#v x reader

Taehyung was reading, his wired earbuds dangling from his ears as he turned the page, the tiny booklight overhead illuminating his golden caramel-brown hair. He looked so cute: the contrast between his youthful new hair colour and his muscled, defined arms in his tank top was enough to make you shuffle in your seat.

He noticed the movement from your seat and glanced up at you, his eyes lighting up a little at the realization that you were awake.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he murmured with a smile, his hand coming over the armrest to give your leg a squeeze. "It's still the middle of the night, we don't land for several more hours, baby, go back to sleep."

You fussed with the blanket that was draped over your legs, checking your phone.

3:13 AM.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" You rubbed some residual sleep from your eyes.

"I have to be up early the day after we land, so I'm trying to beat the jet lag by staying up for a bit before we land in Spain in the evening."

The tour has been going on since April, and the shows in Madrid were the first you were able to join him for due to your work schedule. This wasn't the original plan at first, but seeing Taehyung again in Seoul after being on the road away for a little over a month, after being able to see him almost every day since military discharge, had both of you unreasonably clingy to one another again.

"Come, baby," Taehyung pressed the recline button on your armrest, your seat lowering itself underneath you to a more comfortable position. "Head back to sleep."

"Lie with me," you murmured, lifting the glossy, polished armrest that separated you two.

He smiled before tugging his earbuds out, abandoning them and his book on his side table before reclining his seat as well, joining you. He turned to press the button that closed the sliding privacy door, shielding the two of you from the rest of the cabin.

First class was really something.

Taehyung shuffled next to you, the two dropped seats coming together to basically make a bed. You lifted the blanket to throw it over him, his arm snaking around your waist as he pulled you in a little closer.

"This what you want?" Taehyung chuckled softly into your hair. You nodded a little, shuffling your body back into him, his big spoon to your little one. He splayed his large hand across your stomach, holding you against him as he pulled himself a little closer to you, your back and bum pressed innocently against his abdomen and sweatpants. He lifted his head up next to your face, pressing a soft, sweet kiss on your cheek.

"This is a work trip," he murmured into your ear as he trailed his lips across your cheek, lowering himself closer towards your neck. You let out a little sigh as he kissed down your jawline, his grip on your waist getting a little tighter, firmer, the way he did when he wanted to mess around. "And I'm not thinking about work."

You looped your hand behind his neck, encouraging him to kiss you a little harder, and he chuckled into your skin, nipping his teeth gently on your skin by your collarbone.

"The rest of the guys are right across the aisle, and you're here, making me lie next to you like this," he licked a little teasing stripe up your neck and you let out a whine.

"Shh, shh, baby. They may be asleep, but first class can still hear you, hm?" Taehyung was smiling into your neck, kissing and suckling on your skin with increased pressure, trying to coax another pretty sound from your mouth.

"Tae," you whimpered, turning your head to face him a little better. Under the cover of the dark cabin, you could tell the way he looked at you was more than just affection. His eyes had shifted from his typical sweet round stare into the half-lidded gaze that he only ever gave you when he wanted to get his dick wet.

"So pretty, even in your sweatpants," he groaned into your ear, pressing his growing hard-on into your bum. "I've never gotten to creampie you on an airplane yet, hm angel?"

Your stomach twisted at his filthy words, your underwear starting to cling to your growing arousal. Taehyung never hesitated to tell you what he wanted and how, and especially when he was back on tour, it was like his flirting and forwardness increased tenfold.

"Tae," you breathed. "Is that what you want right now?"

Taehyung dipped a lingering hand into the waistband of your sweatpants, his middle and index finger pressing teasingly into your wet fold, covered just barely by the already soaking fabric of your panties. You let out a strangled whimper, his fingertip gently kissing your throbbing clit as he tested your waters.

"Mm, I think that's what you want," he whispered, bringing his hand out of your pants just so he could pull them down and off your hips, your bare skin exposed under the airline-issued blanket.

His other arm gripped your waist firmly in place for him as he returned his hand to your trembling heat, tugging your underwear to one side for immediate access. You whined at the crude motion, the air-conditioned, barely-there breeze of the cabin cool against your wetness.

Taehyung could tell you were fighting to hold yourself together, and his tongue poked in his cheek as he tugged his own sweats down a little, just enough to free himself from his boxers. He pumped himself once or twice, the head of his cock still poking erotically against your bare bum. With a guided hand, he slipped his cock right between the squishy warmth of your bare thighs, nestled between the flesh of your upper thighs and the bare, warm wet slick of your aching pussy. Your arousal coated the top of his cock, and he groaned at the slick, warm sensation.

"My pretty girl," he groaned into your ear before he started to move his hips. His cock fucked gently between the flesh of your thighs, your arousal acting as the perfect slip as he humped his needy cock up against your pussy, the head of his cock knocking gently against your swollen clit. "Like my own little toy, to do whatever I want with, whenever I want."

You whimpered at the sensation of Taehyung using your legs to get himself off, the wetness painted all over your inner thighs. You brought your hand down between your legs, bringing your fingers to meet the tip of his cock as his flushed head peeked in and out from between your legs with every roll of his hips.

"Fuck, even your legs feel so good against me, angel," he groaned into your ear, his hips humping up against your ass like a horny college kid. "I could cum just fucking your thighs like this. But that's not what you want, is it?"

And with his teasing words, Taehyung rounded his hand to your front, pressing a few possessive, addictive circles to your clit, before he pushed the tip of his cock into your pussy, the size of him stretching you out so deliciously, especially with how pressed together your thighs were.

"Holy shit," he moaned into your ear. "Forgot how well your legs and ass squeeze me when I'm too impatient to spread your legs wide open. Your body's so good to me."

You clenched yourself around your boyfriend's cock that threatened to push a few more inches into you, slowly and purposefully as he studied all your reactions. He was grinning at you, tongue poking his cheek cockily as he watched your squirm, desperate to stay quiet as he filled you up with him completely.

"Tae-hyu-" you let out a strangled moan, your hand coming up to desperately silence your string of erotic noises that fell carelessly from your mouth. Taehyung hissed as he began to fuck his hips into you, the sensation of your body sleeving his cock so well making him cuss under his breath.

"Gonna fuck you until I make a mess in you, if that's alright with you," he growled against your skin, the feverous knock of his cock against your cervix squeezing a desperate whine out of you with every thrust.

There was suddenly a shuffling on the other side of your privacy door, and Taehyung froze his movements immediately, adjusting the blanket so that you two were hidden perfectly under the covers. His hand came over the blanket, pulling you into him protectively as he kept his cock sheathed inside of you.

A sleepy Jimin suddenly stood up, his head peeking out from over the wall. He glanced over at the two of you, his headphones still on his ears. Taehyung lifted his head casually, giving his friend a quick nod as you nestled your face into the blanket, hiding your expression from the world.

"I can't sleep, Jungkook keeps knocking my arm off my armrest," Jimin said with a sleepy grumble, his eyes barely open. He looked over the wall at how intimately cuddled up you two were, and he let out a chuckle.

"Get a room, you two. Not all of us have a girlfriend to bring with us to Spain."

Taehyung grinned. "This is our room," he gestured to the privacy wall.

Jimin laughed before shuffling down the aisle towards the bathroom.

As soon as the coast was clear, Taehyung licked a wet stripe right under your ear, his hips moving teasingly against you again. His fingers immediately found their way back to your clit, kneading your sensitive bud gently and with expert precision.

"Oh-," you whined, the feeling of your boyfriend using you, wearing you like a toy on the plane, made your head roll back against his chest. Your build-up resumed, the push of your boyfriend's cock against your fluttering walls bringing you embarrassingly close to a climax already.

"You have to learn how to keep quiet when I want to fuck you in public, sweetheart," he growled into your ear, his fingers still maintaining the torturous firm pressure on your swollen clit as he continued fucking his cock deep and slow into your aching heat. "How can I make the best of your time on tour with me if you're always so needy for attention?"

You struggled to contain your desperate whines and pants.

"I'm sorry, baby," you said through your hums. "Can't help it, you feel so fucking good."

Taehyung grinned at your sweet words, his thrusting getting a little faster.

"Yeah, hm? You like the way I make you feel, angel? You like getting free-used up here in the sky with me?"

You nodded, your knot in your stomach already painfully tight, threatening to snap. Taehyung's fingers on you were relentless, rubbing your clit so perfectly, groaning at the reactions your body gave him.

"You're-so tight around me-fuck," he hissed into your ear. "Already so close for me."

His rhythm grew erratic, a sign that his climax was taking over him soon. His lips were pinched between his teeth, brows furrowed as he chased his high deep inside of you. The pace of his fingers on your clit picked up, every nerve in your body burning as your orgasm took over you.

"I'm cumming, Tae, I'm fucking-"

You interrupted yourself with a definitely a little too loud moan, and Taehyung's large hand came up from your hip to cover your mouth.

"Not too loud, dove, we don't want to have to stop before it's over."

Your cries were silenced into your boyfriend's large hand as your peak shook through your whole body, like a shockwave coursing through your veins from his touch until you were left trembling, twitching, and panting.

Taehyung grinned at your erotic afterglow, his hands returning to your hip as he fucked you through your throes of pleasure.

"Gonna ruin this fucking pussy right here, baby," he groaned. "Wanna feel myself drip out of you with Namjoon-hyung asleep right behind us."

You nodded desperately; the filth of his words was enough to make you clench around him uncontrollably. Taehyung's fingers tightened their grip on your hip as he knocked himself harder into you, sheathing himself all the way down to the bone of his hips until his head dropped forward onto your shoulder.

"Take it, baby."

His warm, desperate spurts filled you up in hot, needy pulses. You bit your lip to muffle your cries as he whimpered into your ear, fucking his own seed deeper into you with every movement.

"Hnng, love breeding this fucking cunt," he hissed into your ear, his slew of dirty talk along with the sensation of being filled up by him sending stars to your eyes, and you dropped your head desperately against your boyfriend's chest.

He dropped his head forward, resting his chin on the top of your head as you two came down from your highs together, quietly and in the secrecy of your little first-class chamber. Taehyung pressed a kiss to your shoulder before readjusting the blanket, draping it over your shoulders now.

His length still remained buried in you, twitching and bouncing with the flex of his abdomen, like a little reminder of how much he craved you. Taehyung nudged himself into you a little further, a sleepy stir of remaining arousal and love swirling in your chest.

"Let's get at least another hour or two of sleep in," he murmured, his hand coming up to pet your hair, soothing you to sleep. "And we'll deal with our mess later."

Jimin appeared again in the aisle, the view of you and Taehyung snuggled up so closely, making him let out a little sigh.

"Taehyung-ah, you act like you're in a hotel room already," he whispered as he sat back down in his seat.

Taehyung just looked up at him and gave him a little nod and a wink, his arm tightening around your waist.

"Get some sleep, Jimin."

Jimin nodded with half-open eyes before disappearing behind the other side of the wall again.

Taehyung reached forward into the seat pocket and fished out his eye mask, slipping it sweetly onto your head.

"Sleep tight, angel," he cooed, pulling you into his chest again. "Thanks for coming to Madrid."

"Always," you murmured, the sleep already taking over your body.

Only the two of you knew the warm, loving mess between you under the blanket, and you were going to keep it that way.

────୨ৎ────

my nervousness around flying has suddenly evaporated

————

𝐣𝐢𝐧

he is clingy in the most dramatically adorable way possible, turning every little moment of separation into a full theatrical performance that somehow melts your heart instead of annoying you. Seokjin doesn’t just want your attention — he needs it like oxygen, and he’s not afraid to be extra about it. He complains constantly that you don’t give him enough love, even though he’s the one blowing up your phone and showing up unannounced like a lovesick prince who can’t survive without his favorite person.

“Baby, you haven’t looked at me in ten whole minutes,” he whines dramatically, flopping onto the couch beside you with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead like he’s fainting. “I’m dying here. Actually dying. Is your phone more interesting than Worldwide Handsome? Be honest.” He says it with that signature pout, lips pushed forward, eyes wide and sparkling with mischief, but underneath it all there’s real longing. He craves your eyes on him, only him.

when you take more than five minutes to reply to his texts, he sends the most extra selfies. A photo of him making the biggest, saddest bico (pout) imaginable, maybe with a hand on his chest like his heart is breaking. “I’ve been waiting for 7 minutes and 42 seconds… are you ignoring me now? After everything we’ve been through?” The next message is usually a voice note in his dramatic voice: “Jin is very sad right now. Jin needs attention. Please come save Jin.” He knows it’s ridiculous. He does it anyway because your laugh when you finally reply makes everything worth it.

he appears out of nowhere just because he misses you. You’ll be in your room working, focused on something, when the door slowly opens and there he is, leaning against the frame with a dramatic sigh. “I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt this… emptiness. Like part of my soul was missing.” He walks over, wraps his arms around you from behind and buries his face in your neck. “I missed you so much. Did you miss me? Say it. Say it like you mean it.” Even if you saw each other two hours ago.

he makes full-blown drama about everything. “You like your laptop more than me. I can see it in your eyes,” he declares while dramatically throwing himself across your bed. “I cooked your favorite meal, I sent you memes, I even did the aegyo you like… and still you choose the screen over me? This is betrayal. Pure betrayal.” But the second you look at him and give him attention, his whole face lights up, dimples deep and eyes turning into happy crescents as he pulls you into his arms.

his clinginess is loud, proud, and impossibly cute. In the dorm, he’ll sit right next to you on the couch, thigh pressed against yours, arm around your shoulders, playing with your hair while complaining, “The members get more of your laughs than I do. This is unfair. I’m the funniest one here.” If someone else talks to you for too long, he starts fake-crying. “She’s forgetting me… my girlfriend is leaving me for Jungkook’s bunny smile. I should just go eat alone and cry into my ramyeon.”

he constantly pulls you into his lap, no matter where you are. “Come here, I need my daily dose of you,” he says, grabbing your waist and settling you against his chest. Once you’re there, he wraps his arms around you tightly and sighs happily, resting his chin on your shoulder. If you try to get up, he whines loudly, “Nooo, five more minutes! I’m recharging. You’re my charger.”

when you’re busy with work or studying, he sits nearby doing his own thing… but not really. Every few minutes he glances over, sighs loudly, and says things like “I’m dying of loneliness over here” or “My handsome face is going to waste because no one is looking at it.” He sends you selfies from two meters away. Selfies with captions like “Notice me senpai~” or “Your boyfriend is feeling neglected.”

at night he becomes even more dramatic. He pulls you close under the blankets, legs tangled with yours, arms locked around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear while he sleeps. “Don’t leave me even in your dreams, okay?” he whispers, pressing soft kisses all over your face. If you move even slightly, he wakes up immediately. “Where are you going? The bed is cold now. Come back and love me.”

he’s the king of guilt-tripping in the cutest way. “I made you lunch and you didn’t even send me a heart emoji… I see how it is.” Or “You replied to the group chat faster than to me. I’m going to cry. Actually, I’m already crying. Look at these tears.” (There are no tears, just the biggest pout you’ve ever seen.)

but underneath all the drama and loud complaints is the softest, most sincere love. When he says “Look at me. Only at me,” it’s because you’re his favorite person in the world and he genuinely feels happier, brighter, and more complete when your attention is on him. He shows up unannounced because being away from you for too long feels wrong. He sends pouty photos because making you smile is his favorite thing. He clings to you so tightly because he nevebr wants to let go.

Seokjin’s clingy love is loud, theatrical, and overflowing with affection. He may complain that you don’t give him enough attention, but he’s the one who keeps coming back for more, again and again, with dramatic sighs, adorable pouts, surprise visits, and endless “I missed you”

Because in his world, there’s nothing better than having your eyes on him, your arms around him, and your laughter filling the space between his silly complaints. And he’ll keep being the most dramatically clingy boyfriend in the world… as long as you keep looking at him like he’s your whole universe too.

————

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚

he’s clingy in the most silent, heavy, and intense way possible. Yoongi doesn’t need many words — his love shows up in quiet presence, heavy stares, and an almost gravitational pull toward you. He pretends to be indifferent, the cool, low-energy genius who doesn’t need anyone too close. But with you, that facade is paper-thin. He hates being away from you, even when he acts like he doesn’t care. His clinginess is quiet, but it runs deep, like a current you can feel under still water.

he watches you all the time. Not in an obvious, dramatic way — just constant, quiet observation. In the studio, while he’s working on a beat, his eyes drift to you every few minutes. When you’re in the same room, he tracks your movements without saying anything. The way you tuck your hair behind your ear, how you bite your lip when focused, the small sigh you make when you’re tired. He notices everything. Sometimes you catch him staring and he just looks away slowly, like it’s no big deal, but the intensity in his gaze lingers.

he leans on you like it’s automatic, like his body needs yours to stay grounded. On the couch, his shoulder presses against yours. In the car, his hand rests on your thigh without thinking. When you’re standing together, he leans his head lightly against your arm or back, breathing quietly like your presence alone recharges him. He never asks for permission — it just happens. If you move even slightly, he follows without a word, seeking that contact again.

if you leave his side, he becomes too quiet. The moment you get up to grab water or go to another room, the energy in the space shifts. He doesn’t complain or call after you. He just goes completely silent. Headphones on, staring at his screen, but not really working. The members notice how his typing slows down or how he keeps glancing toward the door. When you come back, he doesn’t say anything, but his body relaxes instantly and he pulls you back close again — a hand reaching for yours, an arm around your waist, a soft sigh of relief only you can hear.

his messages are short and dry, but heavy with worry. “Where are you?” at 9:47 pm when you’re out later than usual. “You okay?” when you haven’t replied in a while. No emojis, no long paragraphs. Just those few words that carry everything he doesn’t say out loud. If you take too long to answer, he doesn’t spam you — he just gets quieter in person later, pulling you into his lap or against his chest like he needs to reassure himself you’re really there.

he pretends he doesn’t mind the distance, but he hates it. “Go ahead, I’m fine,” he says in that low, raspy voice when you mention going out with friends or having a busy day. He acts unbothered, maybe even gives you a small smirk. But the second you’re gone, the studio feels too big, the bed too empty, and his thoughts keep circling back to you. He works more intensely when you’re not around, like he’s trying to fill the space you left, but it never quite works.

he shows his clinginess through small, heavy actions. When you sit together, he pulls your legs over his lap without asking. At night, he wraps himself around you completely — chest pressed to your back, arm locked around your waist, face buried in your neck. He holds you like he’s afraid the night might take you away. If you try to move, his grip tightens just a little, followed by a sleepy mumble: “Stay.”

in public, his clinginess is more subtle but still intense. His hand finds yours in crowded places, fingers laced tightly. At events, he stays close, shoulder brushing yours, eyes scanning the room but always returning to you. He doesn’t say much, but the way he positions himself between you and the crowd speaks volumes.

he gets especially quiet and intense when he’s missed you. After long schedules or days apart, he doesn’t run to you with dramatic hugs. He just appears beside you, pulls you close, and stays there. No big words. Just his warmth, his steady breathing, and that heavy, comforting presence that says everything. Sometimes he’ll rest his forehead against yours and close his eyes, like he’s soaking you in.

That’s his vibe in its purest form. He doesn’t need to explain how much he needs you. He shows it by being there — always watching, always touching, always pulling you back into his orbit the moment there’s any distance. His love is silent but incredibly heavy, the kind that wraps around you and doesn’t let go.

Yoongi may act like he’s fine on his own, like the independent, cool Agust D who doesn’t get attached. But with you, he becomes someone who quietly hates every second you’re not beside him. He observes you like you’re his favorite melody, leans into you like you’re his safe place, and holds you like he never wants to let go.

Because even in complete silence, his clingy, intense love is loud in every small touch, every quiet stare, and every dry message that really means “I need you here with me.” And he’ll keep being that silently clingy version of himself — as long as you let him stay close.

————

𝐣-𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞

he is clingy in the most energetic, bright, and almost desperate way possible — like his love for you is a sun that never stops shining and refuses to let even a single cloud come between you two. Hoseok’s affection is loud, warm, and overflowing with energy. He doesn’t just want you close… he needs you close, like you’re the main source of his sunshine. And when you’re not around, everyone can tell — his usual bright aura dims, his smile becomes a little smaller, and the dance studio feels strangely quieter.

he calls you all the time, inventing the smallest excuses just to hear your voice or see your face. “Jagiya, come here really quick! I need your opinion on this new choreography,”excessive attachment, jealousy, soft obsession,he says excitedly on the phone, even though he already knows what he wants to do. You show up thinking it’ll be fifteen minutes… and suddenly three hours have passed. He pulls you into the practice room, plays the song, dances while holding your hands, laughs loudly, and keeps finding new reasons to make you stay. “Wait, wait — now tell me if this part looks better like this or like that.” Anything to keep you there a little longer.

when you’re not near him, he loses his energy. The usually hyper, sunshine Hoseok becomes quieter, less talkative, his movements slower. The members notice immediately. “Hyung, you’ve been staring at your phone for twenty minutes without moving,” Jimin teases. Hoseok just laughs softly and says “I’m fine,” but his leg keeps bouncing and he keeps checking the time, waiting for the moment he can call you again. Your presence is literally his battery — without it, the light dims.

he hugs you like he’s trying to keep you forever. His arms wrap around you tightly, almost desperately, squeezing you against his chest as if he could merge you two into one person. He lifts you off the ground sometimes, spinning you around while laughing brightly, then buries his face in your neck and holds you there for long seconds. “Don’t go yet,” he whispers against your skin, voice still cheerful but with a hint of real need. His hugs feel like safety, warmth, and a silent promise that he never wants to let go.

he smiles so much when you’re with him — that big, beautiful, eye-smiling smile that lights up entire rooms. He laughs at everything you say, even when it’s not that funny. He takes hundreds of photos of you (and selfies of both of you) because “I need to save this moment forever.” But the second you say you have to leave, that smile falters. It doesn’t disappear completely — he’s still Hoseok — but it becomes softer, a little sad, almost pleading. “Already? But we were having so much fun…”

That’s his mantra. He says it while holding your hand, while pulling you back to the couch, while hugging you at the door. Five more minutes turns into thirty. Thirty turns into an hour. He’ll follow you to the elevator, still holding your hand, still smiling but with those slightly sad eyes. “Just until the car arrives, okay? I’ll miss you too much.”

he gets adorably dramatic when you have to go. “My sunshine is leaving me… how am I supposed to dance now? How am I supposed to smile?” He pouts cutely, doing aegyo on purpose to make you stay longer, then laughs at himself and pulls you into another bone-crushing hug. When you finally leave, he stands at the window or door watching you go, waving enthusiastically until you’re out of sight. Then he sighs, the bright energy dropping again until the next time he can call you.

even at night his clinginess doesn’t stop. He video calls you before bed just to say goodnight, but the call lasts an hour because he keeps finding new topics. When you’re together, he cuddles impossibly close — legs tangled, arms locked around you, face pressed against your chest or neck. “Stay with me until I fall asleep?” he asks softly, even though he knows he’ll try to keep you awake as long as possible.

he’s desperate in the sweetest way. Desperate for your laugh, your touch, your attention. If you’re busy for a whole day, he sends messages every couple of hours: funny memes, videos of him dancing, voice notes saying “I miss my favorite person.” When you finally meet again, he runs to you, picks you up and spins you around, hugging you so tightly you can barely breathe. “Never leave me for that long again, okay? My heart gets sad.”

Hoseok’s clingy love is pure sunshine mixed with a deep, almost desperate need to keep you by his side. He may be the brightest member, the one who lifts everyone’s mood, but you are his personal source of light. Without you, the world feels a little less colorful. So he calls, he hugs, he smiles, he begs for “just a little more time” — because every second with you makes his heart feel full in a way nothing else can.

And even when he’s waving goodbye with that brave smile, you know he’s already counting the minutes until he can say "Come here quickly"  again… because for J-Hope, “a little more” is never really enough when it comes to you. He wants all of your time, all of your presence, and all of your love — and he’ll give you every drop of his sunshine in return.

————

𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧

he’s clingy in the most emotional, intense, sweet, and almost dependent way imaginable. Jimin doesn’t just want to be close to you — he needs you like air. His love is soft on the surface but carries a deep emotional weight, like his heart is quietly terrified that one day you might slip away. He follows you around the house without even realizing he’s doing it, always a few steps behind, like a little puppy who can’t bear any distance between you two.

he touches you constantly, as if his body needs constant reassurance that you’re real and you’re his. His hand finds yours without thinking, fingers intertwining naturally. When you’re sitting together, his head rests on your shoulder, or his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer. Even when you’re cooking, he’ll come up behind you, chin on your shoulder, arms around your middle, swaying gently while humming. It’s never overwhelming, just constant, warm, and full of quiet affection. If there’s any space between you, he closes it immediately, like it physically hurts him.

he follows you everywhere. You get up to grab a glass of water? He’s right behind you. You go to the bedroom to change? He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you with those big, sparkling eyes. “I just wanted to be with you,” he says softly when you notice, smiling like it’s the most normal thing in the world. He doesn’t even realize how attached he is — it’s pure instinct.

he gets incredibly needy when you talk to other people. If you’re laughing with one of the members or giving attention to someone else, Jimin becomes quiet, a little pout forming on his lips. He doesn’t interrupt, but he’ll move closer, resting his head on your arm or slipping his hand into yours, silently asking for your focus again. Later, when you’re alone, he’ll use that soft, tiny voice: "Are you mad at me?"  even when you’re not. He asks it so cutely, eyes wide and slightly anxious, because the thought of you being upset with him breaks his heart a little.

his emotional side comes out strongly at night. Jimin loves sleeping close to you — extremely close. He curls up against your body like he was made to fit there perfectly. Legs tangled with yours, chest pressed to your back, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, face buried in your neck. He falls asleep breathing you in, but even in his sleep his grip doesn’t loosen. If you move even a little, he wakes up halfway, mumbling sleepily “Don’t go… stay with me” and pulls you back tighter. He needs the warmth, the closeness, the feeling of your heartbeat against him.

when you have to leave, even for a few hours, his clinginess becomes more obvious. He holds you at the door for longer than necessary, face hidden in your neck, squeezing you like he’s trying to memorize how you feel. “Just five more minutes…” he whispers, even though you both know it’ll turn into ten, fifteen. When you finally pull away, he stands there watching you go with that beautiful but slightly sad smile, waving until you disappear. Then he sighs, already counting the minutes until you come back.

he sends the softest messages when you’re apart. Voice notes in that gentle, sweet tone: “I miss you already… when are you coming back?” or “Can you send me a photo? I want to see your face.” If you take a while to reply, he doesn’t get dramatic — he just gets quieter, a little more emotional, waiting patiently but with his heart feeling heavy.

he’s intensely dependent on your affection. A single hug from you can fix his whole day. When he’s tired after practice, he seeks you out immediately, melting into your arms with a soft sigh of relief. “You make everything better,” he murmurs against your skin, voice low and full of feeling. He looks at you like you hold his entire world in your hands, because in his heart, you really do.

sometimes his clinginess makes him vulnerable. He’ll look at you with those expressive eyes and say quietly, “I know I’m a lot sometimes… but I can’t help it. When you’re not here, it feels like something is missing.” He gets shy after admitting it, hiding his face in your chest, but the honesty is so pure and raw that it makes you fall for him even harder.

