#kth x reader

Taehyung was the furthest thing from a clubgoer; he hated crowds, he hated the music that thumped in his chest but felt awkward to bounce to, and he didn’t like that everyone tends to get a little more stupid. He also wasn’t good at saying no. His university friend was getting married, and as one of the groomsmen, it was pretty integral for him to show up to the bachelor party tonight. 

Taehyung was fresh out of the shower: hair damp, moisturized, clean-shaven. He popped the last spoonful of his dinner into his mouth as he rinsed the last of his dishes. Quiet R&B sang through the apartment as he tidied up—he liked a clean apartment to come home to. Or maybe he was procrastinating getting ready. He didn’t even know what to wear tonight. A nice shirt, a turtleneck? Jeans? 

The blow dryer deafened him as he dried his hair. He thought about what he was going to say and who he was going to talk to. He wanted to set a strategy for his night so that he could strike a balance between seeming enthusiastic and getting to go home. What if the music was terrible and he looked bored? It will be too loud to talk. What if he comes off as rude? He puffed air out of his cheeks nervously as he got ready. Not only did he not want to go to a club, but he also didn’t know how. 

His toothbrush dangled out of his mouth as he finished styling his hair. His glasses slid down his nose bridge as he tilted his head forward to assess his hair in the mirror. He scooped out a dime-sized glob of pomade and ran it through his hair before giving it a fluff. He aimed to arrive early at ten, so he could find an excuse to leave early before his friends inevitably got wasted and stupid. He groaned at the thought of staying up so late. Ten was usually when he went to sleep. 

On top of supporting his friend tonight, he was being set up with a new girl tonight. Well, sort of. Min-woo and his fiancée, Nina, were celebrating together tonight, and both of them recommended that Taehyung meet an old classmate of theirs. His friends insisted that he needed more excitement in his life. Although he sometimes protested, he agreed: being single at thirty was not his plan. 

Taehyung had a good job in IT, a sector that he was good at, paid well, and let him work alone for most of his time. His job earned him this gorgeous high-rise two-bedroom condo that he lived in alone. His building had a well-maintained gym that he went to almost every day at six in the morning, before he would shower, eat breakfast and be out the door by 8:15. He had enough friends who kept him company when he needed it, and otherwise he liked to keep to himself. His dinner time was 7:30pm without fail, and he was happy with his “little hamster wheel of a life”, according to his friends. 

After years of being teased and worrying his parents for being chronically single, he caved and agreed to meet this friend-of-a-friend. 

She’s a nice girl who works at Kookmin Bank. Her family lives in Cheongdam-dong, and she’s from good money. Perfectly suitable as a wife, if you ask me. 

Maybe it was his introversion, or the fact that he had to abandon his bedtime tonight, but he was moving more slowly tonight. Forgive his lack of enthusiasm, but Taehyung had tried his hand with a small handful of women, and all of them would satisfy his parents, but ultimately, he felt like there was nothing there. Enough romance movies and endless hours listening to ballads wrote him out to be a serial romantic, and unfortunately, he’s only met women who were a little too polite, overly performative with their status and equally as uninteresting as him. Every woman he met was gentle and respectful to him, not in a way that made him feel appreciated, but made him feel like they pitied him. Every new introduction to another investment banker made him reel in his lack of a love life. 

“Aishh,” he mumbled to himself as he struggled to button the last cuff of his shirt. 

He looked in the mirror and adjusted his sleeves. He couldn’t figure out what to wear, so he settled on his go-to for any sort of dressy event: a crispy white dress shirt tucked into his favourite black tailored pants and a black tie. He skipped the blazer; he already looked enough like he was attending a wedding. 

Taehyung’s car arrived within ten minutes, and he took one last look in his mirror by the door and licked his lower lip. Here goes nothing.

────୨ৎ────

The club was packed, dark, and dirtier than Taehyung was comfortable with. The bouncer had IDed him, which embarrassed him. Why the fuck did he think he was younger than nineteen? Bodies bumped past him as he squeezed through the crowd, trying to find his people. The room smelled of cigarettes, spilled drinks, and sweat. The music was loud, very loud, and he thought about how his vinyl player at home always played at the perfect pace and volume for his delicate ears.

Just an hour or so, then I can head home.

“There he is!” Taehyung’s friend wrapped his arms around him and gave him a pat on the back. “I’m glad you made it out tonight. I know it isn’t your thing.” 

Min-woo was Taehyung’s classmate from university. Despite being a little older than him, the two had many classes together, and Taehyung helped Min-woo finally graduate. Gap years are crucial to finding yourself in your twenties, Taehyung-ssi. 

“Hi, Min-woo hyung,” he said with a polite smile. He shoved his hands in his pockets, letting Min-woo introduce him to a handful of other attendees. Taehyung rounded the circle with bows, handshakes, and tight-lipped smiles. Everyone else was drinking or drunk and had come with plus ones. Figures.

“Oh, and this is Soo-min,” Min-woo gestured to a petite girl standing next to him. She gave you a polite bow, and Taehyung returned the gesture. 

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” she spoke softly under the loud music. 

Soo-min was a pretty, innocent-looking girl with light brown hair that fell to her collarbones. She wore light makeup and contact lenses that made her eyes look bigger. Her skin was very fair, and she was very thin. Her smile was symmetrical and perfectly white. Gangnam dentist, for sure. She was in a pretty dress that flowed down to below her knees, and to be honest, she looked exactly the type of girl Taehyung’s parents wanted him to marry. She also looked like she shouldn’t be here. She practically looked like him.

“Soo-min, Taehyungie here is in IT.” 

“Oh, that’s so interesting,” she said with a perfectly constructed smile.

No, it wasn’t. 

“Yeah, thanks,” Taehyung replied shyly, and he awkwardly nodded along to the beat of the music and looked around the room.

“So, you earn quite a lot then.” She continued with a small nod.

“Uh, I put a mortgage down on my condo a year ago, so,” he trailed off, fluffing the back of his hair. This felt painful. 

The music drowned out most of the conversation, but it bled on with lots of polite yeses and nos, and lots of direct questions that Taehyung felt awkward answering. What was your GPA? How big is your apartment? Where do your parents live now? 

Min-woo appeared beside him, clearly a little more inebriated than before. 

“Taehyung-ssi,” he mumbled in his ear, his breath smelling of a mix of various drinks. “She’s nice, right? Soo-min went to school with Nina; she can be a little snobbish, but hey, Gangnam money gets you a long way, huh?” He chuckled. 

Taehyung nodded before excusing himself to go to the bar and get a drink. He didn’t even drink that much; he just wanted to escape the job interview he was being subjected to with his playdate back there. 

Was it too early to try to go home? 

He made a few ignored attempts at flagging the bartender down before giving up and just standing there, lightly bobbing his head to the beat of the music.

This night was going to feel like forever.

“Hi, Tae.”

A chill went down his spine at the sound of your voice. Fuck.

He turned around to meet your eyes, and they almost immediately fell to scan your body unintentionally. You looked as beautiful as ever. It was like you knew every single little detail he liked about you and multiplied it. 

Your long dark hair cascaded off your shoulders and danced across your back, swirling and bouncing around the pretty ornaments inked into your shoulders, arms and collarbone. The glitter in your lip gloss danced under the lights as you spoke, and your lashes were full and spiky like a doll.

You wore a black top that left your tattoos and round breasts in perfect display, fuck me, Taehyung thought. Your legs looked so long in your tiny black skirt and wrapped in sheer black pantyhose, and your eyeliner wrapped your eye in a way that made you look like a cat. Like a siren. 

You smiled up at him and turned your head back towards the bar. Taehyung swallowed and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. 

You two had met last year at a mutual friend’s housewarming party, and ever since that day, you had completely knocked the wind out of Tae’s lungs. Against everyone’s–and his own expectations, and despite his attempts to keep it under control, you were exactly what he dreamed of. The perfect opposite of him, you were confident, carefree, so unapologetically seductive. The way you commanded a room so easily when Taehyung was barely acknowledged made his stomach flip. And it flipped even more when he knew that you liked seeing him.

You two had slept together for the first time several months ago, a secluded conversation at a party became roaming hands and the type of kissing that made his glasses fog up. That day was the beginning of Taehyung’s psychological torment. He knew that you didn’t do relationships, and that any attempt at getting to know you was futile. According to all factors, you were bad for him, but it didn’t stop his addiction. At any given point on any day, he would drop anything if you asked for it. And he was so ashamed to admit that he was wrapped right around your manicured finger. 

“Hello, Y/N. It’s…it’s good to see you.” He stammered. His tie suddenly felt too tight.

You didn’t even look at him, but a small smile spread on your lips, like you were saying I know. He didn’t take any offence—he felt unworthy of your gaze. You leaned over the bar and waved the bartender down with ease, the large-framed man showing up in just a few moments. 

“Anything to drink, Tete?” You swirled a tendril of hair around your finger. He blinked and turned to the bartender. 

“Uh, I’ll have a glass of white wine?” 

You giggled, and he let out an awkward laugh. God, he felt like such a loser.

“And a gin and tonic, please,” you nodded at the bartender, and he whisked away. 

“Long time no see,” you said, still watching the bar. From your peripheral vision, you knew Taehyung was staring directly at you; he could never help it. “I would never expect to see you at a club.”

“Err, I’m here for Min-woo. He asked me to be his groomsman for the wedding.”

“How sweet,” you hummed, “You’re not over there with the group?”

“No, there’s a–” Taehyung was about to tell you about Soo-min, but he held his tongue. “Just needed some space.”

You smirked. “Party not good over there?” 

Taehyung laughed a little. “It’s okay. Just a lot of people I don’t know.” 

“Nina told me she was setting you up tonight.” You turned to face him, an innocent smile splayed across your face. 

“Uh,” Taehyung faltered for a moment. “Sort of. I just met her, she’s…nice.” 

You cocked your head slightly, not convinced.

“...Nice. That’s cute. She seems like a sweet girl. I hope she’s good for you.” 

Taehyung felt a burn in his chest at your approval of his play date. He didn’t want your blessing: he wanted you.

A few moments later, the bartender returned with the two drinks. Taehyung pulled his wallet out, eager to buy you a drink. But before he could even try to pay, the bartender interrupted.

“It’s on me,” the bartender spoke directly to you, his eyes twinkling with charm. “Beautiful girls like you shouldn’t have to pay.” 

“Oh, that’s sweet, thank you,” you cooed, leaning in to take a sip of your drink, not breaking eye contact with the tall man on the other side of the bar. Your tongue flicked out to lick your straw innocently before feeding it into your mouth. Taehyung felt his stomach drop.

The bartender turned the card machine to Taehyung, the total only including his own drink. He awkwardly shoved his credit card in the slot while the bartender and you were basically eye fucking. 

“What’s your name?” The bartender continued. 

“Y/N,” you said with a smile. You tilted your head to one side, letting your hair fall over your back and reveal the bare skin of your shoulder.

“I’m San.” The man leaned a little closer to you, his biceps flexing in his fitted black T-shirt with the cuffs rolled up. “Pleasure.” 

“Nice to meet you,” you said, tilting your glass in your hands. 

“You come here alone tonight, Y/N?” San leaned in, almost whispering in your ear over the loud music. 

“I’m here with friends,” you continued, not backing down from the close distance. 

“And yet, you’re here at the bar by yourself,” San continued, smirking at you.

And I’m invisible, apparently, Taehyung thought to himself. 

“Just taking a breather,” you replied with a coy smile. 

Taehyung knew that you were a flirt, but it made his skin crawl all the same, being subjected to watching you charm someone else. He took a large swig of his wine, letting the dryness wash down his throat.

You and the bartender chatted for a few moments as the music thumped on, and Taehyung felt his chest get tight with jealousy. Over what? You barely saw each other. The last time he even spoke to you was at New Year's, when you two ended up doing a little more than talking. You weren’t his to claim.

He finished the last of his wine with a gulp and set the glass down behind him.

“Anyway, I have to go. Nice meeting you,” you turned and gave Taehyung’s tie a gentle but commanding tug. “Let’s go, Tete.” 

Taehyung’s eyebrows raised as he helplessly obeyed you like a puppy. As you pulled him through the crowd by the tie, he turned back quickly to see San looking dumbfounded. Taehyung felt a small amount of triumph that you had chosen to abandon the hot bartender for an IT guy who drinks wine at a nightclub. 

Your hand gently guided him through the crowd by his tie, and he followed you like a dog on a leash. You released your hold on him in the center of the dance floor, away from the rest of your friends.

The crowd enveloped you two, and you turned to face Taehyung, draping your arms around his neck. 

“Dance with me,” you murmured into Taehyung’s ear. He nervously looked around the room before looking down at you, your eyes glimmering with a presiding playfulness. 

How could he possibly refuse?

He quickly swiped his already sweating palms on the back of his trousers before wrapping them around your waist, swaying a little to the beat of your body, the two of you moving against each other inconspicuously. 

“So, you’re attending the wedding,” he began, his tongue darting out to lick his lower lip nervously.

You hummed, dipping your head over to one side to enjoy the music. 

“Yes, I went to check out the venue with Nina last week,” you said, tilting your head back and letting the colourful lights dance across your face.

In the dim lights, your lips glistened as you spoke, and he felt like he was being hypnotized. 

You were not the type of woman his parents would necessarily approve of, but he stared at you like you were Aphrodite herself. 

“Are you…going alone?” 

You were unfazed by his question and kept swaying your head and waist with him slowly.

“Mm, probably. I don’t think it’s appropriate to go to a wedding with a guy I’m just sleeping with, do you?” 

A guy you were sleeping with. Of course, there were probably others.

He wanted to walk away; he knew it was so much better for him to fight this. Every time you saw each other, Taehyung went home with a hole in his chest. But you were intoxicating, an oasis to a dying man, an opiate to an addict, and he cursed himself for falling under your spell. 

The music transitioned into something slower, warmer, more intimate. You smiled up at Taehyung innocently and dropped your hands from his neck and turned around, your bum grazing gently against his pants as you continued moving your hips.

“This okay?” you tutted, pressing your back against his chest and moving his hands back over your hips and upper thigh.

“Fuck—“ Taehyung blinked hard, shaking his head, muttering under his breath. “Fuck me.”

“If that’s what you really want,” you purred, your hips still rolling and swaying against his pants, letting his hands park themselves on your hips, guiding you as you rocked your hips against his. 

You’re dancing on him so torturously and purposefully that Taehyung felt like he should have paid for it. He looks up at the ceiling momentarily and makes a face like he was asking God for forgiveness, before dropping his head back down to watch you with his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Y/N, what are you doing to me?” 

He had done so well for the last few weeks. He woke up early, went to the gym, slept on time, and has been very productive at work. He kept himself on a tight routine because he believed that maintaining order in his life would give him the discipline to have a good life. And the strength to stay away from you. To not crave you as he does so wildly and intensely when he’s too ashamed to admit it.

“You don’t like dancing with me, Tete?” You cooed, your arms coming up over your head to gently touch Taehyung’s shoulders behind you. 

Taehyung couldn’t respond right away. The friction of you rubbing up against his pants drove him crazy, and your hair gently brushing against his chest as you moved made his heart race. He could feel himself getting stiff in his boxers, and his eyelids got heavier as his grip around your waist moved lower ever so slightly, down to your hips. He knew that you could feel him hardening beneath you as well, and you turned your head to look back at him, flashing him a torturously innocent smile.

“Why do you do this to me?” Taehyung mumbled, speaking as softly as possible to not offend you because, even though he protested, he would die if you stopped looking at him like that.

“Because,” you let your lips graze his cheek, “you’re such a pretty, good boy.”

A breathy groan escaped his lips before he shut his mouth, trying his best to hold it together. You two remained glued to each other, his hands slowly moving lower, and lower, a little firmer. 

The song ended, and you turned around, giving him a gentle pat on the cheek. 

“I’m heading to the bathroom,” you spoke sweetly into his face, inches from his mouth. 

And with that, you whisked away and disappeared into the crowd.

Taehyung ran his fingers through his hair and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He glanced around the crowded room, checking if anyone saw him. He was now almost entirely hard in his trousers, the material of his pants rough against his crotch and making him falter at any friction. 

He puffed air out of his cheeks. As quickly as you had appeared, you had left him here, frustrated, flushed, and wanting.

“Oh, there you are.” 

Taehyung turned around to see Soo-min, with a soft smile on her face. 

“Soo-min, hi.” 

He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to hide the tent in his pants. 

“We were wondering where you had wandered off to,” she said with a small laugh. 

Taehyung let out an awkward laugh.

“Just needed some air,” he blurted, shrugging his shoulders with feigned innocence.

“...In the middle of the dance floor?” 

“Ah–” he faltered. He was crumbling a little.

“Anyway, it’s getting late for me, I’m going to head out,” he continued, bowing slightly to Soo-min. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Already? It’s not even midnig–”

“Tete.” 

Taehyung turned immediately at the sound of your voice like a reflex. You were already smirking at him when he turned around, and he knew that he had been caught. By Soo-min, by you. No matter what he protested, no matter what he told others, you owned him. He wanted to hold his ground so badly, but his movements betrayed him, and he knew that no matter what he told himself, his body was yours. The way you said his nickname like a command, he fantasized about being at your beck and call all day. 

