#kscproject

“Yup,” you mumble blankly, and shake off his grip, making your way across the slightly uneven dirt and trampled grass to reach the stall. You feel drawn, strangely, to the narrow dark triangle of shadow between the folds of the curtain. It’s only once you get nearer that you make out the patterns of the delicate stitching: swirls of gold thread weave around figures, horizontal or curled up, all in dull shades of brown and beige. Entranced, you reach out your fingers to follow the swirls of gold. The tapestry, instead of ending in edges over the entrance, is folded so that the pictures trail around the edge. Without thinking to politely announce your presence, you simply slip inside, feeling the late summer humidity lead to a shady coolness.

It’s dark inside, and silent. Nothing illuminates the small room except for a single candle on a table, a black tall taper, drops of wax running cleanly down the sides to stain the golden tablecloth. It’s luckily enough to just make out the reflective glint of the gold thread, and you follow the tapestry slowly as it runs all the way along the walls inside. Part of you feels this is futile, and you shouldn’t be poking around in an empty stall when the owner was out, but still you walk deeper into the booth, the texture of embroidery teasing the tips of your fingers. 

At one point, closer to the back of the room, your shadow begins to block the candlelight, and you squint, barely making out the trail of golden swirls. An odd protrusion in the wall causes you to step back, losing the trail for a moment but picking it up, a bright gold patch, perfectly circular and shining like-

“What are you doing in my tent?”

You gasp and jump back, bumping your lower back on a wooden chair tucked into the table. A hand shoots out, latches tightly onto your wrist. You freeze, following the arm up a sleeve, and to a chest, black silk with a pendant dangling just below his collarbones, a single gold coin. Your eyes jump up, apology on your tongue, but you can’t force your mouth to move when you’re greeted with two gleaming eyes, trained solely on you. 

No, not gleaming. Glowing. 

You swallow hard as he blinks slowly, eyebrows narrowed and partially blocking what looks like swirling irises of molten gold, a depth that draws you in. “I- sorry,” you croak finally, feeling his grip around your wrist loosen, the delicate bones aching. “It did say ‘enter’.”

You can’t be sure in the dim lighting, but a slight flash of white makes you think he’s smirking at you. “My sign says ‘Enter Sandman’. Are you a sandman?”

You blink slowly. “No.” 

“Hm, I didn’t think so. I am the sandman. And you are the trespasser.”

Your mind feels hazy, two beats too slow. “Do you want me to… leave, then?”

His hand lets go of yours completely. It leaves you feeling oddly unmoored. “You could leave,” he offers lightly, “but then you’d never get my help.”

You want to turn around, some illogical urge to make sure the exit is still free, that the fair is still in full swing outside. It feels so quiet in here. But you don’t want to turn your back on him. The hairs on the back of your neck are at full attention and your instincts are going haywire like a faulty compass, unsure what to feel. You swallow past the dryness in your throat. “Your help?”

The gilded glow of his eyes - some modern fashion contacts, no doubt - gently illuminate the dark eyelashes that frame them. They narrow at the corners, like he’s grinning at you. “My help,” he echoes. “You look tired, little girl. Can’t get to sleep?”

The blood in your veins runs cold. In the cool shade of the tent, goosebumps break out along your arms. “How did you know that? Are you meant to be a psychic or something?” 

His tongue clicks in irritation. “I’m a sandman. I believe I told you that. I can promise you restful sleep every night. For a price.”

You scoff, the reality of the situation dawning on you. Cool shtick, you allow. The dude certainly had a good way of setting up atmosphere. “Let me guess, $29.99 plus tax? Or buy a whole week for a hundred? Thanks, but no thanks.”

You turn before he manages to reply. In fact, he remains still in the time it takes you to stumble around the table in the dark, making your way to the bright sliver of light streaming in through the folds of the tapestry. Your hand is on the rough fabric before you hear his honeyed voice again. 

“My price isn’t currency,” he states simply.

Your hand remains frozen in the air. Damn you and your constant curiosity. “What is it, then?” you ask, twisting around. Now that your silhouette isn’t blocking the candlelight, you can make out a vague outline. He’s tall, but you already knew that from the height of his eyes. “Your price, I mean.” 

He steps forward, just one foot dusting the exposed ground, but it’s enough to bring him closer to the light, enough for the dancing flame to shine upon his face. 

With the lighting from below, heavy shadows are cast below his brows and his hairline, but you can see the warm bronze tone to his skin, and the fine bone structure below it. He’s still smirking, just the slightest quirk to his lips, and his chin is jutted forward smugly. He’s gorgeous. 

You can’t help but swallow again as his piercing eyes stay fixed upon you, the slight pink of his tongue poking at the corner of his mouth as his grin widens. “Dream of me.” 

--

You feel like you’re floating. You’re in a bathroom, looking in on a shower. Although the glass should be fully fogged up, with the rest of the room humid with steam, you can see through perfectly, to the naked form inside. 

In real life, you would leave immediately, at the very least turn away, but in the hazy logic of your dream, you simply observe. 

His head is against the wall, forehead pressed to the tile as water pelts down his tanned back. One hand props him up; the other is between his legs, fisting at an angry red erection. It drips precum with every jerk of his wrist, disappearing amongst the slightly soapy water that circles the drain. You can’t see his face with how the sodden bronzed locks of his hair cling to it.

Although the showerhead seems to be spraying full power, his pleasure-filled groans are what fill your ears. The way they trail off shakily every time he twists his wrist just below the tip, the gruff curses under his breath. You listen and watch as he falls apart from his own ministrations, the muscles in his buttocks clenching as he begins to thrust into his hand, panting slightly. 

Like hearing from underwater, you slowly becoming aware of a murmur that the man chants, louder and faster each time, as his hand speeds up. Your mind runs slower than treacle, but you do your best to focus. 

“Y/n! Y/n, fuck, yes! God, right there, I’m not gonna last, fuck!”

You mentally recoil, though your body simply continues to watch, honed in on the way his whole body undulates, chasing the pleasure with every fibre of his being. He moans your name, panting onto the slippery tile. He’s close; you can tell by the way his hips shudder. 

With a shout, he spills himself onto the floor of the shower, spurts of it catching and running down the wall, pooling at the bottom before washing away. He jerks himself languidly until the last drop runs down over his knuckles, and then lets out a satisfied exhale, using his toes to wipe away the last of it, before straightening up again, rinsing his face in the stream. 

“Fuck, Y/n,” he says one last time with a relieved sigh, “mm, thank you.”

Finally, he stretches out an arm blindly to reach for the metal nozzle, cutting the flow of water short. He tips his head back, pressing at his scalp to wring out some of the water, and you catch your first real glimpse of his face. A face you recognise very well. As you stare at the man you had met in the tent, the details of the bathroom blur away, fading into wisps of steam. His eyes, glowing gold, are the last two pinpricks of detail before the dream dissolves into nothingness.

You wake up with a jolt, the sheets underneath you sticky with sweat. It was real. You dismiss the thought with a shake of your head the moment it occurs to you. If anything, it was probably just your mind playing on what had happened as a way of processing it. But then again, you had slept the night through for the first time in almost a year. Speaking of...

Sitting up and stretching languidly, you curse upon viewing your alarm clock. You’d slept through your first class. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” you mutter in resignation, frowning when you become aware of a prickling sensation in your eye. 

You rub at it, only to hiss when a sharp stinging sensation attacks the sensitive nerves. Blinking away the tears that spring up, you kick off your blankets, jogging barefoot to the bathroom to inspect it in the mirror. 

Leaning in close enough that your breath creates little foggy patches on the glass, you make out some substance clogging up the inner corner of your right eye. There’s some on the left too, though not as much, and you use a wet wipe to carefully brush it out. 

In confusion, you pull away the wipe and inspect the grit that’s come away. Like something you might find at a luxurious beach (though you haven’t been to one since you were a kid) a clump of golden sand sits on the moistened fabric, finer and more delicate than caster sugar. The colour reminds you of the hair of the man in your dream, of the man you met the day before. What the fuck? With a deep breath, you force yourself to clear out the rest of the sand from your eyes and clear the worry from your head.

--

“What sand tent?”

You stare at Yoongi in something mildly related to disgust as he shovels an ungodly amount of beef wrapped in a lettuce leaf into his mouth, dark dipping sauce gathering at the corners of his mouth. “A sandman tent. You know, the big neon sign? It was right beside the little homemade fudge stall.” 

He chews noisily, brows furrowed in thought. “The one old Jeanie set up? That was right at the end of the row, Y/n, there wasn’t anything past that.” You go to protest, but Yoongi makes a sound of disagreement. “Seriously, Y/n, there wasn’t. I remember because she was complaining to me about the organisers trying to hide her stall since she’s taking all their business. I went there for some of her earl grey fudge but that certainly wasn’t the tea I ended up getting.”

You roll your eyes at his joke, but your heart isn’t in it. “I went in the tent, though. There was a dude there and everything. He said he’d give me a good night’s sleep if I dreamed of him, and I said sure, and for the first time in fucking ages I actually managed to sleep properly.” 

Yoongi’s chopsticks hover over the beef sizzling on the barbecue. “Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Dream of him,” Yoongi clarifies. 

You think back to the sight of him in the shower, streams of clear water washing away the cream he spilled on the floor, of the way his eyes pierced into you right as you woke up. Your cheeks heat at the lewd imagery. Normally your memory of dreams faded over the day - at least, when you were a kid they did. But every detail seems branded in your mind in full definition. Ducking your head, you reach out for a strip of cooked meat and avoid your friend’s gaze.

“Oh my god, you did! Was he hot?”

“Yoongi!”

“What? If he was, I wanna go track him down and get a dream. Why does all the cool shit happen to you?”

You sigh, though a reluctant smile tugs at your lips. You can never stay mad at him and he knows it. “Shut up and eat your damn lettuce wraps,” you mutter petulantly. 

Over the lunch spent with Yoongi, you find the thought of the mysterious man slip from your mind, instead feeling reenergised from your good rest and cheered up from the good food and company.

--

You dream of him again the next night. Not a bathroom this time; an airplane. At the start, it feels like reality, only slightly more...fluid. The strange quality of a dream where everything is simultaneously crystal clear and blurred. 

He’s beside you, the middle seat as you take the window. Outside, clouds melt into blue sky and in the cabin there are faceless individuals filling the seats.

“You dirty girl,” the sandman whispers, a hand on the inside of your knee. “You’re soaked for me.”

You widen your eyes and look down. The moment you see the dark patch forming in the crotch of your pants, a wave of arousal hits you as if it’s on a delay. “Yeah,” you breathe in awe. “Want you.”

His eyes sparkle behind thick lashes. “Oh, do you really?”

You bite your lip. “Please.” For a moment he looks remarkably casual, commonplace. He tilts his head at you and leans back, drawing your attention to his dress shirt and tie, and perfectly ironed pants, but when you drop his gaze to look over them, you gasp. 

His shirt is unbuttoned all the way, gaping open to reveal his unclothed chest. The tie dangles down his bare skin, guiding your eyes to his crotch, where his pants are lewdly spread open, zipper parted to reveal the waistband of his underwear. A delicate trail of golden hairs dip from below his belly button to underneath the fabric, and without thinking, your hand stretches out towards it, fingering the edge of the waistband. 

Rather than speak, you give him a questioning glance, but what greets you makes you suck in a breath. Just like the first time you met, he’s radiant; godlike. His hair is a silken warm blonde, gentle waves that frame his delicately arched brows. And his eyes. When you meet his gaze, his irises glint and shift, a brilliant gold that swirls around dilated pupils. This is the first time you’ve seen him properly in the light.

He narrows them slightly in amusement, drinking in your reaction. With a barely-there background of the airplane cabin, general shapes and blurs, the man sitting beside you is in startling clarity. Everything seems to revolve around him, a fixation you can’t shake. “Please,” you mumble again unconsciously, hand slipping below the elastic of his underwear. 

He’s hard as a rock, though his face shows no desperation, only mild amusement with the way you lick your lips. As you massage him indulgently, you can’t help but recall the sight of him in the shower. Would his cock be the same in this dream? 

“Watch out,” he warns, before breaking your gaze to face the aisle. Belatedly, you hear a squeaky wheel, a trundle cart being pushed down towards you. As the figure of an air hostess slips into view, you attempt to quickly retract your hand, though it seems your brain and body aren’t on the same track anymore. Even as you mentally strain with the want to take your hand out of his pants, it refuses to cooperate, wrapping your fingers fully around his length, running your thumb over his head. 

He chuckles lowly, head tipped back luxuriously on the head rest, devoid of any shame. The air hostess is talking to the two of you, but your cheeks burn and you can’t bear to look at her. The sandman calmly orders a hot tea, only pausing to groan in relief when your rogue hand slips him out of his pants and into the cool air of the cabin. He’s making conversation with her, discussing landing times and stopovers, and your eyes fill with embarrassed tears as you feel yourself bending down, dipping your head to take him in your mouth. 

Unlike any men you’d been with before, he tastes slightly sweet, a flavour that satisfies your tastebuds. The moment your tongue dips out to swipe up the bead of precum that’s gathered, it’s like your humiliation melts away, and even though you feel yourself regaining control of your hand, you continue to pump the base of his cock, lapping up as much of the moreish taste of him as you can. 

“Now that’s a good girl,” his honeyed voice soothes, a reassuring palm brushing your hair out of your face gently, “just give in to me.”

You moan around the head of his cock and suck him down deeper. As you lower your head more, it seems your perverted dream-logic has taken away your gag reflex, and soon you’re removing your hand, nose pressing against his hip bone. He lets out a low, purring groan, and you grip the flesh of his thigh through his pants in response. You can feel him in your throat as you begin to bob your head, but instead of feeling like you’re being suffocated, you just feel deliciously full. A wave of wet heat rushes between your legs as you picture how it would feel to be that full somewhere else. 

“Yes,” he sighs, “god, it’s been so fucking long, don’t you dare stop.” You pull off him with a pop quickly to look up, expecting the air hostess to have moved on by now, your dream sequence having gone down a different path, but she stands there, perfectly put-together and professional as she stares down at you. Behind her, you notice with a jolt that everyone in their seats have turned to look at you; countless generic faces that blend into nothing the moment you look away. 

“They’re all watching,” you comment with a raw throat, though arousal at the thought of it slides through you like a hot knife, feeling your pants cling to you, impossibly soaked. 

His smile is radiant and the gold in his eyes darkens to burnished bronze. With a hand on the back of your neck, he guides you back down. “Then give them a show.” He moans low in his throat when you take him in your mouth again, tongueing at the veins that run along the underside. His fingers slip around the other side of your neck, pushing down on your voicebox. You can feel the way his constriction traps his cock in your throat. You can’t breathe, but it is no longer necessary, your heart thrumming gently in your chest even without oxygen to pump it. 

He presses down more firmly, an iron grip around your throat that closes your throat around his length. “I wonder…” he muses. With a dark laugh that sounds almost inhuman, the man pulls slowly, lifting you off him until only the tip sits on the back of your palate, barely inside your throat. Though you don’t understand what’s going on, or how your mind has gotten so depraved to picture this, your clit throbs in your panties and you remain obediently in his grasp, waiting for his next move. “Mm, so you are going to be a good girl for me.” You feel pressure around your throat again, though this time he’s pushing you back down. With your throat cinched inside his grip, his cock pushes at the cartilage, completely blocking your airway. Your eyes water, but somehow you remain still, the only part of you moving being your head as he uses your throat as a cocksleeve, pushing you down until your lips touch the skin around the base of his cock. 

He isn’t overly vocal, but his indulgent grunts and moans seem amplified in your ears. He moves faster once you continue to take it, fucking up into you every time he plunges you down. He reaches his end quickly this way, and when he flattens his other palm over your scalp and holds you there, a warm release sliding down your throat, sweet like condensed milk, so much that it bubbles up and pools in your cheeks, spilling down your chin. 

When he finally releases you, you come up, sucking in a shuddering breath. The spectators are still there, though it looks like the scene around you is melting, falling in on itself. The lines between things become blurred, colours on their faces merging into dull greens and browns, like mixed paint. With a horrified gaze, you watch the morphing shapes begin to clap slowly, applauding your performance. 

“I guess they liked it,” he plainly remarks. You turn to face him again, but his forehead is creased, eyes clenched shut in focus. “Fuck, that was so… I can’t hold it, shit-!” 

The moment he swears, all detail begins to fall away faster than before, the vibrant gold of his hair and tanned skin blending away into a black nothingness with the rest of the plane, and you gasp, cracking your eyes open with the sound of applause still ringing in your ears, slowly sounding out into the buzzing phone on your bedside table. You fling your arm out from the warm covers, batting it around until you can turn off the alarm, and let out a groan. 

Your eyes feel dry and crusty, like you’ve been sleeping for days, and when you rub at them the same gritty sensation from the night before stings the inner corners. You pull your fingers away and squint at what’s resting on the pads of your fingertips, unsurprised when you’re greeted with those fine grains of perfectly golden sand. Tearing up at the irritation, you gingerly remove as much as you can, swallowing the dryness in your throat. A small price to pay for decent rest, you promise yourself, though a slight curl of doubt rests stubbornly in the back of your mind.

--

That night, as you drift off blissfully early in the evening, you’re ready. Upon admitting to Yoongi that they were sex dreams - your friend was beyond jealous - he had managed to convince you that you were cursed by the mysterious stranger, that he was a witch or an incubus. His plan, which you are determined to execute tonight, involves confronting the man himself - “Don’t forget to ask him if he’ll give sex dreams upon request!” - and demanding that he releases you from the curse. 

Though you were still a little sceptical that it was anything more than an overactive subconscious, you feel assured going to sleep that at least you know what to do should he return. 

And return he does. 

Not a bathroom this time, nor a plane. In fact, it’s an environment completely foreign to you, all the more hinting at the fact that this maybe isn’t just your mind conjuring strange scenarios. Like the other two times, you feel hazy and sluggish, and it takes you a while to distinguish the scene around you. 

You become slowly aware of lush carpet fibres beneath your feet, the gentle hum of an air conditioning unit, almost totally drowned out by unintelligible murmuring, a television left on. 

He is in the room with you, on a couch. Head tilted to the side, locks of thick gold rumpled and messy. Bare feet up on the coffee table and black sweatpants riding low, exposing a narrow strip of tanned flesh below his t-shirt, he looks unbelievably… domestic. 

You swallow hard, steeling your nerve. “Hey.”

He remains unresponsive, eyes locked on the television. No, not completely unresponsive; the corner of his lip quirks just slightly. You tamp down a rising streak of irritation.

“Hey,” you repeat emphatically. 

With a sigh, the young man reaches out for the remote that rests on the arm of the couch, muting the television. He flattens you with an unimpressed look. “Yes?”