That’s exactly how he feels. Every time you leave, it’s like you’re taking a piece of him with you. So he clings — emotionally, physically, desperately but sweetly. He follows you, touches you, needs you, loves you with every fiber of his being in the most tender and intense way.

Jimin’s clingy love is like a warm blanket you never want to take off. Soft, emotional, and so full of devotion that it wraps around your heart and refuses to let go. He may be the sweetest, most affectionate person in the world, but with you he becomes even softer — a man who just wants to stay close, stay loved, and stay yours forever.

Because for him, the best place in the world is right beside you, touching you, breathing the same air as you. And he’ll keep following you, holding you, and whispering “don’t go” with that beautiful, loving gaze… for as long as you’ll let him.

————

𝐯

he’s clingy in the strangest, most artistic, and breathtakingly beautiful way possible. Taehyung doesn’t love you in ordinary ways. His affection is poetic, surreal, and deeply intense — like he sees the entire universe inside you and wants to capture every second of your existence. He doesn’t just want you close… he wants to experience you, observe you, turn moments with you into living art. His clinginess is quiet, unexpected, and full of wonder.

he looks at you like you’re his greatest masterpiece. Those deep, expressive eyes stay on you for long moments, as if he’s trying to memorize every curve of your face, every shade in your eyes, every small movement of your lips. Sometimes you catch him staring and he doesn’t look away. He just tilts his head slightly, a soft, dreamy smile forming, like he’s seeing colors and light no one else can. “You’re so beautiful… like a painting that moves,” he whispers once, voice low and sincere, before going quiet again, still watching.

he takes secret photos of you all the time. Not in a creepy way — in a reverent, artistic way. You’ll be reading a book, looking out the window, or simply laughing at something and he’ll quietly raise his phone, capturing the moment like it’s sacred. Later, you find them in his gallery: candid shots with golden hour lighting, black and white filters, or edited with his own drawings and notes in the corners. “I couldn’t help it,” he says softly when you discover them. “You looked like poetry.”

he holds your hand without any warning. In the middle of walking, while you’re cooking, even when you’re both scrolling on your phones — his long fingers suddenly slide between yours, gripping gently but firmly, like he needs the connection to stay grounded in reality. Sometimes he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles while looking at you, saying nothing. Other times he just holds it against his chest so you can feel his heartbeat, steady and warm.

he keeps calling you for the most random, whimsical things just to keep you near. “Jagiya, come here for a second. I need your opinion on this cloud,” he says, pulling you to the window. Or “Let’s listen to this song together right now — I think it was written for your eyes.” What starts as “five minutes” becomes hours of him playing piano for you, showing you his new drawings, or lying on the floor together staring at the ceiling while he talks about dreams and galaxies. He always finds new excuses. He needs your presence like an artist needs his muse.

sometimes he becomes completely quiet, just watching you breathe. He’ll lie beside you in bed, propped up on one elbow, eyes tracing the rise and fall of your chest, the way your eyelashes flutter, the peace on your face. No words. Just pure, intense observation. If you ask what he’s doing, he answers in that deep, velvet voice: “I’m studying you. I want to remember how life looks when it’s inside you.” Then he leans in and presses the softest kiss to your forehead, lingering there like he’s sealing the moment forever.

his clinginess is artistic and unpredictable. He’ll suddenly pull you into his lap while he’s painting, resting his chin on your shoulder so he can work with you close. He takes you on spontaneous midnight drives just to watch the city lights reflect in your eyes. He writes your name in the condensation on the bathroom mirror after you shower. He collects small things that remind him of you — a flower petal, a ticket stub, a strand of your hair he keeps between pages of his favorite book.

when you have to leave, even for a short time, his artistic soul feels the absence deeply. He doesn’t whine loudly like Jin. Instead, he gets softer, more melancholic. He hugs you at the door for a long time, arms wrapped around you, breathing you in like he’s trying to store your scent for later. “Come back soon,” he murmurs against your hair. “The colors feel wrong when you’re gone.”

he sends you the most beautiful, random messages. Photos of sunsets with captions like “This reminded me of the way you smile.” Voice notes of him humming songs he wrote thinking about your hands. Sometimes he just sends a single heart emoji at 3 a.m. because he woke up and missed the sound of your breathing beside him.

he’s emotionally and artistically dependent on your presence. You are his favorite color, his favorite melody, his favorite form of art. When you’re together, the world feels more vivid to him. He becomes more inspired, more alive. And when you’re apart, he carries pieces of you in his art, in his thoughts, in the way he touches everything with the same gentleness he touches you.

That’s exactly how Taehyung loves you. Not casually. Not simply. He loves you like an artist loves his eternal muse — with quiet intensity, with stolen photographs, with long silences filled with admiration, with sudden hand-holding and random invitations to exist together. He doesn’t just cling to your body. He clings to your soul, to your light, to every small detail that makes you who you are.

Because to Kim Taehyung, you aren’t just the person he loves.

You are living art. 

You are poetry in human form. 

And he will keep observing, capturing, and holding onto you in the most beautiful, strange, and devoted way possible — for as long as you let him stay by your side, quietly creating masterpieces out of every shared breath.

————

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤

he’s clingy in the most intense, competitive, and protective way possible. Jungkook doesn’t do anything halfway — especially not when it comes to you. You are his favorite person, his favorite routine, his safe place, and he wants to be part of every single second of your day. He tries to play it cool, calling it “just looking out for you,” but everyone can see it’s pure, deep, unstoppable clinginess mixed with that golden maknae competitiveness and his strong instinct to protect what he loves.

he wants to be near you all the time. Literally always. If you’re in the living room, he’s there. If you move to the kitchen, he follows two steps behind like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You’ll be brushing your teeth and suddenly see him leaning against the bathroom door, arms crossed, watching you with that soft but intense gaze. “What? I was just passing by,” he says with a shy smile, but he stays right there until you’re done. He follows you around the house so naturally that it feels like you two are magnetically connected.

he touches you constantly. His hand finds your waist when you’re standing, pulling you gently against his side. His shoulder brushes yours when you walk together. He rests his chin on top of your head when you’re cooking, arms wrapped around you from behind. Even when you’re sitting on the couch, his leg is pressed against yours, or his fingers are playing with the hem of your shirt. The touches are warm, firm, and almost possessive — like he needs the physical reminder that you’re really there with him.

he gets adorably sulky when you give attention to others. It’s subtle at first — a small pout, a little frown, his bunny teeth disappearing as his lips press together. If you’re laughing with Jimin or talking too long with Taehyung, Jungkook suddenly becomes extra competitive. He’ll start showing off: doing push-ups in the living room, singing loudly, or coming over and wrapping his arms around you from behind while saying casually, “Baby, come help me with something.” He doesn’t get angry, but that little jealous pout appears and only goes away when you give him your full attention again.

he’s extremely protective, even in small things. “Wear this hoodie, it’s colder today,” he says, already putting it over your shoulders. If you’re going out, he checks the weather, makes sure you ate, and texts you “let me know when you get there, okay?” He says it’s just him being responsible, but the truth is he worries the second you’re not under his watch. When you’re together in public, he walks on the side closer to the street, keeps a hand on your lower back, and scans the surroundings like he’s ready to fight anyone who looks at you the wrong way.

"I'm just looking out for you,"  he repeats often, with that sincere, slightly shy look. But you both know it’s more than that. It’s carência. It’s the way his chest feels lighter when you’re close. It’s how he sleeps best when you’re curled up against him, his arm locked around your waist like an anchor. At night he pulls you as close as physically possible, chest pressed to your back, nose buried in your hair, legs tangled with yours. If you try to move away even a little, he makes a small, sleepy sound and tightens his hold.

he turns everyday moments into his favorite routine. Morning workouts? He wants you there watching or working out with him. Gaming session? He pulls you onto his lap so you can play together. Cooking? He’s hugging you from behind the entire time. Even when he’s focused on his own projects — music, workouts, drawing — he keeps stealing glances at you and eventually gives up, coming over to rest his head on your lap or pull you into his arms. “I work better when you’re near,” he admits quietly.

his competitiveness shows even in his clinginess. If one of the members hugs you for too long, Jungkook is suddenly there, lifting you up in his strong arms and carrying you away while laughing. “My turn,” he says playfully, but there’s a real edge of “she’s mine” in his eyes. He loves winning your attention, your laughs, your time. He wants to be your favorite person just as much as you are his.

when you have to leave, even for a few hours, he becomes extra intense. He walks you to the door, hugs you tightly, buries his face in your neck and sighs deeply. “Come back soon, okay? The house feels empty without you.” He texts you throughout the day — not too much, but enough. Photos of his food, videos of him working out, random “I miss you” messages with that cute pout selfie. When you finally return, he lights up completely, picking you up and spinning you around before carrying you straight to the couch to cuddle.

he’s intense about the little things too. He remembers exactly how you like your coffee, what makes you laugh the most, which side of the bed you prefer. He competes with himself to be better for you every day — stronger, sweeter, more present. Because to Jungkook, loving you is a full-time commitment, and he throws his whole heart into it.

"You are my favorite routine."

That’s the deepest truth. His days feel better when they start and end with you. He loves the ordinary moments — brushing teeth together, sharing snacks, quiet evenings where he can hold you close while playing games. You’re not just someone he loves. You’re his peace, his motivation, his favorite part of every single day.

Jungkook’s clingy love is intense, protective, and beautifully devoted. He follows you, touches you, watches over you, and gets a little sulky when your attention strays because you’ve become the center of his world. He may say he’s “just taking care of you,” but the way he holds you like you might disappear, the way his eyes soften when you’re near, and the way he smiles the brightest when you’re in his arms… it all says the same thing.

You are his favorite routine. 

And he never wants to break it.

© stlllle — 2O26

They were.

Though now, he looks like nothing more than a neutered puppy. The man's whimpering certainly doesn’t help with the picture either. It almost makes Seokjin want to laugh.

Namjoon is crouched on the other side of the body– body because that is simply what this man is, if he doesn’t start to give them answers. He doesn’t have much of a face left now anyway, so he might as well be.

The pack alpha’s hand is fisted into the betas hair, the tendon in his arms twitching from the effort of forcing the man's head into the ground over, and over, and over again. Slamming his head into the cold hardwood floor of the office, other bodies scattered around their forms. 

The pool of red is still growing.

The pack alpha is huffing, there is a glorious fire in his eyes. Seokjin thinks he looks beautiful. 

“Should I ask you again?” Seokjin questions, head tilting to the side. A small, placid smile dotting the corner of his lips, condescension radiating from his entire being as Namjoon pulls the man's head up just high enough once more.

What an ugly thing he has become. Maybe he’s the unlucky one, the lucky ones are probably the corpses scattered across the floor. At least they didn’t have to undergo their combined fury. 

He should have just given Seokjin the answers he wanted already. 

Seokjin sighs once more, looking up at Namjoon, “It doesn’t seem like he wants to, does it?”

Seokjin registers the opening of the office door. Huh, he really did not think anyone else was in the house today. Not that it matters much, Seokjin will deal with them the exact same way. 

He sighs, closing his eyes as he stands. His arms feel tight in his suit, but he raises one anyway. Cresting it on the same side of his neck where Namjoon had left his bite, using its force to aid him in cracking his neck. 

Seokjin doesn’t have time to dilly dally. He’ll be sure to make this quick. 

The intruder relieves a sharp gasp from his lungs, the lazy drawl of Seokjin’s lids to draw upwards, taking him in for the very first time.

Soft, perfectly cut straight brown hair. Large doe eyes. Perfectly sculpted nose with little moles dotting around his face in constallations.

Seokjin’s recognition of him is instantaneous. 

Jeon Jeongguk. 23. Important. 

The Jeon pack alpha’s only child. The last progeny remaining in their all-alpha familial line. 

Well damn, Seokjin was sure he wasn’t here. From the information Seokjin gathered before setting out to the groups's territory, the kid was practically treated as royalty. Spoiled rotten, coddled. There were even rumours he had never gone outside before. 

Seokjin didn’t believe them, of course not, that would be a rather auspicious thing to do. But with how much he had heard about Jeongguk’s treatment, he didn't think they would just let the kid wander around on his own in a clan meeting house like this. He doubted Jeongguk would be involved in territorial conflicts at all. He was a member of the familial pack, not the territorial one like Seokjin… interogates… now. The distinction is clear as clear as day. 

Looks like his intel may have been wrong. 

Not only is he here and involved with them, he looks like a deer in headlights. His cheeks are turning a bright shade of red. It looks as though there are sparkles in his eyes. To be honest, Seokjin is taken aback. He isn’t sure what reaction he was expecting, but not something so… passionate. Something so devoted. 

Is…. is this kid staring at  Namjoon with… admiration…? While Namjoon has Jeongguk’s mom’s right hand is in a bloodied heap on the floor?

Huh. Well, this is certainly a surprising change of tune.

“S-Sir! Please leave! Don’t get yourself involved with this!” Huh, so the body still did have a voice. He was sure Namjoon had squeezed it out of him by now. Regardless, the words have Seokjin turning his head back towards the mess on the floor, back towards his alpha. 

Oh. Seokjin’s eyes go wide. 

Namjoon is staring right back at Jeongguk, that same star-crossed lovers expression on his face. Looking at him like the universe just changed for the better. 

Turning back towards the younger, Seokjin confirms it– they are simply enamoured with one another.

When he makes the motion, when all the attention in the room is directly only at Jeongguk, it is clear the kid notices. His posture straightens, his chest puffing out just slightly. The most determined look that Seokjin has ever seen is as obvious as ever written across his features. 

One of his arms raises up– certainly not the arms of someone who has had experience fighting– a single finger pointing towards both Seokjin and Namjoon. A cocksure smile on the pure alphas lips. 

The world spins. This is nothing like Seokjin had been expecting out of the day. 

“I want you.” He pauses, the determined smile blooming brighter. Seokjin doesn’t know how the kid could be so positive in such a thing– Seokjin needs time to fall, he guesses Jeongguk doesn’t. “Both of you.”

A sickening crack sounds throughout the room, the betas death as clear as day, though no one really pays attention. Instead, everything revolves around Namjoon rising to a stand right next to Seokjin, a similar smile on his own face.

“I feel like there are a few questions you should be asking instead of just saying something so bold.” All the rage Namjoon spoke with before the entry of Jeongguk is gone, a similar confident air in his tone. “Like who are we, why are we in your office. Why we just killed your clans beta.” 

“I don’t care.” Jeongguk, though Seokjin just met him, looks like he’s never been more sure of anything in his life. “I didn’t like him anyway. He was shitty at taking care of me.” 

Spoiled. 

Namjoon hums, “Shouldn’t you be worried we’re going to kill you, too?”

Jeongguk thinks for a second, eyes looking up at the ceiling as he considers. “No. You want me.” 

Maybe not spoiled. Maybe just sheltered if he thinks that simply about such things.  

“You’ll have to deal with a few more than just us.” Namjoon leans forward a bit, the air around him bending to his will. Haughty. Attractive. “We have 4 other mates.” 

Oh. Jeongguk now looks as though he is simply vibrating with delight. His teeth– ones Seokjin notices look like a bunnies– make an appearance, biting his lower lip. 

“I want them, too.” 

Well, Seokjin’s dealings are certain to become a lot more smooth from this point onwards. 

NOW.

Jeongguk hasn’t slept. 

Well, okay, to be honest, he’s not sure he remembers the last time he actually had a full nights rest. 

Wait– no, that isn’t true either. The last night he did it was the night after he saw you for the first time, he remembers it clearly, actually. He would rather die than forget it. He would never in a million years forget dreaming of you. 

He was in the woods, you were there too, obviously. Scampering between trees, looking so cute and playful. God, you were so fucking adorable– calling out to him, asking him to chase you. 

Fuck, who was he to say no? He simply he complied. He would be an idiot to deny you of anything ever. 

When he caught you? It felt like the last of his dreams had finally come true. 

You were giggling underneath him, his body pinning you down by your shoulders. Your eyes in the prettiest little crests that he kissed over and over again. 

He remembers the end, where you made him promise to find you when he woke up, too. 

…Yeah.

He hasn’t had a full night's rest since then. But especially last night, last night he didn’t get a wink. Not even the half-hearted nap he usually gets by on. 

How was he supposed to sleep after Joon broke the news that they would be going to your house the very next day? The house that he knows belongs to you now, all thanks to Yoongi. The house where– where–

Jeongguk clenches his fist, lets his nails dig into the skin of his palms as a way to manage the putrid smell that was already beginning to leak from his pores. In the tight confines of the armoured truck, he knows everyone else will be able to smell it. 

Should he really care? Probably not. But he doesn’t want the second– first?--  time you smell him to be so… so unpleasant. He wants you to smell the real him. The alpha who your heart and soul belong to, the one you’ll build a future with. The one that can provide for you, that can take you out of whatever hell you’ve been keeping yourself in–

How long would it take before you let him give you a bite? How long will it take for you to give one to him?

Soon, hopefully. God, he can’t even count how many times he’s stroked his cock to the thought of your cute little fangs piercing the skin of his neck. How blown out your eyes would be with pretty red dotting your mouth. Do you even know that he saved the left side of his neck for you? Waited so many years just for his perfect omega to leave tangible evidence on his skin of your simple belonging to one another. 

… Well, he hasn’t thought about it in awhile, but the point still stands. He hasn’t been able to, not since your face began to retain the essence of a shadowless blob whenever you appear in his mind, when you appear in front of him. Just…just out of reach. 

Fucking had been in reach for over two weeks. 

His top lip curls at the thought. He reminds himself to stop thinking such shitty things. 

It doesn’t work.

He just needs to see you, and then everything will be right again. He’ll be able to protect you. His pack will be complete. The last piece of his soul, the part that felt like it has been missing will finally click into place. 

Everything will be perfect. 

You’ll be perfect.

Jeongguk forces his head back into reality as the wheels of the vehicle roll to a stop. His neck cocking to the side, deep eyes locking on Seokjin in the driver's seat. The clicking of metal registers in his ears, his hand clenching around the barrel of his semi-automatic a little tighter, the gun propped up against the floor, muzzle facing the sky.

“We're here.” Seokjin hums, completely carefree. Jeongguk isn’t sure how, to be honest. “We have a bit of a hike, if Jimin’s map is right.” 

Today determines the rest of his future… do they not get that? Of course they don’t. They don’t understand what you and him have, no matter how much they might try to. They don’t understand the levels at which his entirety calls out to you. 

He’s already reaching for the handle of the door, his entire body itching to leave, when another voice stops him– Joons’, “Gguk-ah, do a scan for us.”

His nose scrunches up while a little wrinkle finds itself between his brows, “Huh? Why me?” 

That isn’t his job. He’s not good at that sort of thing. 

At that, Joon only shrugs, handing the binoculars back behind him, “I trust you more to do it.” 

Heat washes over Jeongguk instantly. The simple words have an even simpler effect on his body– his ears and eyes perk up a bit more, right alone with his chest swelling. No matter how much he just wants to get moving, that line has Jeongguk already hauling his upper half through the sunroof of the armoured vehicle, eyes scanning the distance. 

From the top of the hill the pack has managed to find themself on, looking off into the distance is an easy task. Any subtle clearing is discovered, especially the very one they think contains your cabin. 

Jeongguk sees it easily, mentally comparing it to the map he had been studying the entire ride over– the piece of paper that Jimin and Taehyung marked your approximate location on. Seems like they were paying enough attention to get that right, at least. Even if they might have messed up your potential first meeting. 

No. As much as Jeongguk is angry at them, he’s even more upset with Yoongi. At least Jimin and Tae could plead ignorance. What they did was only a reaction to Yoongi.

What Yoongi did to him was straight malice. 

Hiding you. Keeping you after he found out you were an omega. Only confirming it after Jeongguk was on the verge of a breakdown because he couldn’t fucking remember–

He takes another deep breath, centering himself. He’s lucky he’s been practicing the breathing exercises Seokjin-hyung has been prescribing and that the thought of meeting you soon is somewhat settling.

“Yeah. House is where Jimin said.” Jeongguk states, plain as day. Giving one final sweep before getting ready to hop down. Nothing much falling along the dense forest tree line. 

Lucky that autumn was on their side– if it was any warmer out, the tree leafs may have kept you covered. 

“It looks–” Wait, what was that? 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a flash of light in the distance. Too solid to be a solar flare, too obvious to be a trick of the mind. Twisting the lens to make it focus, something different comes into view.

A truck, hardly hidden at all against the trees. Standing out so loudly it might as well be a homing beacon to anyone who wanted to discover its presence. 

“Wait, hyung, I think–” Jeongguk scrunches his eyes, the hard plastic of the binoculars digging into his skin as he pushes his face into them deeper, like that will help him see better. “I think there's a truck over there?” 

“Mm.” He hears the shifting of guns, probably Joon following the direction of his pointed finger from where the first car had already unloaded onto the ground. “About the same distance away as the house?” 

Fuck if he knows, Jeongguk has always been shit with distances. It’s normally Yoongi’s job to take note of the perimeters like this– he still doesn’t know why he’s been put on the case instead. Why has he been given a job when all he wants to do is think about you. It's annoying. 

He doesn’t need to be managed. He doesn’t need to be distracted. 

“Yeah, looks like it.” Jeongguk pulls the binoculars from his face before taking a second to inhale, tasting the scent of the wind on his tongue. He won’t make the same mistake again. 

He pulls himself the rest of the way out of the sunroof, heavy gun clattering against his shoulder as he jumps to the ground with a practiced ease only gained from experience. His form landing with a thud, both feet on the ground as he squats, one balled hand taking the brunt of the force not received by his knees. 

He stands, eyes glued into the distance. 

“We didn’t see any cars out here before.” Jimin’s voice is in his ears, but he half ignores it. He’s not focused on the conversation of his mates right now, all he can think about is the alpha in his head. The one telling him that these are your woods. 

“Tracks.” Taehyung is supplying his mate, just like he always does. 

“Yeah, there were tire tracks, but they didn’t lead to a car or anything.” 

“Hm.” Joon is too analytical. Seokjin, too. 

“Does it really matter?” Hoseok groans out the words– Jeongguk hears him cracking his knuckles, “We don’t have all fucking day, and if these two don’t stop laying it on thick there won’t be hiding from the little doe.” 

Jeongguk knows Hoseok is referring to the pheromones he’s releasing, but he really doesn’t give a shit. At least the alpha is speeding the whole thing up– Jeongguk can feel his muscles burning. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves and just goes to get you himself. 

His patience is a tether that is not withstanding gale force winds. 

“We're triangled right between them.” Jeongguk’s eyes roll, unable to stop himself at the sound of Yoongi’s gruff voice chiming in. He guesses at some point he set up shop looking out of the top of the other car with his sniper. “About 750 meters that way is the car, 875 to the house. 1000 between ‘em, too.” 

Soon, Jeongguk hears the footfalls of Yoongi jumping, followed by the scribbling of a pen on a map. He’s starting to get frustrated with all these semantics. These alleged important parts of the job. 

He still doesn’t understand why they have to be so careful about this. 

You’re his soulmate, you’ll understand even if you are a little scared at first. 

“It would be worth it to check it out, at least.” Seokjin’s voice is there– one of Jeongguk’s only hyungs along with Joon that seems to care about how hungry Jeongguk is to have you already. “If Jimin and Taehyung wrecked her house, she could be staying there for cover.” 

What? Jeongguk’s alpha is howling in pain. How could he let his omega live inside of a car?! Even if it’s just for the night, that’s too much for you to go through. It’s just too much. 

You deserve to be in a nice big house, bundled up in his clothes– not anyone elses right now– relaxing in his big bed, the softest blankets surrounding you while he feeds you the meat he’s hunted.

Joon nods his head, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Jimin, Taehyung, Jeongguk, you go to the truck. Radio us with what you see.”

. . . Jeongguk blinks. 

He blinks again. 

He’s not half listening to the conversation anymore. 

“What?!” His head snaps before his brain can process the words, eyes finally leaving the distant trees you resided in for so long. So long, all alone. So long without him. 

…You missed him, right? Don’t worry, you won’t have to for much longer. 

They want him to go with them to the fucking car?! To the fucking car instead of your house?! They’re insane. Fucking insane. The growl is already in his tone before he can manage to stop it. “No.”

Hoseok’s expression is bored, Namjoon’s is blank, Seokjin’s is sympathetic. Jeongguk couldn’t give any less of a shit. 

“Gguk-ah…” Seokjin is using that tone of voice he always does when Jeongguk gets riled up like this, the one that means he’s treating him like a pup. Sometimes he likes it. Today is not one of those days. “We need Yoongi with us at the main house…”

Wrong thing to say. 

Jeongguk scoffs, “So he gets to see her before me? Are you joking?” 

His bonds pang– the internal urge of half of him wanting to soothe the others displeasure combating with his temperament still burning from the night before. The rest are lucky Hoseok managed to calm him down before he took off on his own last night. 

“No.” There could be something more to it, something they’re not telling him. They never tell him things. Or maybe they do– either way, it doesn’t matter. He’s pissed right now. All he can feel is that. “We just…” 

“They don’t want you to see what the others did and freak out.” Jeongguk has never been more thankful for Hoseok’s blunt tone– at least someone will tell it to him like it is, even when he is worked up like this. 

“Thats…” He would like to argue against their stance– that he totally would not blow up and pounce seeing what Jimin and Tae had done– but the words die on his tongue. He knows it's more than likely, so… he chooses a different route to argue his case. 

He stands a little taller, “I just want to see. I should get to know how my mates been living.” 

“You can see that after, can’t you?” Jimin grumbles, finally merging himself back into the main conversation from where Taehyung had him dragged away before. 

Oh, of course, it would be Jimin saying that very thing. The one who wants to avoid Jeongguk seeing whatever state they left his soulmate's den in. 