“Sorry, excuse me,” Taehyung murmured to Soo-min, before following closely behind you like your pet.

Although your back was to him, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you heard his footsteps behind you. Just the type of man you wanted.

The city sounds drowned out the music behind him as Taehyung stepped back out onto the pavement. The cool wind hit his face like a splash of cold water, sobering him up from the heavy spell he was under inside. 

You flicked your lighter and leaned in to light your cigarette, the orange light of the flame illuminating all the jewelry hanging from your ears. Your eyes glowed with the light, like a jaguar looking at its prey. You exhaled your smoke and took a step closer to him.

“Bring me home,” you said with a smile, draping your arms over his neck. His heart skipped a beat at your request, but he pushed those thoughts down. 

“Let me call you a car,” he offered, his hand gently holding you at your lower back, his other hand reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. He was using all of his might not to look into your eyes. “To make sure you get home safely.”

You watched while he pulled up his rideshare app on his phone. A finger came up to lower his screen, forcing him to look at you. Those eyes. Your gaze skewered him through the throat, holding any of his words hostage. 

“Gentlemen bring their women all the way home,” you cooed, pushing his phone back down. 

Tae looked at you. He was fighting an internal war against your temptation. He knew you didn’t love him. He knew that the past year was just you having fun and him being caught up in his own serial romanticism. You weren’t evil; you had made your intentions very clear, from the first time you let him fuck you in the walk-in closet at a friend’s condo during a house party. He was stronger than that now. He finished his military service, and he strengthened his mind, his body, his discipline. 

Which meant he felt even more helpless when he lost all control when you looked up at him with those eyes, smelling like vanilla and black coffee. 

Fuck it.

And just like that, the car was a few minutes away, routed back to his condo.

────୨ৎ────

The key fumbled a little in his hands as Taehyung unlocked his door. The room was dark and smelled faintly of sandalwood, the candle that he had been burning earlier. Thank god he had cleaned the kitchen before leaving. Your heels clicked on his hardwood floors behind him, and he swallowed. He couldn’t believe that this time, you were inside his own home, standing in his living room. Like you were his.

Taehyung hadn’t even gotten to turn any of the lights on before you had backed him towards his own couch, letting his legs hit the seat and fall gently onto the cushions. The glowing city view illuminated the two of you in shadows and low exposure. You straddled his lap and licked a wet line tracing his neck and jawline, causing a small whimper to escape his lips. 

You lingered over his lips for a painfully long time, testing the waters of how badly he wanted this. He shuffled under you; the weight of you against his trousers made his hard-on painfully apparent. But that was the least of his concerns with you in his lap, your foreheads pressed together.

“You look so pretty under me, angel,” you cooed against his mouth. “Kiss me?” 

Taehyung moaned against your mouth and tilted his head upwards so that your lips finally connected. 

He kissed you desperately, needy, pathetic. His lips smashed into yours like he was in a hurry. 

He pulled away and opened his eyes to look at you for a quick moment, making sure to lock eyes with you before leaning in and kissing you again. 

This wasn’t a brash decision, he was desperate for you to know. He was kissing you with intention; he wanted you with his whole body, and he needed you to know he wasn’t a compulsive man despite your lips hitting him like a drug.

He wanted you to know that when he whimpered and whined for you, he did it earnestly and without hesitation. 

And that’s the kind of attitude that got you so fucking wet. 

You let your bum grind down on his crotch, and he let out a groan into your mouth.

“Please don’t do this to me,” Taehyung begged, bucking his hips slightly up towards you. You smiled down at him mischievously and lowered yourself to the ground, now sitting between his legs on the floor.

You let him watch you intently as you unbuckled his belt, undid the clasp of his trousers, and pulled down his zipper. 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” 

You let his cock spring free, long and thick and slightly curved. Your mouth watered at the sight, and behind it, Taehyung was red in the face. He covered his face with one hand, shyness washing over him all over again, as you grazed your lips against his dick, blowing air gently over his sensitive red tip that was already leaking precum. 

“So hard already, baby,” you cooed. “Did I do something to you?” Taehyung rolled his head back, tossing his head in protest as you held his legs open with your hands, continuing to tease him.

“What a pretty cock just for me, hm?” Little praises fell from your lips as you gripped him softly, your thumb swiping up the glistening fluid dribbling from his tip. “You needed this badly, didn’t you?”

Taehyung looked at you with half-lidded eyes and a pout; his glasses had slid a little lower down his nose bridge; he looked so needy and desperate. 

“Please, Y/N. I’ll be—“ he cried. “I’m a good boy.” 

You smiled up at him before finally parting your lips and wrapping them warmly around the tip of his flushed, needy cock. Taehyung’s hips bucked up a little at the touch, and he hissed and dropped his head back. His reaction sparked something low and deep in your abdomen. You loved seeing what you did to him. Your tongue poked out, twisting and licking him like a sweet candy.

“Mmph,” he whined, his brows knitting together and his mouth forming an O. “Just like that, please, please.” 

You granted his wish, sinking your mouth deeper down on his twitching cock, the heat from your mouth enveloping him in a way that made him feel dizzy. His head was leaned back on his couch, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to memorize the way your mouth felt on him.

His hips unintentionally thrust towards your mouth harder, his cock dipping deeper towards the back of your throat. 

Ring. Ring.

Taehyung’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his phone ringing. He leaned over and fumbled for his phone on the couch before seeing who the caller was. Min-woo. 

He rushed to silence his phone, pressing urgently on the volume button. You raised your brow before sliding your mouth off of his dick with a messy wet pop. He let out an involuntary whine at the loss of contact. 

“It’s okay. Answer it.” 

“I—uh…okay,” he stammered, before reaching for his phone again. His thumb slid the answer button across the screen. 

“Ne, Min-woo Hyung,” he cleared his throat, fumbling with the buckle of his belt that hung open below his hips now. 

Taehyungie! You left already?

“Ah, yeah, I'm sorry, early morning for me tomorrow.” He looked at you apologetically as he spoke; you were straddling the floor with your skirt riding up your thigh. Tae swallowed the lump in his throat. 

Ahh, shame I didn’t get to say bye. Did you have fun? 

“Yeah, it was fun,” he mumbled. He ran his hand through his hair awkwardly, desperate to keep the conversation short. 

You flipped your hair over your shoulder and looked up at him with an evil smile, before picking up his still twitching cock again and flicking your tongue mercilessly over his flushed tip. 

Taehyung’s eyes went wider than ever as he realized what you were doing. You took him back into your mouth and swallowed the tip, engorging him in your saliva. Your one hand came up to take care of the rest of his length, pumping slowly and firmly as you milked him into your mouth. His mouth fell open as he watched you. You were a witch.

Anyway, how was Soo-min! Did you get a chance to introduce yourself? 

You heard the mention of her name through the receiver and smirked. Your tongue twisted itself around the shaft of his cock, licking a fat, wet stripe up the base. 

Taehyung stifled a groan and pulled his phone away from his face to try to hide his noises. His brows furrowed together in protest as you pulled your tongue away from his cock. A rope of saliva draped between your lips and the tip of his dick, before breaking. Your lips were flushed and wet, and you blinked innocently at him. 

“Don’t let me distract you,” you cooed sweetly, before dipping your head back down into him and continuing to swallow him whole. 

“Oh—fuck,” Taehyung whined, still holding his phone at arm's distance away.

Hello? Tae?

He snapped his phone back to his ear and cleared his throat again.

“Soo-min! Yes, she’s a nice girl.” 

She might be interested in seeing you again. You know, maybe not at a club next time. Min-woo laughed on the other end. 

But Taehyung wasn’t listening. He was watching you torture his cock with your lips and tongue, your pretty eyes staring up at him all innocently through your long, thick lashes. 

“Y—yeah. Maybe I’ll reach out to her.” 

No pressure, she says she didn’t really get to talk to you much tonight. It was probably my fault for trying to set this up at a club. 

Taehyung might as well have been deaf.

“No-no, I—appreciate your help, thank you.”

As long as I know you’re not feeling so lonely and that you’re doing okay, that’s all that matters to me. Right? 

You hummed sweetly at Min-woo’s brotherly love through the phone while you tormented his dongsaeng on his own couch. Taehyung’s eyes were absolutely glued to you, and he didn’t even process what Min-woo had just said to him. You cocked your head to the side sweetly as you dribbled all over his cock. Your hand kept pumping him at a painfully slow pace, and you nodded at him, motioning for him to keep talking. 

“Ye-yes. Hyung. I’m good,” Taehyung spluttered.

You okay? You sound strained. 

Taehyung’s heart raced with embarrassment, and it only fueled you more. You gave him a final lick on the tip of his cock before standing up. 

“Hmm, yes, I’m okay. I’m just…tired,” Taehyung managed, letting his eyes look anywhere else in the room for a moment to escape your spell for a moment. He was barely able to form coherent sentences with the view that he was watching. 

Maybe your job takes too much out of you, Taehyung-ssi. 

“I’m okay, thank you,” Taehyung murmured, his eyes closed now. He knew he wasn’t really making sense, but he didn’t care.

You weren’t done yet. You pushed Taehyung’s arm back a little to allow space for you to straddle him. His eyes pleaded with you as you lifted your skirt just enough to expose your soaked pussy to him. Of course, you were fucking commando. 

Taehyung felt like he could cry. He watched you with desperate eyes as you leaned back and propped yourself up with your hands behind you on his knees, and slowly started grinding yourself down against Taehyung’s bare cock. He twitched under you at the warmth of your wet pussy sliding up and down his length, his cock trapped between your heat and his own abdomen. Taehyung dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling and held his phone away from himself again, quiet whines falling helplessly from his lips. 

I’m just looking out for you, that’s all. 

The phone returned to his ear so that he could garble a reply.

“Thank you, Hyung,” he repeated, unable to think of anything else. 

You smiled down at him as you expertly rolled your hips forward, continuing to coat the underside of his cock with your warm, wet arousal. Taehyung’s mouth hung open with short pants as he watched the head of his own cock peek in and out from between your folds, milking pre cum out of his tip. Taehyung felt like screaming.

“I have to go,” Taehyung blurted out into the receiver. “Thank you, good night.” 

Okay, good n–

He had already hung up, his phone slipping out of his hands and hitting the ground. 

“So cute,” you cooed, continuing your motion. “You have your friend worried for you. Such a sweet boy.”

Taehyung nodded at your words, eyes still locked with what you were doing to him. 

You stood up and took his hand, and he stood up quickly, eager to do whatever you wanted him to do.

“Bring me to your bedroom, angel,” you said, the request sending Tae’s heart soaring. 

He walked with your hand in his, guiding you gently to his bedroom door. The door swung open, and he immediately got onto the large king bed, draped neatly in dark gray sheets and a little mountain of pillows.

Taehyung laid patiently on his back at the end of his bed as he watched you tug your top up over your shoulders and toss it to the ground. You looked so perfect in just your skirt, your sheer thigh-high pantyhose, and your bra. 

“Take those off,” you instructed, taking a step towards the bed. 

Taehyung quickly loosened his tie from his neck and unbuttoned his shirt all the way to the bottom before tossing them both to the floor. His trousers slid off a moment later, crumpling down to the ground. His cock sprang free, smacking himself in the abdomen with vigor.

You hummed to yourself at the view of his naked body. Of all the qualities that made him pathetic, his body definitely wasn’t one of them. 

You straddled him now, sliding further up his torso, your legs now on either side of his neck and sitting gently on his chest, pinching him between your thighs. 

“Let’s take these off too, hmm?” Your fingers reached for his glasses that now sat a little too low on his nose. 

He nodded, and you removed his glasses from his sweet little face. Except, in place of where his puppy eyes usually were, pitch-black pupils pierced through you with burning desire. Taehyung was typically calm and controlled, but his eyes were so blown out with lust that he looked like he had transformed into something else entirely. He looked like a starved dog—he might as well have been drooling. 

He was too far gone to feel ashamed now. In the everyday world, he was a quiet, polite, boring man who, other than sometimes getting hit on by the barista, lived his life completely under the radar. His friends and family treated him like he was fragile, like he couldn’t handle a thing. A ghost, a Clark Kent. 

That’s why he was addicted to you. Because while other people spoke up to him as to not hurt his feelings, and against all his wishes to keep his secret down, you knew he was a pathetic, desperately horny submissive man who needed to be bossed around and would let you step on him if you wanted to. Taehyung wasn’t a particularly exciting man, but you brought out all of his deepest desires every time you saw him, whether he liked it or not. 

You smiled and licked your lips at the sight of him. This was the man you loved fucking. Not the 5’10” nerd who spoke cautiously to everyone and apologized way too much, you knew how to unlock the man inside that ate your pussy until you tapped out and literally begged to fuck you over a balcony at the last New Year’s Eve party. 

Taehyung’s hands came up to give your bum a careful squeeze, coaxing you to lower yourself onto his mouth. 

“Baby, I’m going to make a mess of your pretty bedsheets,” you said with a small laugh. 

“Please,” he murmured, nudging you to straddle his face. “Ruin anything you want. Just let me taste you.” 

You scooted a little closer, and he lifted his head off the pillow to close the distance himself, so desperate. You let out a sharp exhale as he connects his mouth with your soaked pussy on his own. 

Taehyung ate pussy like it was his last meal. He had been practically itching for this all night, and when given the chance, he was going to cherish the taste of you.

You let out a breathy moan at the contact, his tongue lapping up your arousal in firm, long licks. His jaw closed and opened against the rhythm of your hips, drinking you up with such determination. Your fingers flew to his hair, gripping firmly enough to use as leverage as you ground your hips down against his mouth, earning a muffled moan from the man below you. 

Taehyung’s eyes were shut, and his jaw flexed as he continued to consume you, alternating between tongue-fucking you and lapping against your clit like a lollipop. Your moans fell uncontrollably from your mouth, gasoline to his fire. He pressed his nose against your folds, your symphony of sounds like praise to his humble ears. He felt like he could drown in your wetness, but he’d rather die than stop now. He was going to burrow his face so deep into your pussy that he’d taste you for the rest of the week. In this moment, he was all yours and he wanted you to absolutely use him.

His lips closed in around your clit, and he sucked gently on your clit in soft, quick pulses, making you arch your back and falter on your hips. The change in sensation made your knees buckle slightly, and your weight pinned Taehyung down into his mattress a little further, earning another moan from him into your pussy.

His hands came up to hold your hips and bum, holding you firmly against him as he continued to serve you. He held you tilted against his mouth like he was drinking out of you like a bowl, the sweetest thing he has ever been honoured to enjoy.

You felt a familiar knot form in your lower stomach, but you weren’t ready to give him the satisfaction of cumming on his face just yet.

You propped yourself up on your knees, giving him some air. He didn’t want it. He lifted his head again, trying to delve his tongue back into you, but you gently rocked your hips back to give yourself more separation. 

Taehyung looked up at you with his pitch-dark, puppy eyes, pinned underneath your legs. His hair was sticking up in odd directions, and his lips were swollen and pink. His entire chin was dripping.

“More,” he pleads. “Please let me have more.” 

“You look so pretty for me,” you praised him, and he licked his lower lip, awaiting for you to give him something more. 

Your thumb slid down to his chin, giving it a lazy wipe, before planting a firm open-mouthed kiss on his lips. Your tongue danced against his, muffling his moans with your own. You pressed down on his chin to guide him to open up his mouth. 

“Open up for me, darling,” you whispered, and he obeyed, his mouth open for you, his tongue ever so slightly peeking out. 

You leaned down towards him and brought your face so close to his, and let a warm pool of saliva drip off your tongue and land into his mouth. You spit gently into his mouth, and Taehyung whimpered at the sensation, swallowing your saliva with a soft groan. 

“Mm, Y/N,” he groaned, shaking his head in pure torment. “You’re so fucking hot.” 

He tilted his chin up towards you, silently begging for another kiss. You smiled and leaned back down, swiping your tongue along his lower lip and letting him whine against your lips. You let another pool of saliva drip into his mouth, and Taehyung drank it off your tongue. He was a puddle underneath you.

“Please let me keep going,” he begged quietly. “Let me taste you.”

“Such a good boy, hmm? Let’s not hurt your neck, baby. Get on the floor.” You lifted your leg over his face to free him from your straddle. 

Taehyung obeyed immediately, getting up off the covers and kneeling down at the foot of his own bed. The cold hardwood floor pressed against his knees, but he couldn’t notice a thing other than the way you undressed yourself in front of him, on his own bed. First, your bra unhooked, then your skirt slid down, until you were in nothing but your sheer thigh highs. His cock throbbed against his abdomen, bouncing gently against his toned stomach as he twitched at the sight of your naked body. 

You took a moment to look at him. The only light came from the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the soft light emphasized every line and crevasse of his toned, built body. His hair was now dampened with sweat, his bangs stuck messily against his forehead. His eyes were wide and begging, and still dark as ever. He was on his knees with his hands behind his back, patiently waiting for you to let him please you. 

“You look so beautiful, Y/N,” he said softly, and you smiled and scooted closer to him. He gave you a soft kiss on your leg, trying to coax you to let him touch you.

“You’re going to eat my pussy from the back like a good boy, hm?” You turned around on your knees and bent forward with your bum in the air, teasing him with the view of you spread open in doggy-style in front of him.

“Yes, fuck—yes Y/N,” he spoke like he was going to cry. 

