ff limbo

The atmosphere in the ostentatious hotel suite is positively buzzing with anticipation.

Yoongi walks into the room in a crisp suit, sporting snake monograms on his cufflinks, pure elegance dripping off of him not unlike any given day. You gaze at his sexiness from the accent chair you’re reading a magazine on with your legs crossed, trying not to crassly drool, and in return, he gawks at the mesmerizing sight of his girl that massively overshadows the neon nightscape behind her. He gallantly reaches for your hand and places a kiss on it as if this is your special day.

He is very appreciative that you have generously indulged his requests for the night—wore his handpicked selection of attire all the way down to your shoes, put on the jewelry he had specially flown in, painted your nails in his preferred color…

You look so fucking gorgeous that if he can’t get a hold of himself, he’s going to ruin his appetite before dinner. 

“Like what you see, birthday boy?” you throw your arms around his neck, discreetly rubbing yourself against his crotch.

“Don’t tempt me or I’ll fuck you right in front of them,” he heavily exhales and nods towards the security detail by the door. “I’m barely holding it together.”

“You’ve wanted this that much?” you chuckle into his ear, gently biting his earlobe. “You seem more… enthusiastic than usual.”

“It’s you,” he gropes your ass with one hand while the other brings your fingers to his lips for a bite, opting for a kiss at the last second. “It’s always you.”

There is a reason he has dolled you up like a luxuriously packaged gift tonight. Although it is his birthday, the present is for someone else to open. 

And he’s never looked forward to something this much.

A knock interrupts the sultry melodies playing over the speakers. Yoongi glances at the door, then at you, and smiles.

“It’s showtime, baby,” he slaps your ass as you disappear to wait for your cue.

Jungkook enters the room flanked by two of his men looking like loyal hounds, cocky swagger of owning half the city dripping off of him. 

“Happy birthday, my liege,” he dips his head with the respect he reserves for less than a handful of people in the universe, then immediately cracks up once he absorbs the opulence cradling the room. “Jesus, you’d fucking die if you weren’t obnoxiously extravagant for once, wouldn’t you?”

The boss and his right-hand man slam their hands against each other for a firm shake and pull each other into a brief hug. They sit down by the gargantuan windows and engage in empty chitchat as they sip on the most expensive scotch money can buy. The weather. The game last night. Whether they should branch into solicitation for murder or not.

“What is this good news you kept teasing the entire week?” Jungkook taps his index finger on the glass resting on one leg folded over the other. “If it’s not a sizeable increase in my cut, I’ll be very upset. You hit fifty million thanks to me.” 

“Funny you should say that,” Yoongi presses two fingers on his temple. “It is about a reward I feel like giving you.” 

“Is the first digit finally a two?” Jungkook smirks with contentment.

“Even better,” Yoongi grins wider. 

“Gentlemen.” 

You make your entrance like the main character you are, hips swaying with radioactive temptation, and when he looks to his right, Jungkook confirms it’s not an auditory hallucination. He visibly falters, not expecting to see you tonight at all, and he is doing a terrible job of hiding the fact that he is mentally undressing you, jaw dropped, poise in shambles. He watches the way your heels kiss the rug with every step you take, and he realizes he is fucking jealous of the floor you walk on. 

It’s a miracle he manages to snap out of it.

“Is this a fucking prank or something?” he creases his brows at his boss. 

“I’m just showing hospitality,” Yoongi gracefully brings his scotch glass to his lips. 

Jungkook starts fighting for his life when you sit right on his lap, your arm flung over his wide shoulders inducing the kind of panic that can easily send him to the ER. He is sure he is no longer the man he was before your ass made contact with his thighs.

“You know, I hear everything that goes on under my roof. Tell me if this quote seems familiar to you:” Yoongi lounges back, his smile faint but amused to the high heavens, “I’d fuck her so good she would make me her side bitch on the first thrust.” 

Jungkook chokes on air. It doesn’t help that you are also chuckling into his ear.

“Look, I can explain…” 

“No need,” Yoongi shakes his head without an ounce of his usual tranquil fury. “Here’s your chance.”

That just CANNOT be possible. 

It’s a loyalty test, isn’t it? It’s not like he’s going to offer him his princess on a silver platter on his goddamn birthday or anything…

“You want me to fuck your girl?” he arches his brows in genuine surprise.

“If you’re interested, of course.” 

IN

TE

RES

TED?!

It’s not even remotely enough to describe his willingness levels. If he were any more interested, he would have to check himself into a psych ward for lust-induced psychosis. He lives for this. He eats, sleeps, and thinks this. If you knew how many times he jerked off to you in the past three days alone, you would issue a restraining order against him in the blink of an eye. 

The first time because you wore his favorite sundress, the second time because you touched his arm while laughing at one of his jokes, the third time because you moaned through a yawn, the fourth time because he imagined what you’d look like pregnant, and fifth time to exorcise himself for the fourth time…

He is your self-proclaimed number one fan, entirely obsessed with you, and you getting even more comfortable on his lap, playing with his curls, watching him crumble under you has to be the biggest fanservice in the history of everything.

“What? You’re scared he’s gonna shoot you?” you purr into his ear. 

“You don’t just hand things out,” Jungkook turns to Yoongi. “What’s the catch?” 

“There isn’t one,” he shrugs, perfectly serious. “Unless you call me being present a catch.” 

Years he has spent jerking off to you in shameful silence, and you are being offered to him just like that? This is a trap. It has to be a trap. Or a once-in-five-lifetimes miracle. 

Possibly both.

“That’s… That’s it?” 

“Well, there is one more thing, and I can’t stress how important it is,” Yoongi adds, letting the moment linger in the air to drag on the suspense. “You have to act like you’re doing this against my will.” 

Jungkook is bewildered out of his mind, utterly incredulous of the words coming out of this man’s mouth. 

Okay.

Fuck, okay.

God, okay, fuck, jesus!

He is already half-hard under you. He might last four minutes, six if he can force himself to imagine the unsexiest things his mind can possibly render. He’s desperately thinking of ways to sustain himself longer so he doesn’t wake up from the horniest wet dream of his life extremely prematurely.

“What are my limits?” he asks as he clears his throat.

“Nothing’s off limits. The worse, the better,” Yoongi answers. “Anything she accepts, you can do.” 

“How long do I have?” 

“However long you can last, but the second you cum, it’s over.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be, like, crazy loyal to your man?” Jungkook turns to you, his on-brand cockiness slowly waking up from the chokehold.

“Who says I’m not?” you answer leisurely. “Loyalty isn’t about what I put inside me.” 

He charmingly smiles, stealing the briefest glance from Yoongi’s way in the meantime. 

“Then here’s what we’re going to do.” 

Your neck is right there for him to kiss, but he needs to break his five-year record and wait for five more minutes. He whispers his scheme into your ear, doing his best not to fucking pass out because of your perfume in his nose. Then he stands up to bring a chair for his boss to sit, changes the song to one of his favorite bedroom jams, and orders you.

“Dance for your man, beautiful.”

To every other person on the planet, Yoongi is an unreadable enigma, the embodiment of calm control and velveteen menace, but you can tell from the glint in his hooded eyes when something starts awakening within him. You climb onto the birthday boy’s lap and slowly roll your hips to the rhythm, every curve of your body wrapping around him as you move. The drag of his tongue across his lips devolves into a bite as he admires the tattoo between your tits. He has half a mind to say fuck it to everything and bend you over to fuck your wits out of you until he fully decimates you.

He is so hypnotized by the devil’s slutty bride grinding on cock that he doesn’t even realize his hands are cuffed behind his back until he hears a click.

“Honors?” Jungkook gives you two more pairs to tie Yoongi’s ankles to the legs of the chair.

“Just how many pairs of cuffs do you walk around with?” you chuckle. 

“There is always an opportunity if you know where to look,” he nods towards the door and points at the security detail, “and yours is right over there.” 

The man of the hour is properly pinned to his place. Jungkook sprawls on the couch right across him, then takes your hand and pulls you closer.

“Now, where were we?” he smiles at you like a man in possession of the uppest of hands.

Because he did.

Credit where credit is due, he fakes the most convincing composure of all time as he fights the raging urge to grope you everywhere, treating you like the queen you are with the sublest of touches. Hands coarse from handling guns become a pair of feathers tickling your body, gently sliding from your back down to your waist. He is so lost in the sheer sight of you that he can’t even register Yoongi’s presence in the room. 

“You have a rep among us lowlifes, you know,” he softly kisses your shoulder. 

“How so?” 

“Call me crazy, but every time I keep post outside, you suddenly feel this need to fuck your man for some reason. Then you scream so loud that one would think you’re doing it on purpose to get me horny,” his hands reach your ass and he gives it a firm squeeze, “which you do by the way.” 

“Yeah, you’re fucking crazy,” you chuckle.

“Damn straight,” he responds, dead serious, not smiling at all. “I’m fucking crazy about you.” 

He heaves a deep sigh, lips parted, devouring you with his eyes. The warmth of his breath tickles you, and you feel the first drops of your slick starting to pool between your legs.

“He has an army of guys at his disposal,” he brushes your cheek with a single knuckle. “Why do you think he asked for me?” 

His hands keep exploring your body. With each curve he feels under his touch, he turns a little more feral, grows a little bigger, and breathes a little heavier, biting his lips not because he is turned on, but to tame himself.

“Because he knows you get me weak as fuck,” he whispers against your skin.

“I get you weak?” you chortle. “How come I’ve never known this?” 

“When it’s a cartel boss’s princess in question, you can’t really declare that shit out in the open on account of wanting to live,” he says matter of factly, “but since I have a free pass tonight, I can say whatever the fuck I want.” 

His mouth ghosts on your collarbones, but he fails to practice restraint. His lips are momentarily pressed on them, drawing a wet trail from one side to the other. He leaves his own body and watches himself from afar as he slowly drags the bust of your dress down. Not all the way, just enough to tease himself with the sight of your cleavage. He can’t help himself and licks a stripe between your tits. When he makes you moan for the first time, he immediately thinks he’s not built for this. You’re too much temptation, and he is too weak for you, willing to collapse this entire cartel if it means you’ll ride him for five more seconds.

“Fuck being a princess,” his rampant jealousy morphs into a desperate plea as he pulls your face closer. “Come be my queen instead.”

You take his lips between yours, and he loses all control.

What was meant as a teasing peck instantly turns into a very heavy makeout session. Messy. Wet. Pornographically loud. Your hands in his hair, his fingertips sunk into your thighs, his cock throbbing harder under you every time your teeth tugs at his lips. You remember that hunger from somewhere.

The creak of the chair and the sound of metal clinking steal your attention. You break the kiss and turn around to witness a very tense Yoongi, the only other man who kisses you like this.

“If you’re flinching just with a kiss, we’re gonna have a fucking problem later on, boss. This is going to get a lot worse,” Jungkook warns him, then grins like a maniac. “I’m about to go all the way with your girl.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, but there’s an equally deranged smile on his lips. 

“Nervous?” you coo at Jungkook. 

“Wouldn’t you be if your favorite pornstar was perched on your lap like this?” he licks his lips. “I’m a huge fan.” 

He reaches into the inside pocket of his blazer and takes out a miniature vial filled with white powder, then draws a line across your tits. He snorts the coke so deeply like it’s his backup supply of oxygen, and when he looks up at you again, his blown pupils almost completely eclipse his irises. You are pleased. You are aroused. You are loving this, and you want to see how much more feral he can get over you.

“Which one of my movies do you like the best?” you cradle his face. 

“Prison guard,” he answers without a beat. “By a landslide.” 

“It’s the latex, isn’t it?” 

“It’s everything about you,” he growls, jaw clenched with animalistic desire. “Fucking step on me.”

His fingers brush against the blackletter S tattoo right between your tits, and his face contorts upon the mental image he created for himself.

“It’s okay. I know a guy,” he kisses your chest. “It’ll be a J in no time.” 

He pulls you into another kiss, this time a lot deeper, messier. You moan into each other’s mouths, and the slurping sounds echo in the suite. You grind faster on his lap, stuck between wanting to tease him and making him cum untouched for you. 

“I always imagine it’s you when I get my dick sucked. I can’t help it,” he confesses into your ear, voice almost like a whimper as he sneaks one hand between your legs to caress your supple thighs. “I don’t care if it’s for one night, you’re finally mine.” 

He finally starts unpacking you, dragging down the straps of your dress first. Slowly, still teasing himself as if he’s not gonna die if you so much as kiss his cock. Then he yanks your bust down and reveals your breasts, almost passing out at the sight.

“I can be your side bitch. That could be my new job,” he fondles them, falling in love with the way they feel in his palms. “Now that would be the promotion I fucking deserve.” 

“Being his right-hand man doesn’t cut it?” you sneer. 

“No, but you being my wife would.” 

He traps your nipple in between his lips and starts sucking on it, his tongue stealing a couple of licks every now and then. He stays latched to you as you undress him. Blazer off, shirt off, belt off. Before you take his pants off, he trades places with you and makes you sit on the couch, then kneels before you like a faithful servant. Your thighs make a sticky sound as he spreads your legs, and he gulps way too thickly when he sees just how wet you are. 

“You’re not gonna cry, are you?” you tease, tangling your fingers into his locks again.

“I might, actually. You into ruining hot men?” he asks, face way too serious for it to be a joke. “No worries if not. I’ll just get my tear glands removed.”

He wraps his arms around your thighs and gets into position, staring at your folds just like a predator looks at its prey. 

“Look into his eyes when I eat your pussy,” he instructs. “Show off your new fucktoy.”

He licks one stripe across your cunt, and the sound that rips from your throat is unholy. 

He starts giving you the deepest, sloppiest, and loudest head of your goddamn life like he is trying to prove something. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s, and it thrills the shit out of you to watch him watch you. His eyes are all hooded, snitching on how he’s dying of arousal as his spoiled princess gets pleasured out of her mind by a total simp, his cock straining his pants. It’s almost art, the way it goes down. No sight in the world can be this fucking sublime. 

“Look at him. He fucking hates how much he loves this, but he can’t do anything about it,” Jungkook chuckles into your pussy. “He can’t go anywhere. He acts all tough, but we both know what a fucking simp he is for you.” 

Two fingers curl into you as he licks a slow drag from your slit to your clit, giving it a strong suck at the end. You spit on your fingers and play with your nipples, riding his face faster for as much friction as you can get. He pins you in your place and spreads your lips, then starts flicking his tongue on your clit so fast that a buzzing sensation sets in.

“D–Deeper… Fuck me deepe— Yes. Now suck harder. Spit on it, baby, get it slipp— God, yes. Yes. YES, HARDER!!!”

You fall apart on his tongue, getting sucked hard and fingered deep just like you’ve ordered. He doesn’t let go until he reaches that sweet spot of overstimulation, enjoying the sight of you squirming for him just for a little while. 

“But if he wants to be with you, he’s gonna have to watch me wreck you,” he rises on his knees, chin covered with your slick, and pulls you close to let you taste yourself. “Now sit on my cock, beautiful.”

He stands for you to undo his pants first, and you swallow hard when you face his crotch, fully salivating when his cock springs free. Leaking. Flushed. Huge. Raging erection staring at you to devour it. You lean in and steal a taste from his tip. Low, almost quiet sounds of pleasure escape his lips as you tease his slit, but when you lose control and choke on his girth, he full-on growls. 

“God, you’re fucking killing me,” he throws his head back, eyes fluttering shut like your lips were rimmed with morphine.

He wants to fuck your throat and your cunt, and it’s driving him crazy that he can’t do both at the same time. If he lets you blow him any longer, he’s gonna grab a fistful of your hair, and god knows what will follow afterwards. He barely manages to peel himself away and sits back down, pulling you onto his lap again. 

“Into me,” he pulls your body closer, your back flush against his chest. “Spread wide so your man sees everything perfectly.” 

You gasp when his tip prods your entrance, and it turns into a drawn-out moan when he starts sinking into you, inch by thick, delicious inch. As Yoongi watches another man take what’s his, he makes the kind of sound grown men are not supposed to make. He is so fucking into it, leaking at the sight of Jungkook’s thick cock stretching you, wet squelch of your pussy complete music to his ears. A part of him is riddled with jealousy, but the part that is infested with fatal amounts of lust consumes it at record speed like flesh-eating bacteria. 

It doesn’t matter how much time Jungkook takes to disappear into you; he is still actively losing a piece of his mind permanently. His lips are latched to your neck, your arm is thrown back behind his nape, his hands are fondling your tits, and his cock is buried six feet under you, fucking you so hard like he’s going to die within the next ten minutes. He can’t believe you’re actually falling apart on his lap, screaming horrendous profanities with eyes squeezed shut. A sight he’s dreamed of, drooled over, jerked off to, now in technicolor, rushing in his veins worse than the coke he snorted and getting him twice as high. 

“You’re gonna kill me. God, you’re gonna fucking kill me,” he keeps repeating, voice faded as fuck as he licks into your ear. “Should I call over one of my boys to eat your pussy, too, huh? Do you wanna be a proper slut for me?” 

He shoves his fingers inside your mouth and collects your spit, then starts rubbing your clit, swollen and sticky, desperately fast like a starved animal. Nothing else exists in this moment. It’s just him and you, and this is all about how he’s the one you’re crumbling over, how he’s the one making you drool with your eyes rolling back, and how you’re moaning his name. 

RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR MAN!

“That’s it. Let go. Show him who’s really the boss. Show him who you really want,” he orders, laughing more deliriously as his arousal peaks, seconds away from snapping. “I love you. God, I fucking love you. I’ll fill you up so good, then I’m gonna watch him eat it. Milk me. Milk it out of me, baby, you’re fucking KILLING ME WITH THIS!!!” 

Jungkook assumed it would be you, but it’s Yoongi who reaches the finish line first, cumming untouched simply by watching this beautiful disaster. You can’t believe what has just unraveld before you, and he looks so fucking good, all fucked out without a single touch, that it pushes you over the edge. Jungkook senses the danger when you clench too hard around him and forces himself to his absolute limit to hold it. Until he makes sure those rhythmic pulses around him are fully involuntary. When he finally lets go, an inhumane sound rips from his throat, so guttural it could be a scream of agony. His orgasm gives him a terrible instant headache like a brain freeze, and you can feel the warm wetness gushing out of you, making you wonder just how large that load was.

A dense hush of pure satiation falls over the room, and your faded chuckles and heavy breathing are the only thing that echoes for a while. This is bliss. Utter and unmitigated bliss. You rest in Jungkook’s embrace until your limbs are loaded with some strength again, then you carefully pull him out of you. You stand up, thick strings of cum dripping down your thighs, and undo Yoongi’s restraints, soothing his cuffburns with soft kisses. 

“You got a bit carried away there with the confessions, Jeon,” he smirks at Jungkook. 

“Hey, what happens in the scene, stays in the scene, man,” Jungkook answers, one arm draped over his eyes, still trying to catch his breath. 

“So if I asked you to tag team her with me right now, you wouldn’t do it. Is that what you’re saying?” 

Jungkook removes his arm and looks at him, trying to assess how serious he really is, but all he can see is yet another enigmatic smile. Yoongi rises to his feet, reclaims your lips for himself again, then gallantly reaches for your hand and places a kiss on it as if this is your special day. As if you’re not all disheveled, covered in cum and spit. 

“I’ll take over the pussy worship duties for a while,” he declares. “Join us if you can manage to recover.” 

You cross the threshold to the bedroom hand in hand, and Jungkook watches you kiss Yoongi while removing his blazer. Then undo his belt. Then he watches Yoongi wrap the belt around your wrists and lay you down on the bed. Even though he just came, his cock faintly throbs. He might have accidentally picked up an addiction worse than cocaine tonight. 

Fifty million can’t hold a fucking candle to this narcotic delight.

Seven minutes? Try an eternity.

Jungkook switches to auto mode and climbs onto the bed right next to you. He takes your phone away under your curious gaze, setting both devices by the pillow, and no longer able to contain the fire that consumes him, he goes in for a kiss.

You contract a bit of lust-fueled insanity from those lips you can never get enough of.

He deepens and deepens and deepens the kiss, and you just let him, wondering if he has any plans of stopping before he descends all the way down to your heart. A part of you knows he has to, but the other never ever wants him to.

