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— UNTITLED: THE SMAU
8 besties fall in love. inspired by the untitled one shots by nsfwtaegis
status: ongoing
pairing: taegi x reader, ot7 x reader
genre: humour/crack, fluff, smut
warnings: none atm
a/n: this might b a little unhinged xx
chapters:
introductions
part one: freaks online
part two: subtweet subtly
part three: nee naw
part four: ur so cute
part five: wow
part six: kinda wholesome
part seven: hehe
part eight: whoreby
part nine: hard launch
part ten: eggs
bonus: witness
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plot twist (1)
series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, fargiling a lot and some self-deprecation. no proofread. this is just silly writing, we're on the safe zone for now. a/n. hi guys! i was gonna wait a little bit but i'm really excited about this one so you're gonna have earlier! thank u all for the support and i really hope you enjoy this 🫶🏻
series masterlist | next
You met them all at school. Each with their own ambitions, their different dreams, but so similar in the nature of their core. It was almost funny how everyone with their dissimilar personalities fit so strangely well into one school group. There were times when you could still remember how you used to tell them that all together they could rule the world.
Maybe that's why you didn't see them years ago.
Jeon Jungkook was an idol. There wasn't an hour in the day or a screen in the city where you weren't watching him. He was so popular around the world that you suspected that not even one person didn't know him. His voice was on every radio station, on every cell phone of the people you passed on the street and on the buses, his face on the TV sets with the last interview he had done, as if it were a national achievement. You even saw him in restaurants, chefs naming dishes after him, production companies releasing collaborations with his company. There wasn't an object in that city that didn't have Jungkook's face on its forehead. It was impossible to escape him.
He was closely followed by Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin, two of the most promising models of the last decade, a national pride hand in hand with Jungkook. You didn't see them as often as Jungkook, but they still swept the international public and there was hardly anyone who didn't talk about them. Invited to catwalks in Paris, choosing their contracts and collaborations, wearing the most expensive clothes that you wouldn't even think of buying, wearing beautiful matching jewelry, expensive enough that a single outfit from each of them could buy you five houses in the small town they all came from. Taehyung and Jimin were known as the Siamese twins of modeling. Wherever one went, the other always had to be. Their exclusivity was incomparable.
In levels of recognition, Min Yoongi followed them in line. A great rapper who was well received by the general populace. Yoongi had managed to captivate a large audience thanks to his incredible command of the production of his music and his ease and gift for writing his own lyrics. His growth was gradual, but when he touched the sky he never went down again. His popularity was not low even though his presentation to the public was not that high compared to the other three. Still, Yoongi had enough charisma and talent to stand out, especially when his fans were obsessed with highlighting the duality he had when he was on stage and when he did those seventy question interviews with Vogue or whatever… that had made him one of the best rappers of his generation and probably of the last century.
Kim Namjoon was the owner of the company that made Jungkook's debut and welcomed Yoongi with total creative freedom. If he were not solely focused on music, he would surely also be Taehyung and Jimin's agent. Namjoon had inherited a company from his parents, but the success he had turned it into over the past few years, into one of the most profitable businesses in the country, was entirely to his credit and effort. His popularity was also high, because everyone said he was too handsome to be a mere businessman; not knowing, of course, that everything involved in maintaining such a business required much more than a pretty face. Of Namjoon the public didn't know too much, not probably like the other guys and you, if he was still half the person he was before.
Hand in hand with Namjoon were Jung Hoseok and Kim Seokjin. Hoseok was and still is to this day a national pride as he passionately played tennis since school and turned professional, reaching to participate in major international tournaments representing his country and winning one of them. However, two years after that great feat, an accident involving one of his hands prevented him from continuing to play. No one knows exactly what happened during the more than a year and a half that he almost completely disappeared from the public eye, but when he returned with his huge smile he announced that he would dedicate himself to dance, opening his own academy throughout the center of the city. Although he was not a recurrent teacher, his academy was one of the best in the country, and of course, it was financed by Namjoon's company. At one time Hoseok became Namjoon's associate.
Seokjin, on the other hand, was the one who kept the lowest profile. He was a great doctor, cardiovascular if you were not mistaken. In addition to being an amazing surgeon, his research projects were the ones everyone looked forward to the most at the end of each year. You didn't know much about the subject, but he was almost like the guru of medicine in his field specifically. The only reason he was so much in the public eye being a doctor was because he was regularly seen in the company of Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi. The four of them made up the holy grail of dilfs.
They had all had incredibly successful careers and you were glad that they had been able to accomplish everything they once talked about on the rooftop of Namjoon's house, with sneaky steps so their parents wouldn't scold them when they sneaked out in the wee hours of the morning.
You didn't know exactly what it was - or you didn't want to acknowledge it - that succumbed inside you every time you saw or heard about any of them on the news or on social media. Because yeah, no matter how low media exposure any of them had, always the faces of all seven appeared on your TikTok every week.
It was amazing how they had all moved on and you… well, you-
“Weren't you supossed to leave?”
You lifted your head from your phone, trying to hide it with trembling hands as you let Taehyung's face next to Jungkook's plunge into the darkness of your apron pocket.
“Huh?”
You tried to look distracted, returning your gaze between your boss and the notes next to the cash register. She had a soft gaze, between amused and sisterly. Her brown eyes shifted from your eyes and hot cheeks to the notes you held upside down in your hands, pretending to work as if she herself hadn't seen you completely frozen and gawking at the pair of the country's great casanovas.
“I thought you were leaving earlier today,” your boss shifted, settling her trench coat and long brown strap bag over her shoulder. At that moment she was leaving to walk around to each of the locations she had in town, just to do follow-ups. “Don't tell me you forgot.”
You followed her index finger until it landed on the red circle you had drawn on the calendar placed in your little cubicle a couple of weeks ago, with hearts surrounding it and exclamation points. Yes you remembered, of course you remembered, but at the point where you were at the time no one was going to miss you if you didn't attend.
“I didn't forget…” your voice trailed off as you looked down, your fingers finding the tips of the pages more entertaining than your boss's worried expression.
“y/n, you asked me to leave earlier this day from four months ago,” her high-pitched voice echoed in your head, reminding you how excited you had been a while ago for this day to come. “You can't just give up like that. Come on. You still have time.”
You began to shake your head, releasing your grip on the woman who was looking at you with the same worried eyes of a mother. Your boss had been one of the most encouraging people you'd ever had in your life, besides the handful of friends you had stored in your phone's contacts.
“It was a bust last time. I don't plan on going through that again.”
“But hadn't you told me afterwards that you weren't going to let that stop you? You said… what was it? I can't drown in this glass of water.”
You grudgingly resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Really you of four months ago was a deluded fool.
“I had no idea about life at the time.”
Your boss clicked her tongue, dropping her hands on your shoulders, giving little squeezes whose familiarity stole your breath.
“I'll leave Patrick waiting for you in case you change your mind.”
You shook your head, evading the memories. The man outside the store shook his head in greeting as the two of you turned to look at him, as if he knew you were talking about him.
“Don't miss this opportunity because you're afraid. It may change your life.”
You watched her leave, the clacking of her low heels drawing the attention of everyone in the store, earning every possible stare as she did every time she entered any room. Her chauffeur, Patrick, greeted her with a similar nod of his head as before and stood leaning against the black car parked right where he could get a perfect view of your nervous face.
You, unlike the great and successful lives of your high school friends whose company you still used to miss like a fool, had not had such a great and successful life.
You were a writer. Well, an attempted writer and, worse, part-time. The other part-time was this job behind the cash register at the largest pastry chain in the country. Or sometimes as a waitress, it depended on the day. There was good pay, mind you, at least it allowed you to make up for the losses you took every time you tried to sell a book and then had to market it on your own, only to have five purchases once every seven months and three of them were from your parents and brother. The other two were from your friends.
Four months ago you had been invited to a sort of convention for readers, how they had found you and why? You had no idea, but the idea of being considered in that way drove you crazy at the time. You were so excited that you had more copies of your failed books printed and prepared your booth several days in advance to present them to the horde of people who, you were sure at the time, would come to meet you.
Only one person came by to ask you about the bathroom.
You never recovered from that.
Even with all that failure, that same day you were invited to another convention and, for a while, you were excited to attend. Everyone goes through those kinds of bumps at some point in their life, right? You have to work hard to earn that kind of fame, you kept telling yourself. But as time went on and your networks didn't grow and your videos didn't get more than ten views, or fifty views at most in a week, you began to lose that spark of excitement you held for your dream. Your parents had never turned your back on what you wanted to do, but it was too demotivating and discouraging to have spent so many years at it, so many headaches and tears invested for you to just keep losing and losing money.
That was why you were sure you wouldn't go to that convention if you had to go through that mockery again. You hadn't even bothered to go and fix your booth so surely they already knew you weren't going.
“Have you seen them yet??????”
The female voice coming from the wine cellar made you jump up on your chair.
“Jesus, Yuna, you almost killed me here.”
“I don't care! We could die right now for all we care!”
“Wow, speak for yourself.”
“Haven't you seen theeeem?”
Yuna held up her phone, the screen at full brightness blinding you for a moment. The blurry dots you saw from the proximity of the device told you nothing, as your friend jumped excitedly beside you.
“God, hold still.”
Grabbing her wrist, you leveled the phone to see her TikTok and a picture of three men.
Namjoon, Yoongi and Jungkook coming out of a building. From Namjoon's building.
“They look amazing, don't they? They just came out! That means their car will pass in front of us any minute!”
Yes, Namjoon's building was just a few blocks away from your boss's place. In fact, your boss knew him and many times they would prepare large orders for parties at his company. You had never seen him set foot in this place or any other in the country, but every time he went to celebrate something he had to dial your boss's personal number and you would work until your backs burned because everything had to be perfect for the big businessman.
“Are you going out to greet them or what?” you frowned, letting go of her wrist and returning your gaze to the notebook next to the cash register.
Yuna let out an excited exclamation.
“Ohhhh~, should I? Should I?”
You grabbed her by the collar of her uniform as she tried to pass behind you.
“We're still on business hours.”
“I'm sure Sol wouldn't mind,” her almost heart pupil eyes stared down the street, her hands moving in front of her like she was a zombie. She almost seemed possessed by her fanaticism. Though of course you didn't blame her, if you didn't know any of the seven knights of the underworld you would surely be as excited as she was.
“Don't put words in her mouth. You'd better tell me if the lady's batch of cakes is out yet-”
Commotion erupted throughout the room. You almost saw in slow motion how all the people in the premises got up and running in the direction of the glass doors when you heard the screams coming from far away.
“They're comiiiiiiiiiiiing!!!”
Sometimes you wondered how they dealt with this level of fanaticism.
The ground almost shook with the amount of people running after a black car, where the three men who were causing such a furor so early that day were most likely to be, and the commotion was not tiny inside the venue where the screams erupted.
Having to deal with that on a daily basis would easily turn someone into a hater. Not that you were one... strictly...
“God, for a moment we breathed the same air,” Yuna plopped down on the table, her body doubled over with her eyes lost. You resisted the urge to smack her forehead.
“Their car windows were up.”
“So you saw them, right?????”
“Argh.”
You had to drag her back to work as the excitement in the store dissipated. You attended to another batch of consumers while Yuna fixed the display case and, in a moment of lapse you could almost tell, her back suddenly straightened and she turned to look at you with her eyes a little too wide. You passed the change to the man in front of you, who barely sent you a confused glance before continuing to claim his order at the other corner of the store.
“What's wrong with you?”
“You shouldn't be here.”
“Don't say that with that face. You look creepy,” you pulled out the bill to tuck it under the cash register as Yuna approached, leaving the frightened face behind.
“Wasn't that convention today?”
You sighed. “Yes.”
“Then why aren't you there?”
“Do I look like I want to be there?”
“Y/n! It's a great opportunity. You should-”
“A great opportunity for what, to be a laughingstock again?”
Yuna pursed her lips, looking almost pained that you would remember in that way the experience that was supposed to change your life. She had been one of the ones who had accompanied you to set up the booth and she was sure she had never seen you smile so much during all the time the two of you had known each other. Yuna was aware of how over time you seemed to have lost interest in this new convention, but she didn't think you would finally decide not to go.
On the sly, she had prepared your booth with the help of your mother and Sol, your boss.
“You were never a laughingstock! Don't say that,” Yuna patted your forearm harder than necessary. “Besides, I recently logged some purchases on the site! How do you-?”
“I know it was you and mom,” you raised your voice to interrupt her, stepping archly away from her body.
“What the… Of course not, ha, ha!”
“You're the only fools who would write down celebrity names to register purchases. Besides, the addresses don't even exist.”
“Fuck, I told her that wouldn't work.”
Under your heavy gaze, Yuna had the decency to look embarrassed.
“Okay, I'm sorry! We wanted to motivate you to go to the convention.”
“Can't you just let me do my own thing? If I don't want to go, I won't go.”
“Even if you leave Patrick waiting there?”
You followed his gaze, watching the man pull an umbrella out of the trunk of the car as the slightest breeze brushed against his body and the water droplets were smaller than a dew that the two of you had to squint to see them on the glass of the entrance.
“Whatever it is, I'm not going.”
“y/n…” Yuna pleaded, coming closer with her puppy dog eyes.
“No.”
“y/n, please…”
“No and stop doing that. You look weird.”
“I don't,” Yuna pulled away to frown at you. “I once heard you agreed with Seoyeon about my puppy face being cute.”
“I never agreed with that!”
“Seojun told me so!”
“Your first mistake is believing Seojun.”
“Do you blame me if the reason is your demonstration of love for me?”
“That was your second mistake.”
“Y/n!”
_____________________
That day you arrived home a little later than usual. Since Patrick had been waiting for you all day in the sun and mini rain and refused to let you take a cab on direct instructions from Sol, you asked him to take a ride downtown so you could buy the teokkboki your mom loved and incidentally bought some for him, even though he didn't want to accept it at first.
“y/n, dear, how did it go?”
Your parents were in the living room when you arrived playing Go. Your father left the table when he saw you carrying the bag of food and came over to take it from you.
“What does our little writer bring here, a contract by any chance?”
You watched out of the corner of your eye as your mother tried to get your father's attention by wildly waving her fan, while the man rummaged through the bag to find something warm and delicious smelling.
“Oh, it's teokkboki.”
Your mother stopped waving her arm to stare at the bag with sparkling eyes.
“The ones from the center? From Mrs. Wang?”
You nodded in her direction, taking a seat in their midst on the floor. Your parents started a pitched battle to see who would break the bag first to try the first batch of teokkboki and you could only watch them with a smile on your face. The day may have been difficult, but being home at the end of the day always made you feel so much better.
Amidst laughter and anecdotes, trying to avoid the elephant in the room because you knew your mother's furtive glances weren't for nothing, the three of you ate teokkboki until you were bursting at the seams. You organized the kitchen with your father while your mother grumbled from the living room whatever he said about her. You watched the three of you favorite soap opera on the fixed schedule and finally got ready for bed.
With your body more relaxed and lighter, you let yourself sink into the softness of the sheets, completely ignoring the messages Yuna had sent earlier and the stupid questions your brother asked at the most inopportune moments.
His independence was probably one of the worst things that could happen. You being the older sister thought you would leave home first. Even according to your twelve year old diary, you should have been married by then or at least planning your amazing, mega giant wedding, complete with helicopters and puppy dogs carrying drinks through the reception. You didn't know what kind of crazy dreams you had when you were younger, but up to that point you hadn't been able to fulfill any of your inner child's desires except to study for a career you were passionate about.
How do I unclog a bath?
Do I add salt to the rice???
Where do I get the kimchi mom makes?????
Still, what good had that done in the end? Maybe you should've listened to your grandparents to study medicine. Maybe your parents should've been a little more conservative instead of libertarian, which your grandparents always complained about when they had the chance. If you were a disgrace to anyone in the family, it was to them.
Ah, what a long day.
“What the fuck are you doing calling at this hour? It better be an emergency because-”
You didn't know at what point you fell asleep, but the incessant sound of your phone vibrating next to your pillow woke you up. With a grunt, you moved your hands to put the device in front of one of your half-open eyes to find Yuna on caller ID. Your eyes moved upward.
It was one in the morning!
“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING THAT YOU DON'T CHECK YOUR MESSAGES?”
“WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT? IT'S ONE IN THE MORNING! WHY WOULD I BE DOING ANYTHING ELSE BUT SLEEPING?”
“I'VE BEEN TEXTING YOU FOR A WHILE NOW, Y/N!”
“YUNA HOW CAN I NOT FUCKING SLEEP-?”
“Well, whatever!”
You let out an exasperated snort, giving her time to say what she had to say.
“You're going to fall on your ass.”
“I'm lying down.”
“Your books have sold a thousand copies in the last hour!”
Silence. Absorbing silence…
“Yuna, if you really woke me up to play a fucking prank on me I'm going all the way to your house to pull out every single one of your hairs with a fucking tweezer.”
“First of all, gross. Second of all, I'm not kidding! Get on your fucking Instagram! What's worse is that's not the most shocking news. Well… depends on how you look at it.”
“Yuna, I don't think I'm following you.”
“Fucking Kim Taehyung was at the reader convention and he took a picture of your books and UPLOADED IT TO HIS INSTAGRAM STORIES!!!!! AN HOUR AGO! The damn shopping notifications woke me up and I think I took too much time trying to process what was going on because they already tripled!”
“What the fuck are you talking about, did you start smoking weed?”
“Ugh, why are you so insufferable? Just look at fucking Instagram!”
You didn't want to believe Yuna, but a part of you was vibrating in anticipation. You'd already seen her text messages, her exclamations and voice notes, you'd barely processed the images she'd sent you. You logged on to Instagram. The first thing you noticed was the exorbitant amount of notifications and direct messages.
You had to search for Taehyung's account because you weren't following him.
Your books were all over his story, with his hand holding one of them.
There was the colorful arc around his profile picture. The story.
You clicked on his picture on the screen.
It jumped out at you that there was a stand of your books that you had no idea where it had come from.
A description loomed between the image.
One of the best fantasy books I've read in recent years. And by one of the best writers I've ever met in my life.
Your user was next to the description. You had no idea how fucking Kim Taehyung had gotten your user when it wasn't even something related to your name. You hadn't even uploaded pictures of yourself once in all the time that account had been open.
“Did you see it?? Can you see I wasn't lying?”
With Yuna's malevolent laughter in the background, you felt your mind escape into an unknown mental space.
“You're going to be rich!!! And I'm going to meet Kim Taehyung!”
Your mind was racing a thousand miles an hour trying to make sense of what your eyes couldn't credit. His story was replaying on your screen. So many things you could say and just…
“What the fuck?”
--
tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess
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masterlist
➵ author: anais, 23, she/her. pan. lover of all things dark and delicious.