“And you’re going to touch yourself while you do it, hm? Let me hear how much I turn you on,” you almost smiled at your own torture.

“Yes–yes.” 

You smirked at him before letting him crawl up to you on his knees, and he closed his eyes as he let his tongue drag a slow, firm stripe up your fold from your clit to your opening. 

You let out a breathy moan, earning a whine from the shy, muscular man kneeling like a beggar behind you.

Taehyung was an obedient man. He kept his hands to himself as he licked you out, one hand slowly pumping himself as he felt you clench around his tongue. He groaned into your heat, the vibrations sending a chill up your spine. You moaned into the duvet as he continued to devour you, the change in angle making all the difference. Your clit was more sensitive now, and every flick of his tongue drew a whimper from your mouth. 

His hand was moving faster on himself now, and you could feel the rhythm of his hand rocking against the bed. His moans were muffled as he pushed his face in deeper, his mouth reaching every inch of your trembling pussy from top to bottom. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his breath hitching as he jerked himself off to the taste of you. “So–so sweet. So good. Let me make you cum, please. Please, baby. Please–fuck–let me spoil your pretty pussy.” 

Contrary to his everyday personality, Taehyung was awfully vocal with you. He was too shy to even use nicknames with you, but behind closed doors, he was just as dirty as you. As he neared his orgasm, his words got filthier, and he became more vocal about exactly what he wanted to do for you. 

The bed rocked a little harder at the pace that Taehyung was pumping himself, his moans spilling out clumsily. You could tell he was close.

“Your cunt is so good to me–fuck–so pretty. Cum on my tongue, please, baby. Fuck–let me–let me have it.” Taehyung was about to explode.

You took that as your cue to back off from his tongue. He let out a whimper in protest, leaning forward to try to get one last kiss in as you crawled further up the bed. 

“Come here,” you said breathily, the command in your voice growing weaker and more urgent. “Lie on your back.” 

He practically leaped up onto the bed, lying down against his own pillow in the centre of the bed. You climbed over him again, this time straddling his waist. His eyes looked at you wide and desperate, like a puppy begging for a treat. Taehyung wasn’t too convincing with his words at times, but his eyes did everything for you.  

“I’m going to ride you nice and slow, baby.” You leaned up onto your knees, sliding your dripping wet pussy up the length of his cock pressed against his abdomen one more time. “Just how you like it, hm?”

“God, yes.” 

“But you’re not going to touch me. Okay, angel?” 

Taehyung looked at you in disbelief. You were towering over him, naked and perfectly dewy with sweat and your body oil. Your hair was slightly messy but still fell around your face in a way that made his cock twitch, and your eyeliner was still perfect as ever.

How the fuck was he not supposed to touch you?

You sank down onto him, bottoming out as the tip of his cock rammed into your g-spot. You both moaned in unison before you propped yourself onto your arms and started slowly rolling your hips up and down his length.

“God, your pussy is so perfect,” Taehyung cursed under his breath, eyes dropping down to watch you slide down on his dick once more. All the shyness in him had dissolved the moment his cock delved into the warmth of your wet heat.

You gently picked up the speed, reaching a pace that matched the whimpers that were spilling out of the mouth of the closed-eyed man under you. 

“I need more,” he whined. “Please, I want–please. Need you to fuck me like I’m a good boy.” 

You smirked and lifted onto your knees before forcing yourself back down onto him, the tip of his cock ramming into you with a force that made him recoil upwards. 

“That’s it, baby. Oh my god,” he murmured, his lips pink and swollen as he bit down onto them between moans.

Taehyung let out a cry, and his hands came up to hold you by the waist, helping himself to more. You were so lost in the rhythm of riding him that you didn’t notice the rule break right away. He pushed your hips down harder against his, letting the tip of his dick knock feverishly against your g-spot. So fucking good.

You realized what he was doing a moment later, and immediately, you grabbed his wrists. His eyes cracked open, and you could tell that he didn’t feel so bad about disobeying you.

“What did I just say, Tete?” That nickname made his cock twitch inside of you. He loved the way his name rolled off your tongue. “You’re not very good at following instructions tonight, are you?”

He shook his head, cheeks flushed and only half listening. He was drunk off your pussy, rutting his hips up into yours continually, trying to feel that sensation of you milking his needy cock again. But you weren’t going to let it slide. 

You leaned over the bed and reached for the tie that he had loosened and cast off to the side earlier, the knot still tied loosely. 

“Hands,” you ordered. 

Taehyung felt his heart race in anticipation. Like a good boy, he held his wrists out to you, letting you wrap his tie around them, before you pulled the knot tighter again. The restraint of his hands made his head spin; he was so vulnerable under you, and he loved it. You could do anything to him, and he’d take it eagerly. 

“Since you can’t fucking control yourself,” you whispered, and Taehyung’s expression was a mix of guilt and a hint of cockiness. You knew he loved this.

The knot felt tight but secure around his wrists, and you took his two bound hands and pinned them up above his head. His arms flexed as he let you held him down, the tendons of his forearms protruding in a way that made you want to bite them. 

You continued rolling your hips against his, picking up the pace again, and his orchestra of whimpers and moans continued. Taehyung was, obviously, much stronger than you. But his arms stayed put anyway, the weight of your arm forcing them down just enough to drive him over the edge. 

The room was quiet, and the only thing that could be heard was the sound of wet skin on skin, the erotic sounds coming from Taehyung’s lips against the accompaniment of the city sounds down below. 

Taehyung’s head knocked against his pillow helplessly as he fought against the restraint of the tie around his wrists, wanting to touch you, but also loving the sensation of being held down. He bucked his hips upwards like a dog in heat, matching your tempo as your ass smacked against his thighs.

“Yeah, angel? Are you enjoying being held down? Such a naughty boy,” you hummed sweetly. “You like this?”

“Love this, love–you,” he groaned, eyes still completely shut, his jaw clenched. Your breath hitched for a moment at the sudden sweet words, but you maintained pace.

Taehyung was too pussy drunk to think straight, just an endless stream of praise and sweet talking fell from his lips as you milked him closer to his demise. The knot in his stomach grew tighter, and his abdomen was fully flexed, his V-line prominent and hauntingly beautiful in the dim light.

“May I–please–may I cum inside your pretty pussy, baby,” he breathed. “Let me cum inside your perfect pussy?” His eyes were open again now, and they bore into you, pleading with you. 

How could you say no to those pretty eyes?

You leaned down towards him, letting his hips rut upwards and fuck you from below. 

“Go ahead, baby. Take what you need,” you whispered into his ear. The coil in his stomach snapped.

Taehyung’s orgasm crashed over him like a wave, and his vision blanked out for a moment as all he felt was euphoric bliss.

“Fuuuck,” he cried out, his arms still pinned under your hands. “God–Y/N, I’m–cumming.”

You rolled your hips against his, letting him ride out his orgasm underneath you. His skin glistened with sweat, his brows knitted together as he chased his climax.

“Y/N, I’m so–fuck–” he spluttered, your name falling from his lips over and over again like it was a prayer. 

He thrust his hips upwards a few more times before he slowed his pace and held his hands up towards you, silently begging you to remove the tie. You smiled and loosened the knot before giving him a sweet kiss on his wrists. 

“Good boy,” you whispered. “You did so well.” 

Something in his demeanour had changed. His desperation had turned to insistence, authority.

“We’re not done, though, are we, baby?” He growled beneath you before helping you up off his hips. You let out a laugh as he picked you up and moved you to the end of his bed, letting you bend over on your hands and knees.

If there was one thing Taehyung couldn’t get enough of more than going down on you, it was bending you over.

He towered over you now, his cock still hard as ever. He slid his cock right back inside you so easily, the different angle hitting your g-spot in a way that made you yelp. 

“I need to feel you cum on this cock, sweet girl,” he murmured. “I need it.” 

You were worn out, and your knees felt weak, but your pussy clenched around him feverently. Both of you moaned in chorus at the feeling of fullness inside of you. He picked up the pace again, punching the air out of your lungs with the strength of his thrusts against your backside.

“God, fuck, Tae!” you cried out, your face buried into his duvet. He loved seeing you like this for him, bent over and taking him. This view kept him crawling back to you over and over again. 

His whimpers grew more pathetic and high-pitched; he was combating his own overstimulation to please you. Your pussy milked him tightly as he felt you near your orgasm, and the intensity made him want to cry. His head fell forward, his face in a grimace, teeth clenched, and brows furrowed. Despite the hisses that escaped his mouth, his hips continued at a torturous pace, rocking you nearer and nearer to your bliss. 

His fingers came down to caress your clit, rubbing quick circles and pressing with just enough pressure to make your legs tense up. 

“God, don’t stop, Tae,” you begged. “Keep fucking me, just like this.” 

“Anything you want, baby,” he cooed, his other hand holding you around your waist, pinning your body against his tighter. 

Taehyung winced as he fucked you deeper, his cock begging for the friction to stop, but his mind was sharpened, only knowing the goal of making you finish all over him. He dug his teeth hard into his lower lip as he pushed through his own sensitivity, determined to please the beautiful vixen spread across his bed. 

Your vision was going blurry now; you couldn’t even think straight. The fire in your core burned hotter, and you felt your orgasm about to tip you over the edge.

“I’m–I’m cumming,” you cried out, as the electricity flooded your body. Every part of you shook, your legs tensed as Taehyung railed you through your climax.

“God, fuck! Taehyung,” you were drunk off his cock, letting him split you open as you felt your body turn to jelly. He rocked his hips against yours a few more times before he slowed his pace and collapsed down onto the bed together with you. 

The two of you were sprawled across his bed, his body on top of yours, and your chests rose and fell heavily in tandem, both panting in the aftermath. Taehyung’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him for comfort as he came down from his high. He stayed inside of you, a comfort you allowed and appreciated while your head spun. 

“Here, baby, let me.” Taehyung planted a kiss on your shoulder before he gently pulled himself out, a spill of your fluids mixed, dripping out of you slowly and trickling down your leg.

“Mm, that’s hot,” he murmured to himself, eyeing his own climax dripping out of you like icing off a cinnamon bun.

He slid two fingers gently between your folds, collecting the sticky white fluid up on his fingers, before opening his mouth and wrapping his lips around his digits. He let out a soft moan at the taste of you and him, a cocktail that he was addicted to. You watched in awe as he licked his fingers clean, before rounding your shoulder and lifting your chin towards his, planting a long, sweet kiss on your lips. 

When he pulled away, you looked a little shocked. This was the type of man he really was, and he only ever wanted to show you this side of him. He gave you a small smirk. Was that cockiness behind those eyes? 

“Don’t move,” Taehyung whispered, and disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, leaving you collapsed and messy on his bedsheets. Your eyes slowly blinked as you took in the silence that lured you into slumber. The room was…strangely familiar. Safe. The softness of the duvet against your cheek comforted you as you came back to reality. The sheets smelled like him, a mix of his scent and the bodywash he had in his shower. 

When he returned, he had changed into a pair of light gray sweatpants and a T-shirt that fit him way too nicely for you to ignore. He held a warm, wet washcloth and lowered himself to his knees again to clean you up. He was gentle, careful not to stimulate you again, and he wiped you clean, your stomach, your bum, your back, and you felt a little flutter in your chest. 

You two had only ever hooked up in inconvenient places. Here, you were safe and warm on his bed, and he was taking such good care of you: something he was never able to do for you before. 

Your original top and skirt were tossed to the ground, and Taehyung collected them for you. The late night had grown colder, and Taehyung had brought you one of his own hoodies. 

“You didn’t come with a jacket,” he mumbled as he held the sweater towards you. “Please, take it. I don’t want you to be cold.” 

You would have turned it down, but you knew that you had ruined your skirt tonight, and you did not want to climb back into your uncomfortable corset again. Against your own typical independence, you lazily threw your arms towards him with a pout, welcoming him to drape the hoodie over your naked body for you. His eyes lit up a little, but he remained calm and quiet. He draped the large hoodie over your body, and its warmth enveloped you like a blanket, like an embrace. The familiar scent of his deodorant tickled your senses.

“This is okay?” he murmured as he guided the hoodie down your body until you were fully covered. You nodded and got up off his bed before heading over to the door of his balcony. 

The city was quieter at this hour, and the cool air felt good against your cheeks and your bare legs. Taehyung appeared a few moments later, in a cardigan and his glasses again and holding a small glass ashtray, placing it on the ledge for you. The two of you stood next to each other, staring out at the large city that stretched below you, listening to the cars and hum of the urban sprawl together.

Taehyung was sipping a glass of water, and he handed it to you, urging you to take a sip. You accepted.

“Great job tonight,” you said to him with a small breathless laugh, handing his glass of water back to him. A smile spread across his face as he took back his drink.

“You too,” he said with a smug laugh. His cockiness only really ever came out around you when you two were alone. You liked that he felt comfortable enough around you to be himself.

A silence fell between you two, comfortable and easy. 

“Can I take you to dinner?” 

“For what?” 

“I…I want to see you again.” 

“That’s sweet,” you began. “But you don’t want to take that Soo-min girl to dinner?”

He shook his head ferverently. 

“No,” he said with an awkward smile. “I only want to see you.”

You looked up at him with sympathy in your eyes. He looked at you with pure, unfiltered honesty; it almost made you feel bad for him.

“Tae,” you drawled. “We’ve talked about this before.” 

Your words were only a dull pain in his chest—he knew this already. He knew you didn’t love him when you flirted with him, when you spent your night with him, when you let him bend you over your friend’s balcony. A younger him would have let the ache bother him, but it only fueled him more now. 

You turned to step back inside to grab your bag. Taehyung was one step ahead of you: he pulled out a pack of his own cigarettes before you could find yours, and slid one in between your lips. He didn’t smoke, but he knew the brand you enjoyed and had kept the pack from ages ago when he bought it for you. The small gesture made you smile.

“I know. I’m not the man for you.”

“Mhm.”

“But, what if you’re the woman for me?” 

You laughed, letting him light the end of your cigarette for you as you took your initial drag. 

“There’s not another girl in your life, Tete? Someone who loves you and treats you sweetly?”

He shoved his hand in his pocket and fluffed the back of his hair. 

His silence was your answer: he avoided other women because he was only ever thinking about you.

“Or do you only chase the one who only lets you see her after dark and uses your body like a toy?” 

Tae felt his cheeks get warm, and he adjusted his glasses. 

“I only…want you,” he spoke towards the ground. 

A silence hung in the air as you looked over the balcony at the city below you, nursing the cigarette between your fingers. There was a shift in your expression, like a hint of pity, or something else. Taehyung watched you intently.

“I’m free on Thursday evening. You can pick me up at 8.” 

His eyes widened at your words. You have never said yes to him a day in his life for the whole time you’ve known him. Taehyung’s heart soared at your approval, but he knew better than to scare you off. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Okay.” 

You continued to finish your cigarette and Taehyung leaned over the balcony ledge with you, both of you enjoying each other’s presence and the quiet night. 

“Stay the night?” Taehyung managed to ask, all his shame and pride washed down the drain. 

You turned to look at him, cigarette smoke floating prettily around your face as you flicked some ash off the end. 

“I can run you a bath, and I have some pyjamas I can lend you, they’re comfortable, I promise—“

“Taehyung.” 

God, his whole chest ached at the way you said his name, like it was a command. 

“I’ll see you later,” you smiled sweetly at him as you ashed your cigarette out into the little glass tray he had set out for you. 

Taehyung walked you to his door and helped you back into your heels before handing you your purse. You pulled the hood of his sweater up over your hair, cocooning you in its warmth. 

You hadn’t even left yet, and he felt his chest draining.

You unlocked his front door before turning back towards him, giving him a sweet pat on the cheek. Taehyung’s eyes danced desperately all over your face, memorizing the image of you in his hoodie, comfy, messy-haired, and leaving his apartment. His heart thumped in his chest like he was going to die: it was like his withdrawals began immediately. 

“Try not to miss me too much, Tete. I’ll see you in a few days. Have a good night,” you gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek before opening and disappearing out his door.

It was far too late for that. You were embedded into his skin, his tongue, his consciousness. He wasn’t going to sleep until after he saw you again. 

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

God nerdy Tete is so hot and pathetic it’s perfect

The wedding had been beautiful.

Too beautiful.

White roses lined the aisle like a dream you weren’t sure belonged to you. Silk dresses, soft music, champagne that sparkled under chandelier lights, the kind of luxury you only ever saw in magazines. Everyone had smiled and whispered that the two of you looked perfect together, their voices sugary sweet.

You’d smiled too. But your palms were sweating inside Taehyung’s warm, steady grip.

Arranged marriages weren’t supposed to feel like this.

Not like a fairytale.

Not like falling into something soft and terrifying all at once.

But Taehyung leaned in that day, his breath brushing your cheek, eyes wide and earnest like he was promising you the world.

“I won’t ever touch you until you ask me to. Until you want it.” he murmured, voice low enough for only you. “I promise.”

Your breath caught.

You’d managed a tiny nod. A whispered “okay” that came out more like a sob.

And two months later… that promise still stood. A quiet barrier between you—warm, gentle… maddening.

He kept it in the sweetest, most devastating ways.

Every morning he kissed your forehead before leaving for work, a soft “Morning, sweetheart,” whispered against your skin, leaving you blinking up at him like a flustered fool.