It’s starting to terrify you, the lengths you’re willing to go for this man.

He peels his pants away and gets on his knees, then prods your lips with the tip of his cock. Dying to know what he would feel like in your mouth ever since this morning, you take him in eagerly. He feels like too much to take sometimes. He feels like he crosses the line at times.

He feels like he completes you somehow.

“You moan so much,” he caresses your cheeks. “He eats good, yeah?”

“Mpf…”

“Mm, that’s right. Only the best for my— Oh FUCK, yes!” he exclaims, then immediately commands Taehyung. “Get aggressive. She tastes fucking delicious when she squirts.”

“Well, isn’t that just great?” Taehyung looks up at him. “All this eating, but my throat was still parched for some reason.”

“God, you made me work up an appetite, too. Scoot.”

He pulls out and hurriedly settles next to Taehyung, and it is at that moment you no longer know if you’re alive or not. Taehyung hooks his fingers up to a delicious angle while Jungkook relentlessly licks your clit. The two men that adorn your fantasies embarrassingly frequently are right between your legs, devouring you whole and each other’s tongues while they’re at it.

is anyone else seeing double rn 😵‍💫 im DRIPPING on the floor someone come lick me i rly cant decide who i need to fuck anymore

“Go ahead, baby,” Jungkook demands, eyes no different than the devil’s. “Cum for your man.”

For the jillionth time, what the FUCK kinda insane wording is that?!

But you feel like that’s the only thing you’re supposed to do. The obscene squelch of the fingering, the ceaseless stimulation that’s been going on for god knows how long, the awareness that you’re not really alone in this room, everything, everything morphs into a ball of pure fire and scorches your sanity away as you squirt in Taehyung’s mouth. It’s as if time warps into slow motion as your back arches, and fragmented memories of an alley flash behind your eyelids like strobe lights.

“Gooood girl. Made me so so proud,” Jungkook climbs up and kisses your lips, then picks up the “control room” phone again. “Now get on your knees. Let’s show off how you suck cock.” 

You feel no different than a puppet. Your brain can only process one directive at a time, but only if it’s delivered in Jungkook’s voice. You trade places with Taehyung and get in position, not even waiting for him to feel comfortable when you take him deep down your throat.

“Jeeee—sus…” Taehyung groans like someone’s ripping his flesh apart. “How do you not fucking die in this mouth every day?!”

“Who says I don’t?” Jungkook smirks, one hand filming your oral skills in close-up, the other caressing himself to your rhythm. “That’s it. Stroke the shaft, too. Slowly.”

oh god he likes it SOOOO MUCH you hear the heavy breathing right?

“Of course I do. I love showing her off,” Jungkook acknowledges. “Go lower, baby. Show him how you eat, too.”

HOLY FUCK TAE PEGGING ERA? jk if you make that happen taeritorrials will build shrines after you JK FOR PRESIDENT LET US WATCH THIS MAN FUCKING LOSE IT

“Oh, you’re sooo fucked, man,” Jungkook lets out a hearty laugh, then strokes your hair with a kiss on your cheek. “They wanna see the prostate magic trick. Think you can do that for me?”

You nod eagerly.

“Good girl,” he presses his lips on your temple and lingers there a while. “Work him good for me.”

You let Taehyung go with a loud pop and drag your tongue down to his balls, slowly working your way to his entrance. Jungkook gets on his knees behind you and presses his tip against your sopping wet hole, making you moan at a decibel that’s absolute music to his ears as he slides right inside with ridiculous ease. The rhythm he fucks you with is just like this morning’s. So languid, not to cum, just to snack. He films the whole sight from his POV, proudly showing off how he fucks “his girl” while she ends a sex god’s life in her mouth. The sounds of skin against skin, moaning, groaning, hissing, all make for the perfect porn production.

It’s the filthiest bliss.

If only Jungkook didn’t catch a glimpse of the black diamond between your cheeks, maybe he wouldn’t suddenly crave you that violently.

“What a fucking simp,” Taehyung snickers. “Has to be latched to his girl at all ti— Oh fuck, that feels so good…”

You weren’t expecting that strong of a reaction when your fingers made landfall inside him, but now that you have Taehyung where you want him, you can’t let this go. You gently grope his thighs to steal his attention and look straight into his eyes, moaning louder against his balls in your mouth, one hand fervently stroking his leaking cock and the other pressing his annihilate button located deep inside him.

“Like that. Baby, like that. GOD I’m gonna cum so hard, yes. Yes. YES FINISH ME, FUCK!!!”

The satisfaction of making the man that gives you hot flashes cum is simply indescribable. Taehyung looks slightly in pain as he gushes all over your fist, but also clawing at the sheets, absolutely ascending, zero control over the volume of his moans as he drowns in pleasure.

No one can blame you for the ego trip because you made that happen.

“Don’t stop. Keep… Keep g— FUCK, just like that…”

You’ve thought they were just fucking around when they popped those pills, but he really doesn’t get soft no matter how ruthlessly you overstimulate him. But if His Majesty wants it, who are you to deny him?

omg coach tag tae in the public NEEDS a dp fever dream YOU FUCKING SLUT I LOVE IT

“Down for dual entry?” Jungkook lazily laughs, completely out of it.

Even though Taehyung has just emptied a concerning load on you, he nods with maniacal enthusiasm. Jungkook switches to auto mode again, and this time he puts all angles on screen.

“The moment of truth, baby,” he very carefully removes the plug that makes him short-circuit, and lowers himself to kiss all over your back. “I’m taking this out so you can sit on that cock for me, okay? You’re gonna make me proud again, right?”

He turns your face to himself and drowns you in kisses, effectively making it impossible to say no to him as if it was an option in the first place. Taehyung welcomes you into his arms like you’re his princess, picking up where Jungkook has left off to reward you with kisses all over your face. He then slowly turns you around, pressing his tip against your tight entrance.

“Deep breaths. There you go,” he reassures you, peppering kisses on your shoulders. “It will feel so good in just a second. I promise.”

As you try to take Taehyung’s massive size, Jungkook settles between your legs, holding both your hands instead of your thighs this time. He licks and licks and licks, but it’s not to get you aroused, nor to pleasure you. Just to relax you. Your eyes can only see Jungkook. You can only feel Jungkook. You forget all about the pain, and there is only this swelling in your chest.

look at how he eats my GOD he’s so in love simp <3 SIIIIIMP <333

“That’s it,” Taehyung tenderly pushes you to relax into his chest, spreading your legs a little wider. “Lean into me now.”

You let out a content exhale, and Jungkook stops his support with a kiss on your clit. He gets on his knees and rubs his tip against your folds, his eyes keenly observing your comfort.

“Ready for me?”

Of course you are. You will never not be ready for him. You ardently nod, impatient to feel him inside you again. His cock slowly disappears into you, and your moans melt into his ecstatic grunts. When they are both finally settled inside you, it’s like a dimension has changed.

You have never felt this full.

“You’re doing so great, baby. I’ve never been prouder,” Jungkook encourages you with a warm smile. “Enjoy it. Enjoy being used to the fullest.”

And when they both take off, you’re no longer in this mortal realm.

You’re dripping all over the place, and you can’t tell which fluid is which anymore. It can be spit, slick, cum, sweat, whatever. You just let yourself drown in it. You allow yourself to take pleasure in the raunchiest fucking fantasy your mind could ever conjure, and you don’t feel a shred of shame being a toy to not one but two men’s unhinged desires.

istfg im going CRAZY HERE EIFFEL WHO???? i never wished i had a dick this much god LOOK at that pussy

“You’re doing fucking incredible. Look at me,” Jungkook holds your face. “We’re almost at the finish line, baby. Let’s go. Kiss me.”

And kiss him you do.

Fine, your perception is distorted, but no one kisses like you’re the meaning of their entire life when they’re balls deep inside you, sharing you with someone else. He touches your face, and you’re electrified. He kisses your lips, and you feel so alive. He empties himself inside you, and you feel like you have found your life’s purpose.

His euphoria is the utopia you want to lock yourself in forever.

TF is anyone else crying rn and not down their legs oh to be loved like this 😩🥹 get u a man who can do superfreak AND loverboy lwk hate him for this i was doing JUST FINE pretending this genre of men didn’t exist

“Keep fucking my cum deeper into her,” Jungkook suddenly orders Taehyung.

As if he didn’t just spend half his soul on you, he lunges at the phone and gets between your legs again, capturing the moment Taehyung changes destinations in crisp detail.

“My god yes,” he growls, clenching his jaw like he wants to break it. “Let him use that tight little cunt, baby.”

He did have all the intention to assume the director role for one last scene, but can you blame him? You’re right there in front of him, tits fondled, neck kissed, pussy fucked, practically begging him to please please please make you feel good.

He’s not a monster; how can he ever say no to you?

He ditches the broadcast and goes straight for your clit, your moans tripling in volume when he starts licking you again. He loves the way your fingers are tangled in his hair, pushing his face deeper into your cunt.

“Oh, someone’s about to cum again,” Taehyung moans into your ear. “Go ahead, cum all over my cock. Let’s fill you up to the brim.”

“Jungkook, please,” you beg in earnest. “Please, I’ll do anything. It feels so good. So good, please!”

Well, no one in their right mind can expect Jungkook to stay still when you slap him really hard on the face with his own insane rule.

He turns the flick speed on your clit to such stratospheric heights that you come undone on his tongue in just a few seconds, and you clench around Taehyung so hard that he has no choice but to let himself go. You don’t know if it’s the lavender culprit or how oversensitive you are anymore, but you can feel every drop of Taehyung inside you.

And it gives you the most wicked idea.

“I… I wanna… taste it,” you mumble, barely audible. “Us… on… on you.”

Jungkook’s whole body receives the defibrillator treatment with your words because how can it fucking not? He takes a few seconds to process if he’s heard you right, but when you keep rambling the same thing over and over again, he obliges, his heart swelling in his chest for no reason at all. He dips cock into your pussy and coats himself with that swirl, offering himself to you for a taste.

He can’t believe he has to be the one to stop you, but he has no choice when your harmless licks turn into an assassination attempt in your mouth.

“Shh, slow down, baby,” he curls up right next to you, pulling you into his chest. “Come rest here for a bit.”

“That was fucking hot, right?” Taehyung addresses his audience when he can remember that this was supposed to be a broadcast. “Well, we’re beat as hell, so that’s it for the stream tonight. Hope you enjoyed it. Cum again!”

He finally turns off the stream and drapes an arm over his eyes, trying to recuperate from the intense high he’s coming down from. Nevertheless, even when you’re stroking Jungkook’s sweat-soaked hair, it doesn’t prevent him from lawyering from the comfort of your chest.

“Per intellectual property law, we own the future royalties to that video.”

“Bro, you have got to get your fucking priorities straight,” Taehyung scoffs.

“I’m not fucking joking. Send me monthly analytics and revenue data and pay us accordingly,” Jungkook continues, not even acknowledging the sarcasm attempt. “I’ll know if you fake the report.”

“I’ve learned not to fuck with you, thanks.”

“Can we use your shower?”

“Will it stop you if I say no?”

“Good man,” Jungkook taps Taehyung’s shoulder and jumps to his feet.

He helps you get up and leads you both to the bathroom, grabbing the unintended cuck that is his duffel bag on the way. You are properly spent, zero stamina, zero awareness of your surroundings, and in dire need of hydration and a boost in blood sugar. It can be considered a “bright side” that you don’t have the wits to load that much meaning into how Jungkook washes you so attentively, even combing and drying your hair himself.

But it is a bit of a problem when the shower reloads like 97kB of your senses because you can perceive he’s helping you put on clothes. Because that top is not yours. Because it’s his favorite hoodie that you keep fighting him for, and it does smell like him even through that fabric softener. And you’re supposed to not melt.

Swell…

He changes into a pair of hoodies and sweatpants himself, then shoves the clothes you came here in into his bag. The homeowner walks with you to the front door in his on-brand princely robe to see you off.

“Thank Taehyung for his services, baby,” Jungkook puts an arm around your shoulder.

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you repeat on autopilot with a dumb smile, fucked out as hell.

“Anytime, beautiful,” he leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Ditch this loser and come see me alone someday. I’ll show you a good time.”

“And I’ll make sure it looks like you did it for insurance when I burn your place down,” Jungkook flashes a fake-ass smile with chilling psychotic undertones. “Laters.”

As he drives the car that costs your whole life and then some, you just watch the streetlights out the window, and your feet just can’t touch the ground. Your afterglow is not neon plasma maybe, but every time Jungkook turns to his right, he catches a glimpse of you floating in air, and it makes him smile a little bigger. Neither of you talk, but the silence isn’t tense—the ambiance is still super chill even though Jungkook’s harlot jams aren’t even playing in the background.

It’s as if you’ve just caught a movie and not run three porn-athons back to back.

You’re surprised when your destination ends up being your favorite greasy spoon instead of home, and when you walk into that cozy little place, just the smell of pancakes is enough to shock your body back into consciousness. The owner couple welcomes you both with big hugs and don’t even offer a menu. Your usuals appear out of thin air within a matter of minutes, and three silent bites later, you finally find your voice somewhere in your throat.

“No feeding me at night?” you ask Jungkook, wiggling your eyebrows knowingly.

“Of course not,” he answers with a straight face. “You’re a gremlin.”

“Oh, fuck you, Jeon!”

He cackles at a volume that would disturb people if you were at any other joint, taking zero damage from your arm slap.

“That would require you to sit on my lap in public,” he annoyingly grins, pressing his tongue inside his cheek. “Sure you’re down for that?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you utter in a disgustingly saccharine tone.

“So,” he reaches for the gigantic water glass. “How’d you like being free used?”

First of all, the FUCK kinda debriefing agenda over a late-night breakfast, and second of all, this question can’t be answered just like that. It’s still so fresh, you’re still not 100% back, and you probably need to talk to a therapist first about the very rude awakening you’ve faced about yourself.

“Well, I’m… very sore,” you respond through a somewhat nervous giggle. “And quite surprised.”

“Why?”

“I kept waiting for something horrific to happen, but it never did,” you confess, a bit embarrassed by your presumptions. “Is that how it’s normally supposed to be?”

“Again, there’s no official playbook, but essentially yeah,” Jungkook replies. “Any favorite moments?”

“I mean my staple thirst trap manifesting out of thin air was definitely a highlight,” you eagerly react. “Was that planned, or just a last-minute decision?”

“Do you believe in my ability to be spontaneous?”

“No, but I believe in your ability to be a magnificent ass,” you sigh, too exasperated for his antics. “I’m serious. Like, was that for the ‘Fuck a stranger because I’m telling you’ thing? Or was there another reason he was involved?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“There was a reason.”

“Which is?”

“To make a point.”

“If you think I won’t attempt assault just because we’re in public, you’re sorely mistaken,” you grit your teeth.

You hate it when Jungkook looks at you like an absolute rascal, as if he knows something you don’t and is taking this massive pleasure in keeping you in the dark. He fucking knows it drives you up a wall when he’s being all cryptic, but unfortunately for you, it’s the very same reason why it’s one of his favorite pastime activities.

“Figure it out,” he chomps on his toast with a smirk that shouldn’t feel that sly.

Now, what do you do with this? Is there actually something to figure out here, or is he just messing with you again? For a guy who is blunt to his detriment, he sure can be extremely indirect, and you’re not the biggest fan of him pulling his counselor shenanigans on you.

The social standing with him should qualify for an exemption, Your Honor!

“There is… one more moment actually,” you let slip while you’re playing with your fork.

“Hm?”

You’re in two minds whether to say it or not, but he asked. Sure, some of the best parts were spicy enough to burn your mouth for a week, but… If you were under oath?

None of those were truly your favorite moment. None.

“The breakfast,” you avert your eyes from him as you answer, uncomfortable by your embarrassment. “It was… nice.”

Jungkook stops chewing for a full second, clearly not expecting that answer at all. The corner of his lips curl again, but the color of vexing qualities is at least two shades lighter than usual.

“You weren’t annoyed I kept stopping you?” he asks, peeling the wrapping around the toast more.

“Well, I got to eat it at the end, so…”

“So did I.”

He says that a bit too meaningfully, and the lack of annoying smile actually makes it worse. You can’t look him in the eye for some reason, and you need to change the topic fast!

“Something else that surprised me,” you clasp your hands on the table and lean into the booth, eyes narrowed, smiling like you’re so about to corner him. “You kiss a lot.”

“Why is it surprising that I like kissing?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Guess I figured you’d be the ‘Ugh, gross, no kissing’ type.”

“Why though?”

Seriously, why though? Why did you expect that? There has to be a reason, right?

This is not the time to fumble, woman, focus!

“It’s uh… It’s very… intimate,” you stammer, indeed spectacularly fumbling your cross-examination, “and you don’t really… do intimate.”

A miniature silence comes to sit down with you at the table, and suddenly it’s tense again. Everything is tense when he doesn’t smile at you. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. You certainly didn’t mean it as something like “Because you’re the epitome of emotional constipation, and they haven’t made a laxative for you yet.”

Oh fuck, did you unknowingly hurt him? What if it really came across like that? What if he now thinks that y—?

“I’m the one who buys you tampons when you run out, but I don’t do intimate?”

“OH MY GOD YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN STOP REFUTING ME!!!”

He cracks the hell up, and you finally take a deeeep breath of relief. You hate it when this motherfucker gets that serious, and even two seconds of silence is suffocating if it comes out of nowhere. You would much rather have him be maddeningly irritating if it means his laughter will stay intact. Doesn’t matter if it’s at the expense of your frustration reserves.

“Just because your gun smut bad boys don’t kiss doesn’t mean it’s universally icky,” he winks with a click of his tongue, then checks his watch. “Alright, you’re officially off the clock.”

“That’s it?” you look at your phone to confirm. “You still have a few hours.”

“Oh sorry, did you want to keep indulging my every insane whim?” he giggles. “I thought you’d crash by now.”

“I think I’m still hopped up on that Lavend-derall,” you purse your lips.

“I mean, I won’t say no if you get under this table, and—”

“TOO LATE! I’m off the clock, and I want chocolate soufflé with soft serve ice cream now,” you extend your hand. “Pay up, bitch!”

As he places your order through his giggles, you rewind the entire day in your head. Some discoveries, certainly many firsts, and as risky as it was, a hardcore stress-test of your bond with Jungkook. Now that you’ve confirmed it, it’s easier to say “I knew it all along,” but just a few hours prior, it didn’t feel like that at all. You were petrified to find out if one of your worst fears was indeed true, if your trust in him had only been “on paper”, but turns out...

You can’t tell for the life of you if it’s better or worse to realize that you trust him a lot more than you thought you did.

The emotional turmoil part aside, the first attempt at your horny Destressfest seems to be a success. Well, maybe a little too much success with all the ideas crawling in your head now, some of which would strictly be out of the question for you not too long ago. You pull up a few “instant replay” clips in your mind to test if they’ll still feel just as thrilling to you, or if it was only Lavend-derall’s doing.

Being under Jungkook’s strict commands, at his pleasure’s beck and call, receiving his praise, his affection, his kisses…

Being on display for Taehyung, for strangers online…

And how much Jungkook relishes flaunting you as long as your loyalty lies with him…

“Listen, um…” you squeeze your eyes close. “I have an idea, but… No pressure. Feel free to say no.”

“What is it?”

Yes, they do. Every scene, every memory, they all still feel just as thrilling to you. You think about worse things to do with Jungkook, and they feel even more thrilling to you. Letting him have the upper hand but having him wrapped around your finger, at your pleasure’s beck and call just so he can receive your obedience, your allegiance, willing to commit all kinds of malfeasance just to have you touch him with that same vehemence.

It feels too good to be true. But it is good. And it is so true.

You’re consumed with the thoughts of getting him irreversibly addicted to you.

“Could you ask Namjoon if he’d be okay with me coming to the bachelor party?” you ask rather nonchalantly.

“Duh, he invited us both,” he dips his spoon into your ice cream.

“Not like that.”

You look at each other for a few seconds, and when those three words finally spill from your lips, Jungkook cannot be sure if he’s heard you correctly. Because never in a million years, not even in his worst fantasies, would he be able to hear you say this.

