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lemme-ship-that-ship · 1 month ago

Text

PG | KTH

Title: PG

Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff

Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.

Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm tyring to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 11,521

Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM

A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!

A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.

Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*

“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.

It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.

Well.

Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point.

Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends.

Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother.

Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out.

Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too.

For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two.

Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay.

And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him.

Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long.

Every time you could get it.

Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team.

For four years.

And then the university swim team.

For another four.

Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then.

The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would.

It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim.

Thank god for sunglasses.

“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you.

Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet?

Because oh yeah, his fucking smile.

Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong.

This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you.

It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.

As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung.

“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”

“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”

You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt.

You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that.

Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more.

With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught.

You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt.

You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.

Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart.

Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water.

You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.

You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.

Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool.

He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days.

Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun.

It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really.

Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped.

They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking.

And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that.

This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.

Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches.

He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets.

“Got any new recommendations for me PG?”

Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat.

He should dunk his head again.

You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes.

“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?”

Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him.

But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager.

“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit.

And it works like a charm.

Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.

Scratch that.

Definitely not.

“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.

Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”

“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”

No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again.

He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding.

“I’ll think about it—Fair?”

You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”

“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.

Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air.

By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend.

“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say.

Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.

“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”

“Sounds good. What about tonight?”

Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”

Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand.

He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.

“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”

You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over her shoulders, a hand gripping at each end.

“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother.

“—What—”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction.

“—Hey wait a seco—”

Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen.

“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool.

He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel.

“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins.

“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”

“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you.

You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.

“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”

Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”

You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch.

“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”

“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”

You pause. Eyeing him directly.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.

As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge.

“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell.

“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims.

You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.

And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven.

It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday.

Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for.

This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids.

She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you.

Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed.

That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break.

You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?

But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you.

Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually.

He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit.

So, with the fifteen feet between you two quickly shrinking, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer.

Son of a b—

“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks.

You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close.

“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.

Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you.

You need to get off the dance floor.

Now.

Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.

Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there.

The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.

Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed.

He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends.

They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays.

His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating.

No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother.

He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall.

He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent.

He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained.

And yet.

Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot.

All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.

He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you.

But you push him away.

He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.

Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.

But he won’t.

Can’t.

All because of his darling best friend.

Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.

You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’.

So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!

He has to stop thinking about you like this.

But that only makes him want you more.

It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment.

You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air.

But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages.

He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself.

He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did.

So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left.

Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist.

That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.

And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think.

Because Fourteen isn't here.

And old habits die hard.

“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt.

“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”

The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising.

A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner.

Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him.

Safe.

You’re safe.

Exhale.

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body.

Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous.

“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years.

How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?

You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.

“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”

And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung.

This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan.

The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety.

It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions.

Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight.

You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood.

“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”

Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”

You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor.

The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment.

Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.

Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by.

It’s private.

It’s safe.

You’re safe.

He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?”

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.

“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now.

“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth.

He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.

You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth.

“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed.

Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back.

You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.

But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it.

“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”

You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him.

“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black.

Oh you are so fucked.

“As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like.

“...Yeah...”

“I see.”

“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?

Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”

Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine.

The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point.

My Girl.

You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once.

Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,

“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”

The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up.

Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth.

You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips.

Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.

He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.

Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does.

“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes.

You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.

“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.

The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck.

They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows, the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing.

“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it.

More of him.

“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine.

You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.

“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it.

“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night.

“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.

It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.

The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere.

No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you.

He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone.

“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part.

It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.

“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently.

But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end.

With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.

He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.”

“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders.

It makes you smile wickedly.

“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw.

“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you.

Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick.

“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything.

Yet.

“Can you behave for that long?”

You smirk.

Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.

Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe.

You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well.

True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.

You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby.

The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need.

His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs.

It’s not helping and completely helping at the same time.

Fuck.

Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae.

Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.

To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky.

Mesmerizing.

Just like the man locking his door behind you.

A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his.

He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him.

You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge.

He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat.

You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure.

One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you.

You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks.

His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips.

Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees.

The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.

You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it.

It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well.

It hasn’t been one sided.

He wants you.

Taehyung.

Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung.

Wants you.

You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.

“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving.

“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”

The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned.

He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side.

At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.

His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming.

“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess.

He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis.

His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes.

You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body.

Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again.

“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time.

And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pore in your body. The damningly deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed.

You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.

Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again.

“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”

You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it.

He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.

He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.

“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out.

He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth.

Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time.

Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents.

He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.

Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you.

“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact.

“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.”

Thrust, tease, jolt, whine.

“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”

Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and delighted by his torture.

“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”

He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks.

“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.”

He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”

Tae pulls out, slow and controlled.

Blissful.

Then pushes back in, methodically.

Torturous.

Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.

Inevitable.

Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.

Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is.

One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over.

You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas.

Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well.

“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you.

“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough.

“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.

And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own.

“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.

“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless.

It’s a great move but it’s exerting.

You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone.

He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around.

He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass.

You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.

Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain.

It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance.

Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you.

It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.

“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care.

All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane.

Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be.

He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you.

Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion.

Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and drown in once another’s embrace.

You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.

Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.

“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another.

Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect.

Before consequences kick in and regrets form.

When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets.

Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning.

He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away.

Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning.

You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out.

Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”

But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies.

You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground.

“All of it. Any of it.”

There.

Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him.

You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—

“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”

You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened.

You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts.

“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself.

“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion.

It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg.

The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place.

You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move.

A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right.

An idea strikes.

Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door.

You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.

Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.

A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

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lemme-ship-that-ship · 1 month ago

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waterloo || (M)

Taehyung is a famous but pessimistic art prodigy who doesn’t believe in love. You are an art student studying in Paris, who sees the world through rose-colored lens and is a certified cheesy romance film enthusiast. And this is your love story.

Or, “Well, it is the city of love. Maybe you just need to fall in love.“

pairing: art prodigy!taehyung x art student!reader

word count: 13k

genre: FLUFF, angst, light tasteful smut

warnings: slow burn, tae kinda sucks at first, I wrote this before my Paris trip, so sorry for any lack of accuracy in describing la ville de l'amour ;)

A/N: inspired by the Mamma Mia 2 & @mylovertaehyung’s submitted prompt!