➵ updates: date for next scheduled post can be found at the end of the last chapter or in my bio :)
➵ dni: minors
ot7
series:
➵ house of addams: ot7 x fem.reader. mystery, angst + fluff + smut, cozy mystery/addams family vibes. current word count: 7.8k. summary: private investigator!reader is hired to look into the deaths, disappearances, and disturbances in the small town of Farrow's End, where she meets a gang of weirdos that help her along the way while she vehemently denies her attraction to all seven of them.
chpt. 1: new digs
chpt. 2: but first, fieldwork
chpt. 3: into the morgue
next update: 05/15/24
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who's your bias? | kth
Everyone says idols shouldn’t date their fans. Little did you know the crazy sasaengs aren't the ones who might ruin your relationship. It might just be your boyfriend's best friends.
» pairing: idol!taehyung x music producer girlfriend!reader
» genre: BTS | 18+ | idol au | established relationship | fluffy smut | lil bit of angst | an attempt at army-specific humor
» wc/date: 12.6k | January 2023
» warnings: canon divergent (i'm just making shit up y'all, as usual) | jealousy | relationship insecurity | reader might seem annoying at first but i swear it gets cute very quickly | tae enjoys using terms of endearment | soft!dom tae | finger sucking | thigh riding | tae's got a Big Dick, but what else is new? | blowjob | fingering | unprotected vaginal sex | overstimulation | a breeding kink is ~hinted at~ | cunnilingus | yoonmin4ever
» notes: this was entirely self-indulgent 😂 i hope my taehyung whores enjoy my first idol au oneshot. also i wrote 80% of this while i was high and with no beta so if it's bad, now you know why
» masterlist | ao3 | join my taglist
» what was jai listening to? impatient - jeremih ft. ty dolla $ign
“Y/N, stop it right now.”
Your boyfriend breathes the command faster than you can even open your mouth to greet him. With a roll of your eyes, you put your phone on speaker and sit it on the floor beside you. Rummaging through the cardboard boxes littering your apartment is easier done with both hands.
“Why hello, Taehyung. What a pleasure to hear from you.”
“Are you seriously mad at me right now?” From the whine in his voice you’re positive he’s wearing a deep pout, bottom lip jutting out as far as it can. You love kissing his pouts away.
But not this time! And not just because you’re on opposite sides of the world.
“Shouldn’t you be asleep? It’s so late there and I’m sure you’re very tired from displaying your dick to all of America for three hours.”
The cardboard box in front of you has “BEDROOM” scribbled in your father’s handwriting on the side in thick, black Sharpie. It’s full of little trinkets and random decor. A Shooky plushie is crammed into the corner in between a cracked Army bomb and a small framed photo of you with your parents. You smile to yourself despite your boyfriend’s huffing over the phone. Your father had given you a strange look as he helped you pack the items as if to ask, Really? Do you really need these?
Just because you’re dating a member of BTS now doesn’t mean you can’t cherish your old BTS merch! It’s not weird, in your opinion. It would only be weird if you made it weird. And you weren’t making it weird.
“I did not display my dick!”
You roll your eyes for probably the fifth time while you ponder where to put Shooky. You'd kept it on your dresser in your old home in the States. Something tells you Taehyung won’t appreciate the lack of a Tata beside it.
“You were thrusting and throwing it around! And pointing at it while doing it, too!”
“Y/N!”
“Don’t Y/N me! I have my TikTok evidence!”
With your cracked Army bomb in hand, you open the app in question, scrolling through your favorited videos until you get to the one. The one uploaded only a day before. The one you’d texted to Taehyung which prompted his immediate phone call.
“And what does the caption say?” you ask but then cut Taehyung off before he can answer the question. “It says, and I quote, ‘I will never forget Taehyung doing this. I looped this for hours. Kim Taehyung lives in my head rent-free.’ Hashtag Taehyung. Hashtag HipsDon’tLie. With the woozy face emoji. And do we need to discuss the music choice?”
“Y/N, can you please-”
“Slut Me Out,” you deadpan in a monotone voice. “That is the song they chose for you.”
The other end is silent for so long you start to feel bad. Every time your jealousy spikes, you seem to act on impulse rather than thinking through how you might make Taehyung feel. Yes, he sometimes plays his part in the group a little too well, but you also knew that this was his job. It’s his job to make people get excited - excited for the music, the group, and himself as an idol.
Still, your opinion is the most important to him, and you know that.
“Jagiya…” Taehyung sniffles and you feel your heart shatter.
Fuck, you really are a bitch, aren’t you?
“Tae, I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know, I didn’t really think anything of it. It’s just an act, y’know?”
You did know. Away from the stage and the cameras, Taehyung is quiet, almost shy. He’s happy to be a silent observer of whatever chaos his members create. He gifts everyone with puffy cheeks and boxy grins, sometimes a boisterous laugh that manages to make your heart soar every time. But the soft-spoken soul you listen to old school R&B with while you smoke strawberry swisher blunts on the balcony late into the night, and convince that yes, the apartment is soundly built and no, the balcony will not randomly fall out beneath you… That person is different from the person you see wearing a resting bitch face in interviews or the person who chews away at imaginary gum during concerts.
You find all versions of Taehyung endearing, although the fake gum chewing is kind of embarrassing if you wanted to be perfectly honest.
“I know, Tae. I’m sorry I’m being judgmental for no reason,” you insist and you hope he believes you. Complaints about his idol status typically resulted in red eyes and sniffles, yet sometimes you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing his pressure points despite his sensitivity.
Your apology puts Taehyung in a better mood because his following comment is cheekier than you expect.
“You get jealous a lot, jagi.” His smug tone is close to bringing back your irritation.
“I am not jealous of some fans in a stadium, thanks.”
“Good,” he says more cheerfully. “‘Cause I only have sights for you.”
That makes you laugh and you feel your earlier heaviness disappear. “You mean, you only have eyes for me?”
“Isn’t that what I said?”
You shake your head as if Taehyung can see you. A few photo strips are beneath Shooky in the cardboard box. You silently curse your father (respectfully and endearingly) for casually placing something so fragile in the bottom of a box. The photos are of you and Taehyung in a photo booth at a birthday party for an idol you didn’t know. An actor, you think. You thumb at one of the corners of the photo strip that has curled inward. Taehyung’s hair was straight then, and short, falling just above his ears. You much prefer the thick waves he wears now.
“You’re so cute.”
“Only for you.”
“Oh shut up, now you’re being corny.”
You’re not sure why, but you try to suppress the smile Taehyung’s light flirting coaxes out of you, even though he can’t see you. Accepting his teasing affection has always been hard for you. All the boys are too caring; it makes you uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. You’re just not used to men acting like that. They’re all very different from the men you’ve been around growing up. There’s a reason Taehyung can’t listen to you talk about your ex-boyfriends without getting pissed.
“Mmm, maybe. I’m also sleepy,” Taehyung slurs. His voice is so soft you almost can’t hear him, so you lift your phone to your ear rather than use the speaker setting. The smoothness feels like a lullaby gentle enough to carry you to sleep, even though it’s still daylight in Seoul.
“Goodnight, Kim.” You decide for him, knowing he would stay on the phone if you let him.
Confirming your thoughts, Taehyung grumbles when he speaks next. “I love you, jagi.”
“I love you, too.” People always talk about the “honeymoon phase” when the butterflies disappear and couples no longer feel the exciting draw toward each other anymore. It’s been less than a year since you started dating Taehyung, but you’re confident that your heart will always flutter when you hear those three words so confidently spoken. Taehyung had been the first to say it; something about that makes you even more sure of your relationship.
“Can’t wait to see you soon so I can slut you out.”
“... please go to bed and never say that ever again.”
In the distance, you hear someone start yelling. The noise is accompanied by a rather aggressive ruffling sound, as though Taehyung’s phone is being rubbed against fabric.
“Are you two having phone sex?” The second voice accuses, this time sounding much clearer.
“Hyung, leave me alone,” Taehyung whines. “Y/N, tell him to go away.”
You let out a long sigh, but the grin finally cuts through the hardened expression you try to maintain. “Goodnight, Jimin.”
It sounds like the two boys start physically fighting each other before Taehyung lets out a breathy, “Goodnight, baby,” accompanied by Jimin screeching something you can’t understand before the call ends.
With a shake of your head, you leave your phone on the floor and get up to position Shooky and your Army bomb on your dresser. You’ll figure out what to do with it later, you decide.
Later ends up being three more days of you giving a half-assed attempt to sort through the boxes. Your bedroom is mostly organized by the end of the week with only one more box remaining, shoved into the corner of the room. It’s a bunch of family keepsakes that will make you cry if you start looking at them.
Right now you want to make a beeline to the kitchen.
It’s hard not to trip over all the boxes that litter your apartment, most of them already torn open and half-empty. The kitchen hasn’t been fully unpacked, either, so you opt for instant ramen in the microwave rather than dig for utensils to cook a proper meal. It’s pretty bad. You and Taehyung are a terrible match; you both have no idea how to cook. There’s no point in all the fancy kitchenware your parents bought you. You’ll never master any of it. It’s not because you don’t put in any effort, like Taehyung. You’re genuinely shit at cooking.
And baking? That’s even worse.
You stand in the middle of your living room while you shovel ramen in your mouth. It’s too hot, so you inhale loudly through your teeth to cool the food off before it scorches your throat. There’s so much you need to do, and it’s making you nauseous thinking about it. Somewhere in the mix of boxes are your Hangeul textbooks that you should be studying in your free time instead of playing video games and video chatting with your friends. It’s only been a week and a half, but you already feel lonely without the constant presence of your friends and family. The boys have been on tour the entire time. Namjoon decided you moving to Seoul while they’re on tour would make your arrival less suspicious, and everyone would be more focused on the tour than whatever an unknown American music producer is doing.
In your opinion, Namjoon was overthinking the whole thing as he is wont to do. But you let him be bossy because you know his heart is in the right place. It’s not like the public knows you’re dating Taehyung. There hasn’t been any press or rumors about you at all. You’re genuinely unknown.
You prefer it that way.
Your fork scrapes the bottom of the bowl and you realize you’ve scarfed down the ramen without much thought. You suppose it’s easier to do that when you aren’t using chopsticks. (You’ve managed to master them, for the most part, but you prefer to fall back on forks when you’re alone at home.)
You place the bowl on top of the large cardboard box in front of the couch. It has the pieces for your coffee table inside, but you haven’t had the energy to put it together yet. The part of you that allows your feminism to leave your body whenever the boys are around is kind of hoping you can get one of them to build it for you. Maybe Yoongi. He’s into that kind of stuff.
With a sigh, you flop onto the couch and slip your phone out of your back pocket. A few Whatsapp and KakaoTalk notifications light up the screen. You used to be terrible at responding to texts, but moving halfway across the world has made you a better texter. It’s a way to fill the loneliness.
[Alex] hey bitch
[Alex] this 15 hour time difference sucks ass
[You] I’m sorry
[Alex] its fine. i’ll forgive you for chasing money and dick
[You] I’m not chasing dick omg
[Alex] dont lie
[Alex] whats that tiffany pollard meme
[You] Stop
[Alex] i know his dick is big. i know it! i know it’s big!
[You] I hate you
[Alex] you didnt deny it. anywayyy did you see this?
As much as you adore Alex, she’s an expert at getting under your skin. You remind yourself that it’s all harmless as you click on the link she texts you.
BTS' V woos fans with his casual rockstar visuals on his return from world tour
Kim Taehyung, also known professionally as V of BTS, was spotted at John F. Kennedy International Airport on Friday. The singer is reportedly returning early to South Korea ahead of his band members after completing the final performance of their…
You don’t know why you read the shitty k-pop tabloids. You figure it’s the same reason why people make a hobby out of watching bad movies. There’s a weird itch in the back of your brain that can’t be scratched unless you open the link Alex texts you— teasingly, of course, because she thinks she’s being funny. Your friends don’t understand the nauseous feeling you get when you scroll through the article and accidentally click on a link that takes you to an external website flaunting doctored photos of your boyfriend with Jennie Kim.
BTS’ V and BLACKPINK’s Jennie Spend Romantic Weekend in Paris
You know it’s a lie because the weekend in question was the same weekend Taehyung flew you to Seoul to do a final walkthrough of your apartment before you signed off on it. Taehyung spent every second of that weekend by your side.
The article makes you sick anyway.
You’re so caught up in trying to craft a text to Alex to explain why she needs to leave you the fuck alone that you don’t hear the sound of your apartment’s front door open over the music you’re listening to.
“I’m gone for a few months and I come home to you listening to some other band?”
“Holy shit, Tae, you can’t do that to me,” you yelp when Taehyung leans over the back of the couch to hover over your shoulder.
“Explain yourself.” His voice is warm honey and milk even when his strong eyebrows point downward in mock disappointment. The expression is almost convincing, his naturally sharp features making conjuring up a dark appearance easier.
“You can’t tell me Stray Kids’ new album isn’t good.”
“Jagiya, I just got home,” Taehyung whines. “Kiss me and stop thirsting over Australian boys.”
He touches your chin to tip your head backward. You lean your head against the back of the couch and look up at him. The position makes you think of the iconic Spiderman kiss, seeing Taehyung’s face upside down above yours.
“Y’know, I worked on a few of their songs. Before I met you.”
The confession is meant to tease him for making fun of your music choice. Of course, words’ impact often diverges from intent. It’s in the twist of his face and the way he pulls back slightly just before his lips brush against yours that you know you’ve made him jealous.
“Oh did you?” His hair hangs around his face as he leans over you.
“Mhm, Bang Chan’s accent is really cu—”
You shouldn’t be shocked when strong hands squeeze your waist and Taehyung hauls you off the couch to stand in front of him. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you tightly against his chest.
“You didn’t work with any other groups before us, okay?”
You purse your lips to hold in the laughter that threatens to explode from your chest. All you can do is nod in agreement. It reminds you of girls getting upset when they remember their boyfriends dated other people before them.
“Good.”
Taehyung dips his head down to connect his lips with yours. The closeness of his body forces you to inhale his cologne and feel goosebumps travel down your arms. It’s been months since you’ve so much as held Taehyung’s hand and you feel like you’ve been starved. Your body trembles so severely that you dig your nails into his biceps to hold yourself upright. You moan into his mouth, already open and ready for you because Taehyung is nothing but giving.
The kiss isn’t bruising, not yet. It’s slow and deep. Taehyung takes his time reminding himself of your taste. You grip the nape of his neck to pull him down as you meet him by standing on your tiptoes. His height has always been one of your favorite aspects of his physical appearance. Dark, watchful eyes that pierce into your soul might be at the top of the list.
His tongue swirls around yours, only retreating to suck your bottom lip into his mouth. His teeth graze along the plump skin, each nibble making you dizzy in the head. You normally hate wet kisses, but there’s something satisfying about seeing Taehyung’s lips pink and shiny with your spit when he finally pulls away. Pride thrums in your chest; you did that. You made his tan skin flush pink. You made his eyes dark and sharp. You made his breathing ragged and desperate.
And, fuck, does it feel good.
You run your fingers along his sharp jawline and watch the muscles flex beneath his taunt skin. “Don’t clench your jaw like that. It’s not good for you,” you muse, allowing your fingers to skim over his Adam’s apple.
“I’m trying to stay calm.”
Your eyebrows fly up with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Wanna bend you over the couch and fuck you until you can’t walk,” Taehyung says with such a gentle tone that the stark difference between what he says and how he says it has your body trembling once again.
You inhale sharply and let your hand fall from his throat. Instead, you reach for the lapels of his leather jacket and squeeze them.
“Why don’t you?”
You can’t look at him when you ask. Even though you’ve been dating for almost a year, Taehyung still intimidates the hell out of you sometimes. The darkness of his eyes when he gets horny sends you reeling. You’re sure if you look up, you’ll see The Look. He stares at you unabashedly with an expression of desire so strong you feel like he might consume you just by looking at you.
“You haven’t eaten yet and I need to take a shower.”
“How do you know I haven’t eaten yet?” With a pout, you finally dare to look your boyfriend in the face. The way he gapes at you is judgmental and doesn’t make you feel devour-worthy at all.
“I know you,” he scoffs. “You’re just like Jimin. I bet you haven’t even been awake more than two hours.”
Barely a year into your relationship and he’s already reading you like an open book. You can’t stay salty about it when his bread cheeks come out and he’s giggling at the frustrated “hmph” you let out.
“I’ll be fast,” he promises with a smirk that collapses into another fit of giggles. The hearty slap on your ass encourages you toward the kitchen while Taehyung makes his way to the bathroom.
You did already eat, but today is an outlier. Normally, you are like Jimin, staying up too late and sleeping in longer than everyone else. And sometimes you’re like Yoongi, too. You get so caught up in the songs you’re working on that you forget to stop to eat or pee or look somewhere other than at a computer screen.
The move to Seoul threw you off your usual work schedule. Everything you need to get done is looming over your head like a dark cloud. If Namjoon comes back before you finish editing the English lyrics of his upcoming single, you might die of embarrassment, no matter how many times Taehyung insists that Namjoon won’t be disappointed.
Taehyung wasn’t lying about being quick. He’s wearing a white cotton t-shirt and grey sweatpants when he returns, hair damp and swept away from his face. You’re still standing at the fridge, painfully aware of how little food you have. Plenty of grapefruit soju, though. Priorities.
“Do you want ramen?” You eventually ask. When Taehyung doesn’t respond, you turn to give him a sheepish smile. He probably thinks you’re ridiculous.
Taehyung is sitting at the kitchen table with your phone in his hands. His eyebrows scrunch together and he turns to you with narrowed eyes.
“Why were you looking at this?”
He lifts your phone in your direction. The doctored photos of him and Jennie glare back at you. You feel your heart drop into the pit of your stomach.
“Tae, I didn’t—” You snap your mouth shut because, honestly, it looks bad. It looks bad no matter how you explain yourself because Taehyung’s bottom lip is already quivering and you know you’re both replaying the stupid TikTok phone call in your heads right now.
The two of you stare at each other for only god knows how long. You’re the first to break; not many people can hold their own in a staring contest with Kim Taehyung. Yoongi is probably the only one. Jungkook would give a valiant effort, but he’d ultimately crumble in a fit of nervous giggles. Taehyung is scary when he wants to be.
Dating Taehyung started as an unbelievably exciting experience. You had your brush with fame before meeting the boys, but Taehyung was the first idol to give you genuine attention beyond whatever job needed to be done. Not that you’d ever sought it out; you had more dignity than that. No, Taehyung pursued you. Who could blame you when you fell head over heels for the sinfully gorgeous man who seemed larger than life? The long legs, big hands, and chiseled features were dangerous enough. Throw in a glowing personality, quirky sense of humor, and a big-hearted desire to care for others and you had a man who was too good to be true.
And who are you? Some dumb American kid with average looks, a standoff personality as a result of having a bit of social anxiety (and trouble acclimating to a new country), and a penchant for fucking things up. Maybe it was your fault for not seriously considering how hard it was going to be to date an idol.
“C’mere, jagi,” Taehyung murmurs, beckoning you.