And you’ve never thought there would come a day you’d be able to scandalize His Sluttiness.

“As the entertainment,” you stare dead into his eyes with a smirk that shouldn’t feel that sly.

<< previous

The next day, you get ready around five o’clock, putting on a cute outfit consisting of jeans, an oversized sweater, and boots, braiding your hair and applying light makeup like you usually do. Part of you feels like you’re overdoing it, but you tell yourself the hair and makeup is what you do every day, and the outfit? It’s comfy, and you don’t want to look completely lazy, so you dressed up a bit. There’s nothing wrong with looking presentable, right?

You pull on your winter coat and wrap your scarf around your neck loosely, adding gloves and a cute beanie before leaving your apartment. The weather has chilled significantly now that it’s November, so you want to be prepared for the subway ride and walk to and from the stations. Hoseok’s apartment is in a much nicer part of the city than yours (understandably so), so the subway ride will take you almost an hour from start to finish. You walk to the station near your apartment and catch your train, settling in with music playing in your earbuds.

Thankfully, the ride goes quickly, despite having to transfer to a different subway line midway through. As you’re leaving the station, your phone vibrates.

Unknown Number: Hobi sent his driver. Black car, he has your name.

Just from the context of the message, you assume it’s Yoongi texting you (for the first time, you might add), so you reply.

You: okay. thanks.

You look around until you spot an inconspicuous black car, a well-dressed man waiting outside with his phone in hand. When he notices you, he beckons you over and says your name in a questioning tone. You nod and he opens the back door for you to get in. The drive to Hoseok’s apartment building is quick, only a few minutes. You definitely could have walked there in less than ten minutes, so you plan to ask him what he was thinking, sending a driver for you. You thank the driver and get out of the car, check in with building security, and take the elevator to Hoseok’s floor.

Hoseok opens the door when you ring the bell, his face lighting up when he sees you. You step inside and pull your boots off, setting them against the wall behind the door. “Hi,” you say after you straighten back up, smiling.

Hoseok pulls you into a hug, squeezing you a little tighter than you expected.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he says against your hair.

Sweet girl? That’s new, you think.

Hoseok takes your winter clothing and sets it all on a small shelf along the wall before he leads you further into his apartment. You immediately notice that his place is pretty much the polar opposite of Yoongi’s. It’s bright, all light colors and off-white walls, with a shelf of rainbow colored figures he seems to collect against one wall. When you enter the living room, you spot Yoongi lounging on the couch, sitting cross-legged, on his phone.

“Hi, Yoongi,” you say politely, taking the initiative to make conversation.

He looks up from his phone briefly, nods to you, and goes right back to whatever he was doing.

Okay. Awesome.

Hoseok puts his hand gently on your lower back as he stands next to you.

“He’s not very talkative today,” he reassures you, his voice quiet. But when you look at Hoseok, you catch a glimpse of a look that tells you that obviously isn’t the case.

You already knew that, though. You know Yoongi is the furthest thing from interested in you or in having you come on the tour with them. He told you that outright. But the least he could do is to be polite, which he doesn’t seem to want to do either.

Instead of telling you to sit, Hoseok leads you out of the living room and into his kitchen, where a few pots and pans are simmering on the stove. The aroma of whatever’s cooking is familiar, but you can’t place it exactly. He grabs a third wine glass and sets it down on the counter next to the two that are already there before turning to you.

“We’re trying,” he says quietly, out of earshot of Yoongi since the kitchen is completely separate from the living room. Unlike Yoongi’s open floor plan, Hoseok’s is more traditional, each room fully cut off from the one next to it. You tilt your head, curious what he means.

“The rest of us.. we really want you to come on the tour with us. Yoongi’s just being stubborn,” he continues, “we’ll get him there. Promise.”

“Do you mind if I ask what the problem is? Maybe I could talk to him,” you offer, but Hoseok just shakes his head.

“You talking to him isn’t going to fix anything. He just feels like you’ll be a distraction.”

Of course, you knew that, too. Yoongi told you when you had dinner with him they didn’t have time to keep someone entertained, that they’d be too busy for you. But what he isn’t understanding is that you really meant it when you told him no one would have to do that.

“I told him I—,” you start, but Hoseok gently cuts you off.

“I know. It’s not that. It’s more like.. he’s worried we will get distracted by you. Not so much that you’ll need to be entertained.”

“I thought you guys hired assistants for every tour?” you ask, confused.

Hoseok nods, turning to pour wine into the glasses on the counter.

“We have. For every tour before this one,” he confirms.

“Were they distracting?” you ask, deciding that asking directly is the best way to get answers right now.

He shakes his head.

“No. Every assistant we’ve had over the years.. they were a welcome distraction. Just like Namjoon said. They’ve always been what we needed while on tour.”

You furrow your brows, still confused.

“So, what’s the problem, then?” you ask.

Hoseok sighs and takes a sip of wine, handing you a glass.

“Yoongi had a.. bad experience with the assistant he took on his solo tour,” he nearly whispers, and it’s obvious to you he definitely doesn’t want Yoongi to hear him saying this.

Oh.

“What kind of bad experience?” you risk asking.

But you’re met with the sound of Yoongi clearing his throat from the entryway of the kitchen, causing you to startle a bit.

“Telling her my life story?” Yoongi asks dryly as he steps past you and grabs the last wine glass left on the counter.

“No, Hoseok was just—,” you try to respond, but Hoseok beats you to it.

“I was trying to explain to her why you’re being such an asshole, actually.”

You tense, expecting some sort of reaction from Yoongi, but he just shrugs.

“Fair enough,” he says then, sipping his wine. “I’d rather her hear it from me, though.”

That makes Hoseok pause, looking at Yoongi like he’s the one confused now.

“Okay.. well, I’m sure she’d love to know.”

Yoongi goes to the stove, stirring the food on the stove before he turns back to you.

“I don’t really talk about it much.”

“You don’t talk much at all, really,” you counter.

Hoseok snorts into his wine glass from his spot against the opposite counter.

Yoongi only rolls his eyes at him before he speaks again.

“I brought an assistant on my solo tour. It didn’t go well.”

You sip your own wine, setting it on the counter next to Hoseok’s.

“Okay,” you respond. “What happened?”

You can see Yoongi’s jaw clench slightly before he answers.

“Just didn’t work out.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” you say, your face falling a tiny bit.

Yoongi shrugs again.

“It is what it is. But, for the record, I’m sorry I’ve been like this. I’m- having a hard time separating that from.. you.”

You catch Hoseok’s eye briefly, the two of you exchanging a look.

“I’m trying,” Yoongi continues, tapping his fingers on the counter. “I just don’t want any of them to go through what I went through.”

“Is there something I can do to help ease your mind?” you ask, genuinely wanting to help if you can.

Yoongi just looks at you for a second, like he’s contemplating that possibility. He looks over at Hoseok for a second before meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah.”

You raise an eyebrow, waiting.

“Okay. What is it?” you prod.

“Dont fuck them over,” he says simply.

Hoseok lets out a long breath, shaking his head slightly.

“Yoongi.. that’s not really something she can prove right this second. You should give her the benefit of the doubt, don’t you think?” he asks.

Yoongi makes a small sound, somewhere between a chuckle and a snort.

“I told you I’m working on it, Hobi.”

He turns back to the stove again, stirring a few more times before he shuts off the burners.

“Plates.”

You aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or Hoseok at this point, so when you meet Hoseok’s eyes, he just gestures to the right cupboard.

You go to the cupboard, reaching up to grab plates (which are thankfully placed much lower than they were at Jungkook’s place), setting them on the counter next to the stove. Taking a guess, you open the drawer next to the stove and luckily find chopsticks, setting those out too.

You quickly step out of Yoongi’s way, unsure if he wants help or if he prefers to do things on his own. Which turns out to be the right decision, because he immediately starts plating the food with precision, looking like a well-oiled machine as he portions out meat, vegetables, and sauce on three plates. He sets them on the counter one by one near where Hoseok stands, then picks up the chopsticks and holds his hand out to you to take a set, followed by doing the same for Hoseok.

The three of you take your plates and wine glasses to the dining table. You wait for them to pick their seats, assuming they’re used to doing this and probably have usual spots, and then take one of the leftover chairs on the opposite side of Hoseok, giving Yoongi space.

Yoongi looks at you as you sit, eyeing you curiously for a split second before he starts eating.

“I don’t bite, you know,” Yoongi says offhandedly in between bites of food.

“I just thought you’d want space,” you respond.

Yoongi only hums in answer to that before going back to his food.

Ever the chatterbox, Hoseok starts talking then. He asks you how you’ve been, what you’ve been up to since you two last saw each other. The two of you talk easily, because just like the first time, Hoseok has a way of making you feel comfortable there despite barely knowing either of them. Yoongi occasionally chimes in with a short sentence or two, but otherwise doesn’t engage much in the conversation. You’re beginning to wonder if that’s normal for him, or if it’s just because you’re there.

“So, how is.. all the comeback prep coming along?” you ask, a little hesitant because you don’t know if you’re allowed to ask that.

The sharp clink of Yoongi’s metal chopsticks against his plate makes you look at him.

“No. We’re not doing that,” he says then, a hint of a smile on his face as he shakes his head, “talking about work. We’re busy and everything’s a disaster. At least keep the conversation away from that. Please.”

Hoseok laughs then. That full-bellied, obnoxious laughter that you know him to be famous for. Which doesn’t make sense to you, because what’s funny about that?

“Okay. There he is,” Hoseok says when he’s done laughing.

Oh. Alright. Clearly Hoseok sees something you don’t understand yet.

“I told you I’m trying, Hobi,” Yoongi adds. “Want me to keep trying to be my normal self, or just stay silent while you two talk all night?”

“Be your normal self. Please,” you say then. “If that means being sarcastic or grumpy or whatever.. I don’t mind.”

You catch Yoongi’s eye, noticing he still has that small hint of a smile on his face. Barely, but it’s there. Which makes you smile a little, too.

The rest of the evening, the three of you eat and drink your wine together, conversation flowing much more easily than before. Yoongi is still relatively quiet, but he at least doesn’t seem like he hates you at the moment, so that’s definitely an improvement. A far cry from the first time you met him, for sure.

“Anything new going on with you?” you ask Yoongi, trying to involve him in the conversation as much as possible.

“Not much, really. I got a new guitar recently, though,” he says.

That makes Hoseok groan, and you look over at him, wondering what that was for.

“Don’t get him started. He’ll talk for an hour if you ask him about it.”

You furrow your brows, giving Hoseok a look that silently asks him to just shut up for a second. You’re making progress with Yoongi. He’s offering you small details about his life, and if that means he yaps forever about his new guitar, then so be it.

“I’m right here, you know,” Yoongi points out, sipping his wine.

Hoseok just raises his hands in a peaceful gesture, exhaling a bit forcefully. But you can tell he isn’t mad. In fact, he almost seems like he’s warning you that he means it when he says Yoongi will talk your ear off about it if you let him.

“Okay, new guitar. I know nothing about music other than listening to it.. but that’s exciting?” you offer.

Yoongi breaks into the most adorable, but still small, smile then, pulling his phone from his pocket. He taps the screen a few times before sliding it across the table to you, a photo of the guitar he bought on the screen. You look at it, taking in the details of it before handing it back over to him.

He explains to you why he got that specific guitar, telling you about the new portable equipment he bought that he plans to take with him on tour so he can play in his free time. He tells you the specs of the guitar. Most of it goes over your head, but you listen regardless. You nod encouragingly to keep him talking, feeling lighter than you have ever since you met him.

“You seem happy about it,” you point out.

Yoongi gives you an almost shy smile then. “I am. I’ve wanted this one for a while, just didn’t buy it until last month.”

As you listen to Yoongi continue to yap about his music equipment purchases, you catch Hoseok glancing between the two of you occasionally. You can’t tell if he’s confused or contemplating something. You haven’t yet learned how to read him, but it seems like he’s kind of.. baffled? by how much Yoongi is talking to you.

“So.. yeah. I play a lot in my spare time, like.. almost embarrassingly so,” Yoongi finishes.

You smile softly at that.

“It’s not embarrassing. It’s your thing, right? Everyone has one. The hobby they’re passionate about that makes their eyes light up and that they can talk about for hours,” you reassure him.

Yoongi hums, nodding. “Yeah. I guess it is my thing.”

You check your watch, noting the time. “I should probably go soon,” you say then, “it’s getting late. I don’t want to keep you guys. You’re probably tired.”

As if on cue, Hoseok stifles a yawn.

You chuckle, standing and taking your plate to the sink. The two of them follow you with their plates and wine glasses, waiting for you to finish rinsing your dishes so they can do the same. You take their plates and rinse those, too, though.

“We could’ve handled that,” Hoseok tells you.

“No. It’s okay. You cooked and had me over. I can rinse dishes,” you say as you finish up.

Yoongi clears his throat.

“I cooked. He just sat there looking pretty,” Yoongi corrects you.

You snort softly with laughter at Yoongi’s backhanded comment.

Hoseok doesn’t look in the least bit offended by it, though.

You can’t help but feel like these two have an interesting dynamic. They’re obviously best friends, but you haven’t seen many of the members together, so being able to see how they interact with each other outside of the footage you’ve seen of them working.. you really like it. It’s like they’re slowly letting you into their world, actually taking the whole ‘becoming friends’ thing seriously.

Once all the dishes, chopsticks, and wine glasses are rinsed, you dry your hands off on a dish towel and move out of the kitchen.

“Thank you,” you say to them both as you stand in the hallway that leads to the front door. “Dinner was fantastic. I had a great time.”

Yoongi just nods, and you can tell by the look on his face that he does not take compliments well. His ears are turning pink, and he’s biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile; you’re sure of it.

“Oh, you’re shy now?” you chuckle then, unable to stop yourself from teasing him just a bit.

Hoseok cackles, which makes you laugh more, and Yoongi simply stands there, his ears a bright shade of red now.

“No. I just hate compliments,” he says, “but you’re welcome.”

“I’m assuming it was you who texted me earlier about the driver,” you add. “So, you have my number now. You can text me whenever, if you want.”

Yoongi purses his lips before responding. “I’m not much of a texter.”

“Yoongi,” Hoseok says, giving him a pointed look.

Yoongi sighs. “Yeah, okay. I’ll text you.”

Hoseok smiles triumphantly then, clearly pleased by Yoongi’s agreement.

You smile softly at Yoongi before Hoseok places his hand on your lower back and guides you down the hallway to the front door.

When you reach the door, you slip your boots back on, and Hoseok hands you each of your winter items so you can put those on, too. When you finish bundling up to leave his apartment, he pulls you into another hug.

“Thank you for being patient with him,” he says quietly. “He’ll adjust.”

“Yeah, of course,” you respond.

“And thank you for earlier, in the kitchen. When you got the plates and chopsticks for him. He won’t say it.. but he appreciates that kind of thing,” he adds.

“Just seemed like the right thing to do,” you say, brushing it off.

Hoseok lets go of you then, just looking at you for a second.

“I already texted my driver. He’ll take you home.”

“Hoseok.. really? I can get home on my own,” you argue.

He raises an eyebrow at you, looking at you like that’s the dumbest thing he’s ever heard.

“It’s dark, and it’s freezing outside. I don’t want you to have to take the subway. Seriously, just take the ride home.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, nodding. “Okay. Thank you.”

“And, also.. start calling me ‘Hobi.’ Or anything other than ‘Hoseok,’ really. You sound like my mom.”

You laugh, nodding in agreement. He gives you his signature heart-shaped smile then, opening his front door and pressing on your lower back to guide you out.

“I’ll text you. And I’ll make sure he does, too,” he tells you.

You smile at him before heading downstairs.

The drive to your apartment is notably much quicker than taking the subway, and much more comfortable, so you’re thankful, despite being stubborn about it earlier. Once back at your place, you undress and get ready for bed, thinking about how the evening went.

You’re still a little confused about Yoongi, but he was noticeably different tonight. Maybe it was because he was more at ease with Hoseok there. That’s probably the most likely reason. But it may have also been because you actually had time to talk and get to know each other a little.

Regardless, you’re glad tonight went well. You feel more confident that you might be able to get through to him eventually. It’s just going to take time, which you have a lot of at the moment. So you decide you’re going to do whatever it takes to get him comfortable and okay with you going on the tour with them. He might not end up being your friend, but you at least want him to be civil with you, which he actually did a good job of tonight. You’re starting to drift off to sleep when your phone buzzes on your nightstand. You pick your phone up, squinting at the screen in the darkness to read the message.

Yoongi: thanks for listening tonight. i know i talked a lot about music. but i appreciate it.

A small smile crosses your face at the message.

Okay, maybe it won’t be so hard to get through to him, after all.

~~

“Spill,” Sol orders, nearly bouncing in her spot on the bed the three of you are currently occupying.

Sol and Eunchae have been sharing a room throughout the tour so far, dancers usually doubling or even tripling up at each hotel according to the tour manager’s strict room assignment list. You came to their room after the concert in Mexico City just like Sol had asked, and now you’re very much in the middle of what’s going to end up an interrogation, you assume.

“I don’t really know what there is to tell,” you say, uncertain how to even begin.

Eunchae rolls her eyes. “We’ve all seen it. How some of them dote on you. What’s the story?”

“Where do you want me to start?” you relent.

Sol beams. “From the beginning. Tell us everything.”

You put your head in your hands, gathering your thoughts before you start.

You tell them how you’d applied for the job after hearing about it from a friend of a friend, how Hybe’s lawyers and BTS’ management had talked you through the job description with a very lengthy contract meeting, and how you were given a six-month trial period to get to know the members before everyone made a final decision on whether you’d come on the tour with them.

Sol listens intently, hanging on every word you say, while Eunchae just snacks on something greasy she’d bought from a street vendor near the hotel. She definitely isn’t as interested in this story as Sol is.

“So, you’re just- following them around on tour, doing whatever they need,” Eunchae confirms, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Well.. yeah, I guess. That’s the gist of it,” you say in agreement.

“As a ‘companion,’” she confirms.

“Officially, as an assistant. But, yeah, pretty much,” you say, nodding.

“So, like, excuse my bluntness, but- are you gonna fuck them?” Sol blurts out.

You cough on a breath of air, eyes widening slightly at her accurate description of how blunt that question was.

“Um- it’s barely been a month since the tour started,” you say.

“That’s not a denial, babe,” Eunchae points out.

You groan, rubbing your temples.

“I don’t know.”

But of course, that answer isn’t good enough to satisfy Sol’s curiosity.

“Jimin-ssi looks at you like you’re his favorite person on the entire staff, you know,” she points out, “and I’ve seen him kiss your cheek more than once.”

“So?” you ask.

“So, he definitely wants to hit it,” Eunchae cuts in.

Sol giggles, throwing herself back against the pillows on the bed.

“You two are impossible,” you groan again, rolling your eyes.

“But, like.. that’s a possibility, isn’t it?” she asks, not bothering to sit back up.

You chew your lip, deciding how to answer that question.

“Okay, look.. this cannot leave this room. Got it?” you say, trying to sound as stern as possible, but knowing you’re probably not doing a great job at that.

“Our lips are sealed,” Sol promises. Eunchae nods in agreement.

“When I met Namjoon for the first time.. he asked me the same question. Because apparently it’s happened before, with people they’ve hired for previous tours. I told him I’d be open to it, but I didn’t make any promises,” you explain.

“But you would, if the opportunity presented itself?” Eunchae asks.

“I don’t know! I feel like I barely know them. And none of them have really acted like they would want that. Well, none except..” you trail off, still feeling a little iffy about giving any of these details away.

“Except who?” Sol squeals, bolting upright and grabbing your hand excitedly.

“You can’t leave us hanging after you saying that. Who?” Eunchae chimes in.

“Well.. I mean, I guess I don’t know if he’d be interested to that extent, but.. Taehyung kissed me.”

Sol’s eyes widen. “He did? When?!”

“Tonight. During the last break.”

“What about Jimin-ssi, though? Earlier you said there was a story,” Sol asks. “Has he kissed you, too?”

You shake your head.

