#I mean????? just their dynamic with the mc I was on the FLOOR u know? and the nightmare scenes!!!!!! my god! the bestest! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moccahobi · 1 year ago

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Eek! What a cool first chapter!

As an introductory chapter, I feel you weave so many important points to keep an eye on in this! Altho there was a lot we were learning about the dynamics of the mc and Tae and Namjoon and his friends, the way you wove exposition into the more action focused scenes of moving in was so wonderful!

We got moments of flashbacks that showed the mc's vulnerability and showed prime character points (like Tae saying Namjoon and the MC were "normal" and Namjoon's subsequent comment normal being relative). The characterization that we got to see as readers was shown through actions and flashbacks in ways that feel so much more tangible and reliable than what a character might say (... tae with his normal).

I also love how the conflict/s that might arise were woven throughout the chapter and slowly laid out/hinted at (LIKE WHEN TAE TOOK TOO LONG TO RESPOND AT THE WE THING? BRO U GET THEM ROOMING TOGETHER WTF U MEAN BY THAT SILENCE?).

There are also moments of humor that are shown through this story which helps keep the mood overall light (like the normal comment... sorry i keep harping on it lolol... and like Tae and the MC knowing Jimin was sleeping instead of helping with moving in). This lightness also really helped ease my mind off of some of the questions that are itching my brain.

Who does the mc know in the ot7 friend group? Have they met the members through Tae? Or will Namjoon also introduce them? Did Tae intentionally not introduce the mc to the members? Why isn't the mc close to them?

How does this theme of loneliness play out further? What will happen next for the mc? How will they grow? Will we see something in Namjoon as well that might need some care as well?

I am HOOKED! And can't wait to continue this series (in 5-10 business months because i am such a slow reader it is tragic... BUT I WILL READ IT!)

My live reation is under the read more.

I feel the living with a man. I don like the idea of it unless I know them well!

Oooof. That's tough! Not being able to room with who you wanted can be so challenging!

"Actually a good plan" 🤣🤣🤣 I love taes sas!

Their heart ran wild when tae offered his couch???? Do I sense unrequited love??

RIPPPPPPPPPP THEY DEF DO! I HAD JUST ASSUMED TAE TAUGHT THEM FRIENDLY LOVE BUT NOOOOOOOO

Tae bear is such a cute nickname!

😬😬😬 dysfunctional friendship??? What are u alluding to here!?!?

"It'll warm up before fall comes in full force". Ah yes. The autumnal foreplay

Too much stuff! 😭😭😭MEEEEEE

EEK! THEIR MEETING! I'd so do what Namjoon did with knocking too. Just to announce yourself. Esp when norms aren't set yet.

Love how tae said to both of them that the other is normal! 🤣🤣🤣 AND THE SUBJECTIVITY OF NORMAL!

The good person face! 😭😭😭 also I am namjoon awkwardly asking for a number

Inchresting comment abt boredom tae. I wonder if Namjoon would disagree or if I'm projecting 🤔🤔🤔

Oof. The emptieness of a place u just move into is so real! I relate so much.

Oh! I like how Namjoon and the mc have common friends outside of tae! It might make stuff harder if the mc confesses to tae and he lets them down... but that's just an if ówò

THE DOOR OPEN POLITICS! I feel this so hard with like how much it can affect housing dynamics.

YOONGI WIRH THE YOURE WRONG LINE ONGG

I feel the jumping! Also why is he on the floor???

Why did tae take so long after the WE?!? HUH??? HUH???

The awkward "you guys are close" comment 😭

Oof. Taes past relationships sound like they've taken quite a toll on the MC

Oh! Interesting question about how tae sees the mc!

I love how you tie their friendship with tae to loneliness. It really broadens the conflict past unrequited love and to the question of belonging! Which is such a cool and complex one!

I. Your Wild-Running Heart || KNJ

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love.

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

When your roommate bails last-second and leaves you completely in a bind for the new school year, your best friend Taehyung mentions that his friend Namjoon needs a place off-campus, too.

Section Warnings: language

WC: 7k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Friday August 28

“Please, no,” you beg. “Please tell me this is a joke. I can’t live with a man. Do you know what men are like?”