He back-hugged you while you brushed your teeth, chin heavy on your head, humming half-asleep into your hair. “Mm… you smell nice,” he’d mumble, not even realizing he was killing you slowly.

He carried all the grocery bags with one hand, veins bulging, T-shirt stretching over his shoulders.

You’d stare.

He’d catch you staring.

And instead of teasing, he’d just smile. “You okay, baby?”

He let you fall asleep on his chest during movie nights, fingers absent-mindedly threading through your hair until you were drooling on his hoodie. “You’re so cute when you sleep,” he’d whisper, brushing your bangs back.

And every night, every single night, he’d pull you close under the covers, strong arms locking around your waist, body warm behind yours — and whisper into your neck, “Goodnight, wifey.”

You were drowning in him. Completely, helplessly drowning.

And he didn’t even know.

Because lately… your body had started betraying you.

The way he smelled when he came home, it made heat curl low in your belly. His deep voice when he said “baby or sweetheart or wifey” made you choke on your own air. The way his T-shirt clung to his back after a workout left your pulse hammering in places you didn’t admit.

You wanted him. God, you wanted him so badly.

But you were shy. Painfully, frustratingly shy.

So you did the only logical thing your shy, horny, newlywed brain could produce. You stole his clothes.

At first it was innocent.

An oversized white button-up you found in the laundry basket. You wore it while making tea, sleeves brushing your thighs, and felt… safe.

Wrapped in him.

Then it was one of his gray hoodies — so big it almost reached your knees. You curled up on the couch, tugging the sleeves over your hands, whispering into the collar, “Ugh… why do you smell so good?”

Then came the black crewneck. The one you knew he loved. The one that still smelled like his cologne even after washing. You wore it while working on your laptop, fingers brushing the fabric whenever you missed him, which was embarrassingly often.

You wore them when he wasn’t home.

Always when he wasn’t home.

Curled on the couch… On the bed… Sometimes standing in front of the mirror, pretending his arms were wrapped around your waist instead of fabric and imagination.

It was ridiculous. It was addictive. It was comfort. It was want.

And today… today you’d gone too far.

You finished your remote work early, shut your laptop with a satisfied sigh, and padded to the bathroom. A hot shower sounded like heaven, steam curling around you, loosening your muscles, making you feel warm and soft and reckless.

You stepped out wrapped in a towel, droplets sliding down your skin, hair dripping over your shoulders. You padded into the bedroom, humming under your breath, still flushed from the heat.

Your eyes landed on his shirt.

Not just any shirt, the oversized black one he always wore on lazy Sundays. Soft, worn-out cotton. Smelled like him even from across the room.

You stared at it.

Then at the towel barely staying on your body.

Then back at the shirt.

Your pulse stuttered.

“…Screw it,” you whispered.

The towel dropped to the floor.

You slipped the shirt on.

The sleeves swallowed your arms completely, the hem brushing mid-thigh. One shoulder slid down no matter how many times you tugged it up.

You looked tiny. Drowned. His.

It felt like he was wrapping himself around you.

You caught your reflection in the mirror, flushed cheeks, wet hair, bare legs peeking out beneath his shirt... and your breath hitched.

You held it against your chest, whispering to no one, “…Is it bad if I love this more than my clothes?”

You whispered, breath shaky. “Tae… what are you doing to me?”

You twirled in front of the mirror like a happy idiot, lifting your arms so the loose fabric floated around you. Then you hugged yourself tight, burying your face in the collar, breathing him in.

“Ugh... Why does this feel better than my own clothes?” you groaned into the fabric. “God… he’d laugh at me so hard if he saw me doing this.”

You were too busy cuddling his shirt to notice anything else.

Not the front door unlocking. Not his footsteps in the hall. Not the soft crinkle of the bouquet he’d brought to surprise you.

You only heard the quiet creak of the bedroom door.

And then, “Oh... My... God...”

The flowers slipped from his hand and hit the carpet.

You spun around so fast you almost tripped.

Taehyung stood in the doorway, completely stunned. Still in his work clothes —white button-up rolled up his arms, slacks hugging his thighs, hair a little messy like he’d rushed home.

His eyes dragged down your body slowly.

Too slowly. Taking in the sight.

His shirt. Your bare legs. Your flushed cheeks.

“Taehyung—!” you squeaked, trying to cover yourself even though his shirt already hung past mid-thigh. “You… you’re early!”

He didn’t answer. For a moment he didn’t even breathe.

Then he shut the door behind him, leaning against it, arms crossing over his chest. A slow, wicked smile curved his lips.

“…Having fun without me?”

Your soul left your body.

“I... I was just...” you stammered, voice going embarrassingly high. “I thought it would be… fun? Maybe? A little? I just... I don’t know!”

He pushed off the door, walking toward you with lazy, confident steps like a man who already owned the room and your heartbeat.

“Fun,” he repeated, voice dropping into that deep honey tone that always made your knees weak. “Baby… you’re wearing my shirt, looking like that… and you call it fun?”

You swallowed hard. “I didn’t think you’d see me…”

He stopped inches away, towering over you, and slid both hands around your waist, fingers splaying possessively over the fabric of his own shirt on your body. His breath was warm against your neck as he leaned in.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You can have my whole closet if this is how you look in my clothes.”

His thumb lifted your chin, forcing your shy gaze to meet his dark one.

“Have you tried on my shirts before?” he asked softly.

You froze. Then nodded slowly.

“Yeah?” he breathed, eyes darkening instantly. “How many times?”

“I... I don’t know,” you admitted, cheeks burning. “A few. Maybe more.”

Taehyung let out a low, hungry sound that made your stomach flip.

“You should’ve told me, sweetheart,” he whispered against your lips. “I would’ve helped you undress… and helped you try every single one… slow and careful.”

A tiny whimper escaped your throat.

He smiled, loving it.

With gentle pressure on your waist, he walked you backward step by step until the back of your knees hit the mattress. His body stayed close, heat radiating through the shirt you stole.

He ran his hand down your thigh, stopping at the hem of the shirt. His fingers brushed your bare skin, making you gasp.

“My shy little thief,” he murmured, kissing your cheek, then your jaw. “Stealing my clothes… stealing my scent… stealing my sanity... stealing my self-control…”

You trembled in his hands.

“And you know the worst part?” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. “I don’t want any of it back.”

You were shaking in his arms, cheeks burning hot, voice barely above a whisper. “I like how you smell…” you admitted, burying your face against his chest. “It… it makes me feel close to you.”

Taehyung froze. His breath hitched, like your words had punched the air out of his lungs. For a single heartbeat, he didn’t move.

Then he kissed you.

Hard. Messy. Hungry. Desperate.

He pressed his lips to yours, tongue sliding against yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lip until you whimpered into his mouth. One hand fisted in your hair, tilting your head exactly where he wanted it. The other gripped your waist, holding you as if you could disappear.

He broke away for just a second, growling against your lips, “Two months of waiting… baby... and you say that now?”

Before you could answer, he kissed you again, flipping you until his knees hit the bed. He sank onto it first, pulling you down so you straddled his lap, thighs pressed against either side of him.

The oversized shirt rode up immediately, pooling around your hips. You tried to tug it down, embarrassed, but he caught your wrists with his one hand, holding them gently behind your back with one hand.

“No more hiding,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “Let me look at you.”

His free hand slid under the shirt, palm gliding over your waist, thumb brushing against the underside of your breast. You gasped when his fingers circled your hardening nipples, teasing slowly.

You arched into his touch, shivering at the sensation.

You moved instinctively, trying to ease the ache in your core. The friction of your bare heat against his rigid pants made both of you freeze.

Taehyung groaned low, hips jerking up slightly. You felt him... thick, impossibly hard... beneath you. Your chest tightened with the knowledge that you had already made him like this.

His fingers dug into your hips, holding you firmly.

You rocked again, tiny and hesitant.

“Baby…” he warned, forehead pressing to yours, voice rough. “If you keep moving like that—”

You tested him again, slower this time, watching his face twist with pleasure and restraint. His grip tightened on your wrists, almost bruising.

“Wearing my clothes is cute…” he whispered, lips brushing your ear, hot breath against your skin. “But sitting here… without panties?”

He released your wrists to cup your ass, spreading you slightly. You gasped, nails digging into his shoulders, as your next movement ground against the hard length of him.

He growled into your neck, teeth grazing the tender skin.

“…that’s going to be a problem, sweetheart.”

You felt how soaked you already were, sliding over him effortlessly. The fabric of his slacks now dark and ruined where you’re pressed together. Every tiny movement sent sparks shooting up your spine.

“Taehyung...” you whimpered, unsure if you were begging or warning.

“I know,” he breathed, guiding your hips in a slow, filthy grind. “I know, baby. I’ve got you.”

He let you move against him, letting you find the rhythm, swallowing your moans with his mouth. “You feel so good like this…” he murmured, voice rough, teeth grazing your jaw.

“Taehyung… I... oh—I can’t…” you gasped, pressing closer, thighs trembling.

“Can’t what, baby?” he whispered, lips brushing your ear.

“Tell me… do you want me?”

“Yes… please…” you breathed, rocking a little harder. “I want… I need you… so bad.”

He groaned, gripping your hips tighter. “Damn, you’re so wet for me… all for me…”

“I—fuck...” you moaned, nails digging into his shoulders. “Tae… it feels so good…”

“You’re mine, baby,” he rasped, voice low and possessive. “Mine for wearing my shirt, mine for wanting me…”

Your body shivered, burning hotter with every word. Every teasing murmur from him made you ache more, and your thighs trembled uncontrollably against him.

Then he flipped you gently onto your back, crawling over you. His eyes burned black with want.

“Enough teasing,” he rasped, sliding the shirt higher. “Now… I’m going to take care of you properly.”

He lowered his lips, teeth, and hands, leaving a trail over every inch of skin the shirt exposed. His mouth pressed to your throat first, biting gently, making you gasp and whimper.

“Taehyung… ah—” you moaned, chest rising and falling.

He growled, sliding down to your collarbone, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, leaving dark, messy marks. Your fingers clawed at his shoulders as he nipped and sucked, pulling low groans from his chest.

“Fuck… you feel so good, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing below your jaw.

You shivered, tilting your head back. “Tae… more… please...”

His hands cupped your waist, thumbs teasing over your bare skin, keeping you pressed to him. Each bite, each kiss made you tremble and moan, your heat sliding over him with every tiny movement.

“God, I can't believe... you’re mine,” he groaned, lips leaving one last hickey below your jaw before capturing your mouth in another hungry kiss.

You clung to him, breathless, every moan spilling between you both, tangled, desperate, and entirely his.

When he reached the tops of your thighs, he paused, hands sliding under them, thumbs stroking the sensitive edge where leg met hip. He looked up at you, eyes dark, reverent, almost pleading.

You tried to close your legs out of pure reflex.

He didn’t let you.

“Let me see you,” he whispered again, voice cracking with awe. “Please, baby. I’ve dreamed about this.”

His big, warm palms spread you open so gently it made tears prick your eyes. The shirt had ridden up to your waist; cool air kissed your soaked core and you whimpered.

Taehyung’s breath stuttered.

“Fuck… look at you,” he breathed, voice trembling. “So pretty. So fucking perfect for me.”

He pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your left thigh, then your right, lingering, inhaling like he was addicted to the scent of your skin.

“You have no idea how many nights I’ve thought about this,” he murmured against you, lips brushing your folds with every word. “How many times I’ve jerked off imagining your taste of you on my tongue.”

A broken sound escaped your throat. He smiled, slow and filthy, then dragged his tongue up your centre in one long, deliberate lick.

You cried out, hips jerking.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he soothed, pinning your thighs wider with his shoulders. “Let me take care of you.”

The second lick was slower, parting you, savouring. The third circled your clit with his tongue and you saw stars.

“Tae—”

“Shh, I know,” he hummed, the vibration making you clench around nothing. “You taste like heaven, baby. Sweeter than I dreamed.”

He licked into you like a man starved, tongue sliding deep, curling, fucking you open while his nose nudged your clit on every stroke.

Your hands flew to his hair, tugging hard.

He moaned into you, loud and shameless.

“That’s it, pull harder. Use me.”

He sucked your clit between his lips, gentle at first, then harder, flicking the tip of his tongue in quick, ruthless circles until your thighs started shaking uncontrollably.

“Taehyung, please...”

“Please what, sweetheart?” He pulled back just enough to speak, lips shiny, eyes glazed with lust. “Please stop? Or please make you fall apart on my face?”

You couldn’t answer, only sobbed his name.

He dove back in, merciless.

Two thick fingers slid inside you without warning, curling instantly against that spot that made your back arch clean off the bed.

“Look at you,” he groaned, pumping slowly, tongue still swirling. “Taking my fingers so well. Gonna take my cock just like this, aren’t you? Gonna let me ruin this pretty little pussy while you wear my shirt?”

The dirty praise sent you spiralling.

He felt it, felt you tightening, and doubled his efforts, sucking your clit hard while his fingers fucked you faster, palm grinding against you with every thrust.

“Come for me, baby,” he growled against your folds. “Come on my tongue. Want to drink every drop.”

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave.

You screamed his name, thighs clamping around his head, hips grinding helplessly against his mouth and fingers as pleasure tore through you in violent, endless waves.

He didn’t stop.

He licked you through it, gentler now, lapping softly, coaxing every aftershock until you were a trembling, sobbing mess.

Only then did he pull back, pressing one last reverent kiss to your swollen clit that made you jolt.

He crawled up your body, face glistening, eyes wild with love and hunger.

“You okay, my love?” he whispered, voice hoarse, brushing tears from your cheeks you hadn’t realized had fallen.

You could only nod, boneless, chest heaving.

He smiled, soft and proud and utterly wrecked.

“Good girl,” he murmured, kissing you slow and deep, letting you taste how completely you’d undone him. “Because I’m nowhere near done worshipping you.”

His lips were swollen, his chest rising hard, breath shaky. You were still trembling from the orgasm he had just pulled out of you, thighs messy, his shirt bunched beneath your ribs like a reminder of everything you had just shared.

Taehyung hovered above you, braced on his forearms, and simply stared.

“Look at you,” he whispered, voice completely ruined. “My pretty baby… wearing my shirt… shaking because of me.”

You tried to hide your face in the pillow, flustered. He didn’t let you.

His fingers caught your chin gently, but firmly enough to keep you with him. “No hiding,” he whispered. “Not tonight… not from me.”

His nose brushed yours, soft and warm and intimate. “You okay? Still right here with me?”

You nodded, though your throat felt tight. “I’m okay. I… I want you. All of you.”

His eyes fluttered shut like the words physically hit him. “God,” he breathed, voice cracking. “You can’t say things like that when I’m trying to stay gentle.”

He kissed you softly, slow presses of his mouth that made your chest ache. Then deeper... warm tongue, soft teeth, hungry breath, until your head spun.

You felt him hard against your thigh, thick and hot through his slacks. Your hips moved without thinking.

He broke the kiss with a shaky hiss. “Baby… wait, I need to—”

He reached for the drawer, one hand still cupping your cheek like you were fragile. The condom packet trembled between his fingers. Seeing him nervous, made your heart squeeze.

You sat up a bit, fingers curling into the open fabric of his shirt. “Let me see you too.”

He let you push the shirt down his arms. Golden skin... Sharp collarbones... V-line peeking out under his belt. You followed that faint line with your fingertip. He shivered.

“Cold?” you teased softly.

“No,” he breathed out a tiny, shy laugh. “Just trying not to lose it before I’m even inside you.”

He stood only long enough to shove his pants and briefs down, kicking them aside carelessly.

Your breath caught.

He was beautiful. Thick, flushed, already leaking for you.

He rolled the condom on with slightly clumsy fingers, muttering a soft “shit” when it snagged.

Then he was back over you... warm, solid, settling between your open thighs like he had always belonged there.

“Tell me again,” he whispered against your lips. “Tell me you are ready. Tell me you want this.”

“I want you, Taehyung. Please.”

He exhaled your name like a prayer and lined himself up, dragging the head slowly through your wetness, coating himself.

Your hips jerked on instinct.

“Easy,” he soothed, kissing your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. “I’ve got you.”

He pushed in... slow, so slow, never looking away from your eyes.

The stretch burned. It burned and bloomed at the same time. You felt full, overwhelmed, breathless. A whimper escaped you, nails digging into his shoulders.

He froze instantly. “Too much? Want me to pull out?”

“No,” you gasped, half-laughing, half-moan, “just… big.”

A shaky laugh escaped him, his forehead resting on yours. “I’ll go slow. I promise.”

He pushed deeper inch by inch, letting you feel everything, until he was fully inside and both of you were trembling.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, voice cracking. “You’re so tight… so perfect around me.”

He stayed still, letting your body relax, kissing your eyelids, the tip of your nose, anything he could reach.

“You feel that?” he whispered, rolling his hips just a tiny bit. “That’s me inside you. I’m yours. All yours.”

You clenched without meaning to. His hips stuttered. “Fuck... Don’t do that unless you want me gone in ten seconds.”

You laughed through the haze, breath shaky. He laughed too, forehead against yours. It made everything warm, soft, safe.

He started moving... slow, deep strokes that touched every sensitive place inside you. The shirt you wore... his shirt — rode up with every thrust, exposing your stomach, ribs, the curve of your breasts.