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

There was a murmur among the lecture hall, you noted, as you sat down in your usual seat, just to the right of your friend Jennie.

It wasn’t that your contemporary art lecture was usually quiet before your professor arrived, but there was something collective about their words as if everyone was talking about the same thing.

"What’s is everyone talking about?” You pondered to Jennie, eyeing the lovely black and white blouse she had on today. Jennie, unlike you who studied studio art, was a fashion major. There was hardly a day where she didn’t look put together, a hard contrast from you and your usually paint stained clothes.

Back when you first moved to Paris, Jennie had been the first person you had found a friend in. The two of you shared an English class and from then on had managed to have at least one class together per semester.

It had been two years since that first class with her and you were still grateful that circumstance had brought the two of you together. After landing a once in a lifetime scholarship to École Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts de Paris, you feared that you would struggle all alone in the new country but Jennie was in the same boat you were, having moved to Paris all by herself as well.

“Kim Taehyung is a guest speaker today, remember?” She enthused, flashing you an excited smile.

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lemme-ship-that-ship · 1 month ago

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Beyond Desire | 01

→ pairing: taehyung x reader → rating: 18+ only - m for mature - sexual content → genre: drama / smut / angst → words: 6.6k → disclaimer/warning: this is a piece of fiction based off of the fifty shades of grey series. this is not a parody. there are mentions of strong dominant and submissive lifestyles. there are also various psychological issues that are addressed throughout the series; including anxiety, self-destruction, panic attacks, and self-harm. this is a work of fiction and not to be taken as a promotion of the series, fifty shades of grey. this is an original piece of work. edit is created by me. enjoy! feedback is greatly appreciated.

→ chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 [series in progress]

→ summary: it’s never easy falling for your best friend when you have so much history. it’s especially difficult when you both share the same sexual desires and lifestyle. taehyung is a dominant CEO of a well known company in Seoul and you are an up and coming editor. while both of you come from a troubled and dark past, you lean on each other for support and comfort. what happens as your feelings blossom and grow over the years? what happens when you fear taehyung may be falling in love with someone else? will you confess your feelings or remain in the shadows?

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lemme-ship-that-ship · 1 month ago

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— BUZZED, 1 (m.)

pairing; taehyung/reader genre; f2l au, smut words; 6,848 rating; explicit

— synopsis; maybe ordering a vibrator and letting your best friend open your mail wasn’t such a great idea.

contents; sex toys, multiple orgasms, tipsy taehyung, fingering, dirty talk, phone sex (sort of), dom!taehyung, oral (f receiving).

— chapters; one | two

You stared at your laptop’s screen, gnawing on your bottom lip as you debated whether or not to purchase the item on the page.

Utimi Upgraded Silicone 10 Speed Vibrator. $19.78 + free shipping.

You crossed your ankles and tapped your fingers against the desk you were seated at, still mulling over this decision. Did you really want to spend almost $20 on a vibrator when your hand could clearly do the trick?

It started a few nights ago, when you’d gone over to your friend’s apartment for a wine night. A few of your close friends had gotten tipsy, and eventually—somehow—the conversation had dipped into sex. The friends hosting the get together gushed about how amazing their boyfriends were in bed, and you sat quietly while listening to a few others pipe up about their partners’ unsatisfactory performance.

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lemme-ship-that-ship · 1 month ago

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Obsidian (Master List)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Taehyung (V)

Rating: 18+ (smut)

Warning: Murder mystery, smut

Status Complete

Summary: The world of magic is divided into dark and light, witches and warlocks, choice and fate. You’re a prodigy of light, a witch who works within the police force. You’ve heard of Taehyung in passing, spoken in whispers as the warlock of dark who has the world holding it’s breath. All this changes on the night you’re assigned as security for a mysterious singer named V and you come face to face with Taehyung himself. What happens after that might be fate.

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lemme-ship-that-ship · 1 month ago

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Mold a Pretty Lie | 03

Pairing: professor!Jin x Fem undergrad!Reader

Genre: College!AU, Unhealthy relationships, toxic relationships, virgin reader, eventual yandere, eventual smut

Summary: They say love is like a garden that requires regular care and attention. Kim Seokjin, your kind and handsome professor, is more than happy to cultivate the vines that bind his heart to yours.