Taehyung, quite a specimen of man last time you checked, cocks an eyebrow at you. “Y/N,” he says flatly. “You’re doing it again.”

It meaning being dramatic, and you resent that implication.

You whine, shuffling your feet unhappily. “But Tae,” you say - okay, you whine. “If my roommate is a guy, then I have to wear a bra in the apartment, like, all the time.”

“Oh my god,” he says, throwing his hands in the air, completely over you. “Do you want my help or not? What are your other options right now?”

How nice of him to ask.

You’d been so excited to lease an apartment off-campus for your final year of university, even more excited to share it with a girl in your writing program named Penny. You hadn’t thought twice about putting the lease in only your own name, but when Penny texted you - the audacity of her to not even call - to say she wasn’t going to return in the fall after all, you were stuck with the responsibility.

So, since Taehyung asked, your options are this: pay the entire rent by yourself (impossible), or find a roommate, fast.

“Namjoon’s a really good friend of mine,” Taehyung tries again. “I am personally vouching for him that he’s not a weirdo or a creep. His building flooded and he’s in a bind - just like you. He’s nice, he’s smart, and he’s normal.”

“What about clean?” you prod.

Taehyung shrugs. “Cleaner than me.”

You sigh. You know Taehyung is right - you need someone quickly, and at this rate you’re bound to only find creeps. At least this guy - even though he’s a guy, which is your main issue - has been vetted.

“You’re not very clean,” you tell your best friend.

He grins at you, guilty as charged.

“Could we talk first?” you suggest, nerves churning. “Like, can I meet him?”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you. “Did you think I was going to drop the key off at his place and say ‘okay, have fun!’?”

“Maybe!” you cry, feeling a little hysterical.

Taehyung rolls his eyes at you. “Want me to see if he can swing by the place tomorrow?”

The plan for the next day was originally for you two to load up your car through the morning, grab lunch somewhere, and then start moving your stuff into the apartment after you ate.

“Yeah,” you answered. “That actually sounds like a good plan. Then he can see the apartment, too. And you’ll be there with me.”

“Actually a good plan,” Taehyung parrots with a scoff. “Please.”

After your lunch date, Taehyung drops you back home so you can finish packing. You’d packed a lot already - all of your big pieces of furniture were there already, your bedroom now just a mess of random piles of clothing and your bare mattress on the ground. A lot of what you still had were things you knew you’d need to use again during the days you were starting to pack - toiletries, electronics, that kind of thing. With a sigh, you turn on some music and start pulling hangers out of your closet.

You think about your situation as you work. You’re disappointed about Penny - you’ve lost a roommate and a good friend, somehow. You’re nervous about meeting Taehyung’s friend Namjoon. You’re somehow both excited for and dreading the academic year starting - your final year, complete with a senior thesis course you’ll have to pass in June. And you’re excited for the apartment - your first one that isn’t an on-campus dorm.

No campus security knocking on the doors, no RA going through your fridge for forbidden liquor bottles, no shared hallway bathrooms. With your own bedroom in the apartment, you’re guaranteed a space that is just yours, a sanctuary where you can have the quiet you crave and aesthetic you want, your own four walls that are completely your own.

Taehyung’s apartment, which he shares with two friends, isn’t far from your new one - walking distance, actually. He’d offered you his couch there when Penny first bailed. But even if you took his offer, you’d be charged for breaking your lease, and you’d still have to find something more permanent - which would mean another security deposit, not to mention rent. As long as you kept the optimism that you’d successfully secure and keep a roommate, staying was the cheaper option.

You won’t talk about how you wish Taehyung would offer more than his couch.

You won’t talk about how when he’d said, “You know, you could stay with me,” in that deep, comforting voice of his, your heart had run wild.

Then he’d continued, “That couch isn’t too bad to sleep on, I’ve done it before. And the guys wouldn’t mind. Then you’d have time to find something new, maybe something you can afford alone?”

And your wild-running heart had stuttered, stumbled, caught its footing, stood still.

You can’t even get mad at him. He’s trying to help. It’s not his fault - at all - that he doesn’t know that your imagination leapt off a cliff at his words, was already picturing snuggling in his bed, those strong arms tight around your middle, was already picturing waking up to his sleepy smile.