You expected waterworks— hell, you’re ready to start crying yourself. Instead, Taehyung wears a tired but soft smile. He holds your waist as you climb into his lap, straddling him. He wiggles a little in the chair to adjust you more comfortably on his thighs.
“Koreaboo, really?” He gathers your face in his hands, thumbs running across your cheeks. His hands are soft and you regret not washing your face when you woke up. Sometimes it’s not fun to date someone as beautiful as Taehyung.
“It was an accident.”
You avoid his gaze, but Taehyung coaxes you back to look him in the eyes. It’s hard. There’s so much passion swimming in them. He blinks up at you with an earnestness that makes your heart ache because you’re always the one causing problems.
“They could have at least used better pictures of me,” he complains with an exaggerated pout.
“Maybe I’ll send them some from my private collection.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Taehyung grins as he threatens you, so you grin back.
“Oh, I dare.”
Quick fingers dig into your sides and you let out an embarrassing squeal. Taehyung doesn’t let up on tickling you until you’ve got tears in your eyes and your threats to elbow him in the face start sounding a bit too real.
“Please don’t torture yourself with shit like that, okay?” He mumbles the request into your neck because your arms are thrown around his shoulders.
You slide your fingers into his hair to cradle his head against your chest. When you dig your nails into his scalp he lets out a low groan. Nothing about the position you’re in is sexual, but you’re quickly reminded that this is the most skin-on-skin contact you’ve had with your boyfriend in months. With that fact in mind, you don’t feel bad when you scoot further into his lap and squeeze his thighs with your own.
“Tae?”
“Hmm?” When he tilts his head back to look up at you, he’s got that spacey, blissed-out look on his face.
“Tell me you love me.” You place your finger against the little freckle on the tip of his nose.
The slow, boxy grin is almost better than hearing the words. Your finger migrates to touch the freckle on his lip.
“I love you with all my heart.” He punctuates the confession with a kiss on the tip of your finger. “Your turn.”
You roll your eyes, but it’s the reaction he’s looking for.
“I love you, too. You dork.”
“So romantic,” he laughs, but the amusement doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he watches you with lust darker than what consumed his expression earlier.
You sit with your breath burning in your lungs as Taehyung slips his hands beneath your baggy t-shirt. His smooth palms slide up your rib cage until he reaches your tits, palming one in each hand. The tilt of his chin tells you he wants another kiss, and who are you to deny him what he wants? You dig your nails in his hair harder while you kiss him, tugging to angle his head in the direction you want. Small moments like this give the appearance that you’re in control. And Taehyung loves domming while you both pretend you’re the one in charge.
He pulls back with a wet smack. If it was anyone else, you’d be ashamed of the whimper that sounds from your throat as Taehyung removes his hands from your shirt. You grip his hair tighter, but Taehyung just chuckles.
“So needy. What am I going to do with you?”
You could give him a couple of ideas. There isn’t time, though. Taehyung is already grasping your chin and tilting it down.
“Open up for me, okay?”
Your cheeks grow hot as you open your mouth. You already know where this is going, so you stick out your tongue. Still, it’s difficult not to squirm when Taehyung presses his index and middle fingers flat against the wet muscle.
“Suck.”
You swallow around his fingers, sucking as best you can as he begins to thrust them into your mouth. It’s vulgar, the wet suctioning sound of his fingers dragging against your tongue. In and out, a steady pace that doesn’t go too fast. Taehyung has such long, gorgeous fingers. You quite enjoy when he wrecks your insides with them until you’re on the brink of tears. Which you’ve come to find is something Taehyung thoroughly enjoys doing.
“You miss having your pretty mouth stuffed?”
You know any attempt at a spoken response will come out as a garbled mess. You whimper, eyes fluttering closed as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. You push your tongue in between his fingers and curl around them.
“Gonna suck my cock like this, jagi?” He purrs the question, ending it so breathy it’s almost a moan as he eases over the term of endearment. “Show me how much you miss me, hm?”
Maybe it’s the deep, sensual way he purrs jagi with heavy eyelids and that crooked smirk on his face. Maybe it’s because he bites his lip when he says it or that he lets his lip go with such slowness that you can see the way his teeth scrape across his plump bottom lip as it falls back into place. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s shoving his fingers just a bit deeper into your mouth. Maybe it’s all of these things that make you shift so that you can press your clothed pussy against Taehyung’s thigh.
He flexes the muscle as you start rutting against it, rolling your hips to the rhythm of his fingers gliding in and out of your mouth.
“Look at you.” His lips brush against the curve of your ear, sending a shiver down your back. “So desperate for me that you’re going to get off on only my thighs?”
You’re not the type to be able to orgasm just from rutting and friction like this, but Taehyung has managed to learn your body faster than you ever expected. He slips his free hand beneath the waistband of your leggings and underwear. It’s the quick circling of his thumb against your throbbing clit combined with the rutting of your hips that sends you over the edge.
“That’s it, baby, you did so well,” Taehyung whispers praise against the skin his lips have access to on your collarbones as you shudder in his lap. “Love seeing you cum, fuck, doing this shit over KakaoTalk fucking sucked.”
Taehyung finally removes his fingers from your mouth when you stop moving. Seeing the string of spit that connects his fingers to your lips makes you feel weak, but you’re riding the high of his praise and skillful fingers, so you don’t care.
He wipes your spit onto his sweatpants and gently holds your chin with his other hand. He gives you a soft smile and rubs his thumb over your bottom lip. You can taste yourself when you flick your tongue over the trail his thumb left.
“I missed you so much,” he admits with a gentle kiss on your lips. “And not just because of this. I missed all of you, everything about you, just being with you.”
“I missed you, too.”
It’s meant to be a confirmation of your mutual love, but it comes out like a whine. You know Taehyung doesn’t mind from the way his eyes zero in on your tongue running along your bottom lip. You don’t have to say anything more for him to know what you want. He nods once and you’re almost immediately on your knees between his legs.
“Fuck.” He leans back in the chair and lifts his hips so you can tug his sweatpants down his thighs. “Gonna be good for me, baby?”
You quickly nod your head, though you’re focused on gently taking Taehyung’s cock in your hand. Alex isn’t wrong. Taehyung’s dick is big, but that doesn’t mean you have to go around talking about it. That’s for you to know and for others to wonder about.
You had to sign an NDA before you were allowed to see it, anyway, but you’d keep your mouth shut even if no legal action would be taken against you for gossiping.
“Kiss it first.”
He tongues the inside of his cheek as he watches you. His eyelids droop lower when you plant a puckered, open-mouthed kiss on the head of his cock. You press the tip of your tongue against the slit to lick at the precum already leaking from him. The buck of his hips isn’t unexpected, but you feel like you need to remember how to do all of this after being away from him for so long. Not to mention how tired your jaw is about to be.
Taehyung seems to sense your hesitation because he allows his body to go slack beneath you. The hand that has reached down to dig into your scalp doesn’t let up, but he doesn’t push your head down like he normally would when you finally slide his cock down your throat.
He doesn’t buck his hips again, even when you drool so much that the inside of his thighs become just as wet as yours. You squeeze the base of his cock, twisting your wrist to the rhythm you’ve established when you can’t take all of him into your mouth.
You reach down to gently roll his balls with your free hand. His cock twitches against your flattened tongue and you hum with satisfaction.
“God, your fucking mouth–”
You make eye contact with Taehyung as your hand ventures lower. There’s nothing more beautiful than the way his face crumples with pleasure when you massage his perineum.
“Shit, I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop,” he whines.
You ease up slightly but still suckle on the head of his cock for longer than Taehyung wants. Why not have a little fun? All you’ll end up doing is riling him up even more, and that can only be a good thing for you.
Taehyung digs his fingers into your hair and yanks you up. It stings, but the pain might as well be white-hot pleasure once Taehyung is praising you with a gravelly voice.
“You’re too fucking good at that.”
You don’t even like sucking dick, but you’d do it all day, every day if Taehyung asked you to. But since he made you stop, you have other priorities to take care of, like the fact that there are way too many layers of clothes separating you from your boyfriend. While you were on your knees for him, Taehyung removed his shirt. The white cotton is discarded on the floor beside the chair and his half-dry hair is tousled around his head in a messiness only he could successfully pull off.
After wiggling out of your leggings and underwear, you climb back onto Taehyung’s lap. His broad chest shudders beneath your touch as you run your hands down to meet his soft tummy. His responsiveness strokes the ego you didn’t realize you have.
“Y’know, you never gave me the chance to ask you how travel went.”
“Seriously?” He knows you’re teasing, but you like the mock-irritated tone of his voice. It makes his chest rumble.
You use your grip on him to stabilize yourself as you grind into his lap. You scrape your nails at the nape of his neck and suck on his bottom lip. Taehyung moans into your mouth, low and throaty, when his cock glides through your wet folds as you roll your hips. He lets you pull his hair, head falling back to expose the smooth plane of his throat. Your lips leave his to latch onto his throat instead. The kisses you give him are slippery and biting and hot.
“No hickeys, Y/N.”
Taehyung’s scolding is deep and sharp; you both know he’s not fucking around. It’s a command he has had to throw your way more than once. The idea of marking him up is just so appetizing, but you know you can’t. Sure, makeup can make just about anything disappear, but it’s annoying to deal with and Taehyung isn’t particularly a fan of the side looks the makeup artists give each other when they see dark bruises littering his neck and collarbones.
Maybe you’ll give him just a tiny one and suffer the consequences later.
You cling onto him tighter when you feel two of his fingers slip inside of you. Spreading your thighs as wide as you can without throwing off your balance on the chair, you roll your hips into Taehyung’s hand to take his fingers deeper.
“Please,” you moan against his neck. You can smell your shampoo and body wash on him. Something about him smelling like you makes you feel overwhelmingly possessive. He’s yours. Kim Taehyung is yours.
He turns his head to the side to capture your lips with his own as he snakes his arm around your waist. The position allows him to pull you tightly against his chest. He holds you in place as he starts thrusting his fingers into your pussy just as he had thrust them into your mouth.
Taehyung grunts as he keeps his legs spread in the chair, which in turn forces your thighs open when you try to squeeze them closed around his hand.
“Stay still.”
“Can’t.” You shake your head and thread your fingers through his hair, tugging the strands harder.
It’s too much; Taehyung lights a fire against every inch of your body each time he touches you. If he was anyone else, you’d be singed, but Taehyung takes such good care of you. You’re not singed. You’re ignited.
“You have no fucking idea,” Taehyung takes a deep breath, “No fucking idea how badly I’ve been craving you.” He warms you up with each thrust of his fingers, adding a third until you’re clawing at his shoulders.
“So, ahh fuck, fuck me,” you gasp, your mouth hot against the corner of his jaw. Your teeth scrape against his skin and he merely lets his head fall back to give you more.
“No please?”
You bite his cheek in defiance and get a slap to the ass that only makes you want to bite him more.
“Don’t be mean to me,” you whimper.
Taehyung’s steady rhythm against your front wall has your orgasm burning so hotly in your core that you feel like you’re going to cum if he even so much as turns his head to look at you one more time.
Your thighs are already sore by the time Taehyung removes his fingers from your pussy. He uses your sticky arousal as lube to stroke his cock and you don’t want to think about how excited you are about this.
“Hurry up.”
Taehyung raises his eyebrows at you just as he grips the inside of your thigh with one hand. The other he uses to line his cock with your body. You can feel the head press against your entrance, and you try to push your body down to swallow him whole, but Taehyung holds you up to stop you.
“Impatient cockslut, aren’t you?” Taehyung chides.
His previously spacey look is sharpened by the sparkle of mirth in his eyes. Your body tenses when he spits the insult at you, and he knows it’s making your clit throb even harder.
“Tae.” You bite your lip because you’re close to begging at this point.
Luckily, you don’t have to. Taehyung presses down your hip and you quickly take the lead, easing yourself onto his cock until you’re fully seated on his firm thighs.
Your body burns from the stretch it has to make to accommodate him, but you knew it would. Even when you’re fully adjusted to him, there’s always a bit of a stretch. He also knows he has to let you ease into it to avoid slamming himself straight into your cervix. The first time it had happened, Taehyung genuinely thought he’d broken you. You kind of thought so, too, if you were going to be perfectly honest. The struggle of having a big-dicked boyfriend.
“Okay?” He’s watching you with those lustful, dark eyes.
“Mhm,” you hum because you’re afraid of the way your voice will quiver if you try to say real words.
You’re so full, it’s a bit overwhelming. Not just physically, but emotionally, too. You missed Taehyung a lot, but holding onto each other in such an intimate position is making you realize just how lonely you were without him.
“I’m gonna move, okay?”
He waits until you silently nod your head before he adjusts in the chair, scooting down slightly to spread his legs better. You allow him to adjust your legs, bending them at the knee and hooking them over the arms of the chair. With a tight grip on your ass, Taehyung pulls you down onto his cock at the same time he thrusts up into you.
The pace Taehyung sets is desperate, but you don’t care. Your second orgasm is approaching at an alarming speed. It feels like it’s taking all of your energy to simply stay grounded with reality as Taehyung squeezes you and your hips crash into each other. You don’t even try to do anything, just let him take over your body as he pounds into you. For the most part, you’re a pillow princess and you both know it. Besides, how can you possibly keep up with someone so athletic? Taehyung’s stamina is ridiculous. Neither of you has an overstimulation kink, but Taehyung’s ability to just go and go and go might as well have given you one. None of this has ever bothered Taehyung, though. He likes giving more than receiving.
“Oh fuck.” Taehyung nips at the base of your neck when you clench around his cock just to feel him shiver.
There aren’t any rules about him marking you up. The petty side of him likes when you wear the dark bruises in the open, with no makeup or clothing to hide them. It’s a satisfying game he likes to play. He likes that everyone knows you’re getting dicked down and, therefore, are taken.
You like the secret satisfaction of knowing it’s Kim Taehyung who gives you those marks, and no one even knows.
What you don’t like is thinking about all the other people Taehyung may have enjoyed giving marks to.
It’s hard not to let your mind wander. Taehyung has never talked to you about his previous relationships, and there’s no way for you to know about them if he doesn’t tell you. The media can’t be trusted to accurately report idols’ love lives; today has been a perfect example of that. You’re stuck with only your imagination to make up all kinds of scenarios. Maybe Taehyung has been with other k-pop idols, or models, or actresses - people with more money, who are prettier and more sophisticated than you. Hell, you’ve never even asked him about his sexuality. What if he really has been fucking Jungkook! What if they’re in love and you’re just something temporary?
“I was made for you, jagi. You know that?” Taehyung’s breath is hot against your skin. His words are gentle, but the power with which he thrusts up into you is bruising. “Made for you.”
It’s as if he can read your mind, as if he can somehow sense the insecurities threatening to pull you out of the moment. As always, Taehyung manages to bring you back to the present.
Fuck, sometimes you wish he wouldn’t do shit like this to you. You’re already pathetically in love with him. You can’t imagine what more could come next, yet you feel yourself practically bursting from the seams with love.
Your moans fall in line with the sound of the chair scraping the floor and your skin slapping against Taehyung’s with every thrust. When your mouth falls open, Taehyung presses his thumb against your tongue. With eyes fluttering closed, you suck on his thumb and try to hold on as your body rocks up and down.
“Fuck, fuck, oh, god, Taehyung.”
“Yeah, jagi?” Taehyung pulls down on the corner of your mouth until his thumb is dragging spit across your cheek. “Tell me.”
His voice is so soothing it makes you want to cry. It’s unfair.
“You feel so fucking—“
It’s the slick pressure of his thumb massaging your clit that finally has you arching your back with a scream of Taehyung’s name. You’re so loud that you worry your neighbors heard you. There are plenty of people named Taehyung in the world, though, right? He could be any Taehyung.
If you ask Taehyung later, he’ll probably say he can’t even remember his own name because of how tightly you clench around his cock when you cum. The feeling is so overwhelming that you think you might pass out from holding your breath. You gasp, inhaling more air than you exhale, but Taehyung keeps going. Every subsequent thrust knocks the air out of you until you have the opposite problem and now you can’t keep any air in.
“I’m gonna…”
“Go ahead, baby. Cum inside me.”
Taehyung whimpers into the crook of your neck as he cums, the suggestiveness of your permission not lost on either of you. You’re on birth control and Taehyung knows a kid would probably ruin his career. So it doesn’t actually mean anything when you tell him he can stay inside; you’re not getting pregnant any time soon. Still, he gets off on coming inside of you, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.
“I was going to make a joke that I should go on tour more often if that means I’ll cum that hard again, but I think I don’t want to go on tour ever again,” Taehyung admits with a shaky laugh.
Just the idea of Taehyung leaving you for months on end again makes your stomach twist. He brings so much life to everywhere he goes, and you felt like much of that life left you when he did. Even if it was only temporary.
Taehyung holds you until his cock is no longer twitching inside of you. Once his arms finally fall to his side, you try to untangle yourself from the chair as his body, but your limbs might as well belong to someone else.
“Help,” you squeak hoarsely. You feel like covering your face when Taehyung laughs.
Taehyung helps you out of his lap, though you both are so wobbly on your feet that you hold onto the edge of the kitchen table when you stand. Taehyung looks wrecked, and you feel wrecked. You’re not sure your knees will ever work properly again.
“Why are we still listening to Stray Kids?” Taehyung grumbles when he realizes the speakers are still playing in the background.
“It’s a good album.”
“We should be fucking to my songs.” Taehyung pauses for a moment, thinking.“‘Christmas Tree’ is a fuckable song, right?”
“You’re joking.”
Taehyung shakes his head and reaches for your phone. His face is programmed to unlock your phone, just like your face unlocks his phone. You don’t understand how he can stand butt naked in the kitchen, cum all over his thighs, and search for the jazz playlist he made on your Spotify account.
(“Jazz Hands, Y/N. It’s a vibe.”)
Once his playlist has replaced Stray Kids, Taehyung wraps you up in a giant bear hug that lifts you off your feet. The hug nearly knocks the air out of you.
“Can’t believe you made me dirty after I just showered.” You can’t see his pout, but you can hear it.
“You’re the one who started this.”
Taehyung scoffs. He starts walking down the hallway, practically dragging you in his arms as he goes. Your toes barely reach the ground, but you’re more content to let your body fall slack and make him do all the work.
He kicks open the bathroom door and sits you down on the counter.
“No, you did this. You looked at me with those pretty eyes and said, ‘Tae’.” He tries to mimic your voice by moaning his name. “I’m a weak, weak man. You influenced me. I just wanted you to eat.”
“Well, I did eat.”
Taehyung presses his lips together. “Don’t say it.”
“I’m gonna say it.” You lean forward on the edge of the counter, trying to get in Taehyung’s space, but he’s ignoring you as he prepares the shower.
“Y/N.”
“I ate…”
“Stop.”
“Deez nuts.”
Taehyung drags his hands down his face, leaving his skin red. His reaction makes you giggle.
“Technically you only played with deez nuts. Your mouth, sadly, did not ever come near my—” He tries to correct you, but you’re already throwing a scrunchie at his face.