Word Count: 5002

Rating: 18+

~~~~~

"Aaaaand done!" you announced as you finished the final edits on your PowerPoint. Jimin and Taehyung cheered and fell on you in a pile of hugs as you laughed and tried to swat them off. A few weeks had been enough to desensitize yourself to their very physical brand of affection, and you had realized that was just how they were.

"You're the best," Jimin giggled, dodging your hands and squishing his cheek against yours as he skimmed your work.

"I can't believe you redid all of Crystal's work," snorted Taehyung, his chin resting on your free shoulder as you showed the two of them your final presentation. You imagined that from far away, the three of you looked like some strange three-headed chimera.

"I wasn't going to turn in garbage," you replied as you rolled your eyes and scanned for typos. "The stuff she added to the final paper was so bad."

"Are you sure it's not because you don't want to disappoint Dr. Kim?" teased Jimin, his grin growing even wider at the way you spluttered and shoved him off of you. Was your crush really that obvious?

You had always thought he was gorgeous - you had eyes - but it had only gotten worse after that meeting with him, where he had looked at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. You could still feel the ghost of his warmth around your hands, picture his gaze as he wiped the tears from your face. Every time you saw him, it was like something warm blossomed in your chest, attracting the butterflies that always seemed to flutter in your stomach when he smiled.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said with as much dignity as you could muster, feeling your face heat up in the face of identical cheshire grins. "I just take pride in my work, that's all."

"Suuuure," replied Taehyung with an obnoxiously handsome waggle of his eyebrows. "Because he's not the most attractive person on campus - "

"Besides the three of us, of course," Jimin finished, making you sigh and rest your forehead on the table. These boys were too much sometimes.

"Are those girls still giving you trouble, by the way?"

You looked up in surprise to see Taehyung gazing at you with an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face.

"What are you talking about?" you asked, your poker face much more convincing than it had been with Dr. Kim.

"Like that blanket statement he made about bullying last lecture wasn't because of you," replied Jimin, crossing his arms and also looking at you in concern.

"Oh," you said lamely, slumping in your seat. "Um, no, they haven't exactly been nice but now they just ignore me, which is a huge improvement."

"Good, I'm glad it helped," said Taehyung with a nod, and the way he and Jimin made eye contact sent a spark of suspicion through your brain.

"Glad what helped?" you asked with narrowed eyes. Something told you they weren't referring to Dr. Kim's stern lecture on zero tolerance for bullies.

"Oh, we just told them we're gay and together," Taehyung said with a casual shrug, as if commenting on the weather. You felt your eyebrows shoot into the stratosphere.

"Er… are you?" you asked, realizing that… you actually could believe it. Suddenly you felt silly for even thinking they had been flirting with you at the beginning. Until Jimin gave you a sly grin.

"Not… completely."

"Oh, cool," you said as casually as you could, like if you understood exactly what he meant. You didn't. But whatever he meant, they had already proven more than once that they were good guys and better friends, and that was all that really mattered to you.

"Anyway, you know what our project being done means?" asked Taehyung, grinning at you and looking so pleased you immediately felt on your guard.

"What…" you began slowly, feeling like you were falling into some sort of trap.

"It means it's time to celebrate!" answered Jimin, putting a hand on the top of your laptop to close it. To his credit, he paused and looked at you for approval before snapping it shut, and the sound echoed throughout the library as you sighed.

"I don't know…" you said awkwardly, only to be met with Jimin's devastating pout. "It's not even the weekend."

You turned to the side, but instead of reprieve, all that greeted you were Taehyung's wide, beseeching puppy dog eyes. "Oh my god, fine."

The way they jumped up and cheered was almost cute enough to make up for the way the people around you glared at the noise. Luckily - or unluckily - they grabbed your bag and swept you out of the library excitedly, and you let yourself be carried by the unstoppable current of their enthusiasm.

The two boys frogmarched you to your dorm, depositing in front of your door with strict instructions to be ready by 9pm, then left you to the overly excited ministrations of your roommate.

"FINALLY!" she screeched, yanking you into the room. "What are you gonna wear?"

"Uh… isn't this fine?" you asked, looking down at your jeans and t-shirt. Sierra closed her eyes as if your words had caused her physical pain.

"Not if we're going out with them," she said with heavy emphasis. "Let's slut it up a bit."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but feel a spark of agreement at the thought of putting in a little more effort into your appearance than usual. It certainly couldn't hurt, right? Phoebe had always put a lot of effort into her appearance, and it definitely worked for her.

"I'm still wearing pants," you insisted, not really wanting to worry about flashing anyone if you were going to be drinking. Sierra shrugged in agreement.

"I can work with that," she said, with a glint in her eye that made you gulp. Exactly what had you gotten yourself into?

It turned out it was actually a question of what she could get you into.

"Yeah, no," you said flatly, holding up the top Sierra had thrown into your face. "Isn't this just a bra?"

"It's a bralette," she corrected with a condescending flip of her hair. "And it's practically a long line, so it's not like it's any different from a crop top."

Right. Because you wore those all the time.

Still, you supposed Sierra had a point… it wasn't like what you were holding was even close to some of the things you'd seen girls wear to go out. You were supposed to be exploring new things and reinventing yourself, not hiding and sticking to the safety of your books and your dorm room. Right, this was the start of new, sexy, confident [y/n]!

Your newfound confidence carried you through changing into your tightest jeans, wiggling into Sierra's top, and putting on your make-up. As soon as you heard a knock on the door, however, it vanished into some unknown corner of your psyche. But it was too late now, and before you could even protest, Sierra was swinging the door open.

"The party's here!" Jimin announced grandly as he and Taehyung barrelled inside, pulling a fifth of Green Apple Smirnoff out of his backpack. They, of course, looked incredible.

Jimin's soft, bouncy hair was styled out of his face, and your eyes were drawn to the way his black skinny jeans hugged his thighs and calves. He was wearing just a simple white tee, but it looked so good on him that he needed no further adornment.

Taehyung looked just as gorgeous, his fluffy hair falling in his eyes in a way that invited unwary observers to brush it off of his forehead. He was almost matching his friend, in a white-and-black short-sleeved button up tucked into distressed black jeans, the top few buttons open to expose smooth olive skin.

You wanted to sink into the ground, humiliated to be wearing such a try-hard outfit next to such effortless beauty.

To your surprise, they looked just as dumbstruck by you as you felt, then Jimin gave you a dazzling grin.

"You ladies look fabulous," he said cheerfully, and Taehyung made a noise of agreement, his own eyes fixed to your sheepish face. You felt your face heat up, and part of your brain wondered what Dr. Kim would think of what you were wearing before you realized you definitely didn't need him to know you were partying on a weeknight.

"You guys too," you mumbled quietly, grabbing some plastic cups from the top of Sierra's desk as she ushered the boys inside, giving you a smug look as if vindicated in the way she had dressed you. You allotted one to each person before settling on your bed, and Taehyung sat next to you while Jimin took the free spot on Sierra's.

"You look really pretty," Taehyung murmured in your ear, his thigh pressed against yours. Your stomach fluttered as you looked into his dark eyes, and you were grateful for the distraction when Jimin opened the bottle to fill your cups.

"So where are we headed tonight?" you asked, trying not to focus too hard on the way Taehyung settled his arm around your bare waist. He was being a little touchier than normal, and it was decidedly distracting.

