughter.
“No - we fell out of love.”
“How tragically romantic.”
You grimace, hit with a wave of unwanted memories. The wine you had in hand in a regular glass has grown warm but you drink it anyway.
“I’d rather he cheated actually.”
Taehyung sobers, resting his head on the flat of his palm. He’s still the same after all these years that makes you grateful.
“How come?”
You take a deep breath, “because that meant that I wasn’t the cause of it ending.”
He could sense something there in the undercurrent. It wasn’t that hard given that you were three glasses in, telling the truth a little too easily. Taehyung has always been a good listener, but it’s different now. You were proper adults with more stakes at risk. College seems so far away now.
“Sorry.” He says.
You feel like you ruin everything you touch these days, so you shrug.
“’M not the first one to suffer like this.”
“Certainly won’t be the last,” he said, crass.
“Where’d you pick that line up?”
Taehyung smiles, a little wistful but honest. “It’s actually in a script I’m reading.”
You try to understand him, perhaps he had nothing to say. Years of radio silence and now you’ve led him to the deep end. Then again, you and Taehyung walked on a tightrope when it came to talking. Saying what you never mean, always living in the silences between words and sentences. It would have been fair if he had seen you, too. If you had been a passive image in his life, would he feel as uneasy as you?
Is this why he has the courage to look you in the eye and search for the past, reckless in his presence and questions.
“It’s been a while since you’ve been in a drama. Sounds like something Park Kwang-Su would make someone say.”
He chuckles, this deep yet yielding sound. He swipes his hand across the space between you, ironing the wrinkles of the sheets. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it. He fidgets when he’s nervous. The tips of his fingers brush your forearm. You don’t pull away. You meet him in the eye as if you were goading him to say something, like picking up where you left off. Maybe it’s the wine making you braver. Or stupid. You’re a different person these days and you were still trying to make your mind up on whether that’s a good thing or not. He looks good even in the soft lightning, his dark hair slightly frizzy from him ruffling it too much. His lashes are longer, his lips are a light pink. When he talks, it’s a slower cadence as if he’s picking his words carefully.
So when he says what he says you feel a shift in the air.
“Did you ever think about us?”
It takes you a moment to recover. To make sense of his question and what it means and whether it matters to answer sincerely. You lower your gaze on the white sheets. Your brows furrow, the emotion you feel is suddenly incomprehensible.
“Taehyung -”
He leans close and on instinct you lean back. His expression suggests he’s wounded and he pulls back, rubs his lips with the flat of his fingers.
“I’m sorry, that was too forward.”
“No,” you say, finally. “I just didn’t expect it.”
“I just didn’t expect to see you again and now that we’re here, I don’t know how to get my words out.”
“Taehyung, it's fine. It’s probably a shock, I didn’t think we’d meet again like this, to be honest.”
“Why didn’t you call or write?”
You sigh. “That was a long time ago.”
“I waited for you, you know.”
You remember that he starred in a lesser known indie film before he gained this fame. It was about a soldier who was kidnapped by the opposition and held hostage. He fell in love with an officer’s daughter and the film hinged on their epistolary relationship. Eventually, he was released and struggled to adapt to the real world. She never made the effort to look for him despite her promises. It was your fifth review and your blog suddenly gained traction online. People liked how you received the film.
“I’m sorry.”
You see the clench of his jaw. “Is that all you can say?”
“What else can I say?”
The hurt in his eyes is something you can’t ignore. It places responsibility on your shoulders. It was long enough that time has warped the finer details but you bring the walls up, let it form a perimeter around you since there’s no difference. The sun will rise tomorrow and you’ll wake up alone.
“Taehyung, I’m sorry.”
He sighs and takes the glass from your hand. He drinks the last remaining wine and eyes you with a kind of scorn. “If you’re sorry, you’d tell me why.”
He stares at you and this time, it feels like you’re being dragged down. This overwhelming tide that pins you in place. As if you’re underwater and you can’t see anything directly ahead. The uncertainty makes it feel like you’re drowning. You start to cry then and he’s startled. You wipe your eyes roughly and close your fists over them, turning away.
Then, he embraces you from the back. He smells masculine, entirely different from then. But his warmth is the same, his presence is solid and felt. His remorse is palpable that you cry harder. He’s apologising, surrendering so easily that your guilt rears its head. You keep quiet and let the tears fall.
Outside, Busan sparkles, indifferent to what is happening in your room. It’s forecasted to rain tomorrow. You had a long drive back and your dog, which still has no name, will likely bark at you before recognising you again. In the back of your mind, you think of all the possibilities of your life. From the seeds of your decisions which flower and eventually grow into a strong tree with its branches. And you think about how lightning can strike centuries of quiet growth down in the blink of an eye.
Taehyung kisses the top of your head murmuring an apology.
You clutch at his arm which is around your middle.
Perhaps it would have been different if you had acted differently. Decided in a way that kept him in your life.
But you can’t envision your lives where you’d be together and happy.
You wonder why.
“I just missed you,” he says, his voice small and reverent.