“You’re ruining the joke!”
“It’s a bad joke!”
Maybe your sense of humor is way better than his, but as you suffer another Taehyung tickle attack, you can’t help but feel ridiculous for how you’d behaved earlier. How can he look at you with sparkling eyes and a boxy smile that makes him laugh with his teeth, hand coming up to cover his face when you give him your poutiest of pouts— how can you see such genuine kindness and think Taehyung would ever do anything to jeopardize what you have?
“Wassup motherfuckers!”
You raise your eyebrows at Namjoon and tap the end of your chewed pen against your computer screen. Biting pens isn’t sanitary or cute but you do it anyway. The man’s eyes aren’t on your pen cap, though. He’s staring a hole into the podcast you pulled up because you know he doesn’t want to look at you.
“Namjoon, why did you start the episode like that? This is not your Automatic Dick era,” you say with a deep sigh.
“Beoryeo.”
“Excuse me?”
“The song. It’s called ‘Throw Away’, not… Automatic… Dick…” His correction dies on his tongue when he sees the exasperated look on your face.
“That is not the point.” You shake your head and exit the website. You’re not in charge of PR. That’s someone else’s problem.
Your attention turns to the newest draft of the song you’ve been stressing out about since you arrived in Seoul.
“This, though? This is fucking beautiful.” You adjust your laptop on the coffee table so Namjoon can better view the document. The two of you are at the dorm, lounging in the living room.
There are a lot of highlighted lines and many comments throughout the document. You wish you were like the members who scribbled their lyrics in cute leather journals, but your brain is too much of a disaster and broken by technology. If you don’t have your laptop, you can't write lyrics for shit.
“How are you so eloquent in Korean, but in English, you’re so…” You wave your hands around like you’re rifling through the air for the rest of your sentence.
“Casual?”
“Yes.” Sure, we’ll go with that, Joonie.
“Well, that’s why I’ve got you!”
At least he thinks you’re eloquent. The boys probably think you’re spending all your time in your office easily pulling masterpieces out of your ass when in reality you’re Googling, “what's the word for when you can't remember a word?”
It’s lethologica, by the way.
You love Namjoon, but sometimes you think he has too much faith in you. Writing songs is hard. He of all people would know that. The difference between you and Namjoon is that when Namjoon struggles with writing he gets all emo, buys a bunch of weird furniture, and flies to another country to look at foreign art. When you struggle with writing, you just go home and play video games with Taehyung until you’re ready to try again.
You’re both practicing avoidance, but Namjoon’s method just looks a little more dramatic than yours. Despite his assumptions, that doesn’t mean you’re better at handling yourself. You just do things differently.
“We’re so lucky to have Jagi PD!”
Namjoon groans and covers his head with the hood of his hoodie as Jungkook flies into the living room.
Strong hands cup your armpits to lift you off of the couch. While Jungkook is crushing every bone in your body as he hugs you, all you can think about is how you were kind of a little bit sweaty, and now Jungkook has his hands all in your armpits.
“Jungkookie, don’t pick people up without their consent.”
Hobi enters the room behind the younger man and gives him a stern look which makes Jungkook immediately put you down on your feet.
“Sorry, Y/N,” Jungkook says with a pout and galaxies in his eyes. You give his shoulder a playful smack. His baggy black t-shirt sticks to his skin, and you’re less worried about being sweaty. Jungkook is soaked.
“Don’t worry about it, kid. I’m tough.” You flex your nonexistent muscles to make the precious maknae laugh his pout away.
“You should come train with us, Jagi.”
“Jungkook,” Namjoon exclaims from where he still sits on the couch.
He turns to his friend with wide eyes. “What?”
“Stop calling Y/N ‘jagi’. Taehyung is going to kill you.” This time Jimin pipes up.
You hadn’t realized he’d entered the room, too. The three newcomers are varying degrees of sweaty with pink cheeks and wearing workout clothes. You suppose they’ve just come back from working out or perhaps a dance practice. They’ve all been back from tour for a few weeks now, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned about the Bangtan Boys it’s that they never fucking rest.
It’s exhausting just to think about it.
“It’s okay,” you say with a shrug. “I think ‘Jagi PD’ is pretty fucking funny, to be honest.”
The nickname Jungkook created for you is cute in your opinion. You are a music producer. Jagi PD is better than using your last name. It could be like your stage name. Maybe you can get Namjoon to credit you as Jagi PD under the songs you write. Using your first and last name seems lame when it’s paired with fun names like SUGA, RM, j-hope, and Slow Rabbit.
“Pretty fucking funny,” Jungkook repeats. He gives the other men a triumphant look before launching himself onto the couch with Jimin.
Hobi chooses to sit on the couch on the opposite side of the room with Namjoon. From the way Namjoon has nestled back into his seat, it’s clear that his song will have to wait. It’s for the best. You’re not thinking about music anymore.
You can’t blame Jungkook for interrupting your work, but the true source of distraction saunters into the room with his arms full of grocery bags.
“Hey, jagiya,” Taehyung greets you sweetly with a kiss on your forehead as he walks through the living room to get to the kitchen. The final two men, Jin and Yoongi, trail behind Taehyung with their own bags.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jimin give Jungkook a pointed look when Taehyung uses the term of endearment.
“What are you guys making?” Jungkook is curled up against the arm of the couch with his phone in hand. He’s holding it sideways which makes you think he’s probably playing In The Seom. The app is old news by this point, yet Jungkook’s attention is still consumed by it. It’s hilarious.
You wish you could meet the game developers. Whoever made Taehyung’s character look so fucking feral deserves a raise.
“You’re gonna cook?” You don’t hide your shock at the idea that Taehyung would be cooking anything, and that makes everyone laugh.
“I’m making dinner,” Yoongi clarifies. “And it’s a surprise, so stop paying attention to me.” He shoos Jin and Taehyung out of the kitchen.
Jin sits on the couch with Jimin and Jungkook, while Taehyung sits with you. The armchair really only seats one person comfortably, but you wiggle so Taehyung can sit half next to you and half under you. He arranges your legs to drape over his lap. It’s nice, being this close. You can snuggle into his side and let him wrap his arms around you without worrying about who can see or what people think. All the boys are supportive of your relationship with Taehyung. It’s a bit frustrating that there’s no way for you to fully express how appreciative you are.
“Well, what are we supposed to do?” From the couch in the living room, Jungkook shoots Yoongi a glare as if Yoongi’s request for some alone time while he cooks is a personal attack.
Yoongi snorts and turns his back on Jungkook to begin unloading the groceries. “I don’t know, talk to each other.”
“You guys are boring. I only want to talk to Y/N.” You’re not sure how you’ve become Jungkook’s favorite, but it’s exceptionally endearing.
“You’re not even going to pay attention,” Namjoon points out. “Always on that damn phone.”
He’s still got his hood up, and he looks like he was half-asleep. No one but you gets the joke, so Namjoon nods his head in your direction before returning to his slumped position.
“I like watching Jimin-ssi’s character spin around in little circles.”
“It’s cute, isn’t it?” Jin chimes in. “He looks so small.”
The glares Jimin shoots everyone in the room are terrifying. You think about something you’d heard someone say: the shorter the person, the closer to hell they are. Something dramatic that only a tall person would say.
“All the characters are the same size,” he exclaims. “And I don’t do that!”
“Yes, you do. There are fanmade compilation videos of you spinning around, Jimin-ssi! I’ve watched them,” Jungkook confesses with full confidence.
A small squeal sounds from the opposite side of the room. You turn to see Hobi practically bouncing on the couch.
“Please, can we watch some? I want to hear the cute sound effects.”
A pillow flies across the room, and Hobi just barely dodges it. Jimin crosses his arms firmly against his chest and scowls as Jin and Jungkook enthusiastically agree and Hobi snatches the TV remote before anyone else can.
“At least watch a video that isn’t about me doing something embarrassing,” Jimin breaks down enough to plead (not beg!) with Hobi. He eyes the room and his gaze falls on Taehyung. A small smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth and you feel Taehyung slowly exhale. “We should watch one about TaeTae.”
You try to cover your laughter with a cough, but Taehyung applies a light slap to your thigh in retaliation.
“Why me?” he pouts.
“Yes! Let me pick!”
“Jungkookie, no. It was my idea.” Hobi scrolls through his phone until his face lights up with glee. “I’ve watched this one before and it’s so cute, Y/N, you’re going to love it.”
“The suspense is killing me.” You wiggle your eyebrows at Taehyung. The rolled eyes you’re met with feel like a victory.
“Okay, it’s called, BTS struggling to understand ‘Tae-tae language’,” Hobi prefaces while the video loads on the TV.
Jin laughs at the loud snort you let out. “TaeTae language is hard to understand.”
“Maybe you guys aren’t creative enough to understand me,” Taehyung scoffs.
“Hey! I understand you!” Yoongi protests from the kitchen.
Taehyung looks like he might say more, but the video interrupts him. It starts with highlights from the comments section of previous videos. One comment mentions Namjoon being their bias.
“Is that weird? Like, to watch this kind of stuff and hear people talk about their biases?” If you were famous, you were absolutely positive that you’d never Google yourself. You would not want to know what kind of weird shit was out there about you, even something as seemingly innocent as silly compilation videos.
“I think it’s funny,” Jimin says with a smirk and half-moon eyes. “I’m everyone’s bias, anyway.”
“That’s not what TikTok says.” Jungkook turns his nose upward at Jimin, though his eyes never leave his phone. It’s a shame In The Seom didn’t allow him to drown Jimin in the ocean, or he totally would have done it by now.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just check how many videos there are under my hashtag.”
Jimin snorts with a roll of his eyes, seemingly dismissing Jungkook’s claims. But you see him twist on the couch so the younger man can’t see that Jimin pulls up TikTok on his phone. As if TikTok was the end all, be all. You want to tell them it’s impossible to know who’s the most “popular” or whatever, but you know that conversation is futile.
“Y/N, you were Army before you started dating Tae!” You can practically see the light bulb going off in Hobi’s brain. Or, rather, the Army bomb. “Who was your bias?”
Hobi’s question barely leaves his lips when the room grows quiet. Seven pairs of eyes stare at you expectantly, including your boyfriend’s. You keep your eyes on the TV, though you aren’t seeing the compilation video playing anymore.
“I don’t know. I didn’t have a bias. Y’know, OT7 and all that shit.”
Suddenly, the room erupts. Screeches of protests and arguments are shouted across the living room, the boys yelling on top of one another and slewing insults at each other.
“Oh come on, Y/N, tell us!” Hobi whines.
“Yeah, we wanna know! We won’t judge you.” Pulling this precious information out of you is so vital that Jungkook looks away from his phone long enough to give you a pouty face.
“It’s obviously me. I’m Worldwide Handsome.”
“Leave her alone, guys.” Taehyung shifts in his seat and adjusts how your legs drape over his lap. His large hands massage soft circles into your calf muscles. “This is so childish.”
“Right. A bias is just whoever a fan is partial to,” Namjoon says with a shrug. “What matters is that fans support us as seven.”
“No, a bias is the one the fan wants to fuck the most.” This time Jungkook doesn’t look up from his phone when he speaks.
Jin hums in agreement, winking in your direction and making Taehyung scowl.
“You’re just scared it’s not you, Tae.” For someone Taehyung calls his soulmate, Jimin seems to jump at every opportunity to fuck with his friend. He turns to you with those haunting siren eyes that lure in even God’s strongest soldiers. “Is he, Y/N? Is your bias Taehyung or someone else?”
“I thought Hobi’s question was, who was my bias? Not is.”
His siren eyes narrow at you. “Stop arguing semantics and answer the question.”
You can’t hold a staring contest with the now-paused Youtube video, and Jimin’s sudden snappiness makes you feel the need to look away. Right into the eyes of your answer, the only person who hasn’t spoken during the entire bias conversation.
Yoongi’s sharp eyes catch yours when you look away from the TV. Never one to miss a beat, he raises a perfectly-shaped eyebrow at you, the ghost of his classic Yoongi smirk barely lifting the corner of his mouth before the entire room erupts into shouting again.
“YOONGI?! REALLY?! OUT OF ALL OF US, YOU PICKED HIM?” Jimin jumps up from the couch, knocking pillows all over the floor.
“Watch it, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi scolds the younger man for his informal language. Jimin only rolls his eyes.
“Damn, Jimin was right. You aren’t her bias, TaeTae.” Jin shakes his head with a solemn look. He gets up to leave the room, giving your boyfriend a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he walks past. “I’m going to my room to play Mario Kart. This is too depressing for me.”
At the mention of video games, Jungkook perks up. “Wait Jin hyungie, I wanna play, too!” He tosses the last couch pillow in Jimin’s lap and scrambles to catch up with Jin halfway down the hall.
Yoongi wears a full-blown smirk now. You watch with wide eyes as his tongue slips out to drag across his bottom lip before he’s drawing his lip between his teeth. “Cute.”
“Fuck off,” Taehyung hisses at the older man, lifting your legs off his lap.
“Tae…” You reach out to grab his arm to stop him, but he’s already heading to his bedroom. The door slams shut so hard that the photos on the walls shudder.
You turn back around to glare at the remaining men. “Did you have your fun, hmm? Was it worth it?”
“I really… I didn’t think…” Hobi fumbles his words, clearly uncomfortable with the outbursts he’d unwittingly caused.
“If it doesn’t work out with Taehyung, call me, yeah?” Yoongi sends you a wink, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek.
You feel your face heat up and you refuse to look at him. You wait until he goes back to preparing the food before you stand up. Without another word, you follow in Taehyung’s footsteps until you reach his door. It’s locked, but you expected as much.
“TaeTae,” you call softly. “Please let me in.”
You wait in silence long enough that you consider going home. If Taehyung doesn’t want to talk to you, you aren’t going to push him. Even if you think the reason for his outburst is stupid and that he’s acting like a child.
Eventually, the door is opened wide enough for you to slip inside. Taehyung doesn’t look at you when he shuts the door. Instead, he sits on his bed and leans his back against the wall. He keeps his eyes on his hands delicately folded together in his lap. His eyes are already red and slightly puffy. The sight is glass in your veins.
“Tae, please don’t be upset,” you start slowly. Climbing into his bed, you scoot until you’re lounging next to him. He doesn’t pull away when you rest your head on his shoulder.
“It’s embarrassing.”
You let out a small sigh, not because you’re frustrated with him but because you’d known watching fanmade videos would turn out to be a bad idea.
“If it makes you feel better, you were still in my bias line.” It’s probably not the best way to reassure your boyfriend, but it at least makes him look at you.
“Who else?” His eyes are narrowed.
“I don’t think I should answer that.”
Taehyung’s bottom lip droops and you feel your heart seize.
“Okay, okay!” Maybe holding his hand will make it better. “Jimin, but, no don’t give me that look! Just listen.”
Taehyung’s pout deepens, but he doesn’t interrupt you.
“It’s not like when I hang out with Jimin or Yoongi I’m thinking about those things, okay? It’s just a natural thing that happens. Anyone can be drawn to specific people in a group; the same thing happens with friendships. Like you and Jimin. It’s normal.”
Taehyung doesn’t seem convinced, but he laces his fingers through yours. You interpret the light squeeze he gives you as permission to continue talking.
“Yoongi is cool because I always saw him as this, like, mental health icon for me. He talks so much about mental health and fans see how he has grown and gotten healthier over the years. It’s inspiring, right? You’ve seen it firsthand.”
“That’s true,” Taehyung sniffles.
You nod your head. “Exactly, I respect him as a person and an artist. And with Jimin, I’ve always been almost jealous? of him. Because he can so beautifully balance both masculine and feminine qualities and aesthetics. He looks good no matter what and has learned to accept himself instead of forcing whatever weird masculinity shit y’all had when you debuted. That’s inspiring, too.”
Taehyung is silent for a while. You give him the space to process what you’ve said, and you hope that it’s enough to make him understand that a bias is not just about who you want to fuck. Jungkook is such a flirt; of course, that’s how he would interpret things.
“Why did you like me?” He finally looks at you. His eyes are a little pink from his tears, but his cheeks appear dry. The innocent curiosity in his expression tugs at your heart.
You reach up to run your fingers through his fluffy hair, combing out any tangles and gently massaging his scalp. This is probably how Taehyung feels when you worry about fans, paparazzi, and sasaengs.
“Well, you’re hot,” you say with a grin. You feel a bit lighter when Taehyung’s mouth curves slightly, too.
“Is that it?”
“Of course not.” You stick your tongue out. “You were my favorite in the vocal line. I loved how smooth your singing voice is, and how thoughtful you sound when you talk about how important the members and Army are to you. How could someone not love the inventor of I purple you?”
It feels weird to talk about how you liked Taehyung before you knew who he was. You never made your status as a fan obvious in the beginning. Professionalism is more important than fangirling. Even now, you only casually discuss your interest in the group before meeting them.
“Your sense of fashion made me laugh. You always seemed so happy, even though people like to focus a lot on how mean you can look. And I thought your relationships with Yoongi and Jimin were cute. You’re a great example of how men can and should be soft and loving.”
They’re all highly-simplified explanations for why Taehyung caught your eye in a group of seven, but they seem to put him at ease. He slides into the bed so he’s lying on his back under the covers. With his eyes locked on yours, he pats his chest.
“C’mere.”
You lie down under the covers next to him. It feels nice to rest your head on his chest and throw your leg over his waist. Ever since Taehyung came back from the tour, you’ve wanted to be attached at the hip. It’s not that you can’t handle being alone, but you don’t think it’s a bad thing to want to be with the people who bring you joy— especially when you live in a new country.
“You know I’m in love with you, not Yoongi or Jimin.”
“I know.”
“Do you actually?” You shift your head so you can look up at him.
Taehyung meets you halfway. You let your eyes close as he slots his lips with yours, allowing your body to melt into his. The desperation the two of you had for each other when Taehyung first returned to Seoul eventually died out. Now, you’re okay with taking things slow. You can savor the feeling of his body on yours, firm and warm beneath you. You can savor the smell of his cologne and his taste as you breathe him in and slip your tongue inside his mouth.
“I do,” he responds with a heavy exhale once you pull away. “I’m sorry I got upset. I just got so angry when hyung…” Taehyung scrunches his eyebrows and his nose scrunches along with them.
You massage his forehead and try to forcefully smooth the wrinkles there. “Yoongi is just being an ass. He loves you, too,” you point out.
Taehyung can’t argue that, so he leans down to kiss you again. You know how important physical contact is to him, especially when he’s upset. With that in mind, you slip your hands beneath his t-shirt. Splaying your hands flat against his chest feels nice. It’s a reminder that he’s real, and he’s here. He’s safe and healthy and yours.
“We both get pretty jealous, huh?”
Taehyung gives you a sheepish smile, all cheeks and pretty lips. You love his little lip freckle, but your favorite will always be the one under his eye.
“Not as bad as Jungkook, though.”