“No. Almost, though. Back in Tampa. But we’d been drinking, so.. he didn’t,” you explain.

“So you’re just gonna.. make your way through the whole group over the next year?” Eunchae asks, sounding a little too bitter for your liking.

“Chae!” Sol scolds her, looking at her like she’s offended on your behalf.

“What? I’m just asking,” Eunchae says, raising her hands placatingly.

You aren’t sure how to answer that. It’s a valid question, regardless of how crudely she’d asked it. You don’t have a chance to come up with a response before Eunchae is making another comment.

“I’m just saying.. I don’t know if I could just- throw my self-respect out the window enough to be okay with doing that. But that’s just me.”

“Girl, what the fuck?” Sol chides.

Your brows furrow. She’s being blatantly rude about your job now, but you don’t really want to create drama right now, so you hold your tongue. Mostly, at least.

“Well, we all have different morals, I guess.”

Sol looks at you then, choosing not to say anything else to Eunchae’s passive aggressive statement.

“So- tell us about Taehyung-ssi. Is he a good kisser?” she asks, changing the subject with a lot more grace than you would’ve managed on your own.

You chuckle then, feeling your face flush a little.

“It wasn’t, like, this super passionate kiss or anything. It was.. sweet. But yeah, I’d say he’s definitely not a bad kisser,” you answer.

“You know.. the fans have a nickname for him,” Sol points out.

You know exactly what nickname she’s referring to.

“Nope. That’s the end of this conversation. Okay, goodnight!” you say, chuckling as you get up from the bed.

“Ugh, you can’t just—!” Sol argues, but she’s clearly not mad, a smirk on her face as she watches you get ready to leave.

“Bye!” You shut down her argument playfully, leaving their room.

You go back to your room and get ready for bed for the night. In the middle of washing your face, your phone vibrates.

Kook: you kissed Taehyungie?

Okay, then. Obviously, more than one of them knows what happened tonight. More than likely, they all do. But Jungkook is the first one to say anything outright to you about it.

You: um.. did he tell you that?

Kook: no, he didn’t have to. i could see it all over his face earlier.

You: does that bother you?

Kook: no, noona. just means i can, too, right? :)

Oh. Alright, then. Jungkook has always been the shyest of the group, although not so much with you. He’s affectionate, always wanting to cuddle or hold your hand when you’re together. But he’s never really been that type of affectionate with you.

You: you know i can’t say no to you, kook. :)

Kook: good.

You definitely just gave Jungkook permission to kiss you. But you aren’t mad about it. He’s cute. And you’re not lying. When he looks at you with that wide-eyed puppy look, you know you’d give him the world just to see him smile. So, if he wants to kiss you.. you won’t deny him. Not even a little.

Yep, things are definitely changing now that Taehyung opened the floodgates.

Which is completely fine with you.

The morning light was too bright, cutting across your kitchen table where you were trying to sip your coffee in peace. Jungkook’s shadow fell over you before you even heard him, his presence like a shift in the atmosphere. He didn’t say good morning. His hands slid under your sleep shirt, palms hot and possessive on your bare waist, hiking the fabric up as he bent you back over the wooden surface. Your coffee cup rattled in its saucer.

“Daddy’s got a long day planned for his baby,” he murmured against your mouth, his kiss deep and tasting of mint and something darker. His fingers found your heavy breasts, squeezing the soft weight of them, thumbs rubbing over your nipples until they were tight, pebbled points against his palms. You whimpered into his mouth, a sound he swallowed greedily.

His hand slid down, over the soft curve of your belly, his touch worshipful and claiming all at once. He pushed your sleep shorts and panties down your thighs just enough, his fingers slipping through your folds, finding you already wet for him. “Always so ready for me,” he growled, low and satisfied. “Even first thing in the morning. My greedy little cockslut.”

He didn’t bother undressing. He just unzipped his jeans, freed his cock—already thick and hard—and pushed into you in one slow, inexorable slide. You gasped, your back arching off the cool table. He fucked you like that, slow and deep, each thrust a deliberate claim, his hands groping and kneading your breasts, your stomach, your hips. His eyes were dark, locked on yours, watching every flicker of pleasure on your face.

“Gonna fill this pretty pussy up,” he promised, his voice rough. “Keep it warm for me all day. Think you can do that? Think you can walk around Hybe with my cum inside you, dripping out of you, remembering who you belong to?”

You were close already, his pace maddeningly slow, the stretch of him exquisite. “Daddy…please…”

“Please what?” he taunted, pinching a nipple, making you cry out. “Come on my cock? Go ahead. Squirt all over it. Let me feel you.”

You did, with a broken sob, your body convulsing around him as the pleasure ripped through you, wetness soaking his jeans and the table beneath you. He followed immediately after, his rhythm stuttering into a final, deep grind as he emptied himself inside you, groaning your name like a curse. He stayed buried in you for a long moment, catching his breath against your neck, biting lightly at the skin.

When he pulled out, you felt the immediate, empty ache, the trickle of his release. He reached for something from his pocket—a small, sleek silicone plug. He coated it with the mess between your thighs and pressed it into you, your sensitive walls clenching around the foreign object. “There,” he said, wiping his fingers on your thigh. “Keep it warm. Don’t you dare let it fall out.”

You squirmed, the plug settling deep, a constant, lewd reminder. “Jungkook…why are you being so…we’re going to see your friends.”

He grabbed your jaw, his grip firm, tilting your face up to his. His eyes were blazing. “So you remember,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. He leaned down and bit your lower lip, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to sting, to claim. “So you remember who this sweet cunt belongs to. Who gets to hear you moan. Who gets to fill you up. Me.”

He slapped your breast once, a sharp, stinging smack that made you yelp, then he gently tugged your shirt back down, smoothing the fabric over your curves. He helped you up, your legs shaky. “Now get dressed, princess. We’re going.”

Hybe was a maze of clean lines and quiet hustle. Jungkook kept you close, his arm a heavy band around your waist, his body a shield between you and the world. You knew why. You’d seen the comments on obscure forums, the vile speculation about any woman seen near them. He wasn’t embarrassed of you—the way he devoured you with his eyes every chance he got proved that. He was terrified for you. The thought of that hate being directed at your softness made him murderous. So he kept you tucked away, a cherished secret, which sometimes made you ache with a stupid, insecure loneliness. But then he’d come home, his control shattered, and fuck you until you were sobbing his name, painting his skin with your squirt, your body so full of him you could taste it. That’s how you knew. It wasn’t a sweet love. It was a dark, all-consuming possession.

He deposited you in a common area with a soft kiss to your temple. “Be good. I have to work. I won’t be long.”

You found Namjoon in one of the smaller lounges, a book of poetry already open on the table between two cups of tea. Your friendship with him was easy, born from a shared, quiet passion for words. He never looked at you with anything but warm respect. Today, you were deep in discussion about the symbolism in a particular poem, your heads bent close over the text, your voices low. You were laughing at one of his dry observations when you felt the temperature drop.

Jungkook stood in the doorway. He wasn’t smiling. His expression was cold, closed off, his jaw tight. “Y/N. Come with me.”

Your heart sank. “Is everything okay?”

“Now.”

You shot Namjoon an apologetic look. He just nodded slowly, his eyes wary. You followed Jungkook’s stiff back down the hall to his personal studio. The moment the soundproof door shut behind you, the atmosphere crackled with violent tension.

He didn’t speak. He walked to his studio chair, sat down, and pulled you onto his lap, your back to his chest. His arms were like steel bands around you.

“Jungkook, what—”

His hands went to the hem of your top, yanking it down in one harsh motion, taking your bra with it. Your breasts spilled free into the cool air of the studio. Then his hand came down on the soft swell of one.

Smack.

The sound was loud in the quiet room. You jolted, a gasp trapped in your throat.

Smack. On the other one.

“Daddy…what are you doing?” you whispered, trying to twist to look at him.

He bit the junction of your neck and shoulder, hard enough to bruise, silencing you. “You were awfully close to Namjoon,” he growled into your skin, his hands now kneading the flesh he’d reddened. “His face was right there. Smiling at my girl.”

“We were just talking about poems,” you pleaded, trying to keep your voice down, horrified at the thought of someone hearing.

“I don’t give a fuck.” His hand slid down your belly, under your skirt. He hooked his fingers in your panties and ripped them off you. The cool air hit your plugged pussy, and you clenched around it instinctively. He saw it, his eyes darkening. He brought his hand down on your exposed folds.

Spank.

You bit your lip so hard you tasted copper to stop the scream. The pain was sharp, layered over the deep-seated ache of the plug, a confusing burst of sensation.

Jungkook’s breath hitched in anger. “Trying to hide your sounds from me?” He reached forward with one hand, and you heard a familiar click. The recording light on his interface console glowed red. “Let’s fix that. I’m going to record every moan, every scream, every wet little sound this perfect pussy makes. So I can listen to it whenever I want. Because I own it. I own all of you.”

Humiliation and a treacherous spike of arousal washed through you. “Daddy, please…behave,” you whimpered, trying for sweetness, for control you didn’t have.

It backfired. He groaned, a feral sound, and latched his mouth onto your neck, sucking a brutal hickey into your skin while his fingers found your nipples. He pinched them, hard, then pulled, stretching the sensitive peaks until tears welled in your eyes. A ragged moan finally escaped you, echoing slightly in the studio room, captured by the mic.

“That’s it,” he panted against your wet skin. “Let them all hear how my baby sounds for me.” He spread your legs wide with his hands, his grip on your plush thighs bruising. With his other hand, he found the base of the plug and pulled it slowly from your clutching heat. A gush of his earlier release leaked out onto his jeans, the scent filling the space between you.

He didn’t wait. He freed his cock from his pants—massive, thick, and already painfully hard—and notched the head at your dripping entrance. Then he shifted his grip, locking his hands under your knees and behind your neck, holding you open in a brutal, exposed full nelson. You were completely at his mercy.

“Remember this,” he commanded, his voice cold as ice even as his body burned against yours. “Remember who fucks you like this. Who ruins you. It doesn’t matter if he’s my brother. You don’t get that close. You don’t smile like that for anyone else. You’re mine.”

And he slammed up into you.

The scream that tore from your throat was raw, unfiltered, recorded for eternity. He was so deep, so impossibly big, the head of his cock battering your cervix with every brutal thrust. The wet, squelching noises from your joined bodies were obscenely loud. You could feel your own slickness soaking through his jeans, coating your thighs.

“My pretty fucking princess,” he snarled, his composure shattering into pure filth as he fucked up into you. “Taking my cock like you were made for it. Look at this fat pussy, swallowing me whole. Gonna be sore tomorrow. Gonna feel me for days.” He licked a stripe up your neck, biting at your earlobe. “And when we get home, I’m not going easy on you. I’m gonna bend you over every piece of furniture we own. Gonna fuck this jealous ache out of my system and into yours until you can’t even remember Namjoon’s fucking name.”

You were babbling, half-sobs, half-pleas. “Daddy! Daddy, it’s too much…I’m gonna—!”

“Do it,” he demanded, pounding into you, his pace relentless. “Squirt on my cock. Show me what you do for me. Do it now.”

The command, the overwhelming stretch, the dirty, possessive words sent you over the edge violently. Your vision whited out as you came, a torrent of release gushing out of you with such force your entire body spasmed, legs kicking weakly in his grip. You screamed, a continuous, shattered sound as the waves of pleasure-pain rolled through you, your pussy milking his cock uncontrollably.

It triggered his own climax. With a final, ground-shaking roar of your name, he buried himself to the hilt and came, his hot release flooding your depths, mixing with your own. He held you there, impaled and shaking, for what felt like an eternity, both of you panting ragged breaths into the silent studio.

Slowly, he let your legs down, his grip gentle now. He pulled out, and a rush of combined fluids spilled onto the leather chair. You were boneless, whimpering. He turned you on his lap to face him, your tear-streaked face meeting his intense, sated gaze.

He didn’t speak. He leaned forward and scooped two fingers into your messy, gaping pussy, gathering a mix of his cum and your slick. He brought them to your lips. “Open.”

You obeyed, eyes fluttering shut as he pushed his fingers into your mouth. You tasted yourself, salty and sweet, and him, musky and familiar. He fucked your mouth gently with his fingers until you’d cleaned them, then pulled them out with a wet pop.

He reached for the plug, still slick from before, and pushed it back inside your well-used hole, groaning at the tight clench. “Keep the rest warm,” he ordered, his voice hoarse. “This greedy pussy doesn’t get to waste a single drop. I’m not done with you.”

Then his demeanor shifted again, into something terrifyingly tender. He bent his head and kissed each of your heavy, sore breasts, his tongue swirling around your abused nipples. He kissed the soft swell of your belly, nuzzling into you. He fixed your clothes with careful hands, wiping your thighs clean with a tissue before pulling your panties back up (the torn ones discarded) and smoothing your dress down.

He stood, lifting you easily in his arms, a princess carry that made you bury your face in his neck. He smelled of sweat, sex, and Jungkook. He carried you out of the studio, past curious glances in the hallway that he ignored, all the way to the private parking garage and into the passenger seat of his car. He buckled you in, kissed your forehead with a shocking softness, and got in the driver’s seat, starting the engine.

The ride home was silent, but the promise in the air was thick and dark. The plug in your pussy kept you achingly aware. You were his. In every dirty, possessive, terrifying way. And the day was young.

(full version contains jungkook taking you home, bounding you with ropes, fucking you in front of the mirror all night long until you pass out and still fucking you in your sleep.

tags for full version: rough makeout, bondage, ropes, Jungkook finger fucks your mouth, strong Jungkook, jealous Jungkook, extremely possessive Jungkook, face fucking, cum marking, deep throating, Jungkook covers you in his cum basically, tits biting, nipple clamps, almost fisting, you start drooling and hiccupping from pleasure, breeding kink, Jungkook calls you his wife, doggy style, mirror sex, ass spanking, hair pulling, body marking, Jungkook writes his name on your belly above your womb, cum inflation, body worship, body licking, daddy kink, husband kink, you pass out, you wake up to Jungkook still fucking you, looong marathon sex, oversensitive pussy, pussy licking, body kissing, aftercare.)

ᴳᵉⁿʳᵉ : College AU, Fwb-to-Lovers, Fluff & Intimacy, conffesion (featuring an insufferably clingy boyfriend-to-be).

​ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ : Sleep-deprived Jungkook being a menace · kissing, biting etc · Over-the-clothes touching & zero respect for personal space · Playful teasing & casual vulgarity · Light angst regarding college reputation · Complete academic sabotage (he does not care about your exam).

word count: 3.1k · masterlist link

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The obnoxious yell of your alarm tears through the quiet of your dorm room like a siren. You drag a hand across your cheek, wiping away a streak of drool before blindly reaching across the mattress and swiping at the red button, silencing the torture.

With a groan, you decide that adulting is a scam and prepare to flop onto your other side to execute a solid fifteen minutes of blissful procrastination.

You roll over. You open your eyes. Then you immediately blink, squinting through the morning blur to get a clearer picture, because something is definitely not right today.

Jeon Jungkook is completely passed out on his stomach right next to you.

He’s buried deep under your girlish, baby pink duvet, occupying 75% of your bed without a single care in the world. His face is turned toward you, pillow-smushed and framed by a chaotic nest of messy dark hair. His back muscles are completely relaxed in slumber, and he isn't wearing a shirt.​

Which is entirely your fault, considering you're currently drowning in his oversized T-shirt, stolen off your floor after your intense midnight make-out session. (Strictly because you just love the smell of his stupidly good fuckboy cologne.)

You stare down at him, your brain running through a mental checklist of things that are wildly off:

1. It’s morning.

2. Lectures start in an hour.

3. Jeon Jungkook is still here.

4. Jeon Jungkook is never still here in the morning when lectures start in an hour.

Normally, Jungkook is a ghost by now. He has a habit of sneaking out before the sun comes up, mostly because he has a reputation to uphold; Campus "fuckboy," heartbreaker, guy-who-doesn't-do-mornings. And honestly, you’ve been more than fine with that arrangement. If the girls down the hall caught him slipping out of your room, you’d never hear the end of it and your low-profile college existence would be officially over.

​Yet here he is. Looking stupidly peaceful.

"Jungkook," you hiss, jabbing your finger directly into his exposed shoulder blade. "Jeon. Get up."

He groans, and lazily swats your hand away, then he turns his head slightly, burying his face deeper into your pillow without opening an eye.

​"Jungkook, I'm serious," you mutter. "I'm trying to save us from a social disaster,"

He doesn't answer. You look down at him, your gaze tracing the softness of his sleepy face when he isn't trying to look cool and shit. Your eyes eventually settle on the tiny mole just beneath his bottom lip.

Without thinking, you reach out. Your index finger lightly presses against the brown spot.

Jungkook doesn't pull away. Instead, his lashes flutter, a tiny, subconscious smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as your fingertip lingers there. He shifts slightly, sliding one arm around your waist and dragging you back down into the center of the bed until your hip is pressed flush against his side.

Positioned a bit higher on the mattress, your chest sits just above his head. He buries his face directly into your stomach, nuzzling into the cotton of his own tee. The sudden movement sends a flurry of butterflies straight to your belly, catching your breath in your throat for a sharp second.

"Hey," you protest weakly, though you let yourself be pulled into his warmth. "I mean it. You're supposed to be gone."

"Five minutes," he grunts.

"No," you say firmly, trying to ignore the way your pulse rises. "I am not falling for this. If you are so exhausted, go back to your own bed."

"M'not that tired," he lies smoothly.

"Right," you deadpan, rolling your eyes as your fingers naturally drift up to run through his messy hair. "You can barely talk."

"I can talk fine,"

"You're not even fully awake," you point out, as your fingers tug gently at the roots of his hair.

He finally squints one eye open, looking up at you through a mop of unruly curls, and flashing you a lazy smirk. It's the exact look that usually gets him whatever he wants. The playboy look.

"I'm awake enough to do other things," he murmurs, his hand sliding down from your waist to grip your hip firmly, his thumb digging into the bone through the fabric.

Your fingers freeze in his hair. You look down at him, your cheeks warming. "You're stupid," you murmur, completely flustered and hating how effortlessly he does this to you.

Jungkook just gives you a knowing smile, and shifts slightly, tilting his head to press a kiss right over your covered stomach. He then pulls back just enough to look up at you, his dark eyes hooded and still heavy with sleep.

"You stress too much, Y/N"

"That's because you stress me out,"

He chuckles sending a vibration directly against your body. You are melting into the mattress, and you both know it. Shifting his weight, he pushes up onto his hands, moving effortlessly to hover entirely over you, blocking out the pale morning light creeping through the blinds with his shoulders. He dips his head, pressing a open-mouthed kiss to your exposed collarbone.

"I can make you relax real well, too," he teases, his breath fanning hot over your skin as his lips trace up the column of your neck.

"No need," you gasp out, trying to push at his chest, but your weak protest is entirely ignored.

​Jungkook drops his head lower, and a embarrassing sound escapes your throat as he lightly nips the sensitive skin right where your neck meets your shoulder. His hand slides all the way up your ribs, slipping his fingers beneath the hem of the shirt, his palm finding your bare skin and pushing upwards to firmly cup your breast.

You feel dizzy instantly when his thumb brushes over you. God, he's so good at this. Of course he is. He's Jeon Jungkook. Someone that shouldn't be here.

You get lost in the sensation. In the way his mouth latches onto the sweet spot of your neck. His tongue licks over your skin before his lips create a heavy suction, marking you. You know full well he is leaving a hickey there; claiming you in a way a casual hookup shouldn't be allowed to. You will have to hide the mark with concealer and collared shirts for the next five days. But right now, as his teeth lightly drag over the bruised skin, you can't even find the energy to care. You tangle your hands back into his hair, gripping the strands tightly as your eyes slip shut.

​You never, ever thought you would end up like this with him. If someone had told you six months ago that you would be risking your entire quiet college existence to become just another body count for Jungkook, you would have laughed in their face.

But look at you being a breathless mess beneath him, completely dismantled as he uses his mouth and hands to manipulate you into staying in this bed forever. Jungkooks lips are hot, dragging down your jaw to bruise the junction of your neck once more, making your toes curl into the sheets.

But enough is enough.