You sniff and make yourself say it because he’s the one who needs to hear it the most.
Circles. (m) | ONE-SHOT | PARK JIMIN, JEON JUNGKOOK, 6.3k
Pairing(s): Reader x Jimin, Reader x Jungkook, Jungkook x Reader x Jimin
Summary: Newly discharged from the mandatory military service, Jimin and Jungkook find their way back home to you.
Warnings/Tags: RATED M (18+) for language, smut (fem-reader; fingering, anal sex; multiple orgasms, squirting, hand job, oral (f-receiving); pussy slapping; penetrative sex; threesome; wet and messy sex, mhm); fluff (6k words about missing each other sounds about right); slight hurt/comfort; conversation about enlistment, body image; idol!AU - established relationship (Hotel and Late throuple are back!)
======
Hello!
Hope you're enjoying summer wherever you are and bask in the fact that BTS are back! Out of the WIPS I shared, this was the one furthest along and easiest for me to finish, so I hope you enjoy it c:
======
-
They arrived just before 11am, murmuring apologies about being held up at the company building due to preliminary meetings about how the next week is going to pan out. You figured that they still feel alien despite having more than 10 years of working in the industry under their belt. It wasn’t lunch - which was their proposed time - but they were all over you in an instant, kissing everywhere until you fell onto each other in a heap by the foyer.
It’s a silly reunion, one that you’d anticipated but nevertheless felt unprepared for.
It’s evening now and Jimin’s home is cool and quiet. The curtains are drawn together, barely any light filtering through. You and Jungkook lie in bed together, listening to Jimin’s melodic humming from afar.
“How does it feel?” You ask.
His hands find your skin underneath your shirt. They’re restless, hungry.
“Hm,” he murmurs, his lips skating along your spine. You shiver at the sudden exposed skin. He bites the skin on your thigh. “Surreal.”
You roll your eyes, but your face heats from the attention.
Jimin emerges from the softly lit alcove, his hair still wet. He stares at you both, his plump cheeks are red from the shower.
“I’ve got to dry my hair,” he mutters, although you feel his eyes on you both.
“There’s not much hair to dry anyway, hyung.”
You laugh as Jungkook kisses you, these breathless giggles escaping your lips as he peppers ravenous pecks along your neck. You’re giddy because you don’t have to wait for them to come home. No more transitory messages or time fraught with the notion that they’ll be heading back to a harsher reality.
They’re finally home.
You notice Jimin stealing a quick glance at himself in the mirror. The swift act makes you worry. You remember how he didn’t eat much of what Jungkook cooked for lunch. You understand that it’s part of the job, that their body is part of the whole, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept.
“You look good Min,” you comment, making room as Jungkook gets comfortable behind you.
Jimin smiles, “ah, I mean, I was nearly ten kilos heavier months before. Remember?”
It’s hard to hear him being so critical. Jungkook is the same, just less frequently. They rest on a tight balance where the margins for what qualifies a ‘good’ are narrow. It’s been long enough for them to differentiate how long they should spend time on something that is futile but a year and a half away from the camera’s can make anyone nervous.
What if I went back to one meal a day, like Hobi-hyung, was what Jungkook said in passing. You didn’t know what to say then, afraid to convey the wrong thing.
Jungkook decided to drop it, used to assessing himself like clockwork. You finished what’s on your plate and cleared the table. Nothing more.
“Yes but you’re doing well to get back to where you’re comfortable.”
Jimin kisses your cheek, “I think you want us like this.”
Your face warms from his remark. “I want you both to be happy.”
Jungkook’s laugh spreads on the nape of your neck, “hyung’s muscles must be what’s making you say these things.”
“Of course not!” You stutter, craning your neck back to shoot Jungkook a look. Jimin reaches over to pinch him lightly.
“Hey, I had an eight-pack before you,” Jimin teases. “You’re always copying me anyway.”
“Yeah, next thing you’re gonna say is that you were born in Busan first, how can I compete with that?”
You scrunch your nose at their easy dynamic. It never gets too serious which is also how they take care of you. They always said that they’d be fine since they enlisted together while you were the one holding the fort at home. Strange to think about those conversations now that it’s over.
“I didn’t realise how exhausted I am,” Jungkook says in between a yawn. “All I did was do one live and cook for three.”
“I totally blanked out in front of the reporters,” Jimin adds. He nuzzles his face against your neck as if breathing you in.
“You both did well, everything made sense,” you reply. “Especially in front of those cameras.”
Then, sheepishly, Jungkook presses his face between your shoulder blades. “Did I look okay?”
You wind your arm to brush the shorter parts of his hair behind his ear, “more than.”
Jimin’s expression lightens, “aw, Jeonggukkie.”
“Stop it,” Jungkook says, defeated. You let yourself laugh because somehow, despite being stuck in a more muscular body that’s inked and intimidating, Jungkook is still the same. Jimin leans his head towards you and traces the curve of your ear with the curl of his knuckle.
“I can’t believe that we don’t have to go back.”