“What are you doing in my dreams?” The question seems unbelievably childish once you say it, so you cross your arms petulantly. This does not help.

He quirks an eyebrow, grin widening to reveal his teeth. “Enjoying myself,” he answers simply.

You huff. “Your stupid tent thing at the fair, was it even real?”

“Did it feel real to you? Did I feel real?” When you simply press your lips closer together in annoyance, he drops the cockiness, leveling an impatient stare at you. “You gave me permission to be here, I hope you remember. Words have power, Y/n.”

You frown at him, unsettled. “I never told you my name.” 

He barks out a condescending laugh. “And I never told you mine, but you know it, don’t you?”

You run your tongue over the edges of your teeth as you ponder this. His name comes to you like a fact once-forgotten. The moment you think it, you know wholeheartedly it’s right. “Taehyung. But- How do I know that?”

His eyebrow twitches down, like he’s tiring of your lack of understanding. “Because I’m in here, Y/n,” he hisses, pointing a finger to his temple. “I’m deep inside you, inside your subconscious. I can access every thought in that pretty little head of yours and you can’t do a single thing about it because you were the one that let me in.” 

You balk at the fiery steel that has entered his expression, the molten gold in his iris darkening as a sneer stretches across his face. You swallow away your nerves, though your chest continues to flutter uncertainly. As if Taehyung is the focal point of this plane, which you suppose he is, colours and textures shift around him, blurring into shapeless swirls at the edges of your vision. Even as he sits in front of you in startling clarity, just as malevolent in sweatpants and a tee as he was standing over you in the dark of the tent, you find your eyes unable to move off of him. You clear your throat, tears pricking. “I didn’t know what I was agreeing to,” you defend weakly. 

He laughs, one short bark that contains no real humor. “Yes, you did. I said ‘dream of me’ and you agreed. You just thought I was some fake scam artist, didn’t you?” With one swift movement, he stands up, and you falter back when you realise just how tall he is. He steps forward once, twice, three steps and his chest almost touches yours. While the swirling sands in his eyes normally jumped and flickered teasingly, now they churn in tight circles, belying his intent. You’re reminded of a shark circling in bloody water. “Well, Y/n,” Taehyung taunts, “do you believe me now?”

Though you tremble, you force yourself to push your chest forward and your chin up. “I believe you,” you allow, voice wavering only a little bit. “So, what are you?”

His lips tighten, eyes lifting to the ceiling in exasperation. You jump when you feel his hand brush your elbow, clasping your upper arm loosely. “Y/n, little Y/n,” he chastises, “stop asking questions that you already know the answer too. How terribly boring.”

You want to shake your arm out of his grip, but his touch is hot, like the heavy warmth of a fire, and you can’t help but want more of it. Judging by the way his fingertips tease at the sensitive skin of your shoulder, he knows it too. “Fine, you’re a sandman. What the fuck does that even mean?”

He sighs shortly, head tipping back down to catch your gaze. His arm drops, and you tremble at the cold air, feeling oddly put-out. “Sit down,” he commands simply. Without waiting for a response, he turns his back to you and flops his body onto the couch, kicking his feet back up onto the coffee table, eyes lazily following the characters on the muted television.

You bite your tongue, doing as he says. It’s strange; you’re barely aware of your own body in the dream, can barely feel the texture of the couch underneath you, yet every nerve in your body is hyper-fixated on the tingling remaining warmth from his hand on your shoulder. You feel yourself wanting to lean in to him in the hopes that he’ll put his hands on you again. You can’t help but wonder if it feels that electric if he touched you somewhere else. 

Fuck. Snap out of it. “I’ve sat down now. Can you actually be serious and answer my questions?”

Like a switch is flipped, his grin drops and his eyebrows flatten. “Fine,” he allows in a chastising tone, “let’s be serious.” You watch in amazement as the scenery around you drops away. Like melting wax, the television, walls, coffee table, everything but the couch the two of you are on morph and fade away. “This is my terrain now,” he states calmly, “I choose what you see, what you experience, what you feel. So if I were you I wouldn’t be so rude to me.” 

Your jaw moves for a few moments before you can voice anything. “Why are you doing this?”

His eyes flicker, though the mischievous glint is gone. “I’m a sandman,” he explains simply. “I only exist in this dream realm. I can only interact with things in the dream realm. Out there, in your world, I have no sensation, no feeling. But if I can get a naive little human like you to give me access into your mind, then your dreams are my playground. And I fully intend to play.” 

With a dry mouth, you clear your throat. “Fine,” you say, “you can do whatever the fuck you want in my dreams but leave me out of it.”

The smirk returns to his face, lips pulling back to reveal teeth. He runs his tongue over them as he sits forward, placing a hand on your knee, fingers wrapping around. You try not to jerk at the sudden touch, the burst of heat. “No can do, sweet thing. You see, if I did something without you around it wouldn’t exactly be your dream, would it? And besides,” he breaks off, grip tightening around your leg as he leans in to press his cheek against yours, teasingly nipping at the skin of your earlobe before he murmurs, “where’s the fun in that?” 

--

Your bed mocks you. This morning, wanting a clean slate, you had washed all the sheets and now it lies before you perfectly neat and pristine, just begging for you to hop in. 

But you refuse. You won’t be falling asleep tonight. If Taehyung thinks he’s in control during your dreams, then fine. You just won’t dream. 

“I thought you’d be making the most of your newfound ability to sleep,” Yoongi comments curiously, feet kicking at the edge of the mattress. You knew you wouldn’t be able to resist the exhaustion that pulled at your eyelids without reinforcements, so you had called in your favorite insomniac to keep you company. 

Swaying aimlessly back and forth on your desk chair, you shrug. “I haven’t hung out with you in ages, I felt like a good, old-fashioned sleepover.”

He narrows his eyes at you, though it’s not particularly intimidating. “I’ve never once slept over at your house, idiot. What’s the real reason?”

You avoid his gaze, studiously focusing on picking a movie on Netflix. “Fine, then. I wanted the goss on that fair boy. You got his number, right? But you never told me how it went.”

Mission successful. Yoongi lights up, suspicion forgotten. “Hoseok! His name is Hoseok, and he’s amazing. We actually… went out for coffee the other day.”

Your eyebrows lift, shutting down your laptop lid to fully give your attention to the boy across from you. “Like a date?” Yoongi grins and nods enthusiastically. “You casanova, you! What’s he like?”

Yoongi’s eyes flicker strangely in the dim evening glow that peeks through your curtains. “He’s great,” he gushes, “friendly, and bubbly, and has the most beautiful smile. But… actually, I guess you could say there’s something I need to tell you.”

You frown. “What? What’s up?”

He pouts, kicking his heels more insistently against the edge of the mattress. “The date was really nice, and Hoseok is really nice, but I couldn’t stop thinking that… that maybe I just liked him because he was like you.”

Your face freezes in an expression of pure confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Yoongi ducks his head. “I’ve been trying to deny it for years. I figured you saw me as a friend and nothing else, and I thought if maybe I focused more on guys instead of girls I could separate myself enough from the image of you, but clearly that isn’t going so well for me.” He laughs, bitterly, and you’re overcome with the urge to rush forward and hug him. Nevertheless, you stay rooted in your spot.

“Yoongi, what are you saying?”

He shrugs, body hunching over like it always does when he’s shy. “Hoseok is nice, but he’s not you. And I think it’s time that stop lying to myself.” He looks up, then, eyes soft. “I think I’m in love with you, Y/n.”

Your lips are parted, jaw slightly slack in shock. “...okay,” you state eventually. Well, this is one way to stay awake. “So, uh, I don’t- What do we do now?”

Scratching behind his ear nervously, Yoongi bites his lip. “Maybe I… Can I kiss you?” When you don’t respond, he shuffles forward a little on the bed so that his feet rest on the ground. “Just once, to see if you feel anything. And if you don’t, we never have to bring it up again.”

You sigh out a rushing breath. “Okay. Yeah, okay.” Fighting the erratic pounding of your heart, you stand up on shaky legs and sit beside him, shoulder to shoulder and nose to nose. 

Now that you’re right in front of him, something foreign rises up in your chest. It feels like he’s the only person in the world, like you can’t look away from the tender look in his eyes. You can practically feel the warmth of his skin through the thin cotton of his shirt. He leans forward, and you reflexively suck in a shallow breath, eyelids fluttering shut. 

His lips are featherlight when they first brush against yours. You feel a palm come up to cup your cheek, and his fingers tentatively fiddle with your hair. Like you’re magnetised, you lean in, and that small sign of reciprocation is enough for him. 

Yoongi deepens the kiss, mouth slanting to get a better angle as he urgently moves his lips against you, tongue dipping out to swipe at the seam of your lips, encouraging you to open up to him. You gasp when his teeth nip gently, tugging the sensitive skin before letting it go with a kitten lick to soothe the bite marks. You’ve never felt this alive before, and it’s a wonder to you that until now you had never looked at Yoongi this way. Now it almost feels like he’s pure, euphoric oxygen and you’ll die if you break away for a second. 

His hand has dipped into your hair, gently pressing the back of your head to hold you against him, and his other arm insistently grips your hip, encouraging you to get even closer. A searing bolt of need rips through you, and you swing a leg up, straddling him. He’s hard beneath you, and the feeling of him makes you groan, gingerly grinding your hips. 

His tongue is in your mouth now, flicking against yours and sucking it back into his mouth like he wants to envelop you in his embrace. His fingers tighten in your hair, gripping a handful. You whimper, hips still working against him. 

“Yoongi,” you make out in a hushed tone, “that hurts.” You sigh in relief when the sharp tugging on your scalp relaxes, his palm soothing the sting. Relaxing against him, you moan into his mouth when you feel him slip his hand under your shirt and palm at your breast, seeking out an already-stiff nipple, no bra to obstruct him. He rubs it, rolling the peak between two fingers, and you feel wet heat gathering between your legs. 

Out of nowhere, he roughly pinches and twists your nipple and your legs jerk in response to the pain, your instincts wanting you to back away from the harsh sensation, but before you can sit up off him he’s yanking on your hair again, twisting your neck back enough that you can feel the muscles twinge and your scalp burn. Your eyes fly open in shock, only for you to freeze. 

Taehyung sits beneath you, dressed in the same shirt and basketball shorts that Yoongi was in, though his much broader chest makes the baggy fabric look fitted. He stares up at you with spit-slicked lips and blown pupils, almost completely enveloping the gold of his irises. With a shit-eating grin, he releases your nipple and pats it, chuckling under his breath when you twitch. 

“Wha- What did you do with Yoongi?” you demand, as forcefully as you can while your legs are still around him. 

He drops his gaze, sliding his hand over to your other breast, the fabric moving over his hand your only warning before he begins to flick your other nipple, every few seconds as you jump and try and twist away. Though he only has one hand in your hair, you feel completely anchored in place, like your arms and legs are too heavy to move even if you tried. “Yoongi is at home, my little human. Haven’t you worked it out yet?”

“You pretended to be him,” you guess, “he probably never came over, then.” He quirks his eyebrows once in affirmation, still teasing roughly at your chest, dragging a fingernail over and over the abused nerves of your nipple, the other one still aching. “But you said you couldn’t feel anything in my world. So what, you’re just doing this to fuck with me?”

A bewildered grin lights up his face. “My god, you’re dense,” he remarks in wonder. “Let me spell it out for you. Yoongi never came over because you never texted him earlier tonight. And you never texted him because you’ve been asleep since you got up onto your bed to put on the washed pillowcases. This is a dream, sweet thing. You’re in my world.” 

“But-” You splutter for a few moments, glancing around at your room. Everything seems in perfect order. “This isn’t like the other ones, I… The dreams you create are always messy at the edges like an unfinished painting, but I can see everything fine now. This exactly what my room is like.” 

“Convenient, then,” Taehyung teases, “that I can make dreams as realistic or rudimentary as I want.” The levity vanishes from his face, leaving behind a dark grin. “You’re out of your depth, Y/n. Stop assuming things just because you don’t know any better.” 

His grip on your hair loosens as you do, realising shaking out of his hold is futile in a plane he completely controls. “Then how am I supposed to tell if something’s a dream or not?”

He leaves your nipple alone, hand dipping to fiddle with a pant hem of your pyjama shorts, calloused fingertips running lightly along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His smile is brilliant, wider than you’d ever seen on him before. “That’s the beauty of it, little human. You can’t.” 

You shiver as his hand disappears below the fabric of your shorts, rising up to brush against the front of your panties, thumbing at your clit through the cotton. You feel the tension leave your body, and though a part of you is terrified by this knowledge, a different side takes over. The side that’s indulging in the warm pleasure unfurling in your stomach as his uncharacteristically gentle touch stimulates you. The side that says, you already know you’re dreaming now. Fuck it. 

Taehyung watches in bemusement as you relax above him giving in. Only once you sigh out in pleasure, hand resting on his shoulder for stability, does he remove his thumb from you just enough to grip onto the elastic waistband. He tugs, and you feel the strangest sensation of the fabric dissolving, being pulled off you from the side even though you never hear or feel a tear. By the time his hand emerges from your pant leg, the fabric is whole again, and he bunches it up in his hand, chucking it away from you. With your panties gone, the sewn hem in the crotch of your pyjama shorts drags against your clit, and you heave a shuddering breath, rocking your hips to chase the friction. 

“Do you want a hint?” 

You blink, staring down at Taehyung in confusion. The golden silk of his hair hangs low over his forehead, but you can’t mistake the glitter of his piercing gaze on you. “What?”

His hand leaves your hair, sliding down your back until it rests on your ass, gripping the flesh and pushing you down onto his crotch. “A hint,” he repeats, “for knowing if this is a dream.” 

You stare down at him, eyes lidded. “What?” As you speak, you feel something begin to move beneath you. You frown, looking down, and suck in a horrified breath when you lean back and see his crotch. The tented erection from before is...shifting beneath the fabric of his shorts, creating a rippling effect. You watch it entranced, as one bump slides upwards towards the waistband, prodding at it, before it manages to slip underneath, peeking out to show something that glitters in the dim lighting… 

“The real world doesn’t have this,” he reveals, leaning back slightly as a rounded, blunt end of a golden appendage draws out of his shorts, rising in the air between the two of you. It’s smooth, fleshy yet entirely inhuman. He grips your ass tighter and pulls you forward, the tentacle feeling surprisingly cool as it lays down, curling around your thigh. It clashes with the heat from his hands on you, and you feel yourself sighing out, basking in the contrasting sensations.

“Is that...your real form?” you ask tentatively, curiously reaching down to touch it. It’s firm yet moving, much like muscle, and when you run a finger down the tapering length of it, it flicks in the air, seeking more of your touch.

“I suppose,” Taehyung allows, “though when I can become anything I like, a real form doesn’t matter much.” He stares intensely at the tip of the appendage as it winds around, sliding underneath the fabric of your shorts just as his hand did earlier, though this time with your panties gone there’s nothing between him and your core, and you let out a surprised moan when you feel it begin to massage your clit, pressing its way lower to try and get between you and his crotch, seeking your entrance. Your mouth falls open, too shocked to react to anything except the pleasure, and the sandman hums in response. “You see? These things don’t exist in your world. Your world is dull, basic, human. In here, anything is possible. This doesn’t have to be a fight, Y/n. Give in to me.”

You sigh out, your stomach thick with pleasure, and you nod slowly, lifting your hips to leave some room for the golden tentacle, which doesn’t hesitate before pressing deep inside you, more and more of the tentacle slipping out of his trousers and up into your cunt until you feel a pressure deep inside, the tip poking at your cervix. 

Your legs are jelly and your fingers are iron tight on his shoulders as you moan, the sound broken up by choked gasps. “So...deep,” you pant out, mind unable to string together anything more than that, but Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind, as his brows are knitted together in pleasure too, huffing out groaned breaths in a beautiful baritone. 

“God, it’s been so fucking long, you have no idea,” he curses deep in his throat. He closes his eyes in concentration, and you feel the thick muscle shift inside you, recending from your wet heat like waves in low tide, before slamming back up into you, striking your g-spot with a change in angle. You keen, head falling forward to rest on his shoulder, wishing you were out of the restricting fabric of your shirt and shorts already, wishing you could run your hands over his bare chest and shoulders, hot like a furnace even as his golden member cools you from the inside. 

It’s a feeling you’ve never experienced. The cock inside you moves and writhes like it has a mind of its own, but it’s addictive; almost like the deft flicks of a tongue, the tentacle navigates you from the inside out, stimulating parts of you you didn’t even know could feel pleasure. You find yourself mindlessly grinding into it. Since it gets thicker the closer to the base it gets - though you still haven’t seen where that might be with how long it is - you rock yourself against it, your clit receiving delicious stimulation that has you almost drooling. 

Taehyung’s tanned skin is glistening with perspiration and the glow of his irises is so dark it’s almost amber below his lids. With his hands gripping your ass and hips tightly, he lifts you up onto your knees again so that he can begin to rut his hips up into you, the tentacle splitting you open with every thrust. You tremble and buckle but you’re somehow kept aloft, top half leaning heavily on his chest as the stretch and the deep warmth of pleasure bring you closer to the edge.

On this angle, your clit no longer grinds against the gleaming gold of his slick-covered cock, but Taehyung’s thumb blissfully finds it and you cry out in relief as he quickly rubs it, speeding up your high. “‘m close,” you moan out deliriously, feeling desperation at your impending orgasm shorten your breath. 

“Thank god,” the sandman breathes, his face increasing as he grunts with exertion, “I need to fill this perfect pussy of yours up already.”

Your mouth drops open as the constant stimulation paired with his words pitch you over the edge. Your orgasm takes you by storm, seizing up and shuddering violently on top of him. When you clench around him, Taehyung swears throatily and lowers you down again, both hands firmly planted on your ass as he grinds deeply into your core, reaching his own end.

You’re slowly on the come-down of your powerful orgasm as he begins to spill into you, and you hiss at the sudden warmth filling you up. Streaks and streaks are milked from him, and when you finally get the energy to sit up a little and look down, your eyes widen. 

Your stomach is a little rounder than normal, a bulge just below your belly button that you can see as your shirt’s ridden up. And below that, your pyjama shorts, absolutely soaked with cum. Your hands grip his shoulders as you feel him continuing to move inside you as the fabric turns dark with moisture, until you see it flood past, wetting your thighs with deep bronzed gold, rich and gleaming. When he finally twitches and goes still, the thick substance has begun to slide down your knees and stain the bed, an exorbitant amount of it that spills more and more every time you shift. 