Gathering whatever little willpower you have left, your fingers tighten around his hair, giving a forceful tug that pulls his head back, forcibly pulling his mouth away from your skin, stopping him from continuing to abuse your neck.

"Ah," Jungkook whines softly at the sharp pull on his scalp. He blinks up at you, his lips swollen, and slick from kissing your neck. "What?"

​"That's it," you declare. "No more. I have an exam first class today."

​Jungkook’s brow furrows, his head resting heavily against your chest. "Fuck the exam."

​"I am not fucking the exam, Jungkook," you hold his face back by his hair so he can't bury it back into your neck. "I spent the entire week studying until two in the morning for this. I am not about to miss it because you're feeling lazy."

​He rolls his dark eyes, a small, sleepy scoff escaping him. "Of course you did, nerd."

​"I am not a nerd," you glare down at his insufferable face. "I just actually care about my future. Unlike some people who think they can slide through life on a leather jacket and a pretty smile."

​Jungkook doesn't argue. Instead, his gaze drops from your eyes down to your parted lips, taking his sweet time tracing the flushed skin of your jawline down to the fresh hickey he just left on your neck. You narrow your eyes at him, sensing the trouble brewing in his head.

​"Jungkook," you say warningly. "I mean it."

​He flickers his eyes back up to yours, perfectly mimicking an innocent expression, right up until you feel his hand slide smoothly down, slipping straight beneath to the elastic band of your panties. Your eyes widen in instant panic. You yank harder on his hair, but he barely winces.

​"Kook! Stop—"

​"Shh," he mutters. "You're a smart girl. Your bright, shiny future isn't going to fall apart because of one stupid exam."

You try to shift away from him, to twist your hips out of his reach, but the sudden pressure of his middle finger pressing against your heat betrays you entirely. A pathetic, helpless moan escapes your throat. Your back arches involuntarily, head falling back against the pillow in surrender.

​Capitalizing on your moment of weakness, Jungkook shifts his weight up, managing to press a kiss along your jawline right up to your chin while his fingers move in a intoxicating rhythm below.

"Jungkook, stop, really—I just—I just want to get good grades," you gasp out as a dizzying surge of heat rushes straight to your core.

"I know, baby," he coos against your chin. "You're such a good student. So smart...I'm so proud of you."

"You piece of shit," you manage to choke out. "You don't care about my grades... you're just trying to shut me up so I don't kick you out!"

​Jungkook lets out a low laugh, unbothered by the insult because he know that it's entirely true.

​Refusing to let him win this round, you reach down, wrapping your fingers firmly around his wrist and using all your strength to pull his hand away from between your legs. Recognizing the real edge of annoyance in your grip, and realizing you genuinely want to make it to class, Jungkook finally gives up. He sighs heavily, letting his hand drop uselessly onto the sheets, though he makes absolutely no effort to actually get off of you. Instead of moving, he simply collapses his entire torso flat on top of you, burying his face directly into the crook of your neck.

​"You are so fucking unavailable, you know that?" he mutters with a dramatic mix of a pout and genuine exasperation. "I don't think I've ever had to compete with a syllabus before."

​"Move, Jungkook," you say, giving his bare shoulder a shove that doesn't budge him even an inch. "I'm serious. Off."

​"Can't we just stay like this?" he murmurs tiredly, his voice muffled against your collarbone.

​"No" you say firmly. "Some of us have responsibilities."

​"Responsibilities are overrated," he grumbles, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as if physically pins you to the bed. "Just sleep in. Skip the day with me."

You sigh, resting your chin on top of his head as your hands mindlessly massage his scalp. You look down at the popular campus fuckboy, currently clinging to your waist like a giant koala in a pair of basketball shorts. You smile softly to yourself, shaking your head in total disbelief.

​"You know, for a guy with a terrifyingly high body count and a strict 'no-sleeping-over' policy, you’re incredibly clingy when you're almost unconscious," you say, your voice dropping into a teasing purr. "Is this just part of your usual morning routine with everyone?"

​"Not unconscious," he corrects. "And I don't do this with anyone else."

​Your hand freezes in his hair for a fraction of a second before you recover your cool, dry tone. "Right. I’m sure you tell all the girls who you let steal your clothes that they're special."

​Jungkook doesn't laugh like he usually does. Instead, he opens his eyes and looks up at you with an intensity that makes your stomach do a ridiculous flip.

​"I don’t leave my shirts with anyone else," he says quietly, his thumb lightly trace the hem of his t-shirt collar resting over your collarbone. "And I don't stay past five in the morning."

​You raise an eyebrow. "So what, you're just terrible at time management now?"

​Jungkook lets out a faint sigh. He pushes himself up slightly, propping his weight on his forearms so he can hover right over your face.

​"No," he mutters, his gaze dropping to your lips for a split second before locking back onto your eyes. "I like it."

"You like what? Ruining my reputation?"

"I like waking up next to you,"

"...What?"

"I like that I don't have to put on a show when I'm here. And... I don't really want to sneak out anymore."

"Jungkook," you start carefully. "We're friends. With benefits. Excellent benefits, sure, but—"

"I don't care about the label we started with," he cuts in.

Before you can pull up another defense, he shifts his weight, sliding closer until he is hovering just millimeters over your lips, trapping you in his space.

"You're joking," you whisper, trying to force out a nervous laugh, though it gets hopelessly caught in your throat. "You're sleep-deprived and delirious. You're just talking."

Jungkook doesn't get frustrated or roll his eyes. Instead, he presses a sweet peck right to the corner of your mouth, followed by another soft kiss directly to your bottom lip.

"I'm not joking, Y/N," he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours with every spoken word. He's leaning in fully, using every kiss, every lingering touch to work his way straight past your defenses, trying to capture your heart. "I haven't been joking about us for a long time."

You blink at him, your mind racing. "Right. And what about your usual crowd? I'm supposed to just forget the fact that half the university thinks you're taking a different girl home every weekend? I don't really feel like believing a guy who—"

​Jungkook lets out a weary sigh, a faint scoff escaping him as he pulls back just enough to look you dead in the eye.

​"I don't give a shit about other girls," he says, his dark gaze unwavering. Then, a wicked little spark flashes in his eyes as a teasing smirk tugs at his swollen lips. "Honestly? My cock doesn't even really react to anyone else anymore. It's kind of a problem."

​An unexpected, loud snort erupts from your nose. "Oh wow, how romantic, Jeon." you wheeze out, your face burning a deep shade of red as you bring both hands up and shove hard against his bare chest, finally summoning the strength to sit up in bed.

Jungkook lets out a dramatic whine, but he follows your lead, propping himself up on his hip and tilting his head like an overly curious puppy, his messy fringe falling into his eyes.

Even with your back pressed against the headboard, you can't escape him. He lazily reaches out, his hand finding your thigh through the baby pink duvet, slowly massaging the soft flesh in soothing pattern.

"What?" he asks, flashing a cocky eyebrow at your red face. "Are you scared?"

"I'm not scared," you snap back defensively, wrapping your arms over your chest. "It's just... people will talk. If we do this...if we become an actual thing, the entire building will be talking about it. People are going to have opinions. Your reputation isn't exactly subtle."

"Let them talk," he says simply. "Who cares?"

You stare at him, completely at a loss for words. You look at his stupidly handsome face, the sculpted lines of his abs, and the genuine warmth in his dark eyes. As annoying as he is, and as much as he drives you insane with his lingering, his smirk, and his complete disregard for your schedule, you really do enjoy having him around.

Over the last few months, your chest had started aching with a uncomfortable sting whenever you saw him strutting down the college hallways, having to pretend he was just a stranger because of the strict 'no-strings' rule you both set. You hated not getting to talk to him. You hated watching him walk away.

​Jungkook notices the shift in your eyes, reading the subtle crack in your armor like an open book. He leans in, closing the distance between you once again. His hand slides up your thigh, giving your leg a squeeze as his lips press into yours. The kiss is slow, melting away the last lingering threads of your resistance.

​"So?" he murmurs between soft presses of his mouth. "You in?"

​He nips at your bottom lip, dragging it gently with his teeth before releasing it with a pop. You let out a shaky breath, and taking advantage of your silence, Jungkook leans close to your ear, voice dropping into a whisper.

​"Or are you really going to reject me, Y/N?" he rasps, his warm lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Gonna break my poor, fragile heart?

​You pull back just enough to glare at him, your lips mere inches apart. "Says the guy who spent the last two semesters playing with half the campus's hearts."

​"I won't play with yours," he answers instantly, dropping all the playful teasing, completely serious "I promise."

​You look at him for a long second, taking in the genuine honesty in his doe eyes.

"Okay," you whisper softly.

Jungkook’s face instantly lights up. A triumphant smile breaks across his lips. "Okay?"

​"Okay," you repeat.

​Jungkook lets out a low, victorious hum, wrapping his arms around your waist and forcefully tackling you backward onto your back. You squeal as your head hits the soft pillows, the breath knocked right out of you as his massive frame settles comfortably on top of yours once again, pinning you to the mattress.

​He peppers quick, affectionate kisses all over your face; your cheek, your forehead, the tip of your nose, and lastly along your collarbones.

"Good," he murmurs, supremely pleased with himself. "You're my girlfriend now," he mumbles happily against your skin. "Deal with it, nerd. Now go ahead and cancel that exam so we can sleep."

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

𐙚 header image/gif sourced from pinterest & edited by me

SIX MONTHS AGO |

You should have known better not to allow yourself to sink too far into that cloud of happiness, because it seemed that you weren’t destined for sustained periods of it. 

The news had come less than twenty minutes after you and Taehyung had reached some level of understanding and peace, just as you were about to nod off into a nap against the security of his chest as he held you close on the sofa, an old black and white movie playing quietly in the background. 

Taehyung’s phone which was lying on the table started to emit a series of frantic buzzes that went on for a couple of minutes. He started off by ignoring it, but the sound just didn’t go away. It was apparent that whatever it was couldn’t wait, and with a groan Taehyung eased himself forward, careful to keep you close as he reached for the phone and flipped it open. He let out another grumble and tutted before pressing answer. 

“This better be important,” he said firmly. “I’m−.”

Immediately Taehyung’s spine straightened, and you eased yourself up as you felt his body go rigid, his hand around you stilling from the soft caresses he had been giving your shoulder. 

“How the hell did that happen?” Taehyung said, looking over at you, his eyes displaying annoyance and worry. “I thought you had it taken care of.”

He listened a moment, before dragging a hand through his hair. “Aish!” he yelled. “Now what?” 

Taehyung listened carefully for the next minute to whatever was being said on the other end, every so often cursing or speaking in low, urgent tones in Korean. You didn’t know what to do, but something had definitely happened that Taehyung was majorly rattled about. You reach for his hand, taking it in yours and sidling up beside him. 

He sighs and turns to you, placing a soft kiss at your temple and squeezing your hand. A few minutes later, he comes off the phone and looks you right in the eye. The way he’s looking at you so apprehensively has your nerves rattled. “Tae−,” you say, “What is it?”

He takes a deep breath, his face sombre. “Someone took photos,” he begins. “At the bar. Of us together.” He bites at his lip. “They posted it on the internet. People recognised the place, and now there are people where you work looking for you −well, us.”

You stare at him blankly for a second, trying to take in the gravity of the situation. It falls on you slowly and little by little, panic starts to surge in you. “Oh God, no!” you gasp, one hand flying up to cover your mouth. “No, this can’t be happening!”

“Hey, hey−,” Taehyung says, bringing you to him, his strong arms winding around you protectively. “Relax, okay. My staff are sorting it. I will take care of it, I promise. Just trust me.”

“How will you sort it?” you ask, barely able to keep your voice from rising hysterically. “My picture is out there. Everyone is going to know where I work, they’re not going to stop hounding me! I’m not going to bbe able to work there if that happens. I’ll lose my job and then how can I pay for my apartment−.” You bury your face in your hands. “Oh my God −this can’t be happening! It can’t!”

“Y/N,” Taehyung says sternly. “I will take care of it. Nothing’s going to happen. My team say that it’s best to be silent, let the gossip run its course. So what if there’s a video? It’s us talking, nothing else. It doesn’t mean anything, I am allowed to talk to people.” He curses in Korean again, muttering something else under his breath. “We aren’t doing anything that could implicate you with me, okay?”

You look back at him, afraid to believe that this might all go away. A part of you is also crushed that things had to be like this with him. Why did you have to be kept away like a dirty secret he was ashamed of, that he had to hide from the world? You understood what his positon entailed, and how being revealed to everyone could backfire on both him and his band, and also on you —but you would be lying if you said it didn’t jarr you a bit within. 

You nod unsurely. “Okay.”

“I won’t be able to come to your workplace for now,” he says glumly. “Not until this all clears −perhaps not ever again.” 

He says the last part so remorsefully that you feel bad for him. But you also can’t help but feel a slight relief in a way that you wouldn’t have to deal with any more jealous explosions like the one earlier. Maybe it was best he stayed away from The Midnight Lounge and this was a blessing in disguise. 

Taehyung might have millions sitting in the bank and more than one roof to put over his head and enough food to feed an entire continent on tap −but you didn’t. The last thing you needed was friction at the place that paid your bills. As much as you liked Taehyung, he was definitely friction. 

You give him a wan smile. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “You’re busy anyway. We’ll still see each other.”

“Hm,” he hums quietly. “I guess.”

Both of you settle back onto the sofa, but there’s something in the air again, something that keeps you on edge and unable to go back to the nap you were about to take. You start to get the feeling that Taehyung having to stay back from The Midnight Lounge was going to be problematic. 

“Hey, Y/N,” calls Ava impatiently. “Earth to Y/N!”

You look over from your task wiping down the bar counter, reverie broken as you smile at her. “Hm?”

“I asked you to throw me that cloth like a trillion times,” she complains with a tut. “Where is your head lost at?”

You sigh, reaching for the duster and walking over to Ava. “Here,” you say. “I’m sorry, I was miles away.”

“No shit,” she says, eyeing you curiously. “What’s up? Wanna talk about it?” 

But that was the trouble, you couldn’t talk about it. Two weeks ago, Taehyung and someone from his legal team had cornered you one evening after work, and in the back of your new boyfriend’s car, you had been asked to sign a NDA. 

Party B is to keep the existence of the relationship confidential unless authorised to discuss it.

Party B must not share or discuss private information about Party A, his family, friends, or colleagues.

Party B is forbidden to post photos, videos, screenshots, messages, or identifying details on social media. 

Party B must not reveal current or future locations, travel plans, schedules, accommodation details, or security arrangements.

Party B must not photograph, film, record, or livestream private interactions without permission.

Party B must keep all texts, emails, voice notes, video calls, and other communications confidential.

Party B must not disclose information to friends, family members, media outlets, bloggers, influencers, or any other third parties.

Party B must not discuss unreleased music, projects, business activities, endorsements, or professional matters learned through the relationship.

Party B is not authorised to make public statements that could damage Party A’s reputation or public image.

Party B must delete or return confidential materials if requested.

Party B must maintain confidentiality in the event the relationship is terminated. 

Party B must not acknowledge that breaches may result in legal action, financial penalties, and court orders preventing further disclosure. 

Party B is prohibited by this agreement to speak to journalists, documentary makers, publishers, media organisations or press in general about the relationship without prior approval.

Party B must keep confidential any information concerning other group members you may be exposed to, staff, management, or associates encountered through the relationship.

Party B must not reveal details of private events, backstage access, security procedures, residences, or personal routines.

The list was endless, pages and pages of small print and addendums you were far too tired and stressed to dredge through with a fine-toothed comb. Taehyung had informed you that he could hire an independent lawyer for you so that you understood exactly what the agreement set out. You had politely declined. 

You had signed it of course, knowing that such things came hand in hand with the territory, but you would have much rather have had Taehyung actually talk to you about it first rather than putting you on the spot like that. Taehyung hadn’t brought it up again once his legal representative was gone, but the mood had felt somewhat off after that. 

You couldn’t help but get the sense that he had only sought the introduction of the NDA because of his inability to visit you at work, but you couldn’t be certain. All you knew was that you didn’t want to rock the boat by asking him, so you had kept it all in and continued on. 

“I‘m fine,” you tell Ava, putting on your best smile you could muster. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”

You werent lying exactly, you did feel shattered. Since you had started seeing Taehyung, you seemed to be even more tired than ever. It wasn’t so much the physical side, it was the mental drain that was getting to you. It felt heavy and awkward, like you were constantly worrying about whethe you would make a mistake, always wondering what his next question would be, and even though he had been advised not to return to The Midnight Lounge, you knew Taehyung well enough by this point to know he wasn’t exactly predictable. The last thing you needed was problems not just at work, but also with both your faces splashed all over the internet. 

“Girl, I’ve known you for how long?” Ava said, hands on her hips, staring at you with total disapproval and suspicion. “I know when you’re hiding something. And I can tell you’re hiding something from me right now. So come on, what is it? I’m not letting up until you tell me, and you know how long I can go on for.”

You shake your head, suddenly feeling emotional. It wasn’t fair that you weren’t allowed to confide in anyone, not even your closest friend, while Taehyung could probably talk to anyone he chose. 

You hadn’t seen Taehyung in a week, not since you’d signed the damn agreement, and you were feeling isolated and alone. It wasn’t your fault he wasn’t able to come to see you at work, and it wasn’t your fault that the press had seen him here the last time. But lately you’d been feeling like everything was down to you. 

Ava’s voice is softer this time as she moves round the counter and puts an arm around your shoulder. “Y/N,” she says gently. “What’s happened?”

You fight to blink tears back from your eyes under Ava’s watchful gaze, but it’s too hard. “Oh, Ava,” you sob, finally breaking, the depth of everything overtaking you as you bury your face into her shoulder. “I’m sorry— I can’t,” you sniffle. “I can’t say anything to you.”

“Hold on, what do you mean you can’t?” she says, rubbing your back soothingly, concern apparent in her tone. “Who says you can’t?”

You pull back and wipe back tears with the back of your hand, quickly attempting to pull yourself together. You’d already revealed far more than you should have. “Nothing,” you say. “There’s nothing to say, Ava. Please, can we just drop it.”

She nods seriously. “It’s him, isn’t it?” she says. “Golden boy. What’s he done? Has he done something to you?” Her voice rises in annoyance. “If he has, I swear to God I’ll fucking kill him, I don’t care whether he’s an idol or fucking whatever he is.”

“No!” you deny emphatically, “No, it’s not Taehyung. He hasn’t done anything, I swear. It’s not him, okay?”

You can tell she doesn’t believe a word that’s coming out of your mouth. That’s one of the reasons you were such close friends with Ava, her fierce loyalty and her ability to smell bullshit a mile off. But you had to put her off this time. If you told her you’d signed an NDA she would probably hit the roof and you didn’t want any more aggravation. 

“I’m not buying that,” she says carefully. “Ever since he walked in here last time and caused all that fuss, you’ve been acting weird. All quiet and stuff. He’s not one of those assholes who’s all nice to our faces but hurts you behind closed doors, is he?”

“Of course not,” you say sharply, suddenly feeling protective towards Taehyung. 

Ava holds up her hands defensively. “Okay, I’m just checking,” she says. “I had to ask, as your friend.”

“Please, Ava, I know you mean well but you’ll have to trust me,” you tell her. “Taehyung isn’t hurting me, okay? Everything is okay, there’s just a few things we’re sorting through right now. That’s all. It’s just stuff between us, nothing to worry about.”

Ava considers this a moment before finally she nods. “Alright, Y/N, I’ll leave it here, for now,” she tells you. “But you just tell me one thing. Are you happy?”

You’re quiet for a beat. Sure things could be running a bit more smoothly, but what else could you expect from seeing one of the biggest celebrities in the world? There had to be some bumps in the road, right. But whenever he held you, when you buried your head into his chest and inhaled his scent, feeling his strong, protective arms around you and heard the way he whispered your name in his rich, deep, unimitable voice —there was nothing else you wanted more. 

“Yes,” you whisper, smiling softly. “Yes, I am.”

FIVE MONTHS AGO |

There was something off with Taehyung. 

Ever since he had come back, he had seemed distracted and broody. Conversation had been laced with an edge that sometimes made you feel like you were walking on eggshells around him. You couldn’t even remember the last time he had smiled, like really smiled. 