“Good. My dermatologist is so sick of me giving excuses about being under the sun,” Jungkook sighs.
And in between another yawn, you sneak a laugh in time with Jimin’s bright giggles.
-
The kitchen is sparse in shades of black and white.
Jungkook is behind the stove again preparing perilla oil makguksu. He’s made the dish so many times he eyeballs all the measurements. Jimin is still asleep, nestled in the dark with his phone in his hand. You see the fine scars on Jungkook’s forearm, noting how they’re positioned where the rim of a giant cauldron would be.
“I didn’t hurt,” he comments, noting your gaze. “What hurt more is when Jimin hyung volunteered once and never came back.”
You snort, “I bet he’ll say something different.”
“I keep thinking there will be a bug or two flying over my head.”
You smile, “nothing now.”
The corner of his lip tugs up, the two rings are back and they glint under the overhead lights. He’s shy all of the sudden and you knew that he’s having some thoughts on adjusting back again. Back to his job, his life. But you sense that he needs some time to parse through it and you’ll be here when he’s ready to talk about it.
You watch as he squeezes the bottle of Buldak onto a wooden spoon. You caution him about your slight intolerance and he looks at you fondly.
“We won’t use all of it.”
You huff, “I hate crying onto my food.”
“Hey, I don’t make it too spicy!”
“Yes you do,” you protest, “there was one time when I couldn’t feel my tongue.”
He bites his lip out of remorse, “ah yeah, I remember. I’m sorry.”
He leans forward to kiss you and you forgive him easily. He backs you up on the counter until it digs onto your lower back, but then he hoists you up as if you weigh like nothing. You gasp into his mouth as his hands, now free of any utensil, roam along your skin. He feels so good against you, solid and insistent, like he can’t get enough. It’s not even midday yet and you had had three orgasms even before you reached the kitchen. It might have been an exaggeration to say that you were making up for lost time but in a way, you were. Things were heightened simply because they didn’t have to return to base.
That much was enough to celebrate.
“Jungkook,” you moan, grasping around his shoulders.
Since when did he get so broad?
“Hn?”
“What about lunch?”
He grins, licking into your mouth. “What about it?”
“Aren’t you hungry,” you say, tucking your face into your shoulder as he kisses down your neck.
“Mhm,” he murmurs, nipping your exposed skin only to soothe it with tender licks. Your toes curl at the sensation. His hands cup your ass, fingers kneading as he pleases. You become conscious of how your moans seem to echo in the space. He kisses you again, insistent and just as desperate.
“Bedroom?” He whispers, aware of how you’re grinding against his cock.
“Bedroom.”
-
As soon as you enter, Jimin emerges from the adjoining bathroom, his short hair askew and his face is flushed from being washed. When you try and wrap your arms around Jungkook's shoulders he circles your waist and makes you turn.
“What -”
“Back against me,” he says.
The authority in his voice causes you to comply with instinct. Your heart pounds as you settle on the bed doing as he says. Jimin doesn’t move yet, watching carefully. Against Jungkook’s chest like this, he splays your legs open, then, hooking his thumbs into your underwear he removes it with practiced ease. He bares you to Jimin and you shiver at the sudden display.
Jimin kneels wordlessly in front of you as Jungkook hands smooth down the backs of your thighs, keeping you in place.
It’s not an unfamiliar arrangement: the way you’re mostly bare while they’re mostly clothed. The way your heart is beating so loudly you can hear it, nor the way Jimin just stares at your exposed pussy, so wet as it slicks on your skin.
It’s how they’re so familiar with you and your wants that they always know what to do.
“Good?” Jungkook says right by your ear. His voice is quiet and tender, still checking if you’re okay and you’re comfortable.
“Y-yeah.”
Jimin looks up, “keep your legs open.”
You nod, transfixed.
As ridiculous as it might seem, it gives you time to admire Jimin. His smooth skin, the way his muscles are filled out. His cheeks remain a warm pink, his lips are plump and shiny. You see the rise and fall of his chest, the way it mirrors yours. He leans and places a soft kiss on your clit before licking down, dipping his tongue in your core. You whimper, your body twitching beneath. You tilt your hips, silently seeking more.
“You’re so pretty here,” Jimin murmurs, his breath fanning over your soaked cunt. “So wet.”
When he brushes his thumb along your folds and parts them in a way that makes you shy. You want to look away, to look anywhere but when you stare down you can see what Jimin sees. Your clit juts out, needy and flushed, your parted center glistening with arousal. The small quirk of a smile on Jimin’s lips shows how he’s enjoying this the most.
“Jealous, Jeongguk-ah?”
Jungkook huffs, “from where I’m at isn’t bad.”
It would have been arrogant if not for the strain in Jungkook’s voice. He’s hard and you feel him at your lower back, but he’s still and keeps you wide and open.
“Kissing Jungkook got you this wet? Seems that we should be blamed for not taking care of you enough.”