In wonder, you lower a hand and tentatively swipe your fingers through it, marveling at the way it reflects the light and glosses thickly, dripping down to your wrist. Unable to resist the curiosity, you wrap your lips around the tip of your pointer finger and suck, letting the taste of him fill your mouth. Immediately, you hum as the rich taste of dark chocolate fills your mouth, at odds wth the metallic colour. You raise your gaze to Taehyung, who’s propped back on his elbows, staring up at you with his cock still buried deeply inside. His eyes are dark, pupils blown even wider than before as you systematically lick off each finger, being sure to flick your tongue between them before catching the drip that runs halfway down your forearm, indulging in the deep flavor. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Taehyung swears, groaning when you lean forward to press your mouth to his, sharing his taste between your lips. 

You let your tongues lazily dance around each other for a few languid moments before he curses and breaks off.

“I can’t hold it,” he admits, and you look around  to see the walls and furniture in your room crystallising and morphing together, losing detail until the colour begins to melt away, the black void slowly creeping inwards. “I don’t want this to end already, fuck.” 

🔥 She got two little horns and they get me a little bit 🔥

"Did you...did you steal my shirt?"

You look down at yourself and you're pleased with what you see, his shift knotted above your bellybutton, a pair of cut-offs showing off your thick thighs. So why isn't he?

You frown, sticking your tongue out at him briefly. "I would say borrowed."

Jungkook clears his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck, a flush starting down his throat.

"Okay," he mumbles, and that's it. He retreats into his room like you aren't giving off all his favorite pheromone scents like musk and sweat and for some reason, hard plastic? You were able to target his lust triggers, that was what you'd been born for, after all.

You pout as you plop down on the couch in the apartment you share with your roommate and your newest mission: Jeon Jungkook.

He practically reeked of innocence, so pure and sweet it made your teeth ache, and you were dying to corrupt him.

Thing is, you're new to this - you'd only just turned 21, the age that you were able to starting practicing corruption, but for a baby succubus you thought your practice runs went pretty well.

Mark Lee still sent you an occasional sext after a year and all you'd done was wink and release some pheromones.

Just last week, in class, Jennie Kim had asked you to dinner and you hadn't even been trying, just absently smiling at her from across the room.

But you'd been working on Jungkook for months, moving into his apartment, and sure maybe you'd goofed by being a bit too eager and showing up before he'd actually posted the ad, but you'd played it off.

You'd shown up wearing ripped jeans and a hoodie that was only one size too small, showing the dip of your lower back when you turned to tour the apartment, and you would've sworn you could feel his eyes on you.

You'd even been careful not to come on too strong, and you'd been so tempted to leave the bathroom door ajar but your father, a respected incubi, had taught you the art of subtlety.

So what if you'd let him catch you dancing in your underwear in the kitchen that one time? Who doesn't slut drop while cooking ramen sometimes?

His blush and his strangled, "Sorry," when he'd bolted to his room had encouraged you, but still....nothing. Not even an accidental brushing of hands.

Today...you had a trick up your sleeve. Your father said such things are for amateurs, but you are an amateur, this is your first try with an actual innocent.

You walk to the kitchen and rattle the jar of pomegranate seeds. They glowed red and you smirk a little. Surely, he only needed a little push.

It's after dinner when he asks about them.

"What are those?" He asks, sitting impossibly far away from you at the head of the table.

You perk up, smiling. "My dad sent them. They're pomegranate seeds....from my hometown."

"Oh yeah?" He looks interested, and you inwardly squeal.

"You wanna try one?"

He gives you a sweet smile, and your heart melts a little.

"Aw, you only have a few. I wouldn't want to waste them. They remind you of home, yeah? That's important."

Your mouth is practically watering at how pure he is, but you hesitate when you grab the jar. There's this weird extra thump in your heart and you suddenly feel guilty for even thinking of tricking him.

"Jungkook...." You start, bringing the jar back to the table and sliding your chair up close to him.

He stiffens and you sigh.

"Yeah, Y/n?"

"What would you say if I told you these seeds are special? An... aphrodisiac, of sorts."

Jungkook chokes on his water and it spills down his throat, pooling deliciously at the cup of his collarbone.

Your tongue flicks out to wet your lips unconsciously, and for the first time, you see him focus on your mouth.

"I-I...I'd say that's... interesting." He looks away, focusing on his hand tightening around his glass on the table.

"Would you like to try them with me?"

His eyes shoot to yours. "What... what do they do?"

You hum happily a little, finally sensing his pheromones rolling off him. "Well," you say bluntly, "they make you horny. And also a little drunk. Imagine a few beers when you haven't been able to get off in a week."

Jungkook hides his face with one big hand, but he's smiling when he peeks at you between his fingers, his face pink.

"Give me one."

You draw in an excited breath, heat already pooling at the crotch of your cut-offs.

You feel so much lighter now that you've told him, that this is a decision he's made on his own.

When you pop one in your mouth, you can't help dropping him a wink, and his breath catches in his throat.

You actually weren't sure how much of an affect they'd have on you, but you're willing to risk it for your chance at success.

You take one between your fingers and offer it to him, and when he opens his mouth instead of his palm your brain stutters a little.

Oh, boy. This was going to be so much fun.

You drop it on his tongue and he makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat.

"Oh. It's sweet," he says softly, looking up at you and your knees go so weak you have to sit down.

You both end up on the couch, a movie playing in the background, and after a half hour you aren't feeling much different, maybe a bit fuzzy around the edges.

"Y/n?" Jungkook says slowly, and you look over at him.

"Hmm?" His eyes are on your legs, which are curled up under you, and you stretch them out slow.

He makes that pleased sound in his throat again.

"I...I want to say things, but I don't want to offend you." It seems like it takes a real effort to look up at your face, but he does and you can't help the soft smile that spreads across your face.

You hope you get to find out if he tastes as sweet as he acts, and you pivot to face him, careful not to touch him with your legs or feet but stretching them on the couch, flexing your thighs.

"I was upset when I saw you in my shirt."

You frown a little, but then he reaches out to circle your ankle with his hand, gently.

"You're not wearing a bra," he breathes, eyes darting to your breasts and then back up to your face.

You shake your head, smirking a little. "I'm not. I didn't think you noticed."

"I've been thinking about your tits all day," he blurts.

Your mouth parts and you sit up straight, watching his face. "You think about me?"

"All the time," he admits, nodding eagerly.

You swing your feet to the floor and he whines a little at the loss of just the contact of his hand on your ankle.

When you kneel down between his legs, he groans long and low and maybe the seeds were affecting you more than you thought because your skin feels hot at the sound.

"Tell me what you think about," you whisper, and he shifts on the couch a bit, looking down at you with wide, glassy eyes.

"I think about how you taste." He swallows hard.

"My mouth?"

"Your mouth. Your tits. Your cunt," he breathes, and you can almost see how the hell seeds start to take full effect, how he's flushed now not from embarrassment but from lust.

"Tell me more." You command and he shifts again and you can see the hard line of him against his leg in his jeans.

"I want to taste you everywhere. Everywhere. I want to slide my cock between your tits. I touch myself every night thinking of you. I want....I want you to touch me. Y/n, will you please touch me?"

You inhale sharply, because that's the sign, that's the sign that it's time to take his innocence, make his soul yours, but something stops you, even with the buzz in your head and the tingle in your body from the seeds.

"If this is only from the seeds...." You start, and he leans up to look right in your eyes, all earnest.

"I always want you, Jagiya. Wanted you the first time I saw you." He says, softly, and your chest aches.

You stand on your knees to kiss him, then, softly, and he moans into your mouth, tongue meeting yours sloppily.

You pull away long enough to climb onto his lap and when you grind your hot core against his erection his face looks almost pained, mouth slack.

You've got your tits in his face but he's still looking up into your eyes, waiting for permission and you take his hands and bring them to your hips. He squeezes almost instantly.

"Oh. Oh. You're so soft."

His voice is so quiet, almost awed and you lean forward to press your breasts into his face and he moans and turns his head to search for your nipple with his mouth, wetting the fabric of the shirt you'd stolen from him with his tongue.

Then his hands go up under it instead, cupping your breasts, and he drags his thumbs along the peaks of your nipples.

You moan softly and his hips twitch beneath you at the sound.

"You're so big and hard, Kookie," you croon, and roll your hips against him.

"Mmm, only for you. Only you make me this hard," he says earnestly, looking up into your eyes again.

"Do you want to fuck me, Kookie?" You ask in a purr, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging at his hair, just a bit.

"Y/n...I want to fuck you so bad," he says breathlessly. "But..." He licks at his lips, searching your face.

You frown. "But what, baby?"

"I might not be very good. I'm... I feel...I feel hot, like I might come the moment you touch me."

He's gone all stiff on the couch, canting his hips away from yours.

You cover your mouth to hide a smile and lean down to murmur in his ear.

"That's okay. The seeds... they help your refractory period. If you want....we could fuck all night. Over and over again."

Jungkook bucks hard beneath you, hands clamping down on your hips, and you yelp in surprise.

"Fuck. Fuck," he whispers, looking "You're my dream girl, you know that?"

His big brown eyes are glassy and soft, and when he puts one hand on your cheek you turn your face into it.

You aren't sure what this new feeling is, this warmth in your chest and throat, how looking down at his face makes your heart skip.

You'd expected the dirty talk, after all, what else were the devil's pomegranates for? But it's peppered with such sweetness when he starts to babble, stuttering a little.

“I see your face every morning when I open my eyes, you know? You’re so sexy. So beautiful. When I saw you in my shirt this morning I thought my heart was going to burst. I’ve never done this, you know. Any of this. I’ve never gotten past second base but I want you so bad, Y/n. I want you to give me your body...want to give you mine. I’ve never felt this way. . I-I-I want...would you give me your heart, too, Y/n, if I asked?”

You make a surprised sound in the back of you throat at how your heart lurches at his words.

Your job was to take his soul, feed off his sexual desperation, to corrupt his innocence...but you’d never considered his heart. Or your own.

You deflect, not knowing what to do with the way you feel, and you climb off of him and he whines, reaching out to you.

You can’t help smiling, grabbing his hand to tug him up. “Let’s go to the bedroom, yeah?”

Jungkook blinks slowly. “Yours or mine?” He asks, eagerly, and you laugh at how he bounces on his heels.

“Mine,” you call over your shoulder, but when you get to the edge of the couch he grabs you, spins you around and bends you over the couch arm, stepping to spread a thigh between your legs and then rocking his hips up into you, doubled over, long moans coming out of his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he groans. “I’m sorry but your ass in those shorts, Y/n...I need...” He ruts into you again and his hand is gentle on your lower back so you straighten up and raise your hand around his neck to tug his hair again.

Jungkook grunts and lets you slip out, watching you with desperate eyes.

“Patience, baby,” you croon, and plant a kiss on his lips before tugging at his hand again to lead him to your bedroom.

He stands patiently at the edge of the bed, all nervous energy, bouncing on his heels and you wiggle out of your shorts and he hitches in a long breath.

“Oh, god,” he says, almost mournfully, when you climb up on the bed.

You start to tug off his shirt and he shakes his head, making a grunt of protest.

“Leave it on, please,” he says politely.

He’s looking you up and down when he climbs onto the bed, sitting on his knees and he gives you a desperate look.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“I-I-I don’t know where to start,” he admits. “I want to touch you everywhere. I want to do everything with you.”

You laugh again, and a big smile spreads across his face when you sit up, tugging at the bottom of his shirt.

He lifts his arms to let you and when you spread your hands over the expanse of his skin, he’s so hot to the touch you’re a bit worried that the seed was too much for his body.

“You...you feeling okay, Kookie?”

“Hot,” he mumbles, watching your face as if it’s something precious. “I’m just a little hot.” 

You don’t like the panic that climbs up your throat, you know how to fix this, you’re a succubus, after all, your body was born to cure the effects, but his words keep repeating in your head, all the sweet things he’s said to you, even suffering from the effects of the world’s strongest aphrodisiac.

Could you do this? Could you do this, knowing what it might mean for him?

“Lie down for me, baby. I’m going to make it better, yeah?”

He nods and obeys, stretching out on the bed, and when you straddle his thighs and unbutton his jeans, he lets out a quiet whimper.

He’s sweating from the effects of the seed, his honeyed skin glistening. You wonder if he knows how good he looks, how much your succubus senses are screaming at you to ride him until he cries, how much you’re at war with your heart pounding against your breastplate.

“Wait,” he says, but he doesn’t make any move to stop you when you reach into his boxers to free his cock, standing hard and pretty against his stomach, curved up slightly, and damn if it isn’t as pretty as the rest of him.

“Wait, wait,” he chants. “I want to see you. Want to taste you,” he babbles, but when you circle him gently with your thumb and forefinger a groan rumbles from his chest and he throws his head back, covering his face with his forearm.

“In a minute, baby,” you mumble, distracted, trying to focus on helping him instead of the buzzing through your body, the want. 

You lie between his legs on your forearms and he spreads his thighs so obediently and you let out a little moan.

He moves his arm enough to peek down at you and his hips buck involuntarily. “Shit,” he pants. “Shit, are you gonna- oh, fuck-”

He cries out your name when you lick up the seam of his balls up the underside of his shaft, taking the head of his cock in your mouth.

You imagine his heart rate is skyrocketing, and you don’t waste time, ignoring how fuzzy your head is from the seed and his pheromones rolling over you in a wave.

You take him deeper, gagging a little when he bucks his hips, and he mumbles apologies between low moans.

“Oh, god, oh god, oh please-”

You use your hand in tandem with your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip and it’s only a moment before he’s crying out, over and over.

“Ah ah ah-”

He leans up, trembling all over, trying to cup your face in his hands but you shake your head and take him deeper, stroking his foreskin up and down, on a mission.

God, his come tastes so sweet, just the right amount of salt and musk and you keep moving your head until his cries have turned into faint whimpers before you pop off him.

His broad chest is heaving but when you curl up next to him and kiss his cheek, he’s cooler than before, and you sigh in relief.

You press your thighs together a bit when he turns his head to look at you, giving you a lazy smile. 

“Thank you,” he breathes, and you smile at him.

“Feel better?”

“I feel amazing. I feel...” he frowns a little. “You’re not leaving, are you? You can’t - I want to-” he struggles with his words, head spinning, and you sit up, crossing your legs under you.

You shake your head. “I’m not going anywhere. I need...I need to tell you something.”

You look him over and shake your head again to clear it, trying not to think about how wrecked he looks already, sweat gleaming on his muscled chest, cock still hard and leaking precum against his hard stomach.

He struggles as if he’s trying to sit up but you push him back down.

“Just...just let me show you something.” 

You tilt your head down into his view, parting your hair to show him the nubs of your horns, mottled red and black, shaved down before you left home for your mission.

He makes a little surprised noise, but otherwise, doesn’t react. “Are those...are those...”

“Horns,” you say miserably. “I’m a demon, Jungkook. A succubus, actually, and I was supposed to...I wanted to feed off you. I wanted to corrupt you.”

He’s quiet for a moment and you put your hair back into place, hide your face with your hands. You’re not sure why you’re telling him this, you know it’s against the rules, you know he’ll probably yell and kick you out, but you can’t do this, not without him knowing the risks.

“Oh. Oh.”

When you peek at him through your fingers, his lip is trembling.

“I’m sorry,” he says brokenly, and you frown, moving your hand from your face.

There are tears standing in his eyes.

“I’m not good enough, yeah? You don’t want me? You got stuck with me and-”

Tears are springing to your eyes and you shake your head violently, scrambling to straddle his lap and kiss him over and over, all over his face.

“No. No. You’re perfect. You’re so perfect. I just...I didn’t want to use you like that. I didn’t want to hurt you. If I feed from you, you might...you might get addicted to it, so I should just go and-”

He cups your cheek to caress your jaw with his thumb, eyes so big and wet and dark you could drown in them.

“Oh, baby,” he whispers. “Don’t you see? I already am.”

A sob hitches in your chest. “You’d...you’d want me anyway?”

“Of course I do. Of course I want you, Y/n. You want my soul? You can have it. It was half yours the moment you smiled at me,” he says fiercely, and leans his head up to kiss you.

You moan into his mouth. your body reacting after you’d been denying it so long, and you know once he sobers up he’ll probably kick you out of his house but so what? You’d failed, anyway.

You roll your hips against him and he’s hardening again already. He sighs against your mouth, a happy sound that makes your heart feel lighter.

“You can feed off me forever, Y/n, please, we can spend days in bed, please, please corrupt me,” he babbles when you pull away. 

You groan and roll your hips again, spreading your wetness against his cock and he hisses through his teeth.

“God, I bet your cunt feels like heaven even though you’re from hell, yeah? Please. Please.”

He puts his hands on your hips, lifting you up and canting his hips toward you, whining, and you bite your bottom lip, torn.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Jungkook-”

“I do. I do. I don’t care. I don’t care if it damns me forever, I want you. I-I-I love you, Y/n.”

Goddamnit, he’s so earnest and sweet and you can’t say no. You can’t deny him anything.

“Okay. Okay, baby.” 

You grip his cock at the base and slide down on him, clenching down immediately from hours of teasing him and yourself.

A strangled moan rips from his throat.

“Oh, fuck. Oh fuck, this is...this is...” He clenches his jaw, hips bucking beneath you so hard that you have to brace your hands on his chest to keep from toppling over.

You lean down to kiss and bite at his throat and he whimpers, his hips rolling under you desperately.

“Can I...I need to...” He huffs out a breath in frustration when he can’t get the words out and you laugh a little.

“You wanna be on top, yeah, baby?” 

He nods eagerly and flips you over, kissing you so hard your lips feel bruised and then kissing anywhere he can reach, your collarbone, the swell of your breast, catching a nipple in his mouth and moaning against your skin.

Your breath is coming faster, and now it’s you who can’t stop moaning, finally having him where you want him, finally having him inside you, wrapped around him like a vice, after months, and you let yourself go.

“Jungkook,” you breathe, and he drops down to cradle your face in his hands, moving only his hips.

“You-you....you’re so hot, Jagiya. So hot and tight and wet.”

You feel almost satisfied for the first time in months, your stomach coiling with need.

You finally come when he kisses you again, biting at your lip and your vision goes blurry for a moment. 

He starts to move faster when he feels you clenching around him, whimpering, almost as if he’s in pain. “It’s better than I ever dreamed, you coming around my cock, Jagiya, you’re so perfect. My dream girl.”

He kisses up your throat as he pistons into you, moving his hands under your ass to get deeper. When he comes he bites down on your neck and you cry out.

When he pulls out almost immediately, you frown, whining at feeling empty.

But he slides down your body, dipping his tongue into your bellybutton, and you gasp.

"I want to know what we taste like together," he says simply when he settles between your legs, and you think maybe he's the addictive one, after all.