“Look at you,” he rasped, eyes dark with emotion and heat. “So small in my clothes… taking me so well… my perfect girl... my wife.”

He kissed down your throat, sucking new marks beside the ones he had left earlier, kissing the sting after each one.

“I love seeing you like this,” he whispered against your skin. “Knowing you wear my things… think about me… get wet for me…”

Your back arched, a soft desperate sound leaving your throat.

His hand slid between your bodies, fingers pressing against your slick heat while he thrust inside you, hard and slow at first, then faster as he lost control. His thumb found your clit instantly, pressing and circling like he knew every nerve, every sensitive spot that made you shiver.

“Oh… Tae—” you moaned, head falling back against the pillow, body arching into him. “Ah… harder… please…”

He groaned, low and rough, the sound vibrating through your chest. “Fuck… you feel so good, baby… so tight, so wet…” His hips jerked violently, driving deep into you as his thumb worked magic against your clit.

You whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders. “Taehyung… I’m—oh! I’m—”

“Come for me again... baby,” he coaxed, voice soft but intense. “I want to feel it… want to feel you fall apart on me while you’re wearing my shirt.”

Everything hit you at once — his voice, his words, his body.

Your body trembled uncontrollably.

His thumb flicked faster, harder, keeping you on the edge while his thrusts became punishing, relentless. You couldn’t hold it in anymore... a shuddering gasp tore from your lips, and your slickness spurted over his fingers.

“Ohh... fuck! Taehyung! I’m... ahhhh! I’m cumming!”

He groaned, thrusting through your orgasm like he wanted to match you. “Shit… baby, look at you… so wet… so perfect…”

He groaned, his rhythm breaking. “That’s it… fuck, baby… that’s my girl…” His thrusts grew rougher, desperate, chasing the edge. “Close… baby, I’m so close—”

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, and whispered, “Come for me, Tae. I want to feel you.”

He broke.

A raw, broken moan fell from his lips as he buried himself deep, hips jerking helplessly through his orgasm, your name spilling out of his mouth like a promise.

He stayed there, chest pressed to yours, breathing hard, the room quiet except for your mixed breaths and the soft rustle of fabric against sweaty skin.

He didn’t pull out right away.

Just kissed you — slow, lazy, gentle, like he wanted to taste every emotion on your tongue. “My beautiful wife… My shy little thief… I love you so much it scares me…”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until he kissed your tears away.

Taehyung didn’t move at first.

He stayed inside you, holding you like he feared you might disappear if he let go. His arms wrapped around your shaking body, pulling you tight to his chest.

He pressed slow kisses everywhere his lips could reach... your shoulder, your temple, the corner of your lips — gentle, soft, almost shy, like he thanked your skin for letting him touch you.

When he finally slipped out, he did it carefully, his voice low and warm. “Easy, baby… I’ve got you.”

He rolled you onto his chest, settling you there like that was exactly where you belonged.

One big hand stroked your spine, steady and grounding, bringing you back from the haze. The other cupped the back of your head, his fingers combing through your hair like he tried to comfort you after a nightmare.

He slowly took off the stretched, ruined black shirt from your body, like it was something delicate and, set it aside. Then he disappeared for only a moment and returned with a warm cloth. He knelt between your thighs again, cleaning you with soft, almost trembling touches.

Every time you flinched, he whispered, “I’m sorry, sweetheart… if I was rough... I’m right here.”

He kissed the inside of your knee when you whimpered, trying to make you smile even through the soreness.

He brought you water next, held the glass to your lips. When you pouted for another sip, he gave it to you right away, wiping the tiny drop from your lip with his thumb, smiling like he fell deeper for you.

Your thighs ached, and he noticed instantly.

His hands... those gentle, patient hands, started massaging the sore muscles, slow circles, warm pressure. “I’m sorry if I was too much,” he murmured every time your breath caught.

But his voice stayed soft, full of pride and love.

He fixed your hair next, tucked it behind your ear, and kissed your cheek with an affection so pure it made your chest tighten.

Then he pulled one of his softest hoodies over your head, the one that smelled like him. It slipped to your thighs, the sleeves covering your hands entirely.

“Perfect,” he said softly, admiring you like you were his entire world wrapped in his clothes.

You hid in the hood.

He giggled — that warm, breathy little sound, and gently pulled your hands away so he could pepper your cheeks with kisses. He tucked you both under the blanket, arranging you exactly how he wanted, your leg over his hip, your cheek on his chest, his arm under your head.

Your place. Your home.

He was about to say something sweet when your stomach growled.

Loud.

You froze. Then mumbled into his chest, “Shit… I didn’t prepare anything for dinner. Now I’m hungry…”

Taehyung laughed... that deep, golden laugh that melted your heart.

“Sweetheart… you think I came home early without planning anything?”

He suddenly remembered the flowers near the door. “Oh— wait!” He stood up and grabbed them.

He held them out to you like they were precious, before again settling beside you. “I even brought flowers for you.”

Your eyes softened instantly, warmth gathering in your chest.

“And I booked a restaurant. Wanted to take you out for a date.”

You buried your face in his chest, whining softly. “I can’t walk anywhere… I’m sore…”

He kissed your forehead, smiling like he adored every bit of you.

“I know. That’s why I cancelled.” He tapped your nose gently. “And told them to send takeout instead.”

You smiled, slow and sleepy. “You spoil me…”

He pulled you closer, his voice warm and full of love. “Of course I do. You’re my wife. Now rest until the food arrives.”

You curled into him, feeling safe, loved, and treasured.

He whispered into your hair, voice low and deep, “Wear my clothes every day. And if you ever want me again… just tell me, princess. I’ll always come to you.”

OUR LOVE IN TWO LINES ── taehyung always wears his heart out on his sleeves. you get pregnant unexpectedly, why don't his emotions come rushing through as usual? @youmistme

HEAT AFTER DARK ── he’s been around forever—your brother’s best friend, charming, off-limits, and slowly getting under your skin. when a group camping trip forces you too close for comfort, the tension finally snaps. @divinelyparkjimin

COME BACK TO ME ── to see you cry hurt the deepest part of his being, he wanted to kiss away the tears and take you somewhere you would never be upset. where you would only smile and laugh. but he couldn’t, he told himself. because here you were, still crying, and his hands were void of the worlds he wanted to give to you. @bebetae

DAMN CHOCOLATES ── taehyung and channi show up to their friends christmas party in matching pajamas, expecting a cozy night of holiday chaos, however white elephant games, and laughter later- everything goes off the rails when gifts get stolen, & spicy adult chocolates missing… with taehyung eating them by accident. now he’s stuck in a hilariously awkward situation inside his pants that he definitely did not plan for, and channi is trying not to laugh at his very obvious predicament. @sntjk

HALFWAY BETWEEN THE GOLDEN HOUR AND YOUR LIPS ── nothing kim taehyung does should surprise you. he's been your best friend for the last two years and so you know his ways of passing time, including the entertainment of a large audience. so when he asks you if you just want to make out to pass the time, you shouldn't be taken so aback, but there's absolutely nothing that could’ve prepared you for what the question unfolds. @jensthwa

LET ME FOLLOW ── you disappear just before your anniversary, leaving behind a man who has survived everything except your absence. each step draws him closer to a truth he isn’t ready to face. @mrsvante

GIRL CODE ── y/n is falling for her best friends crush, but she won’t make a move because she doesn’t want to break girl code. that doesn’t stop taehyung from falling for her and trying to make a move. @allysonhope

NEXT YEAR ALL OUR TROUBLES WILL BE MILES AWAY ── determined to break down his walls as a new year’s resolution, (y/n) impulsively signs up for taehyung's art class. what follows is a series of lingering looks, whispered names, and enough "friendship energy" to make the rest of the group (specifically Jimin lmao) suspicious. from an almost kiss at a new year’s countdown to a cozy, candlelit moment during a winter storm, (y/n) and tae slowly realize that they aren't just student and teacher, but they are two people finally learning to see each other clearly. @hazytaezy

VANILLA ── taehyung is usually a very conservative person. he’s also the type of person who is not fond of PDA at all. channi however is the total opposite. she thrives for new things & experiences. she’s wild & spontaneous in every way. what happens when channi calls taehyung a “vanilla” person in bed? how would he react & would he give Into her little reckless request of doing something naughty in public sight…? @sntjk

THE THINGS WE DONT SAY UNTIL WE DO ── a quiet morning, a shift neither of them names, and a night where unspoken things finally find their shape. a slow, gentle unraveling of two people who learn each other in the small moments—soft looks, shared spaces, and the kind of closeness that sneaks up on you long before you realize it’s there. @mytaegiheart

STROKE GAME ── teasing taehyung while he's playing golf has consequences. @jungkussyficrecs

ONE OF THE BOYS ── all your life you wanted only one thing- for kim taehyung to like you. you did everything you could to make this happen, from picking up his hobbies and rejecting anything feminine. but who do you start to become when you stop trying to impress him? @littlemisskookie

WHILE YOU SLEEP ── you and your husband haven't had sex in days. both sexually frustrated, taehyung had enough of this stress pent up in him and decides to take it out on you while you sleep. @younithv

BAD DECISIONS ── drug dealer taehyung x fem reader. @n9mgi

NOBODY ELSE ── runaway lovers. @btsvt-bar

SHOW YOU I LOVE YOU ── your husband proves he is perfectly fine. @milk-moonbunnies

AFTER MIDNIGHT ── @watashijeon

CLAIR DE LUNE ── the softest taehyung smut. @gukslut

YOU CALL, I RUN ── @layover-mp7

PEELING MANDARINS ── your bi-weekly movie nights with taehyung had always been the safest part of your life, until the night a forgotten promise dragged you both to a housewarming party instead. what should have been just another evening between best friends slowly unravels when a single mandarin and one honest confession shift the air between you. after so many years of pretending nothing has changed, one night might be all it takes to finally peel back the layers. @yoongiofmine

THE ONE ── after accepting the lead role in a romance series, taehyung finds himself in a quiet rural town where, for the first time in over a decade, he’s free to exist without being recognized. It’s just his luck that the one person who finds him is the one who once knew him best. and the one he never truly had. @taevescence

FANCY DINNERS, EMOTIONAL PROPOSALS ── you and taehyung go out to dinner for your 5th anniversary of being together, but on this particular night, your boyfriend has an emotional trick up his sleeve. @kooslovv

DIAMONDS DANCING ── @layover-mp7 (we all love grills taehyung)

TOWERING HEIGHTS ── he was a sweet neighbour, a friendly face that made you feel like you weren't alone in this new city. Until one day, you accidentally uncovered what he did for work, and now he's trying his best to keep you out of his tangled mess. @layover-mp7

TOO LONG; DIDNT READ ── this is the story of how you trolled your way into taehyung’s heart. @fortunexkookie

FARM BOY ── farmertaehyung! @dreamescapeswriting

SWEET NOTHINGS ── @dreamescapeswriting

KING OF THE CLOUDS ── you were in an arranged marriage with a man you’re convinced isn’t fit to be your husband. he’s got his head too high in the clouds. @httpjeon

DRUNK LOVE ── “Jerk off for me.” @edytae

OWNER OF A LONELY HEART ── you’re still single nearly two years after breaking up with your ex, and the lack of intimacy in your life is finally starting to get to you. If only there was someone out there, someone willing to help you feel a little less... lonely. @jinfizz

RIDE WITH ME ── while on location for taehyung’s driving vlog, he shuts the camera off to make a confession. @theharrowing

MARIPOSA ── @cupoftaae

SWEETBITTER ── you always hated him, his cockiness and his teasing. but after five years when circumstances lead you to spend more time with him, you start to question your true feelings. you still can’t stand him but this time, you don’t know if it’s because of your hate or your knees. @rosedtae

DAISY ── sleeping with your infuriating, unfairly attractive rival in art school? stupid. sleeping with him without protection? even more stupid. when you became pregnant with kim taehyung’s child at 21, your young lives suddenly derailed for the worst. fulfilling your parental roles early on proved difficult, but five years later, perhaps it was time to give your complicated relationship a second chance; not only for yourselves, but for your baby daughter—daisy. @chateautae

(mini & long) SERIES

THE BRIDE ── "a former assassin awakens from a four-year coma after her ex-lover taehyung tries to kill her on her wedding day. driven by revenge for the loss of her unborn child and stolen life, she creates a hit list and embarks on a ruthless mission to take down everyone responsible." @chimcess

OUT OF LINE ── "you don't flirt back. you don't fold. and taehyung is running out of rules left to break." @jungkoode

THE HAND WHICH STILLS THE WILDEST SOUL ── “For if she doesn’t, he will never find calm. the healer and the knight, connected by fate, find peace in each other and comfort at night.” @borathae

WHITE DRESS ── being a waitress in a small town was a comfortable and familiar routine. however, when police officer kim taehyung, AKA the most annoying man in town asks you for help with a murder case, you realize your life is about to become much less mundane. @strawbarryjiminie

THINGS WE DONT SAY ── three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. but when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems. @wintaerbaer

FOREVER AND A DAY ── your lifelong friend is forced to face his true feelings for you once he breaks the number one rule of becoming friends with benefits: dont fall in love. he knows he loves you, but you on the other hand need more convincing of the most important thing: the right decision. @cupoftaae

Your husband struck fear into many on the battlefield, his eyes hooded and dark like the armor he wore. He was without mercy, the last thing you may see before he swung his sword. And the only reason the men who came across him were given the graciousness of living another day was because of you.

You, his wife, were the complete opposite of him. His hands were rough, scarred, hands meant for death, while yours were soft, gentle, hands meant for healing the world he was trained to destroy.

It was also why you were in this medic tent, only miles from where the battle was taking place.

You were the best healer of your kingdom, a title passed down generations in your bloodline. Some may call it a gift, the way you were trained to stitch up even the worst situation. And others just figured you were favored, but either way, people flocked to be seen by you, to be healed from their aches and pains. And it was your king who had asked you to be here during the war.

War wasn't a place for a woman. To be surrounded by so much death and blood. But you and the people who helped you were as crucial a part in winning this war as your husband was.

Not that Taehyung was pleased by that.

As an army general, the highest-ranking knight, Taehyung's shoulders carried the weight of fighting for his people, for his king, but most of all, for you. And it's why when severely wounded men were brought into your medical tent, lips chapped, struggling to breathe, they knew to tell you, even if it may be their last breath, that your husband loves you.

It sounds morbid, and it is, the way you tried to heal while a man blabbered, "he says he holds you in his mind always!" The man's teeth chatter, and the words swirl around your mind as you try to placate him from the adrenaline racing in his veins.

"Sir, please lie down."

"Says he will come for you!" The haunted eyes swam with fear, like his only choice was death or playing messenger that allowed him to see another day.

"Sir-"

It was an endless cycle of men wounded and shaking, grabbing onto you like a lifeline and playing as pigeons with scrolls relaying your husband's words to you.

And that's why after another long day of trying to mend the broken, you're pissed. Everyone knows whether you're wounded or not, you come to the medic tent to be seen and cleared. Everyone. No exceptions. And yet, your husband does not come.

You know better than to fear the impossible, that he may be one of the fallen. That he doesn't mean to break his promise of coming home to you.

It leaves you in a slight panic. Your mind swirling with the unthinkable as you set your shoulders back, your jaw clenching as you marched to a specific tent. His tent is one of a thousand tents in the encampment. And the one Taehyung gets to call home was one of the bigger ones, a luxury, given his higher rank and command. And as his wife, you were graced with the privilege of sharing it with your husband.

Your eyes narrow when it comes into view. A white tent dirtied by mud, secured by rope, and patrolled by foot soldiers dressed in full armor.

Your makeshift home is in the middle of the encampment, protected by many smaller ones that housed ten to twelve soldiers each, and it was guarded twenty-four hours a day. It was another thing to add to your list of annoyances, including that you'd give up your tent if it meant your people would be better off.

As you think this, you still acknowledge the foot soldiers guarding your tent with a smile, nodding your head in greeting as they stand more at attention. "My husband." You don't ask, but your voice is soft like the fur blankets provided during the winter, your only concern being to verify with your own eyes that your husband is inside and alive.

"M'lady," the soldier on the left bows his head, and you're close to just shoving past them. "Sir Kim is inside."

Oh, thank the king.

"Thank you," you flash another charming smile and give them a look soon after, "when you are done here - remember to be checked before supper."

A chorus of "yes, m'lady" rings in your ears as you move the flap of your tent back and step inside before letting it fall into place behind you.

The inside of your tent is cozy. Rugs are layered on the floor, a bed with furs was to your left, a wooden desk was to your right that held miniatures of battle strategies you did not understand, and a bathtub was in the back. It was all the privileges of your husband's rank, and you had done your best to make it a home while you both were far from your actual one.

You had watched endless nights of Taehyung leaning on the desk, going over battle tactics until the sunlight rose once more. You had given up nearly the rest of the furniture you were previously provided to the other soldiers who needed it more, and you tried not to dwell on the fact that you got to go to sleep in a bed and not in a cot like many others.

And out of habit, you slipped off your shoes barely two feet inside before your eyes met your husband's.

Taehyung stood tall in the middle of the room, fully in armor, beside the sword and shield he had left next to the desk. His hair was wavy, falling in front of his piercing eyes as he took his time taking off his armor piece by piece. He had already removed his helmet and pauldrons, moving onto his breastplate as you watched.