You don’t pretend for even a second that it’s anyone’s fault but your own.

Around ten pm your Aunt Lin comes and knocks on your open door, looking down at the scene before her: you, sitting cross-legged on your bedroom floor, surrounded by half-closed boxes, miscellaneous items strewn around the floor around you, clothing piled up like mountains around you.

“You don’t look very ready,” she remarks.

“That’s helpful, thank you,” you say.

Lin has raised you ever since you lost your grandmother, who had taken care of you before that. Your grandmother and Lin are the only parental figures you can really remember, but Lin’s technically only ten years your senior and has always felt more like a big sister than a mother. You can’t fault her for it; she was still quite young when she took over raising you. She certainly didn’t have to take you in, but she had, and she’d done her best.

Lin chuckles. “Why isn’t Taehyung here helping?”

You roll your eyes. “He’s my friend, not my servant. He’s helping me move all this in tomorrow, that’s plenty.”

Lin shrugs, already disinterested. “Okay,” she says lightly. “Well, I wanted to say good luck with the move, and good luck with school this year. Let me know if you need anything.”

You look up from your packing and take in her appearance. She’s in scrubs, a huge thermos of coffee in her hand. She’s got work tonight, then, and won’t be here in the morning when Taehyung picks you up. You should have figured.

“Thanks,” you say.

She shifts, looking down the hall instead of at you, suddenly. Lin’s not great with emotions; it’s where you get it from.

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll see you for winter break? If not before?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah. Definitely by then.”

She nods, tells you goodbye, and heads down the hallway. You hear the front door close, and you’re alone with your boxes. That’s about as mushy as it gets with Lin.

[11:44 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: what time tmrw?

[11:45 PM] You: you drive the car, you tell me

[11:51 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: 10?

[11:54 PM] You: you think that’s enough time to pack up the car and drive there before lunch?

[11:58 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: 🙄 this is why i asked YOU what time

[12:01 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: 😤

[12:02 AM] You: 9:30

[12:03 AM] You: and bring me iced coffee 🤗 plsssss???

[12:06 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

[12:08 AM] You: love u tete

[12:11 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: yeah yeah love you too

You press the top of your phone into your forehead, closing your eyes. Letting yourself pretend, for just a second, that he could mean it the way you do.

Saturday August 29

Taehyung shows up in the morning - at ten, not nine-thirty, but he has an iced coffee for you in his car, so you let him live.

It takes you over an hour to load up the car, the boxes and suitcases and garbage bags squished together, shoved impossibly tight, the world’s most desperate game of tetris. Taehyung declares it impossible no less than five times, bemoaning that he’ll have to make the hour drive a second time in order to fit all of your shit.

In the end, you make it happen. It just takes a little determination.

The drive to your university is around an hour, depending on traffic. You and Taehyung both don big, goofy aviators and blast music as you sail down the highway, the backseat loaded floor to ceiling. The car is so stuffed, you even have boxes between your feet and on your lap.

The sun shines brightly down on you as you and Taehyung sing and groove your way through the drive, and you feel… so content, so sure that this is right, that you’re meant to be next to him, like this, forever. Like everything in the universe just clicked together to give you the perfect snapshot of how things are meant to be.

What if you said it? What if you told him?

Sometimes, moments like now, you just can’t fathom how he doesn’t feel it too.

But you know better. You know he doesn’t - doesn’t want to. Something deep inside you tells you to tread carefully with this best friend of yours. Something instinctual tells you that the dysfunctional friendship you’ve crafted together is a Jenga tower and if you so much as nudge the wrong brick, it’s all coming down.

You eat lunch at a table out in front of a cafe, people watching and basking in the sunlight. It’s the last, trickling days of August, but today’s breezy and cooler. It’ll warm up again before fall comes in full force, you’re sure, but you appreciate the reprieve from the scorching heat, since you’re about to spend several hours hauling boxes up a stairwell.

After lunch, Taehyung drives to your new neighborhood and finds a street-parking spot close to the front entrance of the tall, brick building.

“Okay,” he says. “Now the fun part.”

You giggle. “Have I told you yet that I appreciate you?”

“Elaborate, please,” he says, which is so typical for him. He looks over at you, sunglasses low on his nose.