"Sigma Chi's having a party," Sierra suggested, earning a pleased giggle from Jimin.

"Just don't take any drinks from anyone," warned Taehyung seriously, his thumb drawing ticklish circles on your skin. "I've heard people call them the 'roofie frat.'"

"Ew, really?" you asked in disgust, taking a tentative sip out of your own cup. The flavor itself wasn't as bad - sweet and fruity enough to be palatable - but it was still strong enough to burn your throat. Seeing your expression, Jimin smiled and pulled a bottle of Sprite from his backpack.

"Chaser?" he asked, holding it out to you. You gave him a grateful smile in return, accepting the bottle and taking a gulp that settled your stomach almost immediately.

"Thanks," you said in relief, already feeling the tiniest bit woozy. You really didn't drink often - the last time had been with Phoebe in the confines of her house - but you didn't want to be boring.

Taehyung took your cup and poured some soda into it, then handed it back to you. You took a sip and smiled in delight, missing the way his eyes lingered on your lips.

"That's really good," you said happily, earning a pleased grin in response.

"Glad to be of service," he replied, setting his arm back around you and tugging you a little closer into his body. You tried not to feel too giddy, fully aware that Taehyung was just a flirty guy, and let yourself relax against him. He smelled incredibly nice, and you found yourself playing with his fluffy hair idly as the four of you chatted and drank.

By the time Jimin and Sierra stood up and announced it was time to leave, you were feeling decidedly warm, wobbly, and excited for a night out with your friends. What had you been so nervous about, again?

"You guys are the best," you giggled, accepting Taehyung's hand as he helped you up. Somehow your left foot caught on your right and you tripped into him, and he chuckled, a warm arm encircling your waist as you flushed and tried to regain your balance.

"We did it guys," laughed Sierra, a little unsteady on her own feet and leaning on Jimin for support. "We got her drunk."

"Shut up," you pouted at your roommate, though you let Taehyung continue to support you. Just for balance, not because it felt good to be snuggled into his side or anything.

The night air was refreshing against your skin as the four of you left the dorm, and you let out a pleased sigh, closing your eyes and spreading your arms to feel the breeze better. When you opened them, Taehyung was grinning at you.

"What?" you asked self-consciously, wondering if you looked like an idiot.

"It's fun to see you like this," he replied, reaching to grab your hand and twine his fingers through yours. "You're cute."

He laughed at the way you spluttered at his words, and tugged you along after Sierra and Jimin, who were also giggling about something ahead of you.

Your mind flashed back to Dr. Kim's office, when he had squeezed your hands oh-so-gently in his own, cradling them as he gazed at you with dark, affectionate eyes. You tried to shake him out of your head - there was no way he would ever look at you with anything like attraction in his gaze. Even if he wasn't your professor, he was older and so far out of your league it was laughable that you even had a crush on him.

You forced yourself to focus on the warmth of Taehyung's skin against yours, and the giggles floating through the night air. It was silly of you to think of things you couldn't have when you could be having fun with your friends.

There was a line to get into the frat house, but before you could shuffle to the back Sierra was dragging you to the door, where a bored-looking pledge was holding court.

"Sierra, we have two guys with us, we can't just - " you protested as the boys trailed behind you. She rolled her eyes. "Just look at them, babe. You know that if they're there, more girls will come."

"... Good point."

The four of you got in with little effort, the pledge's eyes fixed to your chest as he motioned you inside, and you resisted the urge to cover yourself.

You quickly forgot the unwelcome ogling as heat and sound assaulted you. You tried not to stare at the raucous scene before you, loud music and voices and bodies crushed together in a slightly nauseating mass.

"Let's go dance!" announced Jimin, his face shining with sweet mischief. He grabbed everyone's hand - somehow, despite only having two of his own - and dragged the three of you further into flashing lights.

Despite your initial reserve, it was actually quite easy to relax and settle into the crowd as the thrum of the bass melted into the alcohol simmering in your veins. Sierra let out a "woo!" that was drowned out by the music, and you giggled at her enthusiasm as you swayed your own hips to the beat.

Jimin and Taehyung were unsurprisingly good dancers, and if you hadn't been drunk it would have made you self-conscious about your own movements. They didn't try to grind on you or Sierra or anything - thank god, because if they had you might have died on the spot.

Jimin had brought along the rest of the Smirnoff, and the more you drank, the giddier you felt. In fact, you were having so much fun that you wondered why the party you had gone to with Phoebe had been so fucking awful.

Sierra decided to twerk on you, making you spill some vodka on yourself as you cracked up at her antics, oblivious to the way the boys' eyes were drawn to the alcohol trickling down your chest.

"Ugh, you party animal," you scolded with a grin, handing the bottle to Jimin. "I'm gonna go find the bathroom." You wanted to clean up. And all the drinking was also making its effect known to your bladder.

"Want me to come?" asked Taehyung, moving in a little closer to sling his arm around your shoulder.

"No, you guys should stay here and have fun," you urged, wriggling out of his grip with a smile. You didn't want him to miss out on the party just to chaperone you around. He pouted but obeyed, and you left in your errant night's quest.

The frat house was packed, red solo cups abound, and if you had been totally sober you might have felt overwhelmed and out of place. As it was, you barely noticed when anyone jostled you, your drunken mind focused on your mission.

Somehow, along your merry way you ran across a kitchen with a keg, acquired a cup full of foamy, semi-warm beer that you watched being poured like a hawk before accepting, and gotten propositioned no less than three times. It was a strange sensation, and you assumed the people asking were so drunk that anyone who walked by would do.

A tiny part of you wondered - hoped, really - that it was because they did actually find you attractive. You didn't think you were a hag or anything - prior experience just made you a little cautious. Though the more you drank, the more that cautiousness receded to the back of your brain.

By the time you finally found the line for the bathroom and did your business while trying to ignore the questionable stains around the toilet, your head was spinning. When you stumbled back into the hallway, it was into a familiar smelling chest, and you looked up to see twinkling brown eyes.

"You were taking forever, so I came to find you," said Taehyung with his endearing wide grin as he slung his arm over your shoulder. You smiled back, woozily admiring his ruffled hair and the stars in his eyes.

"I got a little lost," you said with a giggle, leaning into him to help stabilize your unsteady legs. "I haven't been to a frat house before. It's a lot."

Taehyung nodded in commiseration as he pulled you a little closer, and his eyes softened.

"Are you having fun, though?" he asked, hot breath raising goosebumps on your skin. You smiled and nodded, snuggling impossibly closer. His eyes flickered to your lips and your breath hitched when you realized how close his face was to yours.

Then someone rushed past the two of you and slammed the bathroom door. The sound of retching followed, breaking whatever spell had possessed Taehyung to look at you like that. He made a face and pulled away, though he laced his fingers in yours.

"Where are Jimin and Sierra?" you asked curiously, trying not to look at Taehyung's plump lips. Had you been about to have your first kiss? Or was it just wishful thinking?

"Probably sucking face somewhere," he replied offhandedly, making you snort in surprise. He gave you a mischievous grin and produced the nearly empty fifth. "They left me with this though. Shall we?"

You eyed the clear, innocuous liquid with a woozy head and slightly unsettled stomach, but you figured it was residual butterflies from earlier. And there was no way you could deny Taehyung when he looked at you so hopefully.

You replied by plucking the bottle from his grip, and giving him a grin that was much more confident than you felt.

"Of course."