"You didn't get checked out." You don't greet him; instead, you close the distance between you two and help him unbuckle the straps at his waist, your eyebrows furrowing as you do.

"I didn't need to." His words are blunt and to the point, and you step back as he removes his shin guards with expertise. He's left in mail and padding, his shoulders broad, his waist lean as he gives you a look that asks for a challenge. And when you don't speak right away, he continues to strip, shedding all of his clothes until he is naked.

Years of training in the knighthood, in guarding the king and his subjects, had made your husband strong. His body is sculpted in ridges and lines like marble, near perfection, but you may be biased in that regard. He barely glances at you before turning on his heel and heading towards the bathtub, making you bristle with renewed anger.

From where you stood, you could see the steam spiraling up from the tub, and you knew it had been freshly filled with steaming hot water just for your husband. "Do not walk away from me, I'm not done talking to you." You huffed, following your husband as he stepped inside the tub, sinking into it until the water reached just under his chest. His arms hung around the rim, his head tilting back as he gave you another look.

"I'm fine." The two words send you over your boiling point, and your hands go to your hips as you scold him.

"Only someone careless would say such a thing! This is why everyone gets checked over; you are not the exception, Kim Taehyung." Each word you hiss brings you closer to him, and the amused smirk he gives you does nothing to calm your nerves.

"Woman, I said I am fine." Only you would ever be allowed to speak to him as you have. And normally, even if that was true, you never did. You were always soft and kind, the support he didn't know he needed until you were brought into his life.

But that doesn't stop you from telling him off when needed, which was now.

"Fine? Your armor is covered in blood. Am I to assume it's not entirely yours? That you weren't harmed at all?" You rant, and Taehyung follows your movements with sharp eyes. He watches the way your eyebrows pinch in frustration, your hands waving about as you point a finger at him.

In all honesty, he was going to see you. But one of the stewards had informed him that they had prepped a hot bath for him, and his aching muscles screamed for that more than his mind debated checking on the wounded brought to you. It was entirely selfish, and he knew that, but a little part of him would rather just be looked at by you in private anyway.

So, that's why he doesn't hesitate. While you rant at him, his arms reach out for you. He grabs you by the waist, and in less than three seconds, you're straddling his hips, your bottom half soaked by water as you gasp in shock. "Taehyung!" Your hands instinctively rest on your husband's shoulders for balance as he tilts his head back more with a wolfish grin. "I am still clothed!"

"And I told you, I'm fine." He murmured low and sure. His large hands held your waist, keeping you anchored over his lap, and it caused your cheeks to flush in color. "Do you want me to show you just how fine I am?" He asks you with a small eyebrow raised, a voiced challenge as one of his hands slides under the water line.

His calloused fingertips glide down your waist, then your thigh, until he reaches under your wet dress, and up to your pretty pussy. And that's when he shows a little teeth while smirking, his hand cupping your pretty cunt as your thighs tense. He watches you from under hooded eyes, waiting for you to stop him, knowing you won't.

You are acutely aware that your husband is naked underneath you, his cock swelling and pressing into your thigh as his fingers brush over the fabric separating you from him. You are also acutely aware that soldiers are guarding right outside, and you weren't hidden behind walls but merely in a thin tent. "Taehyung, people are outside."

Your warning falls on deaf ears as Taehyung relaxes further, his fingers gliding up your covered puffy folds until his fingers dip further to press into your pretty clit.

The moment he does, your thighs spread more out of instinct, your arms giving out as your chest melts into his. Your hand comes to the back of Taehyung's head, your fingers curling into his hair as he drawls rough, sloppy hearts into the sensitive nub between your swollen folds with a cocky grin. "Am I supposed to care?" His voice is low in your ear, his lips brushing your earlobe as he continues to make you dizzy with his touch.

"Someone will hear," you whimper, and Taehyung slips his other hand between you two. His knuckles brush your inner thighs before you feel him tear the little fabric covering your sweet pussy from him. It makes you gasp at his strength and audacity to be impatient as his fingers spread your folds apart, giving him more room to play with your pretty pussy.

Taehyung takes. He doesn't ask. His life was meant to serve in everything he does. And he takes the most pleasure not serving his people, or his king, but you - his pretty wife.

"Let them hear you. Let them know who makes you feel this good," Taehyung demands, and two of his fingers sink into your cunt in one smooth plunge. His fingers curl deep, stretching your gummy walls as his other hand grabs your chin, pulling your head back to look at him as his fingertips find the soft, spongy spot inside you with ease.

He pulls you into a rough kiss, swallowing your whimpers as he abuses the tender spot over and over again, working you open as you lay your hands on his chest for stability. The water in the tub ripples with the movement of his arm between your plush thighs, and his tongue coaxes your mouth open to deepen the kiss, stealing your breath as heat pools in your lower stomach with each stretch of his thick fingers. He had you melting in mere minutes, your mind swirling as he added another finger to your cunt.

"My love," your mewl is said across his lips, and he groans low in response. You were rocking your hips, riding his fingers almost shyly as your cheeks flushed a deeper color.

If you thought you were dizzy from his touch, nothing compares to how he feels when you make such sweet noises on top of him.

Kim Taehyung was a fierce warrior, death incarnate on the battlefield. People parted from him like the Red Sea, cowering at just a mention of his name, but not you. You were his everything.

The sun rose and fell for you in his mind, and his heart was always going to be yours. So, when you hold onto him tighter, your thighs quivering as he stuffs you deliciously with his fingers, he gives you no mercy - just like he was trained to do in everything in his life.

When you cum, it's with a cry of his name, your gummy walls milking his fingers like it was his cock as you shiver in his lap from the pleasure. His fingers never stop moving, fucking you through your orgasm as his other arm holds you to him, forcing you to ride it out as he rubs your clit into sensitivity.

You're boneless when he finally slips his fingers from your fluttering hole, the water in the tub has grown cold as he strips your dress from your pliant body, letting the wet fabric puddle over the side of the tub.

"You believe I am fine, now?" Taehyung asks as he lifts you, making you cling to his wet body as he carries you out of the bathtub with ease. "Or should I convince you some more? Hmm?"

You can barely recover, processing his words too late when he sets you down, bending you over his desk. Your body is slick with water droplets rolling down your legs, your wet skin staining the map laid out on the wooden desk as Taehyung stands behind you. He holds you in place with one hand on your hip as he guides his thick cock to your weeping cunt, gliding his fat tip between your puffy folds.

He doesn't warn you. He doesn't go slow. He takes you in one swift movement, bullying his cock inside you as he did on your wedding night, stretching you open until your jaw slacks and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

When he reaches the back of your sweet pussy, the head of his cock greets your soft cervix with a filthy kiss, and he drapes his body over yours until his lips are by your ear. "Wives shouldn't fight their husbands." You can feel his smirk, his teeth nipping your earlobe before he holds the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he slides almost all the way out.

He sets a brutal pace, filling you balls deep with each thrust, knocking your hips into the wooden desk as the miniatures rattle, falling over from the force of his hips smacking into your ass.

The room fills with the lewd sounds of his cock pounding into your dripping cunt, making you squelch around his thick shaft as you moan so sweetly for him. He pushes the noises from you, sliding in deeper with each thrust as your fingers curled around the desk for support.

"Not too worried about anyone hearing you now, huh?" He murmurs low enough for just you to hear, and your pussy throbs around him in response.

He feels too good, molding you to his cock as he forces you onto your tiptoes. And your pussy tells him just that when you happily suck him deeper, making it harder for him to leave you, not that he ever wanted to in the first place.

Taehyung's teeth gritted, and his jaw clenched as your whines grew louder. He knew the two foot soldiers in the front had to hear you by now, and it only made his stomach flex, heat pooling low enough that his balls tensed in warning.

But he wasn't going to cum first, not if he had anything to do with it. And much to your impending orgasms' displeasure, he slips from your weeping cunt with a growl, flipping you around until you are facing him. "You don't get to cum unless you're looking at me, just me. Only me."

And then he's lifting you again, carrying you to the bed with his hard cock pressed against your sweet pussy. He lies you down on the furs, pushing your legs up until your cunt is on full display for him, and giving him the perfect angle to fill you up again. He uses his weight to fuck you hard and slow, smacking into your G-spot with each pound of his hips against the back of your thighs.

The primal need to get you to the edge, milking his cock while looking at him, burns hot in his chest. He doesn't tell you to be safe or kiss you goodbye before heading into battle; he doesn't tell you sweet nothings in your ear when you go to sleep with him. He doesn't know how to say I love you out loud.

But he knows how to show you.

He shows you by surviving another day and coming home to you. He shows you by winning every tournament in your honor, caring for the land he wins for you, and keeping you safe.

And he shows you his love for you when he gets you cumming on his fingers, his tongue, and his dick until your eyes are glossy like the way you coat his cock with your sweet arousal.

Your cunt flutters when he leans over you, his face inches away from yours as he keeps eye contact with you. His one hand pushes your knee up, keeping you open for him as his other hand finds your clit, and it's like your wedding night all over again.

His hips roll deep and hard, pushing soft gasps from your pretty lips as he rubs sloppy hearts into your little nub, pulling you closer to the edge as he watches ardently. He doesn't say I love you; instead, he makes you cum so hard your eyes water.

Your mouth drops in a silent scream, the breath leaving your lungs while your body locks up underneath him as you cum. Your pussy gushes hot and wet all over his cock, milking him with each flutter of your gummy walls as he keeps fucking you, prolonging your high until your legs quiver in ecstasy.

And when your pretty pussy creams a filthy ring around his cock, his head finally dips, falling into the crook of your neck as your ears ring in the aftershocks.

You can feel his breath hitch, his fingers dimpling into the fat of your thigh as he presses his hips into your ass urgently. His cock swells, twitching deep inside you when he finds his orgasm shortly after yours finishes. And he keeps his face hidden as he cums, rope after rope of his white gooey seed filling your pussy to the brim as he groans softly in your ear.

It's the hottest thing, feeling such a powerful man shudder on top of you, stuffing you full of his cum, and it makes your pussy flutter again, milking every last drop until he is mindlessly fucking it deeper inside you.

When he finally leans back onto his knees, he slides from your cunt gently, watching his cum seep from your puffy folds and onto the furs with heavy eyelids. He watches how your legs stay parted, your breath coming up as pants, as you look up at him with stars in your hazy eyes.

Taehyung gives you a loving smirk, happy his wife is fucked out because of him, and speaks up. "Are you convinced, my wife? Or would you like me to use my tongue next?"

대박 - you made it to the end!

Tell me about it.

You broke the news over text. He broke up with me never feels good to say, and you’re starting to think it might be something wrong with you. Wasn’t this one supposed to be the one? You let him move in. You loved him. Maybe not in the past tense. The feelings are too fresh to understand.

So, yeah. You show up at your best friends’ apartment with a pack of beer and an extremely forced smile.

“I don’t want to talk about it” are the first words off your lips. Taehyung nods, takes the case of beer out of your hands, and disappears into the kitchen, while Yoongi studies you with a more investigative look. He wants to talk about it, wants to push your buttons on the matter. “Seriously, Yoongi,” you say. “Not tonight.”

Yoongi holds up two hands in defense. “Okay,” he says, and you know he’s just giving in for now. That later, hours or days, he’ll be back with more questions.

Taehyung returns with three cans of beer as you make your way toward the couch. He extends one to you and even manages to keep the pitiful smile from reaching the corners of his lips, turning it somewhat genuine instead.

The tension of you breaks the moment you’re seated on the couch. Taehyung takes the edge of the sectional so he can spread out, legs outstretched in front of him, and you plop down next to him out of habit. Yoongi sits a foot or so away, but leans in with his beer extended outward in a wordless cheers.

Aluminum cans knock against one another before silence returns. You attempt to chug your beer inconspicuously, but Taehyung watches you out of the corner of his eye while he scrolls through movie options.

“What are you feeling?” Taehyung asks, forcing you to stop drinking momentarily.

Maybe it’s on purpose. You can’t help but think that it is. This moment of I know what you’re doing broken up by the casual nature of years of friendship, of I’m watching you, and you can’t fool me.

“Maybe horror,” you say, with a shrug of your shoulders. Your eyes bore into Taehyung’s, and you can’t look away. You know he sees right through you, past the facade you’re putting up to will some strength into every bit of you—your words, the way you hold yourself—and you can see the words form on his lips, the way he wants to stop this conversation for one more important.

They both care about you so much that it makes your chest ache.

“Something slasher. Really bloody. Really gross,” you say. “No romance.”

Taehyung’s eyes shift to Yoongi’s behind you, and you know they’re assessing you, trying to figure out how to handle the situation.

“Stop doing that,” you say, eyes meeting Taehyung’s first before your body swivels so you can look at Yoongi. “Whatever secret conversation the two of you are having—stop having it,” you say. “I’m fine.”

Yoongi tilts his head to the side. “You don’t seem fine.” His words are so soft, so kind.

A knot develops in the center of your throat. You swallow it, let it burn the lining of your stomach instead. If they keep looking at you like this, like some half-broken doll, you’re going to burst into tears.

“I—” you start. I’m not, you want to say. It would be so easy to let yourself fall apart in front of them. It wouldn’t be anything they haven’t seen before. But you’re sick of crying. “I’m going to get another beer. Does anyone want one?”

You stand up, only turning to look back at them once you’ve reached the kitchen. They’re looking at each other again, and you let out a long sigh. You grab a second beer from the fridge and stand there, door open, for a beat too long, tapping on the silver can with your nail, trying to decide if you want to fall apart or not.

Eventually, you do turn around, a smile on your face, pressed right to the corners. “This is what’s going to happen tonight,” you say. “You guys are going to stop looking at me like I could fall apart at any moment, and we’re going to watch this movie and get messy drunk. We’re going to have fun. Do you understand?”

Taehyung laughs, and you feel the tension in your chest unwind half an inch. “Yes, ma’am,” he says, saluting you. “Didn’t know this friendship had such strict rules.”

Yoongi’s still looking at you, however, lips in a straight line, head tilted to the side. Like your negative feelings are a bug he’s caught and can’t shake.

“Okay, fine,” you say, throwing your arms out to the side, because you give in to Yoongi that easily. “If I promise to tell you all about my feelings tomorrow, can we move on?”

“Mm,” Yoongi hums, thinking over this proposition. “Promise?”

Taehyung finishes his beer while Yoongi thinks it over, then joins you in the kitchen. You grab him another can from the fridge and clink yours against it.

You don’t want to promise. Yoongi keeps promises, and you’re not exactly sure you’ll feel like crying tomorrow, either. But you say it anyway, because it’s him and he won’t let it go, later. “Yeah, I promise.”

Yoongi’s demeanor changes then, and he smiles, standing up. He chugs the rest of his beer, and your eyes fall to his throat as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.

Taehyung loops an arm low around your waist and pulls you against him, setting his chin on top of your head. You push against his chest. “Don’t be gross,” you say.

“Damn, really strict rules,” he comments. “Can’t even be affectionate with my best friend anymore?”

You roll your eyes, and even though you do step away from him to grab Yoongi a beer, you don’t argue when he drops his forearm onto your shoulder to use you as an armrest.

There’s something Yoongi wants to say. You can see the words curl around the tip of his tongue. He’s never been good at holding them back, anyway. But you know, too, that they’re not in the spirit of the night, so you don’t push him to say them, either. Instead, you pretend not to notice.

“Aw, Yoongi feels left out,” you say as you hand him the beer.

It makes him smile, makes his eyes roll.

The truth of the matter is that you’ve missed this. You haven’t had a night like this in a long time. Your relationship kept you plenty busy, and your now ex-boyfriend didn’t exactly love you spending time with either of them, so you didn’t.

The three of you migrate back to the couch. Taehyung picks a movie that’s equal parts horrifying and gory. You catch Yoongi lifting his hands to cover his eyes. At some point, your head falls onto Yoongi’s shoulder. Another beer in, and when you crawl back to them, it’s with your head in his lap and your legs stretched across Taehyung’s.

Taehyung is laser-focused on the blood bath, but Yoongi’s looking down at you. You notice out of the corner of your eye, but keep your face turned toward the screen.

His fingers trail through your hair, twisting pieces between thumb and forefinger.

“Missed you, you know,” Yoongi says, voice low under the screaming of blood murder erupting from the television.

“I know,” you say, still keeping your eyes forward.

“Missed this,” he says.

“Me too,” you say, and that knot bobs up from the base of your throat. It gets stuck halfway.

Taehyung doesn’t even register the conversation.

“He didn’t deserve you,” Yoongi says, like it's as easy as breathing. Like he’s thought about it before. Like he came to the conclusion months ago, years ago, and he’s just been waiting to say it.

Tears sting in the corners of your eyes, the feeling that’s been haunting you for the past several days. It’s not about deserved or undeserved. You don’t care whether or not you were too good for him. You just miss him.

Yoongi shifts forward and grabs your beer off the coffee table, then presses it into your hands before retrieving his own, too. You lift your head off his lap an inch to take a sip. Discarded empties litter the table in front of you. Your face feels warm, but your head still swims with thoughts you wish could be shoved down much deeper.

Drinking staves off the tears.