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I appreciate you helping me move in. I appreciate you driving me. I appreciate the afternoon you’re about to spend carrying boxes and shit.”

“You’re forgetting something,” he tells you sagely.

You want to whack him in the belly for being so obnoxious, but you can’t risk him dumping all your stuff on the sidewalk and fucking off to let you deal with the stairs on your own.

“I appreciate you finding me a roommate so I don’t have to sleep on your couch,” you add.

“There we go.” Satisfied, he unbuckles, and you both get out and examine the backseat for whichever Tetris piece seems like it could be removed easiest. Arms full of boxes, you make your way up the steps to the little lobby that houses a wall of mail slots, and then up a second set of stairs to your second-floor apartment.

You set down the box you were carrying and dig out the key, opening the door to your new home.

You really do love this apartment. Through the open space - past the kitchen and through the living room - sunlight streams in through the large front windows that overlook the city block below. You can already see in your mind where you’ll put plants on low tables, or hanging from the ceiling.

You had done the big stuff days ago, with both Lin and Taehyung’s help; Lin had rented a little moving van and you’d loaded up the big furniture. From Lin’s house, you’d taken your bedframe and boxspring, leaving just the mattress in your old bedroom at Lin’s house. You’d also loaded up your low dresser, a nightstand, and two bookshelves. You’d gotten a few pieces from a local repurposing store - a desk to work at and a little swiveling chair to go with it. Your final splurge was an expensive mattress; the one in the store had felt like damn clouds. It was set to be delivered sometime this afternoon.

You’re already looking forward to going to sleep later.

You and Taehyung try to just put boxes where they’re meant to go. Two boxes end up in your bathroom, another two in the kitchen. You split the books between your bedroom and the living room, where a lone bookshelf is the only current piece of furniture. You heave bags of clothes and linens into your closet, determined to deal with them later.

The mattress delivery goes smoothly, the truck arriving as you and Taehyung are about halfway done unloading the car. You leave the building’s front door and your apartment door propped open and both teams do their thing: the delivery guys carrying the mattress up the steps, you and Taehyung behind them with garbage bags full of your clothes or boxes of books.

“You,” Taehyung pants, “have way too much stuff.”

You grin sheepishly, as in the other room your new mattress is removed from its plastic wrap and placed atop your awaiting boxspring. You’re itching to dig out your linens and make the bed; that’s always what makes a room feel ready to you, even back when you were just setting up a little dorm. Once the bed was made, everything else slowly fell into place.

Once the delivery truck rolls away, you throw yourself bodily onto the mattress, letting out a series of happy groans as you let the pillowy goodness envelop you.

“Taehyung,” you call tantalizingly. “Come feel it.”

You hear him drop a box in the living room with an audible oof - it must have been more books - and then he comes into your new bedroom and flops sideways across the bed next to you, the mattress jumping and settling again under his weight.

“Wow,” he says, rolling on his back and then turning to look at you, his legs bending to touch the floor. “This is nice. Let’s trade, I’ll bring mine over.”

“Nope,” you say, smiling. “I bought this one with my hard-earned summer money. It’s just for me.”

“Yeah,” he says, voice wry, “for you and your guests.”

Now you do whack him in the belly. He grunts, hands covering the spot, then lays still again.

“That wasn’t nice,” he comments mildly. “No hitting.”

“What guests?” you pout. “I haven’t had a guest since–”

“Ah, spare me the Great Drought of 2022 story,” he begs. He sits up, reaching into his pocket. As his hand retracts, you realize his phone is buzzing with an incoming call.

“Bro,” he says as a greeting, and then listens. “Yeah, we’re here now. That’s fine. Sounds good. Okay.”

He taps to hang up and looks at you. “Namjoon is almost here. That’s fine, right?”

“I was right here,” you huff. “Yes, it’s fine, but you literally could have asked me.”

Taehyung ignores you. “There’s one more box. I’ll go get it, and then I’ll stay while you meet with Joon, and then I’m gonna go, okay?”

“Oh,” you say, heart sinking a little bit. You’d kind of hoped he’d stick around, just hang out and goof off while you unpacked boxes and organized your stuff. “Sure.”

He reads you like a book; he always does.