Your face is so warm from the light accusation. You want to make an excuse, you want things to move on because it has been a long time since you’ve been like this for them. The breaks they had in between warranted visits but they were too exhausted knowing that they had to return to base. It was alright to rest with them, to give them the space to relax and maintain their hobbies. Sometimes, you just lay down with them, sandwiched between.
But now, it’s overwhelming.
It’s as if they have so much energy and they have been more… forward. Now, they always couldn’t keep their hands off of you, walking around their massive apartments as if there wasn’t enough space. They somehow always managed to graze their touch lightly or give you a quick peck on the cheek. Something to signal their presence. You’re cocooned behind closed doors, you even smell like each other these days.
“No, I don’t think that,” you mumble, squirming.
Jungkook breathes out like it’s a chuckle. It flutters your hair, it sticks on your skin, this closeness.
Jimin lowers his mouth and you melt. You remember that this is what pleasure is: something to melt into, something to slip inside without caution. It teases and tracks you down, makes you all inseparable from each other, even with the distance and the time apart. The realisation sparks down your spine, making you aware of Jungkook’s arousal just as Jimin laps at your clit.
You’re wet and your toes curl, your breaths are shallow, they puff out and turn into moans when Jimin makes these tugging sucks on your clit, an even pressure, yielding and devoted. Jungkook’s fingers inch lower and you feel him press them against your flesh, parting you even more. You lean your head back, surrendering. Jimin circles your clit with his thumb and you tense, your lips letting out a quiet moan.
Jungkook hums low and then brings his hand down on your pussy. You gasp, legs stiffening and momentarily drawing together.
He carries on as Jimin leans back, his eyes glassy as you try and catch your breath. The stings fade into a slow, roiling pleasure. Then, as Jungkook continues to slap your pussy, it becomes this bright, shocking sensation that opens you up and makes you more sensitive. You get wetter, it makes a splattering sound that makes you want to hide your face. It’s messy and drips down, you bite your lip.
When Jungkook cups your pussy, letting the heat get trapped, it’s the fifth hit and you moan, twisting your body over his lap.
“P-please,” you beg, the heat blazing on your body and Jimin leans down, his eyes dark and focused. He doesn’t make you wait. He licks firmly, going with these broad strokes over your swollen folds. He drags his tongue as if it’s a balm to soothe your skin and it makes you dizzy, you tilt your hips, rubbing yourself against him, meeting him halfway.
And when his lips close over your clit, the tip of his tongue stroking and stroking, a soft cry falls from your lips. Jungkook kisses your temple, his hold is firm.
“Be good,” he rasps, and you see Jimin’s red lips, glistening because of you.
Jimin sucks your clit and it’s fast and messy and you’re so close. Jungkook’s fingers dig into the muscle of your thighs. Your head drops back onto Jungkook’s shoulder. It just doesn’t build quickly, you can feel this wave rising and it squeezes your gut and your breath hitches, turning into whines. Your body just feels and wants to ride the movement of Jimin’s tongue.
You pant and plea, Jungkook is kissing your cheek tenderly. He whispers in your ear, “come.”
And your orgasm hits you in seconds, you shudder, your stomach quivers as you gasp out these panting breaths. Your fingers scrabble against Jimin’s shoulders as he laps you up, not caring about the sting of your nails. He lets you ride it out on his tongue and the sensation floods you with this warmth, this sweet release and you moan as you twist in Jungkook’s arms. He doesn’t stop, not until you beg, you know that much. Your muscles keep fluttering, your pussy squeezing and you get wetter and you’re gushing.
“J-jimin, please, ahn, wait -”
He gives you one last lick, a teasing stripe before pulling back.
His chin is soaked and you almost want to apologise.
He surges forward and you taste yourself on him and Jungkook groans at the proximity.
Coming down to your senses, you start to shift. When they realise what you were trying to do, they laugh.
“Don’t worry about us,” Jimin says, kissing you lightly.
You can’t help but eye the tenting in their sweats. Jimin follows your gaze, he ignores your defiance and disappears into the bathroom.
“You did so well for us,” Jungkook soothes, rubbing the skin on your outer thigh. And when they try to get you to settle and clean you up, you pout.
“I can’t be the only one receiving,” you protest, defiant as Jungkook fetches a damp towel from Jimin and presses it over your throbbing core.
“We have time,” he mutters, gliding his hand under your top to cup your breast.
Later, you’d be prioritised again, this time grinding your bare pussy on Jungkook’s thigh while Jimin pinches your nipples. You come like that, riding out the sparking heat of orgasm, always between them, always cared for.
-
In the middle of the night, half the lights in Jimin’s apartment are turned down low. Your rhythms are slowly adjusting to each other. It means that your day is often most people’s night. You all preferred it that way, it makes the hours longer and gives you more time to savour each other.
It dawns on you, despite the days spent together that both were heftier as their muscles gained some bulk, unlike the slimmer physique’s their careers demanded of them. It’s still a pleasant surprise when they’re bare even though you've been seeing them when they take leave. You weren’t the only one sharing their schedule but now, with their reunion looming, you’re just as happy to have these precious days before the mayhem begins.