🔥🔥🔥

For weeks, you think he'll wake up one day and kick you out, tell you to go to hell where you belong, but he stays sweet as sugar no matter how gray his soul gets from your corruption.

He pouts so much when you try to go back to your own room that you end up moving your stuff into his, and he uses the extra room as a gym, having to work out constantly if you aren't home or he isn't busy so that he doesn't ache with want for you.

You keep thinking you'll get used to him waking you up by rutting into your lower back, his breath hot against the back of your neck, but every time, it's a pleasant surprise.

You work it out, despite all the obstacles, because he always kisses the tip of your horns before he leaves for class and he accepts all the darkest parts of you, lets you feed off him, indulges your every whim.

One hundred years ago, your town had made a deal with the fey. To willingly give them any female of their choice to wed the future king. Over the century, the town grew and those original families never left. Few girls of the proper age were left, and you were one of them. 

The date was set to be October 28th, when the agreement itself was originally made. The eligible females were left by the woods in an old, well kept building made specifically for this day. There were no locks on any doors nor windows in the one room building. There was a large fireplace to keep warm, along with sofas and chairs to lounge in.

You were in a white dress too sheer for your liking, with a blanket wrapped around you while you tended to the fire. The other girls gossiped over who they thought would be taken, and how they felt so lucky and were overjoyed to be there. You, however, just wanted to go home. After a while, some of the girls seemed to have quieted down; it was getting late and the moon was high in the sky. A yawn escaped you as you added more wood to the fire. You pushed a chair closer to the warmth and laid down in it, letting yourself drift off to a light sleep, briefly wondering if you should try to barricade yourself inside. 

You woke up with the fire having nearly gone out, and you felt a shiver of fear overtake you. A cold breeze lowers the temperature in the room, and you realize that the door is open. You open your eyes and move slowly, surveying the room. A large, humanoid creature was surveying the room, taking its time looking at each girl. Nearby, a girl coughs in her sleep. 

It turns its head and looks around you, and slowly walks in your direction. You pull the blanket around you, fear causing your heart to pound in your ears. You kept your breathing stead, trying to remain calm. You close your eyes and feign sleep, wanting it to pass you and leave you be. 

“I know you’re awake, Y/N,” a deep, undeniably masculine voice says. The hair on your arms stands up; he knows your name. He bends down, his face merely inches from yours. “Now, will you come willingly or must I use force?”

You don’t answer, but he takes your lack of movement for one. He scoops you up in his arms, and he's very warm. He makes sure the blanket is still wrapped around you, and he gently touches your forehead, rendering you unconscious. 

You slowly wake back up, and you notice how comfortable the bed you're laying in is. The sheets are soft and smell clean. Your eyes slowly open to the light, and you find yourself in a fairly barren room. As you slowly sit up, a very handsome man rushes over. His appearance was certainly ethereal and non human.

"Be careful, that spell can make a bear stay down. Easy," He says, obviously concerned for you as he places his hand on your back to help you sit up. "How are you feeling?" He asks, searching your eyes. 

You can't help but blush as you look away. "Fine, I suppose. I would rather be home," you say, finding a window to look outside. 

"Well… this is your new home. I hope you will learn to enjoy it," he says, standing up. "There is a bath waiting for you in the room over. I suggest you go now. Someone will bring you breakfast. There is a festival tonight that your presence is required at." He informs you, opening a door to the bathroom. 

"What kind of festival? I've not heard of one this time of year…" you ask, getting out of bed. "And who are you?" 

"Oh! I'm so sorry! My name is Yukhei, Wong Yukhei," Yukhei says. "I'm normally called Lucas, but please, call me Yukhei." 

As you get out of bed, he explains, “The festival is for us. There has to be a ritual so you can be with me.” Yukhei walks over and takes your hand, helping you stand. “Because we, as creatures of the fey, live longer, there is an ancient ritual that we must perform so you can stay with me as my wife.” 

You stumble at his words, and he effortlessly leads you to the bathroom, where hot water was waiting for you. You aren’t sure what to say, and it doesn’t bother him. 

“I’ll leave you here. I will see you tonight. Please, be careful and do not leave this building without me. It isn’t safe for you out there.” Yukhei warns you, kissing your knuckles before leaving you alone. 

Hours later, you’re dressed in a dress that seems to be made of pure moonlight. The silver reflects every light, and the dress both hugs your body and leaves room for easy movement. It has long, flowing sleeves and a slight train that follows you out of the room you learnt was to be your bedroom- shared with Yukhei, of course. 

You found him waiting by the front door, looking even more handsome in his suit. He has you hold onto one of his arms as he opens the door. 

"Whatever you do," Yukhei warns you, "don't let go of my arm and try not to look any of them in the eyes. If you get scared, just hold closer to me. I'm not only their leader, but a high elf. I'm stronger than them, so don't worry." 

You nod, not understanding why he was saying such silly things, but deciding to agree nonetheless. 

You walk through a brilliant garden, surprised at how many flowers were blooming even though it was not in them. Once you exited the main gate, many different types of creatures greeted you. Most seemed to be having fun, and were greeting you with bowing and murmurs of “your majesty.” You heard music the closer you got to the festival, and the creatures were both of your nightmares and dreams. 

All sorts of mythical creatures had gathered, from elves and faeries to oni and tengu, and other types of yokai. Your grip on Yukhei tightened as you made your way to the riverside. Lanterns lit your pathway, and Yukhei remained a steady guide so you wouldn’t trip. You stop by an empty basin, and the music fades away into the wind.

An elderly nekomata steps forward from the crowd, making its way to your feet. The two-tailed cat purrs and rubs itself against you, doing the same with Yukhei. 

“He is accepting you on behalf of the others,” he whispers in your ear. 

A kodama or anito, you aren’t quite sure which, comes over to you, carrying a small bowl above its head. The little creature fills it with water from the river, then offers it to Yukhei. He begins to fill the basin with the help of it, acting rather solemn as he lets your arm go. When he does, you feel vulnerable and hyper-aware of all the creatures surrounding you that could easily kill you if they wished.

The nekomata returns, leaping upon the basin. It drops an odd assortment of herbs into the basin, and the water starts to tint to a light purple. 

An elf appears before you with an ornate knife on a cushion. Fear chilled your spine as Yukhei smiled softly, but you couldn’t read what was in his eyes. He took the knife and brought it to his finger, gently slicing the skin. Three drops of blood join the water, and it causes ripples upon the smooth surface. You gasp as Yukhei does so, but when you look up, the elf was already bandaging his finger. 

A faerie brings you an intricately carved wooden cup, and you take it as offered. 

“Dip it in and drink,” Yukhei whispers. 

You look at him and raise an eyebrow, wondering what it would taste like. You do as he says, and are surprised at the taste. It’s certainly like a tea, with a hint of mint in it. You drink the entire cup before looking at him expectantly. 

He smiles softly and takes the cup, handing it to the faerie. 

You suddenly begin to feel nauseous, but also extremely hot. You feel sick, and you know your feet won’t keep you up much longer.

Before you can fall, Yukhei sweeps you off your feet. He takes off his shoes and yours, carrying you into the river. You suddenly fear that he will drown you, but he keeps you in his arms. The water cools you down, and you begin to feel as though you drank too much alcohol. Dizzy, you rest your head against his muscular chest. 

“Shh, I’ve got you, baobei,” he assures you. 

You blush as you realize you had groaned in pain, and look away to the full moon. Yukhei gently trickles the water onto your forehead, then gently kisses your temple. 

“That’s it here. Let’s go home, okay?” Yukhei asks, and you nod in response, too tired to disagree. 

He carries you, both of you soaking wet, back to what you realize is a castle. He walks you to your bedroom, which had a small fire lit so the room was warm. 

"There's one last thing to compete the ritual," he tells you, beginning to take off his wet clothes. 

"Please enlighten me, because I have no clue what any of that was about. I mean, I drank your blood!" You say, feeling more clear headed now. 

"It makes you immortal, or near so. Like I said, you need to be a suitable partner for me. Everything was perfect except your mortality. And to finish it, well, we have sex," he explains. 

Your snark immediately fades into surprise, and you look at him blankly. "What?" You ask.

Yukhei grabs a warm towel as he undresses and dries off, causing you to look away. "We have sex. You are my wife. I know some human customs, and women don't get shamed for sleeping with their husband," he says. 

You don't really know how to respond, and Yukhei doesn't push you any. He takes a towel and starts drying you off, messaging your wet hair into it. 

"Can I at least undress you so you can wear something dry? It's not safe to get sick after that ritual," Yukhei explains, hesitating with his hands at the ties of your dress.

"Yes, but explain how it isn't safe," you bargain. 

Although you cannot see him behind you on the bed, he nods. You feel his fingers begin to untie and loosen the dress, as he explains. "The ritual itself is dangerous, as it alters the person's mortality and changes them physically. During this time, you are both extremely weak and impressively strong. Your immune system is forced to lower in order for this change to occur, which means you can get sick easier. And that also means you being sick would be more dangerous. Especially if it turns into a worse sickness." 

With warm, gentle touch he pulls down the sleeves and dress, and you were suddenly glad he was behind you. Yukhei takes the towel and wraps it around you, and you stand up, letting the dress fall off. He gently rubs you dry, avoiding you private areas. 

"Why did you choose me?" You ask, still avoiding the topic of sex. 

He smiles and pulls you back on the bed next to him, keeping one of your hands in his. "Do you really not remember?" Yukhei laughs, causing you to tilt your head in confusion. "When we were little, we would play together in the woods. After your school and my lessons, we would play all sorts of games." 

"But that child's name was Lucas… and he was my imaginary friend," you say in disbelief. 

Yukhei laughs once again, shaking his head. "I told you already, I'm often called Lucas. We met when you slipped into the creek. I helped you get out and rescued your shoe from the mud." 

Your eyes light up as you remember the incident, and a sudden wave of relief washes over you. People thought you were crazy over this friendship, as there was no one named Lucas in town. 

You have an urge to lean in and kiss Yukhei, so you do. His lips were soft against yours, and he gladly kissed you back. 

"I'm guessing you believe me?" He asks with a smirk. 

"Shut up and kiss me," you respond, letting him pull you closer. This prompts you to straddle his lap and pull on his hair. 

He gladly does so, his hands gripping your hips firmly, but gently. You try to get your tongue to explore his mouth, but he utterly dominates you. After what was nearly an hour of kissing he pulls away. Yukhei gently rubs his thumb across your cheekbone, his hand cupping your face. Despite being extremely hard against your thigh, his words were tender and his eyes serious.

"Do you want to keep going, or do you want to stop?" Yukhei asks. "Either way it's up to you, Baobei." 

"Baobei?" You softly ask, the term unfamiliar. 

"Baby, my baby," he whispers lovingly. Your heart melts at his tenderness, and you know you give in. You're helpless against his charms. 

"Yukhei," you begin, "I- I want you to keep going. I'm sure of it." 

He doesn't question your words, and he goes back to kissing you. Yukhei guides your hips down, grinding on his muscular thigh to give you friction. He holds you up by your thighs, laying you on the bed with his lips still on yours. Yukhei only pulls away to take off the rest of your dress. 

You consider hiding yourself from him, but you get mesmerized by the look he was giving you. It was one of pure admiration and desire. 

"Baobei… you're gorgeous," he whispers, covering your body with his. Yukhei kisses your lips briefly before moving down your neck. He bites and sucks marks onto your neck, causing soft gasps to escape you. One of Yukhei's hands ghosts up your body and he begins to knead your breasts, pinching your nipple. He moves his mouth the the free one, nipping and sucking until the skin bloomed colors. Yukhei then shifted and gave the same attention to the other one, electing many soft moans from you. 

You could feel your thighs getting slick with your wetness, and he hadn't even touched you there yet. You blush as his mouth travels between the valley of your breasts. Yukhei moves and settles between your legs, holding them open as he gazes at your womanhood. 

"Fuck, you're pussy is so wet for me already," he groans, diving right in with a long lick of your juices. He moans again, adding, "and you taste amazing." 

You tense and pull away from him, but Yukhei grips your hips firmly and growls, "Behave for me. If you don't stay still I will tie you down." 

You gasp as he goes back to eating you out, his tongue thrusting into you as his thumb rubbed your clit. Yukhei moans into you, and the vibrations make you realize the building pressure in your stomach that was threatening to collapse. 

You gasp softly and grab at the sheets, and Yukhei smirks against your thighs. He inserts a finger into you, searching for your spot. When he finds it he knows by how you immediately try to close your legs. 

"Baobei," Yukhei growls, pushing your legs open again as he continues thrusting into you, relishing how you come closer to your high. 

Yukhei watches as he adds another finger into you, groaning at the obscene wet noises. He sucks in your clit, teasing the bud between his teeth. 

You let out a sob of pleasure as you orgasm harshly, and Yukhei gladly laps it up. Your legs shake as you try to ground yourself, taking deep breaths. 

"Are you okay, Y/N?" He softly asks, his clean hand touching your cheek. 

You nuzzle into his hand, nodding. He smiles at how cute you are, his thumb running across your lips. 

"Open," he firmly commands. 

You do as he asks, arousal shooting straight to your core. He puts his fingers in your mouth, the ones covered in your juices. 

"Suck." 

You do, blushing at tasting yourself. "Good girl," Yukhei praises, his voice husky and deeper. 

He then stands up and removes the towels, baring your body and his more fully to each other. Your mouth waters at the sight of his toned body and his happy trail. Your eyes widened at his cock, proudly erect and weeping precum. Yukhei smirks at your reaction before joining you back on the bed, making himself comfortable between your legs. 

"Are you okay with this?" He asks once more, and you begin to see the magic swirling in his eyes. 

You nod, and he raises an eyebrow.

"Words, Baobei," he growls, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock, getting himself slick with your juices. 

"Yes, please yes, fuck," you breath out, biting your lip to hold back your moans.

Yukhei grins and spits onto his hand, gathering it and your juices to coat himself. He eases himself into you, slowly watching as your face contorts. Once he's fully inside of you, he forces your mouth open with his thumb and spits. 

"Swallow like a good girl. You're mine. All mine," Yukhei says firmly, starting to thrust into you.

You nearly choke as you swallow, his cock filling you perfectly. One of his hands finds your waist as his lips begin to suck on your neck. You let out pleasured moans, your nails taking down his back. 

"Yukhei~" you moan, accidentally clenching on him. 

This causes him to bite you harder before looking you in the eyes. "You're doing so good for me, Y/N. You look so pretty when I fuck you good," he says. "Are you gonna cum on my cock like a good girl?" Yukhei asks, reaching a hand between your bodies to rub your clit. 

You moan louder and nod, the coil snapping once again. Your vision blackens once again, and your legs feel like jelly. You feel yourself clenching tightly around him as he continues to thrust. 

Yukhei suddenly stills and groans, a warmth filling you as he cums inside of you. He thrusts weakly a few more times, his cum going straight into your womb. You whine, sensitive now. 

Yukhei gently and sweetly kisses your lips before slowly pulling out of you. "Can you go for one more round, Baobei? I want to fill your pretty pussy with my cum." 

You nod slightly and he smirks. He kisses your lips gently once more, before attacking your neck. You whine in pain as he bites your soft flesh, and you can tell that you will be bruised. 

He gently turns you over, guiding you into the position he wanted. “Go on all fours,” Yukhei coos, helping prop you up with pillows. “Let me see you,” he coos, kissing your cheek and down  your back. 

Yukhei puts his hands on your waist, teasing your soaking core with his cock again.  You softly whimper and press back against him.

“Even as worn out you still want more? Hmm, gorgeous?” he says, his sweet words contrasted as he smacks your ass, hard. 

You yelp and nod, moaning as he slides his length into you. “So wet already,” he moans, his grip tight on your hips. 

He goes immediately into a brutal pace, leaving you a moaning mess as he chases his high. You moan loudly, crying out in pleasure as he repeatedly hits your g spot. Yukhei reaches down and rubs your clit, and soon you can tell you’re going to cum again. 

He feels you clenching around him and he slows his thrusts. “Not yet, baby girl. Not yet,” Yukhei commands you. “Keep being a good girl and wait for me.” His thrusts then get harder than before, and you know his hands will leave bruises. 

“Please?” you whine, begging him to let you orgasm as you struggled to keep it off. 

“No.” 

“Please?” you sob, tearing up as your body tenses up. 

“Not yet.”

You whine but stay quiet, your eyes screwed shut. Suddenly, your orgasm can’t be stopped as he rubs your clitorsis, and you feel and odd release. You look back at Yukhei who is grinning and groaning, stilling himself as he cums in you.

“Fuck. You just squirted,” he tells you, thrusting limply a few more times as he gently soothes your back, kissing your cheek. 

Your eyes widen in surprise and you blush, biting your lip some. Yukhei laughs at you lovingly, pulling out and watching his cum leak out of you, satisfied. 

You groan softly as he helps you roll over, feeling his sticky seed between your thighs. He disappears for a moment and returns wearing boxers, holding a shirt and a damp washcloth. 

You whine as he spreads your legs, trying to protest but too tired to speak. 

“Let me clean you, Baobei. Then I need to take you to the bathroom. You need to use the bathroom before you sleep. I don’t want you getting sick, remember?” Yukhei gently coos, cleaning you off and helping you into his shirt. 

He then picks you up bridal shower and brings you to the bathroom, patiently waiting for you outside to be done. Once over with, he takes you back to bed and cuddles with you. 

“Are you feeling okay?” he gently asks, kissing your forehead as you snuggle closer to his chest. 

“Yeah.” 

“Tired?”

“Yeah.” 

“Good.”  You slap him, knowing he was smirking playfully at you. 

When you wake up in the morning, Yukhei had already left. Two female elves or fey of some sort of humanoid form come in. They help you get out of bed, giggling to themselves when they see you. 

“What?” you ask them, and they quickly stop their giggling. 

“Nothing, your majesty,” the first one says, helping you stand.

Your steps are uncertain as they lead you towards the wardrobe, helping you stand before the mirror. They go and talk about which dress to choose, and you eye yourself in the mirror. Immediately, you notice the blooming hickeys on your neck and down your collarbone. You blush as you pull off the shirt, looking at the bruises on your body. 

“Guess I win!” You admitted “I got attacked by a dog, but like it was massive! I was running and it caught up with me out of nowhere and…”

His head popped up from behind the fridge door from where he was busy searching for sustenance.

“Wait… by a dog? How? Where?” Concern blossomed in his naturally dark eyes.

“As I WAS saying, I was running and it just caught up with me and his claw just caught my leg. It kind of backed off when I fell and ran off. Did I say it was huge! Like beaming yellow eyes too!” you placed your glass on the side behind you and leaned against the work top arms folded.