“Don’t pout,” he says, and there’s something apologetic in his tone. “I just have to do some stuff today. And I really need to shower, this got me all sweaty.”

Well, you don’t need that mental image. Luckily, you’re saved from yourself by a knock at the front door. This strikes you as so polite, because not only is Namjoon going to literally live here, but also because the door is still propped wide open.

You sit up, fixing your hair from where you laid on it. Taehyung has already made his way through the living room and is giving a one-handed bro-hug to the guy at the door. You make your way over, heart thumping.

You notice a few things right away. He’s tall - taller than Taehyung, and you don’t see that often. His eyes are absolutely striking - there’s sharpness to them, something that makes you want to see the world how he does, something that makes you want to keep looking, something that makes you curious about how he’d see you.

When he smiles, each cheek dimples, the perfect size for the pad of your index finger. He’s all in browns except for a pair of light-wash jeans. He’s got a dark brown beanie tugged low on his head, and even his thin, wire-frame glasses seem to be chosen for the vibe above all else.

“Hi,” you say, sounding a little shy even to your own ears. Taehyung moves out of the way and you reach to shake Namjoon’s hand. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. Taehyung promised me you’re normal.”

The guy lets out one big laugh, surprised. “He told me the same,” he says conspiratorially, “but really, that’s such a subjective thing.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, and you step back to let Namjoon in, preparing to show him around.

“Kitchen and living room are here,” you say unnecessarily, since he can see for himself. “Your bedroom would be on this side.” You push open the door and Namjoon sticks his head in. The room is completely bare, the empty closet door standing open.

“You get your own bathroom,” Taehyung points out. Namjoon nods appreciatively, still looking silently back and forth across the room that would be his as soon as you pass him a key.

“Is it okay?” you ask, suddenly feeling nervous. If this guy backs out, you’ll be back at square one, and now with less time to solve the problem.

“Oh,” he says, as if remembering he should communicate. “Yeah! It’s great.” He turns and peers at the living room, which is empty but for your lone bookshelf and several boxes of books, unopened.

“I have some stuff we can put here, if you want?” he asks, his tone a little uncertain. “Specifically, I have a couch and coffee table, plus a TV and a console to put it on. It should all fit.”

“That would be great,” you say enthusiastically. “I was already stressing out about saving up enough for a couch.”

He nods easily, looking around the room thoughtfully. Taehyung has wandered over to the large windows and is looking up at the tree that stands right outside, the branches waving lightly in the afternoon breeze. With the sunlight coming in, he looks like a painting.

“I have a rug, too,” Namjoon muses. “Would you be interested in that?”

“Definitely,” you tell him, tearing your eyes away from Taehyung’s back. There’s something knowing in Namjoon’s face as he watches you, and you flush, feeling weirdly caught.

“Okay,” he says, “I’ll bring it. What about kitchen stuff?”

“I don’t have a ton,” you admit, pointing to the two boxes - not very big ones - that you’ve left on the kitchen counter. “If you’ve got more, that’s probably good. I don’t cook that often, to be honest. I’m not very good at it.”

Namjoon smiles at you, leaning over a little like he’s letting you in on a secret. “I can barely boil water,” he admits. “So you’re all good.”

You stand together as you discuss how you’ll be splitting the monthly costs for the utilities, not to mention the high-speed wifi that’s getting set up in two days. That leaves you to work out the rent, what day it’s due and how you want to handle paying it. In the end, you decide that he’ll electronically pay you, and you’ll pay the landlord, since it’s your name on the lease. He pays you right there on the spot, and you pass him the key that was meant for Penny.

“Is it okay if I start moving my things tomorrow?” he asks you.

You shrug. “This place is yours now, too,” you say easily. “You can honestly do what you want.”

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll probably start in the morning then?”

“I can’t promise I’ll be up,” you laugh, “but don’t let that stop you!”

“Should we…” he pauses, adjusts his glasses. “Should we exchange numbers?”

Taehyung makes a face you know well; it’s the face he makes when he wants to laugh or make fun of something, and he’s doing the Good Person Thing by keeping the thought to himself, but he wants to make sure you know by his face that he is holding it in. He wants credit for doing the Good Person Thing.