“Mhm, please don’t break up with me over a perilla leaf or anything.”
Taehyung giggles and you feel like you’ve got helium inside you. If you don’t hold onto him tightly enough, you might float away with how light and carefree being with him makes you.
“You won’t get rid of me that easily,” he says as he nibbles your earlobe.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
His hands find the hem of your t-shirt, and you sit up to allow him to undress you. It’s a delicate process because Taehyung wants to take his time, too. It might seem like the two of you use sex to solve your problems, but you never see it like that. For you, letting Taehyung take his time breaking you down, just to build you back up again, is an act of emotional intimacy, just as it is physical. When Taehyung gets comfortable between your thighs, dark eyes locked with yours as he sucks your clit into his mouth, the hold he has on your wrists grounds you. And when he hovers over you with your legs wrapped around his hips as he thrusts into you, you whisper gentle praises against his throat to remind him that you are his and he is yours.
You spend the rest of the afternoon in Taehyung’s bed. It feels good to snuggle with him while he talks to you about all the jazz clubs he forced Jimin to go to during the little free time they had on tour. It seems the tension in the house fades because the rest of the boys are loud and energetic; it’s impossible to tune them out when their laughter bleeds into the room despite the door being closed.
“Do you think Taehyung and Y/N are done having make-up sex?”
“It’s pretty quiet in there. Maybe they fell asleep.”
You groan and bury your face in Taehyung’s side. It’s almost as if Jungkook and Jin are purposefully talking outside of his bedroom to make sure you can hear them. Knowing them, it’s not a far-fetched idea.
“Probably tired themselves out. The screaming was really—”
“JUNGKOOK!” Taehyung sits up so abruptly that you fall back onto the bed. “SHUT THE FUCK UP.”
Jin and Jungkook’s laughter eventually fades down the hallway, but Taehyung gets out of bed anyway.
“Yoongi is probably almost done with dinner,” he grumbles. You watch him zip up his jeans and admire how tall and lanky he is. Sorry to Yoongi and Jimin.
He manages to get his arms caught in his t-shirt somehow, so you begrudgingly get out of bed to help. You tease him endlessly because obviously fucking you is so good that he doesn’t know how to use his limbs anymore.
Your teasing is nothing compared to the way the other boys drag you the moment you step out of Taehyung’s bedroom.
“You okay, Y/N? Sounded like you might be dying,” Jimin grins as he prepares the kitchen table for dinner.
Jin snickers, throwing out his own commentary. “Taehyung, you got it pretty good even though you aren’t her bias, huh.”
Before Taehyung has a chance to bite anyone’s head off, you chime in.
“Yeah, yeah, Yoongi was my bias when I was a fan,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You can practically see Jungkook registering that you said “was a fan”, and that makes him pout. As if you aren’t still a fan. What a baby, just like Taehyung.
Yoongi snorts as he retrieves a dish from the oven. “I cannot fathom why.”
“Me either,” Jimin agrees with a giggle. He’s completely unfazed by the dark look Yoongi shoots him.
You join in on Jimin’s laughter, and you’re pleased to see that Taehyung is smiling too. The whole thing is so ridiculous. Maybe you’re feeling a bit too comfortable because you start oversharing.
“And I was a Yoonmin shipper, I’m not gonna lie.” You’re laughing so hard that you don’t realize neither Jimin nor Taehyung are laughing anymore. After a few seconds pass, though, your smile slowly falls. Jimin’s face has turned bright pink and Yoongi has his back to the table.
“It was one time, okay?” Jimin’s eyes burn holes into Yoongi’s shoulder blades from across the room. “Okay, two times.”
The older man doesn’t comment.
You nudge Taehyung’s leg with your foot under the kitchen table. He presses his lips together as hard as he can, but the smile just gets pushed into his cheeks. A rush of air explodes from his lips in a loud raspberry, and that’s what triggers your laughter again.
“Oh my god, I really wish I was surprised but I’m not,” you confess with a wheeze.
You’ve clearly touched on a sensitive topic. Jimin blabbers away about how it’s not that big of a deal, all while Yoongi silently finishes arranging the dishes on the table. It would feel uncomfortable, but Jimin’s flushed face and the tiniest of smiles curving Yoongi’s lips make you think it meant a lot more than what Jimin wishes to admit.
And that’s really fucking cute.
As the rest of the boys come piling into the kitchen, Taehyung scoots his chair until yours are touching. You bump shoulders and tilt your face up so he can press a kiss against your jaw.
“I love you,” he whispers. “With all my heart."
“I love you, too.” You lace your fingers with his and let your hands rest against his thigh. “You dork.”
The kitchen is chaos, but all you can focus on is the boxy smile Taehyung gifts you.
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Between the Titles
Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader
Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)
warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink
Length: ~9.5k
Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this
Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.
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The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.
As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter.
Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement.
It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding.
You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.
Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.
Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.
Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.
But this morning you have notes to write.
Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.
The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.
A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.
Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy—
I’m in Love with Mothman…
Well there it is.
You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.
Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.
When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back.
His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor.
A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.
Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop.
Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”
“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”
His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place.
“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”
“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”
He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough.
“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”
It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.
“What is it?”
Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.
If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.
“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”
“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”
“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”
Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.
As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.
I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.
Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now.
You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.
The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.
“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.
With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”
“Get in line.”
Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.
Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation.
“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”
“Bummer.”
“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.
Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”
“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”
“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”
Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.
“Yoongi,” you sing.
Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”
You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.
“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”
He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.
“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”
He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.
“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”
With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.
If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.
On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.
You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette.
Of course he smokes.
The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it.
“You know those things will kill you, right?”
“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”
“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”
Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”
The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.
“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth. “Have a good night, Y/N.”
With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.
The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.
Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.
Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.”
“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”
But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.
Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.
“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.
“Are they the right copies this time?”
“Double checked them myself.”
You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.
Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.
Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”
The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”
Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs.
Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.
You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.
Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.
Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.
Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.
“What's this?”
“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.
His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”
Of course he has.
Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.
Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.
You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means.
It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.
You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music.
He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach.
The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.
Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name.
Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection.
“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”
“Oh.”
Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct. “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”
“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”
You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.
A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence.
Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.
The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.
You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.
Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.
A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.
“Looking for something?”
Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.
“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.
Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”
“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”
Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance.
“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down.
Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.
“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.
Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.
“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.
“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”
“Oh.”
“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”
The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.
Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin.
Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf.
The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.
A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his.
The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.
“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”
Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.
Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.
To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.
A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.
Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.
Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.
The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else.
At least that’s what you tell yourself.
A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs.
Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation.
“Yoongi,” you say.
“Y/N.”
You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”
“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”
“What kiss?” you croak.
Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”
“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.
Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along.
“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.
Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”
Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?”
“Yes.”
“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”
Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.
“Yes.”
“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.”
“And he can hear you, so shut up.”
“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books.
He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.
Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months.
“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk.
“Taehyung.”
“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.
Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs.
“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers.
“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”
“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”
“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”
Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.
After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.
“I’m getting coffee.”
“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.
The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch.
You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.
Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.
Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.
‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’
A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’
‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.
‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’
At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.
“Snooping for secrets?”
“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”
“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”
“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”
Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”
“Nope.”
You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours.
This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.
His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again.
“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth.
He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull.
A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive.
Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.
Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder.
His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.
“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”
Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider.
“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.
Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.
“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.
Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.
Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted?
“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.
You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been.
“They were out.”
With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.
“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing.
You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.
“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.
Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”
“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.”
“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.
“Why not?”
“Because…”
Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.
“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”
You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.
When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”
“Why?”
“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”
“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.
Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”
“If you’re leaving, so am I.”
“Why?” your roommate whines.
“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”
“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.”
You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”
“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.
You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.
“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.
It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.
“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?”
“Go ahead.”
The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.
The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.
Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.
Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.
Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.
You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.
Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen.
He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.
You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.
Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.
An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen.
But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning.
Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.
Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.
There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom.
A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.
You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.
“Yoongi?”
A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.
“Jesus, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”
“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”
“This is my job.”
“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”
“Who says it’s stopping me now?”
He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”
You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back.
A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.
“Could have fooled me.”
“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.
“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”
“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”
The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.
“How long? How long have you wanted this?”
Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”
You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.
The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.
“That was months ago.”
“I’m a patient guy.”
You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.
Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”
“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.
“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”
“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”
Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt.
He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg.
You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely.
He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.
His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”
“You thought about this?”
“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”
A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”
“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”
Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”
Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head.
The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.
“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”
Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy.
He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth.
Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.
“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”
The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.
He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.
But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”
Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.
Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.
Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.
“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”
You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry.
It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.
“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down.
“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”
“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”
He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.
You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good.
“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens.
Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.
Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load.
There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side.
You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth.
Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.
He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter.
With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”
“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.
A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”
Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.
Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.
You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school.
After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed.
He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.
You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument.
You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now.
“One of my books is missing,” you say.
“Oh, right.”
Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.
Maybe He Just Likes You
And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’
Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt
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𝐍𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 ᵏᵗʰ
╰ ⌞🇰🇮🇲 🇹🇦🇪🇭🇾🇺🇳🇬 🇫🇮🇨🇸⌝
𝐍𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 ━━ ❝Someone—𝘈𝘤𝘬—help me—𝘈𝘤𝘬—get this—𝘈𝘤𝘬—bitch off me!❞
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛- you lose your hoodie at a BTS fan meeting.
Parts:
00 ┃ 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁 - 636 wc 01 ┃ 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 - 1.7k wc 02 ┃ 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤-𝐢𝐧 - 1.4k wc 03 ┃ 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 - 1.6k wc 04 ┃ 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 - 959 wc 05 ┃ 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 - 1.3 wc 06 ┃ 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚 - 2.8 wc 07 ┃ 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 - 1.5k wc 08 ┃ 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 - 2.0k wc 09 ┃ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 3.2k wc 10 ┃ 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 - 2.5k wc 11 ┃ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐞 - 1.6k wc 12 ┃ 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 1.8k wc 13 ┃ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 - 2.6k wc 14 ┃ 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐞 - 1.5k wc 15 ┃ 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 - 1.8k wc 16 ┃ 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 - 1.2k wc 17 ┃ 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 1.7k wc 18 ┃ 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 - 3.4k wc 19┃ 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 - 3.3k wc 20 ┃ 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 - 1.3k wc 21┃ 22┃ 23┃ 24┃ 25┃
⌜𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐈𝐝𝐨𝐥!𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐅𝐢𝐜⌟
‧͙⁺˚・༓☾ ɪᴅᴏʟ!ᴀᴜ ☽༓・˚⁺‧͙
➢ 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜-𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐲 ➢ 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐲-𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚 ➢ 𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞
P.S. This is a story set in an AU (Alternate Universe). Any traits or personalities represented here do not adequately represent BTS's actual identity. The characters depicted in this novel are a complete piece of fiction in and of themselves. Also, I don't "𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽" any of the BTS members together in real life; I just find it easier to make up stories about them because I recognize their faces and names.
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃: March 28, 2017 𝐑𝐄-𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃: July 31, 2023 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃: TBD
𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: [~]
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Stay Alive Masterlist
" Came like a Miracle, Look like a miracle, Just like Miracle, Those few words...."
Synopsis: When you started working at a pharmaceutical company, you didn’t realize where it was your life was heading. After getting a patient mix up, you meet seven men who would didn’t seem to want any other nurse that wasn’t you. When you start to know them, you notice things that made you question if they were really human. No matter what excuse they would give though, you would always go home with a heavy heart. The day the truth is revealed to you, things take a turn for the worst.
Pairings: BTS poly!ot7 x Reader
Genre: Mystical Creatures AU, Fluff, Romance, Angst, Fantasy
Warnings: Smut in future chapters, toxic work environment, abuse
Taglist: I have decided to write smut chapters. However it’s just one per member. Maybe some things here and there. With that being said. I will not have a taglist on those chapters for fear of having minors tagged. My books are mostly for a general audience because smut isn’t my main writing. However with the very small number of chapters I will probably do, it’s best to not tag anyone. I understand some of you have ages but I don’t want to struggle with picking out each adult blog. Thank you for understanding.
A/N If there is anyone out there willing to Beta read be my guest. Honestly I know for a fact I got a lot of mishaps here lol.
(1) -- (2) -- (3) -- (4) -- (5)
(6) -- (7) -- (8) -- (9) -- (10)
(11) -- (12) -- (13) -- (14) -- (15)
(16) -- (17) -- (18) -- (19) -- (20)
(21) -- (22) -- (23) -- (24) -- (25)
(26) -- (27) -- (28) -- (29) -- (30)
(31) -- (32) -- (33) -- (34) -- (35)
(36) -- (37) -- (38) -- (39) -- (40)
(41) -- (42) -- (43) -- (44) -- (45)
(46) -- (47) -- (48) -- (49) -- (50)
" Those few words that saved me I'll be by your side after many nights..."
Don't be afraid to ask to be add to the Taglist!
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The Holi-Date (M)
Author: @kpopfanfictrash , as part of the A Very, Merry Fic-Mas! collab with @lamourche , @kittae , @underthejoon , @hobidreams , @floralseokjin and @winetae
Creative Contributor: @baebae-goodnight for this exquisite moodboard (THANKS, TIFFY!)
Pairing: Taehyung / Reader (female)
Genre: Fake Dating / Neighbors
Word Count: 40,556
Rating/Warnings: 18+ for sexual content. Oral (female receiving), dirty talk, spanking, fingering, marking, big dick, consumption of alcohol and a holiday sweater with the word ho on it.
Summary: When your ex-boyfriend becomes engaged to his new girlfriend at your annual Holiday party, you admittedly are not in the best place. Which explains why you down six shots of alcohol, enthusiastically drop it low on the dance floor and – oh, yeah – tell everyone you are also dating someone. The only problem? You are obviously not. Good thing your neighbor happens to be cute and in need of a ride to work every morning.
[[ CROSS-POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE ]]
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Love -Starved
(Verb) /ləv/- /stärv/ - The intense hunger for feelings of deep affection usually occurring after a prolonged period of absence.
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Pairing: OT7 x Reader, Jeon Junkook x Reader
Tags: Hair pulling, Hand kink, oral fixation, Booty worship, Cumplay, Dom/Sub undertones, Group sex, Dirty talk, Spanking, Marking kink, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Mentions of anxiety, Hurt/comfort, Polyamory, polyamory negotiations,
W/c: 7.0k
A/n: Making that header made me realize that I have absolutely no idea how the English language is constructed whatsoever. This is sort of a repost! previously known as “hair-kink au” ENJOY! Please Reblog and Comment if you liked it!
First off- you’re Jungkook’s girlfriend first- everything that happens with this others is kind of…unintended. Wanted, gladly had, amazing, but in the end unintended.
Jungkook’s quick to make you a fixture around the dorm when he gets back from the world tour. The others don’t mind like they might have before, they’re all adults, and one member having a girlfriend doesn’t feel like an affront to the group dynamic. those few times that any of them had any attachment to warrant bringing someone home didn’t go over well. Now they know how lucky it is that Jungkook was able to find anyone at all.
It’s been a while for all of them the last year has been so busy. Jungkook describes it as a literal miracle that you had a chance to long-distance date at all. for almost a full year, you’d timed your morning coffee with his evening hot chocolate, calling it “long distance coffee dates.”
The end of that is welcome. nothing compares to having Jungkook here, nothing is better than this- seeing the love of your life every day, being able to do something as simple as hold his hand has been a treasure for you two.
After the hectic schedule of world-tour after world-tour things have finally calmed down. You’re both living in the same city again, and now Jungkook gets to see you every day when usually he’d been seeing you through the gritty screen of face time.
The others are happy for him, they really are, but they’d be lying if it didn’t make them a little…Jealous.
Like when you hop up to help Seokjin cooking making jokes and puns like Korean is your first language, bumping him with your hip. Or when you join in on Hoseok’s antics, eventually leading to your boyfriend jumping in too. Like when you’d brought them all coffee right before practice and managed to remember all of their orders, even Jimin’s long ass caramel-soy-late-with-whip-and-please-the-shot-not-the swirl.
and fiddled with Taehyung’s jacket and zipped it up when he’d already put his gloves on, and taken care of Namjoon’s plants without even asking, even adding on of yours to his collection on the windowsill in the kitchen, laughing and giving his names because “of course plants have to have names Namu.”
It’s the little things that often lead people to fall headfirst into love. and Jungkooks already fallen, hard. And the boys? they might not have fallen yet, but they can feel the pull of gravity.
It’s been over a year with you, a long blissful year of everything he ever could have wanted. This is the longest relationship Jungkook’s ever been in. He loves how you’ve inhabited every inch of his life. He’s needy for your constant comfort and affection.
And you need him too, often in the same way he needs you. He’s always needed someone to depend on him to really feel steady. You show Jungkook that you need him often enough that he doesn’t have to wonder.
After nearly a full year apart from your boyfriend, it’s a wonder you’re not more touch-starved. How many nights had he confessed to you over the phone how he wished that he could fall asleep in your arms? how many times had you wished you could just hold his hand through the phone?
For the first month, you can’t stop touching each other. Even around the others you’re always holding hands and sitting in his lap. At first, you seemed to be a little hesitant, but Jungkook had insisted that you could act like you do when you’re in private around the others.
But they do…watch you sometimes. You’d tried to bring it up to Jungkook more than once. But he always shrugs it off. “they’re not starting because they don’t like you. They’re just a little jealous.”
Oh… that’s something you didn’t expect. You thought they hated you, not that they were jealous.
They’re not just jealous of you, or your relationship, if they had to put a name to who they were jealous of… it had to be Jungkook himself.
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Every Bloom a Promise (Reader x Ot7)
Summary: Your boyfriends take you to a wildflower field for a picnic date to celebrate the first weekend of warm weather; shenanigans and fluff ensue.
Word count: 1.3k
Tags: Fluff, Polyamory, Snuggling, Brief mature content. Mostly just pure innocent fluff.
Authors note: god this is so fluffy- this is what my stressed out brain comes up with to alleviate it’s stress.
- The boys decide to take you on a day trip into the rural hills for a picnic.
- Where someone has discovered a field of wildflowers. It’s a little off the beaten path- so the 8 of you have it all to yourself.
- It’s the height of spring so you wear this kind of flowy long white dress and a large straw sun hat.
- When you get there everyone is stunned at the sea of colorful wildflowers in front of you.
- Seokjin gets dramatic and flails his arms “There’s one for every time I’ve thought I’ve loved you.” everyone groans but you, you just blush and take his hand.
- Then suddenly everyone’s competing to see who can compare you to more flowers.
- And finally, you tell them to quit it because you should probably set up.
- Hoseok and Yoongi lay out a big swath of blankets and cushions.
- While Jimin and Jungkook are a little enamored with a large patch of raspberries by the edge. (Don’t worry they bring you back some before they eat all of them).
- Namjoon is still parking the car while you help Seokjin unpack some of the food. You leave the other more perishable dishes in the cooler.
- At first, you guys just get settled in. Someone’s brought a Frisbee so a few of you play while Yoongi lounges on the blankets. Already half asleep in the warm sun.