“Yeah but WHERE?” he asked curt.

Jeez he can be so cranky when he’s tired

“Erm… In Crest Park Woods” you responded ignoring his bluntness like you would assignments; also hesitant as you knew your location would likely trigger…

“I’ve told you both not to go there at night! Shit” he barked albeit quietly, huge frown announcing displeasure. He suddenly seemed agitated, almost panicky with his movements.

“Well I tell you to put the dishwasher on and you ignore me the same” you bit back defensive against his unwarranted agitation.

“Besides I’m fine, I didn’t need stitches, the doctors gave me antibiotics, stop being dramatic”

“Why did you let her go” his harsh words directed behind you. Jungkook had appeared in the living room doorway, heavy eyed and rubbing them to some form of life. His hair poofy and messy, shirtless, trackies hanging onto his hips admiring the view above.

“Hey, I can’t tell her what to do man, I was training for most of the evening, got her call when I was getting changed” even his words were sleepy.

“You know I tell you it’s not safe at night” he reiterated

“No parks or woods are safe at night in this day and age Yoongi” Kook piped up.

“Y/N please come back to bed, take the weight off your leg” he pleaded drowsy.

It was too early for this.

“Fine” you droned eyes rolling your disapproval quietly grateful to be out of this situation which you could sense was starting to sour.

“Oh you can’t tell her what to do?” You heard Yoongi jab at Jungkook as you left. As you’d expect from brothers they bickered, but they generally had a pretty solid relationship, I mean Yoongi was letting Jungkook live with him rent free while he was at Uni. He did annoyingly well for himself. Since you and Kook had been together he’d even let you more or less live there too; he was scarcely home and you’d prefer to have some privacy with your boyfriend here instead of your cramped hall room. You showed your gratitude by making sure everywhere was clean and tidy and making sure there was always enough of dinner left over for him in the freezer whenever he decided to come home.

//

“What are you…doing?” you mumbled still paralysed by sleepiness. You were half aware of Jungkook not-so slyly sliding his hands under your shirt groaning happily cupping your breasts, pushing up closer behind you, you didn’t really need to know what he was doing or wanted, you could feel it.

“Seducing you idiot” he toyed, fingertips gliding down your side, your thigh. Switching direction and coming up on your inner thigh teasing the way he knows your weak for.

“Yoongi baby” you reminded, annoyingly your room backed onto his and you struggled to be quiet sometimes. You’d faced many awkward glances with Yoongi too many mornings and you didn’t want to start again.

“He’s out” he breathed onto your skin at the back of your neck.

“He’s never out in the morning” you blurted out contesting him

“Exactly” before his lips latched onto the side of your neck dragging a gasp from your throat. You couldn’t fault his logic, your body way ahead of your thinking pushed back into him.

//

“Jesus baby how hard did you cum?” You got asked rhetorically in your state of euphoric exhaustion.

“You mean how many times?” you added chuckling within the breaths you were struggling to take. Collapsed side by side, hot messes perspiration soaked.

Sex with Jungkook was never terrible, far from it! But today everything felt amplified, everything had a surge of electric exaggerating every touch, the strength of the contractions of your muscles were on another level.

You’d never felt anything like it; your brain flooded with oxytocin, you drowned happily.

“My plan to keep you off your feet for a bit longer was a success then” he mentioned before downing the rest of his glass of water from the bedside table

“Seriously Kook I have a scratch on my leg, It’s not like it’s…” You felt the blood drain from your face, your skin went deathly cold, your body heated up from the head down simultaneously. Lurching from the bed; adrenaline making sure your muscles could carry you to the bathroom.

//

The last 5 minutes you’d touch wood not brought anything else up. Kook was still on hand, holding your hair off your face gently stroking your back. The typhoon in your stomach had mostly dissipated but you still hugged the bowl like your life depended on it.

“How you doing beautiful” he asked from behind

“Yeah I think I’m good” He took your response as a cue to release your hair and went and grabbed you some fresh bottled water from the fridge.

“Where did that come from?”

“Beats me” you sipped in delicate mouthfuls from the glass anxious to not disrupt whatever was settling your stomach.

“You don’t think?”

“What?” you answered

“We’re always careful right?” his words were hesitant as his brain scanned through every last time between you.

Shit! We’re 23 this will not be it!

Some superficial nausea returned as you too tried to remember every last time.

“Yea…h?”

The response wasn’t as confident as he wanted. You’d recently switched up contraception to the implant as your pill taking had become sketchy at best.

//

He returned from the drug store with a test and had also acquired an abundance of sweet things for you.

“Whoa where are you off to” his tone disapproving of the fact you were up and dressed lacing up your black boots.

“I told you I feel absolutely fine now” you pressed finishing the last bit of toast in your hand. You saw his frown come to fruition and you stopped any response with a kiss. Your hands caressing both his cheeks.

“I promise I’m fine. I can’t miss this lecture. You’re the absolute best. Now are you going to let me do this and then leave?” In his absence you’d pretty much convinced yourself that the pair of you had been careful and it must have been the antibiotic’s or something.

He sulked on the bar stool around the breakfast island where you’d implicitly told him to stay while you waited. His eyes were wide, worried as he stood up when you walked back into the room.

“See told you” handing him the negative test like the massive I told you so sandwich it was.

“Am I free to go now?” you teased as he tugged on your jean belt loop catching you in between his thighs.

“You’re free to go” he per-missed only after you’d kissed him and told him he was the best. Again.

Day 7

“Ugh!” you shivered, Sambuca burning horribly down your throat, your shot glass turned and slammed onto the side. Face creasing up in that Sambuca after taste disgust.

“Hey Y/N we going start cards against humanity you in?” Your friend Laura called from the centre of the living room playing a link in a chain of a circle of people from your class and a few others.

“Obviously” you called back. She’d dragged you to a house party in an attempt to help you get drunk and to forget about Jungkook for a night.

Jeon fucking Jungkook!

He’d decided to destroy your nothing but amazing year relationship by getting so blind drunk he ended his night with someone from his swim team on his dick a few days ago. He confessed straight away. You ended up in a rage filled teary mess and he just dissolved into a balling mess pleading; every apology saturated with remorse. You made damn sure you didn’t care how loud you were in Yoongi’s place. You left leaving Jungkook there completely ended with.

You were a wreck. With that wreck aside you were still a physical wreck, still suffering with sudden bouts of sickness, excruciating pain all topped off with ridiculous hornyess. You could even swear your smell and taste were better.  The Dr’s had done some tests including another pregnancy test; everything was annoyingly clear; no clinical answers in sight.

“Hey you need a drink in your hand to play” Hobi announced shoving yet another vodka and coke in your hand as you sunk to the floor cross legged next to him.

Apparently Hobi and some of the other dance majors can really fucking drink. Put your class to absolute shame!

The music was at a reasonable volume but to your ears it was pounding, your vision was fuzzy and your mind a pleasant haze. You took yourself off to the kitchen for the actual sensible purpose of grabbing yourself some water and then popping to the loo.

On your return your floor seat was by taken.

He smells so fucking good.

Jesus what’s wrong with me

“Hey, can I have my spot back” You were practically stood over him, his back towards you as you just faced the messy black hair.

Your heart beat shot up irrationally; nothing prepared for your how beautiful he was, like seriously if anyone needs a Prince Eric casting you’d found him. The dark hair did not dim the brightness of his smile nor the mischievous look in his eyes as he took ALL of you in; your scent, your simple but apparently effective attire of a tight fitting with sleeveless white top tucked into a pair of high waisted jeans. He dropped his knees fully crossing them.

“You can sit here if you like” smirking; his tongue grazing the side of his mouth and tapping his lap. A few chuckles at his quip from the circle.

“Don’t you think you should at least try that with a girl whose in your league or at least get me a drink before you ask for anything like that” you bit back bemused, sure your eyes were glimmering with insincerity. He was not out of your league, this guy was the reason leagues were created in the first place.

“Oooooohh” Hobi and few others cooed in unison. The guy’s eyebrow shot up above a smile before he chuckled and conceded

“Touche”

“Of course you can sit back here” his tone suddenly lighter, genuine.

“Seeing as you missed the introduction, Y/N Jimin, Jimin Y/N. He’s just transferred to Dance” Laura said her tone laced with a childish disgust.

“Don’t have to say it like I’m disgusting” Jimin said falling into the sofa opposite you.

“Oh I do” Laura joked.

Until the game finished you just couldn’t concentrate; Jimin’s gaze was like a black hole, absorbing your attention with no mercy. Easily dragging laughs out of you as he eventually joined in the game. You noticed the sparkle his eyes always shone when he looked at you; you could even swear there were sometimes strange yellow flecks  that danced amongst the coffee brown.

“I am done” you announced standing up, taking a second to stable your alcohol infused state.

“Yeah I think we all are” Laura agreed.

“Jimin can walk you to your room he’s going that way” Hobi pushed. Jimin and you once again got sucked into each other’s gaze. The pounding of your pulse felt deep in your stomach.

What the fuck is going on, this effect is not normal, even with how hot he is

“I think I can manage a short walk across campus”

“I am going that way, May as well, pretty company is always good”

“LAME!” Laura toyed.

“Fine, I suppose your right” underhandedly returning the compliment.

//

“So what’s your major” He idly asked

“Virology”

“OOFF, heavy” he observed.

“You are not wrong” you agreed chucking, grateful for the cool breeze to sooth your sudden increase in body temperature.

“I assume you know Hobi and Laura from Dance?”

“Yeah just like she said I just transferred, the uh dance teacher and I did not see eye to eye at my old uni”

“Dance hey”

“Something amusing?”

“From your look I wouldn’t have guessed in a million years”

“And what look is that exactly” He inquired genuinely curious.

“Well I mean leather jacket, ripped jeans, slightly baggy t-shirt, I mean I pegged you more maybe for like music or even maybe biomed”

“I mean it’s too early to introduce pegging” he toyed, mischievous.

“Ooookkkaay, like I may be drunk and we may have just played cards against humanity but we are not close enough to discuss that shit!” Hitting him in a playful manner on his arm.

How it escalated you don’t even know, you’d ended up shoved against a wall in the stairway of your dorm building; his hands grabbing everywhere they possibly could in a rough manner. It wasn’t something you were used to it but fuck could you get used to it. His mouth catching your heavy breaths, lips hungry on yours. It was like a fire had been ignited that you never knew you had. And it was with a stranger, but it felt so right. Your hands were not innocent either, oh no! You were pulling him to you in sheer desperation.

“Please tell me we’re near your room” he panted already scrabbling at the buttons of your jeans.

“Well I mean if you wouldn’t have pounced on me you’d have discovered we are really close” wasting no time in having your hands trailing his abs

“Couldn’t help myself, you just smell so good…”

Ditto!

He was shoved on your bed immediately. Leg straddling his waist; both your shirts already scattered on the bedroom floor. His hand gripped tightly in a fistful of your hair controlling the force of your kiss.

Until he stopped.

“What?”

“We shouldn’t”

What a time for a change of heart you sighed to yourself

“Serious?” mouth already pouting sitting back on your legs and his erection straining against his jeans.

“I mean god I want to” his lips were plumped up from all the attention.

“But you’re waaayyy more drunk than me and It wouldn’t be right, and I want to make you sure you remember how good I’m going to fuck you, even If I have to starve myself of this” applying pressure down your trousers feeling you over your underwear, your moan ricocheting into the room

“Fine! But don’t tease” you ordered slapping his hand away, climbing off him lying next to him in a huff.

“It’ll be worth it, I promise”

“You better make sure it is! You probably shouldn’t stay here though because there’s no way I won’t make you beg for me to fuck you if you’re here too long.” You teased.

“Ooo fighting talk huh? You’re probably right. I’ll see myself out. You can make yourself cum thinking about me though, I won’t have any objections to that”

“Well you’ll never know will you!” lip between your teeth as he flashed his smile which was so saccharine saturated you were at risk of a coma as he left.

Again in your drunk state you happily walking into a huge mistake

*knock knock*

“Y/N?”

Giving Jungkook no more time to talk about anything; you dragged him into a heated, completely lust filled kiss which he accepted no questions asked. He was pushed onto the sofa; him forced underneath you.

“Yoongi… could be home… any minute” he managed in between the assault on his lips.

“Shut up” you demanded tugging at his shirt, a desperate plea grinding on his crotch. He returned in kind ridding you of your pyjama top. Putting you underneath him on the sofa, leather cool against your skin. Yanking your trackies on the floor before chucking off his. You tugged on his long hair; wanting to avoid the pain he followed the direction of your pull gaining leverage over him enabling you to be on top again. His cock pressed against your folds

“Wait don’t you… want warmi…” hands resting at your side fingertips gently indenting your skin, hair half covering his eyes.

“Nope” you interrupted sinking down onto him cutting off any more words, replacing them with breathy moans.

“Fuck” he breathed rolling his head back. He always absolutely loved when you used him just to get off.

Your hips rocking rough, desperately seeking the relief you needed. Hand gripping to his chest enjoying the muscles beneath your fingertips rippling. You started clenching around him still dragging yourself closer.

“Jesus if you keep doing that I’m not going to last much longer” he whined. Knowing your body and the lack of clit stimulation was hindering your orgasm he tried to help. You swatted his hand away. He was delusional if he thought he deserved that. Pinning his hands above his head he got the message. The visual stimulation of you circling hurriedly on your clit had his eyes rolling up, fists clenching. As always he managed to hold off until your muscles starting convulsing around him before falling hard into his own release.

Apparently once wasn’t enough for you, easily going another couple of times before completely crashing in his bed. Another mistake.

Day 8

You woke up alone.

Thank god

There was however a note

-Let’s talk when I’m back - JK

How about no, he could go away for the week coming back to nothing!

You scrunched it up, feeling a slight pang of guilt for giving him hope.

Mouth dry, you headed to the kitchen

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to see you here again” Yoongi admitted slouching around the breakfast bar with a bowl of cereal.

Thank god I put on a shirt

You rolled your eyes.

“Please don’t, apparently alcohol causes me to make massive mistakes” you blurted out.

“Sorry he’s your brother” you added

“Its fine, we’ve all been there and he’s not exactly in my good books. I’ve give him hell don’t worry. He’s been a mess all week”

“Good!”

Excruciating pain spiked through your stomach rippling out to your chest. You doubled over in pain. Yoongi rushed over to support you, firm hand gripping at your waist and arm

“Im fine, I’m fine” ushering him away as the moment passed. More dreading what was next, the nausea and sickness.

“Here drink this” Yoongi handed you a homemade looking drink in a glass bottle. The army green liquid was lumpy and the thought of it anywhere near your mouth increased your nausea ten fold

“I feel sick already, definitely not” sipping the water that Yoongi had also sweetly provided.

“I’m serious it will take the nausea away in a heartbeat, just a mouthful, trust me it’s an old recipe of my grams” One eyebrow considerably higher, you gingerly took the bottle and unscrewed the cap. Opting not to even dare sniff it pinching your nose and swallowing; face scrunching shaking your head. For good measure you chugged the rest of your water and still held your nose for the taste to completely pass.

Boy wasn’t lying

“I am not even going to ask what’s in that but Jesus it worked”

“Probably best you don’t, and you’re welcome” he beamed.

“Well I guess I better get out here I got some serious revision to be getting on with”

Day 15

It was 1am, you were staring blankly at your work books, black lines of font all blurring into a mess in front of you. Your eyes rolled as you found your coffee cup empty. You were in a student café which had the genius idea of opening weirdly unsociable hours for all those late night crammers. You frequented this place a lot. The super comfy sofa area often had groups trying to cram together, people dozing from too much reading. You always took your refuge at a table, always sat facing one of the windows, you found the orange hue from the streetlight calming and not having to make eye contact with anyone else in the café suited you right down to the ground.

You’d found a small piece of paper in your jacket that Jimin had slyly slipped in the pocket a few days ago, you’d completely procrastinated texting the number. Not trusting yourself with how you’d act if your meeting again was anything like the last. Not that you didn’t want it.

Thinking about him apparently had the memory of his scent which now flooded your sense. Out of nowhere a coffee cup appeared beside you briefly masking the smell. You removed your headphones and turned to the source of the coffee giver.

The smell was not from memory.

“Latte with an extra shot” he announced

“I asked the server what you had before” he mentioned in response to the perplexed look primed his way.

“Umm, hi, thanks” he helped himself to a seat opposite, mere moments into your interaction the hunger was already festering.

“Not gonna lie I’ve been waiting for your text like an impatient child” he confessed stroking the side of his cup, looking down avoiding the eye contact.

“Sorry, I’ve just been swamped and I may have been staring at your number desperate to text but I didn’t know what to say”

“How about, hey, fancy meeting up to finish what we started” he joked, you closed your books attention drawn completely to him

“Oh you’re putting that straight out there then” feeling the flush of blood rushing to your cheeks, his shoulders shrugged, devilish smile returning

“If you don’t ask you don’t get. I would have happily responded to that”

“Well I mean normally I’d say buy a girl a drink first but I guess you’ve just ticked that box”

“Exactly”

Your walk to the halls was longer than normal. Under the cover of the poorly lit areas of the campus the pair of you hungrily shoved each other against trees grasping everywhere lips barely parting. You suspected your back was at best grazed.

“I don’t…even know why you do…this to me, I hardly know you” you panted slamming your door shut with Jimins body hard against it.

“Fuck knows but I feel it too” In a brief moment you was apart his eyes scanned you before literally tearing your shirt off buttons popping everywhere.

How strong is he? That’s like a movie thing

Your bra was unclipped with one hand before it joined your shirt.

He’s got moves, give him that

He picked you up from under your behind, legs wrapping round his waist. Your turn to be shoved against the door. Your back was definitely grazed, the pleasant sting confirmed this.

Your neck, collar bone was plastered with blossoming red marks. He even sunk his teeth in at the curve of your neck.

“Enough foreplay” you breathed. He chuckled through a growl which went straight to your core.

“Impatient” he stated a smirk growing wide bunching his cheeks up.

“Can’t wait to test that”

“My dorm mate is away tonight” the pair of you cocking your eyebrows. He set you down, backing you up until you knocked into the table, tugging his white v-n off, fingertips digging into his sides pressing him flush against you. He came willingly. Taking one of his hands you guided him under you the waistband of your unbuttoned jeans. Gasping finally having the contact against your folds.

“Want me much?” in response to how wet you were. You just dragged him into a kiss.

“Can’t have you waiting that desperately for me can I”

“Please don’t make me” you whined as he rushed to have you step out of jeans and underwear.

“You’re beautiful you know that” he exhaled drinking you all in. You were pushed hard half on the table, perching as he dropped to his knees.