You honestly hate him sometimes. It’s the only thing keeping you from tipping straight into insanity. Sometimes, I really hate Taehyung.

“Yes, we probably should,” you say, because someone in this room needs to act like they aren’t twelve years old, and it’s not going to be Kim Taehyung, apparently.

You do, and then Namjoon tells you both goodbye, making his way back out to the hallway and down the steps. You can hear his footsteps fall away into nothing.

Taehyung looks at you, smiles angelically. “See?” he says. “I told you he was nice.”

He reaches for his keys on your kitchen counter. You frown, detecting his imminent departure.

“Will you come over tomorrow?” you ask, a little pitifully.

He considers this, and nods. “For dinner?” he suggests.

“Yeah,” you say. “We still won’t have wifi yet. We’ll be bored.”

“Only boring people get bored,” Taehyung says sagely, holding up one finger like a wizened philosopher. Then he comes to hug you goodbye, pulling you into a sweet embrace. You want to live there, in the spot between his arms.

Once he’s gone, you look around your new home. Alone, you decide to put on music and start tackling boxes. You start in the bathroom, finding towels so you’ll be able to shower in the morning, unpacking all your toiletries, setting up your toothbrush just so. You do the kitchen second; the sun sets outside as you find places for your battered pots and pans.

You stop for dinner, getting take-out from a place nearby that delivers. Then you dive back in, setting up your bedroom. It feels cozy already, once the bed is made and you’ve plugged in your little lamps. Calmer, you start folding clothes to put into dresser drawers. At one point you wander out of your room to get some water and you freeze in your bedroom doorway, struck by how lonely it feels.

The rest of the apartment is lit only by the yellow glow coming from your bedroom, plus the thin, white light that filters in from the streetlight below the living room windows. You hurry into the kitchen and turn on the light over the sink, which vanishes some of the bad feeling for you. You pour your glass of water and lean heavily on the counter, looking out at your empty living room, and the dark doorway of Namjoon’s untouched room. You wish Taehyung had come back over, or that some of your university friends had moved back into the area sooner.

You rinse your glass and head back into your room, ready to distract yourself with more unpacking until you’re tired enough to sleep.

Sunday August 30

Bumps and crashes wake you in the morning. It takes you a few minutes to figure out where you are - ah, the cloud bed, in your new room. The morning sunlight is strong; apparently the windows on the front of the apartment face the east. You make a mental note to shop for some good blackout curtains, and check your phone. Not much waiting for you - Lin texted around 1 am asking if you got settled okay, probably while she was on a quick break. You answer her, check your socials, and then lay back, just looking around.

You got a lot done yesterday, but you still have more unpacking to do. It also occurs to you that not only is there no coffee waiting for you in the kitchen, there’s no food of any kind in the whole place, unless you count your container of leftover takeout from last night.

You shower and get dressed, figuring it's best to stay out of the way - you can hear the grunts and huffs and loud bumps that indicate Namjoon’s got some friends helping him move things in. But eventually, the growling in your stomach and your body’s clamoring for caffeine send you out into the living room.

The low entertainment center is in place across the room from you, a flatscreen tv situated on top. There are now two stools tucked beneath the breakfast bar in the kitchen, and a pretty, wooden coffee table sits in the center of the living room.

There’s a guy on the floor surrounded by furniture pieces, a screwdriver, and a packet of instructions in his hands. You can hear a lot of shouting, bumping, and cursing floating in from the stairwell down the hall.

“Hey,” the guy on the floor says. “You’re Y/N? I’m Namjoon’s friend, Yoongi.”

“Hi,” you say, a little bewildered. “What are you… building?”

He sighs, squinting at the paper in his hand. “It’s supposed to be a bookshelf. Eventually.”

You’re about to respond to this when the noise from outside the open door gets infinitely louder. You see Namjoon’s expansive back as he shuffles backwards through the doorway, one end of a faded, grey couch in his hands.

“Okay, you have to turn,” he coaches whoever is on the other side.

The couch makes it through the door, and you’re surprised to see that you know the other person carrying the couch. He’s one of Taehyung’s best friends, and you’ve hung out together as a group plenty of times over the last three years.

“JayKay!” you call happily. “Welcome to my house!”