“Jimin, be quiet.” Seokjin sighs, trying once again to be the mediator. Jeongguk normally thinks it’s an incredible skill to have. He respects Seokjin a lot for him stepping up as second in command of the pack, but he’s having trouble retaining any of that sense now as he feels the biting breeze against his cheeks. As he feels the woods trying to speak to him. 

“We need you to take the lead here, okay? Manage these 2 and direct them if she’s at the truck instead of the house.” 

He feels like he’s going to scream. 

See, the issue here is that Gguk doesn’t give a shit about pack dynamics. 

He feels like a broken record due to how often he repeats it, but all he cares about is you. 

He doesn’t give a shit that more people are needed to case a house than a truck. He doesn’t care that Jimin and Yoongi can’t be in a group together out of fear of them fighting. Doesn’t care that he can’t be with Yoongi either due to the fact he will definitely be fighting him. 

Hell, it doesn’t bother him that Hoseok doesn’t see the point in getting you, or that Seokjin is only following along because of Joon’s lead. Sure, he’s frustrated by the way Yoongi’s eyes light up whenever you are discussed, and by the way that Tae shrinks away at the same mention. He didn’t even argue last night when he was excluded from Namjoon, Hoseok, and Seokjin’s meeting last night while they were plotting today out.

He doesn’t care that the groups split makes the most logical sense– that the packs 3 highest in command should all be at the larger site. He doesn’t even care that the rest of them probably don’t even realise that he understands all of it– that he accounts for every minor detail, too.

He doesn’t give a shit about fucking anything other than getting to you and it feels like the others just aren’t listening to how his wolf howls for you. 

He feels like he’s going in circles. 

His head certainly is. 

He should just go. He should just start listening to his instincts just like everyone else does. He should– 

Namjoon’s solid hand comes down on his shoulder, his frame leaning down just slightly to look in Jeongguk’s eyes. “Gguk-ah. I’m counting on you. If you find her, you’ll catch her.” 

Fuck. Jeongguk does care about that. 

Cares about Joon. About the other pure-alphas approval. 

As his heart begins to beat a little faster, he takes a step back while tossing the strap of his gun over his shoulder. His boots crunch against the solid soil as he turns his back to the rest of the pack, making sure his face is hidden before any sort of blush tries to rise to his cheeks. 

Joon always makes fun of him for that.

“Whatever.” He grunts out, trying to keep it a secret how affected by his pack alpha he is. He’s not the pack’s pup anymore. He shouldn’t get so worked up over little things. “Let’s go.”

“If you see anything, radio.” Hoseok reminds, a slight strain in his voice from what Jeongguk can only imagine is another stretch. Another part of the generals routine. “Kill anything you see, infected people or alive ones. Doesn’t matter to me.” 

As if Jeongguk doesn’t know that already. 

He grunts, marching off down the unbeaten path with his two elder packmates in tow. His brain tuning out the words of the other four as his brain already moves onto the next thing. As the woods start to feel more and more familiar the deeper he finds himself going inside.

…He’s going to make sure the promise he made to the you in his dreams stays alive and well.

Yoongi's pace meanders a few behind the rest of the group, the heavy metal of his favourite gun thunking against his back with every step he takes. The smell of the damp forest floor invades his nostrils with every small pant he takes, the morning dew making the floor wet as mud decides to cling to his boots. 

He never thought he would be out in the woods again. 

His head tilts towards the sky as he thinks, lets his mind wander away from the sounds of birds while he has a moment to do so. His body instinctively following the guidance of the rest of his mates without having to put any conscious effort into doing so, something in him knowing they would keep him safe even if he got a little distracted. 

The last time Yoongi stepped foot into the forest… into any woods like these… it had to be at least 10 years ago.

He doesn’t know how you live in them. How you survive it.

He knows the crushing weight of the trees.  

He’s been trying to figure out how since last night, to be honest. Ever since Jimin mapped out roughly where you had been staying, he’s been wondering why you forced yourself out here. How long you’ve been managing.

The woods are so tall, how do you fight against them all on your own? 

Yoongi couldn’t. Still can’t, probably. 

Logically, he has to remind himself, something dense like this is probably safer from intruders– not safe enough, if Jimin and Taehyung were able to find you–  and zombies. There were far less out here than there were constantly battering against the walls of their compound. Hoseok had only managed to spot 2 on their hike so far, both are double-dead now. So comes safety from others in isolation, he guesses. Maybe that’s how you view it. He almost wishes he could, too. 

Still not safe enough. 

Yeah, for once Yoongi has to agree with his inner alpha. You’re not safe enough. Not if two of his pack mates were able to track you down. Not if what they say is true about you having been out here alone for who knows how long. 

As much as he hates the idea of taking that decision away from you, he hates the idea of you dying even more. He hates the idea of not being able to keep you safe from pain, from letting you rot out here.

That’s all forests do. They infest your brain with rot. 

Yoongi can’t stand the idea of stumbling upon you, fungus covering your skin. 

He can give you back other freedoms later. It’s what he’s promised himself. You’ll– okay, you probably won’t like his pack at first. He would be the first person to admit that, regardless of how much he cares for them. But… but eventually you might come around. You might like hi–

Yoongi shakes his head, forcing himself away from the train of thought his alpha keeps forcing him down. 

He’s coming to get you, to protect you as a friend. Someone he considers a friend, even if it was only one night spent together under fictional stars. Even if he did just plan to let it all blur away.

He’s not coming to you as an alpha with a prerogative. He just… he wants you to be okay. Especially after what Jimin and Taehyung did. He just wants to make sure that you're safe. That you’re not spiralling like he would be under the same circumstances. 

Yoongi hates the woods. 

…Yoongi wants Jeongguk to forgive him. 

He probably won’t. 

He should probably stop worrying himself over it. He has more pressing matters to deal with– ones that are only a few meters away, not in an entirely different group, heading to another location. 

The guilty part of him hopes Jeongguk will find you first, but the selfish part of him, the ever present one that seems intertwined with his wolf, hopes that he will get the honour.

It isn’t good for you to be alone. You shouldn’t have to suffer through it.

Yoongi is projecting, he knows it. He also can’t stop it, and honestly, doesn’t want to. He wants to feel connected to you. Maybe he’s being selfish again by allowing himself to do so.

…Well, he is the only one who’s actually met you. He’s the one you felt– feel safe with.

 His fingers twitch, he wants to just hurry up with it all, already. He wants to get you out of here, bring you to the house. Comfort you, if you’d let him.

…Would you let him? 

His heart starts beating a little bit faster. That can’t be good. 

“You’re thinking too much.” Hoseoks’s hushed voice makes its way into his muddled mind, a broad shoulder bumping into his unsteady frame. 

Yoongi’s eyes slowly draw back from the sky, instead finding their place upon Hoseoks’s handsome face instead. Too handsome. It looks like it was carved by one of the greats. It isn’t fair. 

“That’s rich coming from you.” Yoongi deadpans like he definitely wasn’t just admiring the pack's chief of combat. 

He totally wasn’t. “You never think when Namjoons’ ‘round.”

God, they’ve been together how many years and Yoongi still pretends to be coy. He knows Hoseok sees through it, though, so there’s really no harm. Not like when the Jeongguk first joined the pack and became acquainted with Yoongi’s sharp, unrelenting tongue. Yoongi will never forget the complete embarrassment of having to explain what Jimin dubbed his ‘cuteness aggression.’ 

Bleh.

It was the most embarrassing day of his life. 

Thankfully, Hoseok likes it when Yoongi gets mean. Says it ‘gets him going’. 

Hmph. 

“Yeah, well it’s their job. I’m not on the clock right now.” Hoseok smiles, both of his arms raising up to hold the back of his head up. “Let Seokjin deal with it. Looks like he has a stick up his ass, anyway.”

Yeah, Yoongi guesses that’s true. Hoseok isn’t leading the pack’s recruits on any kind of clearing mission, nor is he leading anyone into war. Still, he doesn’t know how he is just so relaxed about everything when Yoongi feels like he’s dying inside. 

Still, he doesn’t think he agrees with the idea of it being anyone else's job, especially not Seokjins’.

Yoongi hazards at the body next to the pack alphas. He still doesn’t understand why Seokjin acts like a saint. Their rooms are next to each other, he’s heard the elder’s rants. Yoongi’s one of the few other than the pack alpha that knows his position. 

Huh, maybe Seokjin never realised how thin the walls are. 

“Bullshit. You’re a control freak.” Yoongi grunts, “If Namjoon didn’t force you out of taking the lead, you’d be up there instead.” 

Hoseok simply hums, acknowledging Yoongi. Probably agreeing that it's true in his head.

“Jin!” Hoseok calls up ahead, pulling Seokjin back towards the tail end rather than the front. Yoongi watches as he turns, as he lets his footsteps slow to allow for Yoongi and Hoseok to catch up. 

Yoongi feels Hoseok’s hands on his shoulders, forcing him up in front, a big heart-shaped smile on his lips, “This one’s thinking too much. Calm him down.”  

“Yah. Stop it.” Yoongi tries to shrug off the younger, but fails miserably. Hoseok’s grip is tight, his fists massaging the flesh, “That’s not his job.”

The conversation feels easy. Too easy, for the current conditions. Zfor the way Yoongi is feeling. He doesn’t fully feel like he deserves their care.

“Aish! What are you talking about! It’s what I was recruited for!” Seokjin huffs, a fake glare directed at Namjoon’s back steady across his features.  

“Receuited?” Yoongi almost wants to laugh, “Not the story I heard.” 

As much as Yoongi likes to feign disinterest, he certainly does not miss the colouring of red rising to Seokjin’s ears. The corners of his hips curl, already completely aware the elder is going to go on one of his tirades. 

Cute. Seokjin is cute. 

“Yah!” The elders whisper raises a hair, his lips pouting out a bit more as his words increase in pace. “That brat wouldn’t leave me alone— what did you expect me to do?! He wasn’t even in my department—“

Yoongi shakes his head, eyes staring at the ground. Yoongi doesn’t even try to deny the expression is out of fondness. “You trying to let the whole forest know we’re here?”

“I—“ Seokjin pauses, eyes going wide as he realises just how loud he was getting. His ears get just a bit darker, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, the eldest in the pack just clears his throat, standing a bit straighter. “What were we discussing?” 

The corner of Yoongi’s mouth quirks, “How Namjoon pursued you for years before you gave into him.”

“Other than that.” 

He shrugs, not really remembering. He wasn’t paying much attention, more so looking for a distraction. 

“Ah,” The weight of Seokjin’s arm is dropped over Yoongi’s shoulder, his head shaking along with the addition. “That’s right. You were thinking too hard. Is it being out here?” There's a slight pause before Seokjin continues, “You don’t need to think about back then anymore.” 

He wishes it was that easy. 

Hoseok’s echo of the past blinks fresh in his mind— ‘Live in the moment with me.’ That’s what Hoseok had said back then. 

Seokjin’s smile feels warm when it’s directed just at Yoongi, “Just let hyung take care of it, okay? We’ll be home soon.” 

Now he is sure his heart is moving at a faster pace than before. 

Hyung.

Yoongi never used those sort of honorifics with Seokjin— it just wasn’t in the nature of their relationship. The elder never outwardly seemed to care, anyway, other than in half-assed jokes. It’s only in times like these that it felt like it mattered. 

Suddenly, Seokjin’s face loses all sense of peace, a cold mask of stone falling over it at the exact same time his body freezes in place, the hike coming to a close. Namjoon’s hand in the air being the direct cause. 

Well, it was nice while it lasted. It is time for action now. 

Namjoon's fingertips curl towards his palm in a silent instruction to lower their frames closer to the ground. The slow, controlled approach to the house already having been planned out since the night before.

Namjoon sends a glance towards the pack’s general, signalling the change of power between them, Hoseok taking over direction.

Yoongi follows it silently without question, waiting for Hoseok’s motion to continue the pursuit forward. He’s always been in awe of the way Hoseok is able to direct everything, to make the motions of a unit seem fluid and conjoined rather than just heaping bodies following orders.

It only takes a glance from Hoseok before Namjoon is moving– the pack alpha gliding through the underbrush as he makes his way around the back of the cabin where he is meant to be stationed in case you try to make a quick exit from the rear. 

Yoongi’s job is a lot more simple than the rest of theirs, he is only meant to be a lookout. Honestly, he’s thankful for it. He’s not sure he could manage much more upon seeing you again. Upon seeing the new conditions of your home.

A few seconds pass, a soft cooing whistle from Hoseok along with the tilt of his head telling Yoongi it’s his turn to move. He does as ordered, moving up from his squat, though certainly not returning to full height as he takes a light jog through the underbrush. Only settling himself down when he finds the angle he was looking for. 

Checking left, checking right– yeah, here will do just fine. He can see your front door, as well as both sides of your house. He’ll be able to spot you if you try to make it through a window. With fewer guys, it might be a little more difficult to catch you, but Yoongi knows Hoseok enjoys the chase.

… He hopes it doesn’t come down to that, but if he does, he’ll try his best to comfort you even if he isn’t the best at it. 

Carefully, Yoongi lowers himself down to the forest floor, pulling the gun off his shoulder right along with the action. He clicks the legs of it down, lowering himself to his stomach to check the view. 

Just as he suspected, it’s perfect. He can see everything. Will definitely be able to spot you if you try to move. 

Fucking hell. Those goddamn assholes broke most of your windows– he can only assume they weren’t like that before. 

It isn’t long before Hoseok and Seokjin come into view, their bodies doing similar low jogs to the ones Yoongi just performed himself. Though their angle was towards the door– if you were here, they were going to get to you first.

Yoongi shakes his head, forcing the jealousy out of his gut. It’s fucking stupid. There isn’t any guarantee you’re still here, anyway. Yoongi knows he would have cleared out first thing if it was hi–

His  breath stops in his throat, his head raising from his site. Pupils darting around the scene in front of him. 

Fuck. Fuck. No, no no. Why is this happening now? Why?

Everything should be fine. Everything is going smoothly. Namjoon should be positioned around the rear of the building by now, Hoseok and Seokjin are counting down in front of your door, ready to make their move. Yoongi is keeping an eye out as he lays against the forest as Hoseok’s hand raises, starting from 5. There are no zombies around, nor other people that Yoongi can smell.

So why why why why why is this happening right now?

Why is something wrong?

That same sensation that settled over him yesterday has returned at a ten-fold. 

Yoongi feels an overwhelming sense of dread in his gut. Worse than he’s felt in a decade. 

Panic starts to take over before he’s able to calm it down, his body rising to a stand. Something shakes against his thigh, but he can’t comprehend it. Not when he knows something is about to go wrong, but he doesn’t know what yet.

The universe had to curse him with the ability to know, but not with the ability to do anything about it before it’s too late.

His legs are moving before his mind can catch up, his body rushing towards the door to stop them. He can’t breathe, he can’t think. Words are willing themselves to leave him. They have to regroup, they would understand. They trust him. They trust his judgment. 

Just a little bit further. A little bit further.

He should have said something. 

The last of Hoseok’s fingers fall, Seokjin’s shoulder slams into the door, breaking it from its hinges. He thinks another figure swoops in, but he isn't really sure. 

The entire world has just become red. 

Yoongi, he can’t move. He can’t do anything. The world stops rotating on its axis, everything moves to a standstill right along with Yoongi’s form. He’s positive things are happening around him, but he can’t process a single one. He can’t.

One second, everything is red. The next, it’s white.

He can’t hear anything, he can only feel red hot pain blossoming in his gut as something hits him. As he is tossed backwards several feet. 

The trees quake due to the force.

Boom.

It doesn’t take Jeongguk long to get to the truck– or maybe it does. He doesn’t remember half of the journey. 

He remembers splitting off from the pack, Jimin and Taehyung trailing behind him. He remembers hearing something reminiscent to a giggle beyond that was similar to the ones in his dreams. Remembers deciding that they meant he was on the right track to find you, that his alpha would never steer him wrong.

He didn’t talk at all the entire journey there, staying focused on the prize. There isn’t time for  any distractions. He needs to see if you’re at the truck, then rush over to the cabin in case you’re there instead. He needs to hold you, tell you that you’re safe now, and bring you home.

Simple enough. There isn’t really much to do but actually do it. He can stop fantasizing about you once you’re actually in his arms. Maybe then the wolf inside of him will finally settle.

He just wants to breathe you in. For you to build a nest in his room.

He promises he won’t go in it! Not until you give him permission to. But just knowing you feel safe enough around him, safe enough around his scent, shit he wants it more than anything else. 

He even has the perfect corner picked out for you already, he’s cleared out space in his closet, too, if you’d rather go there. Sure, he did that forever ago when he still remembered your face, but he’s been keeping it open ever since. He’ll keep it open forever waiting for–

A large hand tugs at the back of his shirt, halting him in his advance forward. The heat of it is almost blinding, but Jeongguk doesn’t let himself get distracted. Of course not, he’s an alpha on a mission.

A haphazard glance over his shoulder is the only thing he offers, finding Taehyung standing there, Jimin still quite a ways away, keeping himself separated. Hm. He’s been like that since yesterday, keeping himself a bit more closed off. 

Good. He should feel bad, even if it was a mistake. Even if Jimin didn’t know you were his.  

Another tug and Jeongguk is brought back to the moment again, a grunt signalling from his throat as a question meant to ask Taehyung what he wants. 

Taehyung’s tongue comes out to lick at his bottom lip lazily, his eyes moving from their stare on Jeongguk to farther ahead on the path. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Taehyung wants him to look, too.

His head turns back to the main trail, vision narrowing. 

Fuck. He didn’t notice that.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Jeongguk’s heart swells, hope filling him to the very brim. Butterflies already dancing in his gut as his eyes go wide, as he feels a gentle heat curve into his cheeks. 

Footprints. There are footprints on the same path they’re following now. 

If Taehyung’s insistence is anything to go by, shit, it means your scent still dots the trees, too. Means that recently you followed the same path Jeongguk trails now. That you might just be living in the very truck Jeongguk is called towards now. 

You– are you really waiting at the truck for him? 

God, his entire being in inflating. His alpha is howling at him to go get you– that something as perfect as you shouldn’t be living out here. You shouldn’t be subjected to living in your truck because of what his idiot mates did. 

Jeongguk’s legs are moving faster than before– he doesn’t really know when his pace picked up, but he knows the others are close to follow. 3 pairs of heavy thuds are marking up the forest floor, along with the sound of clanging guns against shoulders. 

Within a few minutes he’s there. He’s standing in front of something you call your own. 

It takes his breath away. Of course his omega would drive something cute like this– it makes perfect sense for you. Even if he doesn’t know you well yet, he’s sure of it. Oh, or wait… maybe you only use this one cause it’s convenient? Maybe another vehicle style suits you better? He’ll get you a hundred cars, if you want. That way you can know what all of them feel like. It’ll feel so good to provide for you. 

He moves in without really thinking, stalking towards the car, his noise unable to stop itself from the constant sniffing, attempting to weed out your scent from the rest of the woods. It’s difficult for him to, if he’s being honest. He always gets overwhelmed when so many different odours surround him, but he tries for you anyways. 

He thinks he gets some of it, something that smells like beta– he knows better, he knows that even if you smell wrong, you’re still an omega– with hints of eucalyptus. Like some kind of herb used for healing, if he were to guess. 

He frowns. 

Now, standing only a few feet away from your truck, away from the source, he can tell it’s at least a day old. There isn’t anything that smells more fresh, there’s no sign of life within the cabin even with how forgetful he was at the volume of his approach.

It isn’t his fault though! He knows he was supposed to be quiet just in case but you distracted him. It doesn’t look like it matters anyway, you’re clearly nowhere to be found. 

Jeongguk’s shoulders drop– all that hope that had been welling up drifts out. A laboured sigh from Jimin behind him, along with a kick to something– when Jeongguk turns his head, he identifies it as a fishing net with brush interlaced with the rope– signals that the others are sure of the same thing. 

“She’s not here.” Even though Jeongguk is on better terms with Jimin than Yoongi, he still would rather not hear him talk right now. It’s not really any fault of his own, but stating the obvious when it’s clear Jeongguk is already irritated? When he can clearly see that you’re not here? It just makes Jeongguk’s teeth clench together a little tighter.

“I can see that.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, one hand closing around the passenger cabin handle. The muscle in his arm straining in preparation for it to resist the movement, for the door to jerk back. 

It doesn’t. It’s unlocked. 

Jeongguk grunts as he stumbles just slightly, not enough to cause worry or for him to actually fall, but enough for his eyes to go wide. One hand reaching to steady himself on the top of the interior doorframe. His shoulders hunching just slightly while a small, growled ‘fuck’ slips from the back of his throat. 

Thank god you aren’t here. That would’ve looked totally uncool.

He grunts, forcing himself to stand straight and only give half checks to his right and left to re-confirm your absence. Even if he wants to see you, he doesn’t want to look so lame. “We’re still checking. Maybe she left something to say where she’s going.”

“Or maybe she’s at her house.” Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow, the back of his throat itching with a warning growl that wants to be let through. Didn’t Jimin hear Joon? Jeongguk is in charge, he shouldn’t be–

Jeongguk hears a sniffing sound right next to his ear, distracting him. It’s Taehyung taking the chance to scent the inside of the cabin, he guesses. Doesn’t really know what the other is looking for though. All he can smell is a slightly distressed undercurrent to your beta– it’s okay, he knows what you actually are, even if your scent is trying to lie to him– scent, most significantly clinging to the bag lying right across the passenger seat in a heap.

His frown deepens. Probably those two that made you smell like that. Made you scared with no one around to comfort you. There is a 0% chance Jeongguk is going to feel less bitter about it any time soon.

In the back of his head, Jeongguk realises the sniffing has stopped 

He doesn’t offer Jimin any kind of response, instead focusing on the bag. Maybe you had left a map in there? Some supplies? Maybe just anything that would make him feel closer to you?

He should take it, right? That way, when you come home, you won’t be missing whatever's inside. 

His lips purse just slightly, head nodding in agreement as his hand reaches out to grab it. 

Well, he was grabbing it. Now, he’s on the forest floor, his head banging against the surface. Taehyung on top of him, his head pressed into Jeongguk’s throat, not even thinking about letting him up. 

The growls begin to leave Jeongguk instantly, a second nature swelling up to the top. 

“What the fuck are you doing? Get off of me!” He still won’t let up. He’s keeping Jeongguk pinned with everything he has. Jeongguk can’t see Jimin either. Can only feel the pounding in his head and shoulders from being throttled to the ground. 

Is this a fucking coup or something? Were they just waiting to get Jeongguk alone so he wouldn’t be there to protect you anymore? 

Jeongguk’s growls increase in volume, his limbs thrashing to try and get out from underneath Taehyung. He can’t believe this. He can’t believe they would fucking try something like this.

“Bomb.” Taehyung’s panicked baritone sends a lightning bolt through Jeongguk’s spine. He’s not fighting anymore. “Bomb inside. Bomb in bag. Don’t touch. Don’t touch! Can smell it! Intentional! Bomb! Don’t touch! Don’t!”

There’s…? You left a…? 

Jeongguk looks back towards the car, his entire face morphing into that of complete disbelief.  

You were trying to protect yourself… did you…? They said they didn’t see your car yesterday.. The covering was pulled off to the side, making the truck noticeable. Your footprints were in a clear line in the mud when you could just have easily veered off the beaten path, covered up your trail.

This was on purpose. You were trying to protect yourself if Jimin and Taehyung came– 

What would have happened if Taehyung wasn’t there?

Jeongguk’s blood runs cold. 

Joon doesn’t have a Taehyung at the house. 

His mates can’t smell if the same trap has been laid just beyond the door.

Jeongguk shoves Taehyung off of him, adrenaline pumping through his veins. A newfound strength adorning his features as he manages to rattle the big puppy off. His frame rolling onto its stomach, reaching for the radio in his belt loop as he looks towards the direction of your cottage, his pupils shaky. 

“Joon– Joon! There was a bomb in the truck! Abort the pursuit! Abort it!” His voice is yelling, crackling as it bounces through the radio. 

Time feels like it’s extending itself, 30 seconds morphing into half an hour as he waits for a response. 

There is none.

Shit. Shit. Shit! Shit! SHIT! 

Jeongguk bolts upright, forgetting about the car, leaving it in the past while his mates are in danger in the present. “Fuck! Go! We have to go now!” 

His pheromones, the same ones Joon used last night are unintentionally leaking from his pores, his body already beginning to rush through the tense trees. His head is spinning– he doesn’t know if the others followed. Only that he has to get to the rest of his mates before, before–

The sound rattles the trees, a deep ball of red rising above them. 

Jeongguk freezes, his mind blank as he stares towards the distance in awe. 

If it wasn’t his mates you were targeting, he would think you’re incredible. But right now, you’re not a thought in his mind. He’ll be upset with himself later over that fact. The fact of the matter, he knows where his bonds lie. He knows how much they’re in pain.  

You didn’t know it was them. You don’t know it’s your soulmates. You’re just so scared, just so… everything hurts. His body is on fire. 4 spots across his form are radiating a pain he’s never felt before. 

It hurts so bad. 

So bad. 

He wants to crumple to the floor. He wants to sob. He doesn’t know what to do. 

“Get a fucking hold of yourself!!” Oh, Jimin’s screaming at him. He wonders when that started. When the shorter of the two grabbed his shoulders and began shaking him, when the look in his eyes became so deadly that they lost all of their spark.

The slap to his face stings, but he’s thankful for it. It finally brings him back to the moment, finally forces him to do what he needs to do. 

“Stupid purebred! Fucking move! You’re useless to them if you can’t even do that!” Jimin’s shouting should sting, but it doesn’t in the slightest. He knows the words are true. 

Jeongguk is running again, faster than he thinks he’s run in his entire life. He doesn’t really remember the rest of the interaction with Jimin, his memories feel jumbled. He knows at one point Jimin began dragging him towards the house, then he remembers overtaking Taehyung on his own while running. 

The sight he sees when he finally reaches the cabin is one he’ll never forget. 

He’s so lucky he’s never had the experience of his mates being in abject danger before. He doesn’t know if he could ever take feeling like this again.

The house, what's left of it, is up in flames. Wood panels have been blown off the side, half of the covered porch has caved in upon itself. 

His chest heaves as he finally spots his pack. His soulmates. The ones he loves the most in the world. Namjoon’s form is on top of Seokjin and Hoseok’s bodies, looking like he pushed them out of the way just in time. Wood scattered debris lays around them still burning bright, though none directly on top.

A whizz of air passes by Jeongguk, Jimin’s shorter form running past him in the direction of Yoongi.

Yoongi. 