Jungkook’s hands frame your waist, the ink on his arm is vibrant and a new design continues onto his right pec. You all spoke about it one night, slightly tipsy keen for the night not to end. Maybe this is what it means to miss being around each other.
You traced the flecks of colour, like wild tendrils curling on his skin. You and Jimin admired him ceaselessly, commenting on how it’s so him. Jimin contemplated an additional piece but decided on something more delicate, the placement is something to be talked about. Another thing to look forward to.
Jungkook draws his fingers out of your puckered hole and you hiss at the absence. He gives your ass a pat, “okay?”
Your hands rest on his chest, your nails digging slightly. He asks to check in though his brows pinch at the fact that you’re clenching around him. Jimin is snug behind you, his fingers probing your hole now. He managed two and widened them before slipping them out.
“I can take it.”
Behind, Jimin’s amused chuckle breaks the tension. “It’s okay, we can try again another time.”
“N-no,” you say, craning your head back. “I want to try.”
This is one of those things that you’ve been warming up to. Still, it needed preparation and a slow descent. You hold Jungkook’s forearm, jutting your hips out to make it easier for Jimin. He’s on his back and his face is so red that you can’t help but find him cute. You feel Jimin’s cock rest on your lower back, heavy and wanting.
He kisses your spine and you feel drops of lube on your skin. It’s strange to feel this cool, jelly-like gloss. You sneak a look and you see Jimin fist his cock, coating it thoroughly. You were stubborn at first, saying that you’d be wet enough for both but they cautioned you. You never really needed lube much because you often got so aroused, it would be wet and messy in no time.
It’s not about that, we don’t want you to get hurt, we want you to enjoy it too, Jimin warned.
You should have reminded them to lay out a towel because it’s dripping now, and Jimin’s hands are slippery. You hum at the touch, this sticky-wet sensation mixing with your own slick arousal. Jimin spread your cheek, his hand on your ass is firm yet exploratory. He nestles his cock between your cheeks, dragging his hips to and fro, getting himself wet.
“Jimin,” you whine, all pent up.
“I want to make sure you’re relaxed,” he parries.
You palm Jungkook instead and he throws his head back. You’re plenty relaxed but they haven’t come once and the strain in his neck might be a tell of his frustration. Jimin pushes the head of his cock in and your hold on Jungkook stutters to a halt. The muscle gives and accepts Jimin and you hold your breath. Jimin repeats this, going deeper each time and the lube drips down the inside of your thighs.
Jungkook sighs as you gain some confidence, twisting your wrist, letting him fuck your hand.
“W-wait,” he protests and you stop. His brows are furrowed and his breathing is shallow.
“You want me to stop?”
“I-I’ll come too soon,” he says through gritted teeth. “And I want to come inside you.”
The confession heats up your body. You think up a retort but instead give a short cry as Jimin pushes his cock in halfway. The stretch burns for a second before your body accommodates him. Your body drops down in submission, forehead on Jungkook's shoulder. He swipes his hand up and cups the nape of your neck.
“Okay?”
“Y-yeah,” you breathe, shoulder blades tense. “Min?”
Jimin, on the other hand, is tense. He’s stiffened up behind you and isn’t moving at all. You glance back and his eyes are glassy, focused on where you’re both connected.
“Fuck, I can’t believe it,” he says. You encourage him by swaying your hips.
“Min, please.”
He snaps out of it and pulls out only to shove his cock back in. This time to the hilt. You tremble from the force until he builds up the pace, slamming back in and switching up to mid-length strokes. Then short, shallow fucks, almost humping you.
You gasp at the change in rhythm, you moan against Jungkook’s mouth as he kisses you desperately. Somewhere in that, you know he wants in on it too.
Sometimes, you’re clenching too tightly to let Jimin in fully but his moans don't signal any discomfort or protest. He’s not fucking you hard enough to see stars but he is going at a pace that makes you lift your feet off the bed, position unsteady and relying on Jungkook to balance you. You slide your knees closer, as much as it can be allowed. You feel Jimin’s arm strap you in the middle and drag you up and away from Jungkook. You gasp at the new angle, this pleasure morphing into something intense. Jimin goes harder this time, slapping up his hips and you hear his guttural groans, feel him getting wilder. It doesn’t hurt now. The burn is glazed over by the pleasure. You watch Jungkook watching you.
It’s surreal.
Jimin hugs you to his chest and slides his hand down. His fingers find your clit and you feel yourself gushing. You realise you’re wet because Jimin is fucking your ass.
“Fuck, the both of you look so hot,” Jungkook groans. He’s fucking his hand, his thick cock slicking up the web of his fingers. Your muscles tense, twisting in Jimin’s hold as he strums your clit.
“G-gonna,” you gasp, nails digging into Jimin’s forearm. He grabs your breast and pinches your nipple and you unravel suddenly, body tensing up and clenching around Jimin in this unforgiving grip. It’s a rhythmic spasm that gets you both, Jimin’s teeth baring themselves on the jut of your neck and shoulder and he growls into his release. Jungkook moans as he raises himself up, rests the head of his cock in the wet gape of your cunt, his hand squeezing his shaft. The squelching wet noises coupled with the constant friction against your pussy makes you moan loudly as his hand pumps up and down. You rub at your clit as he comes and your breath topples out of you as you’re propped up between them, delirious and shaking from the overwhelming sensations.