~~~~~

"[Y/n], a moment before your next class?"

Dr. Kim called your name while you scrambled to pack up your things, and you winced in trepidation. You had purposely sat further from the front than usual in the hopes that he wouldn't notice your bleary eyes or the way you had nodded off during the lecture, but apparently that had been a futile effort.

"Um, hi Professor, what's up?" you asked bashfully when you met him at the front of the hall, too embarrassed to look him in his beautiful eyes.

"You didn't seem yourself today," he observed, and you felt your insides curdle in shame at the concern in his voice. "Are you getting sick? I know you're a hard worker, but I hope you're eating properly and getting enough sleep."

His consideration made those butterflies flutter in your stomach, which was unfortunate because you were also still incredibly nauseous. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths to try to settle your stomach. Unfortunately your pained expression still tipped him off.

"[Y/n]?"

You felt a large hand on your lower back, which did nothing but amplify your inner turmoil, and you were gently steered into one of the seats. When you opened your eyes again, Dr. Kim was kneeling in front of you, worry emanating from his broad frame.

"Do you need to see a doctor?"

Shame washed over you as you met his earnest gaze. It was bad enough that you had gotten wasted enough to spend part of the night puking while Sierra held your hair for you, forcing everyone's night to end early. Now here was your amazing, brilliant, gorgeous, kind professor worrying that you were sick, when really you were just incredibly hungover from the first college party you had ever been to.

"I'm fine," you managed to stutter, feeling unbearably guilty that he was wasting his time. Something in his gaze compelled you to elaborate, because you couldn't bring yourself to lie to him even if you lost his respect. And you were so comfortable in his presence, you felt like you could tell him things you wouldn't dream of bringing up to another authority figure.

"It's just… um, this is really embarrassing," you mumbled, worrying at your lower lip with your teeth as you stared into Dr. Kim's hypnotic eyes. Being the center of his undivided attention for such a stupid reason made your chest ache.

"It's okay, you can talk to me," he told you with a soft smile, hand hovering forward as if to touch your arm before he pulled it back. You tried to ignore the disappointment that washed over you, remembering just how big and warm his hand had been when he guided you to your chair.

"Well, my group and I finished most of our project yesterday," you began, looking down at your lap where your fingers were playing with the hem of your sweater.

"Of course you did," Dr. Kim said with a chuckle. The approval in his tone made you flush harder, and you swallowed before continuing.

"And… I don't really go out but they convinced me to celebrate," you continued, biting your lip as you peeked up to gauge your professor's expression. His eyebrows had raised slightly, but he didn't look angry or upset.

"I don't have a lot of experience with drinking, so I went a little overboard," you finished in a rush, face positively burning at this point as you twisted and stretched the fabric of your sweater in indiscernible shapes. "That's why I'm not feeling well today."

"I see."

You couldn't decipher the tone of Dr. Kim's voice, and you were too embarrassed to look him in the eye anymore.

"I'm sorry for worrying you," you murmured softly, voice quivering a little as you realized heat was building behind your eyes. Seriously?? Your traitor body wanted to cry now of all times? Because apparently you hadn't embarrassed yourself enough?

"[Y/n]."

Dr. Kim's gentle hands pried your own off of your mutilated sweater, setting them in your lap before he pulled away. His voice was so, so soft, and the unexpected touch made you look at him again.

"You're in college, things like this happen," he assured you soothingly, an understanding smile gracing his plump lips. "But I hope you were safe? You drank a lot of water, didn't accept any open drinks, that sort of thing?"

How was he so thoughtful? You showed up to his lecture hungover and barely able to function, fell asleep over your notes, worried him to the point he felt the need to check in on you, and still here he was trying to make sure you were safe.

"Y-yeah, Taehyung warned me about that," you stammered, too enamored by his concern to notice the way his jaw clenched.

"That's one of your group members, right?"

There was something a little too casual about his tone, but the relief that he wasn't angry or disappointed with you overshadowed any other feeling.

"Yeah, but him and Jimin were great at looking out for me. It was my fault for being irresponsible," you insisted, not wanting to give your professor a bad impression of them even if it made you look stupider. "They got me home and my roommate took care of me."

Despite your explanation, his face had tightened somewhat, and you fought the urge to twist your already stretched out sweater in your hands once again.

"I hope you'll be more careful in the future," he scolded softly, and you hung your head, feeling small and stupid and oh-so-immature. "Trusting your safety to two college boys you don't know very well… well, I'm glad the night ended alright, but it would break my heart if anything happened to you."

Your own heart stopped at those words, and you silently scolded yourself. He obviously didn't mean it like that. Especially since you had probably now ingrained yourself in his head as an irresponsible party kid.

"You're right," you agreed, and some of the tension left his face. "If I go out with them again I'll definitely be more conscious about how much I drink and what I'm doing."

Dr. Kim's jaw clenched once more when you said you might go out with the boys, but you assumed it was out of worry, and it warmed your heart. You glanced at the clock behind him, and your eyes widened in shock. Apparently over twenty minutes had passed while you lost yourself in the enthralling spell he had woven around you.