Unbeknown to you he could smell your arousal the instant it started pooling. It completely intoxicated him like nothing before.

A deep growl escaped his throat nipping at the inside of your thigh. As weird as it was to hear such an animalistic growl you’d be lying if it wasn’t sexy as fuck.

He teased, lips going everywhere it wasn’t throbbing. He sensed your frustration from a mile off.

“Say please!” he ordered, smirk felt against your thigh.

“Fuck…Jimin PLEASE!” you begged. Hand flying straight to tangle in his hair. He sucked at your bud answering your plea with warm harsh flicks of his tongue.

“Want more?” Warm breathe fanning at your core.

“Mmmhmm” was you all you managed with your head rolled back. He granted your wish thrusting two fingers inside and going back with his tongue flat licking wide stripes.

“Don’t stop” you whined, feeling your leg muscles tighten. He granted your again as he sped up quickly pushing you over the edge pulling even tighter on his hair. Satisfied accomplished smirk was graced him.

“Don’t think I’m finished with you” he forewarned. Pulling you off the desk spinning you round, bending you over kicking you ankles apart. The light clinking of his belt causing a surge of excited anticipation which was delayed a few seconds by him putting on the condom. Slicking himself with your arousal before sinking into you.

“You feel just as good as you taste” he moaned before his hips began bucking into you. You turned to respond but you was met with him in a harsh movement turning your head to the front wrapping his fists in your hair tugging you harder on him. You settled digging your finger into the outside of his thigh.

“Jesus Jimin” you wailed. Jungkook was rarely rough with you and only know you realised how much you’d missed it.

“Too hard?” he asked slowing down pulling nearly all the way out teasing at your entrance awaiting further instruction.

“Fuck no” you cried, he slammed back into you; your free hand balling up into a fist. His free hand made its way round your waist. You went and met his hand, allowing you to take the lead his hand resting on yours gliding him in between your legs.

Boy gotta know how you like it!

“Ready to cum yet” he grunted, noticing how jerky his hips were going; he definitely was. The sleek words at your ear selectively just heard ‘cum’.  You did what you thought he’d just told you.

“Jesus how tight do you wanna go” he spluttered as he came. He left you panting slumped on the table while he went to the bin. Managing to stand he pulled you into a kiss hands at your cheeks, soft against your flushed hot face.

“Give me ten minutes and we’re going again” he said almost in a whisper.

“You have five and I’ll damn make sure you’ll be begging me to let you cum this time”

Day 16

You stirred, rolling onto Jimin’s chest, which for a moment threw you. It was nice, his natural scent a comfort when combined with the soft contact of his skin. It also provided more than comfort, currently a chimera of comfort and also a ridiculous turn on for no reason whatsoever.

Christ, It likes I’m on heat or something

Safe to say you was now awake. His arm weakly fell round your waist, still in a sleepy daze. Taking your time, creeping your fingertips stepping lightly down his chest, his stomach finally ghosting up his thighs. His thighs were actual masterpieces of tone and muscle you’d be graced with.

The grip on your hips increased slightly when your hand wrapped around his cock

“Mmm morning to you too” he mumbled shifting to be more flat on his back. Biting your lip through glazed over eyes you started moving your hand. As he grew in your hand and his eyes finally opened dragged awake by your movements and you grinding light circles against him.

“That’s so good” still in a sleepy mumble. When you stopped he let out a whiny exhale and you shrunk down in between his legs.

“Will this be better?” you teased licking a stripe at his tip.

“I think you should show me it is”

//

“I think we should play a game” you suggested lifting your mouth from him after not letting him cum three times.

“You’re torturing me already” he panted. Your arm mopped up any saliva that had accumulated round your mouth as you sat up. You abandoned him in favour of bringing some toys for you to play with.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No” he agreed, chirping your shoulders up you lined him up at your entrance and slowly sunk down. In a natural move his hands went to your hips. You allowed this. When his hips bucked up into you. You did not allow this.

“You are not doing that” you ordered tightening your thighs at his waist

“What?” he breathed, face like it’s the most ridiculous cruel thing he’s ever heard; rolling your hips savouring how he felt inside you

“You are not to move. At ALL!”

“You are going to lay there and not move while I make myself cum 3 times on you”

“You can do that?”

“Yep, you do not buck your hips and you do not cum understand. Then I promise you can have me how you want” One thing about being with Jungkook. His stamina was ridiculous and he damn sure trained you well. You rocked your hips.

“What a reward!” he breathed your movement catching him off guard.

“Hope you like be…..”

You clenched around him in response. Grabbing the first of your selected toys; your bullet. He was way more vocal than JK and it was amazing. It was beautifully soft considering also melodic, his laboured breathes in between really hit as his head rolled back. His fists twirled in the sheets beside you pouring every ounce of will against his want fuck you.

“You’re doing so well” you panted, heat flowing across all of your skin enduring the aftershocks of your second orgasm. Your leg muscles growing tired from the constant tensing, your nails had left small red half crescents in a pretty field on his chest.

“I’ll treat you just a bit” Offering him the remote of your wand vibrator.

“I don’t think I can concentrate to operate that and not to move” he whined.

“You damn well better try you” You whined curtly kissing him in a desperate hurry. Considerately he put it on the lowest setting first, this time you would definitely need to move. So you did rocking your hips back of forth careful not to move up and down; judging from Jimin’s moans he wouldn’t be able to last with that kind of motion.

“Je…sus this is so hard” he panted, knocking the speed up to full, the area of the wand reaching more than just your clit; vibrations radiating out to the spring in your core on which were near breaking point.

“Ahh almost…there” hands firmly griping his shoulders, his face leaking frustrated concentration.

“Please cum baby” the plea came in a sweet desperate moan. His words moaned like a sexy mantra sent you over the edge; crying out even louder when he pushed up into you once in a hard thrust.

//

“You know you’re the first person I’ve ever even partially submitted to” Jimin was sprawled out your bed catching his breath with you equally sprawled next to him

“Yeah? How come”

“I like to be in control, but with you I don’t know, it just feels different, like I want to do anything with you as long as it gets me against you”

“Well I’ll take that as compliment” you preened.

“How in control do you like to be?”

“Oh you’re going to find out” he warned

“Now who’s got fighting talk?”

Seemingly fully recovered like nothing has happened, he clambered onto of you. Your hands pinned above your head.

“Now you said I could do what I wanted with you” any hint of the soft adorable voice had gone, fire ravaging behind his eyes.

“I did” eyes scanning his body smirk growing across your face.

“Well you’re not leaving this room until I’m done with you, if anything gets too much tell me, if you like something in a different way tell me. Okay?” his head nuzzled in your neck taking in your scent, noticing the shift in your heart rate. You nodded also swearing you could even hear his racing pulse.

“You’re so beautiful, it just blows my mind” he breathes angling straight for your neck.

//

You napped until noon, but was it even a nap if you’d been completely fucked half into a coma?

Your body was wrecked. You felt bruised in the best way possible, red flowers had bloomed all over your body. Each one a sweet token of how good his mouth felt on you. But right now you wasn’t bothered about how exhausted your body felt, pain suddenly ravaged your senses to beyond caring.

“I’m fine” you wailed, tears trickling down your cheeks. The pain had now moved from your stomach to what felt like everywhere.

“Jesus Y/N you are not fine!” He argued, hand gently stroking your back as you were curled into as much of a fetal position as you could.

“Just give it a minute” you pleaded.

“It will go away”

You hated he hated to see you like that so feeble and helpless. The pain passed as you’d accurately predicted.

“Can I take you somewhere?” He asked, you wasn’t going to say no to the gooey chocolate of his eyes, hair draping lush over his forehead.

Opting for some loose ripped boyfriend jeans and a grey hoody pulled up shrouding as much of you as you humanly possible. The pair of you walked off campus; hand in hand. His hand took ownership of yours the second you’d locked your door, and how beat you were you were not going to refuse any sort of comfort.

You’d stopped caring about the potential of Jungkook seeing you as it had already happened. You’d had the messages begging first. They quickly turned into downright anger at you moving on so quickly. He even had the audacity to accuse you of already seeing Jimin behind his back. You made sure you told him where to stick any contact with you in the future.

You walked down a familiar street. Emerald green leaves adorning the trees in a row either side of the newly re-laid road.

Where are we going?

Just as you were about to pass Yoongi’s place, Jimin directed you down his path.

Now I’m lost

“Uhh Jimin wha…” His door was already knocked. Yoongi of course answered. Nothing but bafflement burnt onto your face as his face came into view. Yoongi’s face grew equally confused.

“Yoongi you gotta tell her for god’s sake, she needs to know” Jimin was stern, taking no no’s for an answer as he ushered you inside passed Yoongi who had no words as Jimin near enough barged passed.

“Tell me what? What’s going on?” Your voice raised amongst the confusion

These guys know each other?

 you stood arms crossed, eyebrows together leaning on the breakfast bar. The boys looked at each far too sheepishly, wordlessly communicating.

“You might wanna sit down”

“Yoongi seriously just tell me what’s going on” Jimin looked at you before looking down, a deep sorrow had started to diffuse of his aura, it turned your stomach.

What on earth

//

Legs carrying you and your exponential rage out of the house. Your eyes felt puffy even though the tears had yet to leave your eyes. Apparently rage causing them to evaporate.

“Leave me alone” Now the tears started as you shunned Jimin who was trying to hurry behind you.

A werewolf, a fucking werewolf!

Your thoughts had fused, overloaded with unbelievable information. Yoongi and Jimin confessed to apparently being werewolves, apparently Yoongi was the alpha of the so called little pack of people who are apparently also students.

“Are you all on crack?” you had exerted. Your refusal to believe what they were saying left them no other choice than to shift in front of you. You froze, two majestic huge wolves in front of you, Yoongi larger than Jimin. They were both black furred for the most part; Jimin’s wolf had a white diamond under his neck, breaking up the darkness. Before your brain could process the ridiculous sight you’d witnessed they’d changed back…naked! Thankfully they were behind the island.  They told you the dog that scratched you was a werewolf and all the pain and issues were due to you turning and your body preparing for the first full moon.

“Y/N slow down!” Jimin pleaded. You ignored him.

And on top of all that, Yoongi admitted that as soon as he realised he sent Jimin in your path to keep an eye on you and make sure you was okay. The betrayal from both these boys was painful you couldn’t decide if you wanted to slap them both or not.

“No, what makes you even think you can come with me? Everything was a lie” you spat.

“No it wasn’t” He defended

“You heard Yoongi when he’d smelt we’d slept together, he scolded the shit out of shit me! Surely that proves that wasn’t what I was told” You’d stopped stomping away, his eyes were glistening under the moisture collecting in them

He was right, but none the less you were still furious at him and at Yoongi. You had about two weeks to get your head round this shit before you had to shift. On full moons werewolves have to turn, no choice whatsoever. After your first transition you can then elect to turn into a wolf at will at any other time of the month…apparently.

“Well why did you do it then, if Yoongi had told you specifically not to then?” He tried to bridge the gap between you, offering you hand. All he got in response with a glare.

“I just couldn’t help it, you’re just incredible!.

We couldn’t help it! You corrected in your head

“I think we’re essences” You met his comment with a blank look, arms folded waiting for an explanation.

“It’s like an animaly thing” he explained

“It’s pheromones, but werewolf specific ones. It’s not super common really, when two werewolves have pheromones that … bounce off each other I guess, It amplifies attraction exponentially. Hence why we literally can’t help it, our primal senses are essentially pulling us together” Your shoulders dropped, arms unfolded and went to your hips. His face contorted in apology.

“So what you’re saying is this” you waved to the pair of you back and forth

“Is made up and chemical?” shrouding your disappointed from your tone. He eyes widening, filling with panic

“What? No no, I mean well kinda. For the whole matching pheromone thing to actually work and kind of activate there has to be an attraction already. So it just kind of amplifies It I guess? Yoongi tried to explain it to me once and I was way to out of it to take it all in”

You couldn’t bare the pained expression which was slowly spreading on his face, this guy was a good one despite how much right now you wish he wasn’t

You’d calmed enough to accept Jimin as you allowed yourself into the pull of the embrace. Now the tears fell, down your cheeks and onto his shoulder. You nudged your head into his neck and let the rage filter out until there were just sobs of fear and overwhelm. One hand stroking the back of your neck, the holding firm at your lower back. His scent tranquil, steadying your panicking system, slowing down your manic mind.

“Am I going to be okay?” you sobbed, bleary eyed looking for his for comfort again and again.

His smile was relieved if it was anything and leaned back away from you slightly, sweeping the strands of hair from your face.

“Of course, you’re with us now. We won’t let anything bad happen to you. We look out for our own”

“What if I hurt somebody? Will I remember? I don’t want to hurt anyone”

“You won’t, not with us. On full moons we remember very little it’s more like a red mist clouds your mind” You panicked

Not helping!

“But…Yoongi is a good alpha and makes sure that we are all secure and can’t get out and hurt anyone. When we turn, when we chose to we remember and have full control of ourselves it’s just the one night”

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

“To be honest he should have but I think he was just in denial and upset about it seeing as you were friends” You both started walking together in the direction of your halls, even in the state you was and as angry as you were you still wanted him with you.

“Wait is JK a…?” the words flooded out

“No no, he has no idea either and that’s how Yoongi wants it”

“So who turned me then? It must have been one of you guys right?” he stopped, hesitant, collecting his words before continuing his delicate steps.

“No… It was another wolf from another pack” The pair of you finally reached the park, the other side was the campus and your bed! You took his hand earning a small relieved smile.

“Why say it like that?”

“They’re kind of dicks, and they certainly don’t have any care in the world about chaining themselves up or hurting people”

“Oh… I won’t turn out like that though will I?” this time you were the one that stopped walking.

“No” he chuckled.

“I’m sure they were assholes before they were turned, it’s just that it’s a bit risky our pack taking you in as our own”

“Oh?”

“It’s just a weird pack thing, essentially we’ve nicked one of their babies and that generally is frowned upon even in the wolf world”

“But they just attacked and left me?” You could feel a lump form in your throat, now feeling like a huge burden.

“I know, I know this is where the whole they are a group of dicks comes into it. Please don’t worry about it, that’s for Yoongi to deal with not you. They probably don’t even know what happened that night. Come on let’s get you home” His hand escaped yours and pulled you close to him, arm draped over your shoulder.

“Can you stay?” you asked with a weak saccharine smile.

“If you promise to not cry again tonight” he offered.

“I think I can manage that”

 Day 28 – Day of the full moon.

Your concentration was non-existent in your first lecture, your insides felt like they were crawling; a constant itch that couldn’t be scratched. You were irritable as fuck. You didn’t make it to your second lecture. You were opting for your room with closed curtains, imagining the quiet solitude on your way from campus. The quiet of your thoughts were quickly consumed by the smell which certainly never meant any quiet.

“Are you stalking me now Mr Park?” You turned knowing from the strength of the scent exactly where he was. Sweat covered, dark hair clinging to his forehead. The glistening muscles hidden poorly by the loose low vest top, you could even make out his v lines sat above his shorts through his damp shirt. His hands trailed through his hair pushing it back off of his forehead.

“No” he denied out of breath

“I knew what time your lecture finished and so timed my run around it” he explained.

“So you timed your run so you could see me come out of my lecture? Sounds like stalking to me”

He responded with a strong punch to your arm.

“Would you rather have someone else stalk you?” he queried hooking one arm over your shoulder, one of your hands held onto that hand and as you both walked together in perfect sync.

“And I came because I want to know how you are? Full moon day is never a good day, especially when it’s your first”

“I’m going insane, feels like I’ve got all this energy, my skins crawling. The smallest thing agitates the fuck out of me” He squeezed your hand noticeably harder.

“Why do you think the rest of us do nothing, I can’t believe you didn’t listen to me and went to class in the first place. Want my advice?” You stared back at him knowing full well he was going to give it to you anyway.

“Running, It takes the edge off trust me” resolute in his words.

“I hate running, I’m not fit enough” you complained.

“Well have you tried since you were bitten? You’ll have incredible stamina now and you’ll probably enjoy it”

“I think I’ll pass today, I’m feeling way too irritated for that. What time do we have to meet the others?”

“Half six so we’ve got a few hours, don’t panic. In fact I think there’s a few things we could do that might help relax you” You didn’t need to ask what they were. He’d pushed you up against a tree, lips dancing heated with yours, his hands already tugging your blouse out of waistband in pursuit of skin. With him nuzzled at you neck kissing and nipping at your favourite points earning him gasps from your lips. Your eyes nervously scanning the park around you. The path you’d just been pushed off was under two rows of high trees in bright green bloom. No one was around. Every touch of his lips or his skin on yours was more electric than normal, every sensation amplified; the pool of warmth between your legs desperately having your core already gagging for attention.

“Jimin…please…take me home” you whined, you needed him so fucking bad. He groaned at your neck coming up to meet your gaze, the animalistic yellow flakes burning hot around the coffee brown circles.

“Your body is telling me you want me now” a surprised squeal and moan flew past your lips as his hand had flew up underneath your denim skirt and circled at your already engorged bud as well as gliding his hands through your arousal. You grabbed his wrist to stop him, pulse surging with a chimera of fear and pleasure.

“No one’s here” he reassured

“And I’ll hear if anyone’s coming. Remember, super hearing!” he doubly reassured. You too had the enhanced hearing and apparently you were not used to using it to your advantage. Your grip on his wrist faltered opting instead to hurriedly to grip at his shirt, refusing him to be anywhere but against you. The rays of the afternoon sun were bleeding in through the gaps in through the trees, illuminating just how exposed you really were. It was exciting.

“I had no idea you were so filthy” the words were breathed so close to your lips, his finger teasing at your entrance thumb gently swiping at your clit.

“Shut up!” you snapped

“Just fuck me already” you ordered, your hands aiming for his member underneath his shorts. He stopped you. Instead dropping to the floor ghosting his hands up either side of your leg, your eyes hungry, fixed on the devil smirk that wasn’t in his lip bite. Your hands interlinked behind your neck growing more warm.

Hitching up your skirt only to pull your red lace thong down getting ruffled in the bark at your feet.

“You’re seriously not going to go down on me in a park”

“Am I not?” Eyes glistening with satisfaction, the smell of your arousal clouding every bit of judgement he had. His eyes were quickly filling with unbridled lust. You didn’t even get a chance to reply, leg hitched over his shoulder. Your head rolled back into the tree

“Ow! Uhh!”  Jimins mouth attached to you licking your folds stopped and gazed up at you as you rubbed your head where it stung.

“You okay?” his chin already glistening.

“Yeah, please…carry on” he chuckled and planted his face back in between your thighs. One hand secured to your hips the other etching dangerously closer your entrance. One of your hands was failing to grip across the rough bark, the other tangled in his hair.