Jungkook rasps a strangle groan when he comes, adding to the mess of lube and slick. Your legs almost give out if not for Jimin’s strong hold against your body. As Jungkook settles back onto the bed, Jimin lets go and you follow him down. You all lie down, listening to the thud of your hearts. You kiss Jimin wetly, hands grasping his arm as he nudges his nose against yours.
“Did I hurt you?”
You shake your head. “Felt good.”
Sensing Jungkook’s sulk, you part your legs just as his fingers find your dripping pussy. He slides two inside and groans at the hot heat which spasms around him. Your body radiates heat and a fine sheen of sweat makes your skin shine. You cup Jungkook’s cheek and shower him with kisses, equal in your affection.
You wonder how long it’ll be like this, stuck in a pleasure-loop. Endless and enchanting.
Jungkook rubs his nose against yours. “Okay?”
“Yeah.”
-
Jimin gently pushes your knees out, your thighs spread and the cool air brushes your pussy. Jungkook’s hands support the back of your knees. It’s midnight somewhere but it’s in the early hours of the morning in Seoul. You haven’t left the bed apart from to drink water or have some food.
Jungkook sighs at the way you spasm around him. Three orgasms in, you’re floating.
This approach might have been a better solution rather than being on all fours. Besides, Jimin’s eyes shine with something playful.
“You ready for me, hm?”
You muster some sort of defense, but all that comes out is “yeah, please.”
Jimin’s eyes narrow as he smiles, obviously amused by you. He takes his fingers out and thumbs your perineum. You shiver.
“So good, taking Jeonggukie and me.”
“Y-you’re not inside yet,” you pout, legs instinctively closing when he hovers his cock on your slit. He tuts and angles the head to gather your slick, coating his shaft in a lewd display of taking his time. He taps your clit to finish and you kick your leg up. Jungkook soothes you by rubbing the backs of your thighs.
You roll your hips up, writhing in their hold.
“Fuck me,” you gasp, getting carried away. Jimin gropes at your waits, leaning down and close. He hesitates.
“I won’t move,” Jungkook adds, “we have to be careful and avoid tearing.”
That takes you out of the headspace for a minute.
“Tearing?”
“Small chance,” Jimin says.
You drop your head against Jungkook’s chest, “I won’t.”
Jimin kisses your forehead, distracting you momentarily as he glides in. The sound you make sounds like you’re choking and it cuts through the air in the room.
Immediately you hear -
“Are you okay?” From Jungkook and then a “shall I pull out?” From Jimin.
You clamp around them both and it seems that what threat was on the horizon comes and swoopes down. You clutch at Jimin’s wrist and Jungkook’s thighs tense from the effort of not moving at all. He places a shaking hand on Jungkook’s hip for the minute, grinding his cock inside you.
“Fuck,” you sob. You underestimated just being between them like this has worked you up so when Jimin finally finds a rhythm and makes enough space for Jungkook to move, you come and a hard stream of squirt pushes Jimin out.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m -”
Jimin crashes his lips against yours, tongue sliding and lapping you up. Jungkook sounds like he’s going through it and it almost makes you laugh if not for the shock of the fact that they made you squirt just by being inside at the same time. Your back arches and it presses Jungkook deeper inside you, seated in a way that melts your insides and you throw your hands behind your head, trying in vain to kiss him too.
Distracted for the moment, you don’t realise that Jimin’s fingers enter you and you shudder at the sudden pressure. It’s like being stuffed again which means that you’re not allowed to come down from your last orgasm. Jimin’s fingers curl like he’s teasing something out of you, this upward pressure inside you and you let out a breathy grunt, unh, ah, ahn -
“Jimin, wait, it feels like I have to -”
His arm muscles are tense as he ramps it up. The look he gives you is so piercing that you’re struck with it. Jungkook groans behind you as he thrusts his hips upwards.
“You’re so wet,” Jimin groans, “can you hear it?”
You huff out a panting breath, eyes fluttering shut. He’s right. It’s audible and obscene. Loud enough to send a wash of heat on your abdomen. Everything is so sticky and slick and you reel from their attention.
“Let go,” Jimin breathes out, kissing your temple. He strokes fast inside and you pulse from your cunt. They aren’t even touching your clit and it’s as if you’re a live wire. You claw at Jungkook’s arm, hissing as he takes and takes. You wonder how it’s possible to be like this without it being so much. Jimin lets the feeling build, so expert in your body, in what makes you feel good.
Jungkook gasps from behind, “let go.”
Your head drops back and your body tenses, Jimin keeps stroking and you do let go, pushing out a clear stream and soaking his arm.