Jimin is hauling a piece of burning wood off Yoongi’s stomach, his hands shaking his shoulders. His voice is yelling, but Jeongguk can’t really hear it. At some point he began to move, too. His body acting for him while his mind remains scattered. 

His arms haul Namjoon off of the others, it’s clear all of them are injured– they’ll need to get medical attention when they get home. Seokjin, as much as he wants to, likely won’t be in the state to provide it. Jeongguk will yell at him if he tries.

Taehyung frame finally joins Joengguk too, following his lead in grabbing Seokjin instead, propping his body up rather than continuing to let him lay against the forest floor. From Jeongguk’s extremely limited medical knowledge, he knows his knee looks bad. But so does Hoseok’s shoulder. And god, Jeongguk has never been more thankful for the fire-resistant lining of the gear they wore today. He can’t imagine what the state of Namjoon’s back would be without it. 

“Hyung! Hyung!” Jeongguk hears his voice, but he doesn’t remember willing it to sound. He finds himself in the same place as Jimin, his hands shaking the pack alpha's shoulders, trying to wake him from his passed out state.

Fuck. If only he was faster getting to the truck, if only Taehyung was able to tell him sooner none of this would have happened! He would have been able to tell them and, and, and– 

“”M fine.” Jeongguk feels air enter him for the first time at the sound of Joon’s voice, even if it does sound a little weak. When Joon wheezes, his heart still pangs, “‘M fine. No one died. Take care of the others, they need it more.” 

Jeongguk has never wanted to sob more in his life from relief. 

The relief is short-lived when his eyes shift towards Seokjin being coddled by Taehyung.

Hoseok has propped himself up, too. He’s looking off in the distance. 

He’s smiling. 

You know, when Hoseok said he wasn’t interested in having an omega, you didn’t have to go and be such a fucking brat about it. 

Yeah, yeah. Sure. Whatever. He was going to let his packmates have their new little toy until they got bored of it– he didn’t mind. Pretty pussy is pretty pussy, and alphas have their urges. Hoseok has never minded sharing a beta between a few of them for a night in the past, though that stopped when Jimin joined and started killing them. 

Hoseok still didn’t really care. 

He didn’t have any loyalties to them. Didn’t wanna bite them. They were just for fun.

If the youngest wanted a new pet, he wouldn’t deny him. He bets he would look cute staring at you like you were the world. Teetering after you while Hoseok had his.. Fun. 

He wouldn’t deny himself the pleasure of playing with you, too. Again, pretty pussy. 

And sure, Hoseok never really cared much for the second gender that seems so– his upper lip wants to curl– mystifying, almost like mythical creatures with their decline. He remembers even back in school when he was learning about them, being bored out of his mind. 

Everything about them just seemed so boring.

Helpless. 

Culling. 

Too much work for what? Something that just likes to sit around the house all day pretty? God, sounds like his fucking nightmare.

Hoseok has always thrived on the exciting. On whatever could get his blood pumping the fastest. 

It’s what Namjoon promised him. The alpha never did disappoint. 

Months ago, when Namjoon first came to him about the idea of getting an omega, Hoseok thought that it might be the first time he would. He never expected a desire so… simple, baseline… traditional, from the pack alpha. He agreed, sure, but he didn’t expect anything from it. Thought that the alpha might finally be becoming boring. 

He should be admonishing his past self for ever doubting him, but his present self feels high as a kite. 

This is certainly a motherfucking treat.

Even with the pain radiating from his shoulder socket– it’s definitely popped out– he doesn’t deny it. His tongue, despite its pain from biting through the meaty flesh during the blast, runs over his teeth. Copper tang in every breath he breathes. 

Awwwww, and you planned it all yourself, huh? Laid out a little bomb to catch the wolves in a trap? What an adorable little doe, thinking you could be big. 

He raises himself up on his forearms, flinching a little at the weight put onto his shoulder. He should be screaming from it now, right? That’s what anyone else would do. His cock is hard.

“Hyung! Hyung!” Shit. He really can’t hear now. Most of it just rings. Call it love the way he was still able to hear Jeongguk through it. Whatever. It’ll come back soon. He’s got other things to focus on. 

His eyes continue to scan the tree line, looking for something. He’s not sure what. 

He’ll find out soon. 

Ha, you really did a number on all of them, huh? Did alllllllll of this just for them? Wow, you must really care. You must really want Hoseok to think you’re worth it, huh? That you’re better than all those other little omegas out there?

You want him? That's the message you were trying to send, huh? That you want a chase? 

You’re fucking lucky Hoseok loves them. You want him to love you, too? Are you ready for something like that? You really think so?

His lips crack open, a splash of red coating the inside edge. Another trail of blood running down his cheek from where he nosedived into the dirt. 

You wanted his attention? That’s why you pulled this bratty little stunt? Well now you have it. 

He sees a glint of light in the distance, way beyond the trees. Light reflecting off of glass. Binoculars, huh? Cute. 

His smile grows, blood on his teeth. The taste of copper still coming through on his punctured tongue. His canines have never been more excited to bite. 

Found you, baby. 

Let’s play red riding hood. 

“Boom.” 

Your voice is soft, cusping just on the edge of the wind. Certainly nowhere near as loud as the sound that just permeated the forest, but felt as though it was even greater than it. A beautiful, radiating fire lighting the trees in the distance, a new glow.

On your face rests a satisfied, self serving smile. 

You, and your predictions, had been right. They came back. 

Now, there was no way you could be certain it was the same alphas that came to destroy you yesterday, of course not. It would be silly to completely presume but… it was nice to think it was, anyway. Had your legs feeling lighter as they rest against the wooden edge of the fire escape, your body slumped against the high-back stool that you just so happened to find in the fire tower. 

Ha. Fire tower. Ironic. 

Either way, you knew they would be back, and now they knew the consequences of doing such a thing, even if it is a pity the second bomb hadn’t gone off alongside the first.

The corner of your lips quirk a little higher, hand finally reaching to grab the binoculars from their place hanging against the chair. The cool metal raising to your eyes, allowing you to see even more of the beauty you had just created. 

Mmm, the view isn’t too much better– you suppose you did walk pretty far– but still. The act of seeing everything is divine. Your house, the place you had crafted for years, may now be in shambles, but so are the alphas. Poor things. 

Well, you’ll build your life back better, anyway. Every new start has become more and more easy. Lessons have taught you the proper steps, especially the steps to properly disappear. That everyone should have the tools and the knowledge to make an out if need be. 

Your bottom lip perks out in a bit of a mocking pout, head tilting to the side as the fire begins to grow. It won’t make it far, you know that. The conditions aren’t great for it to actually spiral, but it feels prophetic almost. It feels perfect.

Leave no witnesses.

Mhm, and after they saw your nest, you knew you had to. Fixed up the house to make it look like you were planning on trying to stay, left your car uncovered as a second honeypot. Disabled your trip wires to make it seem like you didn’t know what you were doing. Packed all the suppressants you could. Made sure to leave a little trail to each. 

Agitated clucking sounds from your left, drawing you out of your thoughts. The binoculars leaving your eyes as your head twists down towards her, instead. 

Ah. Of course, there was Cheryl, too. 

To be honest, you tried to leave her. To let her go back to the woods and live with the wild flock but… she wouldn’t stop following you.

Pack has to stick together, you suppose.

“Shhhh, shhh shh…” Your fingers slowly stroke down Cheryl's back, her plumage puffed up from the noise that rang throughout the forest. “You gotta be quiet. They could be watching us back.” 

You stand from your spot, moving back towards the interior of the little fire tower. One hand scooping up Cheryl from her tummy, the other slinging your pack over your shoulder. A continued soft hushing leaving as you walk. 

You have no plans of unpacking, you’d be leaving this location soon enough. 

A small buzzing sensation runs through your entire being, the aftereffects of your successful plan still migrating through every one of your nerves, lighting each up like little stars in little galaxies. 

Your lips curl once again, little sharpened canines hanging from below your upper lip, the corner of your smile tweaking upwards. “Well, if they’re still alive, that is.”

chapter 4 <- index -> chapter 6

⌬ : notes:

"oh, these weren't homemade. they were made in a factory. a bomb factory."

🧍‍♀️

ha..haha.. right guys?

*a tomato is thrown at me*

DAMN! Fine! Lemme just pack my shit and--- lmaooooo I'm joking!! Seriously though, I am desperate to hear what you guys think about this chapter. What I have been teasing for awhile has finally kicked off!! Like i said, reader still had a few things up her sleeve. She's crafty, huh? Either way, it isn't too much longer before she meets the guys!! it should be happening next chapter, isn't that exciting? It is to me!!

I am desperate to hear all of your thoughts on this chapter-- it really is my favourite one that I've written so far. Especially now that we have 6/8 povs unlocked for the main cast... mwahahah, hoseok is certainly a treat, isn't he? I have full confidence you will either hate him, or think he is entirely too hot (i am of the later group lmao, I know what I am) (a freak, if that wasn't clear LMAO)

Jeongguk too, with how desperate he is to have you :'< poor guy. Plus a look into the way he joined thep pack ?! Either way!! As always, please let me know any and all of your thoughts, I absolutely love hearing them!! Everything coming together, and the objects set in motion are rolling super fast now, even if it doesn't totally seem like it yet.

Ahhh, anyway, this is entirely too long! As always, thank you for reading and falling into the story of summer rain just like I have!!! We have officially hit 100 pages in my google doc! See you guys when the next chapter finishes out!! MWAH!!!

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.”

It was three months ago when Minseok had called you, his voice soft and urgent over the speaker. “You’re the only one he’s ever liked,” he said, subtly implying some unknown truth you hadn’t caught onto yet. “Please, I can’t take him to the States (y/n).” You were hesitant of course, but Minseok would never put you in a position that could cause harm — he trusted Taehyung with you and that was enough for you to sign the adoption papers later that night. 

You assumed it would be awkward at first, getting used to having a large farm hybrid in your home, but It wasn’t, at least not to the degree you thought. Taehyung had made his desires clear early on. “I don’t sleep away from my flock,” is what he had said when you showed him the guest room on the first night. 

At first, you had looked at him confused, not understanding what he meant; but then it hit you — you’re his flock now, his sheep. Your eyes widened in realization, a small ‘oh’ when it clicked coming from you. “Okay,” you said, hesitantly showing him your room instead. “We can just share the bed,” you said mindlessly, then followed it up quickly with “if you don’t mind!” as minor embarrassment set in. Taehyung didn’t seem to mind though, a grunt of satisfaction sounding from his chest. 

Eventually, you build a routine together. Taehyung knows you like the back of his hand, always watching your expressions and body language. “You’re staring again,” you tell the hybrid, eyes glued to the article on your phone. You don’t even have to look up to know, his gaze is something you could feel a mile away while blind folded. After a few minutes of silence, you feel forced to look at him — his staring problem seems worse than usual today. “Is something wrong, Tae?” you ask, changing gears as you become concerned.

His pupils are blown wide, hiding most of his usual amber color with black. “Your scent,” is all he mumbles as he stands up and begins to stalk towards you. He clears the distance from his spot to yours in four steps and kneels down in front of you, one of his large hands goes to rest on your bare thigh and the other wraps around your ankle, gently pushing your legs apart. His eyes watch your face intently, checking for any signs of resistance and rumbling when there are none. “Good girl,” he mumbles, voice low like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. 

Your phone chimes besides you, tearing your attention away for a moment to check — it’s your cycle tracker reminding you that you are nearing your ovulation. ‘Oh shit,’ you think, tensing as you finally understand the sudden change in his behavior. “I’m sorry Tae,” you tell him, hand reaching into his hair to pet his ears. “I should go on birth control, I know how hard this is on you.” But his reaction is not what you expect in the slightest. 

“No,” he growls, dragging his sharp canines across the exposed skin of your thigh. It’s not enough to break skin, but it sends shivers throughout your body. His grip tightens, spreading your legs another quarter inch. “I won’t allow it.” he adds, attaching his lips to the skin to trail wet kisses to the hem of your shorts. When he reaches the jean fabric he pauses, eyes once again scanning your features as he slides his fingertips underneath the material. You’re breathing shallow, eyes glazed and unreadable until you shift your hips towards him. The movement is so small that you don’t even realize you’ve done it, but he does. He pulls away with a smirk, stretching innocently when he stands as if he hadn’t just crossed several unspoken boundaries. “I’m hungry, we should order takeout,” he says without a second thought, walking towards your phone on the counter. 

Your brows furrow in confusion as you watch him walk away. “Takeout?” you whisper, mainly to yourself but he hums a yes in response regardless. Not even thirty seconds ago he was looking at you like you were something he wanted to devour and now he wants takeout? You shake the thought from your head — must’ve been a fluke. “Okay,” you sigh. “Can we get indian? Butter chicken and naan sounds so good right now.” 

Taehyung agrees and places the order, getting himself lamb biryani. “Aren’t you supposed to protect lambs, not eat them?” you joke, walking to the kitchen for a glass of water. 

He huffs a laugh, placing an arm on either side of you to cage you against the counter. His chest is firm on your back, pushing until your hips hit the cool marble. His right hand moves to hold your waist, his teeth finding your neck to plant a playful nip. “I want to devour most things I protect,” he says, voice rough as he follows up with a gentle kiss on the blooming red mark. 

“Why is that?” you tease, voice airy as you tilt your head back to meet his eyes. The tension is palpable, you both know the answer but neither of you are willing to say it out loud yet. His left hand moves from the counter to around your neck; his hold is gentle, but firm. His fingers splay to control your jaw, tipping your head even further. “Tae..” you whine, the sound unintentional but provoking. He stiffens behind you, face coming so close to your own that you swear you’re exchanging oxygen with him. 

A knock on the door tears him away from you with an agitated growl — It’s the food. The poor delivery boy looks stressed when Taehyung opens the door rougher than he should have, not wasting a second between grabbing the food from his hands and shutting the door. “Time to eat,” he grumbles, setting the bag down on the dining room table and moving to grab two plates from the kitchen. He makes your plate per usual, adding a little more than you typically eat with a look in his eye that says not to argue — you don’t. 

The food smells delicious, wafting through and filling your small apartment with spices and flavor, but your body is still buzzing from the brush of his teeth on your neck, the weight of his hand against your waist and way he had growled when the moment was interrupted; ‘god, how far would he have went?’ you wonder. You try to shake the thought away and pretend you’re normal, forcing a smile, but you can’t help but to think back on his behavior the entire day so far.

Taehyung sets the plates down carefully, adjusting yours until it is perfect in front of you. His movements are deceptively casual and it has you doubting yourself again. “You like it?” he asks, low and rough, like his voice is still dragging itself back from the growl at the door. You’ve each only had one bite so far, but the silence was too heavy to not be broken. 

You nod, chewing too quickly before answering. “It’s perfect. Better than cooking.”

He hums, but the sound isn’t really agreement—it’s indulgent, like he’s allowing you to sit here and eat in peace while he’s quietly dismantling every wall you’ve got left. His dark ears flick once, catching some sound outside, then settle again. His attention doesn’t waver from you. Every time you glance up, he’s watching you.

You take a sip of water, but it doesn’t help the dryness in your throat. His lamb biryani smells incredible, and you glance toward it before you can stop yourself. One little glance — that’s all it takes for Taehyung to notice. “You want some?” he asks, voice genuine as he reaches into his dish, long fingers scooping up a bite of lamb and rice with practiced ease. He doesn’t use his fork, doesn’t even hesitate. He just lifts his hand across the table, offering it to you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You freeze, your lips parting but no words coming out. The weight of his gaze pins you in place, amber eyes steady, unreadable. Any other time, you would have done it without second thought, but now you’re shy.

His head tilts slightly, those floppy ears brushing forward with the movement. He can see the hesitancy, can tell that you want it but don’t know how to take it. “Eat,” he says, and it’s not a command, but close enough that it vibrates against your nerves. You stare at his hand, at the bite of food you want resting in between his fingers, and your stomach twists with something you don’t want to name. Slowly, you lean forward, parting your lips for him to feed you. “Good girl,” he praises. 

Your tongue brushes his fingertips, the barest flick of contact — an accident, maybe. Maybe not. Either way, his pupils blow wide, swallowing that thin ring of amber, but his expression doesn’t change. He continues to watch you chew, eyes glued to the way your throat works as you swallow. Taehyung would never admit it, but he’s imagining you swallowing something completely different. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs again, quieter this time, almost to himself.

You shift in your chair, heart racing as you try to focus on your own plate. But every bite you take feels mechanical, tasteless compared to the warmth still lingering on your tongue. His words shouldn’t affect you like this, but they do and it is driving you crazy. 

When you finally risk another glance up, he’s still staring at you. His plate is half-finished, but he doesn’t touch it. Instead, he scoops up another piece with his fingers and holds it out again.

You could refuse, should refuse; but you don’t. 

This time, you wrap your lips around his fingers more deliberately, brushing just a fraction longer with your tongue as you take the food. You suck lightly as you pull away, holding eye contact and in your peripheral vision, you see his jaw flex, and you can hear the sharp inhale he takes. He doesn’t pull away immediately though, letting the contact linger, as if daring you to do more. 

You swallow hard, heat rising up your neck when he continues to stand his ground. “You could use a fork, you know,” you manage, your voice more a breath than a sound. 

“I could,” he agrees, licking his own fingers after; slow and unhurried. His tongue drags across the same skin you had moments before, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep from making a sound. He goes back to eating like he hadn’t just damn near committed a sin. 

It’s unbearable — the way he can make something so small feel like a storm.

You push your food around your plate, pretending you’re still hungry, but your appetite is gone. Not from the food of course, but from the way he looks at you like you’re the meal — like the butter chicken, naan, and biryani are distractions keeping him from what he really wants.

And yet, he doesn’t push further.

Instead, Taehyung leans back in his chair, stretching his legs under the table until his knee brushes against yours. The contact is casual, almost dismissive, but the weight of his gaze makes it anything but, especially when paired with his actions earlier. You throw a playful glare his way, attempting to ease the tension. 

“You eat too little,” he says finally, a small frown etched into his feature as his tone edges with disapproval and amusement. “My hands nearly cover your entire waist,” he adds, lifting his hands in the air as though he’s holding you — the space is roughly your size and there is only a small gap between his fingers. “You’d stand no chance.”

“I’m full,” you argue, whining weakly. Despite the playful face you’ve put on, his words light a fire deep in your belly. 

“You’re not.” His eyes flick down, scanning your plate, then back up to you. “You need more. You’ll take more.” and there is no room for argument in his tone. 

Your chest tightens, a war between indignation and submission pulling you in opposite directions. But before you can form a response, he reaches for another bite of biryani, the motion fluid and inevitable as he leans across the table, hand steady as he waits for you to take it. His dark eyes track your own, silently urging you to make the right choice. 

You hesitate — but only for a breath before you lean forward again. This time, when your tongue brushes against his fingers, you make it clear it’s on purpose and it drives him crazy; you can tell because you feel the subtle tremor that runs through him, the way his breath hitches for just a second.

When you pull back, chewing slowly, you meet his eyes and use your hand to catch his wrist when he tries pulling his hand away. You gently bring it back, swallowing before you dip down again, using your tongue to lead his fingers back into your mouth to suck off the remaining juice and rice crumbs. Taehyung is breathing heavy, eyes half-lidded as he watches you work. He goes to say something, but is cut off by the sight of you pulling away, a thin line of spit connecting your bottom lip to his fingers. The sound that leaves him is somewhere between a choked whine and a growl. 

Neither of you speak for a moment, heavy silence acting as a blanket as you stare at one another. Then, slowly, Taehyung lifts his fingers to his own mouth, breaking the line of spit you created as he licks them off. 

You stare with wide eyes, then sit back with a huff. He outplayed you once again. “Are you done?” you ask softly, reaching out to collect his plate when he nods. You clear what little is left on either plate in the trash and put the bag with the rest in the fridge. The cool air does little to ease the heat coursing through your veins, so you grab an ice cold water bottle and chug it in hopes that it will help — it doesn’t, but at least when you leave the kitchen Taehyung is sitting on the couch scrolling through the movie options. 

His ears twitch and he glances your way, softly patting the spot beside him. “Do you want to watch Grown Ups?” he asks, reading the movie description as he waits for your answer. 

“Yeah,” you answer, smiling when his tail thumps against the couch twice. You make yourself comfortable next to him, laying your head down in his lap and sighing in content when his fingers thread through your hair. 

By the time the movie ends, you’re half asleep and things are back to normal with Taehyung. You both made a few jokes and giggled together at the scenes. 

“Lets get you to bed sweetheart,” Taehyung whispers, carefully picking you up. He takes you to the bathroom first, gently setting you onto the counter and placing himself in between your legs. He takes one of your face wipes, gently rubbing your skin to remove any oils and makeup from the day. He makes your toothbrush for you to use while he brushes through your hair, putting it up the way you like so it isn’t too much of a mess in the morning — your words, not his. “My girl is so pretty,” he praises, calloused hands rubbing your skin care in before taking you to your bedroom. 

“I just want one of your shirts,” you mumble sleepily, lifting your arms for him to remove your shirt. He doesn’t allow his eyes to linger, quickly pulling one of his large shirts over your head before unclipping your bra. “My shorts too, please,” you say, rolling onto your stomach so you can lift your hips. This action causes him to pause, but he shakes the thought as quick as it comes and removes your shorts too. 

He slides into bed beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you tight against his chest. His nose settles in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as his thumb rubs absent-minded circles into the bare skin of your thigh. ‘Just one nip,’ he thinks, pinching the fragile skin on your neck between his teeth. You whine, but you don’t stop him, so he gives another. “You like that, don’t you?” he says, nipping another open spot of skin below your jaw. 

You don’t answer verbally, too embarrassed to admit it so openly, but you give a hesitant nod — unfortunately, that is not enough for Taehyung. 

His fingers grip your jaw, turning you to face him despite the room being pitch black. “Use your voice sweetheart,” he demands, teeth grazing your earlobe. “I want to hear you say it.” and his tone sends shivers down your spine.

“I like it,” you admit shyly, voice barely audible; but he hears it clear as day. 

He hums, not quite satisfied with your answer. “You like what?” he asks, biting down on your shoulder — it’s not enough to break the skin, but your breath still hitches. 

“I like when you bite me,” you say fully, embarrassed that you both listened so easily and said it. 

Taehyung rumbles, leaving a final kiss on your jaw before burying his nose in your neck. “That’s my girl, you listen so well.”

You wake before him. The room is quiet, washed in the golden kind of morning light that makes everything feel warm and pretty. Birds chirp outside your window, a chilly draft making its way through the old seal and for a split second you forget last night's memories. Then his arm shifts; it sits heavy around your waist, pinning you back against his broad chest, and the memory settles. You don’t linger on it though, not this time. 

Taehyung is still asleep, his warm breath steady on your neck with his nose pressed into your hair. His thumb moves in absent-minded circles over your hip bone, lazy and slow, as if his body refuses to stop touching even in sleep. Despite not facing him, you bring your arm back gently so you can slip your fingers into his hair. The rumbling is immediate. 

You think about rolling away, slipping out of bed before he notices to get a start on breakfast, but the second you twitch he makes a low sound in his throat — half groan, half warning — and tightens his hold. “Mm,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep. “Stay. Just five more minutes.” He relaxes his hold after a moment, letting his hand slide down to rest over your stomach. 

You almost laugh, because he says it like you were trying to escape. “I wasn’t going anywhere.” you tell him, craning your neck to look at his sleepy face. He only opens his eyes for a second, giving you an unamused look, before closing them again. “My poor sleepy boy,” you tease, grinning as you ruffle his hair. 

He huffs in fake annoyance, choosing to ignore your last sentence. “Good.” He grumbles, yawning. “You’re warm.”

You roll your eyes, but his words make your chest flutter, and he must feel it because he noses deeper into your hair, taking a deep breath before moving to rest his lips on your shoulder — lips grazing ever so slightly. His morning voice is lower, scratchier, and it does something to you.

“What time is it?” you whisper, glancing at your window as if the position of the sun could tell you — it probably can, but you wouldn’t know. “I’m hungry,” and the grumble of your stomach confirms it. 

“Too early for you to move.” He answers, sliding his hand from your stomach down to the dip of your thigh, then back up again like he’s mapping the curve of you. “I like you right here,” he adds, patting his hand on you lightly in a satisfied manner. Then, as if remembering your hunger, he sighs. “I’ll make breakfast later.”

“You can’t cook.” you tell him, giggling at his misplaced confidence. 

“I can,” he protests weakly, still not opening his eyes. “I’ll prove it. Pancakes. You’ll see.”

You smile, even as his thumb presses against your skin like a warning not to test him. There’s nothing particularly charged in his words, yet the weight of his body against yours, the restraint of his arm locked over your middle, turns the moment heavy. His warning isn’t anything serious either — Taehyung would never hurt you with ill intent, god no. He’d cut off any hand that reached out to hurt you, including his own. 

“You talk big for someone who burned toast last week,” you tease, lifting your eyebrows at the hybrid. You shift around fully, rolling so your neck doesn’t have to stretch uncomfortably to speak to him. His hand settles on your lower back and your forehead meets his chin. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” he mutters, finally cracking an eye open to look down at you, “I’ll keep you here all day and you won’t get breakfast at all.”

It sounds like a joke, but the way his fingers dig into your hip when you shift, the way his gaze lingers on your lips before dragging back up to meet your eyes says otherwise. He blinks slowly, ears twitching at every breath you take. 

You swallow, suddenly aware that you’re holding his stare. It feels like you’re challenging some silent authority inside him, so you look away; retreating from how sharp the moment has become.  

“Five more minutes,” he repeats, voice muffled but firm. Neither of you count the time as it passes and you allow yourself to melt into him. ‘Has he always been this bossy?’ you wonder, not that you’re complaining. 

“Namjoon and Lisa are coming over later,” you tell him, voice soft as to not break the peace. “It’ll just be drinks and games, nothing crazy,” and you find yourself looking up at him, looking for permission and you let out a breath when he nods. 

“That’s fine, we’ll go to the store later to get your juice with a hint of alcohol,” he says, already smiling because he knows how to push your buttons. You smack your palm against his chest, the action gentle but the way your eyes squint at him is pure evil. “What?” He acts clueless. “Nothing to be ashamed of.” 

You fight the urge to flick his ear, but you’re better than him. “Damn right,” you huff, attempting to turn away from him, but he doesn’t let you. “You’re mean.” 

He rumbles in response, tightening his hold on you as he goes to rub his nose against yours. “But you love me,” he sings, earning a scoff from you. “Alright, alright, let’s get up and get you fed before you sew all the tail holes in my pants shut again.” He nearly shivers at the thought. 