"Oh no, I need to get to my next class," you fretted, jumping to your feet, then swaying as the blood rushed away from your head and your nausea came crashing back. Gentle hands held your shoulders to steady you, and a woody, citrusy scent filled your nose. You instinctively leaned in for more, only coming to your senses when his touch vanished and he stepped away from you.

"Uh, s-sorry," you stuttered, feeling like a total moron as you scurried over to gather your backpack so you could avoid looking at your probably creeped out professor. God, this whole day was a disaster already.

"Get some Gatorade on your way," he called as you made your way to the exit, settling some of your nerves. You turned back to smile at him.

"I'm more of a Powerade kind of girl."

~~~~~

Seokjin stood rooted to the spot, staring at the door you had just left from and at a complete loss for what to do about the tempest swirling inside of him.

You had shown up to the lecture looking completely exhausted, and when you passed your usual row in the front to take a seat in the back with a pair of handsome boys, an ugly sensation twisted around his gut. It only grew thorns when the boys teased and poked you, earning an adorable pout that shouldn't have been bestowed on anyone else.

The way those boys had looked at you - they had to be Jimin and Taehyung, he realized - had sent something white hot through his veins. It wasn't hard to assume they might be the cause of your exhaustion, and imagining the reasons why had turned his normally cheerful demeanor stony. You had been too out of it to notice, and at one point he had even seen you nod off.

When he kept you after the lecture, it truly had been to make sure everything was okay. You were normally so active and energetic, and your uncharacteristic lethargy had made him wonder if you were getting sick. A silly part of his brain had already begun thinking of soup recipes, as if it wouldn't have been strange for him to care for you in such a manner.

It was a surprise to find that you had been hungover of all things, especially since you were typically such a responsible student. He hadn't been able to keep himself from tensing in irritation when you confessed that you had been with the two boys, though the vines constricting his chest eased when you confirmed you had ended up back in the dorms alone.

Then there was the way you had been so adorably abashed to admit your activities to him, eyes wide, anxious, and mesmerizing. You seemed so worried about his opinion, and every time you looked down he had to resist the urge to cup your chin to force you to meet his gaze.

You also had a habit of chewing your lip when you were worried or deep in thought, and it was growing increasingly difficult to ignore the way your teeth left the skin red and puffy. The way he was beginning to feel about you was incredibly inappropriate, and he had no idea how he was supposed to put a stop to it.

His actions were beginning to toe a dangerous line, but he couldn't help wanting to take care of you. The image of you, pretty and drunk and an easy target for two handsome boys made his hands tighten into fists. Anything could have happened, and there wouldn't have been anything he could do to protect his favorite student. And it could still happen, especially since you had essentially confirmed you would go out again.

He had no right to dictate what you did or who you hung out with - he was just your professor, and you were just a student he had grown a little too fond of. All he could do was feed you advice and hope it stuck even a fraction of the way your roots had sunk into his own thoughts.

The flush on your face at his gentle rebuke had sent a twinge of guilt through him - was he using your crush to influence you? - before he shook it away. Being alone and drunk with relative strangers was a dangerous situation for anyone, and if it kept you from getting too close to those boys, well, it was for your own safety.

You were a good girl. He knew you would take his words to heart.

~~~~~

Next | Masterlist

Tags: @moonleeai @random-and-out-of-context @amenjiminsan @innebulae @lonewolfsinclair @seoqity @lilacdreams-00 @chowb @shescharlie @mazmaz30 @definetlythinkimanalien @seokjins-luigi @lucci-girl @xicanacorpse @bighitbabie

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lemme-ship-that-ship · 1 month ago

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Schemes and Tricks to Win Her Heart | Masterlist

Synopsis: Rich company heir Kim Seokjin has a plan to win the heart of the girl of his dreams, and you, his little brother’s best friend, are dragged along for the ride. His younger brother objects, of course. Bestfriend!Taehyung and Chaebol!Jin. Taehyung x Reader

Chapters:

Chapter 1

In which Jin has been watching far too many romcoms.

Chapter 2

In which everyone is keen to inform you of what a horrible decision you’ve made.

Chapter 3

In which Jin never does things by halves.

Chapter 4

In which it turns out Jin’s mother is a little too meddling

Chapter 5 FINAL

In which Taehyung experiences a slight misunderstanding

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lemme-ship-that-ship · 1 month ago

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✎ Neighbors: Chapter 4: Cookies & Introductions

🤎𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: OnlineInfluencers!BTS OT7 (Eventually) x Animator!Fem!OC!Reader, Model!Jimin x ProfessionalGamer!Jungkook, Model!Jimin x Animator!Fem!OC!Reader x ProfessionalGamer!Jungkook, Artist!Taehyung x Animator!Fem!OC!Reader (If you squint), Artist!Taehyung x Model!Jimin x ProfessionalGamer!Jungkook | 🌙𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Fluff, College AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, 3rd Person | 🖊️𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,695 Words | ✏️𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: Not Edited! | ❌𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: None(?)

🍁𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After fussing over meeting their new found friend, Taehyung doesn’t know how to feel about the girl. By coincidence they managed to meet but he doesn’t seem completely convinced.

👻𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐛𝐬: Woo! Update! Lol I'm starting to debate if I should start writing for Arcane too.

🐻 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“January pitches her voice over the noise: last year’s ghosts are dead, that’s reason enough to celebrate.” — Angela Lowes, ‘January is an Optimist’

He walked up to the house's shared office where he knew Namjoon and Jin were going to be at. He already had a semblance of what they were going to say to him, he really didn’t feel like talking about it. The crowd wasn’t necessarily a mistake, he was just having a little fun. He didn’t mean to hurt anyone or break whatever illusion of normalcy they were trying to build. He didn’t know how they were meant to live normally either, their faces were plastered everywhere and people knew them by name. He didn’t see the harm in walking around and flaunting it a little, maybe even getting a couple new fans to watch his videos and check out his modeling stuff. He let out a sigh as he knocked on the door and opened it when there was a soft ‘come in’ from the other side.