He had barely called or messaged. It wasn’t exactly a super-busy time for the band, and from what you understood from Taehyung’s vague discourse, most of them had gone to their respective homes for some downtime with family and friends −meeting up for just a few select projects for future release. 

The problem seemed to be further exacerbated by the fact he had to hold himself back from coming to see you at The Midnight Lounge. You had been right about envisaging problems there. Clipping his wings where the question of seeing you was concerned didn’t sit well with him. He had asked you to send him your work rota, telling you it was so that he could plan time to see you when you were free −but over the past week, he had only arranged to see you twice. 

Each of those were barely an hour each time and at his apartment, where he had been distant and cagey, as if he were holding himself back from you for some reason. He hadn’t even come to collect you personally, opting for sending a car instead to fetch you. The first time you had put it down to keeping things hushed, but at the second time and coupled with the way he had been, you were no longer sure. Still, you hadn’t wanted to push, hoping that he might share whatever the problem is, but he hadn’t said anything. Taehyung had put on music, spent far too much time on his phone and the minutes in between in relative silence. 

Even when he’d kissed you goodbye after dropping you off home before flying out on a solo endorsement project, he had held back, opting for a chaste brush of his lips on your cheek both times and without leaving his car. By Friday, the tension had reached an unbearable point when after you had sent him no less than five messages over the past twenty-four hours that had received no response, despite the read receipt clearly indicating your messages had been seen.

You question yourself repeatedly, wondering if you were going in too hard, but the truth was that you could feel something wasn’t right, and you needed to know what it was. You replay and re-replay every interaction between you that you can remember, combing through each one with painful thoroughness, searching for a clue as to what might have caused everything to change. 

Peaceful sleep had evaded you since Tuesday when you had last seen him. You were quiet and clumsy at work, uncharacteristically breaking at least three glasses that had somehow slipped from your fingers, your mind overworked and tired of worrying that he had gotten bored of you or something. Now you were wondering whether he was ghosting you, the thought leaving you sick to your stomach. 

For the millionth time that day, you pick up your phone and stare hopefully at the display, refreshing your messaging app. Your heart dropped all over again when once more nothing new shows up from Taehyung. He was due back today. Was this normal, you think. Was this how it might be from time to time when you were seeing someone of the magnitude of Taehyung’s fame? Were you supposed to just take it in your stride and think nothing of it? If so, how? 

No, you shake your head, it couldn’t be. That didn’t explain his strange mood, or how off he was being since last week. Tonight was your evening off, and instead of doing anything with your limited free time, you had been sitting perched on the edge of your bed for the last hour, staring at the cursed phone like some demented schoolgirl. 

You howl with anguish and annoyance at yourself, and throw your phone down in frustration, the weight of all your emotions compounding to crush at your heart and throw you into uncontrollable turmoil. You had to know, one way or another, if Taehyung was done with you. This was torture, and you couldn’t stand it for another moment. Tears sprang to your eyes as you collapse back onto your bed and snatch up your phone again. 

No messages this time, you were going to call him directly. He couldn’t do this to you, it was unfair. With trembling hands, you bring up his number and hit the dial button before you can talk yourself out of it. Your heart races as tentatively you listen to the first ring on speaker, then the second −by the third, your courage falters spectacularly, and your thumb hovers over the end call sign, ready to cut off. 

“What if I go in disguise?”Taehyung said. “I could wear a mask or something. I’ve done it before, remember that time in Madrid? Almost nobody recognised me.”

But his protests were met with silence by the faces that surrounded him. “That won’t work,” his manager said. “It’s not just you we need to think about, Taehyung.”

He groaned exasperatedly. “Come on, guys. You can’t expect me to be banned from going to where my girl works forever,” he went on. “This is ridiculous. I have the right to go and see her.”

“You aren’t banned,” clarified another member of management staff. “But you know what happened last time. Do you have any idea of the lengths we had to go to just to keep that contained.”

“Aish, fuck this!” he raged. “Do you know she’s in there almost every damn evening, with that bunch of—.” 

Taehyung slammed the table with frustration, startling the room. Why was he bothering? This was his relationship and his life. The Midnight Lounge was just a bar, and if he was unable to go there, then surely the remedy would be a simple one. 

“Just forget it,” he said as he stormed out of the office, “Y/N shouldn’t be working there anyway —she doesn’t need to.” 

An hour later, Taehyung returned to his apartment, his mind heavy with thoughts. He knew he would have to approach this sensitively, Y/N hadn’t exactly seemed enamoured with the whole NDA situation. 

He poured himself a glass of wine that he didn’t exactly have a feel for, and switched on some music as he began pacing the floor. He thought about the future, and the slow, inevitable intensification of the connection he had found with her. He knew he could push her, align her with his plans, knowing how far she would willingly follow. He could see it in her eyes, the way she gave herself to him so completely. 

But— Taehyung glanced at his watch— she was at work right now. Right in the busiest time of the evening, when The Midnight Lounge would be heaving, bodies pressed tight at the bar, congregating in every corner and spilling out through the doors and into the street. Her attention would be on every outstretched hand and every call for her service, thrust right into the midst of the frenzy of Friday night in the city. 

His mind raced with unwelcome scenarios. What Y/N was doing, who she might be talking to, or whether someone else had dared to look at her the wrong way, say something that crossed the line. Jealousy gnawed at him like a rat, subtle but sharp, a constant reminder that she was his.

He sank into the couch, replaying every second of her presence. Every glance, every brush of her hand, every flush of her cheeks —each one felt like a possession that he stored carefully in the most precious part of his memory. 

Taehyung imagined Y/N thinking of him whenever she looked towards the doorway, wondering whether she hoped he would walk through them. Did she remember feeling the same pull, the same tension that he did. He imagined how it felt to hold her close, breathing in her scent and claiming her in quiet, unspoken ways. 

His need was growing and unrelenting, and he hated that he had to be miles away from her when he needed to be with her the most. Now that he was back, he wasn’t even able to go straight to her. She may as well have been on another planet. He missed her so much, and he hated this dumb arrangement. 

It had bothered him so much that he had barely contacted her. She had messaged a few times, but what could he say back? How could he ask her what he really wanted to ask her without driving her away? So he had left the messages unanswered, he would talk to her in person. It was late now, it would be better to wait until they were both well rested, and then he would talk to her about The Midnight Lounge. 

He’d been a little annoyed with Y/N anyway. She had barely raised an objection at him not being able to come and see her at work and that had stung. In fact, she had seemed positively fine about it. Perhaps having the company of assholes like the one he had seen her with the last time he was there softened the blow. Maybe she didn’t miss him at all when she was at work, laughing and joking with random morons who gave her the time of day. 

Taehyung threw back the wine, wincing at the taste. It wasn’t the best, strong and bitter. His mood had been shitty anyway coming off a flight filled with the craziest turbulence he had experienced in ages, but now he felt even worse. He wished she were here, but she wasn’t. She was with everybody else but him. Just like she always was. 

He cursed out loud and plonked the wine glass on the coffee table. No more of that. He’d take a shower instead, maybe that might make him feel better. Just as he was about to get up, he felt his phone buzz beside him. 

Just as you are about to press down to end the call, the ringing stops and you hear silence. You’re so shocked that you’re stunned into being quiet too, barely breathing as your heartbeat thumps wildly against your ribs. 

Then−

“Y/N,” comes that voice you had been craving to hear, deep and sensual, and your stomach somersaults ten times over. 

Relief swamps you almost as much as your need, and you clutch your phone tightly, bringing it towards your ear, eyes closing shut and longing to hear him say your name again. You’ve missed him so desperately it feels as if you’ve had a limb missing in his absence. Yeah, you hadn’t known Taehyung for the longest time, but the impact he’s had on you has been so intense you couldn’t imagine how life had been without him. 

“I−,” you breathe, your voice croaking out finally as your eyes flutter open. “−I just wanted to…” For some reason, nothing you had wanted to say makes its way from your head to your mouth, and you swallow helplessly. “I messaged you.”

You hear Taehyung sigh. “I know,” he says, his tone so flat you can’t tell what emotions he’s conveying. The fog of confusion that has been hovering over your head descends on you once again. He clears his throat, and you hear him turn the music he has playing in the background down. Was he at his place? “I’ve read them,” he adds. 

The thought that you had been longing and aching and wishing to see him so badly for the past few days while he was casually listening to music at his apartment ekes out a frisson of annoyance from you. You want to ask him where he is, but that too doesn’t find its way out either. Instead, you hear yourself say, “You didn’t reply. I wasn’t sure if you had seen them−.”

“You know I’ve seen them, Y/N,” he interjects, and now he sounds almost bored. “I’m sure you know the basic functions of a cell phone.”

His tone stuns you, and you feel the sarcasm of his words slice at you horribly. You wince, and more anger that doesn’t spill out simmers within you. 

“I thought you might be busy with work, or other things,” he says. “I was surprised you messaged me at all, and now you’re actually calling me. Weren’t any of your friends there to talk to?”

“What?” you exclaim, in genuine shock. What had your friends to do with anything? “I don’t understand−.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Taehyung says impatiently. “We both know how happy you are with them, having a great time at work I’m sure. I bet it’s lots of fun, especially now that you don’t have to worry about me showing up and taking you away from them.”

“Tae, that’s not fair,” you say. “Sure, I have friends, and yeah, it’s nice that work doesn’t have to feel so tedious because we have each other there. But that doesn’t mean I don’t wish you could be there too, with us.”

Taehyung scoffs. “With them?” he echoes in disbelief. “Is that how you imagine a relationship to be like? You, me and your friends?” He gives a snort of laughter. “No, Y/N −I won’t share you, and I won’t split the little time we get together with your friends.” 

“That’s not how it is!” you protest. “Please, Tae. You’re not being reasonable. My friends haven’t done anything wrong, and neither have I −why are you saying these things?” 

You’re finding it hard to keep the feeling of annoyance and disbelief from your voice now, which rises a couple of octaves as you rack your brains for whatever it could be that has Taehyung behaving this way. You had given him your time without interruption away from work, but at work you weren’t at liberty to have excessive PDAs or devote all your time to just him. You were working, with friends or otherwise.  

“How has work been the last few days, hm?” he asks. “Has he come back there again −that guy you used to work with before, the one who you couldn’t leave alone. Smiling and joking like he’s who you want.”

“Oh God,” you groan. “—James? That was ages ago now, why can’t you just let it go. We’re friends, that’s all we have ever been or ever will be!”

“I didn’t ask for his damn name,” Taehyung bites sourly. “If not him, what about anyone else? Some other guy you have waiting in the wings when I’m not around, someone you might think of when you’re touching yourself just like you did when I wasn’t there.”

“Please stop this, Tae,” you plead. “Please, don’t say things like that. There isn’t anyone else. Just you.”

He sighs again. “How can I believe that?” he asks. “−When I’m hardly there and you are always surrounded by all these men who just keep fucking hitting on you, showing you that they want you, buying you drinks, flirting, looking at you like they want to… fuck!” 

“Tae−.”

You hear something thud, a fist against the wall maybe, a kick at something −a venting of his frustration, and that white hot jealousy that is rife in the tension between you. “I fucking hate this,” he says. “I hate that I can’t see you whenever I want, be around so that none of these assholes even dare to breathe in your direction.”

“You have to stop this,” you whisper. “Please, Tae. There is nobody else, you have to believe me! All that is just part of my job, it means nothing to me. I don’t even pay attention to it, and you shouldn’t either. It’s nothing.”

“No, Y/N,” he states grittily. “It’s not nothing. How can it be? Do you expect me to have all these guys stare at my girl and feel nothing? Shall I keep quiet and pretend it’s fine that they all think they can have a piece of you, that you are there not just to serve them drinks but to fucking smile and put up with their disrespect? How the hell do you want me to do that, huh? Tell me?”

All of a sudden, it’s all unbearable. You can’t breathe, your thoughts are swirling around in a vortex inside your mind, and your heart aches so painfully with the absence of gentleness and affection from Taehyung. His jealousy is like a thick, heavy blanket that covers you, trapping you beneath it without even a sliver or air. It’s hard to ascertain whether Taehyung is feeling jealous because he genuinely likes you that much or whether he’s just being territorial in that way men can be. 

You decide you simply don’t care right now because it hurts too much —so you release the reins and let go. “But I have to, don’t I?” you snap. “What do you think it’s like for me? You have women wanting you everywhere you go, probably throwing themselves at you at every place −how do you think that makes me feel when I’m not with you? How do I know you’re not— God, Tae! I can’t do this, I can’t—!”

Your throat tightens, the words sticking, and a sob escapes you, before the barricade that had been holding back your tears all week finally comes crashing down and you burst out crying. 

Taehyung’s reaction is immediate. You can hear the panic and remorse in his tone as he calls your name repeatedly. At last, something resembling genuine care, but it only makes you cry harder. You cast aside the phone and reach for the nearest pillow, smothering it over your face in an attempt to stifle your relentless tears. 

“Y/N−,” Taehyung persists. “Please, stop crying. Please, baby −I can’t bear it. I’m such an idiot, I’m sorry, baby.”

Even if you had wanted to, which you don’t, you wouldn’t have been able to get out a single word to reply to him. Your sobs intensify, as does Taehyung’s attempts to cajole you. “I’m an asshole, I don’t deserve you,” he says, “−Please, come on. I’m here, okay? I’m sorry, please, baby. Please don’t cry. I’ll come over and we’ll talk, yeah?” 

Still, you can’t speak. He sounds so beautifully comforting, so devoted, so caring and sweet, and there is nobody else in the world whose arms you would rather rush into. You wish he was here, holding you in his strong, tight embrace, telling you everything would be okay, but on the other hand, you wish you could cease to feel anything for him. Surely that would be far easier than this. But the moment you have that thought, you push it away even through your tears, because you know exactly what he has come to mean to you. 

“Okay, baby−,” Taehyung says decisively realising that his attempts to pacify you were limited through the lines of technology. “You stay put, don’t hang up, okay −I’m coming over there. Don’t go anywhere, please. Let me come to you.”

You don’t protest. It’s all you really want. 

You sit quietly, unsure how the night would unfold. 

Half caught in the anticipation of seeing Taehyung again, waiting for him to be standing at your door, wanting to see you. The other half of you however was worried, a heavy feeling unfurling at the pit of your stomach.  

Taehyung had sounded genuinely like he cared, like he hadn’t wanted to hurt you. But had your tears guilted him into coming? Is that the only reason he was rushing to see you? Some sympathy visit, not one that he had really wanted to make. You shake your head in annoyance with yourself. You were overthinking everything lately, and it was driving you crazy, leaving you confused. You needed to trust in your relationship, and trust in Taehyung. 

Your phone buzzes, startling you. You snatch at it, eyes eagerly scanning the display only to see that it was a message from Ava to tell you she had to make an amendment to the rota for an appointment. You can barely concentrate on reading the text, and uncharacteristically you don’t reply straightaway. Instead, you put the phone to one side and start rocking on the sofa as if you had been holed up here like a trapped animal and were starting to go nuts. 

Since Taehyung had come off the line, you had rushed to change outfits and done a rush job of makeup on your tear-blurred face, not wanting him to find you anything less than he was used to. But you’re tense and on edge, unsure what to expect when he arrived. It wasn’t quite the way you had wanted to see him again. 

When your intercom sounds, you still for a moment, suddenly undecided whether you’re really ready to see Taehyung again as your heartbeat crashes so hard against your ribcage. However, before you can overthink things, you’re already on your way to open the door. 

You forget to breathe when pull the door back and you first see him. He’s even more stunning than you recall. Dressed casually in simple jeans and a white t-shirt, teamed up with a brown leather jacket, he looks every inch the fashion icon he is fast becoming. But as you look into his eyes, you can see the tiredness and the worry, the darkness that has also been filling you. 

He takes you in, surveying your face intently as if trying to check for anything that might give away your current state of mind. “Y/N,” he calls, as he steps inside and removes his shoes in a hurry. He moves fast and in seconds, he’s right in front of you, hands already on your shoulders, sliding up to cup your face. 

In your tiny apartment, Taehyung seems larger than life, the place feeling smaller around you as he holds you, as if the walls themselves have contracted around the tension between you both. He regards you with the intensity of a predator marking its territory. His gaze is sharp, scanning you from head to toe, noting every detail with a precision that makes your skin prickle.

“I came as quickly as I could,” he says suddenly. “Are you okay?”

“I—” you whisper, your voice faltering under the weight of his stare. 

He moves closer, his breath fanning against your cheek. It does something to your insides and you gasp softly, but then the scent of wine hits you and you look up. “You’ve been drinking?”

“I had a glass,” he replies. “It’s nothing.”

“You didn’t call,” you say softly. “You didn’t even let me know you were back. Why?”

Taehyung stares back at you with dark, stormy eyes that make your stomach drop, cupping your face in his hands and raising it upwards. “You know why,” he replies, his words dangerously low. “You must know.”

You reach for his forearm, shaking your head slowly. You didn’t know. You’ve replayed everything a billion times over until your head ached. But you hadn’t done anything to merit him being distant with you, avoiding calls and messages, acting as if you didn’t even exist. “No—,” you whisper, wanting to bridge the calm between his darkness and your calm. “I don’t know. Have I done something you don’t like?” 

Taehyung looks at you with a strange expression, as if he can’t quite fathom why you don’t know what he means. Your voice rises slightly in desperation. “Have I forgotten something?” you ask, angry tears springing into your eyes. “Has something happened? I don’t know, I promise you, I don’t know, so tell me!” 

The tears linger dangerously on the brink as you look up at him pleadingly. “Just tell me —please— because this is driving me crazy.”

Taehyung’s expression changes instantly the moment he watches the tear roll down your cheek, and in an instant, he’s pulling you to him with a strong grasp, burying your face into his chest as his arms tighten around you, enveloping you in an embrace. “No tears, baby,” he murmurs both placating and fierce all at once. “I can’t bear to see you cry.”

He strokes your hair with a gentle touch, soothingly shushing you as your body slackens in his arms. Your hands snake their way around his narrow waist as you press your face to the warmth of him that you can feel through the fabric of his sweater, inhaling his scent, wanting to feel the safety of him and his affection. 

“Why didn’t you answer my messages?” you sniffle tearfully. 

“I wanted to,” Taehyung says finally, still stroking the back of your head. You can feel the steady thumping of his heartbeat against your cheek as you turn your face and wipe at your nose. “I just thought you wouldn’t have time for me, that you were busy with your— your work.”

You tense a little, pulling back from him. “Why would you think like that?” you ask. “I wasn’t at work the whole time. You know that.”

“Yeah, but it just feels like you prefer to be with your friends anyway,” Taehyung says flatly. “I didn’t want to feel like a third wheel or get in the way.”

“What do you mean?” you say exasperatedly. “I was waiting for you, Taehyung. I missed you, I wanted to hear you. I messaged you like five, six times. You could have sent just one reply.”

He wasn’t even making sense now. What did your friends have to do with anything? What was Taehyung thinking he would get in the way of? The frustration you start to feel penetrates you like an ugly blade, threatening to contaminate the happiness you feel at seeing Taehyung again. 

He seems to sense your hesitation, alert to the slightest doubt or change in your demeanour, and it fuels the fire that has started to burn in his eyes. 

“Don’t give me that, Y/N,” Taehyung says. “I know you have much more fun with those people than you do with me. I doubt you missed me that much when they were around.”

You push away from him, shaking yourself free of his grasp, as slowly you start to see what might be getting under his skin. But it makes you defensive and indignant. This had nothing to do with your friends, they were innocent. There wasn’t anyone who posed any threat to Taehyung, so you can’t understand why he was behaving this way. 

“What’s the matter with you?” you snap. “Why do you hate my friends so much? What have they even done to you? It’s not their fault you aren’t able to come over there. That’s your own fault. If you hadn’t acted the way you did the last time, then maybe—”

Taehyung suddenly grabs your wrists that’s more warning than touch. “You don’t get it, do you?” he says firmly. “This isn’t about your friends, not really. This is about you, Y/N.”