You roll your eyes, letting him pull you up out of bed. You sit at the edge, watching Taehyung as he grabs a pair of lounge pants and fluffy socks from your dresser. He kneels down and places the socks on for you, but leaves to the kitchen so you can do the rest of your morning routine in private. 

The pancakes are as tragic as you expected and to make matters worse, your nose had deceived you. While you had been busy brushing your hair and teeth in your bathroom, the smell coming from the kitchen had been enticing; you were excited, only to be terribly disappointed minutes later. 

Despite Taehyung insisting he can cook, the food that lands in front of you is thick, uneven, and barely golden on one side and burnt on the other. The butter melts into strange pockets on the surface, syrup dripping off the edges like it’s trying to escape, but failing. He watches expectantly, ears twitching and tail tapping against the back of his chair across from you. 

You take one bite, chewing slowly. ‘Don’t break his heart, (y/n).’ You tell yourself, forcing the food down with a harsh swallow. “It’s good,” you tell him, offering a smile as you go to take another dreadful bite. 

His brows furrow. “It’s good?” and the way he says it is like he’s testing you, like he knows something you don’t. 

“Yeah,” you grin, poking at the pancake on your plate. “Like, definitely food. Totally food-shaped.” You don’t mean to make him feel bad, you find his attempt endearing, but you’d never pass up on the opportunity to tease him either. 

He growls low, not out of anger but frustration, and snatches your fork. You try to complain, but he cuts you off. “Eat properly.” He huffs, taking a larger piece and holding it out to you, hand steady. You look at the fork then to him, defeat evident in your expression, then back to the fork with a sigh. You lean forward obediently, lips wrapping around the fork and you will yourself not to grimace as you chew and swallow.

“It’s good,” you lie again, but Taehyung's ears pin back and he frowns.

“You’re a bad liar,” he replies, glancing down at his plate to try a bite. “I think you forget how well I know you,” he adds, a hint of a smirk when he says it. When he finally tries a bite for himself, it is clear he doesn’t like it either — his jaw hesitates to chew and his ears droop down. “Oh, wow. Next time, I’ll do better.” you bark out a laugh at that, feeling justified in your own reaction. 

And you don’t doubt that the next round of pancakes will be better; he doesn’t fail at anything he puts his mind to — including you. 

By the time you both get up to get dressed and head to the store, it’s noon and comfortable silence has filled the gaps of your day. He picks out one of his red hoodies for you to wear, tugging it over your head and smoothing down the fabric like he’s marking his territory. You let him pick your perfume for the day, paying no mind when he rubs his scent glands on every surface he intends to spray beforehand — he once said his scent on you to hybrids is what perfume is to humans. 

When you get to the grocery store, it’s quiet. Taehyung keeps a hand on your lower back the whole time, steering you through aisles till you reach the back where the alcohol is without saying much. He doesn’t need to; his body moves around yours like its instinct.

“Juice with a hint of alcohol,” he teases, dropping a four-pack of wine coolers into the basket. His eyes are scanning the shelves for what to grab next, smiling because you look so cute when annoyed. 

You narrow your eyes, staring at the back of his head. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Never,” he says without hesitation, reaching out to grab a bottle of whiskey and placing it in the cart beside yours. “Namjoon likes this, we’ll share it,” he mumbles to himself. “And for Lisa… something fruity because you two like to share.” He pauses, hand resting on a 6-pack of black cherry smirnoff, and turns his attention to you. “Do you want snacks?”

You shake your head, suddenly aware of how much attention he pays to everyone’s preferences — especially yours. He knows what Lisa drinks and that you like to share, what Namjoon likes, what makes you scrunch your nose. He knows it all without needing to ask. And to top it off, you know he’ll grab two packs of sour candy anyway because you have a sweet tooth when drunk. 

By the time you’re home again, alcohol unloaded and placed in the fridge while you work to tidy the house, your stomach twists with something you don’t want to name, so you land on anxiety instead. Taehyung moves around your apartment like he owns it, and maybe he does. Maybe you want him to own the apartment and everything inside it. 

Evening comes too quick. Lisa walks through the door first, all bright laughter and easy hugs, eyes shifting between you and Taehyung like she knows something you don’t. Namjoon follows close behind, a bag of chips in hand and a sheepish smile that immediately puts you on edge, because he isn’t alone.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Namjoon says, stepping aside. “Jimin was free, and well, you know how he is.” Jimin comes bounding in behind him, all smiles and excitement. His fox ears twitch in Taehyung's direction, acknowledging his presence. 

“Surprise!” Jimin grins, holding up a case of beer. His blond hair glows under the light and his dimples cut deep when he notices Taehyung’s ears perk up sharply. I’ve missed you both,” he wines, coming up to give you both a tight hug. He pauses on you a moment, nose twitching and eyes glancing over to your hybrid; they communicate silently, and Jimin backs off, still maintaining his excited energy. 

You plaster on a smile, ignoring his odd behavior. “Of course I don’t mind,” you say, having missed the boy yourself, though your chest tightens when you remember you only have four chairs.

Everyone settles in quickly — Lisa is chatting about her week, complaining about her boss per usual; god, she hates that guy. Jimin is cracking jokes at Namjoon’s expense, telling everyone how he hit a curb on the way here and now his car is making a grinding noise. Taehyung is hovering close to you with a steady presence that borders on suffocation — has he always been this big? When it comes time to sit, the problem becomes obvious; four chairs with five people.

You hesitate, glancing around the table. Lisa and Namjoon are already seated across from each other and Jimin is lingering like he doesn’t care where he ends up. And Taehyung — god, Taehyung just lowers himself into a chair, his eyes steady on yours. He pats his thigh once. Slow and deliberate. The other three are deep in conversation, laughing away at something Namjoon says. 

Your face heats, caught somewhere between embarrassment and desire; it shocks you how bad you want to listen to him. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t push, just waits calm as ever, but those dark ears of his twitch at every breath you take. You mull over your options silently. You could drag over a stool from the counter, you could tell everyone to move to the living room or… You can make this easy.

Taehyung shifts in his seat, spreading his legs apart and tilting his head at you; he’s not asking you if you want to, he’s asking why you haven’t. 

Your legs move before your brain decides and you cross the room and seat yourself onto his lap, heat crawling up your neck as his arm curls naturally around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest. You worry someone will point it out, will ask you why you chose to sit on his lap instead of somewhere else, but conversation doesn’t falter. 

Lisa keeps chatting, Jimin laughs at her story as he sits across from you two, and Namjoon doesn’t look twice. Only you feel the shift — the press of Taehyung’s thigh under you, the steady thrum of his chest against your back, the warmth of his hand resting too high on your hip to be casual. No one points it out and you begin to wonder if he has always been like this with you. 

You try to focus on Lisa’s story, laughing a beat too late and struggling to comprehend her words. All you can think about is how his hands feel on your hips. ‘how did we get here?’ you wonder, chewing on your lip. 

Taehyung leans down just enough for only you to hear, his breath ghosting against your ear as he speaks, “Good girl.” and then leans back to join the conversation like nothing happened. His fingers toy with the hem of your hoodie before going under the thick fabric.

Your spine is tingling like an electric field. The world goes on around you — Jimin laughing, glasses clinking — but your body is hooked on Taehyung's next move; waiting, hoping. 

“Sweetheart,” Taehyung rumbles, sliding his hand up to your ribcage. You look up at him dumbly, waiting for him to finish speaking, but he nods his head towards Lisa. “She’s been trying to ask you a question.” 

You blush, coughing to clear your throat as you turn towards the girl, doing your best to ignore his finger gliding across the wire of your bra. “Sorry, I was zoned out,” you say, trying to play it off. The girl just giggles and repeats her question, wanting to try one of your drinks and if she gives you one of hers. You nod and go to reach for one, but Taehyung beats you to it, opening it before handing it to Lisa. 

And when you finally do relax, your drink doing its job to ease your nerves, Taehyung starts rubbing circles on your side, making you lose track of what you were saying to Namjoon. You recover quickly, finishing your sentence before leaning into Tae, sliding your own hand under the hoodie to gently pry him away — it doesn’t work, he just laughs softly and pushes it away and damn, that shouldn’t be nearly as hot as it is. 

You huff, tipsy eyes searching the table for a snack. “Taehyung,” you whine, watching his ears twitch. He looks down at you, mumbling a quiet ‘cute’ at your expression. Your eyes are wide, mind working slowly as you think. “I want a snack,” you tell him, matter of fact. You watch as one of his long arms dip down besides you into a bag, pulling out one of the sour candies he had grabbed for you earlier. He opens the package, places it in front of you, and grabs a piece to feed you. “Thank you,” you say, chewing happily. 

You take the time to study him while Jimin rumages through your drawer for a card game, grumbling about how you can never keep things organized. He looks so handsome, you think, eyes dragging from his jaw to his nose, then to the underside of his lashes. “Who keeps uno in their junk drawer?” Jimin whines, breaking your focus. His ears are pinned back as he sets the deck down softly on the table and you stick your tongue out at him — as far as you’re concerned everyone does. 

On the other end of the table, Namjoon tips the bottle of whiskey toward you with a smirk. “One shot won’t kill you.” he says, offering his shot glass to go with it. 

Lisa giggles, sipping her cooler. “She’s not going to drink that.” and you nod in agreement, getting ready to tell him no when Taehyung makes the decision for you.

He reaches across, taking the bottle and uses his own glass to pour a shot. He holds it to your lips expectantly, the smell burning your nose. “She will,” he says, calm and steady. He doesn’t ask, doesn’t need to. You stare up at him annoyed — he knows how much you hate whiskey, but you listen anyway. 

The shot burns, sliding down your throat and making you wince. You screw your eyes shut, nearly coughing and a drop rolls from your lip down to your chin, but you’re too busy fighting for your life to care. Taehyung takes it upon himself to wipe it away, thumb dragging slowly across your skin, catching the spill. He brings the digit to his mouth, licking what he caught off. Jimin raises his brow, but a look of understanding washes over him and he goes back to the conversation. You hate that you can’t ask him what's happening. ‘He’s just being caring’ you tell yourself, but you still feel your pulse trip over itself.

The game stretches on — Lisa ranting about Jimin giving her a plus four, Namjoon interrupting with jokes only to be dealt the same fate, and Jimin cackling as everyone glares at him. You try to follow, you really do, but every time you shift in Taehyung’s lap you feel how solid he is beneath you. “UNO,” you yell happily, placing down a plus two that has Lisa ready to strangle someone as she shuffles through her 15 cards.

You laugh at her struggle, taking a small break to fix your position. The chair is narrow and you need to adjust. You wiggle in Taehyung's lap, not thinking twice when his grip on you tightens — It could be nothing, but then he pulls your hips further back and shifts his to meet it. Your eyes widen, thoughts running into each other as you try to make sense of what he did. Maybe you’re just drunk, yeah, that’s it. 

Your breath hitches when Taehyung pulls your hips flush against him, once again shifting his own up into you, slower this time, more deliberate and you can feel him hardening underneath you. He stays like this for a moment, gauging your reaction and relaxing when you don’t say anything. Unbeknownst to you, the green light has officially been given. 

You steady yourself by leaning forward against the table, using your hands and elbows to support your head as you wait for your turn in the game. You lightly drag your pelvis against him, and his hands drop down to your hips to tug you back. A low growl leaves him, one only you and Jimin can hear. The fox hybrid’s ears turn in your direction, head shooting up at the sound as he cocks his head at the Kangal. Taehyung shakes his head and Jimin shrugs. 

Jimin smirks a few minutes later, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he narrows in on you. “Hybrids get so territorial, huh? Bet Tae doesn’t even share.” He says, smiling as he places the last card in his hand down, winning the game. He sits back in his chair, arms resting behind his head. 

Taehyung doesn’t blink, doesn’t breathe. He takes a strip of sour candy from the bag and lifts it to your lips, using his other hand to hold your jaw in place. He doesn’t even glance at Jimin, just waits patiently for you to catch on. Heat travels up your neck like poison ivy as you part your lips, taking the candy directly from his hand. His knuckles brush your mouth as you chew, eyes hooded and unreadable. “I do share,” he says finally, letting go of your face and taking a piece for himself as if to prove a point — but he knows that’s not what Jimin meant. “But only I chose,” he continues, eyes glancing down at you. “And some things are meant to be shared.”

Now it’s Jimin's turn to be stunned, ears flicking as he tries to think of something to say. Everyone has gone quiet, eyes glued to you and Taehyung. It seems you are the only one that has missed the memo once again, typical you — how unfortunate. You laugh nervously, fiddling with one of his fingers as your eyes look at everyone in the room. “Is there something on my face?” you ask nervously, smile falling. 

Jimin pauses, thinking over his sentence before he says it anyway; the alcohol dismantles whatever manners he has left. “No,” he snickers. “But there will be soon,” and everyone bursts out laughing and you look to Taehyung to explain, but he just shrugs and tightens his grip, muttering a quiet ‘don’t worry about it,’ that does little to ease your nerves. 

“Well,” Lisa says, gathering her items casually. “I think it’s time we go.” and the other two nod, grabbing their things as well.

“Yep, wouldn’t want Jimin throwing up — he’s already halfway there,” Namjoon adds, glancing at the fox hybrid. He sways carefully, like he’s doing his best to play sober but it’s failing. 

You stand from his lap, giving everyone a hug and wishing them a safe drive. “Text me when you all get home, okay?” you say, pointing a finger at everyone. You lean against your door frame, watching as they walk down the hall to the elevator. Once they are out of view, Taehyung comes up behind you, pressing himself against your back and wrapping an arm around your waist. He leads you inside, closing the door behind him. 

The silence that follows is thick, humming with everything left unsaid. You’re still in his arms, body flush against his, letting him lead you to the living room. Your mind is a haze of questions — why did Jimin say those things? Why did everyone react the way they did? You’re deep in thought when Taehyung stops at the couch, pushing you to sit down gently. 

When you finally glance up at him, he’s already watching you, pupils dilated, ears twitching, and tail sweeping dangerously behind him. You look over to the kitchen, drunken munchies urging you to grab a snack, to do something to break the tension. 

His voice is quiet, threaded with gravel when it comes — it’s like he can read your mind, but nothing about his tone is genuine. 

“Still hungry?”

Your eyes snap up, his words repeat in your mind; ‘still hungry?’ and you nod slowly, afraid your voice will betray you. He is still standing in front of you, forcing you to tilt your head back to look at him. 

He grins, something animalistic coming to the surface. He gets down to his knees, spreading your legs apart with more force than even he anticipated. His hands slide from your knees to the crease of your thigh slowly, eyes watching your face carefully. Then, he says, “I’m starved.” and you don’t even have the time to register what he said before his mouth crashes onto yours. 

It isn’t just a kiss — it’s desperation that has you gasping and him taking it as permission to slide his tongue in. His lips are hard and consuming, stealing your breath as if it belongs to him. The first drag of his canines across your bottom lip makes you whine, and he seizes the sound, devouring it like it feeds him. “Make that noise again,” he demands, tugging your hair and forcing your head back so he can bite down on the thin skin of your neck. 

“Taehyung,” you whine again, fisting a piece of his shirt in your hand. He groans at the sound of his name, breathing heavy before biting again. Every whimper, every whine causes him to shiver — he could drown in those noises, in you. 

The way he attacks your neck is messy; wet open mouth kisses trailing from your jaw to your collarbone, his large hand forcing the opening of your hoodie down so he can suck on the exposed skin. 

You can’t breathe, can’t think. All you know is the press of him against you, the taste of him flooding your mouth, and the feeling of his hot tongue dragging along your skin. You want more, you think — no, you need more. 

When he finally tears away, it’s only long enough to rasp against your lips, voice hoarse with need. The way you whine at the loss of contact drives him crazy, ears twitching and tail thumping furiously against the ground. 

“Fuck, baby,” he says, the words strangled. “do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?”

You whimper, heart thumping against your chest. “Show me.”

He growls, low and dangerous, slamming his mouth back against yours. His kiss is deeper, rougher, and dragging you under like a riptide that you don’t want to escape. His sharp teeth catch your lower lip, tugging to force another gasp out of you that he chases with his tongue. 

You melt, pliant in his grip, and it only spurs him on. Both of his hands grip your waist, hauling you close, dragging you off the couch and over the solid muscle of his clothed thigh. The friction makes you moan into his mouth, a helpless, broken sound that you can’t hide and god, that moan destroys him. The noise he makes is a mix between a rumble and a growl, hips jerking up beneath you as if he can’t control it. You’re grinding on your own now, not subtle and definitely not accidental. His grip locks you there, forcing you to move with him. “God, baby. Just like that,” he says between kisses. Sweat beads form on his forehead. 

“Taehyung,” you moan, one hand curling into his hair while the other rests on the side of his face. ‘Is this what heaven feels like?’ you wonder. 

“Say it again.” He demands, lips crashing against your jaw, your throat, teeth scraping anywhere he can find skin. His voice is ragged, pleading. “Beg for me.”

“I want you—” your voice cracks as his tongue drags hot across the pulse below your ear. 

He nips the spot, moving on to the next area of unmarked skin. “C’mon sweetheart, good girls finish their sentences.” 

Your nails dig into his shoulders, frantic. You don’t want him to stop — ‘please, please don’t stop’ you think. “I need you. Please. Please don’t stop.” Your voice is high pitched and begging. 

His answering growl vibrates against your throat, clearly satisfied. “Begging so sweet already,” he mutters, almost to himself. His mouth crashes back onto yours before you can say more, swallowing the desperate whines you make for him. 

You’ve never been kissed like this; with such need.

Your head falls back as his mouth trails down your jaw, sucking bruises into your skin, biting, and marking you in ways you’ll feel tomorrow morning. His hands roam everywhere — gripping your waist, sliding up your back, pinning you to him so you can’t move, can’t escape even if you wanted to. Every now and then when your grinding slows or grows sloppy, he bruises your hips, guiding you along his thigh to give your muscles a break. 

“You drive me insane,” he snarls, teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Sitting in my lap, acting like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing—”

“I wasn’t—” you try and fail.

“You were.” His voice is firm. “And now you can’t take it back.”

His mouth is on yours again before you can respond, devouring you with a ferocity that makes your chest ache. Every kiss is deeper, rougher, needier, like he’s trying to crawl inside your lungs and breathe for you. “And that scent,” he groans, ripping himself from your lips like it pains him to bury his nose in your neck, inhaling deeply. “You’re so damn fertile I can’t help but want to claim you, fill you with my pups — it’s hereditary, the way I crave to mark my existence inside of you.” 

You can’t stop the sound that spills out from you at his confession; it’s a high-pitched whimper followed by a “please,” that almost shocks you. He pulls you down harder, grinding you down against him until your whole-body burns. “You like that, don’t you?” he says, tone dripping with confidence. “Bet you’d give me a whole litter if I asked.” and you nod mindlessly, willing to do whatever he asks.  

Your hands clutch him close, eyes shut as you attempt to hide in his shoulder. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” you babble on, words spilling out faster than you can think. 

“You think I can?” he growls, pulling you from his shoulder with one hand, forcing you to make eye contact. His voice breaks with the same desperation consuming you both. “I’m past stopping.”

His control is gone. Completely gone.

He kisses you like he’s been starving for years and you’re his first taste. Every second drags you deeper, every brush of his tongue, every sharp bite of his teeth pushes you closer to unraveling. You’re begging without even meaning to, words tumbling between kisses. You’ve reached the point of no return, and you couldn’t be greedier — you need more, need him; you need everything he has to give you. 

“Good girl,” he rasps, kissing you harder. “Keep begging. Feed me like the starving animal I am.”

And you do, you give him everything — your mouth, your breath, your voice — offering it up like it’s the only thing you know how to do, like it’s the only thing you want to do. 

Your heart races as Taehyung's fingers finally slip under the hem of your hoodie to take it off, the warmth of his skin against yours sending a shiver down your spine. The room feels smaller now, like the space consists entirely of you and him, nothing else. You'd both been dancing around this tension all night — his body pressed too close during the game, his hips grinding up into yours under the table, deliberate and unapologetic. You hadn't pulled away then, and you surely won’t now.

Taehyung's lips graze the shell of your ear, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. "I need you, all of you," he murmurs, his hand sliding down to your pants, fingers dipping just under the waistband of your jeans. Your breath catches, a soft gasp escaping before you can stop it. His thumb presses against the button of your jeans, popping it open with ease, and you freeze, pulse thundering in your ears.

You reach down to help him, to speed the process up and get your pants off now, but he stops you, pushing your hand away with a warning growl that makes you clench your thighs around him. 

"That's it," he rumbles softly, approval lacing his tone as he tugs the zipper down inch by inch. His fingers inch inside, brushing over the lace of your panties, and you whimper quietly, hands gripping the edge of the couch behind you. He's hard against your thigh, the thick length of him pressing insistently through his pants, and the realization of just how big he feels makes your mouth go dry. You know better than to ask if it’ll fit, you know he’d make it and the thought alone makes you involuntarily whine. 

Taehyung halts his movements, ears twitching as he thinks, then he lifts you up with ease, carrying you to your bedroom without a word. You gasp at the sudden movement, ready to say something until he tosses you onto the bed, door slamming shut behind you. Then he's on you again, stripping your jeans off with impatient yanks and grumbles. The cool air hits your skin, eliciting a shiver, but his body covers yours immediately, hot and heavy as he pins you to the bed. His mouth trails fire down your neck, adding to his collection of dark purple marks. "Mine," he mutters against your collarbone, biting down just enough to sting, then soothing it with his tongue.

You push him back, fingers tugging uselessly at his pants. “Take it off,” you whine. But when he does, your eyes widen at the sight of him; He's huge, bigger than you could’ve imagined, the head flushed a pretty pink and leaking pre-cum. A whimper escapes you, half fear, half desperate want, and he smirks — he’s got the look of a man who’s not only confident with what he has but knows how to use it. 

"This will hurt," he warns, eyes searching for any resistance as he climbs over you, knee nudging your thighs apart when he sees none. His fingers hook into your panties, ripping them clean off with a growl. "You're so small compared to me,” he says, eyes staring down at your frame. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he adds, softer. 

You nod nervously, unhooking your own bra quickly after seeing his methods. 

He sinks one finger, then two, pumping them in and out slowly and curling to hit the spot that makes your back arch. "You look so pretty like this," he coos, adding a third finger, silently enjoying the way your brows furrow in a mix of pleasure and pain. Your walls flutter around the intrusion as he works you closer to the edge, thumb rubbing your clit in firm circles. You push into his hand, moans spilling freely now. “More,” you whine. “Please, more — I can take it,” you tell him, fisting the sheets. 

"I know you can, baby," he soothes, withdrawing his fingers with a wet pop that makes you whine in protest. He positions himself at your entrance, the blunt head of his cock teasing your entrance. He slides the tip along your folds a few times, using your wetness as lube. "Gonna fill you up, make you mine. You want that? Want me to breed you?” 

His usage of breed sends a jolt through you, body responding before your mind can catch up. You nod frantically, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Yes, please. Breed me.” you beg, ignoring the fact you’re ovulating — your mind isn’t thinking clear, dulled by desire and the alcohol from earlier. 

He pushes in painfully slow, but you still cry out, the stretch immense and bordering on too much as you struggle to accommodate his girth. "Oh god," you cry, tears pricking your eyes from the burning. "Feels like you're tearing me apart." but he continues anyway, pushing till you’re stuffed full of him because not once have you said to stop. 

Taehyung stills once he is fully inside; forehead pressed to yours and his breath ragged. "Good girl. You're doing so well taking my cock. It’s like you were made for it." He praises, using his hands to spread your legs even further. 

When he starts to move, it’s slow and gentle drags, building a rhythm that has you seeing stars and relaxing into him. The obscene squelch of your arousal coating his dick makes him chuckle. "Look at you," he grunts, hooking your left leg over his shoulder to angle deeper. "Swallowing me whole." His eyes are locked in on the way your pussy swallows him, taking every inch he gives you. 

You squirm, the new position letting him hit even harder, pounding against your cervix with every snap of his hips. His hand wraps around your throat — not squeezing, just holding as he leans down to capture your mouth again. The kiss is sloppy, all tongue and teeth, mirroring the wet sounds of him fucking into you. “Sweetheart,” he groans, jaw tight. “You’re gripping me like you don’t want to let go.”

“Please don’t,” you tell him, grinding down to meet every thrust of his. 

His hips jerk, rhythm becoming uneven. “Baby, I'm not gonna last long if you keep saying stuff like that,” he warns, teeth finding your collarbone to bite down on. His breathing is heavy, warm bursts of air fanning your skin. 

"Don’t care," you mumble, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him down until his chest is flush against yours. He obliges, movements turning frantic, hips pistoning faster. You feel it building — the swell at his base, his knot starting to form, pressing insistently against your entrance with each thrust. You’ve read about this on the internet, but you realize a little too late you should’ve asked him about it. 

"Gonna knot you," he whines, voice strained, eyes glossed over with an animalistic desire. "Lock us together while I pump you full of my cum. Breed you until it's dripping out, gonna mark you from the inside." His words are filthy promises, pushing you toward the edge. Taehyung slips a hand between you, rough fingers finding your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts.

Your own hand finds one of his ears, scratching at the base as you mindlessly beg for more in between moans. 

With a guttural roar, he slams forward, ears pinning back as his knot pops fully inside, inflating and sealing him deep against your cervix. The sensation tips you over, your own orgasm crashing through as your wall's spasm around his locked cock, milking him for all he’s worth. He follows seconds later, hips jerking erratically as hot spurts of cum flood your insides, painting your walls white. "Take it all," he praises through gritted teeth, grinding against you to push it deeper — you cry out from the pain of it, his blunt tip bruising your cervix even more. 

You start to panic when you can’t get away from the pain, tugging weakly below him for relief. “Shh, sweetheart. Don’t fight it.” He calms, voice is rough but soothing, lips brushing your temple. “It’s just my knot. Keeping everything inside. Keeping you mine.” but it doesn’t help the pain. 

“Hurts,” you whine softly, trying to relax in his hold. 

“I know,” he tells you, kissing your forehead. “I’m sorry pretty girl, it’ll go down soon. Just be good for me until then, okay?” and you nod, you can be good. 

The world feels hazy when his knot finally begins to deflate. Your body trembles, boneless under his weight, the ache in your thighs a dull throb compared to the stretch still pulsing deep inside you. 

Taehyung doesn’t move, doesn’t want to. His chest sticks against yours, his face buried in the crook of your neck as if he can’t let you go quite yet. His breath is hot and uneven, fanning across your damp skin. The low rumble in his chest starting up slowly, like an engine turning over. The vibrations are soothing. 