When Taehyung’s eyes drift over to you, it’s easy for him to tell that you’re hanging on for dear life. “Yoongi’s right,” Taehyung says, letting you know he’s been listening to your soft words the entire time. “He kinda sucked.”

“He didn’t—” You start to defend him, but can’t bring yourself to follow through. Yoongi’s still peering down at you, and Taehyung’s leveling you with a gaze that says be so for real right now. Because they both know you, and they knew him, too.

“Honestly, you should have broken up with him months ago,” Taehyung says.

“You guys never liked him,” you say, like it’s some kind of defense.

“Right,” Yoongi says. “Because he sucked.”

You take a long drink of beer.

“Say something bad about him,” Taehyung says. “Right now.”

“Why?” you ask.

Yoongi says, “Come on, it’ll be good for you.”

You roll your eyes and grumble a bit under your breath, sorting through thoughts to find something negative to say. The truth is, there are a lot of things you could say. And honestly, if you weren’t halfway drunk, that may have raised some kind of flag that said—it was good that he was out of your life—but it didn’t.

You purse your lips. If you were sober, you would have said something else. But you’re not, and you don’t. Instead, you say, “You know, in three years, he never once made me cum.”

A blood-curdling scream, and then the room goes silent.

It’s Yoongi who says, “You’re kidding.”

Your cheeks flush red and hot, and you’re certain it’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever said aloud—even if it does make you feel better.

“Never?” Taehyung says, a lilt in his voice.

“God, men suck,” you say, feeling better now that it’s off your chest.

Taehyung and Yoongi exchange a glance you don’t catch while your eyes are closed. Taehyung’s hand drops onto your shin, then travels around to hook just below the crook of your knee. You think nothing of it, the touch. These are your best friends. You hardly keep your hands to yourself.

“Whatever,” you say. “All men are bad at sex.”

Yoongi laughs under his breath, and Taehyung says—unprompted. “I bet I could do it.”

“Do what?” you ask, drawing your eyebrows together.

“Make you cum,” Taehyung says. His eyes bore into yours. There’s a lazy smile on his lips, a smirk that turns upward at the corner, but his words are serious. “I bet Yoongi would help me—wouldn’t you, Yoongi?”

“Mhm,” Yoongi hums, looking down at you as he twists a piece of your hair around his fingers.

“This isn’t funny,” you say.

“It’s not a joke,” Taehyung says, his hand skates higher up your leg, and your heart rate skyrockets.

“What are you saying right now?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows to look him in the eye.

He leans forward slightly to make sure you’re really getting the message. “I want to make you cum. Actually, I want to make you cum so hard you see stars.”

“I bet you can’t,” you say, tilting your head to the side in a teasing kind of manner.

“That’s okay, I like a challenge,” he says.

You twist to look at Yoongi. His lips part like he’s going to say something, but the words get caught somewhere.

“It’s okay, Yoongi,” Taehyung says. “You can tell her. I think she likes it.”

You punch Taehyung in the arm, and his brows lift just so, and you can see the amusement light up his eyes. Heat curls downward toward your core while confusion raises flag after flag in your brain. This isn’t a good idea, but you can’t seem to tell that to the rest of your body.

“Yeah, Yoongi,” you say. “Tell me.”

You watch his cheeks flush pink. You wonder if he’s ever thought about you like this. Drunken kisses have been shared—but only with Taehyung. Never Yoongi. He’s better at keeping his hands to himself.

“I like a challenge, too,” Yoongi says, looking down at you, one brow quirked upward in obvious interest. A barely-there smirk appears at the corner of his lips. “But I don’t think it will be that hard.”

“Oh, really?” you tease, sitting up. You move to swing your legs off Taehyung’s lap so you can fully turn toward Yoongi, but Taehyung holds you in place by the thigh.

Yoongi moves in closer, half turned toward Taehyung, his chest pressing against your back. His arm drops around your waist, and your head spins again.

Yoongi lowers his lips to your ear. “Too fast?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“You want this?” Taehyung asks, shifting on the couch so he’s between your legs, spreading them open with the back of his hand. Your eyes drop from his face to his hands on your jean-clad thighs.

The tips of your ears are burning pink, and your lips part to say something that never comes out. Your eyes find Taehyung’s face again as Yoongi’s fingers dip under the hem of your shirt.

“This is—” you start, but you’re easily distracted by Yoongi’s other hand brushing the hair away from your neck, from the first kiss he presses to the top of your shoulder, and the subsequent ones that trail upward toward your neck. You let out a long, shaky breath. “Crazy,” you say. “This is crazy.”

“Yeah, but do you want it?” Taehyung asks. His hands grip the tops of your thighs, putting pressure on them as he leans forward, his nose is just a few inches away from yours.

Your mind is full of static electricity, but you can remember the last time you kissed. Some nonsense party years ago, drunk and falling all over one another. It hadn’t meant anything then—it didn’t need to mean anything now, either.

“Stop kissing her, she can’t think straight,” Taehyung says, and Yoongi lifts his lips off your neck.

“Yes,” you say, on another shaky exhale.

“Yes, what?” Taehyung asks, tilting his head to the side, that charming smirk appearing on his lips once more. You’ve seen it before, when he’s flirting with girls he wants to pick up in bars. It’s never been turned like this, on you. “Tell me you want me to make you cum,” he says, like you haven’t been friends for nearly a decade. Like it’s a normal and totally casual thing to say to your best friend.

“Taehyung,” you say, sharply, accusatorily—in shock, mostly.

It only makes his grin stretch further.

“Be nice to her, Tae,” Yoongi says, his breath tickling your ear.

Taehyung’s eyes roll in a show of dramatics, but he doesn’t relent on his desire to hear the words off your lips. “Say it,” he presses again.

You glare at him because it’s all you can do. Because you’re not certain you can actually bring yourself to say those words to him.

“What?” he asks, voice low and breathy. “I bet your boyfriend played nice with you, that’s why you never came.”

You narrow your eyes at him, grinding your teeth. You’re lying to yourself simply by keeping the words in. The words come out angry, annoyed. “I want you to try to make me cum. It’s cute that you think you can actually do it.”

His eyes darken at your words, and you know you’ve pissed him off. It’s easy—easier than rage-baiting him during a normal conversation. And you think, absent-mindedly, that this is going to be fun.

“What about him?” Taehyung asks, nodding toward Yoongi, who drops his lips to your neck again, who drags his teeth along your skin. “You want him to make you cum, too?”

“Yes,” you say, letting your head loll back onto Yoongi’s chest. He bites down hard, with no warning, then sucks on the sensitive skin between his teeth. You gasp, and your hips roll forward without permission.

“God, you’re fucking starved for it, aren’t you?” Taehyung asks. One hand slips off the top of your thigh and presses between them, giving you something to grind against. “There you go,” he says. “That’s it.”

Yoongi’s lips move higher before he bites down again, leaving behind a new mark. His fingers dip under your shirt and slide upward, slow and agonizing along the plane of your stomach. You roll your hips against Taehyung’s hand again, and he smiles. “Thought you would take more convincing,” he says. “But no, you’ve thought about this before—haven’t you?”

Yoongi smiles against your neck, then presses soft kisses onto the bruises he’s left behind, fingers still sliding up higher.

It’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s the dizzying feeling of the two of them pushing you slowly forward. “Yes,” you say. You feel the need to quantify it. “A few times. Maybe.”

Yoongi’s fingers lift the edge of your bra, and he hesitates for only a moment before slipping his hand under it completely to palm your breast.

“Maybe?” Yoongi asks, his breath warm against your neck.

“Have you thought about it, Yoongi?” you ask.

“Tried not to,” he says. “Made me jealous to think about you and him—and he didn’t even get you there? You should have been here with us the whole time.” Taehyung’s playful attitude is no match for the genuine anger behind Yoongi’s tone—the jealousy, the vitriol he feels toward your ex—it’s palpable.

Your cheeks flush again, and you’re certain they’ve been pink since the moment they started touching you.

Taehyung chuckles under his breath. “Can’t believe you haven’t had an orgasm in three years.”

Your lids flutter closed as Yoongi rolls your nipple between two fingers. “That’s not—what I said.”

Taehyung’s brows draw together, and he presses his fingers harder against your center through your jeans. “Fuck, he made you do all the work, huh? He didn’t even take care of you?”

You shake your head.

Taehyung’s free hand moves to the button of your jeans, making quick work of it and your zipper. He tugs them down your thighs and runs his tongue along his lower lip. You watch him through hooded lids, your head tipped back against Yoongi’s chest. Yoongi uses his free hand, too, placing it across your throat just under your jaw, keeping your head rolled back. Your eyes flick to his, and he smiles down at you.

You think momentarily—what a fucking situation you have gotten yourself into—but the thought washes over you, there and gone. Both sets of eyes watch you, one careful and one hungry.

Taehyung tosses your jeans to the floor and kneels between your legs. He chuckles under his breath, dry and devoid of warmth, akin to that same hunger blowing out his pupils. The back of his hand drags up your inner thigh, and you shiver. Yoongi’s fingers twist your nipple, and a soft moan leaves your lips. The corner of his lips twitches up at your reaction to him, and you know he’s enjoying himself, too, even if he’s being quieter about it. Taehyung presses two fingers to the apex of your thighs, over lacy panties.

You pull your eyes from Yoongi’s, finding Taehyung’s instead—looking up at you already. Neither of you speaks. He makes no salacious comment. He just looks at you, mouth parted a fraction, eyes locked onto yours, and you can’t look away, either, even as Yoongi attempts to distract you, attempts to win back your gaze by tightening his grasp on your neck, by pinching your nipple harder. It doesn’t work.

Soft whimpers leave your lips, but you can’t not look at him, this person you’ve known for so long, settled between your legs. So familiar, and yet new at the same time.

And time seems to stand still. Yoongi’s breath rises and falls, his chest moving against your back, but it’s quiet, momentarily, as if the three of you all come to the same conclusion at the same time, that you’re doing this, with each other. No one voices a complaint against this realization.

Taehyung moves first, deft fingers pushing your underwear to the side. His fingers slide through your slick, and you flinch, a gasp escaping your lips.

He breaks the silence, the tension, with a few easy words that send shivers up your spine. “You’re so fucking wet,” Taehyung says. His thumb moves slowly over your clit, and you shudder.

“What do you think, Yoongi?” Taehyung asks. “How should I make her cum?”

Yoongi’s lips ghost the curve of your ear. “What do you want, baby?” he asks.

Your breath catches in your throat as Taehyung just barely touches your clit again, just enough to make you gasp, then settle. Over and over.

“I didn’t ask her, I asked you,” Taehyung says.

“You should go down on her,” Yoongi replies, but he’s saying it to you, whispering it in your ear loud enough to be heard. “I think she’d like that,” he says. Then, “Wouldn’t you?”

Yoongi’s fingers clench your neck a little tighter, not cutting anything off, exactly, but just holding you, making sure you don’t go anywhere. You nod, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth so you can bite it.

Yoongi scoots backward on the couch, pulling you with him, giving Taehyung the space to move backward, to lean down and press messy kisses up the side of your inner thigh. He hooks his fingers into the band of your underwear and pulls them down slowly, keeping his eyes on yours.

You want to whine, complain that he’s going too slow—but you know that it’ll only provoke him, only make him go even slower, and you’re impatient.

And you think, too, maybe this was what you were missing with your ex, the push and pull, the tension, the anticipation.

Taehyung slides a finger down your slit and nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, causing you to suck in a sharp breath.

“I bet he never made you this wet, hm?” Taehyung asks, eyes finding yours as he waits for a response. When your mouth opens, he slips the finger inside of you, and you choke on the words.

With his other fingers, he finds your clit, then lowers his mouth onto it without losing the proud smirk. He sucks it into his mouth, and your hips buck against him.

“God,” you moan, tipping your head back even further, trying to catch Yoongi’s eyes.

“Don’t look at him,” Taehyung says sharply, the moment he catches you, raising his mouth off you to say it. “Look at me.” He slips a second finger inside of you and curls them both.

Yoongi’s eyes don’t waver from yours, and you can’t manage to look away from him, despite Taehyung’s commands from between your legs.

You squirm underneath his touch, hips rolling to meet the thrusts of his fingers, still watching Yoongi watch you.

“Yoongi,” Taehyung says, lifting his mouth from you again, allowing you a momentary reprieve. “Leave, you’re distracting her.”

Your brows furrow, but Yoongi’s hands drop away from you, and he stands up. “Wait in the bedroom, we’ll be right there,” Taehyung says.

Your hand shoots out to grab Yoongi’s, eyes watching him from below.

Taehyung bites your inner thigh hard, and you yelp, dropping Yoongi’s hand, eyes shooting to Taehyung, who looks up at you with a grin.

“Your whole mean guy thing doesn’t work on me,” you say, voice wavering.

Taehyung laughs under his breath, twisting his fingers inside of you. He pulls them out fast, running both through your slick and holding them up between you. “Could have fooled me,” he says, looking at his fingers with a sense of pride in himself. He brings them to his lips, then runs his tongue along them slowly, knuckle to tip.

You throw your head back with a groan, because you can’t take just how fucking sexy he is—and how did you never see it before? You saw it. Obviously. In an appreciative kind of way. But never in a holy fuck you want him kind of way.

He shoves his fingers back inside of you, both at the same time, without warning, then lowers his mouth to your clit again. “Now, look at me,” he says.

You lift your head to make eye contact with him, brows furrowed.

“Play mad all you want, I can feel how badly you want me,” he says, before closing his lips around your clit again.

“I’m not—” you start, your words broken up by moans as he runs his tongue in circles around your clit. “pretending,” you force out. “You piss me off.”

Taehyung hums in laughter against you, making you moan. He keeps going, moving his fingers fast inside of you, and licking and sucking at your swollen clit as moans fall off your lips at a much higher frequency. You wonder if Yoongi is listening from the bedroom.

Your nails dig into the couch, and your hips lift as your back arches.

“Fuck, Tae,” you say.

Hot tension seizes your muscles, and your thighs start to quiver. Taehyung lifts his mouth from your clit and watches you crumble underneath him. “You gonna cum?” he asks.

You nod, and the corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk just before he pulls his fingers out of you. You gasp, and he moves forward, hovering over you with that same proud smile on his face. He snakes one arm under your body and pulls you upward, against him.

“Remember that later,” he whispers. “That the only reason you didn’t cum—is because I didn’t let you.”

He drops you back onto the couch and stands up.

You swallow the lump in your throat. It takes a moment for you to register what just happened. Your arms go around your stomach.

“Oh, she’s shy now?” Taehyung asks, eyes trailing your body. “Come on,” he says. “Stand up.” Then he walks away, disappearing into the bedroom.

You follow on shaky legs. Yoongi’s lounging on the bed, back against the headboard, in just his boxers. Taehyung stands at the foot of the bed. Both of their eyes are on you, naked from the waist down, fingers playing in the hem of your shirt.

“Still want this?” Yoongi asks, tilting his head to the side. You walk toward him.

You can feel Taehyung’s eyes on the side of your head, like he’s trying to get you to look at him, instead.

“Yes,” you say.

A small smile appears on Yoongi’s face. He beckons you closer until you’re standing in front of him, at the side of his bed. He leans closer, takes the hem of your shirt in both hands, and lifts it over your head. He pops the clasp of your bra open and pulls the straps off, letting that fall to the floor, too.

“You wanna help Tae out of his clothes? He’s pouting over there,” Yoongi says.

You pout, too. “Not really.”

Yoongi trails a few fingers down your side, then withdraws. You roll your eyes and step away, moving to the foot of the bed. Taehyung turns to face you as you approach. His eyes fall down your body.

All of a sudden, he’s your friend again, and your cheeks flush that bright pink color. “Don’t look at me like that,” you say.

“Like what?” Taehyung asks, fully aware of what he’s doing. “I just made you cum like, two minutes ago, I think I can look at you—”

“You did not,” you say, shaking your head.

“I might as well have,” he says.

“But you didn’t. It doesn’t count. Not for this,” you say.

He raises a brow. “But you still want me to, don’t you?”

You chew on your bottom lip. “Shut up,” you say.

He tries not to smile.

“Take your clothes off,” you say. It’s answer enough. He whips his shirt off over his head, then unbuttons his pants, pushing those to the ground too. He takes you by the wrist—not the hand, that would be much too romantic—and tugs you toward the bed. You crawl into it next to Yoongi, who gives you another one of those soft, reassuring smiles he’s been tossing in your direction all night.

Taehyung climbs into bed after you and pulls you away from Yoongi before you can so much as touch each other. One hand holds your hip, the other snakes around to lay flat against your stomach, pulling you backward against his chest.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung asks, his breath warm against your ear.

“Just wanted Yoongi to feel included,” you say with a pout. Taehyung’s cock presses against your ass through his boxers. You roll your hips, grinding backward into him.

He sucks in a breath. “Yoongi’s patient,” Taehyung says. “I’m not. Turn around.”

He moves his hands, and you turn around. He slides one of his hands down your side and grabs your inner thigh, pulling it across his legs. “Come here,” he says. You straddle him, and he places a hand on each of your hips, pulling you against him as he sits up, leaning against the headboard. You grind against him, humming at the sensation of his hard length underneath you.

“Take these off,” you say, trying to keep the absolute neediness from your voice, but failing.

Taehyung just laughs, then says. “You do it.”