Time to get this over with.

When he walked in he was greeted with Namjoon’s disappointed eyes and Jin’s annoyance. Ah yes, the parents of the group. He expects no less. “Take a seat.” Namjoon says motioning to a chair that was positioned in front of them. Jimin couldn’t help but feel nervous now, he knew they weren’t going to hurt him but it felt like he was being interrogated for a crime. When he sat down is when the silence completely dissipated.

“You know what you did was stupid right?” Jin spoke up brashly while Namjoon put his hand up and looked at Jin.

“What Seokjin means is that, we wished you would have ran over what you were planning with us before you did it. It could have been dangerous.” Jimin’s tense posture from before eased up a little and he frowned looking down a little guilty. They were just worried.

“What if you got kidnapped! Or some person came and hurt you! What would we have done then?” Jin continued his anger from before melting down to worried eyes and a soft sigh. “We’re just worried about you.” He added on after a bit of silence. Jimin nodded and looked down, he didn’t want to apologize because he should be able to do what he wanted. He was a grown man after all. On the other hand though he felt bad, he didn’t mean to worry his boyfriends like that and mulling it over was a bit dangerous. It wasn’t a controlled environment and anyone could have been there. He didn’t regret it though, he managed to meet Chul. How could he regret that?

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking and I didn’t mean to worry you guys. It won’t happen again, I’ll fill you in next time I plan something like this.” It was a half truth and a sincere apology, he definitely was sorry but…he might forget to fill them in if he had another crazy stunt to pull. And his two boyfriends were aware of that, hence the looks they gave each other basically saying with their eyes ‘He’s not going to’. Jin shook his head but smiled a little, he loved him no matter how convoluted or stupid he could get. Namjoon also smiled, laughing a little and motioning Jimin over so they could hug it out. The tense and upsetting atmosphere simmering down now full of laughs and kisses.

“Please be more careful.” Namjoon said when Jimin pulled away and he nodded agreeing to at least be a little more careful with his next plan. They spoke for a little longer about plans for the rest of the day and what everyone will be up to. With one last kiss to both their cheeks Jimin walked out the room. He peeked around noticing Yoongi wasn’t there assuming he went to his room to nap or to his studio. He hummed and walked to Jungkook’s room knocking on the door to see if it was okay for him to walk in. He’s had too many instances of walking in when Jungkook was streaming and didn’t need for that to happen again. Jungkook had stood up to open the door and gave his boyfriend a big bunny smile.

“How did it go?”

“Better than expected. They were just worried, you know how they are.”

“Do you still want to cuddle?”

“Damn right I do.” Jungkook laughed while Jimin smiled big, they linked hands and went to find Taehyung to add to their cuddle pile. Said man was painting something, neither one of the other two knew what but it seemed so important that it took Jimin and Jungkook to pull out the puppy eyes. The man sighed, falling victim to their cute gazes and grumbled.

“Fine. Let me clean up.” Both cheered and decided to help, more like Jungkook helped and Jimin sat watching as they moved around. Subtly checking out his boyfriends because hey, how couldn’t he when they looked so good. When they were done Jimin took both their hands and dragged them to his room also known as Taehyung and Jimin’s room since they tended to spend the most time together. They also piled in, Tae changing into a pair of more comfortable clothes than his smock and paint littered pants. Getting comfortable, Jimin in the middle and Jungkook and Taehyung on either side, they started having light conversation.

They talked about classes, professors and other random things. Such as games, food, and works in progress. They continued this light conversation with gentle actions, some tracing of patterns on exposed skin, soft cheek kisses. Everything was gentle and soft in that moment until at one point they started talking about Chul. “She seems so sweet. I’m glad we managed to make a friend.” Jungkook mused and Jimin nodded along.

“She also seems to not know who we are. And if she does she hides it really well.” This was a run over of their conversation in the car, they were speaking more about it to try and get Taehyung to agree to meet her. They thought if they fluffed her up and made it known she wasn’t a crazed fan he would be open to meeting her. Taehyung sat there not knowing how to feel exactly. He was glad his boyfriends had found someone new to talk to but he was always overprotective of them. He tended to be more closed off than the rest, not as much as Yoongi but definitely to an extent. When it was just Jimin and him he didn’t know how to feel when Jimin brought up the fact that he was starting to have feelings for Jungkook. For a while he had blocked Jimin out. It wasn’t his boyfriend’s fault he just had some trust issues he had to get over and when he managed to finally accept Jimin and Jungkook being a thing he somehow got pulled in as well and now here he was with 6 other boyfriends and he couldn’t be anymore happier.

But what if she’s different?

What if she actually ends up using them? Or hurt them?

‘You’re getting ahead of yourself Taehyung. They’re talking about a friend, nothing more.’ He frowned to himself but tried to press a smile onto his lips.

“She’s also really pretty. Come on Tae! You would like her.~” Jimin said trying to convince his boyfriend while Jungkook nodded his head.

“She’s also a Photographer! You guys could bond over that.” Jungkook added in with a big smile and Jimin nodded quickly at that. Tae felt emotions stirring in his stomach as he looked at the two.

“I don’t know…”

“Oh please! Please!”

“If you don’t get along you don’t have to talk to her ever again. But at least meet her first before judging her.” They both gave him puppy eyes and he sighed. He was really a fool in love, huh?

“Fine. But if I don’t get good vibes from her, I’m not spending time with her and you guys have to lessen your time around her.” They both cheered knowing that wasn’t going to happen and they had a good feeling.

A feeling that Tae would trust her straight away. They could be wrong but it never hurts to be a little optimistic. After talking about ways they could meet, they changed the subject and talked for a little longer before they each had to go their own ways. Each saying goodbye with a hug and soft kiss.

Taehyung tried to focus on his day knowing Jimin and Jungkook were blissfully unaware of his thoughts but his mind kept swirling. Wondering about what this girl could do to them and it was making him slightly sick. He tried to shake off the feeling and focus on setting up and getting ready for a Live he had planned for.