You whimper, shifting slightly. “Tae…”

“Shh,” he murmurs, voice deep and rough from overuse. He presses a kiss to your temple, then another to your jaw. “Don’t move yet, sweetheart. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I already do,” you admit, voice so small it makes his dark ears flick back. It’s not all a bad hurt, but the dull ache of him pressed against your cervix is almost too much. 

He lifts his head immediately, amber eyes sharp with concern, the feral edge softened now into something achingly tender. His big hands cup your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone gently. “I know,” he whispers, guilt pulling at his expression. “I’ll take care of it, okay?” he promises.

And he does.

His hand trails down, stroking soothing circles over your thigh, smoothing out the leftover tremors in your muscles. He lowers his head again, nipping softly at your collarbone before licking over the sting — not to arouse, but to soothe. He repeats this process multiple times. His tongue traces over every mark he left, and he hums in quiet satisfaction, pleased that your skin is holding his scent.

The knot finally begins to slip, shrinking enough for him to slide out slowly and he growls low in his throat when you whimper at the empty stretch, but instead of teasing, he presses his forehead to yours. “So good for me,” he praises, kissing both corners of your mouth. “My perfect girl.”

You blink up at him, eyes blurred and face flushed. It makes him smile, a soft curve of his lips that’s just for you. He leaves the bed, disappearing for a moment, and you hear the bathroom sink run. When he returns, he’s got a warm cloth in his hand and a small bottle of ointment. 

“Stay still,” he says quietly, tone leaving no room for argument. But it’s not harsh, it’s protective. 

He cleans you carefully, gentle hands wiping away the mess between your thighs. Every time you twitch or hiss, he pauses to murmur reassurance and paise, brushing his fingers over your bruised hip until you relax again.

Once he’s satisfied, he tosses the cloth aside and pulls the blanket up, tucking it snug around you. He spins the cap off the triple antibiotic, spreading thin layers over the areas he sunk his teeth in before climbing in beside you. His arm wraps around your middle, pulling you against him, nose immediately burying itself in your hair. He breathes deep, long inhales that relax his own muscles, grounding himself in your mixed scent.

You mumble something against his chest, too quiet to catch.

“What was that, sweetheart?” he asks, brushing his fingers through your hair, slow and steady, detangling with a patience you didn’t know he had left in him. Unbeknownst to you, he’d move mountains if you asked him too — anything you want, he’d do. 

You repeat yourself clearer, words shy. “You weren’t too rough, I liked it.” and he breathes a sigh of relief. He was worried he had been too much for your small body to handle, but your words ease those fears. Next time, he will spend more time prepping you, though. 

Silence fills the room, the soft noise of the living room tv that never got turned off making his ears twitch occasionally. He’s on the border of sleep when the words leave his mouth, soft and quiet; part of him hopes you don’t hear it, the fear of you thinking it’s too soon lingering, but for him he’s felt this way since the first day. “I love you.” 

Monomania 

monomania | ˌmänəˈmeinēə | noun exaggerated or obsessive enthusiasm for or preoccupation with one thing: she has an obsession with the drug that verges on monomania. 

There was something wrong with Taehyung. 

There were a few things in this world that Taehyung loved. He loves jazz music. The sultry melodies and the rhythmic sounds of brass instruments enticed him. He loved fashion. When people were creative, it inspired him more to chase after his own dreams and push his own ideas out to the world. He loved his camera. 

Because his camera was filled with pictures of you. 

Pictures of you at work. Your outfits. Your friends. The boys who occupied your attention from him. Your apartment. He especially loved taking pictures of your apartment. 

Whether you were there, whether you weren’t. He was obsessed with your apartment. 

Mainly because in his mind, you both shared the space. At least, it will be soon. 

It started almost one year ago.  

Taehyung worked long hours at a marketing company. He dreaded his job. Especially his coworkers and boss. 

The bakery down the street from his office was where he spent his lunch breaks occasionally. Until you started working there. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, from 2pm-6pm, you were there earning a buck. 

When he first noticed you, your kind smile and soft skin struck his eyes. He looked at you like you were a rare jewel on a sparkling necklace. Your voice was like honey, and your tone was gentle and sweet. 

“Welcome, May I take your order please?” 

He stared for almost a second too long. He returned your smile with his timid one. 

“A hot black coffee, and cheese croissant please,” 

You nodded, following along as you typed the order on the screen. “Cream, sugar, milk?” you questioned softly. 

He shook his head, pulling out a crisp $20 bill and handing it to you. “Please, keep the change,” 

Your eyes lit up at the kind gesture. “Thank you! I’ll make sure to have it right out to you!” You beamed as you handed him his receipt sweetly, waving him off. 

Taehyung reciprocated the smile, bowing his head and taking the receipt to his table by the window. His eyes trailed to you once he took his seat, watching as you interact with each customer. Kind eyes. Soft voice. Sweet demeanor. Like a princess, or an angel from a movie. You were the complete opposite of him. 

You seemed to enjoy your job, enjoy interacting with others. And everyone seemed to love interacting with you. This was quite the opposite for Taehyung. 

He hated others. He hated interactions. Everyone seemed to hate him too. 

“Here you go sir,” your voice sang as you placed a tray with his order down in front of him. 

Packets of sugar and various creamers amongst the trays. “I know you said you didn’t want any cream or sugar, but it seems like you’re having a rough day.  A little sugar wouldn’t hurt?” You suggested with a little grin, waiting for his reaction. 

He was wide-eyed and at a loss for words. You noticed his tense demeanor right beneath him, despite how kind he was while placing his order. You saw right through him. No. You noticed him. He’d never been noticed before. 

“Thank you,” he replied, watching you wave once more before turning on your heel back to your station. 

He eyed you as you took off, attending the counter once more. 

He cleared his throat before taking out his small digital camera, as he loved to snap photos of his meals every now and then. For some reason, the meal bestowed upon him from you deserved its own snapshot that day. So, he did. He snapped a photo before eating. 

As he exited, a chirp from you could be heard on his way out. “Have a great day! Come again!” 

His ears perked, head turning towards your beautiful expression again. Waving meekly before exiting the café. 

That was the day he decided to come again. And again. 

—— 

He came in again later that week around the same time. This time, you weren’t at the cash register, you were making the drinks. 

You smiled once you noticed him again. “Oh! Hi Sir, nice to see you again,” you exclaimed cheerfully. 

Taehyung was caught off guard. You’d remembered him, and it had only been the second time you’d seen him. Yes, you had left an impression on him, but did he leave one on you? 

“Hi, nice to see you. See you’re making the drinks today,” he chuckled awkwardly. He was never good at small talk. It was something his coworkers critiqued a lot about his behavior. The main reason why he didn’t speak to them now. 

You giggled back, nodding your head. “Black coffee again? Or could I make you something actually yummy today?” You questioned, grabbing a cup and sleeve as you headed towards the espresso machine. 

His brows were raised in surprise. Taehyung didn’t usually receive offers from anyone. Not even negative sarcastic ones. At his job, he simply did as told and continued on with his day. And he didn’t have any close friends either who would offer anything to him. 

“Oh, whatever you want to make is okay. I’m not picky,” 

You smiled, nodding as you began to make the beverage. A hot caramel coffee with whole milk and an extra pump of sugar. It was sweet. It was almost too sweet, but it was delicious.  

You sat the beverage on the pickup counter, signaling him to receive the drink. 

Taehyung shyly approached the counter, looking for confirmation. “Is this mine?” 

You nodded. “Try it! I think you’ll really like it,” 

He reluctantly picked up the warm cup, pulling it towards his lips as he took a long swig of the sweet coffee. He tasted the drink against his lips, his eyes widening at how much he enjoyed it. 

You clapped your hands cheerfully at his reaction.  

Cute.  

“It’s really good,” he complimented genuinely. You coined a big grin at his praise. 

“I’m so glad you liked it! I hate when people drink plain coffee, so I whipped this one up just for you,” you explained. 

Just for him? Favors and gifts were a foreign concept to Taehyung. Outside of his mother, he rarely received anything nice from those around him. Hell, he can’t even receive a day off from his company when it’s his birthday. 

“Hey uhm- I didn’t get rung up for this, how much is this?” He nervously remarked, his statement shushed once you shook your head. 

“Oh please, it’s on the house. You seem so stressed every time you come into the shop,” you replied, leaning against the counter as your eyes locked in with his. 

He took the opportunity to properly gaze upon your face. Eyeing every detail of your beautiful carved face. You were adorable. Your personality matched your beauty perfectly; it wasn’t something that could be disregarded or ignored by him. 

“I am,” he openly admits as he continued to sip his drink. “I work every day at that marketing building down there,” he pointed outside the window. 

Your eyes followed his direction. “Ahhh, I see. Marketing seems hard. I have school every day and work every other day afterwords, and I find myself getting really tired and stressed too. I can’t imagine what you’re going through,” 

On the outside, Taehyung nodded, following along with your words politely. But on the inside, he made mental notes. You worked every other day? Great. He’d figured out how to tailor his lunch breaks around your shifts. 

And school? Hm, what university could you go to? What is your major? How long did you have left?  

“Are you in college?” He simply asked, narrowing down his questions into one simple umbrella. 

You nodded, humming an ‘mhm’ to him. “It’s my third year. I’m a student at the downtown campus, focusing on healthcare,” you answered him. 

Taehyung's smile grew. Healthcare, third year? It made perfect sense. Your caring demeanor and youthful appearance. 

He looked at his watch and scoffed at the time. “I have to go back to work sadly,” he sighed, a furrowing of his brows amongst his face as he frowned. 

You returned the small frown, nodding your head before you waved off. 

“Wait!” You erupted as he turned his back. 

His brows cocked in confusion. 

“What’s your name sir,” you politely asked finally. 

He was taken aback, before clearing his throat to answer. “Taehyung,” 

Taehyung. The name registered in your mind from there on out. “Y/n, nice to meet you sir,” you introduced. 

Your name stuck with him like glue. He repeated your name to himself for the rest of the day. A name belonging to the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.  

———- 

Following his next few visits, Taehyung took his lunch breaks as an opportunity to get to know you more. At least, it started off innocently. 

He learned about your favorite food, your favorite class, and even sat on lunch breaks with you. He rarely spoke about himself, but with you, he felt free enough to let you in. 

He was older. Much older, but to you, he was just a really kind customer who spent 30 minutes every few days with you. Made your shifts go by quicker, tipped you well. 

But God, were you so much more than that to him. 

You slowly became the reason why Taehyung woke up every morning. Why he became less irritated at work, why he sprayed extra cologne on in the morning, and starched his outfits every night. 

You became the reason Taehyung took long walks around the city, hoping he could catch more traces of you. 

When you told Taehyung you were going to the library after work, he took it upon himself to go as well. Not with you, that would be overstepping a boundary. No. He disguised himself in a narrow corner by the entrance of the library, watching you walk in with a friend of yours to the study space. 

He eyed you from the corner, watching you place your earbuds in and highlight over your textbook. He took in the way the warm lights highlighted your face. How cute your scrunched nose adorned you as you were deeply focused on your book. 

As blessed as Taehyung was to observe this with his own eyes, he was too greedy to only take in the moment once. 

He fetched his camera, shutting off the flash of course before snapping a quick photo of you. Looking at the image immediately after it was snapped and saving it to his private folder of you. 

You studied for 3 hours. He stayed the entire time. 

Taehyung made a habit of waiting outside your job once you got off. Making sure you boarded the bus safely, as he waited in his car for you to do so. You didn’t know he did this. He wouldn’t tell. But he did. 

You were too innocent in his eyes to wait alone. You weren’t cautious enough to watch your surroundings and the people around you. A young girl like you taking public transit at night wasn’t a smart idea. Even when Taehyung offered you rides home, you politely declined as you didn’t want to bother him. 

But boy, you taking the bus bothered him worse. 

Today was different. 

Taehyung discovered that you lived alone. No one was home ever waiting for you to return. You walked alone every night. You came home to an empty apartment. 

Taehyung liked that. 

He waited in his car, parallel parked across the street as he waited for your bus to retrieve you. 

You should’ve been more alert, waiting at night for the bus to arrive. Maybe if you were, you would have noticed his car. You would have noticed him in the window. 

But you didn’t. You were naïve of the world. You didn’t overthink much, and it was a blessing and a curse. 

Your bus arrived. You boarded. The bus drove, and so did Taehyung. All the way until the bus dropped you off at your stop, which was right across the street from your apartment complex. 

Taehyung, of course, snapped his photos. You getting on the bus. You disembarking the bus. And you walking into your small complex. 

He parked at the leasing office of your building. Again, you should be weary and notice that this car had followed you for 20 minutes, but you didn’t.  

Taehyung watched as you walked, safely making it into your place in one piece before shutting the door. He watched as the windows inside lit up with the lights you turned on. 

This would be the day where Taehyung discovered where you lived. 

——- 

When Taehyung arrived home that night, he researched the place you lived. The complex only offers 1–2-bedroom spaces. It was extremely cheap, obviously catering towards the young students in the area. 

Not gated. Always leasing. Every amenity was shared. The complex had a laundry room, a mailroom, and even study space catered towards everyone who lived in the complex. 

He sat in front of his computer, favoriting the tab for later. He made a note for himself to apply for the place. Hoping that he will get a unit close to yours. 

Taehyung didn’t see anything wrong with it. He just wanted to be closer to you. You didn’t have a car, you didn’t pay much attention to anything around you, and you got along very well. If anything, he would be doing you a favor. In his mind, at least. 

He would take care of you. He would. Taehyung cared for you.  

Taehyung dug in his back pocket and retrieved the SD card from his camera, uploading it to his computer. 

Dozens of pictures from the last few months of you plastered amongst his screens. It was lit of countless off-guard portraits of you. 

You studying. You at work. You at the bus stop. And now, you walking home to your apartment. 

He favorited that one. 

“Any plans this weekend?” You asked as you handed Taehyung his receipt. 

It’d been almost 4 months since Taehyung first arrived at the bakery. He came in asking for the usual coffee you made him the second day followed by a cheese croissant, which you were currently making for him. 

It was Friday. Taehyung dreaded Fridays. You didn’t work on weekends; that meant no time to speak. The only time he’d seen you during the weekends was when he sat outside your apartment in his parked car, or when he quietly followed you around town when you hung out with your friends. 

“No, taking it easy and resting from work. How about yourself?” 

You nodded as you sleeved the warm cup of coffee, handing it to him. “I actually have a date, some guy from my English class asked me out,” you mentioned easily. 

Taehyung’s heart felt like it skipped a beat. Although this expression didn’t falter, he felt himself tense up at the words. He was irritated beyond relief on the inside. “Oh, really? Tell me about him,” he peered with a feigned sense of eagerness, sipping away at his coffee. 

You leaned against the counter with a smirk. “His name is Gabe, senior, and business major. He wanted to take me to this museum or something, but we haven’t spoken much. Kinda just text every now and then,” you gossiped to the older man. 

Taehyung stored every word you said meticulously in his mind. He kept a grin on his lips, but in his mind, there was a harsh grimace as he thought about every option possible. He had to prevent this date from happening. 

“Well, I hope you enjoy your date. He’s a very lucky guy,” 

—- 

Not lucky enough. Once Taehyung arrived home, he immediately got to work, researching his victim. 

He was able to put pieces together from his collection of photos of you, and your Instagram which he stalked daily, to find the man who was taking you out. Or, attempted.  

There was no way that loser was going to get to you. It made no sense for a guy like that to be with someone as stunning and radiant as you. The guy didn’t look extraordinary. Average hair, average skin, average height. You didn’t deserve anything average. 

Taehyung saved the profile on his computer, selecting the ‘message’ option on Gabe’s account. Taehyung wasn’t one to make threats. He made promises. He didn’t have to strike fear into someone; he had to inform them of what lies ahead of them. 

This is exactly the initiative he took with Gabe. Taehyung messaged the man from a private account. The text read his address, his IP, and a photo of Taehyung’s gun. Clean of course. Followed by one more brutally crystal-clear text. 

He’d never used the gun. Never needed to. He was a man living in the city, it was only smart of him to keep one for protection. Or, for a moment like this. 

“Don’t talk to y/n ever again.” 

Simple. Blunt. To the point. 

After a few moments, the text was read. The messages were liked. 

“Woah, sorry dude I don’t want any issues… I’ll drop the date now…” 

His work was done. He leaned back in his seat, opening his folder once more, scrolling through. 

He clicked on the favorites tab, a collection that was growing bigger by the day. Today, he liked a new photo of you. It was you in the window of your apartment this morning, getting dressed for class. Only a bra on and a skirt.  

“Oh Y/n,” Taehyung huffed aloud to himself as he allowed his hand to roam to the bulge in his sweats. He palmed himself at the sight of the photo. “How foolish of you to get ready with the curtains open,” he cooed. 

He bit his lip, squeezing his cock. “A pretty girl like you doesn’t know how to care for herself properly. Need me in your life,”  

Taehyung often caught himself doing this. Jerking to your photos, talking to them like you were actually there. It was almost incredible how quickly he got himself off to this too. Once a day wasn’t enough. Some days he’d do it 4 times. 6 times. Until he couldn’t cum anymore. 

Tonight was one of those nights. 

Ropes of cum usually filled his screen by the end of the night, landing on your photos. Loud screams of your name falling from Taehyung’s tongue as well. 

Every day, he prayed to be able to do it in person. 

—- 

You sniffled, sitting at your bus stop waiting for the vehicle to come sweeping you away from your misery. 

Taehyung watched from afar. He knew why you were crying. Your date was mysteriously canceled, and you were looking forward to it. 

“Hey,” Taehyung called quietly, feigning a confused look at your sullen expression as he approached you. “Oh, what’s wrong? Why’re you crying?” 

You were fresh off work. It was Friday. You were expecting a date the next day, and it would never come. 

“H-hi,” you stammered sadly. “It’s nothing, it’s really stupid,” you shut down, eyes looking at the concrete ground beneath the bench you sat at. 

Taehyung pouted. It hurts to see you cry, genuinely. Him being the cause, he almost felt guilty. But how could he? If anything, he saved you from a boring weak man who couldn’t care for you. 

“Hey, you can talk to me,” he assured, sitting beside you on the col bench. His eyes locked on your face. 

“He canceled the date. And he blocked me on everything. I don’t know what I did. I must have made him uncomfortable during our conversation,” you explained, eyes welling with tears again. 

Taehyung gasped, his brows furrowing in his faux sympathy for you. “I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve that,” he comforted the best way he could. “What do you mean you ‘made him uncomfortable’? What did you say?” He curiously asked, his body faced completely to you. 

You shook your head rapidly. “I-it’s, I don’t know. I guess it was too soon, it was stupid and my fault to tell him. I understand why he ghosted me,”  

Now Taehyung was intrigued. New information about you that he didn’t know? How could you be so open to that guy, but not to him? Why are you hiding from him now? 

“Tell me, "He said strongly. Not loud, but gruff and serious. He didn’t like that you didn’t tell him everything. Let alone, you had the audacity to tell another man? That’s not fair. 

Your eyes widened, looking at him in shock by the sudden assertive behavior. You gave in.  

“I told him what I liked in the bedroom. He said he was down at first, but then later in the night I was blocked,” you shamefully admitted whilst another tear shed. 

Taehyung looked at you with deep confusion. Sure, Taehyung peered into your life as much as he could. One thing that bothered him was his lack of knowledge on your sex life. You never brought men home, and at night your curtains were usually shut. You lived on the higher floors of your complex; it was almost impossible to peek in on you as he’d liked.  

“If you don’t mind me asking, what did you tell him that you liked?” He questioned softly, analyzing your humiliated face. 

The bus was approaching; you took it as your opportunity to end the conversation. 

“I should really get going now I can’t hold you up about my drama Taehyung,” 

As you collected yourself, a firm grip was laid on your wrist.  

“I can take you home, it seems like you need a friend right now, you can talk to me,” he insisted with a friendly smile.  

You kept a frown before nodding your head, agreeing to his request. 

He smiled and awaited you to stand with him, leading you to his car across the street. For some reason, the sight seemed oddly familiar, but you ignored it. 

He opened the passenger side door for you, allowing you to enter the car and sit comfortably before he closed the door. 

He started the car after fastening his seatbelt, pulling out of the parallel space and heading towards the main street. 

“Uhm, Taehyung?” You questioned; his eyebrows raised in acknowledgment. “Don’t you need my address?” You questioned curiously, confused at his actions. 

Fuck, he almost forgot. His expression was blank; he coughed before pressing the GPS on his dashboard. “Right, sorry I just assumed you were gonna give me directions as I drove,” he faked as he opened the keyboard. “You can put your address in,” he ushered, waiting for you to do so. 

You nodded, typing in the words and clicking the ‘start’ icon, the GPS voice narrating the directions. 

The ride was silent for about 5 minutes. Not an uncomfortable silence, but an awkward one. 

“So, are you gonna tell me what you told him?” He peered, bringing up the situation again. “As a guy, I'll tell you honestly if it was something that would push us away, you know?” 

You side eyed him, still recovering from your flurry of emotions. Flurry of emotions. 

“Well, I told him about my preferences in the bedroom,” you lead quietly, eyes shameful as you averted your gaze from his. “I- I like to play the dominant role, I like certain things that I guess he wouldn’t,” you continued on. 

He nodded. His heart secretly halted at the confession. He wouldn’t have taken you for that type, you seemed sweet and innocent, incoherent to sex life. But to find out that you liked to be in control, exuded something in him. A new fire that he never thought would burn. 

“That shouldn’t have driven him away,” he comforted. “Any real guy shouldn’t have an issue with letting their girl take control. As long as my partner enjoys it, she can do whatever she wants with me,” he assured you. 

Your ears perked and your eyes softened. “You’re being serious?” you questioned unsurely. He nodded, a small tug of a smile on his face. 

“Thank you,” 

“Of course, sweetheart,” 

—- 

“Would you like to come inside? I can make you dinner to repay you,” you asked as you pulled into your complex, parking at an empty spot in front of your building. 

Taehyung smirked. “If you’re offering, then sure, but you don’t have to repay me,” he assured, taking off his seatbelt as he shut the engine off. 

Exiting his car, you took the lead of walking towards your apartment, your keys jingling in your hand as you lead him upstairs to the unit. He viewed the surroundings, looking for cameras, nosy neighbors, bright lights, just in case. Anything that would help him furthermore with always keeping his eyes on you. 

You opened the door, “Ta-da!” You cheered, slipping off your shoes at the door as you entered the cozy space. 

It was surprisingly heavily decorated from what he usually seen. He had faint photos of your bright lights and some portraits among your wall, but not anything as high detail or descriptive as being inside. 

He slipped his off as well, keeping them by the door as he entered, eyes intently focused on every aspect of the apartment. Warm walls, pink throw pillows, pictures of your family, thick curtains, plants, everything. He took it all in. He could get very used to being here. 

“It’s so nice here,” he complimented. “Decorated everything yourself?” He questioned as he followed you into the kitchen. 

“Yeah, took forever, I've been living here since last year so,” you answered, pointing to your stool at the kitchen island. “Have a seat, I'll start making dinner,” you instructed. 

Opening your fridge, you took out some beef cubes, green onions, and eggs laying them amongst the counter. You headed towards your pantry and grabbed 2 packs of ramen. 

Taehyung watched you with a gentle smile, the way you flowed freely amongst your kitchen. You turn on your stove and wait for the pot of water to boil as you season the meat. The domestic sight made his heart flutter; it seemed as if all his fantasies for the past few months were slowly becoming real. His doubts of you never becoming his washed away day by day.  

“Oh shoot, my phone is dead,” your cursed, tapping the screen of your smart device repeatedly just to be met with a black cold screen. “Let me go put this on the charger really quickly,” you announced, walking to your bedroom. 

Taehyung nodded, acknowledging your action. He kept his eyes locked on his cellphone until he heard your bedroom door open and shut. Quickly, he rummaged in his pants pocket and pulled out his digital camera. Turning it on. 

He snapped a few photos. The photos of you on your wall. A photo of the kitchen, zooming in on the ramen ingredients. And a few more photos regarding the layout of the apartment, the windows primarily. For later usage. 

He heard your bedroom door open once more. He turned off the camera and shoved it back in his pocket before holding his cellphone again, smiling at you as you walked back into his sight. 

“I hope you like your ramen a bit spicy, I only siracha flavor,” you alerted, walking to the pot of boiling water and opening the packaged noodles. 

He placed his phone down to acknowledge you. His eyes timidly met yours as he quietly fidgeted with his hands. “I can handle it; I should be thankful that you’re cooking anything for me. It’s very sweet of you,” he said bashfully.  

You looked up to him with a soft grin. “You were kind enough to listen to my rants and take me home today, please allow me to repay you” you asserted. 

Once you began to assemble the bowls, Taehyung felt an urge of courage suddenly striking his core. He had been thinking about your confession earlier; he didn’t receive as many details as he would’ve liked regarding your bedroom fantasies. It was his right to know what you wanted. You pour yourself out to him any other time; why should now be any more different? He helped you avoid a date with a guy who wasn’t willing to fight for you the same way Taehyung did. He was the one who valued your ideologies, your wants, your needs, your wellbeing. He deserved to know.  

“Hey y/n, I have a question, if that’s okay...” he started off, his gaze low.  

You hummed, “mhm?” Waiting for him to finish while you continued your task. 

He paused briefly. “So, what exactly do you mean by being in control during bed?” He nervously spat out. 

Your cheerful expression fell into an incomprehensible one.  

You grabbed the two bowls of ramen and placed one in front of him, before taking your seat next to his. 

He sat up immediately. He became hyperaware as you were next to him, your eyes blank before you grabbed your chopsticks and picked at the dinner. 

“The dinner looks nice, thank you,” He bowed his head, grabbing his own utensils as he dug in. 

You nodded softly. Still quiet. 

“I don't know. I guess I just like to be the one who controls the pace of sex. I like to give commands, ask the questions, tie men down, things like that” you admitted nervously. Taehyung listened, his face unwavering as you explained. 

“I think sex is very vital to a relationship, and submission shows how much you trust your partner. It can be a sign of devotion and acceptance of the relationship you know? It’s not about just possessiveness, but it’s real love. Plus it’s just really sexy,” 

You added, your tone faltering at the last sentence. 

But Taehyung heard everything loud and clear. His brain decoding ever word and storing it like a smart computer. 

“I understand. I think guys should be most willing to do that with their partners. I personally wouldn’t mind having a woman tie me up and take over you know,” he assured your words as confidently as his coy behavior would allow. 