//

“You better cum for me again baby” Jimin urged gently placing your leg back to the ground. He grabbed your chin forcing you into a kiss, not caring you could taste your own cum on his lips.

“What here?” the panic seeping back into the bottom of your stomach scraping more at the fear of being so open and exposed.. He paused eyes looking left utilising his enhanced hearing, checking for any approaching people..

“What? You’ve already just done it once. We better be quick” shoving you around and your chest into the tree. He yanked your hips back; kicked your legs apart already taking himself out of his shorts.

“Don’t think that will be a… uughh” Jimin easily pressed into you

“Problem”

“Good…fuck I’ll never get bored of how good you feel” he praised commencing the bucking of his hips. His hands slid and trickled up your arms to cup around your balled up fists; hips thrusting stronger reaching that velvet patch inside you. You un-clenched your fist allowing your fingers to cross with his.

“You better cum quick beautiful someone’s coming” he stuttered in your ear. Oddly, the heightened risk of your exposure had you clenching around him

“Pleeaasee… keep doing that” he pleaded with desperation against your neck. The conscious intermittent tensing of your core had the muscles holding more pleasure each time.

Desperate relieved climaxes ravaged the pair of you; he left no time for you to enjoy the come down leaving you. Apparently there was no time to recover your underwear from the floor as he sorted himself out. You swept your hair hurriedly over your right shoulder; Jimin lost control and managed to clamp his mouth down hard at where your shoulder and neck met. It being ‘that’ time of the month his teeth were sharper; you’d been left with a nearly full mouth bite on your skin, tiny dots of blood had started emerging through bits of the red mark

“It’s not enough is it” he asked in breathy recovery.

“No” annoyed at the satisfaction that you was yet to feel. Hungry smirk on his face, his normal coffee coloured eyes melted into a boiling swirl of chocolate.

“Welcome to full moon day” he grabbed your hand and started walking with you; leaves and twigs crinkling under you. A person entered the woodland tree cove glancing your way mildly puzzled why you weren’t walking on the path.

“I’ll be fucking you again before my cum’s even finished leaking out of you” As sexy as his words were it was going to be an uncomfortable rushed walk to your dorm.

//

Apparently he didn’t want to wait the distance to your dorm so he directed you to his. His living space passed you in a flash before you shoved him onto his bed; he stripped himself as you went to his bottom draw.

“Will this be enough?” enquiring holding the short handled flogger and pinwheel in your hand.

“Better see if it is” he challenged. You rushed off your clothes in an impatient flurry

“Please ….” His impatiently fuelled whine escaped as you straddled him. Your needs mirrored his but you was slightly in more control this time round.

“I’m not ready yet “you lied, and he knew it.

His chest blooming red in strips where the leather had struck.

“Harder” you granted his request putting more weight into the pin wheel on his chest, pricks of blood bubbling up from the tiny holes.

You couldn’t explain it, everything you felt was intensified today, yet you feel you needed to max out your tolerance which was apparently infinite today. You assumed it was the same for him. The throbbing in between your legs became unbearable, a screaming siren refusing to be silenced.

“How about now, I’m begging you”

“Is that really begging though? I can’t even tell how much I need to hear you whine for me. I need to feel you so bad. Maybe I should just get myself off to watch you squirm” you rocked your hips so his member could feel just how bad.

“Noooo, I can’t, come on that’s not fair, you’re feeling what I’m feeling right now. Please let me fuck you, I want you shouting my name, I want your muscles to ache, I need you quivering around me while I fill you up”

“Mmmm much better” kissing him harshly while you let him flip you on your back.

“I’ve never wanted to beg for anyone before, you’re just on another level”

“I’ve never let anyone have control before, you’re just too intoxicat…” The pleasure of him pushing into your shocked your system, you’d never felt anything like it, you were almost worried how much your climax was going to ruin you. If it was going to be like this every full moon the fact your life had been turned on its head it was worth it and you’d even look forward to it.

“Jesus, I’m going to be waiting for the full moon so much, this is incredible” his head dropped. The dark hair hanging shading his face as he needed a moment.

I swear he’s reading my mind

“I’ve got to go slow otherwise I might explode” he breathed in between a sloppy kiss at your mouth

“Agreed” his hips rocked in even bucks leaving him fully inside you for a perfect second before painfully slowly leaving you; tip hovering at your entrance. The slow build up was blissfully exhausting. Muscles already struggling to hold the tension. His chest flush to you; a thin layer moisture starting to permeate from the contact; him being overwhelmed rendering his arms incapable of supporting. All of his energy focused onto not losing control. His palm spreading across the bottom of your cheek and neck. The only support he could manage was on his forearm pushing into the mattress. Head nuzzled in your neck; he couldn’t get enough of your scent. Every time you fucked, his head already gets drawn there; like a bee to the most delicious pollen.

Fingertips digging into his lower waist; a wasted attempt at diffusing the painful tension building in your core.

Out of nowhere his hips stuttered, teeth latching onto your already sore neck. You didn’t think you were ready but the deepness of his moan; so deep and melodic sent you spiralling over the edge. Your climax ravaged your system for what felt like ages; to the point you couldn’t take it. Like you had a choice at this point; your spasming muscles swept your body into a tsunami of feeling; washing all strength from you.

What weight wasn’t on you was now dropped onto you. Heavy pants permeated into the room.

With him still inside you and the pressure against your clit was feeding your aftershocks; you knew he’d picked up on this when he’d starting moving in gentle circles. The sensitivity was too much!

“Alright! No more please” you pleaded, he obliged rolling over next to you exhaling a chuckle

“Well that was… intense” you finally managed.

“I can’t even right now, I’ve never experienced something so damn euphoric” You knew it was mostly down to you being essences or whatever but you still took it as compliment for the sake of your ego.

“Shit!” you exclaimed when you clocked the time on your phone. Shooting out of bed rummaging everywhere retrieving your clothes. Jimin equally panic stricken, the last thing he wanted for your first change was to not be in a secure environment. You wouldn’t cope with not knowing if you’d hurt anything or anybody.

Your legs ached and burned by the time you’d power walked to Yoongi’s second house, yes second!

The basement was a hive of activity. You’d been shocked to learn Hoseok and Laura were also of the wolfy nature. It did kind of baffle you how a dance and Virology major became such good friends.  All of the guys had welcomed you and bonded to you as one of their own. Yoongi’s shoulders relaxed when his eyes finally reached you.

“You guys reek of sex” You was unsure if this was a casual scold or an amused statement, his stoic face gave nothing away. The others chuckled

At least they have a filter to not say anything, avoiding you the awkwardness of the blood rushing to your cheeks. The clank of the metal gates rattled through your sensitive ears as they were shut. Each caged now occupied by a person slowly undressing.

“It saves the clothes” Jimin explained without prompting; he was shoving the bag with your clean stuff into a metal grey cabinet at the far end of the cage. Any oxytocin racing your system was purged and replaced regretfully with adrenaline. Your heart rate raced with fear slowly filling your eyes.

“You’ll be fine Y/N” Hoseok called.

“It will be morning before you know it” Yoongi added placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You leapt into his arms and squeezed him tight; when you felt a squeeze back he pulled back.

“Go on” he prompted.

“You’ll be with Jimin, you’’ll be fine, he’s probably the sweetest natured out of all of us” You offered a weak smile, any confidence drained. Jimin took your hand and lead you into your confinement. He shut the door reaching through the bars and turned the key and left it in the lock.

“Shouldn’t we take it out?”

“Wolves don’t tend to have thumbs, we’ll be secure I promise” He tried to keep his response as sincere as possible but a definite smirk leaked through; corrupting his lips.

“Hey I’m new to this!” you complained. He motioned his fingers beckoning you to him, you really wanted to pout and refuse but your body beat you to it carrying you to him. His hand sloped at your cheeks

“I know, I’m sorry. Do you want me to chain you up?”

“I got it” you confirmed slipping out of your jeans and jumper. Your eyes were scatty, no one but Jimin could see you exposed but being in such an open space still made you slightly uncomfortable. The nippy draught instantly dragged goose-bumps onto your skin; covering you.

“Wish you were chained up under better circumstances” He clinked the heavy shackles shut round his ankles, he sat knees up leaning against the wall in nothing but his boxers staring up at the ceiling.

“Wish you realised when to be more appropriate” You teased back, not fully against the idea he suggested.

“You’d hate that”

“I suppose that’s true” you confessed sliding down to the floor in your underwear

“You’ll lose them” he pointed directly at you, you followed his finger direction as best you could; assuming he meant your underwear.

“I’d rather lose one set a month than sit in cage completely naked”

He held his hand up in defeat agreeing with you.

“What happens now?”

“We just wait, you’ll probably turn first seeing as you…”

Min Yoongi doesn't like change. Change makes him anxious, it always has, even before....well....before.

He feels his chest tightening nonetheless when you view the house, eyes wide and bright, surveying his bedroom like you're imagining all your stuff in there.

Yoongi hates you on sight. You must have drifted through life, being that pretty, with a bright smile.

People make him more anxious than change, and a beautiful girl in his space? Standing in the living room, inches from where he'd taken his last breath?

It felt oddly intimate.

Imagine being anxious when you have no heartbeat to speed up, no breath to get short.

The movers start bringing your things in before you know it and he sulks, pushing over boxes marked fragile, laughing when it's blamed on one of the younger movers.

Yoongi doesn't particularly like to scare people, but it's easy. Just a few toppled boxes and the movers rush out of the house, and he can't help but smirk as you struggle to bring everything in yourself.

The first night, you curl up on the couch with a book and he watches you for a couple of hours, the line of your jaw, how long your legs look, and he's angry at himself for looking.

He's more angry at the way he wishes he could wrap a hand around your ankle, brush the hair back from your face.

He's the most angry for suddenly feeling lonely after god knows how many years of shuffling around the house, content in his solitude.

So he makes the lights flicker, and when you get up to check the breaker, he hides your book down in the couch cushions.

You're frowning as you look for it, and how does he feel his heart speed up when it isn't even fucking beating?

It's weeks of this, of him toppling over your drinks, hiding your books, flipping the breakers, slamming doors, doing everything he knows has worked in the past, but you're unbothered. You're...fearless.

He's never appeared to anyone before, never even known that he could, and when he appears to you, it's completely by accident.

Yoongi doesn't watch you shower, he's never been that kind of guy, but he can't help how his eyes catch the curve of your ass when you walk around in a men's t-shirt and panties, can't help wondering whose shirt you're sleeping in.

His throat tightens when you go up to the attic and find the box he'd left there, full of his clothes and books, and part of him hopes you throw it away, but when you don't, when you squeal in surprise at some of the books, gently fingering the pages, it's his chest that tightens.

The night you end up seeing him, just for a moment, you'd washed the box of his shirts and you were wearing one of them, a black one, with the bottom knotted to show your stomach and a pair of black panties, dancing around in the kitchen, making popcorn.

He feels his lips curling in a smile, watching you, and he wonders how long it's been since he's smiled.

Yoongi finds himself crouched behind you as you lie on the couch, reading over your shoulder, that night, and he tells himself that it's because he's bored and not because he likes the way your shampoo smells, likes the view of your legs stretched out on the couch.

It’s almost 3am, and he kind of likes that you’re an insomniac, because he had been once, when he was alive, and he tries not to think about why that pleases him so much.

You huff out a breath, frustrated suddenly, and he stands to come around and see your face, frowning down at you.

You slide your hand down what used to be his shirt, slip a thumb beneath the waistband of your panties, and if Yoongi had still had lungs, he would have surely stopped breathing.

When you slide your hand further down, slipping beneath your panties, fingers finding your core, he crouches down again, watching your face. Your eyes are squeezed shut.

He hadn't even known that his anatomy still worked this way, that he could still get this hard, that his heart could thud against his chest, hands aching to touch you.

You hitch in a frustrated breath and your eyes pop open, widening a bit, and Yoongi realizes you can see him.

***

You don't commonly fantasize about anyone in particular when you touch yourself, and you've been single for so long you don't even conjure up past experiences anymore.

So when you can't quite get there, alone on your couch, you're shocked to open your eyes and see a pair of hungry brown eyes, a man crouched down in front of you, black locks falling over his face.

He's gone just as your breath catches, as heat floods through you.

That night, when you dream, it's of those hungry brown eyes and pouty lips, how his tongue flicked out to the corner of his mouth.

He seems familiar, and you wonder if it's someone you'd seen in passing, someone you'd been attracted to.

It isn't until days later that you go through that box you'd found in the attack and that one Polaroid of the same man, except this time with a gummy smile, eyes softer, that you realize that all the flickering lights and lost books weren't just your imagination after all.

It doesn't even occur to you to be scared, you've grown up seeing things that other's couldn't, believing in things like the tarot and the other side, and nothing about the energy you felt here seemed malignant or frightening.

You wait a few days, and you stop feeling the random rushes of cold, there's no flickering lights, there's no more hiding your books or toppling your glasses.

After two glasses of wine and a particularly trying day at work, you speak out loud.

"Are you shy now?" You ask, tipsy enough not to feel stupid in case you're talking to yourself.

You wait a few seconds, and nothing happens.

"Do you only show up when I'm half naked?" You continue, smirking a little. You slide down one strap of your camisole, revealing a bit of cleavage.

When nothing happens, you huff a little, but then the lights flicker.

"Aren't you afraid?"

You flinch at the deep voice right next to your ear, shivering at the sudden chill, but it isn't from fear.

"Takes a lot to scare me," you murmur, and turn your head to see him sitting there, right next to you, close enough that if you moved slightly, your thigh would touch his....if you could touch him, that is.

You're not sure how this works, but you're insanely curious to try.

He chuckles a little. "You're fearless."

"Do you like fearless girls? Or...did you? Before?"

"When I was alive, you mean?" He gives you a half smile. "Didn't know very many. I worked too hard to date much. Worked myself to death, really."

"Do you get bored, hanging around here? Is that why you watch me?"

He flushes, looking away from you, and you wonder how a ghost can blush. You find yourself wondering...

"I didn't mean to spy."

You smile at him and reach out to touch his collarbone, not knowing what might happen, but it works, you feel his skin soft beneath your hand.

He takes in a sharp breath, eyes widening. "You...you touched me."

"I...I did some research," you admit softly. "It's the witching hour, the time when the veil between the living and the dead is the thinnest. My name is Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

He swallows hard, staring down at your hand touching his collarbone, and then looks back up to your face. “I’m Yoongi.”

You swing your leg over his waist to straddle him, impulsively, and his breath hitches again, and he's cold to the touch, trembling under your fingers when you wrap your arms around his neck.

"What are you doing?" He breathes, eyes searching your face.

“Don’t you ever get lonely, Yoongi? Don’t you miss being touched like this?”

He smirks at you then. "I think maybe you're the one who is lonely, doll. Looking for a phantom lover?"

"You offering?"

"Doesn't look like you're gonna move out anytime soon. And you keep prancing around in my clothes..."

He slips a hand under your t-shirt, spanning his fingers up your ribcage and hissing in a breath between his teeth.

"It's been so long since I've been been able to touch someone," he says, looking into your eyes almost in awe.

"So touch me," you breathe.

It's so slow, how his hands move up under your shirt to palm your breasts, your nipples tightening and not just from the chill.

He lets out a low groan when you arch your back.

"I don't think I was ever this hard when I was alive," he mutters, and you roll your hips against his erection, eliciting another strangled moan from him.

"You know what's great about having a phantom lover?" You murmur into his ear.

"What's that, doll?" He sounds distracted, voice muffled against your skin as he kisses the base of your throat.

"You don't need condoms."

He hisses in another breath and moves his hands from your breasts to unbutton his jeans, huffing in frustration when he fumbles.

"These aren't even real," He mutters, and when you giggle his eyes dart to yours, something so soft in them it makes your heart speed up.

"You're so beautiful when you laugh."

He moves his hand to your face and your throat goes tight. You don't want to think about what happens after, if he'll disappear forever, if you'll pine over your phantom lover for years, so you unbutton his jeans for him, freeing his cock from the denim, and he looks down at your hand instead of your face.

"Oh, fuck." He mutters, bucking into your hand, and he moves his hands to your hips, lifting you up to rock you against him.

When you just roll your hips, stroking his cock slowly, watching precum drip down the head.

His breath is hitching in his chest and he buries his face in your neck. "C'mon, doll. Y/n. Don't tease. We...we might not have much time."

Your throat tightens again at the thought and you push the crotch of your panties to the side, holding him at the base until you slide down on him completely.

"Oh, fuck!" He cries out, throwing his head back against the couch, throat working, hands kneading your hips.

"Oh. Oh." You mewl.

You don't know what you'd expected, but he was so warm, pulsing inside you, just like he was alive and breathing, and you rock forward for friction, adjusting.

Yoongi sits up straighter on the couch, rolling his hips beneath you, and he catches your mouth with his, and his tongue is warm, too, he's warm all over as if he's coming to life and you press closer to him, wanting more.

He breaks away from you, breathing hard, watching you ride him, an awed and almost pained look on his handsome face.

"My pretty little doll, look at you. You're so good, so perfect. You're going to make me come. You're going to make me come in that tight cunt, but I want you pulsing around me, want you to come first, yeah?"

The way he’s praising you makes your skin hot, your head dizzy.

He grabs your hips, thrusting up into you, dragging his cock along just the right spot as you grind against him for pressure on your clit, and when you come you cry out his name.

You feel your cunt pulsing around him, tightening like a vice and he throws his head back again before kissing you hard, nipping at your bottom lip.

“You feel so fucking good, doll. You feel like heaven. It was worth all these years being alone just to feel you, you know that?”

He lets loose a string of curses when he spills inside you, and his come is warm too, almost hot, and none of the biology of this makes any fucking sense but you can’t care when you can feel his heart thudding against your chest as he presses you to him, when you can feel his lips planting soft kisses along your shoulders.

You play with the soft hair at the nape of his neck, looking at the clock over his shoulder, and it’s nearing 4am.

You hug him tight, tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. “Will you disappear after the witching hour is over?” You ask, voice hoarse.

He pulls back enough to look at your face, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek.

“I...I don’t know. You’re the one that did the research,” he jokes, but his half smile is a bit sad.

“Will you come back?”

He seems to think for a moment, and your heart seizes in your chest.

“I won’t leave. I never leave this place, and I damn sure don’t plan to now, after this. After you.”

You sigh in relief, but it’s shaky, and he leans up to kiss you, soft, and then you yelp as he disappears, making you plop down on the couch with a thud.

You feel cold, suddenly, cold and empty because whatever he’d left inside you was as gone as he was, and tears roll down your cheeks.