You struggle for a second, shock registering in your face, unable to even say anything. But his strength is far superior to yours, so you quickly stop, your breathing quickening as he dips his head closer to yours. 

“When you aren’t with me, what do you think that feels like for me, hm?” he tells you, his eyes thunderclouds. “Do you think I go off and never give you any thought? What you might be doing, where you are —with who?” 

“You know where I am,” you say quietly. “If I’m not at work, I’m at home. You know who my friends are, you know I wouldn’t—”

“No, Y/N, I don’t know,” he interjects stubbornly. “You could be with anyone at any time, and I wouldn’t even know because you’re not with me, are you? You’re a million miles away sometimes, at the other end of the world. And even if you tell me you miss me, even if you say that you’re my girl, how can I really know you mean that?”

His eyes darken further, the irises like onyx as he stares into your face, like some beautiful demon who has come to take your soul. A soul you would give him willingly. 

“There are times I think about you when I can’t even breathe, Y/N,” Taehyung hisses, his baritone voice deeper than ever, like the rumble of an impending storm. “Knowing any of these guys who look at you like they have the fucking right to can take you away from me at any moment, because I’m not there by your side, to protect you, to protect us. It’s like poison, baby.”

“Tae,” you say brokenly, reaching up to stroke his cheek, the intensity of what he’s saying rocking you to your core. 

A strange little knob of what feels like fear twists in your stomach, but beneath it is something darker: an addictive, thrilling pull toward him. He terrifies you, yet you crave this. You crave him, this obsessive, all-consuming love that borders on madness. You slide your hands up the hard heat of his chest, trying to calm him, to anchor him. 

“I’m yours,” you whisper softly, as if you’re talking to a horse that might bolt at any second. “Only yours. No one else matters.”

Taehyung doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes snapping to yours, heavy with accusation, and you shrink slightly under the weight of his possessiveness.

“I hate this,” he mutters finally, almost to himself. “I hate having to be away from you. I hate you working in that damn place. I hate all of them, for existing in the same space as you do when it’s me, just me, who should be the only one. 

His words are jagged and sharp, and you flinch instinctively. “You don’t have to hate anything, or anyone,” you say gently, stepping closer, pressing your body to his in a silent plea. “It’s you I want to be with; you should know that.”

His hands find your face, fingers curling along your jawline, thumbs brushing your cheeks as though memorizing every angle. His gaze pierces you, searching, accusing —demanding. “I can’t stop it,” he says, voice rough with need. “Even for a second, if I think about anyone looking at you, talking to you, laughing. It eats me alive. Do you know what that feels like?”

“Please, Taehyung,” you urge, heart hammering. “You have to believe me.”

He tilts his head, almost like he’s testing you, searching for cracks or weaknesses. “How can I?” he snaps suddenly. “I need more, Y/N. I can’t lose you to anyone, do you understand?”

“You won’t, I promise,” you insist. 

His voice drops into a low growl, expression set with barely restrained frustration, “You’re always surrounded by people,” he says. “All those guys, just hitting on you, looking at you all wrong, chatting to you because they think they have a chance. Not knowing about me, about us and what we have.” He exhales. “I can’t be there all the time, and now I can’t even come and see you whenever I want.”

The raw intensity of his words makes your chest tighten. There had always been something in the way he was, something fixated and intense, but hearing it spoken aloud like this, feeling the depth of his jealousy, shakes you to your core. 

You wrap your arms around him, resting your head against his chest again, feeling the rapid thrum of his heartbeat that beats as wildly as your own now. “You can,” you tell him, “You can come and see me anytime, when I’m finished with work —at home, anywhere else.”

For a moment, he goes still, and for a moment it feels as if the tempest in him has calmed just enough for you to breathe. But then, in the blink of an eye, Taehyung’s lips capture yours in a kiss that’s less affection and more claim. Violent, desperate, and all-consuming, like a reminder that you belong to him entirely. You cling to him, letting yourself be consumed, lost in the dangerous pull of his obsession.

When he pulls back, he doesn’t release you. Instead, he buries his face in your neck, inhaling deeply, almost as if he’s trying to take you into himself, right down to the last scent and sound. “You won’t leave me, right?” he breathes against your skin, rough and trembling.

“No,” you say softly. “No, I won’t leave you.”

His hands tighten on your waist, pressing you closer. “I want to believe you, Y/N, I really do. I’m scared somebody is going to try and take you from me. Someone… anyone” He pauses for a beat, his fingers splaying at the small of your back, voice dropping to a tone that vibrates through your chest, “If anyone ever tried to take you from me, I wouldn’t just watch. I wouldn’t just—” His words falter, raw with emotion. “I couldn’t sit back.”

A shiver runs down your spine. Part of you is afraid of what he might do if someone did try, but there is a part of you that feels that familiar thrill, the dark exhilaration that draws you to him. You clutch his arms, pressing your body to his, feeling the tight coil of obsession and desire binding you together.

“I don’t want anyone else, Taehyung,” you whisper. “Just you.”

Slowly and deliberately, he trails his hands down along your body, over your shoulders and down your arms, as though he’s ensuring that every inch of you belongs to him. You remain still, letting him, because you know that resisting would only spark the storm again. You want him too deeply to fight.

“I need to see it,” Taehyung says finally. “I need to see it to know it’s real. That you’re really mine, and mine alone.” Your eyes meet his and somewhere inside you, you feel that connection that seems to pull you to him. He tilts your chin up with the crook of his finger. “You have no idea what you mean to me, Y/N. You’re everything.”

And in that moment, despite the suffocating possessiveness, despite the dark edge to his love, you feel the raw, undeniable intensity of his need. It’s dangerous and terrifying, but it also binds you to him in a way nothing else ever could. 

You let him hold you, possess you, consume you because you’ve fallen so easily. Wanting him so fiercely that even when his jealousy claws at the edges of reason, you remain tethered to him completely. No matter how all-consuming he was, it’s with him you want to be and nowhere else. 

“Then tell me,” you say. “How can I show you?” 

Taehyung dips his head and steals the most tender of kisses from your lips. “I want you to stop working at the bar,” he says. “I want you to quit…”

PRESENT DAY |

What Taehyung had meant when he said he had to go somewhere became a whole two weeks away. Fourteen days and counting, peppered with sparse, brief couple of line messages in abbreviated text format, no kiss or even a smiley emoji. Calls were even lesser, once in the first week and twice the second week. 

You tried to tell yourself that he was busy, he was in another time zone, that he wasn’t avoiding you. But you felt every second of absence, every day that passed without hearing from him, wondering what he was doing without you, and it hurt right at the centre of your heart. You hadn’t want to seem like a stalker, bothering him endlessly, but truth be told you had had to sit on your hands to stop yourself from calling him sometimes. 

Ever since that evening, the way he’d watched you touching yourself, he’d seemed to be distancing himself from you again. Your cheeks flush at the memory, heated embarrassment coursing through you. Had you done something wrong? Had he hated it? Did he think less of you now? God, you wanted to see him more than anything, but he hadn’t even told you when he was due back. Soon, he’d said vaguely, but that was over a week ago. You didn’t want that soon to become forever. 

Your phone vibrates suddenly and you jolt, startled. To your surprise, it’s Taehyung and you answer it immediately, eagerness and dread filling you all at once. The unpredictability of things with him had become a staple for you now, like a rollercoaster of highs and lows that you were riding in the dark, unable to get off. 

“Tae?” 

“Hey, baby,” comes his familiar voice. His mood sounds light, more like the Taehyung you missed hearing, the contrast to the sombre, low tone you had heard of late. “How are you?”

You clutch the phone to your ear, touched by the sweetness in his voice. “I’m good,” you tell him. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Where are you?”

He gives a small laugh. “I’m closer than you think,” he says mysteriously. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yes!” you gasp breathlessly, heady at the prospect that maybe you might see him again soon, all the doubts and worries of the past couple of weeks evaporating and disappearing into an almost make-believe nothing. “Tell me where you are!”

“You missed me, huh?”

“Yes!” you squeal. “I missed you like crazy!” 

“That’s my girl,” he says. “I’ll send a car for you. I want you to get ready, okay? You probably have about thirty minutes before the driver reaches you.”

“Oh my God!” you cry. “No way! You’re back? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”  

“I’m back,” he confirms with a dark chuckle. “I wanted to surprise you. Now go and get ready. You don’t have too much time.”

“Yes, sir,” you say playfully.

“Oh, and Y/N—” Taehyung says. “Wear that black underwear I got you from Paris. I want to see you in it tonight.”

You blush to your core, your body coming alive instantly, that ache between your legs budding and spreading rapidly as you picture the exquisite lace set that he had gifted you unexpectedly for your four-month anniversary. Taehyung had told you to save it for a special occasion, and your senses heighten with anticipation as to what it could be. 

You can almost feel the heat of his gaze on you burning through the phone and you hum a soft moan. “Yes, Tae—"

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He was trying - but not as hard as you would’ve liked and you wondered if the fact that you’d given him exactly what he’d wanted was he no longer interested.

But Jungkook was a decent guy you reminded yourself, he was attentive and caring and had been from your first encounter, plus this was all so new to you - the dating and the talking stage and situationships – so you had no idea what was normal and what wasn’t.

All this over thinking was exactly why you were sitting at a house party chugging cheap vodka like it was going out of style. Well, it wasn’t just anyone’s house, it was Namjoon’s to be exact which was exactly why Taehyung was in the corner chatting up some brunette with a beautiful face and perfect body. You had sat watching him with a scowl on your face – wasn’t he the one who had said he couldn’t stop thinking about just a few days ago? It wasn’t like you cared or anything - you definitely did not. What you two had done was strictly business for lack of a better word.

Still, you sat there, feeling bitter and unwanted.

Taehyung and Jungkook could have any girl they wanted.

You weren’t sure why you kept lumping the two of them together in the same thought but if Taehyung touched the brunette’s arm one more time you felt you might just snap.

Jungkook wasn’t even here, which was why you must’ve been paying so much attention to Taehyung – you were simply bored – yes that was it.

However, he was on his way, and you would soon stop focusing on the way the brunette laughed a little too hard at Taehyung’s joke and hit his arm playfully.

The alcohol burned its way down your throat as you finished your cup, you made your way to the kitchen to get a refill and saw Namjoon doing the same.

“Hey Joonie, this is great party!” You said hugging him.

Namjoon let out a low chuckle. “Someone is a little drunk huh?”

You pouted and shook your head “Sober as a judge my friend. Sober. As. A. Judge.”

Namjoon looked at you a little questioningly one eyebrow raised. “Whatever you say ______. Where's Tae?” He asked craning his neck into the living room.

You scowled “Why would I care?”

“I don’t know ______, maybe because you two are friends and usually hang out at parties.”

Maybe you were letting your emotions show a little too much at Namjoon’s harmless questions, but any attempt at hiding anything was about four vodkas ago.

“He can do what he wants.” You said as you decided to shot your drink.

“Did you two fight or something?” Namjoon asked, he was looking at you with slight concern in his eyes.

“Nope.” You answered, you were being short with him, but you were becoming increasingly more irritated at all the Taehyung talk.

“Hm. Sure. What about JK then? Where is he?”

You poured yourself another drink. “He’s on his way. Said he’d be here soon.”

Namjoon nodded and took a sip of his drink; he was in uncharted territory trying to navigate moody, drunk you.

“You two still seeing each other?”

That was it, your breaking point. It shouldn’t have been, but it was.

“Jesus Joonie! I don’t know!” You said storming out of the kitchen and making your way up to the bathroom.

You slammed the door and locked it needing a moment of silence. You put the toilet lid down and sat on it putting your head between your legs. You were going insane, it was the only logical explanation.

Nothing was this complicated when you were still a virgin, you should’ve kept it that way.

As you sat back up you took a moment to breathe, nothing had really changed, you were being dramatic. Taehyung was still your friend and Jungkook was still a guy you’d been on a couple of dates with. Except you’d fucked your friend, and it had been consuming you just as much as when you’d fucked Jungkook – maybe even more.

You heard a knock on the bathroom door and it made you jump.

“Someone’s in here.” You shouted through the door, wishing whoever was on the other side would leave.

“It’s me _______.” Taehyung’s voice cut through your thoughts.

God. Why?

“Let me in _____. Did you fight with Namjoon or something, what the fuck was that?”

You stood up and opened the door, dragging him inside by the wrist and shutting it tight, turning the lock.

“Why are you shouting that through the door Tae, people will hear you and think I’m some sort of drama queen.”

Taehyung let out a low scoff. “Well ______, if you saw the way you stormed up those stairs - you would see that you actually are being a drama queen.”

“Oh fuck you.” You hissed out at him.

Taehyung looked genuinely surprised. “Fuck me? Why am I catching strays? I thought Joon was the one you were mad at.”

You held your hands up. “Jesus Tae, I didn’t fight with Namjoon, okay?”

“Alright alright ______, are you okay though?” He asked, raising his hands in defence.

“Yes Taehyung, I’m fine okay, go fuck that brunette you were talking to and leave me alone.”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow at you. You watched him as he assessed your mood.

“Just like how you went and fucked Jungkook?”

Your eyes widened. Was he being serious right now?

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What ______?” Taehyung was willing you to pick a fight with him, he was standing close to you, his eyes narrowing.

“That’s not fair Tae, me and Jungkook have been seeing each other, what happened between me and you… it was an agreement between friends plus it was so I could finally pluck up the courage to sleep with Jungkook or did you just forget that part?”

Taehyung’s chest was heaving now at your words.

“And what about when you nearly came on my thigh the next day, was that part of the agreement too?”

You let out a large exhale you could feel yourself growing hot at his words.

You ran a hand through your hair, “That was – God I don’t even know what that was.”

“That was you being a little slut ______.” Taehyung moved closer to you, too close you couldn’t even think straight.

The pure filth coming out of his mouth sent a pulse of arousal straight to your core.

“You’re being fucking ridiculous right now, you know that?” You put your hands to his chest as a means to push him away from you, but of course it was like trying to move a wall. He immediately brought his hands up to your wrists, holding you in place.

He closed his eyes and inhaled. “All I keep thinking about… is how you tasted, the noises you made. That brunette was flirting with me and all I could think about was you ______.” He had reopened his eyes at this point and was looking straight at you, his desire radiating off him.

“I haven’t fucked anyone new in a week or even had that sort of thought cross my mind because all I can think about is you _____.”

You widened your eyes a little, he was really on a mission to drive you crazy, why was he saying all this to you?

Still, he continued.

“But you made it clear the other night when you went off and let Jungkook take you home. After you had just told me you wanted my dick, you went home and had another dick inside you, not thirty minutes later I’m sure, isn’t that right? Do you have any idea how crazy that made me?”

All you could do was stare. You didn’t know what to say. You could hear your own breathing - heavy, wanting.

You shook your head no to his question. You were sure he didn’t want an actual answer from you, but it was all you think to do.

“Stop looking at me like that ______ or I’m going to fuck you right in this bathroom.” He said, his hands closing tighter round your wrists.

Your resolve broke.

“Do it.” You said quietly but he had heard you.

Taehyung snapped then, his hands let your wrists go and he quickly spun you round and brought you close to him, your back pressed into his chest.

You couldn’t see him anymore but his hands quickly made his ways to your tits. You closed your eyes and leaned into him, moaning.

“Yes baby make those noises for me.” He whispered in your ear.

 His hands quickly make their way down your body pulling up your skirt.

You were soaked through your underwear which Taehyung quickly discovered as he dipped his expert fingers in immediately finding your clit.

You groaned. “Fuck.”

“You are so wet baby, so fucking ready for me.” He began kissing your neck, sucking and nipping on the flesh.

Your legs felt like they were about to buckle at the way he was expertly rubbing your clit.

He reached his other hand up your body, slowly pushing his hand under your top he found your nipple over the lace of your bra and began pinching and rolling.

It was almost too much, too much pleasure all at once, your approaching orgasm was coming faster than you could’ve ever anticipated.

“Are you going to come like this ______?”

All you could do was nod.

“Tell me what you want baby, I’ll give you anything you want. Anything.” Taehyung was whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he sped up his hands.

You let out a low whine, “I’m so close Tae. Please.”

“It’s okay baby, let go, come.”

His words set you over the edge, your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks and if Taehyung hadn’t held you upright you would’ve been on the floor.

“That’s right baby. Just like that.”

When you finally came back to - you realised Taehyung had removed his hand from your underwear and was slowly turning you back around to face him.

“That was – ” Taehyung cut you off with his lips, kissing you like a man possessed. You immediately returned the kiss, bringing your hands up to run them through his impossibly soft hair.

Taehyung moaned into you, pressing his crotch into your stomach and you felt his hard on through his trousers. You immediately reached down to palm his length.

“Hmm, so much more confident this time baby.” He whispered against your lips.

“Although I have to say, I miss the you that needed step by step instructions as you looked at me with those big doe eyes, god you were so curious, so pure.”

You chuckled a little “I’m not some sort of sexpert all of a sudden Tae, I’ve had sex twice in my life.”

“Hm, and you what they say, don’t you? You never forget your first.”

You could’ve rolled your eyes if you weren’t so turned on. You had now taken to unbuttoning Taehyung’s slacks and reaching in, you could feel him in all his glory.

“I wanna taste you.” You said, looking down at him. He looked painfully hard and you wanted to give him some quick relief.

Taehyung stared at you for a moment.

“Get on your knees.” He commanded and you willingly obeyed.

He fisted his hand into your hair moving it out of the way as you quickly got to work.

“Tell me.” he said as you wrapped your lips around his tip. “Did you do this to Jungkook? Did you beg for his cock like this?”

You shook your head no slightly as you tried to take in as much as you could.

Taehyung let out a groan as you looked at him making eye contact.

“If only he knew what a little slut you are for me.”

Taehyung thrusted forward a little causing you to gag on him slightly, this was a new position for you and you weren’t quite used to the sensations.

“You can take it baby I know you can.” He said to you, voice so low you could barely hear him.

You moaned around him, he was going to be the death of you. 

As you worked him a little more you could tell he was becoming undone.

“Baby stop, I need to be inside you.” He said as he pulled himself from you.

You got back up and began kissing him again a fresh pulse of arousal soaking your underwear again.

“Turn round and bend over for me baby.” Taehyung said, his hands on your hips already beginning to turn you around.

You did as instructed, leaning your forearms on the sink counter and looking up in the mirror to see Taehyung line himself up behind you.

“Look at this beautiful ass. You’re so pretty baby.” You could feel him slipping your underwear down and spreading your cheeks.

You heard Taehyung let out a frustrated groan “Shit. We don’t have a condom.”

“It’s fine.” You said quickly. You knew it wasn’t the smartest idea but you didn’t really care in this moment.

“It’s fine Tae.” You repeated.

Taehyung thought he might go insane as you pressed up against him.

“So fucking needy.” He whispered under his breath.

You felt him line up again and slowly begin to sink into you.

The feeling was so much different this time. The feeling of him raw inside you, the position you were in.

You moaned, probably too loud and Taehyung joined you both wrapped up in such intense pleasure.

“Fuck,” Taehyung wasn’t even all the way in you yet. “Jesus christ – fuck you are so fucking tight. Give me a minute here.”

You whined and placed your forehead on the cool countertop. “Taehyung please.”

Taehyung pushed all the way into you and you’d forgotten how big he was as he stretched you open and you accommodated yourself to him.

“Fuck you are so big.” You groaned as he began slowly thrusting.

Taehyung’s hips stuttered slightly at your words.

“Yeah? I’m sure Jungkook didn’t give you nearly as much as you needed. You need a big cock to fill you up huh?”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to give an answer, the feeling almost too much.

The way Taehyung was fucking you, you thought you might orgasm alone from just the penetration, but you needed to speed things up a little. You brought a hand down to rub your clit chasing your second orgasm as Taehyung began to speed up.

“Fuck, tell me your close baby I’m not going to last much longer you feel so good.”

You nodded a little as you continued to rub your clit, clenching around Taehyung.

“Fuck _______. You gonna come for me? Yeah? Come on this dick.”

Your orgasm came crashing down on you.

You heard Taehyung moaning at the feeling and he quickly pulled out of you.

You made a strategic move, turning quickly and getting down on your knees.