He laughs, nose scrunching with delight. “Y/N,” he crows. “Where should I put the couch?”

“Across from the tv,” Namjoon answers for you, sounding a little breathless. They shuffle through the room, and you notice for the first time that they’ve already put the rug in place, covering most of the warped, wooden floor of the living room. The couch settles over top of it, and Namjoon slides the coffee table to a more centered position.

One more guy comes through your doorway, carrying a nightstand and a lamp. He’s got quite possibly the widest shoulders you’ve ever seen. He disappears into Namjoon’s bedroom, and you hear the quiet thump as he sets the nightstand down in there.

“Wow,” you say. “You’ve got a whole moving crew.”

“Notice who’s not here helping,” Jungkook grumbles.

You smile to yourself. If you know him at all, you’ll guess Taehyung isn’t even out of bed yet.

“In his defense,” you say, and Jungkook snorts, as if it’s so typical that you’d defend Taehyung, which… it might be, “he did a lot for me yesterday. We had his car packed with my stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook mutters and turns to - presumably - get more stuff from downstairs.

“You have a lot left?” you ask Namjoon, who seems to be catching his breath for a minute, perched on the arm of the couch. “I’d offer to help, but I was just about to go get groceries - there’s very literally no food here.”

“We’re about done with the heavier stuff,” he says, looking at the open door, like he’ll find an inventory there that he can reference. “But still plenty of assembling left.”

“Hooray,” Yoongi deadpans from the floor, holding the instruction packet up in the air like a different angle will help him decipher the directions.

You find your little foldable cart and make your way to the grocery store a few blocks away. By the time you’re done scouring the aisles, you’ve loaded the cart to the top and still have to carry some of the bags. But at least now you’ll have food to eat, things to drink besides tap water.

Getting up the stairs with your groceries sucks, but you make it, panting like crazy as you finally unlock the front door and let yourself in.

You’re greeted with silence; it’s clear the guys are all gone. The living room looks completely different than twenty-four hours ago. The couch and table look great, and it seems like Yoongi’s bookshelf is mostly complete - it’s upright, just missing a few shelves near the top. You set the groceries down in the kitchen next to three unopened boxes - it seems like Namjoon’s gameplan was the same as yours yesterday: get the boxes into the appropriate rooms, do the rest later.

You peek into his bedroom - he’s left the door all the way open, which feels nice, like he trusts you, and you make a mental note that you should probably do the same. You notice that it looks like the furniture is all in place there, too. It doesn’t differ much from yours, actually. The bedframe is put together, the boxspring and mattress leaning against the far wall. He’s also got a tall chest of drawers, a wicker hamper, and in the corner, a desk. Namjoon’s furniture is a lot more modern looking than yours, sleek and matching. You bet he didn’t get half of his from the thrift store.

You put the groceries away and make yourself a small lunch, eating it on the couch in the quiet of the apartment. You’ve got about twenty-four hours to go until there’s wifi and you can stream shows when you’re home alone. You’re just cleaning up your lunch when you hear a key in the lock, and then the cacophony of boys’ voices as they reenter the apartment.

“-far superior, I’m telling you,” Jungkook is saying emphatically. The smell of greasy burgers and fries hits you in the kitchen along with the sound of his voice.

“I hear what you’re saying, and I respect your opinion,” a flat voice responds that you think might belong to Yoongi. “It’s just that you’re wrong.”

“Hey,” Namjoon says, noticing you standing in the kitchen. The guys pass through, heading into the living room, Jungkook already digging in the bag. They surround the coffee table, handing out burgers and fries, filling the room with delicious smells and noisy chatter.

You take this opportunity to head back into your room, sitting on your bedroom floor and opening one of your boxes of books, starting to put them on the small shelf beneath your window. You pop in your airpods and turn on music, losing yourself in the monotonous movement of digging out a new book, then turning to place it on the shelf. Rinse, and repeat.

When you finish, you move into your closet. You put your little wire shoe rack back together and locate your box of shoes, lining them up neatly. Then, you tackle another garbage bag full of clothes that go on hangers, flapping each shirt or dress to relieve it of wrinkles before hanging it up. After that, you find a box of miscellaneous dresser items - jewelry boxes, perfume bottles, headbands - and put those where you want them, too.