✨ If night falls in your heart, I'd light the fire... ✨

Taehyung watches you cry alone in your bed after you and your long term boyfriend break up, and he's worried.

He's worried, but he's been your guardian through other breakups, and he knows you're strong.

He hovers maybe a little, but that’s all, otherwise leaves you to your own devices, and boy does that turn out to be a mistake.

"Have you checked in on your human lately?" Taehyung's supervisor, Namjoon, asks dryly a few days later.

Taehyung jumps a bit, distracted.

"I check in on her every night," he says, almost proudly, and Namjoon raises an eyebrow.

"Maybe you should check on her earlier in the night, before she passes out," his supervisor calls over his shoulder, and Taehyung's throat tighten with fear.

He knows he's supposed to fill out paperwork to make an appearance to his human. He knows this. He's been following you since you turned 18 and he knows all the rules.

But when he looks in on you and you're lying naked on your floor with some idiot's cum drying on your lower back and a bottle of liquor by your head, he decides he doesn't have time to wait the week the paperwork will take.

He waits just long enough for you to wake up, and he’s expecting the ache in his chest, that’s part of the gig, that he feels what you feel, but what he isn’t expecting is the raw anger, the way it heats his face, and when you crack open your eyes and sit up on the floor, he ends up burning a hole in your carpet with angel fire when he appears because of that very anger.

The lights flicker when he arrives, and you flinch, but only a little, blinking up at him.

“You...You didn’t leave yet?” You ask, voice hoarse, and you’re reaching for the half empty bottle before Taehyung snatches it out of your hand.

“Stop it,” he says, voice low and booming, and you blink again.

You’re pretty sure this is not the guy you took home, surely you’d remember if you’d managed to snag someone this ridiculously handsome, and surely you’d remember that voice anywhere.

Also, is your carpet...smoking? 

You thought you were still asleep when he just appeared in your bedroom, but now you’re looking around your room, wondering if you choked on your own vomit and died, and then shrugging because it doesn’t bother you much to think that might be true.

“So are you...are you like...the devil?”

He shakes his head, exhaling a frustrated breath through his nostrils. “The opposite, Y/n.”

He squares his shoulders, looking at you expectantly, and you blink again.

He’s wearing just a pair of what looks like...black leggings? And he’s shirtless, and...oh fuck he has wings.

“Holy...”

He nods, as if that clears things up, and he unceremoniously grabs you under your arms, lifting you onto the bed.

You yelp a little in surprise but you don’t protest. You’re touch starved and 4am drunken booty calls aren’t helping with that much although the other...the other at least takes your mind off your ex, takes your mind off how he didn’t think you were good enough, about how he didn’t want you, and about how maybe he was right.

His hands feel so cool on your skin and you’re surprised, given the whole burning the carpet thing. 

“So...you gonna tell me your name, or...”

“Taehyung,” he says absentmindedly, and he’s just looking at you with this almost blank expression on his face.

You rub your thighs unconsciously, look down at yourself and realize you’ve been naked this whole time, but he looks extremely unbothered by it, so you don’t attempt to hide yourself.

“Is there like, a reason for this celestial visit? Just in the neighborhood?”

You try to tease him, get something out of him, maybe even a smile, but no dice.

“You’ve been bad,” he says bluntly, and you feel goosebumps break out on your skin, mouth going dry.

“Well, if it’s that type of visit,” you drawl, and you’re not usually this brazen but with the way the last few months have been going, you figure, what’s the harm?

"I'm angry with you," the angel says, thick brows furrowed.

You pout a little. "But we just met."

He shakes his head. "I've been watching you for years. Protecting you. But I never thought I'd have to protect you from yourself."

It's all too much, suddenly, and you cross your arms over your chest to cover your breasts, feeling naked and vulnerable for the first time since he'd appeared.

"I don't need this," you whisper, tears spilling down your cheeks. "I know I'm a fuck up. I know I'm not good enough. I don't need my hot guardian angel appearing just to fucking judge me!"

He just frowns harder, still towering over you, but then he sits on the edge of the bed, leaning toward you as you tremble with anger.

He looks at you for a long moment and then envelops you with his wings, putting his forehead to yours, and you gasp at how warm you are, suddenly, how safe you feel.

"I'm sorry. I'm not... I'm not used to talking to humans, and I just...I worry. I don't judge you." His voice is a low, soothing baritone, and your tears fall faster.

"I'm so alone," you whimper.

He leans his head back to look at you, his hands on your shoulders, his touch cool on your skin, giving you goosebumps.

"You're not alone," his voice is fierce. "You're never alone, little dove."

You can't help burying your face in his chest, sobbing out all the loneliness and heartbreak you'd been trying to avoid feeling with booze and nameless men, and he murmurs comforts in your ear.

There's a faint whooshing sound when he folds his wings back, and it startles you a bit and you pull away, wiping at your face.

He's just looking at you, big, soulful brown eyes seeming to peer into your soul.

"I want to help you. Tell me how to help you."

You sniffle. "I...I don't know. It helps to talk."

That's all you do, the first night, you talk and he listens, making that little hum in the back of his throat or protesting a bit when you say something self deprecating, but otherwise just nodding, watching your face.

At one point he takes your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs across your palms as you speak.

It's nearing daylight when you tire, your head drooping as you sit quietly together. Just his presence has started to make you feel safe, and you've dozed off when he stands up.

You startle awake, whimpering. "Wait. Don't. Don't go. Not yet."

He's climbing back on the bed without a word and you clutch at him, lying your head on his chest and he gasps a little at your touch.

"Just stay a little while longer....just a little," you mumble, eyes drifting shut, and when you shiver he wraps his wings around you both again to warm you.

It's slow, how it happens, how he starts to feel real to you, starts to feel..almost human. Somehow it becomes a trend, you sleeping naked with your head on his chest, and you’re not even sure he sleeps because he’s always just gazing at you when you wake up.

He watches you do the simplest things with something like wonder in his eyes, and on the third morning when you sip your coffee and it’s too hot, he vaults over the counter and takes the cup from you, sitting it on the table, frowning at you.

“Tae...what are you-”

He backs you against the fridge with his body and his face is so serious. 

“You should be more careful, dove,” he says, and leans his head down to kiss you, open mouthed, and when you make a surprised squeal into his mouth he barks a little laugh and then takes a step back, covering his mouth.

He just looks so surprised, mouth open in shock, and your mouth is tingling where he’s healed you and suddenly you just can’t stop laughing.

He gives you the most bewildered smile, and then it breaks into this boxy grin and your heart feels lighter than it has in months.

He’s there almost a week, and he doesn't mention that he should go, that he's breaking rules by being here, but you can sense it when he goes away to talk to someone you can't see, voice calm and low but with an underlying fierceness.

It makes your chest tight to think of him leaving, and it's only made worse the fourth night, when you're sitting on the floor of your living room and you're still talking, this time about why you'd been being so reckless with men and alcohol.

He shifts a little on the floor, seeming suddenly nervous, surprising you. He's always so calm, so reserved.

"Can I...can I ask you something?"

You nod and he lets out a long breath.

"Why do you...why do you let those men do those things to you?"

You bark out a surprised laugh. "Do angels not know about fucking?"

He wrinkles his nose at your language and it makes you smile.

"Of course. There's nothing sinful about making love," he says dismissively. "I mean....treat you that way. Say those things to you."

"What things?"

"One quote I remember is: you dick drunk whore,'" he says, nose wrinkling again, and you choke out another laugh.

You shrug. "It's just a....a kink, Taehyung. Like some people have a thing for being called names like that, it turns them on."

He seems to consider this for a moment, tilting his head.

"I do not believe it would be my... kink," he says primly, and you can't believe you're laughing again, after the year you've had.

"What would be your kink?" You tease.

"Is there a kink for the opposite of that? Telling you how beautiful you are, how your skin glows when you're in the throes of passion, how your mouth parts in the most exquisite way when you come?"

Your mouth goes instantly dry and your breath catches in your throat. Has he....does he.... watch you?

"Praise," you choke out. "That would be a praise kink."

He nods slowly, smiling a bit, and it makes him look almost human, like some handsome boy you'd brought home, if it weren't for the wings folded on his back.

"Taehyung?"

He hums low in his chest, and it sends a little shiver up your spine.

"Do you...do you watch me?"

"Always," he says easily.

"I mean...when I'm...with men."

He frowns a little. "I...I try not to."

"You don't like watching me?"

He shakes his head slowly. He did everything slowly, you noticed, everything thought out, careful.

"I like watching you when you're alone. But with men.... especially your ex..." He wrinkles his nose in disgust again and you smile.

"I guess it's kind of weird, watching someone have sex."

"It's not that. I don't like the way they treat you. It isn't right, the way they touch you."

You lean forward a bit, interested. "What do you mean?"

He's quiet for a moment, still frowning, looking down at his hands.

"You....you could show me."

You don't know why you said it. You don't know why you lean toward him.

He makes that hum in the back of his throat again, tilting his head again.

He moves slowly but it's still surprising, how gently he pushes you down on the bed, towering over you, and you swallow, hard.

You expect him to be hesitant, quiet, but he drags the back of his hand down the outside of your breast, down to your hip.

"They should've touched you like you're something holy," he murmurs.

He leans down to kiss the base of your throat, open mouthed, and for just a moment, your skin there is so hot it almost stings, but then it's cool, almost cold.

He keeps trailing his hand up and down your side and your body is buzzing with pleasure and need when you huff out a breath.

"Tae, come on. I'm not fragile."

His eyes were following the line of your body but now his gaze darts up to your face.

"Not fragile, little dove," he coos, moving his hand to cup your pussy, slipping two fingers inside you and you wonder how closely he's watched to know how you like the burn and stretch from not much preparation before your brain goes fuzzy with pleasure.

"Not fragile, but precious. You deserve more than they gave you. You deserve to have every inch of your skin worshipped."

You whimper quietly, rocking up against his hand, and then he leans down to kiss you, softly at first, then deeper, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he presses up against your gspot and putting pressure on your clit with his thumb.

He leans up, breaking the kiss, to brace himself with his palm on the bed and watch his fingers pumping in and out of you, his handsome face serious and focused.

You reach up to spread your hands across his chest and he gasps when you run your palm across one of his nipples, eyes darting to your face.

You can’t help but smile a little, it’s cute, his reaction.

“There are other ways you can make me feel better, you know,” You gasp out as his fingers never stop inside you. 

"What can I do, little dove?”

He’s removed his fingers from you and he puts them in his mouth almost absentmindedly and you forget what you were going to say.

You lean up to tug down his pants and he looks down, seeming almost surprised to see his cock springing free.

When you wrap a hand around it he draws in a sharp breath.

"Oh, dove," he breathes. "That's... that's against the rules."

"Please? I need....I need someone who knows me. Someone who...who cares about me. Don't you care about me, Tae?"

His face looks almost pained, the most expression you'd seen him have all night.

"Of course I do."

You give his cock one stroke, slow, rolling your thumb over the head and he gasps in another breath that hitches in his chest, his full mouth parting.

"If you love me, then love me, Taehyung," you murmur, spreading your thighs wider.

His face grows even more pained but when you guide him into you, he doesn't protest, and he lets out a surprised sound that turns into a low moan when he's buried inside of you.

He doesn't move, stilling completely, and when you whine he drops down on his forearms, stroking your face.

"Dove," he murmurs. "Y/n. You deserve to be loved."

Tears roll down your face and he kisses them away, his lips so hot on your skin that it gives you a chill when he pulls away, and he kisses your mouth then, soft.

He moans again into your mouth when you part your lips, taking your lead when you slip your tongue into his mouth.

You rock your hips up to urge him to move and he hisses through his teeth and starts to move his hips, slow, looking down into your face, his mouth slack, eyes so wide and surprised it makes you smile a little.

You wrap your hands around his neck, brushing against the soft feather of his wings, and he groans.

“I don’t know....I don’t know how you humans do it,” he gasps, and you laugh a little into his mouth when he kisses you again, deeper, hungrier.

“Have sex?”

He shakes his head quickly. “No. No. How do you stop?”

You laugh again, free and open, and he’s giving you that look again, the one as if you’re just the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen, so you smirk and buck your hips beneath him, tightening your cunt around him.

“Oh, oh!” He cries out and starts to move his hips faster, pistoning into you, and you’re whining as your orgasm approaches.

He kisses a line of fire across your throat, and then throws his head back as his thrusts get more unsteady.

You tug at the hair on the nape of his neck when you come and he cries out your name, spilling what feels like fire that quickly cools into you.

Taehyung pants against your neck, kissing your earlobe, and when you wriggle out beneath him to go to the bathroom, he whines and reaches out to you.

You smile at him over your shoulder, your heart skipping a beat.

When you look in the mirror while you’re washing your hands, there’s a line of what looks like burns across your throat, and you trail your fingers along them in wonder.

Taehyung looks almost mournful when you mention them and show him, later, tugging down the hem of your shirt.

“Oh, dove. I’m sorry. Sometimes...sometimes when we get...emotional, there’s angelfire. I can heal them-”

“No!” You cry out, and you flush and look down. “No, I want to...I want to keep them. For when you have to go.”

He flinches a bit, looking so stricken that you go to him, put your arms around him and rest your head on his chest, like you do every night before you go to sleep.

He doesn’t say anything else, but for the first time, he’s not there when you wake up and your heart starts to pound with panic.

But you can hear his low baritone from just outside the door, this time less calm, and you can’t understand what he’s saying but he’s almost shouting, and your breathing slows.

You’re still sitting there a few minutes later when he comes back to the doorway, and his wings are spread and your eyes widen at the sight.

He grunts in frustration when he can’t get through the door and folds them, huffing out a breath.

“What’s wrong?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer, just looks at you with big dark eyes, and then he sits on the edge of the bed.

“I...they want me to come home.”

Your heart falls to your toes, but you swallow hard and give him a weak smile.

“Well,” you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. “I guess it’s been enough time.”

“No!” He almost shouts, and his eyes soften when you look surprised. He takes your hands, rubbing his thumbs across your palms as he did the first night, looking down at your hands in his, and it makes your chest ache. “It’s not enough time. It will never be enough time.”

When he looks up at you again, tears are rolling down his cheeks and you brush one away with your thumb.

“It’s okay, Tae. I’m okay. I won’t...I won’t do the things I was before. You helped me.”

He shakes his head, throat working as if there are words stuck in it that he can’t say, and you kiss him softly.

“You can go,” you say, and your voice doesn’t break, to your surprise. “You have to go.”

Taehyung leans down to rest his forehead on your joined hands and your heart is breaking, tears rolling down your cheeks.

You reach out a shaking hand to stroke his hair.

“Y/n,” he says, brokenly, kissing the tops of your hands. “Little dove.”

“I...I can’t watch you go. But you’ll be watching me, yeah? You’ll be watching me, and I’ll be safe.”

You have to tug hard to take your hands from his and you wonder if you’ll ever forget the wrecked look on his face when he lifts his head.

You leave the room as quickly as you can, scrambling off the bed and closing the door behind you before you start to sob.

You pace in the kitchen until the lights in your apartment flicker, the way they did the first night he came to you, and you bolt to your room, hoping against hope he’s still there, but there’s nothing but a burned, smoking spot on your bed where’d he’d been sitting and on your pillow, a white, silky feather.

***

Taehyung tries. He really does. He watches you for a week, his breath catching in his throat when you take a drink, but you keep it to one or two, don’t engage in the behaviors that caused him to visit you in the first place, and he’s so proud when you delete your ex’s number that his chest swells.

But it’s torture. It’s the sweetest torture, watching you, how you still hiss when you take your first sip of coffee in the morning, never remembering how hot it is, how you sit on the edge of the tub to run your hands through the bath water before getting in, and it’s so much worse now that he knows what you taste like, that he knows the sounds you make when he’s inside you, the little laugh you do everytime he looks at you in wonder.

It hurts, it hurts somewhere deep in his bones and it’s not your pain he’s feeling but his own and it’s not something he’s used to, and he counts the days by the hours since he’s left you now instead of not realizing time much at all.

It’s 149 hours when his wings spread involuntarily, heat from angelfire boiling off him, and 149 hours and fifteen minutes when he bursts into Namjoon’s office.

“I need to be reassigned,” he blurts, and Namjoon barely reacts, just glancing up at him from his work.

“That’s not how it works. You used to know that, Taehyung.”

“Please,” he pleads, taking a few steps toward his mentor. “Please.I can’t watch her anymore.”

“What’d you see?” Namjoon asks softly, and Taehyung doesn’t answer, can’t answer, the words sticking in his throat, because it doesn’t make any sense.

It was just a moment, just a second, really, when one of your male friends threw an arm around your shoulder, and it wasn’t that, either.

It was the way you smiled. It was this small, secret smile, one you quickly covered with your hand, when the man had let his hand linger on your skin.

Namjoon wouldn’t understand, because angels weren’t supposed to feel things like jealousy buzzing like bees under his skin, or longing like a muscle ache that never healed.

Taehyung doesn’t realize he’s said what he was thinking until Namjoon puts a hand on his shoulder.

“I won’t reassign you,” he says, his tone soft, almost...empathetic, and Taehyung makes a protest before Namjoon shakes his head. “I won’t reassign you because it won’t help.”

Taehyung has been looking down at his feet, but now his eyes shoot up to his mentor’s face.

Namjoon chuckles and it’s surprisingly bitter. “You think this is my first?” 

Taehyung just stares at him, shocked, and Namjoon gestures to a nearby chair.

“Sit down. Let’s talk.”

✨ ✨ ✨

It’s been a little over a week since your guardian angel had left, and sometimes you wish you could feel his presence, at least a little.

Sometimes you think that might make things even harder, though, and you had reminders, after all: a soreness and redness all over your body, where his body had been pressed to yours, like a sunburn. That one silky feather, the one you kept on your pillow. The burns he’d left on your neck...until they start to fade...all but one, right at the base of your throat.

It had scabbed over, and then scarred, and it was raised there.

Every time you started to think you were crazy, that he’d been some phantom lover born of loneliness and heartbreak, you run your fingers over the scar, and it gives you a chill.

You had told Taehyung the truth. You were okay. You were able to get back to your life again, be more yourself, and that was all thanks to him. You’re sad, when he leaves, but you think about how upset he’d be if you went back to your bad habits, and you’re able to get past it...as much as you’re able.

You’re not even thinking about it on the way home from work, walking because it’s such a nice night, humming a little under your breath.

You come around the corner and there’s a man sitting up against the brick of your apartment building, his head down, huddled in a blanket. When you get closer, you can hear him crying, and it hurts your heart.

You reach into your purse to see if you have any cash, stopping next to him, and then you hear a low, shaky baritone, just two words, that make your heart stop beating for a moment.