You saw Taehyungs shock as you sucked the tip of him into your mouth as he continued to stoke himself, coming undone at the sight of you he came in your mouth.

You swallowed him down, not particularly enjoying the taste you moaned around him anyway, swallowing

“Such a good girl.” Taehyung said as he watched you take every last drop.

You stood up, fixing your skirt and wiping your mouth.

Taehyung placed a hand on your jaw and pulled you in for a quick kiss.

He tucked himself away as you both tried to make yourself look presentable.

You weren’t exactly regretting what had just happened but you did feel a little shameful that you’d just let your friend fuck you in a bathroom of a house party - not a condom in sight.

“That was so fucking crazy good. You are something else ______, how had we not been doing this sooner.”

You gave him a softer kiss this time just a peck before, turning to the mirror and making sure you didn’t look like someone who just did… well…what you did.

“This can’t happen again Tae, do you hear me?” You said as you gave your lips once last wipe.

Taehyung let out a groan only this time it wasn’t of a sexual nature.

You laughed a little, maybe you really were driving him insane.

“You need to stop asking me to fuck you then. I mean that’s twice now – actually three times.” He corrected himself, smirking at you.

“With a 67 percent success rate.” He winked and put his hand on the doorknob twisting slowly you watched as he peeked his head out.

“We’re all good, get your ass downstairs and I’ll be down in a minute.”

You nodded going to walk out and, to your shock, he gave you a quick slap on the ass. You yelped and turned your head to glare at him before scurrying down the stairs.

As you headed back to the living room you scanned the room, your heartbeat racing a little hoping Jungkook hadn’t arrived yet.

God what were you doing? This wasn’t you, or was it? You were finding out a lot of things about yourself with your newfound sexual freedom.

You loved the way Taehyung made you feel, wanted, sexy, exhilarated. He had confidence in spades and made you feel the same with when you were with him. You thought about your friendship and wondered if he’d always been attracted to you. God just thinking about it made you wet again. What did he have such an effect on you?

“Hey _____.” You heard someone approaching behind you, calling your name.

It was him, of course it was him. Jungkook was smiling as he pulled you in for hug and you immediately threw your arms around his neck pulling him in.

“I couldn’t find you, I was worried you’d gone home.” He said as you buried your head into his shoulder.

“Nope, still here.” You said pulling away and smiling up at him.

You were putting on a brave face but the shame and guilt of what you had just done was now drowning you as you looked into his big brown eyes.

“Jungkook!” You heard someone shout his name from across the room and turned to see a group of his friends.

He glanced at you for a second.

“Go mingle! I’ll be fine!” You encouraged him, handing him the drink in your hand.

“I’ve had a head start on you, drink this.”

He smiled at you before nodding and walking over to his friends.

You let out a heavy sigh, you weren’t sure what you and Jungkook were, but you were sure that the feeling in the pit of your stomach wasn’t anything good.

“Hey.” Someone approached you from behind and you almost jumped out of your skin. You turned to face Taehyung once again.

“Oh my god, go somewhere else Tae.” You said, you didn’t know how to handle this.

“_______ we’re friends. It’s normal for us to talk together at a party.”

You took a deep breath, he was right, it wasn’t in any way strange for Taehyung to approach you, everyone knew you had been friends for years.

“I know I know – it’s just, he’s here now Tae, and I guess I feel guilty right now considering what just happened.”

You saw him raise an eyebrow “You guys aren’t exclusive or anything right?”

You shook your head “Not yet. I don’t think so.”

You weren’t sure what exactly his expression meant when you said those words but it didn’t look like he was happy for you that was for sure.

“So… it’s not like we did anything too bad, he could be fucking other girls for all you know, you get that right?”

No, that thought hadn’t actually crossed your mind, was he? You took a moment to assess how you felt about that. You couldn’t be mad at him that would make you the biggest hypocrite in the world, you didn’t love the idea either, but it didn’t exactly fill you with rage or anything.

“You’re right, we haven’t had that talk.” Was all you could think to say.

“…So until you and him decide to become exclusive or not… we’re not really breaking any rules.” He said, sending a wink your way.

You rolled your eyes in response but the way you felt your stomach clench was dangerous, why the fuck was your body betraying you like this?

“Enjoy the rest of your night Tae.” You said before making your way back over to Jungkook.

You spent most of the night with him, partying and drinking.

You lock eyes with Taehyung a few times throughout the night but quickly look away when the pull to him feels more intense than you’re able to handle.

You even end up going home earlier than Jungkook, telling him that you are tired but he should stay. He clings to you but eventually nods and lets you go.

When you finally get home you throw yourself down onto your bed an incredibly deep and dramatic groan leaving you. You had no idea what you had gotten yourself into.

Your phone buzzed indicating a text and you pulled out your phone.

Tae: Come over to my place tomorrow

After about 5 minutes of staring blankly at your wall your phone buzzed again. As you looked down it was a text from Jungkook this time.

Jungkook: hey, hope ur coming to namjoon’s, i want to see u

You let out a long groan of frustration, you were going to go to this stupid movie night.

*

As you arrived at Namjoon’s doorstep you took a deep breath, this didn’t have to be weird if you didn’t make it, right? Nothing had changed between you and Taehyung, at least that’s what you tried to convince yourself as you knocked on Namjoon’s door.

“______!” Namjoon greeted you warmly, pulling you in for a hug.

“Hey Joon, did I miss the start of the movie?” You asked, knowing your internal debate had caused you to be late.

“No, no of course not, you know how we are, we haven’t even picked the damn movie yet.” He laughed as you followed him down to his basement which had been renovated into a small but decent living space where you all liked to hang out from time to time.

As you followed him down the stairs and into the space you quickly glanced around to see the two small couches already being took up by 5 boys, Namjoon had his own chair that he didn’t let anyone sit on so there you were standing like an idiot with nowhere to sit. You played it off, going to sit on the ground.

“Woah!” Jimin – you knew him, but definitely not as well as Namjoon and Taehyung – started, “I saved you a seat right here ______.” he said tapping his lap. You scoffed and rolled your eyes “In your dreams Park.”

“Oh you are.” He said, smirking at you. You rolled your eyes, not in the mood for his antics.

“Hey, if there’s anyone’s lap you should be sitting on, it’s Jungkook’s am I right?” Namjoon chimed in and you could have died then and there.

You glanced at Jungkook who gave you small smile and you couldn’t help as your eyes glanced to Taehyung for a small second who had his face buried in his phone, typical.

“You mind?” you said looking at Jungkook.

“You want to sit on m-my lap?” He asked stuttering a little, his eyes widening.

“No you idiot, I just meant can I sit on the floor where your sitting and lean my back against the couch.”

“So you want to get in between his legs?” Jimin asked, still smirking.

As you sat on the floor you just rolled your eyes again, boys were tiring.

Taehyung, however, who was usually the noisiest in any room at any given time, was being eerily quiet and acting like his phone screen was the most interesting thing in the world. You let out a small sigh, you really hoped it wasn’t because of what you had asked of him.

As the boys finally agreed on a movie and turned off the lights you asked Namjoon if he had any snacks.

“There might be some in the kitchen, go up and check.” He said casually.

Namjoon had said a long time ago that he wasn’t treating anyone that came to his house like guests otherwise he wouldn’t get a moments peace, so if you wanted something you were getting it yourself.

You got up and started walking up the stairs, making your way to the kitchen. You didn’t even realise Taehyung had been behind you until you turned only to be a few centimetres away from his face.

“Jesus Taehyung you scared me half to death.” You said after nearly jumping out of your own skin.

“Sorry,” he said giving you a small smile, “just decided I wanted something sweet to eat.” And you could have sworn he said it in such a way, you were the something sweet he was referring to.

“Oh.” Was all you said, before turning your back to him, opening a cupboard. You spotted some cookies on the top shelf and decided to reach for them, as suspected you were too short and after a small struggle you felt Taehyung press behind you, his crotch pushing into your ass for a short second before he grabbed the cookies and moved away from you again.

“Can you stop that.” You said, your cheeks heating.

“Stop what?” Taehyung asked, feigning innocence.

“You know exactly what you’re doing Tae!” You said, feeling frustrated.

Taehyung walked forward, pining you against the counter.

“This is so stupid, but I cannot stop thinking about you. What have you done to me? Do you have a magic pussy?” He asked, breathing heavy.

You could’ve laughed if he hadn’t been standing so close to you, moving in slowly, putting his lips to your neck in short sweet kisses.

“Tae, give it a rest…we can’t do this…Jungkook…”

“I don’t mind sharing.” Taehyung said, still working on your neck.

“I know your freaky ass doesn’t, but I doubt Jungkook would be happy about this.”

You could barely concentrate on what you were saying as Taehyung kissed and licked at your neck, pressing his clothed crotch against yours.

“Hmm you are so pure, I can’t stop thinking about how I wrecked you, are you sore?” He asked.

You were a little, Taehyung had definitely made you sure you felt what had happened. You gave him a small nod.

“That pretty pussy of yours took me so well, you did amazing for your first time.” Fuck, that sent a fresh pulse of arousal straight to your core.

You couldn’t believe how bold Taehyung was being with his words but truth be told, you loved it.

You wanted so bad to let him have this, to have him take you out to his car and fuck you until you couldn’t remember your own name.

Like he was reading your mind, he spoke, “How do you feel about car sex?”

You let out a small whine as he looked at you like he was about to devour you whole.

“Such a pretty sound.” He said. He got closer to you, his hands beginning to roam around you body kissing your neck slowly he began running his hand over you tits, it was a mistake to go braless under your jumper. You moaned as his fingers skimmed over your nipple.

“Fuck…Tae…I can’t. It was a one time thing. I did this so I could finally get the courage to fuck Jungkook, remember?”

Taehyung pouted a little.

“I know.” He said sighing a little. “But it was so fucking hot. I didn’t know it was going to be like that.”

You groaned a little.

“Taehyung…we have to go back downstairs people will begin to wonder where we are.”

“Okay, okay,” He said, finally moving away from you, but you couldn’t lie, you already missed the feeling of him against you.

You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

As you both walked downstairs you tried to act casual, even pretending to look at your phone as you walked towards were you were sitting.

“What’d you get?” Namjoon asked and you waved the cookies in the air before throwing them to him, you didn’t feel hungry for food anymore.

“Sweet!” He said ripping open the packet like some primal animal.

“_______!” You heard Taehyung say. “Come sit beside me, I’ll make room.” Taehyung had situated himself in a small one seater.

You were going to kill him. If you protested too hard people would wonder why - you and Taehyung had always been comfortable with each other.

You looked behind at Jungkook and he simply shrugged, not seeming too bothered, it wasn’t like you and him were anything serious, you’d hung out three times.

You let out a heavy sigh as Namjoon switched the lights off again, trying to find your way over to Taehyung in the darkness, you reached out your hands. Taehyung responded by grabbing them and pulling you down to him. You fell into him awkwardly, grunting in annoyance.

“I don’t know what you’re hoping to gain from this.” You hissed at him, keeping your voice low. Luckily it was dark, and the movie was loud. Although he'd basically pulled you straight onto his lap.

Taehyung let you adjust yourself and once you had perched yourself at the edge of his knee, you sighed heavily, this was exhausting.

Before you could even realise what was happening Taehyung began moving his leg causing you to spread your legs to plant your feet on the floor so you wouldn’t fall. Your core landed directly onto Taehyung’s meaty thigh and you nearly groaned out loud, this boy was smart.

Taehyung leaned forward, “I’m so glad you wore that little skirt, do me a favour and move your panties to the side.”

You took a shallow breath, surely he can’t be serious?

“Do it for me baby, just shift them over a little.”

You nervously looked around, no one was looking at you.

As if a woman possessed you quickly lifted a little and did what Taehyung had asked, moving the lace to the side so that your core laid bare on Taehyung’s jeans. You quickly retrieved your hand from such an inappropriate place, what the fuck was wrong with you?

Taehyung just watched you, feeling so turned on he nearly came in his boxers.

“Good girl, now use me.” Was all he said.

You hesitated, far too nervous to even do anything let alone grind yourself on his thigh.

Taehyung shifted his thigh and little and felt the full sensation of his thigh against your bare core.

And fuck did it feel good, you moved your hips a little, keeping a slow and steady pace, you could not risk getting caught.

Just a few days before you had never done anything sexual in your life, how did you end up here?

“Come on baby girl, ride me proper.”

Jesus Christ, it took everything in your being not to moan.

You picked up the pace a little, you were practically dripping onto Tae’s thigh.

You needed more, you needed him inside you, this wasn’t enough.

“What’s wrong? Why are you slowing down?” He whispered in your ear.

You were so turned on you didn’t even care how crude you were being when you whispered back.

“I want your dick Tae.” You practically whined.

Taehyung couldn’t get both of you up fast enough and then all eyes were on you both.

You tried your hardest to look normal, but you weren’t sure if it worked.

“Guy’s I’m just going to drive ____ home then come back, she said she thinks she’s getting a migraine.”

A valid excuse, considering you did get them frequently. Taehyung was a good liar.

“I can drive you home _____.” Jungkook piped up and you immediately felt guilt. What the fuck had you been thinking sneaking away with Taehyung. You felt so stupid being blinded by lust, you were better than that.

“Yeah that would be great Jungkook. Thanks.” You said.

“But-” Taehyung began to protest and you shoved an elbow into his ribs.

Jungkook smiled as your agreement, standing up and leading you upstairs.

You phone began to ding and you already knew who it was.

You quickly glanced at your phone, scanning just a few messages.

Tae: U know our fuck was gonna be good!!!

Tae: Cnt believe u left w him THAT horny

Tae: Wait…ur not gonna fuck him… r u?????

You nearly laughed out loud, turning your attention away from your phone and focusing on the back of Jungkook’s head. As you followed him out to his car you grew a little frustrated you had basically blue-balled yourself, you had been so close to coming just a few mere minutes ago.

“You okay?” Jungkook asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You lied.

Horny was an understatement.

As you got into Jungkook’s car you found yourself unable to keep your eyes off him, watching the veins in his arms as he changed gears, watching the concentration on his face and he kept his eyes forward. He was stunning and you no longer had the fear that was holding you back the last time.

As he pulled up at your apartment you felt insatiable.

“Do you wanna come in?” You asked him causally.

“I thought you had a headache?” He said, his eyebrows furrowing, you noted how cute he looked doing that.

“Yeah, I kind of do, but I still wouldn’t mind some company.” You pouted. “We could watch a movie or something, maybe finish the one that was on in Joon’s.”

Jungkook nodded slowly unsure what you were really getting at.

“Yeah sounds good.” He said.

As you led him into your apartment you shut the door and watched him as he settled himself on the couch. He had on jeans this time around, tight around his thighs you noticed how much they accentuated the shape. Fuck was the only thought you could muster. You could still feel the wetness that had gathered at your entrance and you wanted nothing more than to finish what you started, even though it had been Taehyung who had started it.

“So what do you wanna watch?” He asked, he was shifting about a little, he looked almost uncomfortable and you wondered why.

“I don’t know, were you enjoying the movie at Joon’s? I’m sorry I dragged you away.” You said as you sat next to him, not too close but close enough so you were nearly touching his side. 

You were being tactile, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“It’s fine, I wasn’t paying any attention to it, for the most part, I was thinking about how jealous I was of Taehyung the whole time.” He said, still looking forward.

Your eyes widened in surprise, you knew he hadn’t seen what you had been doing, but if the mere thought of you with Taehyung had made him jealous…

God you were so turned on it was bordering sinful.

“You know…” You began. “If you wanted me to sit on your lap all you had to do was ask Jungkook.” You said, smiling - what you hoped looked - seductively at him.

It was Jungkook’s turn to look surprised.

You took your chance to straddle him again. You were ready this time and the excitement boiled in your stomach making your core throb. 

Jungkook kept his hands at his side for a moment, a little bit stunned at your actions.

But when you bent your head to kiss him he slowly raised them to your hips once again putting you in the same position you had been in a few nights ago. 

“I’m sorry about the other night.” You said breathily between kisses.

“I didn’t mean to leave things like that, truth be told I just got scared.” You admitted, breaking away a little to see his reaction. 

Jungkook just smiled at you sweetly.

“I’m relieved to hear that, if I’m being honest I thought you’d lost interest after kissing me, I thought you didn’t find me attractive or something…” He trailed off.

God was he serious? You had made someone as beautiful as him feel inferior?

“No, god no, are you kidding me? Have you seen you?” You rambled.

But Jungkook merely chuckled, more than eager to kiss you again, he closed the space between you once more.

Jungkook kissed you so intensely it made your damn head spin.

You didn’t know what was turning you on more, the feeling of his tongue in your mouth or the fact that his hands how now made their way round to your ass.

As you both found a comfortable rhythm you found yourself getting so worked up you started to grind down on Jungkook. You could feel him, this was turning him on as much as you.

A small moan left your lips as you finally got some relief and Jungkook copied your sound clearly loving the sensation as well.

“God you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” Jungkook moaned in between kissed.

“Definitely not as long as I have.” You replied, struggling to get your breath back.

You whimpered a little, grinding down onto him more, you could not get enough of him.

You slowly pulled away, to pull off your sweater, you were suddenly very bare and a little embarrassed but Jungkook’s face could tell you it was more than enough.

“Do you know how sexy you are?” He asked his breathing was heavier now, he looked flushed and a light sheen of sweat was beginning to appear above his brows.

“Hmm, I could say the same about you.” You said as you removed yourself from his lap, standing up you began shedding more clothes and started moving towards your bedroom, Jungkook couldn’t get up fast enough, following you whilst shedding his clothes, when you opened your bedroom door you felt him grab at your waist walking with you over to the bed you both lay down Jungkook on top, only in his underwear now and you boldly decided to reach down and palm at his length.

Jungkook let out a moan of relief finally getting some real friction.

You rolled him over and took your place straddling his hips, looking at him you reached down and pulled down his boxers finally freeing him.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asked, his chest was heaving as he stared at the image of your hand holding his hard dick.

“Yes.” Was all you said as you glided your hand slowly back and forth over him.

You reached over to your bedside, opening the drawer you pulled a condom out of the box you had initially bought for your first time.

Jungkook watched as you rolled it onto him, you were experiencing a lot of firsts these days. You wanted more.

"I want to be on top." You said.

"Of course babe, anything you want." He said as the both of you got into position.

You slid your underwear to the side and began to slowly lower yourself onto him, gasping at the sensation as you began to have sex for the second time in your life. 

Jungkook let out a low groan as you finally took in his full length.

“Please,” Jungkook whined as he opened his mouth in pleasure.

You slowly began to move, not entirely sure what to do in this new position, rotating your hips for a few seconds to adjust to the pressure, it wasn’t long before Jungkook grabbed your hips and began to thrust into you.

“Fuck, keep doing that.” You said as he began.

You both got lost in each other as your pleasure began to build, it wasn’t long before Jungkook flipped you over and began fucking you into the bed. You bit down on your lip to keep yourself from being as loud as you wanted to be. 

“I wanna hear you, babe, don’t hold out on me.” He said, panting and smiling.

“Please fuck me harder…feel’s so fucking good.” 

Jungkook let out a groan at the sound of your words happily obliging to your request.

He thrusted harder and faster and you could feel your orgasm approaching.

Jungkook reached his hand down and began rubbing at your clit sloppily but it was enough for you to let out a small yelp, your pleasure intensifying.

“Want you to come for me, please, I’m so close,” Jungkook said.

“Me too, ah fuck- I’m so close too.” You replied through moans.

Jungkook was slowing down but the pressure on your clit grew rougher and you bucked your hips up chasing your orgasm that was about to crash down on you at any moment.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” You half yelled as you orgasm washed over you.

You were so lost in the immense pleasure you felt you couldn’t even focus on the feeling of Jungkook finding his own release

As you slowly came back to reality Jungkook spoke first.

“That was honestly amazing, you felt fucking amazing. God you're so fucking hot."

You laughed a little, he was clearly still wrapped up in his own pleasure as he praised you. You sent a silent thank you Taehyung's way. You weren't entirely sure why he'd popped into your head after having sex with someone else, but you quickly shook the thought away, asking Jungkook did he want to shower with you.