She couldn’t be that bad. Right?

It had been a couple days since the incident, Jungkook and Jimin trying everything they could to get Taehyung and Chul to meet. They asked her on days that Tae wasn’t busy and asked him on days he wasn’t bust. It always seemed that the other had something to do when the other was free and it was starting to frustrate the younger men. Jimin had gone pouting at Yoongi about it going to lay on his chest while the older scrolled through his phone.

“Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.” Jimin scoffed at that and disagreed right away. Yoongi rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through Jimin’s hair. “Then let it happen naturally. If you guys keep forcing it, it’ll never happen.” And Jimin actually mulled that over. Maybe he was right, forcing them to meet like this wouldn’t get them anywhere, letting them meet by coincidence or when everything falls into place would be better and definitely reap better outcomes. So that’s what they did, they let things go with the flow and see what happens.

Cul was in her kitchen running around with flour on her face and apron. Her phone was propped up with San, Wooyoung and Hongjoong on the screen watching her run around. “I still don’t understand why you’re doing this. It’s literally been, what, a month since they moved in. I bet your neighbors don’t even care.”

“Don’t listen to him, I think it’s sweet that you’re doing this for them.” San said, giving his boyfriend a disapproving look. Wooyoung just rolled his eyes and ate from the bag of chips in his hand as he let them chat.

“Plus, you didn’t have to do this for them so I bet they’ll appreciate the effort you put in.”

“I really hope they do like them. I tried to make sure they were allergy friendly, gluten free, you know so they don’t hurt anyone.” She pouted a little worryingly at her bottom lip while San chuckled at her and Hongjoong calmed her down, letting her know that it would all be fine.

“Since you’re making them cookies did you make us stuff too?” Wooyoung butted in everyone going silent. Hongjoong and San looked at Woo while he just shrugged.

“What?!”

“Don’t ask things like that! It’s rude!” Chul laughed at her friends pulling the cookies out of the oven and putting them to cool.

“It’s okay guys. I did make enough for you all too.” She smiled softly and laughed when Woo cheered, San shaking his head and Hongjoong just smiled with a small laugh at all of them. They kept talking like that until Chul’s cookies cooled.

“Let me know how it goes, if they’re rude I’ll go over there and give them a piece of my mind.” Hongjoong said playfully which made Chul laugh and Woo scoffed.

“As if your scrawny ass could do anything.” Hongjoong looked at him incredulously about to start an argument.

“Okay, it’s time to say goodbye before the girls start to fight.” San interjected, causing Chul to laugh louder and the other two started to throw offended comments at him.

“Bye guys!~” They each said their own goodbyes before she hung up. She moved the cookies into a pretty container with a cloth napkin at the bottom of it. When she was sure it was well packed she grabbed a heavier jacket and scarf. Slipping on some boots and heading to the house next to hers. She took a deep breath at the door before raising her fist and knocked.

She waited a second before groaning and realizing she could have rung the bell instead and did that hoping no one heard her knock the first time. She waited for some time hoping she wasn’t intruding on anyone's time. She stood there a bit longer before deciding to go, chalking it up to no one being home until she heard the lock of the door open. She quickly turned back and smiled big at the person being greeted with brown eyes and wavy dark brown hair. “Oh! Hello, um I’m sorry for bothering you but I live next door. I know it’s been a little while since you’ve moved in but I thought I should introduce myself!” She bowed to him. “My name is Lee Chul, it’s nice to meet you.” She smiled as she stood upright again and held up the cookies. “I made you all some cookies. I hope there’s enough, I wasn’t sure how many people lived here so I made a few just in case.”

Taehyung was annoyed when he heard the doorbell ring, having been in the middle of streaming. When he didn’t hear another ring he let it go until Namjoon came down with crossed arms and asked him politely to check the door that he and Yoongi were bust and if he could do them this favor. He sighed irritated but nodded telling his viewers to give him one second and he muted walking to the door. He opened the door and looked unamused at the girl at the door. About to tell her that they weren’t interested until she started talking before he could. She was extremely cheerful for someone standing in the cold. It kind of irritated him but he couldn’t be mad when she looked kind of cute. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe with a bored expression on his face until she mentioned her name. ‘Lee Chul, huh? Is this the girl Jungkook and Jimin wanted him to meet?’ He tried to hide his smile at the massive coincidence and irony here. He bowed back and gently took the container.

“Thank you, sweetheart. It was kind of you, I’m Taehyung. Kim Taehyung. It’s nice to finally meet who lives next to us, we started to think it was haunted.” He teased, causing Chul to blush in embarrassment and Tae held back his laugh. “I’m sorry to cut this short but I’m a bit busy right now, maybe we’ll meet again.” Chul nodded her head still smiling, which intrigued him. They said their goodbyes and he closed the door walking to the kitchen to put the container on a counter.

He could see why they wanted him to meet her, she was cute, cheerful and seemed to be full of life. But that didn’t stop her from being able to hurt them. Jungkook and Jimin were too trusting and he wasn’t going to let some girl hurt them. He would need to just ring her out and see what she could handle. He opened the container expecting the cookies before taking a bite out of one.

They were good.

He grumbled as he finished the cookie. He heard footsteps and noticed Jungkook. He explained that someone came to the door to introduce themselves as their neighbor and brought them cookies. He left out the fact that it was Chul, he wanted to have a little fun with this.

“Cookies?! Awe, that’s sweet of them, I wish I went down. Would have loved to say hello to them.”

‘Oh you would have.’ Tae thought, as a small smirk was playing on his lips.

“So, when do I get to meet this friend of yours, um, Chul was it?” Jungkook brightened up at his question, too excited to see Tae’s face.

✎ @honey-andmilktea - 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. [2025 - 2026]

✎ Thank you for reading! Since you've made it this far please consider reblogging, commenting or getting a coffee at the Coffee Corner! [Ko-fi]

✎ Taglist: @armysantiny, @faywithlove, @kpopadminnie, @iridescentxstars, @felicityroth

✎: @angelfuzzy2, @singukieee

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