- You and Hoseok go for a short hike, exploring the small forest that borders the field.
- You find a stream, that bubbles with clear cool water. You take off your shoes and wade through the knee-deep water. Holding up your skirt to keep it from getting wet. You splash him and he shrieks, grabbing you with him when he stumbles almost falling.
- His hands are hot on your shoulders when he sits you down on a stone in the middle of the stream and kisses you.
- He almost bends you over to take you right there but the maknaes call for the two of you through the trees and he groans. but willingly gives you up to the others that come splashing through the underbrush.
- Later in the day, you find yourself reading in the cool shade with Namjoon as you sit underneath the edge of a wide oak tree. when you lean your head up against his shoulder, he instinctually starts running his fingers through your hair for a few minutes before he stops and just lets his hand rest woven in your hair, his fingertips pressed to your neck.
- He doesn’t realize that you’ve fallen asleep.
- You wake curled up next to Yoongi who’s fallen asleep on the blankets. his legs wound in between yours- your skirt pulled up to your midthigh. One arm thrown around your waist while Jimin and Taehyung shriek about the butterflies.
- One of them lands on Yoongi’s nose and he wakes up and almost dies of shock when he’s face to face with it, dissolving you all into giggles.
- Imagine Seokjin softly feeding you bits of food as you lounge underneath the sunlight.
- When a little bit of cream gets on your lips he kisses it away softly.
- And you sensually Lick the sugar off his fingers from the sweetened strawberries he made for dessert.
- The 8 of you decide to play a game of running bases (sorry if you don’t know what that is- it’s an American game where there are throwers who try to hit players as they run between two bases).
- And you dash through the underbrush in bare feet, Tae hides behind Hoseok before you make it to the base resulting in a playful argument about cheating.
- Giggling ringing through the field as Jungkook throws a ball to hit Namjoon square in the shoulders. Causing the older to tumble into the ground.
- Imagine sitting face to face with Jimin in the tall underbrush (which hides you from prying eyes) while you sit in Jungkook’s lap, the younger pressing kisses to your exposed shoulders and sucking on your neck while he lets your spaghetti straps slip down your shoulders.
- Spoiler alert you’re not wearing a bra.
- While Jimin kisses you slowly and passionately bringing heat to your face that has nothing to do with the warm spring day.
- Later the warmth and the food has lulled everyone into sleeping and lounging on the blankets (you’re not really sure Namjoon is sleeping but his book is covering his eyes while he has an arm thrown around Jimin so you assume he is).
- You get up from the group and pick a bunch of flowers. You bring them back to the cuddle pile / nest.
- You take a seat next to Taehyung, who quickly pulls you next to him. Resting his head on your lap and putting his arms around his waist before he goes back to sleep.
- And you just quietly sit- enjoying the soft lull of birdsong and your boys passed out next to each other/ on top of each other in the late afternoon heat.
- You twine the flowers you’ve picked into flower crowns for each of the boys.
- You make one out of Daisy’s for Namjoon.
- Light pink primrose for Seokjin.
- A coil of deep green leaves and little pink clover for Yoongi.
- Goldenrod for Hoseok.
- Buttercups for Jimin,
- Red columbine for Jungkook.
- You quietly wake Taehyung, who blinks sleepily as you untangle him before pressing a kiss to his lips and giving him his crown of multicolored cosmos
- Then you go one by one to the boys and give them a kiss and a crown.
- Each of them starts to wake up. Surprised to find something on their head.
- Jimin touches the flowers gently and marvels at them. Pressing kiss after kiss onto your collarbones
- Yoongi pouts- but he leans into you when you sit by him. He takes off his crown and looks at it in his hands. Equally as reverent with it as he is with you. And he smiles a little before asking you why you made it.
- “Because you’re all kings to me.”
- There have only been very few times that you���ve managed to make all of them blush at once but that sentence did it.
- All of them run around and find you flowers. And it’s a few moments before you find your skirt ladened with every color of the rainbow.
- The boy’s kind of see it as a competition- who can find you the coolest flowers or the biggest daisy.
- By the time their finished you have more flowers then you could ever put in your hair thought they defiantly try to make you a crown of their own.
- Namjoon is the only one to actually make you a successful crown that doesn’t immediately fall apart. And your heart hurts when you realize that he incorporated one flower of every kind of theirs into your crown.
- The other flowers end up in bushels to be taken home or woven into your hair by Hoseok.
- You take a few of the spare ones and make a few bracelets for them- Jungkook winds up with the most of them. Wanting one of every type of flowers.
- You make Jimin a necklace of clovers.
- Towards the end of the day you pack up and move back to the hill by your car to watch the sunset.
- You watch the sunset situated between seven boys who love you, getting a kiss every few minutes.
- They might be your kings but you are definitely their queen.
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Yknow sometimes I think about that one clip on the boat where hobi is just complimenting and talking about yoongi and yoongi gets so flustered he just goes to the edge and s c r e a m s and,,,,, imagine with his s/o
okay but for some reason i just had a total poly au jump out at me based off of this, Ah so this is the exact opposite of my usual aesthetic- dont know if you wanted hard nsfw but!!!! sorry!!!! this is also not edited like at all please dont judge me for my kinks this is way out of my usual zone.
Back to You (BTS x Reader)
W/C: 2.4k (oh lord)
Tags: Sub! reader, Sub! Yoongi, Dom! Bts, Poly, Gangbang, Established relationship, praise kink, degradation, Oral fixation, cumplay, dom/sub shit, voyeurism, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, snowballing but with slick?, masturbation,
Song Rec: Everytime ~ Ariana Grande
as Yoongi’s significant other, you indulge in his praise kink fairly often. sometimes it’s in the soft way too where he just gets overwhelmed and flushed and stuttery and screams “stop making me soft!” while it’s muffled in her chest because yoongi just gets so shy he hides from the weight of so much sweetness.
but also, he has a praise kink in much more of an nsfw way.
“oh my god you fill me up so well Yoongi, I feel like im gonna go crazy,”
and him above you “am i fucking you so good you can’t even speak anymore baby?”
his growl of “no one could fuck you as good as i can, say it- admit it darling” i lowkey feel like people forget that dom’s can have praise kinks too, but ANYWAY
after a little while with dating Yoongi- you start to realize that the others totally know about his praise kink, the way than Namjoon will squeeze his shoulders after they’re done producing, saying “you did such a good job hyung” will bring a blush to his cheeks,
hoseok is always the first one to complement yoongi over dinner, and the maknaes are straight up relentless with their manhandling of your boyfriend, slapping his thighs in his jeans at the weirdest times and telling him how pretty they look.
and maybe you’d have a problem with how obviously flustered it makes him if they didn’t do the same thing to you,
Seokjin often curls his hand around your hair, and compliments you on the style,
or the demeaning but lovely curve of a smirk on hoseok’s lips of “wow that shade of lipstick looks great on you, makes you look like such a good slut” and then the tilt of his head, the opaque insensarity and boiling lust in his expression as he shrugs and says “no offense of course, yoongi’s told me how good you are for him,”
and holy hell if it didn’t make both of you absolutely squirm in your seat, yoongi too next to you too, whining in the back of his throat at hoseok’s words.
Jungkook gets particularly bratty with you as well, a little objectifying, even if you try to deny how turned on it makes you when he possessive tugs you into his lap saying “how come hyung gets all the pretty toys? He’s so spoiled.”
There are other things too- other moments that show just how much the boys care for you and yoongi, other non-sexual dominance moments,
like namjoon fiddling with your clothes and complimenting how pretty you look in that skirt, making you blush when he cups your cheeks,
or the way that seokjin takes care of you and yoongi when you both get the flu “i know the medicine tastes bad baby but it would make me so happy if you had it,” and yoongi’s whine as he demands a kiss from seokjin after taking a spoonful of the medcin, hazy with fever. and then your pout, and seokjin’s shy smile as he is only too happy to give you one too.
the way that jungkook and jimin demand cuddles from the two of you every single movie night, each one of them spooning you as you sit curled against yoongi’s chest, their hands playing laced in between you two.
Hoseok’s insistence that the three of you get matching balenciaga shoes, no matter how much you protest, hoseok will just grab both of your hands in his, press a kiss to the back of each and say “come on just let me spoil both of you,”
Things get a little heavier, one night when you’re all drinking, yoongi’s head tipped against your neck to suck at the skin there hidden after most of the others have gone to dance and you were happier just to sit with yoongi,
Taehyung fisting a hand in the back of his hair pulling him away from your skin and making your boyfriend groan at the delicious pain pleasure that runs down his spine.
“don’t be rude Hyung, there are so many people watching and you know how much we hate when people see what’s ours,” and they’re right- there are alot of people watching the two of you curled to the side, both of you wrecked in the booth.
Taehyung closes the curtains to the booth and slowly guides you to give Yoongi a blowjob, Taehyung guiding your head up and down his length with a hand in your hair. his other hand around your throat feeling how you clench and swallow around Yoongi “that’s a good girl, take baby boy’s cock all the way, like i know you can that’s a good babygirl ”
all while Yoongi is sat in namjoon’s lap, his thighs held apart by namjoon’s hands. Who gives him little slaps when Yoongi moves his hips, whispering straight filth into his ears “so needy, look how strung out you are, it’s so cute! are you thinking that someone could walk in and see how fucked out you look? does it make you turned on hyung?”
And Yoongi gets so worked up that he’s almost sniffling before he comes all over your face, his thighs certainly would be shaking if it weren’t for how roughly namjoon’s holding him, in the way that will surely leave bruises,
and that’s when the others get back, careful not to let anyone else look into the booth (because of course everyone knew what was going to happen- they might have planned it) and the low whistle that comes out of Jimin when he sees your cum covered face, your eyes hazy and not all there as Taehyung pets your hair and tells you how good you did, “just when I thought you couldn’t get more gorgeous baby”
and of course, they you up on the table, clearing it of the many expensive bottles, parts your legs and holds up your skirt so that you can give the rest of them a show. Seokjin rubs gently against your clit through your underwear sliding it down before he takes it to his nose and breathes in deep. his eyelashes fluttering, just the sight of that makes you so strung out that you’re certain you’ll do anything they say.
Hoseok holds on to one of your ankles, while jimin holds the other spread, someone took off their tie to bind yoongi’s hands behind his back and he’s completely at the mercy of seokjin, who guides yoongi’s head to your slit keeping a hand fisted in his hair, commanding “Eat her good like we taught you Yoongi- show us how good you can be to her”
occasionally pulling him back, lifting his head back to kiss him and taste your slick on his lips, licking into his mouth messily to get all of it. jungkooks incredulous and dark look when he breaks apart makes both you and yoongi whine, lifting his own fingers to touch his lips in awe “you know i used to wonder why yoongi chose you over us and now i think i understand, you’re addicting” and of course jimin just needs to have a taste of his own, reaching forward and pumping his fingers in you roughly before he brings them to his mouth, ““Fuck, and here i though you just looked sweet baby girl.”
“Come on hyung dont be selfish- let me have a taste” but instead of kissing seokjin with his plush lips wet with your essance, jungkook tugs on Yoongi’s hair. Putting his mouth back to your cunt and letting him lick at you for a moment lazily and fucked out before he pulls him away again, making your hips jerk in search of yoongi’s mouth.
Yoongi whimpers into jungkook’s mouth as he gets the same treatment, licking it out of his mouth as opposed to actually kissing him making him heady, and spiralling down deep into subspace at an almost alarming pace.
So basically, Yoongi eats you out while the others jerk off and dirty talk the shit out of both of you. Hoseok cums all over your stomach, Taehyung cums on your face and Namjoon pulls down your top to cum all over your chest.
Somehow Jimin ends up with your underwear, curling it around his fist and using it to jack off, ruining the delicate pink lace when he cums on them with a groan. Watching him and feeling the cum dry on your chest, You feel so dirty but so unbelievably satisfied. Hoseok whispers in your ear, “you just love being our dirty slut don’t you?” Jimin sets the underwhere on the table, “We should make her wear them out of here hyungs,”
Eventually you cum with Hoseok’s fingers thrusting into you and yoongi’s mouth sucking on your clit, only to shake and squirt onto the table, trembling like a leaf. And of course, they make Yoongi lick it up and clean you up again, indulging in his oral fixation which makes him cum again, grinding against the table. (honestly rip whoever has to clean it afterwards)
You’re both so hazy by the end of this but the others take care of you, cleaning you up and ushering both of you out of the back door so that no one sees how wrecked both of you are.
and when you wake up the next morning you’re wrapped tightly in taehyung’s bed getting the life cuddled out of you, Seokjin has food already ready to go and you’re half convinced that last night was just a dirty dream until you check and yup- you have hickeys on the inside of your thighs and one on your chest that you think is from namjoon but you can’t be sure.
eventually you get around to asking yoongi the obvious question, “so uhm, have you ever like- been with any of them before? because i dont want to say it makes me uncomfortable, but sometimes they’re a little intense with both of us” and Yoongi stutters and admits that they’ve all kind of fooled around with each other at one point or another- even though you can tell it was more than that.
Yoongi admits that yes, he used to be their submissive, but he cut it off when he met you because he knew he loved you and wanted to be with you, no matter how much it hurt the others. because they’re all a little in love with him- even if they’d never said it yoongi knows, and yoongi also knows that they’re starting to feel the same way about you.
And it doesn’t surprise you because your boyfriend is a switch (but prefers to dom you and only you) so it’s not surprising to you that he’d had that outlet before you got together and if you’re being honest- it doesn’t make you uncomfortable in the slightest
in fact…it’s a little hot, thinking of your boyfriend stuttering as they praise and degrade him in equal measure, and you’d be wrong if you said you didn’t want a piece of that to see it again. You tell Yoongi this, and he’s surprised but not displeased because if he was being honest part of his brain needed some of that rush of subspace that only the others could give him, even if he needed the rush of domspace just the same.
and before he has a chance to ask the boys about the possibility of a scene with you in it (the thought almost makes him weak) it reaches a fevers pitch when you go out together one night.
You’re dressed in a skin tight velvet dress and a velvet collar and yoongi is in a silky button down shirt, and all of them decide that nope, neither of you get to go out looking like that, you’re only for their eyes to be seen by anyone other than them,
They toy with you drawing out every minute, making both of you stand naked in the middle of the room for their viewing pleasure, “the first one of you that moves or makes a noise is going to get punished, and the other gets to watch and be spoiled” namjoon of course, is the one that designs the scene, though he sits back, stroking his length almost lazily though you can see the lust in his eyes.
they alternate teasing both of you, hoseok tugs on your collar and you refuse to sigh or splutter as he leaves hickey after hickey along your chest. “Do you think she’d like a leash to do with this collar? be our perfect little pet? we should bring out yoongi’s and then they’d be matching”
Seokjin toys with yoongi’s ass as jimin sucks him off, your boyfriend sweating and looking more out of it by the minute but still unmoving. though you think you see a hint of competitiveness in his expression, like he’s daring you to move first,
Jungkook coos when he kneels down in front of you “oh my god look how wet she’s getting! oh how cute! she’s pretending she wasn’t as turned on by this as yoongi hyung, what an adorable little whore” he tilts his head forward and before you can control it- you flinch as he swipes his tongue across your clit fast and hard.
let’s just say they spend the whole night making you messy and sore, and so overstimulated you cry- because it just feels that good, they make yoongi eat you out (damn his oral fixation) while you’re getting pounded into by taehyung.
And I don’t want to get two graphic beyond that, but basically, you and yoongi sub for bangtan the whole night, and you all fuck on the floor of their living room, making both of you cry (it’s okay though you have safe words and it’s more of like an overwhelmed-with-pleasure sort of cry)
at the end both you and yoongi are curled up and cleaned, cream rubbed into the bruises on both your asses, swathed in plush blankets while jimin combs his fingers through yoongi’s hair and seokjin does the same to you, namjoon rubbing soothing circles onto your very sore hips.
curled together in a little puddle between all of them while they just cuddle you and praise you,
“You both did so well for us” - Jimin
“Our pretty obedient babies,” - Hoseok definitely
“Could never find such good darlings like you, you’re both one of a kind” - Seokjin
“You’re perfect for us” - jungkook probably.
“oh little ones, you took your punishments so good, im so impressed” - namjoon
“I’m so proud of you, you make me feel so loved” - taehyung
and the next day they invite you and yoongi into one giant poly/sub/dom relationship with rules like ‘eat at least 2 meals a day, sleep 7 hours minimum, no demeaning language at yourself outside of scenes, and alway pre-negotiation because they don’t often practice unsafe bdsm etiquette accept for last night because they kind of got carried away.
after all yoongi did tell them what you two got up too, so they knew that you weren’t exactly opposed to that kind of dirty talk and what kind of kinks you did and if you had showed any reservations they would have stopped immediately during that scene
but going forward to feel more comfortable they want to have like- long lengthy discussions about kinks and limits and what kind of aftercare you like, cuz they already know that for yoongi he just likes to be held and touched gently
okay thats it thats the ask thanks for coming to THE MOST HARD NSFW thing i’ve ever written gonna go wash my brain out with soap after all those visuals bye
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*through gritted teeth* you are not a child taking a test with the purpose of getting the highest score, you are an adult trying new things and finding ways to enjoy your life, make mistakes, be a beginner, be mediocre, be where you need to be, be unlikeable, just. be.
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Source: https://twitter.com/DAvallone/status/1126280699122671616?s=19
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When you get down to it, Doctor Who is built on a premise of "What would you do if all your material needs were met (water, food, shelter, clothes, paid leave) and you had a ticket to anywhere in the universe?" The TARDIS takes care of all of that so you're free to confront your humanity and your moral code
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yellow lights
— summary: who would have thought your coworkers would mean more to you than you initially thought a year later?
— pairing: bts x reader
— genre: fluff, poly!au, office!au, established relationship
— word count: 7.0k
— warnings: none
— commission for @vickyyy97
“Someone looks happy today. Who’s got you smiling like that, darling?” You look over at Seokjin who greets you the second you walk into the office today, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Was it a man?” He asks and you feel heat slowly rising upon your cheeks.
He takes note of that.
“Well actually, u-um,” you scratch the back of your head, trying to play it cool but knowing nothing can ever get past the Kim Seokjin.
“No way! You’re serious?” Someone else comes up from the other side of the room and you turn to find Jimin and Taehyung walking over, the older of the 95 liner holding a hand over his gaped mouth as if this was the most shocking news he’s ever heard in his life.
“I never knew you had a man in your life already, Y/N,” Taehyung says with an arm coming over to pull you into a headlock as he ruffles your hair.
“Tae!” You whine, pouting slightly at his antics. “I don’t have a man but there was this cute barista I saw just a few blocks away.”
“Damn! She’s now taken!” He smacks his hands over his heart in a dramatic gesture you have to push him off you a bit so the coffee in your hand doesn’t spill over.
“I’m not,” you reiterate.
“But there’s a chance, yeah?” Seokjin says as he takes your coffee cup without permission to show off the number written there. “He gave you his number.”