You don’t waste any time thinking about why he’s decided to take the passive route all of a sudden. You lift your hips and move backward off of him, then slide down his boxers.

He’s big. Bigger than you would have ever guessed—not that you spend time thinking about what your best friend’s cock looks like.

You move forward again and look at him. He reaches into the drawer next to the bed for a condom, then presses it into your hand. You open it with your teeth, then roll it onto him. You hesitate with your hand on the base of his dick.

Then, you align him with your entrance and slowly lower yourself down, taking him inch by inch.

“Fuck,” Taehyung hisses. “That’s it.”

Your head rolls back. Yoongi shifts, and his hand slips down his body.

You move your hips slowly, adjusting to the feeling of him inside of you. Every movement sends pleasure straight up your spine. Taehyung doesn’t touch you, but you press your hands against his bare chest, then slip them upward to hold onto his shoulders as you take more and more of him.

“God—oh my god,” you mutter as your head falls backward. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you as he touches himself.

Taehyung moves, then, his hands come up to grab your back, pressing you against his chest as he pulls almost all the way out, then snaps his hips forward, forcing you to take all of him, at once.

You gasp a sob into his shoulder.

He stills again, then drops his hands away from you. He pushes you away from his chest. “Keep going,” he says.

Your breathing is heavy and ragged, but you do what he says. With each roll of your hips, you moan, even at such little movement.

“Faster,” Taehyung says.

“We’ve known each other so long, Tae, why can’t you just be nice to me?” you ask, brows furrowed together, hands on his chest.

“Thought the mean guy act didn’t work on you.” He raises a brow, but you don’t have a response. His lips part, and he fucking scoffs at you. The scoff turns into a laugh, and then he’s gathering you in his arms again, thrusting upward hard. “You want me to be nice?” he asks, voice rough and ragged in your ear as he presses deep into you.

“Yes,” you beg.

He flips you over in one fast movement. Your head hits the pillow. His hips snap forward harshly, no build-up, and another cry falls off your lips.

“You want nice, you can fuck Yoongi,” Taehyung says. “You do wanna fuck Yoongi, don’t you?”

You turn your head to the side, desperate to meet Yoongi’s eyes. He’s there. He finds yours immediately. He moves down so his head is resting on the pillow next to yours. “Y-yes,” you say, as Taehyung rolls his hips slowly, his cock dragging in and out so slow you feel like you might lose your mind.

Taehyung smiles. “Be good for me, then, and maybe I’ll let you.” He grabs the tops of your thighs and pulls you down on him, holding you against him as he establishes a feverish rhythm that has you dragging your eyes away from Yoongi to watch Taehyung, instead.

Taehyung leans over you, gripping the top of the headboard with one hand. You can’t stop yourself from touching him as he rocks forward into you. You touch his chest, his shoulders. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck and let your fingers thread into his hair.

“Tae, oh my god,” you moan as he thrusts forward harder and harder, making the bed shake. You lift your hips to meet each one. He raises his other hand to wrap around your throat, squeezing just enough to give you the sensation. You squirm underneath him, little whimpers escaping your lips.

His eyes meet yours, darkened and wild. His hand drops from the headboard. He swipes his thumb across your lower lip, and for a second, you think he might kiss you. Your lips part, and your head lifts just a fraction off the pillow. He pushes two fingers into your mouth, muffling your groan.

“That’s better,” Taehyung grins, never relenting on his pace. He removes his hand from your throat to lift up one of your legs, propping it against his chest and holding it in place as he drives into you.

You mumble around his fingers, incoherent sobs as pleasure peaks higher and higher.

“Bet he never fucked you like this, did he?” Taehyung asks.

You shake your head.

“God, you should have come to me—us, first. Should have never dated that fucking idiot in the first place,” Taehyung says. His eyes dart to the side, to Yoongi.

Your legs start to shake, and he presses his fingers deeper into your mouth, so they’re nearly choking you. The corners of your eyes sting.

“Come on,” Taehyung says. “Don’t fucking cry.” He slows his pace a fraction, but the long, languid strokes give you no reprieve, either. “Be useful,” he says, meeting your eyes, then tilting his head toward Yoongi. “Help him with that.”

You drop a hand from Taehyung’s shoulder. Yoongi guides it to his hard length. You try to look at him, but Taehyung keeps your head still, facing him. Yoongi wraps your hand around him and moves it slowly, up and down.

Taehyung picks up the pace again, and you’re grateful for Yoongi’s hand, keeping the pace for you, because you can’t focus well enough to do fucking anything. Taehyung presses his fingers even deeper, and tears well in your eyes as you moan against them—everything tightening and tightening, until you can’t take it anymore. Taehyung still doesn’t stop. He keeps fucking you hard and fast, even as you squirm and shake beneath him.

And when you cum, it’s with his fingers in your mouth and him fucking you through it. Taehyung pulls out his fingers as your walls clench hard around him. He wipes your drool off on your cheek, making a mess of you. He holds your jaw with his hand as his hips snap forward, giving you no moment of recovery while he chases his own orgasm.

When he slows, your hand falls away from Yoongi, too. Then, he’s pulling out and standing up, walking away. He stops at the foot of the bed, looking at you—wrecked and breathing heavily, and he smirks. His eyes drag away from you, toward Yoongi. “Your turn,” he says, then he disappears into the bathroom.

Your head falls to the side. Yoongi reaches up and wipes away one of the tears, then some of the drool. “You okay?” he asks.

Your lids flutter closed, and you nod. “Mhm.”

You lay there in silence for a few moments, catching your breath. When you open your eyes, he’s still there, fingers tracing idle circles on your arm.

“Hi,” you say, somewhat awkwardly, somewhat breathless.

“Hi, beautiful,” he says. “You need a minute?”

You turn toward him, and something in the resolve you had with Taehyung breaks when it comes to Yoongi. You shake your head. “No.” You inch closer, slipping one of your legs between his, pressing your chest against his. Your eyes meet for a moment before they both drop to the other’s lips.

The dam breaks, and you both move in at the same time, lips crashing together. Your hands delve into his hair, and his wrap around your back, pulling you closer. You never realized how much you wanted to kiss him—not until you’re actually doing it.

He pauses the bruising kisses just long enough to catch his breath and mumble, “You’re so sexy,” against your lips. He settles one hand on the side of your face and presses his lips against yours again, slower this time. Softer. You part your lips for him, and he slips a tongue into your mouth.

You stay like that—pressed against each other, kissing—until Taehyung clears his throat from the foot of the bed.

Yoongi pulls away an inch to look at Taehyung, watching both of you.

“You still want me?” Yoongi asks, dragging the tip of his nose along the side of yours.

“She does,” Taehyung says. “All she’s been fucking talking about.”

“I do,” you say.

A soft smile appears on Yoongi’s lips. His hand drags down your body, from your lower back, over your ass, and around to the top of your thigh. You lean back, propping yourself up on your elbows. You look past Yoongi, making eye contact with Taehyung, who watches your every move. You roll your eyes at him, then let them flutter closed entirely.

Yoongi’s touch is softer, more careful. His fingertips slide through your slick, and you suck in a breath when they touch your clit, still sensitive. He dips one finger inside of you, nudging it forward ever so slowly.

He teases you, refuses to establish a steady rhythm. When he adds a second finger, you’re moving your hips against him, needy.

“She doesn’t need all that,” Taehyung says. “She’s so fucking desperate for it.”

You grab a pillow from beneath your head and chuck it in Taehyung’s direction. Yoongi laughs, even as it misses.

“Yeah, but she likes it,” Yoongi says, nipping at the skin where your neck meets your shoulder. “Don’t you, baby?”

“Mhm,” you murmur, head thrown back on the pillow. His thumb finds your clit, and you gasp.

Taehyung folds his arms over his chest. You try to keep your eyes closed, or on Yoongi, but he’s just standing there, all imposing, like he’s in charge of the whole situation. He probably thinks he is.

Yoongi twists his fingers inside of you, then curls them, keeping a harsh pressure on your swollen clit all the while.

You hold his bicep with one hand, nails digging into his skin. “Yoongi,” you whine, writhing under his touch. It’s so different than the way Taehyung handled you. Slow, but intentional. More teasing than full-blown torture.

“Hm?” Yoongi asks, eyes flicking up to yours. He’s got one brow raised, genuinely curious. Willing to do whatever it is you want.

You open your mouth—and it happens again. That moment. You remember that he’s Yoongi. Your Yoongi. Your best friend, Yoongi. Sure, he’s fucking hot, but he’s just your friend. Your cheeks go red, and he lifts a finger to touch the warmth.

You don’t use words. You reach down and push his boxers away as best you can. He takes the hint and kicks them the rest of the way off. He positions himself between your legs, removes his fingers from you, and slides his hand along his cock. You bite your bottom lip, watching him—watching Taehyung, just behind him.

Yoongi drags the tip of his dick through your folds, and your hips twitch.

“Please, Yoongi,” you whine.

“I don’t have a—” he starts.

“I don’t care,” you say, and he nudges the tip into you. He’s thicker than Taehyung, and the feeling of him with no barrier short-circuits your brain.

He moves so fucking slow, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated, hovering over you, a hand on either side of your chest. Then, he draws back just as slowly. “Fuck, Yoongi,” you say. “Oh, my god.”

When he snaps his hips forward to fill you up again, he’s not nearly as rough as Taehyung. But it feels too good, dangerously good. You’re slick with sweat and pleasure, and your hands roam over his body until they settle on his shoulders again, until you’re pulling him down for another kiss, and he’s complying as he moves a little bit faster. He puts most of his weight on you, and your hips roll to meet each of his thrusts, and it feels goddamn perfect.

Your lips move just as hungrily, teeth knocking into each other.

“You’re so good, baby, fuck,” Yoongi whispers against your lips.

You can see, just out of the corner of your eye, Taehyung’s hand moving as he watches the two of you.

Yoongi pulls out quickly, his dick twitching. He drops his forehead against yours. “Need,” he says, as he catches his breath. “A condom.”

He moves away from you to reach into the drawer next to his bed. Taehyung crawls into bed next to you, pushing some of your hair out of the way. “Having fun?” he asks, eyes dark, pupils blown.

“Yes,” you say.

Taehyung trails his fingers down the center of your chest, between your breasts. “You’re so good for him.”

“You’re so annoying,” you say, words breathy.

Yoongi gets back into bed, between your legs. Taehyung takes the condom out of his hand and tears it open with his teeth. He puts one hand on Yoongi’s length and rolls it on with the other. Then, he gets out of bed, circles to the other side, grabs a small bottle out of the same drawer, and gets back into bed, kneeling at Yoongi’s side.

“Yeah?” Taehyung asks, belatedly. “Am I?”

You roll your eyes, if only to prevent yourself from looking at him with the same curious hunger.

Yoongi pulls you closer by the thighs, then presses into you again. You can’t help the gasp that falls off your lips as he bottoms out.

Taehyung opens the bottle and squeezes some lube onto his fingers. Then, he places his other hand at the top of Yoongi’s back and bends him over you. He presses one finger into Yoongi, slow, giving him enough time to adjust.

You hold Yoongi’s gaze and his arms, nails digging into his skin as his slow strokes make your walls clench around him.

Taehyung slips another finger inside, starting slow as he scissors them, making room. With his other hand, he strokes his dick, eyes drifting between what he’s doing and you. You look at him, too, eyes curious, but he only responds with a wicked smirk. He removes his fingers, and Yoongi hisses.

“God, you’re being so gentle with her,” Taehyung says, as Yoongi rolls his hips at a steady rhythm. It’s not the breakneck speed with which Taehyung destroyed you earlier, but it does just as much to bring you higher and higher, the tension in your core tightening with every slow stroke. “You don’t have to be.”

Taehyung grabs another condom from the drawer and smirks at you while he rolls it on. He lowers his lips to Yoongi’s ear and says, “Ready for me?”

Yoongi nods as Taehyung swipes lube over his dick. He lays one hand flat against Yoongi’s back, then uses the other to guide his length, pressing slowly into Yoongi’s ass.

“Fuck,” Yoongi whispers as he takes Taehyung and keeps fucking you at the same time. You feel Yoongi’s hips stutter, can feel him lose rhythm as he adjusts to Taehyung.

Taehyung grabs Yoongi’s shoulder and pulls him backward against his chest, then wraps one arm around his abdomen to keep him there. He says your name, and your eyes meet over Yoongi’s shoulder. “Hands and knees,” he says.

Your lips part in shock at how hot it is to see the two of them together. Your eyes trace Yoongi’s expression, the redness in his cheeks, and the way his fingers twitch to touch something. You. Taehyung. You aren’t sure.

“I said hands and knees,” Taehyung repeats, and you comply, moving off of Yoongi so you can flip over. You press your ass backward against him, and Yoongi guides his length to your entrance again. He moves forward an inch, then Taehyung rocks his hips forward, fully seating Yoongi inside of you in one harsh motion. The sound that falls off your lips is half gasp, half yelp.

Taehyung’s momentum changes everything. Yoongi’s hips move faster. His hands grip your hips tight, almost forcefully, as he fights to maintain his own composure.

You’re all moaning and breathing heavily, profanities on the tips of your tongues—sweating and sticky.

“Take her hands,” Taehyung whispers to Yoongi.

“Don’t you think we’ve tortured her enough?” Yoongi asks.

Taehyung laces a hand up through Yoongi’s hair, tugging it from the base. “Take her hands for me, Yoongi,” he says.

Yoongi leans forward and takes one hand, then the other, dropping you forward onto your shoulders, your face pressed into the mattress.

Taehyung picks up the pace, snapping forward into Yoongi, and sending him deeper and deeper into you. You bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming. You say his name, then Taehyung’s, over and over like a plea, begging for what they promised they could give you.

You clench tight around Yoongi, making each drag more intoxicating than the last. You can feel him start to twitch, can feel him trying to hold back from his own release so he can get you to yours. He reaches a hand around you, finding your clit and pinching it between two fingers.

“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses. “Can’t—”

He drills into you, hard and fast and dizzying, rolling your clit at the same time. His cock twitches inside of you, and your walls clamp down even harder. Taehyung pulls out and lets Yoongi fall forward on top of you. He drops your hands and winds his arms around your stomach, holding you, fucking deep into you while he cums. It’s enough to send you over the same edge.

You collapse flat onto the bed, and Yoongi moves to your side. Taehyung disappears for a moment, then returns and crawls into bed next to you.

Yoongi presses soft kisses to the bruises along your neck, then to your cheeks. He looks at Taehyung with the same lazy smile he’s been admiring you with all night, then says. “I’m gonna start the shower.”

You move to follow him, but Taehyung loops his arms around your waist and pulls you backward. He nuzzles your neck, and you wince.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s okay,” you say.

He holds you for a long time, like that.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft.

Yoongi’s waiting for you both in the shower, you know, but you can’t help but stay there, with him.

He reaches up to cup your face, turning it so he can look at you. So you can look at him. He studies you for a long time, like he’s trying to think of what to say—about what can be said, after all that.

It’s the first time he’s been gentle with you. But not the last.

He doesn’t figure out what to say. Maybe those words don’t exist. Instead, he lowers his lips to yours and kisses you. It’s not rushed or harsh, but slow, like he’s trying to figure something out.

It’s molten, and everything else disappears for a while. You can hardly hear the sound of the shower, of Yoongi in the next room. He traces the outline of your body with his other hand, fingers dragging along the curve of your breast, then down your stomach.

“Tae…” you say, breaking away from his lips for only a second.

He closes the gap again, kisses you again, then stops. “I can be nice,” he says. “Let me be nice.” You roll your hips back to find his hard length there, pressing against you. “I want to be nice.”

You don’t say anything, but you spread your legs just enough for him to guide his cock to your entrance from behind. “Just need to feel you,” he mumbles. “Like Yoongi did.”

He pushes into you, slow and unhurried, relishing the feeling of it.

“Careful,” you say, forming the word around broken gasps. “You sound jealous.”

“Maybe I am,” he says, voice low in your ear. He rocks forward until you’re full, then pauses, holding you against him. “God,” he whispers. “You feel so good.” He draws back, then creeps forward again, everything languid.

“Mm, Tae,” you moan, and he captures your lips again—just as soft as before.

He breaks away to keep whispering in your ear. “You’re so pretty, baby, you know that? You know how fucking pretty you are? God, it drives me crazy.”

He kisses you again, on the lips, along your jaw, just under your ear. He moans little sounds with every stroke, and you’re fairly certain this nice version of him is just as intoxicating as the last.

“Don’t stop,” you say, breathless, wanting more of his praise, more of his touch, more of his everything.

He doens’t. He keeps the same slow pace, the same delicious, intoxicating drag.

“Whatever you want, pretty. Anything you want,” he says, voice honey compared to the harshness from before.

Whimpers escape your mouth as he rolls into you. He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you against him. “You’re so good for me, baby. Fuck, I could have you like this all the time.”

The two of you hardly notice when Yoongi appears in the doorway. “Was wondering what was taking so long,” he says.

Taehyung keeps the pace, and your eyelids fall closed.

“Just,” Taehyung starts, breaths ragged in your ear. “Give us—a minute.”

You pull Taehyung back down for another kiss before moving off of him. He looks at you with a pout, like you’ve done something completely betraying.

“Come on,” you say, finding his hand and tugging on it. “Let’s shower.”