He blissfully enjoyed the dish you prepared while you sat in your thoughts.  

For some reason, the pattering of your heartbeat slowed and a sense of calm rushed over you from his affirmation. You enjoyed Taehyung’s company, but you never expected much from him other than quick conversations and laughs. Never in a million years did you expect to express your deepest desires to him. Let alone, for him to understand them and enjoy them for himself. 

You didn’t continue the conversation after that. You both ate in a comfortable silence. 

—- 

“Thank you for the dinner y/n,” Taehyung said as he took his empty bowl and yours to the sink. “I’ll wash the dishes for you,” he offered, grabbing a sponge and turning on the faucet. 

You shook your hands. “Oh Tae, that’s not necessary really,” 

Tae. The nickname was unfamiliar coming from your mouth. Not many people referred to him as Tae. Not even his own friends and family, maybe some coworkers but only when they’re passive aggressively speaking to him. He liked it coming from you. It was blissful. 

He shook off your protests and allowed himself to continue. He rinsed away the broth and debris before placing it on your drying rack. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t repay you?” He questioned rhetorically, coming back to your side. 

You froze with a grin. “What kind of friends do you have that do your dishes for you?” you chuckled teasingly, standing up from your seat. 

Taehyung’s face fell slightly at your words. “Not many, I actually don’t have friends who would even hang out with me really. Let alone invite me over and cook for me,” he admitted insecurely to you.  

You frowned at his admission. “I’m sorry, Tae. You know you can always call me if you wanna hang out and such, I’d love being your friend,” you wholeheartedly told him. Your arms extend and wrap around his neck for a quick hug. 

He froze.  

He was taken aback but didn’t miss the opportunity to hug you back. His arms wrapped gently around your waist.  

His breath steadied, taking in your scent. The moment was more intimate than he thought; the rapid pace of his heart racing brought him down from the high. You pulled away softly, eyes looking up to his almost dazed expression. 

“Are you okay, Tae?” 

“Sorry, it’s just, been a while since I’ve hugged a girl,” 

Shit. Why did he say that? 

Your eyes widened in shock. “Really? Like how long?” you peered, head cocking in confusion. 

“I-I,” he stammered reluctantly. “I couldn’t tell you honestly. It’s been years,” he continued shamefully. 

You didn’t laugh, scoff, snicker. You nodded, understandingly. “I haven’t really hugged or talked to any guys in a minute either. It’s why I was so happy to finally have a date, get a kiss out of someone for once,” you said as you related to his hardships. It wasn’t anything you were necessarily embarrassed of, but it wasn’t your favorite fact about yourself. 

Taehyung’s eyebrows rose. “I could kiss you,” he suggested before catching himself. His impulsive thoughts coming to light too quickly. 

You paused. 

You stared at him, your expression blank. God, he hated that. When he didn’t know about you. How you felt. What you were thinking. He hated every fucking minute of it. 

“Sorry,” he ushered, pulling away from your hug. “I should get going, shouldn’t I?”  

Taehyung grabbed his phone and his blazer, heading towards your front door vigorously out of humiliation. Just as he was about to slip on his shoes… 

“You can kiss me, Tae,” you simply allowed. Your voice is quiet, just above a whisper. You still stood in the same spot. With your island chairs. Facing his frantic body in vast parallel to your steady one. 

He froze in his tracks, eyes of hope looking into your certain ones. He took a few strides against the wood flooring. Meeting your smaller frame swiftly. 

Your head tilted up to his, your eyes low yet sure as you scanned his face. 

“Are you sure?” He questioned stiffly. 

You nodded rapidly.  

Taehyung wasted not a second more. His lips connected with yours in an instant; the kiss was feather-light but warm.  

You didn’t know what you were expecting. Contrary to his timid demeanor and soft-spoken voice, his kiss was confident yet desperate. His hands held your waist flush against his chest, and his breath was deep and rugged between the kisses. 

Your hands cupped his cheek, not allowing him to dare to pull away. Not that he ever wanted to. 

Once you both finally stopped, your breaths were caught in deep huffs, and your eyes were sewn onto one another. You could not resist the smile that crept on your face. 

Taehyung’s cheeks were reddened from the intense heat of the passionate kiss. He wanted to keep his eyes on yours, but the creeping sensation of bashfulness wouldn’t allow for it. His eyes scanned everywhere on your face but into your orbs. 

“Look at me,” you spoke sternly. His eyes flicked onto yours immediately. It was a command, not an ask. He obeyed. 

Your smile grew. “Good,” you cooed, cupping his cheek. “You listen really well, don’t you?” you questioned to the older man; he nodded slowly into the palm of your hand. 

“Aww, can’t use your words huh?” you asked authoritatively, already knowing the clear answer to your question. 

His lips tugged a small pout. “I-I can use them,” he spat out unconvincingly.  

“No, you can’t. Hardly can even look at me half the time we talk without getting nervous, I'm surprised you even kissed me,” you told, recollecting all the times over the past few months where you’ve two interacted. 

You’d talk; he’d listen. Not without toying with hands, or averting his gaze, or stammering hard as he fumbled out the words he needed to say. You’d notice it of course; his actions were subtle, but you weren’tstupid. You made him nervous, weak, and shy. 

You always thought it was adorable how he reacted to you. He was also very handsome as well, so it didn’t take long for you to be interested in him. He was older, had nice dark hair, a deep yet sweet voice, and valued your work ethic. 

It was natural for you to take interest in him, and luckily for you his feelings were reciprocated. 

If only you knew the exact feelings he had for you. 

Your feelings were vastly contrasted to his. You liked him. He loved you. You were interested in him, and he was obsessed with you. 

“I can’t. You’re right,” he pathetically admitted, his voice softening and pitching just above a whisper. 

You held back a small chuckle. 

“Do you like me, Tae?” You asked, opposite hand meeting with his chest, placing it over the space where his heart was, feeling each rhythmic beat pound against your palm. 

Something about the action was beyond explaining in words for Taehyung. You were so close; the moment was intimate, not only sexual but endearing.  

Your fingertips against his heart, the tone of your voice condensing yet somewhat nurturing, and the intense eye contact caused his blood to burn hot.  

He felt his pants get tighter and the blood flow rush to his manhood at each giving moment. 

He bit his lip, almost choking on the word vomit that he threatened to spew. 

“I do, I'm sorry if it’s weird. I know we barely speak but I love coming to the café and seeing you and- “ 

“Shhh…” you cooed, tapping his cheek lightly. 

His eyes widened, confusedly at your voice. 

“I know Tae, I know,” you whispered condescendingly as you strummed his cheek. “You were too shy because you thought I wouldn’t feel the same?” You asked him, receiving a rapid head nod as an answer. 

“Is that why you gave me so much reassurance when I told you my secret?” You questioned again. 

It took him a moment to remember what you were referring to. But how could he forget? The confession of your sexual desires to him. How much the two of you relate to the roles, how he told you that your fantasies turned him on as well. 

“Yes but, also because I genuinely like it too…you being in control that is,” he admitted, his eyes squeezing shut as his cock twitched in his tight dress pants. 

Taehyung dreamed about this moment constantly. His occurring wet dreams of you consisted of you on top of him, talking to him filthily about the lewd things you wanted to do to him. He found himself waking up in a pool of sweat with a raging boner every morning prior to work because of it. 

You hummed, understanding his thought process. Your eyes shamelessly looked down at his pants. His dick threatening to bust out of the seams. You smirked. 

“Follow me, darling,” you instructed, hands leaving his body as you walked to your bedroom. 

Taehyung’s eyes resembled a deer in headlights. Your room. He was going to see your room.  

The man shamelessly jogged after you, entering the space beyond the wood door and took everything in. 

—- 

Your room was surprisingly nothing like he expected it to be. It was filled with a flurry of all your niches. 

Posters of your favorite band, plushies of your favorite cartoon, your favorite color splattered in traces of décor and accessories.  

He viewed everything he could, as if he were writing down every item you had in a blank notepad in his brain. He noted your favorite lip gloss, or what he assumed to be so as it was sat loosely on your desk. As well as the brand of highlighters you used for school. He remembered that from the couple of times he watched you at the library. 

The brand of hair clips you used, the ones you tied your hair with at work? Everywhere. He already knew which ones you would like, but he underestimated how many were in your collection. 

Your room was a shrine of you. Everything you liked, everything about you, everything that reminded him of you. He felt like an art freak in a museum. Enamored by the amazing work that bodied his favorite subject. You. 

“It’s cute here,” he complimented as his eyes finally found yours again. 

You chuckled, “thank you, Tae,” you sat on the edge of your bed. “It’s even cuter when you’re here,” you added, crossing your legs while you sat. 

“I’m still in my outside clothes. I hate lying in bed with dirty clothes on. But I'm so tired from work, I can hardly move and take them off,” you complained, pouting at the inconvenience you feigned. 

Taehyung looked at you, his expression blank and almost dumb. His boner still prevalent and face redder than a tomato as he stared, confused on what even to do. 

“I can uhm. Help you out of clothes,” he offered quietly, stepping closer to you. 

You giggled again. “That’s so sweet of you, you should,” you replied. Your voice still sweet and firm, it was amazing how well you exuded your dominance to a man like him. Who knew a hard-working corporate man, had a thing for a young sweet girl like you? 

Taehyung nodded, more so to himself attempting to give himself some confidence before proceeding. 

His body made his way to yours, walking across the room to your bed and stopping once he was in front of you. His Adam's apple bobbed as he took a deep gulp, eyes meeting your top. 

Your smirk never faltered, waiting for him to finally make a move. 

You lifted your arms up, waiting for the man to take off your long sleeve work shirt.  

Taehyung gulped. Hands carefully, taking the bottom of your shirt and lifting it off your soft skin. Exposing your almost bare half to him, leaving you in your black bra. 

He took the fabric and folded it lazily before placing it on your desk. 

“Good job!” You applauded him, quietly clapping your hands for him. “Can you unhook my bra for me now please?” 

His breath hitched as he nodded profusely. His large hands wrapped around your back, reaching for the clasp and unhooking your bra as your breasts spilled. His eyes sewn towards the plush skin. Your nipples perked and taut. 

You grinned, allowing him to stare for a bit longer before you became overwhelmed with the ache in your panties. You were sopping wet already and needed relief. “Okay, time for my pants now. Get down for me,” you pointed to the ground expecting his obedience while you uncrossed your legs. 

The man got to his knees against your fur carpet. His hands reluctantly reached to touch the button of your jeans, unclasping the material and pulling the denim hem down achingly slow against your plush thighs. 

You watched with your bottom lip caught between your teeth and eyes drooping in a daze. He moved carefully, hands feeling feather light at the movement. Once your jeans were fully off, Taehyung allied the fabric to pool on the carpet. His eyes glued to the sight of your bare legs and black panties caught between your legs. 

You chuckled under your breath. “What about my panties?” You questioned. 

He froze in place. He imagined how beautiful you would complete bare before him multiple times. Every time he had the opportunity to peer into your window, he hoped to catch slivers of your naked skin, but was never blessed with the opportunity to see anything past you in a bra. He believed he was unbelievably lucky to be around you as much as he is, let alone for you to be into him. 

But the true blessing coming to light, seeing you willingly naked all for him. 

His hands grazed your hips. Thumb and index finger clasping to the cotton hem of your panties. He struggled to remove the fabric swiftly, but his eyes immediately caught the shine and moisture between your legs. You were soaked. Sticky slick spilling from your cunt. 

You hummed at the release, fully exposed to the man in front of you. “Good job, thank you so much, Tae. I can finally be comfortable,” you sighed, leaning back on your elbows. “My feet are really killing me from work,” you feigned.  

Taehyung placed the fabric of your panties adjacent to your jeans on the ground. He looked up to read your expression. Your pout was adorable, but he knew it was anything but innocent. He looked down at your feet. Your perfectly polished toes made his mouth water. 

“I can massage them,” he offered sincerely. You smiled, patting his head and running your fingers through his thick locks. “How sweet of you, thanks, Tae,” you cheered, sticking your foot towards him. 

He nodded, taking your soft foot between his hands, pressing his thumbs against the heel. He massaged lightly, rubbing gracefully on the sole. You blissfully moaned beneath your breath at the feeling.  

Taehyung watched you intently, taking in how every touch of his hand caused you to react. His eyes grazed down to your toes again; his impulsivity running ramped as he took your foot, placing your toes against his tongue. 

Your eyes squeezed at pleasure. The warm muscle sloppily licks between the sensitive nerves on your foot causing you to moan loudly. The sound echoes from your bedroom walls. Taehyung took your big toe, encapsulating the digit completely and sucking it tastefully. Humming around it, the vibrations striking though your toes and straight to your clit. 

“G-good job, fuck feels so good,” you moaned to the older man, praising him for his actions. Your fingers tighten the grip on his hair, holding him tightly amongst your sensitive feet.  

Taehyung used your praises as motivation to continue, licking long stripes against your soles. Pressing sloppy open kisses against them. His sick fantasies in mind run across his mind. He recalls how vividly he imagined this moment would be.  

He had a fetish for you. Everything is revolving you and your body. He thought of putting his tongue anywhere it could be. His lips kiss every inch of your body. His dick rutting into every hole you possessed.  

He worshipped your feet, completely whipped at the sight of you falling apart from the light touches. Your pussy dripping, staining your sheets below you. 

“Tae,” you called with a breathless whimper. “That’s enough, touch me up here now,” you instructed, looking down hazily at him. His lips glistening from his own saliva pooling from his mouth. 

His mouth pulls away from your sole as he pouted. He didn’t want to stop, but he was eager to get closer to you. He hoped to finally have you cum for him. 

“Yes Miss,” he obeyed, placing your feet down as he came closer to your dripping heat. His hands rest firmly on your soft thighs, spreading you wider for him. Your perfect pink clit shining for him like a pretty pearl. 

You bit your lip, stroking his flushed cheek with your thumb. “Gonna be a good boy and eat me out?” You questioned, knowing the answer already. He shyly nodded, head eagerly diving into your legs before you caught him roughly by his hair, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Words. Are you gonna be a good boy?” you sternly repeated. 

Taehyung’s head rapidly nodded, words choking out embarrassingly. “Yes, yes, I will Miss. I’ve wanted to do this for a while, make you feel good ma’am,” he stammered, hissing at the pain of your fingers tightly in his hair. 

You hummed approvingly, releasing the tight grip. Taehyung sighed in relief as he dug into your pussy. His tongue twirling in circles around your cunt. His hot breath against your hole and the tip of his nose grinding against your clit. 

You wanted to scream from the intensity. He ate you like you were his first meal in ages. It was sloppy, hungry, and forceful. His desperate whines against your cunt made your abdomen ache from pleasure. His eyes squeezed shut as he took in every moment shared. 

“Shit! Just like that baby boy,” you cooed. The praises falling naturally from you. You were enjoying every single minute of it, his tongue was aggressive and needy against your clit. You’ve never had someone take as much pride into making you feel this good before. 

Something you could easily get used to. 

Your thighs threatened to shake from the blissful pleasure. You didn’t take your eyes off the handsome man devouring you. He looked as if he were ready to cum himself. Flushed skin, a light layer of sweat, and deep sweet moans spilling from his mouth. 

His two long and thick fingers entered your hole, swirling around the velvety walls and fucking you at a harsh pace. His fingers causing squelching noises between you. 

“So-so sweet miss,” he whimpered against your puffy lips. “like candy, just like I imagined,” 

Strings of slickness and spit filled your thighs and his mouth. He sucked harshly at your swollen clit, you near your release. 

“Tae, fuck. Who taught you to do that?” you asked rhetorically in shock from the skillful tongue. Sure, he was older, and you assumed he had much experience. But you were far from correct. 

You didn’t know how much research Taehyung put into learning how to properly give oral sex, just in case he got the chance to perform it on you.  

Luckily those countless hours of porn seemed to be paying off well for him. 

Your eyes fluttered as your back arched, ready to give yourself to him completely. “Wanna cum! Gonna be good and take it, right? Good boy,” you warned, your thighs impulsively squeezing around his face as you grind against his face. 

Taehyung’s pace became relentless. His tongue flicks over your lower lips rapidly, eagerly pulling you to your climax.  

With a few more loud screams, you achieved it. Your release painting his face like a canvas. His lips swollen and shiny as he met your eyes. “Did that feel good Miss?” He questioned bashful. 

You softly chuckled and pulled his chin to gently peck your lips, tasting yourself. “Did such an amazing job baby boy,” you praised. Your eyes fell to his crotch, the evident strain of his bulge as clear as day. “Want me to take care of that?” You questioned, pointing at the sight. 

He gulped, nodding his head vigorously. “Please help, been dreaming of it,” he plead honestly to you. 

You didn’t read too much into his words, but you smiled the same sweet one you always did. “Let me ride you then,” it wasn’t a suggestion; it was an order. And order that he was always more than willing to follow. 

In his fantasies, they always included you on top of him. Bouncing your perfect tits in front of him while you took every inch of his cock while on top of him. His dick could hit you at the perfect angle, making you dumb and compliant for his touch. 

Taehyung moved like lightning. To his feet and immediately tugged his pants and boxers off swiftly. 

You moved your body fully on the bed, waiting for him to prepare. Your eyes caught the silver device poking from his back pocket. “Is that your digi-cam?” You questioned calmly. He stopped in his tracks, seeing the silver lens peaking. 

He’d always been open about his love of photography to you; it was no surprise to you at all that he had it. “Yeah, just take it with me everywhere. Never know what you’re gonna see,” he claimed. His excuse convincing enough for you as you nodded your head with an understanding hum. 

“One day you’re gonna show me your pictures, right?” you asked intrigued with his hobby. 

He chuckled nervously, “yeah, you’ll be the first one to see,” he assured. 

Taehyung’s cock freely sprung into the air, angry with a leaking red tip and veins bulging from the member. 

You pat the open space on your mattress, signaling him to lie down for you. 

Taehyung reluctantly took his place, back against your plush mattress. You crawled on top of his warm body, your pussy against his bulging cock teasingly as you sat on him. 

Your lips connected once more in a deep passionate exchange. Taehyung loved kissing you. It was better than he had imagined; your lips were like sugary candy. They were soft, your lip gloss just a bit sticky. He loved it.  

His large hands gripped tightly on your waist as he held your naked lower half against him. His cock throbbing from the contact. You two were so close, yet not close enough. He yearned to finally be inside you, your beautiful wet canal taking him in like you were meant to do. 

You pulled away from the heated kiss breathlessly, sitting up and taking his hard cock in your hands, pumping the large member. 

“Ready for me to ride you baby?” You asked just above a whisper. 

“Please! Need you so bad,” he begged quietly. 

You condescendingly cooed, a feigned pout on your lips. “Aww, no that doesn’t sound very convincing babe. Think you can beg better than that,” 

“Fuck y/n, just- fuck please. Please fuck me, I always think about it. Always imagine you on my dick, I always do. Think about you every day…. Wanna fuck toy every minute-“he rambled frantically, his sentences ending with grunts as your hand squeezed his member tightly. 

“Good boy, since you asked so nicely,” 

You finally slid onto his cock in one fluid motion. His thick member gave you a good firm stretch, your eyes fluttering as you released a high-pitched moan. 

Taehyung’s moan was loud and guttural; his hands harshly gripped your hips, holding you as you took him in. 

You were wet. So wet. Tight like a glove around Taehyung, his body reacted immediately. 

Your movements were slow at first, getting used to his fat cock took a moment, but the way his eyes fluttered like he was in heaven made you only want to fuck him faster. Harder. 

He was a whiny, desperate mess inside of you. “So beautiful on top,” he cooed. His lips caught between his teeth as he chewed down holding back a moan. 

You pouted, “lemme hear baby, don’t you feel good?” You said. Your hips pick up the pace. The wet slapping skin fills your bedroom. The tension is thick and hot. 

You grind against his member with a steady rhythm earning his moan, beautifully hitting your ear. He was a mess. Whimpers incoherent and eyes squeezed shut, as he could barely look at you due to the immense pleasure you caused him. 

The sex was so good to the point where he could almost cry. Months he waited. Countless nights of jerking off to his secret shrine of you. Worth it. 

“You’re the best mommy. Best pussy ever- gonna make me cum,” he whimpered helplessly to you. 

His words are melodic to your ears. A new profound energy overcame you. You were so turned on from his words, his voice, his cock. It was the best feeling you’d had in a while.  

You leaned down, wrapping your arms around his neck, hips snapping against his cock intensely. Your mouth littered open mouth kisses against his jaw and neck, humming with each one. 

Taehyung’s legs shook and abdomen convulsed as his high came over him.  

You looked and seen a few stray tears cascade over the poor boy's face. 

“Aww, baby. Felt so good huh? Don’t worry, I'm cumming too for your love,” you comforted, kissing away the hot kisses of his overwhelmed frame. 

Your climax harsh and jagged like his. You cursed his name as you felt apart against his toned body, his hands holding you close as you came.  

A few moments of silence filled the air. You two laid comfortably against another, taking in each other'ss warm embrace. No words, no questions, no worries. Just the feeling and comfort of one another. 

Taehyung held you tightly, strumming your hair softly as your breathing slowed down. His cock still inside you, softening but he didn’t dare pull away. Not at this moment. 

—- 

Taehyung woke up bright and early the next morning. 5:48 am to be exact. The sun barely rose, but it was peeking through your blinds. 

You weren’t on top of him anymore. You were adjacent, your back facing him as you were caught in a deep sleep. 

He watched you momentarily. You looked peaceful and angelic. The way the sun kissed your skin was like a mural. Like a muse to the artists of the world. 

Taehyung quietly slipped out of your bed, making sure to make not even the quietest noises to disrupt you from your sleep. Once on your carpet, he leaned down to his pants and dug for his digital camera. His hands turned on the small battery powered device and loaded the screen. 

He looked at you deeply just once more before holding the camera to his eyes, snapping a few photos of you asleep. Naked. 

He then grabbed your soiled panties from the floor in his hand, taking detailed up-close photos of the fabric. 

He then snapped multiple photos of your room. Your desk. Pillows. Posters. Everything. 

He sat his camera down on the floor once more, grabbing his boxers and slipping them on, along with his dress pants. Shoving his camera in his pocket once more. 

He rolled up the fabric of your panties, and slipped it into the opposite pocket. 

Taehyung took a deep breath, leaning on the bed and tapping your shoulder slightly. 

“Hm?” you responded groggily, still half asleep, not even turning to meet his body. 

“I have to go now y/n, I'll see you later, okay?” He calmly alerted you. 

“Mhm,” you hummed, hardly even processing his words in your fatigued state. 

Taehyung sighed at himself. He quietly exited your bedroom, closing your door. He headed to the front door, slipping on his shoes and exiting through the front door of your apartment, making sure to lock it on the way out. 

He stood outside the door momentarily. He looked around the complex. It was quiet, even though it was only dawn. It was peaceful, perfectly suited for you. Your side of the complex seemed to be scarcely populated. 

His eyes trailed to the unit right next to yours. He took a step over to the window. Taehyung’s curiosity got the best of him; his eyes pressed against the glass and searched inside the unit. Empty. Dark. No furniture, no lamps, nothing. 

He looked at the number of the door, making a mental note before finally heading to his car. 

—- 

“Apartment 613 is available for lease sir, that is correct,” the apartment manager spoke on the phone to Taehyung. 

“Great, my application has already been approved. I was wondering when my move in date would be?” he asked abruptly to the woman over the phone. 

“Well, we can schedule you an apartment tour for tomorrow but- “ 

“No tour. I want to move in. When can I move in?” he interrupted bluntly, causing the woman to be taken aback from the conversation. 

The agent cleared her throat before answering. “How does the 21st  look?” She asked carefully. 

The 21st. Less than a month. 

“Perfect, the 21st,” Taehyung answered to the woman. 

She gave a nervous smile against the phone. “The 21st it is Mr. Kim, thank you for leading with us,” 

The line cuts. Taehyung couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face. Ever since that night, he knew he had to make his move to keep you in sight. Asking to be your boyfriend and wait for when you would allow him to move in would simply be too long to wait for him. He knew if he wanted to change, he would have to do it himself. 

Being your next-door neighbor was way more rational to him. He’d know when you’d get home, who you’d bring home, observe you closer. The only thing repeating you would just be a wall. 

He’d wonder how you would react. 

He could play it off as a coincidence. He didn’t know the apartment they would lease him would coincidentally be the one directly next to yours. 

Why did he choose your complex? For the rent, the amenities, the close proximity to his job. It seemed believable enough. 

Taehyung didn’t have much to move to the new place either. Outside of his clothes, utensils, and computer, it wouldn’t be much of a hassle at all.  

His phone buzzed, and a text from you popped up.  

You: hi, idk if this is weird but I really enjoyed what we did the other night. 

You: was wondering if u maybe wanted to keep it going? Something just casual, yk? 

Casual? Taehyung never did anything casual. He never did anything. If you enjoyed it so much, why would you only keep it as something brief? Didn’t it mean something more to you? 

To him it was everything. The ultimate act of intimacy. It was love. Why didn’t you love him? 

No, you do. You said it right? You were interested in him. You liked him. You told him you did. You love him, you just don’t realize it yet. That’s okay. He’ll help you. 

Him: casual is fine :) whenever ur up for it, we can. 

Smooth Taehyung. 

Despite it being the total opposite of what he wanted, Taehyung knew better than to rush this with you. The last thing he wanted was to push you away. He could never do that. He’d gotten you closer than he planned to within the last few months, and he’d be damned to let you go now. 

You: cool. Was wondering if you were free tmrw night? A movie n’ chill? 

Him: sounds great. See u tmrw :) 

—- 

And so it began.  

That following month, your friends with benefits situation with Taehyung went extremely well. 

He was more than amazing during sex, and he loved to spoil you with dinner and movie dates in between your rendezvous.  

He still visited you at the café during the week, not much changing other than a bit of flirty exchange every now and then. But he was the same Taehyung to you. The kind shy man who knew how to please your body beyond relief. 

There were a few odd things that took place during that month with you and Taehyung. At least once a week, he brings you flowers. You assured him that you didn’t need them, (nor really wanted them so soon), but he made it a mission to have them delivered to your doorstep. 

The thing that made it odder? They were your favorite flowers. You never told Taehyung your favorite flowers. 

“Oh wow, Taehyung you know you didn’t have to!” you said as you grasped the 5th bouquet he’d given you. 

“But you deserve them, I don’t want you to think that just because we’re causal that I can’t be chivalrous,” he protested. 