“That’s…” You avert your eyes, biting your lower lip.
“Ooh, look at that,” Jimin takes the cup in his hand, examining it with a playful snicker, “he drew a little heart.”
“Stop it guys, you’re embarrassing.” You try to take your coffee back, only they don’t give you a chance.
“Hey if it doesn’t work out, you can always come back into my arms to cry, yeah? I’ll always be right here to cheer you up.” Despite how playful he sounds right now, you know there’s always a high chance Taehyung means it more than anything. It doesn’t take over the fact that his constant flirting doesn’t always get you worked up, however.
“I-I don’t think I’ll be needing it but uh, thanks for the offer.”
“Well, whatever happens,” you see Seokjin take the coffee back from Jimin who’s still laughing over the little note the barista gave you, in order to hand it back to you, “as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”
You feel a light pat on your head, a gentle gesture he tends to do when he wishes to cheer you up.
Ah. How sweet.
You feel your heart skip a beat.
“...Thanks Jin.”
.
.
.
“I never took you as a coffee person.” Yoongi, on the more quiet side, as compared to the rest of the boys, gives you a small raise in his brow when he takes note of the coffee you have on your desk for the third day in a row. “I thought you preferred tea or...other things.”
You did once speak on drink preferences though you never thought Yoongi would ever take note of them seriously because they were always just small talks that led to no direction. Yet here he is, raising a brow at the coffee you have.
“Is it the barista?” He asks and you know by now the boys probably all know your encounter with the cute barista a few blocks down the street. When you feel your cheeks heating up, you hear Yoongi let out a small chuckle. “I get it, Y/N. Feelings always start off with the infatuation you have for someone, but you have to keep in mind not to force anything you dislike for someone else. What’re you going to do when you’re unhappy just to keep someone else happy? That isn’t exactly healthy, now is it?”
“You sound like my mom always giving me life lessons,” Hoseok comes in with rolled eyes over his hyung’s words. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N.”
“You know I’m right.”
“Even if you are, it’s not like they can’t talk things over once they get closer. Isn’t that right?” Hoseok turns to you, putting you on the spot and making you freeze up.
“W-well, yes. I suppose so.”
“Well.” Yoongi lets out a sigh. “If you aren’t going to drink the coffee, just order a black coffee and I’ll drink it for you the next time you return.”
And so it becomes a routine where you’re rushing in the morning, ordering the black coffee just to have a small conversation with the cute barista before it’s time for work and once you’re in, Yoongi takes the coffee for you, drinking it.
For a good time it goes on like this; the constant teasing from the boys, Namjoon scolding them, and Yoongi sitting back to enjoy the show with his free coffee every morning.
Though at times you feel Taehyung’s flirty comments are much more common than usual, Seokjin’s a little gentler, Jimin’s a little touchier, Jungkook’s a bit more pouty and cranky, Hoseok’s by your side more often, Yoongi more willing to engage in conversations rather than his usual responses of “mhm” and “yes” or “no,” and Namjoon being more observant.
Perhaps it’s the change in the seasons, perhaps it’s the new project the team’s working on, or perhaps they’re just looking out for you because you’re still a bit new to everything and they don’t want you getting hurt or taken advantage of.
They’re kind after all. Ever since the first day you joined the company since your move here, the boys have been nothing but kind and welcoming towards you, helping you out in areas you need to improve on, exchanging numbers, offering to hang out outside work hours, and just anything and everything for you in order to help you feel more comfortable.
It’s sweet having people looking out for you.
“Date?” One late night with just you and Jungkook left behind, you decide to relay the news to him as the two of you finally finish off for the night. “Well finally, seems like that bastard wasn’t ever going to pick up the guts to ask you out.” He sounds a bit irritated, as he usually would when the topic of the barista is brought up. “So then, where you going?”
“He said he’ll be taking me out to dinner.”
“Dinner, huh? So you’ll be dressing up all nice and pretty for him, huh?”
“Well-” You cut yourself off, looking off to the side with a hand hovered over your cheeks. “It’s..the normal thing to do, right? When..one goes on a date?”
“I guess,” he shrugs, sounding bored with his hands in his pockets.
“I haven’t done this in a while, I’m kind of nervous. Though to be honest, I don’t really enjoy one-on-one meal dates too much, especially with someone I don’t really know that well. I mean even though I find him cute and nice it’s just…hm, I don’t know. It’s just nerve-wracking I guess.”
“Really? Dinner dates aren’t your thing?” Jungkook looks over at you, a bit surprised.
“I just get too much social anxiety,” you chuckle nervously his way. “I mean, there’s always a chance my date might ditch me and I’ll end up sitting there being awkwardly stared at by other customers and the waiter will also be placed in an awkward position. Not to mention the food choices are way too many to choose from and you can never really guess what will be good and what will not. Plus I’m just an awkward person in general when it comes to one-on-one interaction over a formal occasion. What if he finds me boring?”
“He’d be a fool if he did,” he mutters under his breath.
“Huh?”
Jungkook clears his throat, speaking louder this time. “I said that’s stupid to be worrying over.”
“Oh.” You blink. “Is it?”
“I’m not saying it’s–” He pauses, takes a breath in and out before speaking again. “What I meant was, you shouldn’t worry about that because you’re not boring. Well, not to me.”
“Ha ha, that totally helped release all of my anxieties at once.”
“I’m just saying,” he purses his lips into a small pout, “I mean I get awkward with people all the time because I’m an idiot who doesn’t know how to keep a conversation going but I’ve never been uncomfortable with you. You’ve never made me feel bored and I’ve never had a thought of wanting to get out of a conversation with you so it’d be dumb if that bastard did. I’m the most awkward person on Earth. I’m sure you’ll do fine with him.”
You giggle at the way Jungkook seems to shy away after giving you a few compliments, his ears a little red, head turned off to the side but you catch sight of the slight blush on his cheeks under the night sky.
“Thanks, Jungkook.”
“Come on,” he rushes forward, opening the passenger side of the door for you in order to snap out of his embarrassment. “Get in, I’ll take you home.”
.
.
.
“Uh, what? You want me to spy on Y/N?” Namjoon looks the maknaes dead in the eyes before turning his back to them, returning to the coffee maker in the break room. “No. I’m on a break, stop bothering me.”
“Oh come on hyung!” Taehyung whines as he tugs on the hem of Namjoon’s blazer.
“If you’re that desperate to see how her date goes, why don’t you go yourself?” He pauses. “Actually, that’s a bad idea.”
“Yeah exactly! Taehyung and I both know we’d do a horrible job and get noticed right away, which will put Y/N in an awkward situation, and Jungkook here has anger issues so if that barista does something wrong, he’s also bound to get noticed.”
“Listen, I know I have my problems but hearing it out loud still hurts, you know.”
“The truth hurts, maknae.” Jimin pats his head, causing him to frown even deeper. “And Yoongi hyung,” he turns back to Namjoon again, “he’s also bound to punch the dude if something goes wrong. Jin and Hoseok hyung are great candidates but they’re working that day. You’re the only one available, hyung.”
“I’m also working that day.”
“You get out early.”
“How is it that you know my schedule so well, Park Jimin?” Coffee done and set in a cup, Namjoon turns back to the three of them, letting out a heavy sigh. “Can’t you just let it go? Y/N can’t keep staying under our wings forever. She’s a grown woman capable of taking care of herself.”
“Yes, yes, but what if something goes wrong?” Jungkook says, the three of them still holding their stance.
“Seems like you want it to go wrong.” Namjoon takes a sip of his drink, staring them down.
“Whaaat? Now why would I want that? Y/N’s happiness matters most of all and if that happiness is with the barista, why would I wanna intervene?”
“You’re gritting your teeth.”
He avoids eye contact, not even wanting to deny Namjoon’s accusation as he places his hands in his pockets.
In the end, the maknaes’ persuasion skills are much more in effect as they manage to rope Namjoon into their shenanigans, so when the day comes, the man finds himself being there to be the witness to how your date with the barista goes.
And unfortunately on your end, it doesn’t go too well.
“You…have a girlfriend?” You look at the phone he has in his hand when he turns around, surprised you caught him in the act when he excused himself to pick up a call, only to leave you in that restaurant for some time so you decided to step out to check up on him and now here you are, staring at a man who holds onto a dumb expression because he got caught.
“Who’s that?” You hear a voice from the other line of his phone and Woosung turns around for a second again, putting the phone back to his ear as he whispers “I’ll call you back” before turning back shamelessly around with an awkward smile.
You bite your lower lip, feeling like a fool as your shoulders keep their tense state and you take a step back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Things were rocky,” he says, “we still are–”
“That doesn’t make it right to go around and sweeten up to other girls,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear the excuses. “If you wanted another relationship, you should have broken up with your girlfriend first but instead here you are, making a fool out of me, using me as a side piece. If things went back to normal with your girlfriend, you were just going to toss me off to the side, weren’t you? Or use me as a secret affair?”
“Y/N-”
“Don’t say my name, please.” You take a few more steps back, feeling lightheaded and done. “Don’t contact me again. Delete my number, please.”
You turn to walk off, only to have your wrist pulled back.
“Hear me out-”
“I don’t want to hear anything!” You try to pull your arm back to get away from him but his grip is too tight for you to actually do much. “Let me go. You have a girlfriend.”
“I’ll break up with her,” Woosung tries to concede but you can only scoff in his face.
“Are you serious? If you can go around her back and try to get with other girls, you can do that to me too.”
“Y/N-”
“Let go,” you beg, feeling your voice crack as the tears finally begin to form upon the forceful way he holds onto you, not wanting to release his grip no matter how much you try to escape. “Please, I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, I-”
Just as you feel a drop of tear about to fall from your eye, a foreign hand is placed right upon your eyes to block your vision, the sling of arm he has on you pulling you back against his chest and a voice rumbles from the depths of his throat.
“Do not ever waste your tears on spoiled milk, sweetheart, do not let him think he has power over you,” the voice says, a voice you recognize, a voice that begins to fight off the fear you had thinking you were alone and no one would help you out of this situation. Suddenly the hand isn’t so foreign anymore and you find yourself relaxing a bit into that chest of his.
“Mind letting go of that precious hand, buddy?” Namjoon says, his voice dropping an octave when he addresses your admirer. “We don’t want to make a scene here now do we? Unless you do, and in that case, I can definitely give you a show.”
When he doesn’t say a word in response, too frightened at how grave Namjoon sounds, your rescuer lets out a scoff before giving you a squeeze on the shoulder to let you know that you were to be leaving.
He turns you around, taking his hand off your eyes, but not from your shoulder, and guiding you away from the scene, knowing not to leave you alone until the two of you were finally away from the sight of Woosung.
“You alright?” Only then does Namjoon let you go and take a step back, watching to make sure you don’t look too uncomfortable.
Yet his hands being placed on you wasn’t the problem, it was the fact that you just found out the guy you thought was interested in you had a girlfriend all along, and in the shameful feeling you’re suddenly forced to face tonight, your head lowers to the ground, unable to look Namjoon in the eyes.
“Sorry you had to…see that.”
“Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to apologize for.” He hands you a tissue to which you take, wiping your tears despite it still coming down, and when it seems as if they won’t stop any time soon, Namjoon takes the initiative to take a step forward and pull you into his arms, embracing you in the way you need it.
You bury your face into his chest as he holds you, the night breeze flying past with nothing but the sound of a few cars passing by and your little sniffles, and in this very moment, all you can think is that Namjoon’s arms feel so warm, so comfortable, and so kind.
Just what you need.
Just what you needed.
“Sorry,” you croak out again, voice sounding a little more broken but Namjoon shakes his head as he holds you tighter.
“It’s alright.”
“I probably look like a fool,” you say and yet he shakes his head.
“None of this was your fault.”
“I should have known,” you pull back just slightly to wipe at your eyes, “all men, whether in Korea or elsewhere, has the audacity to be such assholes.”
“Hmm, you’re right. In one way or another, everyone’s the same.”
You look up at him, sight a little blurry. “Why’re you not defending men or saying ‘not all men’?”
“Because that’d piss you off,” you scoff, “and I know how we can be.”
“But you…” You bite onto your lower lip, staring down at his white dress shirt as tear stains and some bits of your makeup managed to fall upon them — a sight he doesn’t care to pay attention to. You now feel embarrassed for a different reason. “I probably look like a mess right now, I’m so sorry,” you cry, hating the sight of your mascara wet on your fingers.
“You’re cute,” Namjoon chuckles and you give him a little punch on the chest, wanting to hide your embarrassment and only causing him to laugh a little more.
“How’d you know to even find me? How’d you even get there in the first place? It was like you were already there.”
“Well…” When he hesitates, you look back up at him, blinking.
“Don’t tell me Jungkook set you up to this?”
“Not just him.”
The maknaes. “Of course it’s them.” You let out a sigh. “I’m kind of surprised with how protective they seem to be, they didn’t come here themselves and sent you instead.”
“They sent me because they knew if something went wrong, they wouldn’t be able to stop themselves before that barista has a couple of bruises on his face.”
You laugh a little at that sentiment. “Well aren’t they aware.”
“If I tell them you cried, I wonder what they’d do.”
“Don’t!” You quickly say, grabbing a fistful of his shirt to make sure he knows just how serious you are. “I already told them where Woosung works at so if they know what he did, who knows what they���d do.”
“Are you that worried?”
“They have absolutely no care for what other people think of them so of course I’m worried.” You quickly wipe the remaining tears left on your face. “I don’t want to be the reason someone gets hurt.”
“I suppose I can leave out a few details.”
“Thanks, Namjoon.” You look around the empty streets of the night, feeling a bit awkward now that things are starting to calm down. “And..thanks…for being there…..and here, right now.”
Namjoon lets out a light chuckle. “Mr. Bang told us to look out for our newbie, didn’t he?” He says, a light reminder of your company CEO’s words to them when you first joined. “Though even without him saying so, we’d still be taking care of you.”
You smile up his way, knowing that if he hadn’t been here tonight, a different outcome would have occurred and you aren’t sure how you would have been able to deal with things were it not for him.
.
.
.
“Sorry you won’t be getting your usual free coffee anymore.” When you take a seat beside Yoongi the next day, something tells you he probably knows the actual full story about what happened the night before unlike the three younger ones. Namjoon probably felt it safe to tell the older ones and that you wouldn’t blame him for it.
He’s right.
Before the man can reply, Jimin’s sliding his chair on over with a comment of his own. “Who cares? Hyung can get his own coffee and there’s always plenty of fishes in the sea.”
“He’s right, I’m a fish,” Taehyung says with a smirk sent your way. “I’m a great fish.”
You laugh a little at that. “It’s alright guys. He was cute but I forgot that pretty faces don't always mean pretty hearts.”
“I’m literally right in front of you but go off.” Taehyung sits himself on Jimin’s lap with a roll of his eyes, causing you to giggle.
“I knew he was a red flag,” Jungkook joins in with his arms leaning over your desk. “Everything about the dude screamed red flag.”
“You never even met him.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t tell,” he argues. “If you ask me, even Taehyung’s a better candidate.”
“See, what’d I tell you?” The older one is quick to agree as his eyes light up. “Why don’t you give me a chance, sweetheart? I’d never break your heart.”
“That’s a lie,” you laugh.
He pouts. “Why would you say that? You don’t trust me?”
“I’m just saying it’s inevitable to break someone’s heart whether you mean to or not. That’s just what happens when you’re in a relationship right? Not everything is smooth sailing.”
“Well, you can break my heart anytime.”
“Alright, alright, stop bothering me and get back to your stations already.” When Yoongi finally speaks up among the conversation you seemed to attract without meaning to, the three boys are quick to obey their hyung’s words, sitting up and scattering to their destination after a quick wave of goodbye your way.
You yourself were just about to return to your own station when Yoongi stops you mid-way.
“By the way,” he starts, allowing you to look back at him, “Stop apologizing, you’ll wear yourself out.”
It’s blunt the way he says it but you know that Yoongi always means well so it makes your insides warm hearing him giving you kind words in return to what you initially came to him for.
.
.
.
“So, what do you think about this?”
Hoseok takes a glance at your computer screen before looking back at you, whose eyes seem to look slightly dreary despite the excitement settled in them.
“I think you need to take a break,” he says and you’re quick to frown.
“Come on, Hoseok, just look it over for a second, yeah? I promise I’ll stop bothering after.”
“You said that last time.”
“I really promise this time!”
“No, you’re lying,” he says with a poke at your forehead, forcing your head to get pushed back away from him. “You’ve been working too hard these days you might actually collapse soon and what kind of sunbae would I be if I didn’t look out for my hoobae’s health?”
“But I’m fine-”
He knows all too well the sudden shift in focus you’ve had on work ever since the failed date with the barista down the street, a sort of focus that forces you to work much too hard and way too much than needed.
“Come on, it’s almost midnight.”
“And?”
You’ve even forgotten what tomorrow implies.
He takes ahold of your chair, rolling it away from your computer so he can make sure everything’s saved before shutting it off, causing you to groan in response, yet when he goes on to get your jacket, you’re reluctantly obedient.
“Have you forgotten what today is?” He asks and you look at your phone.
“The twenty-second of January. Why?”
“What’s tomorrow?”
“The twenty-third.”
He rolls his eyes. “Of course you’ve forgotten.”
“Forgotten what?” Wide eyes, innocent and curious, totally oblivious as you allow him to help you put your arms through the sleeves of your jacket.
Hoseok looks out the window and you follow his eyes, wondering why the night sky has caught his attention, but when there’s nothing there and he says nothing in reply to your question, you go on to gather your things just as he checks his watch.
“Are you free right now?” He asks, not looking up from his watch.
“I have a few minutes to spare.”
“Just a few?”
You chuckle. “I’m free, Hoseok.”
“Great.” He takes a step from where you are gathering your things, sliding up from behind and leans right into your ear. “Happy birthday, Y/N.”
It’s so soft and quiet against your ear but you know you haven’t misheard a thing just as the phone on the desk lights up and you see that it’s 12:00 am, the twenty-third of January; your 26th birthday.
“Come on then,” he takes your bag before you can protest, walking off to have you chasing him right behind, “we’ve got plans.”
“Plans?” You blink, hurrying to keep up. “Wait, what do you mean ‘we’?”
Yet you receive no answer as he takes you in his car and drives off with a grin on his face, leaving you wondering with anticipation for what’s to happen.
It doesn’t take long before the two of you arrive at some sort of park you don’t think you’ve ever visited before.
“Why are we here?” You ask and yet all you receive is Hoseok’s hand asking you to just trust him and follow along. You take his hand and he leads you toward the inner part of the park until you’re standing right before a fountain. “How pretty,” you say, wondering why you never took the chance to ever come to such a place before. “Hoseok, you–”
When you turn around to address the man who brought you here in the first place, there’s no one in sight.
“Hoseok?” You call for him, confused as you begin to look around.
Just then, lights begin to appear.