“Ah -” you gasp, shocked at the sight, trying to shut your legs but Jungkook is thrusting upwards while Jimin doesn’t stop fucking into your open pussy making you squirt again, a small splash that becomes a crude spray as Jungkook’s hips stutter to a halt. His groan vibrates against your skin as he comes inside you, hips shoving up as if he’s digging deeper. It’s so warm and wet that it startles you that you’re plugged up like this. And Jimin, just as affected, slips his fingers out of you only to rub your clit and you moan loudly, turning your head to the side. Jungkook nudges his nose in your hair, his breath fanning over your cheek. Exhausted and sated.
“C-can’t,” you gasp, as Jimin coaxes more warm splashes, until you hear your own hoarse voice. “Please.”
Jimin stops and the flat of his fingers rests on your soaked cunt. You blink, feeling some tears gather in your eyes. Overwhelmed is an understatement. You meet Jimin’s gaze and look down at his strained cock, you reach for him and he leans into your touch. It doesn't take much to make him come and when he does, he shudders under your touch, kissing you to muffle his groans.
You smile into the kiss and moan in time as Jungkook slips out of you.
When things settle, you feel so hot all over and messy below the waist. It’s as if you can still feel them inside, you turn your head against the pillow and moan softly, tilting your hips and feeling their come trickling down.
They’re out of breath when they ask if you want more and you seriously consider it.
Your pussy throbs and you’re still mindless but with an urge to come again but instead, you turn over and lift your hips up every so slightly. You don’t see what’s happening behind but their panicked noises behind you causes you to peer over your shoulder.
“What does it look like?” You ask, genuine in your curiosity. Something thick and wet leaks from you, down the swollen folds of your pussy, onto the sheets. You wait until you meet their eyes and blink as if coming across as innocent.
Jungkook shakes his head and Jimin laughs. They dive down with roaming fingers, like they can’t get enough.
-
“Do you think he’s really dead?”
You shrug, “I mean, he did disintegrate and gave his soul to Rumi, I think that’s pretty final.”
Jimin chuckles, the short strands of his hair tickling your chin. “C’mon, there must be a sequel in the works.”
Jungkook is moving animatedly, phone in hand. A tribute to ‘Soda Pop’ in his own world. You can’t help but grin; he’s shirtless in loose sweats and helplessly handsome. The muscles on his back shift, they become more pronounced in the low light, tempting you further especially with the new ink taking over his scapula area.
“It’s not like that,” Jimin instructs, getting up (but not before kissing your temple) and standing in front of Jungkook. Jimin squints at Jungkook’s phone, some tiktok they found. The song loops and the small figures are caught in an endless cycle of catchy pop. They start off where the chorus is and Jimin gets to the right of Jungkook.
“Like this,” Jimin says, lifting his right shoulder and then his left. You just know Jungkook’s pouting even though you’re only seeing the back of his head.
“I know that part,” Jungkook complains, but follows Jimin nonetheless. You watch them work out the positioning then fine tune the movements.
After a while, you decide to get up and join them.
“How about this?” You volunteer, getting over your embarrassment of having two-left feet. Jimin makes space for you, giggling already.
“What? I’m trying!”
Jungkook joins in the laughter, although it’s not with any malice. “Okay, here, it’s like you’re pumping the air, okay, good.”
You manage the transition smoothly, albeit slower. Jimin pitches in and helps you with the hand movements.
“So many hand movements,” you say, twisting your wrist and opening your palm.
Jungkook nods, “okay! You want to be at the center?”
You raise your eyebrows, “you’re giving me Jinu?”
Jimin is already laughing, “c’mon, Jeongguk-ah, we know you want to.”
Jungkook’s ears turn three shades red, “I mean, I don’t mind…”
You realise that you craved moments like these with them. That it’s been a really long time since you last saw them relax and participate in something that had little to no stakes. The movie was released a couple of days after their enlistment period ended and the poster caught your eye. It captured a lot of the things that made them laugh and point to scenes that they related to.
Once their mini-practice session finished, you propped your phone up on the console and filmed a bit. Harmless but sweet and only for your eyes.
In the end, they kissed your cheek and gave you the center position.
Your heart was so full, it could burst.
Evening descends on the city once more and the panoramic views sweep along the length of the apartment with the curtain not being in the way. It’s so ordinary that the memory burns. Hanging out and watching films, eating less but frequently. Waking up whenever and wearing whatever. It’s easy like this.
Jimin turns up the volume while Jungkook appears with a bluetooth mic. He squints at the buttons complaining about his eyesight. When he looks up, he looks at you.
“What song?”
You grin and join them.
-
The HYBE building glimmers under the summer sun. You look up while shielding your eyes from the glare.
There were cranes framing either side. Noisy construction mingled with the everyday traffic. This repetitive machinised noise, almost drilling into your head. It grew louder and louder until -
“Aish, Jeonggukk-ah,” Jimin groans, scrubbing his face. You blink up at the source of noise, while, up until you woke up, were nearby drills at the foot of their company building.
Jungkook’s mouth is half open as he snores loudly.
You bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing and reach to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. He stirs but doesn’t wake. Jimin flicks Jungkook’s forehead, clicking his tongue. Jungkook doesn’t open his eyes, content in his slumber.
“I wasn’t kidding when I told you that I dreamt of construction sites for two weeks straight because of his snoring.”
“You guys must’ve had a hard time there.”
Jimin doesn’t say anything but his quiet is a tell.
Jungkook nuzzles against your palm as you card your fingers through his hair. He’s warm and calm. It took a couple of days for either of them to bridge the gap between the dissonance they experienced. Of being back and resuming their lives. It’s a different kind of pause. The kind that’s played out in harsh weather and sparse accommodation rather than the walls of their home.
“We had something to look forward to though,” Jimin finally says.
He leans and kisses you, his body is warm from sleep and you feel his muscles shift under your touch. He’s so cute these days, his face is plumper and he really looks well rested. Jungkook has always been soft around the edges but he carries himself with an assuredness that you’ve never experienced before.
“You know, each time I was stationed with the artillery, when we had to sleep in those cabins, I’d read over the letters you sent.”
You feel your ears burn. Over the year and a half you managed to send letters to both of them. Some were pages long detailing your day, others were brief and reflected how your days were often in the same cyclic rhythm. When they unpacked earlier, they brought out their stacks tied neatly with an orange, glitter ribbon.
“I’d read those and eat the food that Jungkook prepared and I’d be content. And then before I knew it, it was the next day. I lived like that for a while.”
Hearing that made your heart ache. Jimin was no stranger to hard work but being away and enlisting was something he really wanted to turn away from. It wasn’t that he felt exempted but he felt like he had to give up his control. You brush the shorter strands of his hair with your fingers.
“And I don’t know why one week felt like a month but it did,” Jimin murmurs. You felt a pang of sadness at the strange nature of time. How time warps and stretches or feels like nothing at all. But, as it often does, these realisations revealing themselves in retrospect, being reunited doesn’t feel real either. As if you need even more time to savour it. Instead you say what’s been on your mind ever since they came back, not in uniform but in the clothes you’re familiar with, albiet with shorter hair and plumper cheeks.
OH MY GOD !? i never thought I would ever hear from you again 😭 your work ‘kindred’ healed and broke me at the same time! I’m glad to see you back 🫶
- 🩹
hello!! 😭
I thought I'd take a step back for good but turns out I'm in this bangtan sh*t for life?? HAHA
Taking a break felt good and I think it helped me in terms of my creativity 🥹
And Kindred!! My angst-ridden child 😭 thank you for sharing your experience with it, it seems to give rise to contradictory emotions from those who read it which, funnily enough, is also what I experienced when writing it 🥹
(So glad to hear from you and thanks for stopping by! >.<)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
omg you came back!! how are you doing? i hope life has been treating you kind. we all missed you 🥺🥺
Hello!! c:
I was away for a while because there were a lot of changes in my life (career switch that required me to go back to school again) and when I decided to come back, I had found a good rhythm to dip into the things I loved doing :3
Since then, life has been treating me kindly but recently I've experienced a loss that I'm still working my way out of (and even then, I'm not sure if I'll ever get over it tbh)... so really, it's been up and down and I take it one day at a time.. I used to be quite change-averse but I think the universe knows what's good for me in the end..
Thank you so much for stopping by, I really missed this space and hearing back from readers really warms my heart <3
I hope you're doing well and mostly, I hope that life gives you only the best <3
i just recently found out that you were active but since that was 2 months ago you probably won’t see this but i just wanna let you know that kindred broke me in so many pieces. i read it 3 years ago and ever since then i never had the courage to read it again because i’m a coward and is very scared of the hurt i would feel because it REALLY REALLY broke me the first time i read it, I never expected the ending. i wish you had it on ao3 so we won’t lose it :’) but anyway, i really really love kindred, you did your big one. 🩶
hello!! (woah, three years flew by just like that T>T)
I think Kindred needed to be that way.. I remember burning the midnight oil and posting it at an odd time hoping someone somewhere sees and understands... so thank you for stopping by and reminiscing about it..
and you're not a coward!! I've also read stories that I can't go back to for similar reasons.. so thank you again for loving it :') it's one of my gems, so I'm glad that you see it as just as precious as I do <3
rereading utopia as an architecture student is wild bc i can picture him pulling all nighters for a bunch of playes (totally not me projecting my experience definitely not 👍)
T>T you're absolutely right, the version of Yoongi I wrote in Utopia was perennially sleep-deprived... this was partially inspired by an architect in my life who felt the same when they were in the throes of deadlines > < (which seemed to be all the time?!)
so if it resonates I know where your coming from! 😭
Posting this excerpt because I was once excited about it and wrote on the doc constantly. Now, rediscovering it in my drafts spurred that interest and excitement again.
No further description or blurb because the entire draft can change at a moment's notice! Although, I'm happy to talk about it if anyone is interested!
(Also posting this for some motivation hahaha)
I hope that wherever you are, you are weathering the start of the year well <3 I'm glad to be back here, even if sporadically.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