You nodded slowly. Accepting your fate. “Thank you,” you quietly said, holding onto the obnoxiously bright bouquet, bringing them inside. 

Another incident that often occurred during your rendezvous was the fact that your panties always went missing. But not necessarily the pair you wore right before sex. Pairs that you swear you tossed in your dirty laundry hamper earlier in the week. 

While doing your laundry downstairs in the laundromat, it seemed like the pink pair you worse Tuesday miraculously disappeared. You were getting annoyed; you couldn’t really afford to go panty shopping every week with your barista salary. 

Taehyung also got clingier, naturally. But his few texts a week turned quickly into rapid spams a day. 

Him: I hope u do well on ur exam today!! 

Him: I went to the vending machine at work and seen ur favorite candy. Dropping it off at your place soon. 

Him: The flower shop ran out of ur favs, so I grabbed some pink peonies today, hope that’s okay. 

Him: Am I seeing u tonight? 

Him: y/n? did u see my text yesterday?? 

To anyone else, this would be a dream. A guy being so caring and considerate like this would be heavenly. But to you, it’s a little weird. 

You liked Taehyung yes, but you didn’t want anything serious so soon. You’d only met him a couple of months prior, and you began to get to know each other only a few weeks ago. You wanted to be casual. He agreed to be casual. 

It was far from it. 

Taehyung was beginning to grow impatient as the countdown for his move in day came quicker and quicker. 

After your fuck sessions, he would bring home more evidence of you to his apartment while leaving traces of him in yours. 

The flowers filling your place were symbols of his love for you. At least, that’s how he seen it. 

How did he know they were favorites? Maybe he opened your phone one night after sex and scrolled through messages of your ex-flings while simultaneously deleting and blocking their contacts. 

The panties you complained were missing?  

He told you that maybe some creep in your complex was raiding your hampers when you left your clothes to wash in the laundromat downstairs. 

“Ew, that’s gross who would do such a thing?” you grimaced as he chuckled. 

“It happened to my old friend at her place. Sometimes homeless people just grab clothes and take it for themselves from public places like that,” he explained as he drank the coffee you fixed for him. 

“Yeah, but it’s only my panties going missing, Tae,” you explained, your voice in a timid whisper. 

He chuckled. “Maybe they have a thing?” He joked, earning another grimace from you. 

But of course, this wasn’t the case. 

Taehyung keeps your panties scattered across his mattress, sleeping beside them like they were extra pillows or his favorite plushies. 

Only your soiled ones, of course. The ones he secretly grabbed from your hamper while you showered or cooked in the other spaces of your home. 

The days where he didn’t see you, he used them as his personal cum sock. His sick urges getting the best of him every time as he jerked himself with the damp fabrics. Moaning your name lewdly as his imagination ran with the filthiest desires for you. 

—- 

A month passed. 

Taehyung’s and you decided to pick up the pace a bit with your relationship. You officially went on dates, but to your eyes were nowhere close to officially being a couple. You were exploring the connection you two had. 

You enjoyed the flowers more now. The late-night calls, and the dinners picked up. A few times a week you two would go out, and you enjoyed it. 

The school day had just ended for you. It was a slow day, just a few classes and a study session but nothing out of the ordinary for you. 

You finally returned home, walking up the stairs to your unit, keys in hand when your attention was caught by the door next to yours wide open with movers coming in. 

You stopped in your tracks and peered nosily in the open space, trying to get a glimpse of your new neighbor. “Hm,” you hummed curiously, not making out any signs of them. 

You hoped they weren’t like the last ones. Loud and obnoxious at any given moment. Maybe they went to your school? You hoped they were nice.  

You unlocked your door and stepped inside your space, making yourself comfortable as you set your school supplies down and headed to the kitchen. 

The kind spirit inside of you decided you would make them a welcome treat, you luckily had some brownie mix and eggs in your fridge, so you whisked the ingredients together and set them to bake for the next hour. 

Once the movers stopped for the day, you took the tray of brownies and placed the squares in a large Tupperware container before heading next door. 

You knocked on the door three times, watching the warm light flicker through the window as the sound of footsteps led to the door. 

Once the door opened, your eyes widened in shock at what stood behind the threshold.  

You almost drop the container. 

“Surprise!” Taehyung cheered, arms wrapping gently around your frozen frame. 

“Y-you’re my neighbor?” you sputtered in a gasp. 

He pulled back to read your face. 

“Yeah, I’ve been apartment shopping for the last few months, and I coincidentally signed up for this place a few months ago. Crazy, I didn’t expect a unit so close to you,” he explained like it was something so simple. As if it were just a crazy coincidence. 

You were stunned but somehow managed to smile his explanation.  

It was just a coincidence. You told yourself. 

“What a surprise,” you said. A nervous grin crept on your face. 

He nodded, stepping back behind the threshold. “Please, come in,” he ushered you inside. 

His apartment layout was similar to yours. 

Kitchen. Living room. One bedroom. Bathroom inside. 

Empty but a couch, a couple of boxes, and a lamp. 

“You packed light,” you commented, setting the brownies on the kitchen island. 

“Yeah, I don’t have much. Minimalist,’’ he replied with a light chuckle, his body walking towards a box on the floor as he sat down and began to unbox it.  

“So, you weren’t gonna tell me you were moving here?” You began, sitting adjacent to him on the wooden floors. 

He merely shrugged. “Just didn’t think it was of much importance you know?” He answered as he pulled out the contents of the box. Pots, pans, and kitchen towels. 

Your brows are furrowed. “But- we’ve been talking for the last month, I just thought it would’ve been important to know,” you protested, your tone quiet but your tone the complete opposite of calm. Shaky. 

His eyes met yours confusedly. “You said we were casual, I didn't think casual meant tell you I was moving,” he answered honestly. Too honest. He rarely talked about himself to you, for good reason. 

This, being the prime example. 

“Taehyung, no,” your voice rose. “No, you knew I lived here for the past month and when I invited you to my place, you never once mentioned you moving here let alone being my next-door fucking neighbor! This is weird!” you snapped, voice raising to a scream. A scream he never heard. 

You were scared of him. His worst possible fear is coming to light. 

His head lowered; he froze in his tracks. 

His eyes welled as he attempted to hide his face from you. 

“I didn't know, we were gonna be neighbors I swear- I signed the lease before knowing you... I didn’t-” he choked. 

His emotions are real, but his words are far from the truth.  

Your eyes met his sullen frame. Guilt crept as you scooted closer to him.  

“Fuck, Tae,” you cursed apologetically. “I’m sorry, I know you did say that. I’m just overthinking, I’m upset you hid it from me,” you apologized sincerely, wrapping your arms around him. 

His large arms wrapped to hold you closer, tears falling now against your shoulder. 

Geez, who knew a man like him could be so sensitive. 

“I think it’s nice that we’re neighbors now. It’ll be easier for us to date,” you admitted shyly, his tears slowing at your confession. 

“You still wanna date?” He asked meekly. 

You nodded in response with a cheeky grin. 

“Of course, who doesn’t want their future boyfriend next door to them?” 

Exactly. 

You were finally on his wavelength. You see eye-to-eye. The reason why he did this was already perfectly decoded in your mind, and he didn’t even have to explain it to you. 

Such a smart and willing girl. 

— 

You enjoyed Taehyung being your neighbor.  

Once summer finally came around, you agreed to be his girlfriend officially. School was out, and you could finally focus on things outside of just school and work. 

Him, your family, and friends. 

But mainly him. 

Taehyung occupied most of your time. 

He convinced you to work the same hours as him at your barista job. You both now worked every day, 9-5 except weekends. You left the house together; you came home together. 

You ate together, showered together, shopped together, slept together. 

Everything in your routine perfectly matches Taehyung’s. 

You spent equal time in one another’s apartment, hardly ever leaving the space now outside of work or errands. 

You texted your friends throughout the day, as much as you could at least. If Taehyung didn’t complain about you ignoring him, that was. 

He never exclusively said he wanted to meet your friends, but he always implied that you needed to describe every detail of how you met them, what they’re like, what they do, etc. 

If you wanted to hang out with them, he never exclusively said no. 

But he did do everything in his power to limit the time you spent with them, or plain guilt-trip you into not going at all. 

“Baby, you’ve worked all week, why don’t you stay home tonight?” 

“Honey, tonight is our night. We already agreed to go to the movies,” 

“Y/n, you have dinner here at home already. Why go out and spend more money?” 

You always caved in. 

You’ve seen how upset Taehyung gets. Never angry, never cold. Just plain sadness. No, depressed. 

His shoulders slumped, tears brimmed, and voice quiet. He’d rather isolate himself for hours than yell and allow you to see him angry. It was off-putting, and you genuinely hated it. So, you prevented it by all costs. 

However, tonight you were willing to put up with the possible repercussion. 

It was your best friend’s birthday tonight and you hadn’t seen her since the end of the semester. You were extremely excited to celebrate with her, and you’d been mentioning it to Taehyung all week. 

It was a girl’s night at the bar, and the theme was ‘dress to impress’, and you were beyond excited for some release. 

You’d done everything to convince Taehyung. You made him dinner early, promised he could pick you up from the club, wear a dress he approved of, and even fucked him extra good the night before.  

He was putty in your hands when he finally agreed. 

“How do I look?” you stepped out in the long black maxi dress you both chose alongside the expensive kitten heels he bought you to compliment. 

You did a small twirl for him, showing off the silky fabric and the curls of your hair falling gently. 

His voice hitched, a feigned pout on his face as he stared. “Darling, you’re making me regret saying yes,” he said, his head dipping dramatically. 

Your eyes rolled as you walked closer to him, taking his droopy head between your hands and pecking the pout on his lips away.  

“Oh, don’t be so whiny, you’re picking me up at midnight right baby?” You questioned, pecking his lips again. The man nodded, hands placed on your hips firmly. 

“I will, so don’t have me waiting please. Midnight, I'm serious,” he answered, his tone stern and assertive. A tone he only used when it came to situations like this. Where he was afraid something would happen between you. 

You nodded. “Midnight, gotchu baby,” you assured before turning on your heel and walking back to your bedroom briefly. 

You were originally in there to grab your lip gloss and keys, but your eyes caught a glimpse of the silver camera Taehyung always carried around. 

On your dates, he would snap photos of you two, (mainly just you) and show you how cute they came out. You loved using the pics he snagged for your Instagram and such. He hadn’t used it since the last date;you wondered why it was in your room actually. 

Maybe he just had it on him and took it out when he came over? Yeah, that made the most sense. 

You did love the quality of the photos, however. Maybe you and your girls could snap pictures of each other tonight at the party!  

You didn’t think much further, taking the camera and safely tucking it away in your purse before exiting the room. Taehyung waited beside the front door of your apartment, and a small frown on his face again. 

“Are you sure I can’t come?” He whined, eyes like a lost puppy staring into you. You rolled your eyes teasingly, hugging your big baby and pecking his cheek. 

“Unless your name changes to ‘Taeyeon’, I don’t think so,” you joked, letting him go and opening the door. “See you later baby,” you bid before exiting the unit and going downstairs. The uber you and your friends were sharing awaited downstairs for you. 

Taehyung made sure you safely entered the vehicle before closing the door to your apartment and locking it. 

He continued to roam around your apartment, looking at things to see if anything had changed. He knows it didn’t. Never did. 

He went through all of your drawers. Cabinets. Closet space. Even your mattress, anytime he could. Anytime he can. 

Walking into the bedroom, his eyes scanned your desk. Looking at all the makeup you used to get ready tonight. 

You hardly wore this much makeup on your dates with him. Not that you needed it, but it caused his heart to race. 

Why did you need it tonight? You were just hanging out with the girls. That’s what you said, right? 

If not him, then who’re you trying to impress? 

The dolled-up face, the tight dress, the curly hair. All for a bar filled with random men to see you at all night.Fuck. He had to release this pent-up aggression. 

His eyes scanned, searching for his camera. 

He swears he left it there, it was right there. By your lip gloss. The lip gloss you just used… 

Fuck. 

—- 

“Happy birthday to you!” You and your girls sang to your best friend, everyone’s phone recording as the mini cake was lit up at the VIP section of the club. 

The music was thumping and the bass was almost too loud for anyone to hear each other. 

Shots scattered around the table. You only had 2, just like you promised Taehyung you would. 

Your best friend blew out her candles, and your section cheered happily at the sight. Flashed lit up the table as everyone took selfies and pics with one another on their cellphones. 

“Oh my god, guys wait!” you announced, digging in your purse as you scurried to find the camera. “I took my boyfriends digi-cam tonight. I want all our pics to be like in A1 quality, I'm so serious,” you told the girls. 

Your best friends' eyes shot up happily. “Oh my god! That’s amazing, I literally need like professional pics for tonight! We all look too good,” she cheered. 

“How’s you and that guy anyways?” Your other friend commented curiously. “Being as, it’s been almost 3 months, and we haven’t met the guy, you guys still going slow?” She wondered. 

You nodded. Your hands finally found the camera as you rushed to turn it on. “Still kinda slow, we haven’t met each other's friends or family yet. Told him I wasn’t really ready for that type of shit yet, but he completely understood and agreed,” you told your friends, the girls nodding their heads and humming. 

You turned on the camera and peaked at the settings, adjusting it for the club lighting. “Okay ladies, everyone looks at the camera!” You announced, flipping the camera lenses to face you and your group. 

You all smiled and held up ‘peace signs’ before the shutter went off. 

“Okay show us!” Your best friend urged.  

“Yeah, come on!” your other friends are heard begging profusely, tapping your arm in excitement. 

“Chill! Okay!” You shushed the girls, opening the gallery of the camera, searching for the pictures. 

Suddenly, it’s dead silent. 

Your mind blanks as you’re faced with what was in the gallery. Your friends' hands flew over their mouths in shock, eyes wide and voices completely gone. 

You didn’t pay any attention to them. To the music, to the crowd, to the drinks. Just completely shifted to what was lying in the camera roll. 

Hundreds of photos of you. 

Naked. 

Asleep. 

Walking to school. 

Walking home. 

Walking to work. 

Working. 

Even some with you and your friends, the same friends sitting right beside you. 

“Y/n what the fuck?!” Your friend cursed.  

“Did you know?” The other questioned. 

Tears well in your eyes. “I-I-I had no clue… I never went through this before, I only seen pics he’s shown me…” you stammered hopelessly, eyes still glued as you scrolled. 

A knot in your stomach churned; you began gagging violently. 

Your best friend caught you in her arms, patting your back. “No- fuck. Y/n, no you’re okay, it’s not your fault, it’s okay,” she comforted as much as she could.  

Your other friends took the camera from your hand, averting your eyes from the images. 

But they looked. They scrolled and seen everything. “Y/n, this is really bad,” one of them commented. 

“He literally has pictures of your documents here too. Your birth certificate, your social, your passport,” 

“You have to go to the police right now!” 

“Shut the fuck up! She’s literally about to vomit from this shit, she can’t handle hearing this right now!” Your best friend yelled at the other girls, she being more overwhelmed than you are. 

Your breath steadied, eyes blinking rapidly as you attempted to calm down. 

“it’s fine… I'm gonna figure this out myself,” you told your friends, feigning a calm and stable voice. 

You reached for your phone. 11:57pm, Taehyung will be outside any minute now. 

You collected your purse and stood up. Kneed wobbly and eyes watery. “Gimme the camera, I gotta go,” you said, reaching for the device and snatching it away from your friends. 

They all stared at you in disbelief, calling your name profusely. 

“You can’t go! This guy is fucking weird!” Your friends screamed. 

“Y/n, we’re gonna call the police, I swear to fucking god!” 

“Please, this isn’t safe!” 

It was all white noise. 

Your hands rummaged through your purse as you set the camera inside, walking outside the bar and seeing a familiar black car parked right in front of the building. 

You opened the passenger door and sat down inside, buckling your seatbelt. Your eyes averted from the man beside you. 

“Hey, Tae,” you whispered, eyes looking out the window. 

Taehyung’s gaze was completely on the side of your face. Small smile, soft eyes, the typical expression he always shared with you. 

“Hi baby, you, okay?” He asked, his hand reaching instinctively to land on your thigh. 

“Drank too much, feeling sick can we-,” you paused, your eyes looking outside the window and seeing your friends flocking around the club entrance trying to find you. 

“Please, let’s just go,” you begged as tears threatened to fall from your eyes. 

Taehyung didn’t say anything else, immediately putting the car in drive and pulling off. 

—- 

The street was bare, hardly anyone was out driving this late. The streetlights suddenly became eerie, and the silence in the car echoed throughout the drive. 

Taehyung came to a stop at the red light. 

“Hey baby?” He asked softly. 

You hummed in response, still not facing him. You couldn’t. You were physically sickened to your stomach. 

“I can’t find my camera. Have you seen it?” He asked casually. His eyes focused on the road as the light turned green, his foot accelerating on the pedal. 

You choked. “N-no, haven’t seen it,” you lied. 

He sighed frustratingly. “You’re a liar,” he deemed. 

Your eyes widened, looking over at him now. His foot on the pedal pressing, faster.  

50. 

60. 

70. 

“I-I-I'm not lying, Tae… slow down, you’re speeding,” you begged frantically, watching as signs, buildings, lights passed you by at lightning speed. 

His hands gripped the steering wheel harder; his knuckles whitening. 

“You’re lying to me. Why’re you lying to me? I never lie to you, why do you lie to me?” He chanted under his breath, barely above a whisper. It was hard to say he was even asking you directly at this point. 

Tears fell down your face. Your throat hoarse from the sobs you choked back all night. 

“I have it!” You screamed, holding onto your own body against the seat. “It’s in my purse! I just borrowed it for tonight! I swear!”  

Taehyung’s eyes were glossy. His foot lifted off the accelerator; the car naturally slowed down at the release.  

His chest heaved from frustration. He continued the drive at a steady speed; his hands still rough against the steering wheel. 

“Why did you lie?” He asked quietly. 

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand as you trembled. “I didn’t want you to be upset that I took it out with me,” you responded honestly. 

“You should’ve just asked, I would’ve given you a new SD card and all,” he replied in his same soft-spoken tone that he always used with you. 

It was fucking petrifying. 

“It’s okay, we only took one picture anyways- “ 

“No!” He yelled, hitting his hand against the wheel. “It’s my camera! The photos on there are mine! Only for me to see!” He yelled harshly. 

You flinched at the loudness, hands shaking as you shielded your face from him. 

“I’m sorry! No one seen anything! I promise!” you defensively yelled back at the man. 

“Yes, they did! That’s why you’re lying, you’re a fucking liar! You’re lying to me!” He accused his foot picking up on the accelerator again. 

Suddenly, a loud siren wailing sounded from behind your boyfriend's car. Red and blue flashing lights followed behind. 

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath. 

Your eyes were red. The intense crying blurred your sight completely, and your heart raced from fear. 

Your boyfriend and the cops would never mix, especially in the situation you are in now. 

Luckily, Taehyung was smart enough to pull over. 

The parallel parking lane was dimly lit.  

Taehyung pulled out his license and registration immediately, rolling down the windows for the cops. 

“Have any idea why we’re stopping you?” The gruff voice of the cop beamed through the interior of the car. He took the information of Taehyung and scanned it thoroughly. 

“My girlfriend had a really long night at the bar, just trying to get her home safely,” he answered, his thumb sticking to point to you. You didn’t look at the cops. 

Your face was tear stained, hair frizzy, and body attempting to stabilize from the trembles. 

The cop stared at your figure.  

“Ma’am, step out the vehicle for me,” he instructed. 

“W-why does she need- “ 

“It’s fine, Taehyung,” you assured, eyes briefly looking at him as you unbuckled your seatbelt, taking your phone and purse with you to the back of the car where the officer awaited. 

“Name?” 

You told him your first and last name. 

“Date of birth?” 

You answered. 

The cop spoke on the radio, saying a number and asked for backup. 

“We got a call earlier about you, leaving the club downtown, saying you were the victim of a violent incident and people there were concerned for your safety,” the cop bluntly stated. 

Your eyes widened, your head turned to the car, looking through the back window for any signs of Taehyung paying attention to the situation. 

“Don’t look at him, talk to me” the officer instructed firmly. 

“If he’s hurting you, you have to let me know. We can’t have you going home and something happens,” the cop explained narrowly. 

“He doesn’t hurt me but, I think he stalked me,” you answered shamefully. 

The cop nodded his head. “The caller mentioned he took explicit photos of you without your consent, has a gallery of pictures inside your house, and so forth,” the cop continued. 

You only nodded your head.  

“Do you have the camera on you?” He asked once more. 

You reluctantly opened your purse, hand maneuvering through the bag. 

“No!” A loud visceral yell is heard from beside the car. Taehyung is standing by the driver's door, tears rushing down his flushed face. 

The cop immediately reached for his taser, aiming it at the man. “Stand back!” The cop screamed. 

“No!” You yelled at the cop, reaching before him.  

“Please Y/n! I’m not crazy… I swear baby. I-I-I just love you so much, I had to see you everywhere I…” he hiccupped between his words, falling to his knees. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you; I just never knew I could love someone like I love you. I took pictures to have you with me all the time because… I was scared you weren’t gonna ever like me… I took what I could please,” he whimpered, tears drenching his face like rainfall. 

“I’m begging you, please don’t leave me, I can’t be without you please. It’s not worth being here if you’re not with me… you’re my purpose… you’re my life, God y/n,” 

The cop rolled his eyes. He replaced the taser with cuffs. He walked over slowly to the weak man, placing his arms behind his back and cuffing his wrists. 

You stood there in shock, hand over your heart as you watched the man cry, plead, beg for you. 

His eyes glossy and red, lips stained with saliva as his cries grew louder. The cop dragged him into the back seat of the patrol car, shutting and locking the door before walking back to you. 

“I’ll make it simple. He admitted to his crime already, you can hand me the SD card for evidence, you go home, he goes to jail and you don’t have to deal with this,” the cop explained to you swiftly. 

“Or you don’t give me the card, you don’t press charges, he goes to jail overnight with a ticket and then comes home and you risk him hurting you, what’s gonna happen?” 

Your eyes dart between the cop, your purse, and Taehyung in the back of the car. 

You choked on your sobs, wiping your face with the back of your hand before focusing on the cop. 

You dug once more in your purse and opened the SD card port to the camera, punching out the small blue disk and handing it into the officer who gladly accepted the piece. 

— 

School started again around two months ago. 

You quit your job as a barista and moved out of your apartment right after Taehyung was convicted and sentenced to prison time. 

It was hard facing him in that court room, testifying against him while viewing the photos he took of you for the second time. 

The police raided his apartment. The old one and the unit he purchased next to you. They found the gun he’d threatened Gabe with. He never told you owned one, and you doubt he ever would. They found the portrait frames he’d purchased, planning to frame the photos he’d taken of you alongside the computer filled with terabytes worth of evidence towards stalking you. 

What pained you the most about the whole thing... it wasn’t the fact that he had explicit photos of you nonconsensual. It wasn’t the following you home every night. It wasn’t the threats he sent to the men around you. It wasn’t manipulation, lies, the infatuation.  

It was the fact you were blinded by his ‘love’ for you. 

The way he masked his obsession behind flowers, and dates, the sex. 

It was an impressive facade. 

The monomania of being in a relationship with you, rather than genuinely loving you. 

You’ve gotten a new job, working in retail at your favorite clothing store. 

“Here’s your bags,” you smiled at the young lady opposite the cash register, handing her the bags filled with clothes and the receipt. “Enjoy your day!” 

She reciprocated her smile, “thanks” she accepted the bags and walked towards the exit of the doors. 

A buzz from your phone rang in your back pocket, 

“Excuse me, sorry need to take this,” you alerted to your manager who nodded understandably as you walked to the back office. 

You picked up the call. 

“Hello?” 

“Hello, this is Officer Jackson with the county jail downtown, it appears that inmate Kim wanted to speak with you over the line, is that okay?” The officer’s voice beamed through the speaker. 

Your eyes squeezed in realization. A deep strung-out huff blew from your chest as you collected your thoughts before you answered. 

“Yes,” 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

a/n: I feel this might be one of my fav works yet. I've never wrote yonder, idk lmk how u like it <3

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⠀iv.for you, a thousand times over - them & now. ⠀⠀⠀dad!yoongi, each dream of mine. ⠀⠀⠀dad!jungkook, the sound of magic. ⠀⠀⠀dad!namjoon, a tale of cosmic hope. ⠀⠀⠀dad!hoseok, the power of kisses. ⠀⠀⠀dad!jimin, made of stars and laughter. ⠀⠀⠀dad!seokjin, a collection of love. ⠀⠀⠀dad!taehyung, fragments of happiness.

⠀v.a dream within a dream - serenity of a heartache. ⠀⠀⠀ex-boyfriend!yoongi, wishes of hurt & love. ⠀⠀⠀ex-boyfriend!jungkook, bouquet of insignificant tears. ⠀⠀⠀ex-boyfriend!namjoon, drunk in hurt. ⠀⠀⠀ex-boyfriend!hoseok, the melody of departure. ⠀⠀⠀ex-boyfriend!jimin, the ashes of his essence. ⠀⠀⠀ex-boyfriend!seokjin, pain in ignorance. ⠀⠀⠀ex-boyfriend!taehyung, moon's first tear.

⠀vi.and the rest is rust & stardust - a moonless hope. ⠀⠀⠀second-chance!yoongi, confessions over coffee. ⠀⠀⠀second-chance!jungkook, impatiently he waited. ⠀⠀⠀second-chance!namjoon, another saturday morning. ⠀⠀⠀second-chance!hoseok, the last apologize. ⠀⠀⠀second-chance!jimin, wrapped in the present. ⠀⠀⠀second-chance!seokjin, an invitation. ⠀⠀⠀second-chance!taehyung, the fate of a lover.

on a rainy day, you decide to read... ⠀vii.i wish you always - soulmate!BTS. ⠀viii.oh, your love is sunlight - older-brother!BTS. ⠀ix.but here i blur into you - childhood-friend!BTS. ⠀x.softer than the stars - best-friend!BTS. ⠀xi.where the sun meets wildflowers - highschool-sweetheart!BTS. ⠀xii.all love is an attempt to live - roommate|BTS.

on a foggy day, you decide to read... ⠀xiii.it's the connection we can't explain - co-worker!BTS. ⠀xiv.the moon is the same here - long-distance!BTS. ⠀xv.we're becoming so much more- jealous!BTS. ⠀xvi.it only has to make sense to you - sugar-daddy!BTS. ⠀xvii.do the stars gaze back at us? - first-time!BTS. ⠀xviii.the sun doesn't ask the sky if it belongs - to be added.