Pretty little fairy lights decorated along the lampposts and hedges of the part. Bright white and golden all around, leaving you to only stare in awe at the sudden burst of lights gleaming all around while you stand in the center of it all, heart picking up its pace at just how pretty everything looks.
All for you.
No one’s ever done something as grand as this for you, not even your closest friend,s and yet here you are, cherished by people whom you’ve known for only a year or so.
“Do you like it?”
You turn at the familiar voice to see Hoseok with a grin, and just behind him stands the rest of the guys who share the same sentiment.
“Like it?” Words can’t even begin to describe. “I..”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Are you crying?!” Seokjin’s the first to rush up to you when he sees your hands raising up to your face, taking them in his and blowing his warm breath onto them to warm it up as Yoongi presses both his gloved hands upon your cheeks. “Don’t cry now, this was supposed to make you happy.”
“I am happy,” you say as a few tears slip. “I’m really happy.”
“Are you sure because crying usually means—”
“I promise,” you cut Yoongi off when you see the serious frown he has on his face, a sign of worry as he frets over your tears. “I promise I’m happy.”
“You have such an odd way of proving you’re happy,” he grumbles under his breath, causing you to let out a laugh.
“We have cake but I don’t think you’d be able to blow out the candles in this windy environment.”
January is still Winter after all.
“That’s alright,” you say to Jimin, “we can just pretend the fire’s on.”
And so he goes on to get the cake with Taehyung in toll, and in the middle of the pretty park they’ve taken the time to show you, a soft birthday song rings in the air, and when that’s over, you intertwine your fingers together for a wish before blowing out the imaginary fire on the candles.
January is a bit cold, a little worse when the moon has risen high in the sky, but tonight you feel anything but the coldness, not when these seven boys have taken the time to dedicate themselves to making sure you’re having a good time.
.
.
.
“You know if you keep staring at me, you might burn a hole in my face.”
“Hm? What are you talking about?” Hoseok starts, his chin still propped upon his hand, eyes shamelessly staring without a hint of movement anytime soon. You let out a little chuckle, flustered, and hit him lightly on the chest. “What? Do I make you flustered?”
“You’re almost as bad as Taehyung sometimes.”
“What’s wrong with a little flirting?”
“I’m going to take it the wrong way one day,” you tell him as you get up from your seat to head on over to the printer where a few papers await their turn. “I know you’re all joking though but sometimes, well, admittedly,” you hide your face behind your hair, staring straight at the printing machine to finish its job, “my heart does skip a beat...or two.”
“Really?” He says it so nonchalantly you think your reaction is the least bit of his concern. “Hm, then it’s working,” until he says those words.
“Huh?” You look up, flustered, with blinking eyes. “What do you mean it’s…working?”
Hoseok sends you a smirk just as Taehyung slides up along his side, arm draping over the older man’s shoulder with a mirrored smirk.
“Oh I think you know what that means, darling,” the younger one states, his brows wiggling playfully.
You take the collection of papers that have been printed out for you and huddle them close to your chest, not fully comprehending them only because you wouldn’t want to create a misunderstanding and interpret things wrong when it’s actually meant to have a different meaning.
“I..I-I..”
Before you can finish your stuttering, however, a roll of paper comes along to smack both Hoseok and Taehyung on the head.
“Stop flirting during work hours, you know better than that,” Namjoon warns with a firm expression.
“But you know our girl will never get it if we don’t get to the point,” Hoseok argues.
“The point?” You blink.
“Then get to the point.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, looking exasperated by the antics of the group as he joins the crowd with Jungkook, just as Jimin and Seokjin walk through the doors.
It’s clear the seven of them all know exactly what’s going on while you remain standing there in confusion, left to try to interpret things under your own limited understanding unless they decide they want to come out and just say whatever it is they’re holding out on.
“See, look at her. She’s confused.” Yoongi points out, his head beckoning your way to make them look at you.
You freeze under their stares, not…uncomfortable but more so…shy.
“She’s not confused, she knows exactly what’s happening,” Seokjin speaks up, a slight grin resting on his lips as he walks a few steps forward to take your papers for you. They were meant for him in the first place. “She’s just afraid it might turn out to be false,” he says, purposely staring you down with that glint of playfulness in his eyes.
“Now we don’t want any miscommunications around here, do we?” Jimin sneaks up behind you, hands pressed upon your shoulders. “So why don’t you tell our little one exactly what you mean, hyung?” He’s baiting Hoseok, that slyness in his tone not being able to escape your ears especially when he’s so close to you.
As for the older one, he simply remains calm, instead glancing at the maknae. “Didn’t you want to do the honors? You’ve been waiting for the perfect moment, right?”
Jungkook’s cheeks turn red, his face turning to the side in an instant once the attention is brought down to him instead, and while Jimin snickers, Taehyung holds his laugh, Seokjin hides a grin behind his hand, and Namjoon’s expression turns fond, you find the gentleman who became the first friend you made ever since moving to Korea and working alongside him as a new employee to be quite cute.
He’s always been cute from the very beginning.
You’re the closest in age after all, so with him feeling more comfortable to approach you and make you feel comfortable, you found his company to be a delight you enjoyed looking forward to each day you came to work.
And now here he is, almost a year later, flustered like a teenage boy trying to hand his crush a love letter.
And the boys are eating it up.
“Jungkook?” So you call out to him, knowing he may need a little bit of encouragement to tell you the thing he needs to say, all the while preparing your heart just in case the answer you’re seeking turns out to be wrong and you were just misinterpreting things. “It’s alright, take your time.”
“That’s right, maknae, we’ve got all the time in the world.”
You lightly hit Taehyung on the chest. “You’re not helping the boy.”
He laughs in response. “You already know what he’s trying to say so why not save him the embarrassment?”
“Do I?”
“Oh, would you look at that?” Namjoon raises a brow, impressed. “Someone’s feeling cocky.”
“Huh, no I didn’t mean that!” You’re quick to say, hands rushing to wave it off as you become flustered again. “J-Jungkook I didn’t-” You turn to him, stumbling out your words. “Well, I mean, I think I..I-I don’t exactly..-But if it’s what I think it is..-But if it isn’t, uh-”
“Oh god, they’re hopeless,” Jimin laughs aloud before simply squeezing your shoulders as he leans in. “Why don’t we stop the act and just become ours, hm? I think you know we all feel the same way at this point.”
“Hyung what the hell?!” Jungkook suddenly shouts with his mouth held agape, offended his moment was stolen from him.
“You were taking too long!”
“That doesn’t mean you can take the spotlight!”
In the midst of their little dispute, all you can hear is Jimin’s short yet meaningful confession in your ears, one that seems to make your heart race more than any man has ever made it beat before and you stand there right in the center, eyes unblinking, feeling as if the world is slowing down as you hear each beat your heart drums aloud for you.
“So what do you say?!” Taehyung jumps in, leaving Hoseok’s side to drape his arm around you instead.
“You’re both so annoying!” Jungkook yells, his brows furrowed deeply as his lips jut into a pout.
With cheeks heated and heart set aflame, you take the pouty man’s hand and look him straight in the eyes, taking a moment to calm him down so that the whole room can fall silent, before you turn to look at them all, hands trembling a bit when you say;
“Mmn, I’ll…I can…..yeah.”
Their faces brighten in an instant, and in that moment you realize despite how brave and nonchalant they all may seem to appear on the outside, perhaps deep within their hearts, they were just as nervous and frightened of what your answer may be.
And for that you say the words that Jungkook had been meaning to say but was robbed of the opportunity.
“I like you. I like you so…so much.”
.
.
.
Two years later
“Mr. Bang approved the proposal and he told me he’d be able to connect me with some people and-” you let out a scream of delight as you jump around before Seokjin, taking his hands along with you for him to see just how excited you are right now. “I’m ranking up Jin! I’m ranking up! And soon the company’s going to skyrocket and my efforts will be rewarded! It is rewarded! It’s being rewarded!”
Despite the onlookers of passersby taking quick glances at the two of you as you jump for joy, Seokjin simply smiles fondly at the pretty girl before him, looking her happiest and knowing he’d never want to rain on her parade and cast that look aside.
“Look at that, my little rockstar all grown up,” he says with a smile so gentle and fond of you you think you might fall in love with him all over again.
“Are you proud?” You ask and he chuckles as if the answer was that obvious and did not warrant a question.
“So proud,” he reaffirms your thoughts with hands cupping your cheeks and bringing his nose to playfully graze it with yours before he proudly lands a short yet sweet kiss on your lips.
“Jin, don’t do that in public,” you back away just a little, now noticing the people who’re just trying to walk the street.
Yet Seokjin laughs at you. “I thought you enjoyed public displays of affection.”
“I never said that,” you say as you take his hand and begin to walk off towards the apartment building the eight of you reside in, “that’s Taehyung and Hoseok. And Yoongi doesn’t care about anything so whether it’s embarrassing or not, he’ll do it if he’s in the mood — which can get a little frustrating.”
“Does it?”
“It does. Though now that I think about it, I think all of you except Namjoon and I care about modesty when it comes to displaying affections publicly.”
Seokjin raises a brow. “Jungkook too?”
“He enjoys seeing my reactions!” You say with a huff. “But then when I get him flustered, he goes on a whole rant as if he doesn’t do it frequently to me. Couldn’t you talk to him for me? He’d listen to you.”
“You think he’d listen to me?”
“You’re right, never mind, he never listens to you.”
“I listen well,” just as the elevator doors pop open, someone approaches the two of you from behind, their head propping in between your two bodies, “there’s just a time and place for everything.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes at Jungkook’s response as the three of you walk into the elevator. “It’d be good if you can listen to your elders, Jungkook.”
“Come on now, don’t start giving me life lessons again. It’s just that sometimes tuning some people out is the best thing to do.”
“Excuse me?” You hide your laugh behind a hand at Seokjin’s offended expression but he catches you quickly. “And what’re you doing teaming up with him? You were against him just a few seconds ago,” he says, snaking his arm around your waist to pull you in as you let out a yelp at his tickles.
“You can’t win against our maknae bond, hyung,” Jungkook snickers as he takes your other side, wrapping his arm around you as well.
“Stop, you’re going to suffocate me.”
Just then, the ding to the elevator is heard and you take their moment of distraction to escape their clutches, quick to rush out the doors and run for your apartment door.
When the door opens after unlocking the code, you run right in towards the first person you see, shoes and all.
“Yoongi catch!”
He looks like he’s just gotten up from a nap and yet when he sees you running towards him at full speed, he doesn’t think twice before his arms are instinctively holding you up when you jump onto him successfully.
“What’re you doing back early?” He yawns when another voice chimes in.
“Yeah, you’re not supposed to be back until an hour later,” Namjoon says.
You narrow your eyes. “Not happy at my early arrival?”
“I was trying to surprise you with a cake,” Taehyung yells from the kitchen, to which you turn to see both him and Jimin busy with frostings and cake batter.
“Tae? Baking?” You get down from Yoongi’s stronghold to walk towards them as Hoseok comes around to take your coat.
Taehyung pouts. “Are you doubting my skills? Why don’t you doubt Jimin?”
“Because we all know I’m a great baker.”
“Y/N, shoes.” Seokjin warns from where he stands, pointed eyes your way, stopping you just before you step into the kitchen.
Hoseok helps you out of them so you thank him with a kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he nods as he walks over to the shoe rack.
“What’s the cake for?” You step into kitchen territory once approved, peeking over Jimin’s side as he focuses on decorating the cake and seeing the words ‘congratulations’ on it. “Wha..but I didn’t even tell you what the results were.”
“Do we even have to hear it?” Jimin chuckles, stopping midway to give you a kiss on the head.
“You were that confident I’d do well?” Your lower lip juts out, feeling touched by their actions.
“Oh baby, we knew,” Taehyung says, kissing you on the cheek.
“Why is it that you guys spoil me so much? You’re going to overwhelm me.”
“Because you’re our girl, why else?”
Such a calm answer, so straightforward and simple as if that was obvious from the very beginning. They’ve always been like this; considerate and sweet, and when Taehyung pokes your nose and leaves frosting there and you chase him after to exact revenge, when Namjoon scolds the two of you in a calm voice and Jimin shouts at the both of you to not make a mess, Jungkook laughing in the corner, wanting to join in but Seokjin pulling him back, all the while Hoseok and Yoongi simply stands back observing it all, the happiness that bloomed from the very moment you met the seven of them and how they’ve managed to continue allowing you to live in these sweet moments, you know that you will never care for anything else as long as they remain by your side until the very end.
Nothing else in this world matters more than their love and support.
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between the lines | kth
→ title: between the lines | pairing: taehyung x f!reader → genre/au: fluff | college!au | rating: g | word count: 1.3k → warnings: none (?) is this the first time this has happened?? lol at least i don't think there are any, if you find one lmk. → summary: the boy you have a crush on loves to draw between the lines of your notebook. → a/n: thank you to holly for helping me with this fic title and the hubs for helping me draw some things! and happy birthday to taetae.
"Can I get a piece of paper? I forgot my notebook."
Without hesitation, you tore out a piece from yours and handed it to Kim Taehyung - the boy you had been crushing on since the first day of class. He first caught your eye when he showed up in a full-on suit, which you thought was odd, then on other days, he'll show up in a hoodie and sweats. He loved flip-flopping between the two styles.
"Can I also borrow a pen?" he asked with his bottom lip tucked under his teeth, hoping you didn't mind him asking more of you.
You chuckled and shook your head. How could you say no to that face? So you began digging through your bag for a pen. "Are you always this forgetful?" you asked, pointing the pen at him, waiting for him to take it. But also, how does someone come to class unprepared? It's not like it's a surprise.
Taehyung smiled. "Yes," he said, plucking it from your grasp.
"Don't lose it. It's my favorite pen." You already felt you wouldn't be seeing your pen again. There was a twinge of regret in your heart when he clicked the pen and began scribbling away. God, he's going to use all the ink!
Your professor continued his lecture. Twenty minutes in, and you couldn't stop yawning. An eight o'clock class was just too early for anyone's brain to function, but you wanted to get this class out of the way. And you liked the rest of your day free from classes.
Since you were young, you have always doodled in your notebook—little stars or spirals in the corner. You couldn't draw to save your life, but it helped pass the time.
You covered your mouth as another yawn escaped - the third one in ten minutes. You straighten your posture, hoping it will help.
Taehyung looked over, watching you struggle to stay awake. He focused on the pen, and the top was adorned with a brown bear. He leaned into your personal space, taking his thumb and index finger, and squeezed the bear.
"What are you doing?" you whispered as he squashed the bear violently between his thumb and index finger.
"It's squishy," he said, marveling at the softness.
You yanked it away from him. It's not like you were writing anything important, you were doodling, but he was interrupting. And yes, you bought this specific pen because it was cute, squishy, and a good stress reliever.
"…Sorry," he mumbled, sinking back into his chair. He returned to his previous position, facing the front.
You scowled at him, looking at his paper; he had nothing written down. What was the point of you giving him paper and a pen if he wasn't going to use them? You ignored the cute boy with fluffy hair and continued doodling away — swirls, clouds, and stars filled the corner of your notepad.
The professor's words went in one ear and out the other as you mindlessly drew; from your peripheral view, you could feel Taehyung's eyes back on you. Then you could see his raised arm coming in your direction, his pen drawing a nine-square grid with a big X in the middle.
You turned to him, catching his smirk before returning to the grid, marking an O in the top right corner. The two of you continued until it was a cat's game, and you would not let him win. Turning to him, you playfully stuck your tongue out before returning your focus to your professor. But you should've known that Taehyung wasn't finished playing games.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please take note of this section in the chapter because it will be on the next exam. This exam will be worth ten percent of your grade," said your professor.
You were ready to jot down the chapter he referenced but Taehyung nudged your hand, writing the letters: M.A.S.H.
God, he was relentless, wasn't he?
Growing up, you and your older sister used to play this silly game all the time. In the 'future partner' column, you wrote down your choices: Park Jimin — Taehyung's best friend, and Jeon Jungkook – Taehyung's roommate. And you were going to write down Yoongi, the TA but Taehyung knocked your hand out of the way, scribbling down his name.
The next column was the number of kids. The two of you took turns writing down numbers: 2, 99, and 4. You rolled your eyes at his 99. Imagine pushing out 99 kids? Is that even possible?
It was time to choose places you'd want to live. You'd always dreamt of Sydney and Paris, which you quickly wrote down before Taehyung wrote his choice — New York. His was also a good one, you couldn't complain.
Next was the type of transportation, and being the jokester he was, Taehyung scribbled a tandem bike, making you roll your eyes. Your choices were a Range Rover and, for giggles, a school bus. Taehyung snorted when he saw what you wrote.
You mouthed, "What"?
"Cute," he mouthed back.
You grinned at his comment. Did he mean you were cute or what you wrote was cute?
And lastly, was the column for future occupation. You paused to think as though this silly little game was real life, writing down tech bazillionaire. If you chose 99 children, you need to be able to provide for all of them. For the last two options, you let Taehyung choose: astronaut and art curator.
Now was the moment of truth, drawing the spiral to determine your fate. You elbowed Taehyung. "Tell me when to stop," you told him as you closed your eyes. With your pen to paper, you began drawing a spiral.
He leaned in, whispering, "Stop."
You opened your eyes, clearing your throat, when you realized how close he was to you. Looking at the spiral you drew, you counted seven lines and began counting and eliminating the written choices.
Taehyung snickered when his friends' names were crossed out, and you circled his name. "Guess we're getting married," he teased, licking his lips.
Honestly, you'd marry him in a heartbeat, no questions asked, given that you hardly knew the guy. It would help if you had a real conversation before letting him get on his knees.
You continued eliminating the choices written on the paper. Taehyung peered over to see the results of the silly game. He flashed a wide grin, chuckling softly. You guessed he was happy with the results, which concluded in a marriage to Kim Taehyung, with four kids, living in an apartment in Paris. The two of you would have to figure out the tandem bicycle as a mode of transportation because it wasn't suitable for a family of six. The occupation aligns more with Taehyung than it did with you. He was definitely artsier than your silly doodles on your paper.
You peered over at him again, but he was focused on the professor. You wondered what other interests and hobbies he had and if he was a good flirt through conversations, not just on paper.
"Okay, class. I will see you on Friday. Please study hard, and if you have any questions, you can reach me via my office hours."
Finally, the class was over, and you were getting ready to gather your things, but Taehyung stopped you from closing your notebook.
"What are you doing?" you asked, glaring at him as he scribbled something before closing it. He grinned as you watched him take off without saying a word. You wondered what his deal was
Half the class was already gone by the time you finished gathering your things. You flipped to the page the two of you had been writing on. Scanning the page, you saw what he wrote: I like you.
You had to give it to him. He knew how to make you blush with the simplest of things. Quickly, you grabbed your things to try and find him. You poked your head out the door, looking both ways before you spotted him. You caught his gaze just as he turned back.
"What about my pen?!" you yelled out after him.
He stopped in his tracks and turned around. "If you want it, come and get it."
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