By the time you decide you need to sit down and take a break, it’s nearly evening, the light outside reaching that golden hour. You really do love the natural lighting in this place.

You take out your airpods and set them to charge, listening carefully. You’ve had your bedroom door open this whole time, but the guys had left you alone and you’d minded your own business. Now, the apartment is filled with silence again. They must be gone.

You text Taehyung for the first time that day, which strikes you as weird. He must have been busy today, too. It’s odd for you two to make it until almost dinner without speaking.

“Dinner?” you text, and then wander out into the living room.

“Hey,” a voice says from near the floor, and you practically leap out of your skin. You startle so violently that your phone slips from your hands and clatters to the floor.

“Holy crap,” you breathe when you realize Namjoon is sitting on the floor next to his newly assembled bookshelf, an open box of books before him. He seems to be sorting them into piles before putting any on the shelf.

“Sorry,” he says, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to--”

“No, you’re fine,” you assure him. “I’m just… a jumpy person. You’ll get used to it.”

You watch him sort books for a minute, then eye your own empty bookshelf, your boxes still closed on the ground next to it. You decide if it’s Bookshelf Hours, you might as well, right? You set your phone on the coffee table and settle in, opening your first box and starting to place books on the bottommost shelf.

“So,” you say, because it feels weird to be sitting four feet from your new roommate and not speaking, “Taehyung said you’re a grad student at the university?”

Namjoon nods wordlessly, eyes on the books he’s sorting. “Yep,” he says finally. “And you’re a senior?”

“Mhm,” you confirm.

After that scintillating conversation, you both lapse into silence as you work. You continue like that for some time - long enough to reach the middle shelf - before you realize you hear your phone buzzing on the table. You stretch to reach for it, missing how Namjoon glances sideways at you, at how an inch of your stomach is revealed as you lean over.

“Hi,” you say, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Took you long enough to answer,” Taehyung gripes.

“Sorry,” you say. “We were putting books away.”

Taehyung’s silence is just one beat too long. “We, huh?”

You laugh, once. “I mean? That’s what each of us is doing? So? Yeah?” From his spot a few feet away, Namjoon glances over his shoulder, frowning slightly.

“Anyway,” you say, “dinner? Do you want to come over?”

“Yes,” he says decisively. “Order us something and I’ll head over?”

“Sure,” you say, already hanging up. You don’t need to ask what he wants; no matter where you order from, you know what he likes.

“Do you want to order with us?” you ask Namjoon mildly as you scroll through the local delivery app. “I was thinking pizza.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says slowly, like he was deep in thought and has to process what you’d said to him. “That would be nice. Thanks.”

The place you’d order from back when you lived in the dorms is actually closer to this apartment than campus, which is the most beautiful, serendipitous thing that’s ever happened in your life. You place the order for delivery and continue putting your books away. Once all the books are on shelves, you’re essentially done - finally, after two days - unpacking.

This gives you exactly one whole day to relax before you have to start going to classes again.

Taehyung arrives before the pizza, knocking on the door in a silly rhythm. You pound back on your side of the door, echoing his rhythm, before opening it, greeting him with a big smile. You’d missed him; of course you had.

“Wow,” he says, genuinely impressed, as he peers around you. “It looks so much different in here.”

“Right?” you ask, filled with joy. Taehyung pokes his head into the kitchen, which is arguably the least “ready” room, as aside from putting your things into drawers and cupboards, neither you nor Namjoon had really done much to it. No hand-towels hanging by the sink, no magnets on the fridge, even the counters were empty, save for the two sets of keys resting there. Taehyung adds his own to the key pile and moves into the living room, which is much more impressive.

“Hey, man,” Namjoon says from the floor. It seems like he’s done sorting his books into piles and has started actually putting them on shelves now. “Looks good, right?”

“It does,” Taehyung answers from the doorway of Namjoon’s room, where he's peeking nosily. “The guys helped you?”

“Everyone except you and Jimin,” Namjoon says innocently.

Taehyung smiles guiltily. “I helped Y/N the entire day before, just the two of us,” he argues. “And what about Hobi? He’s on--”

“--on vacation with his parents,” Namjoon finishes agreeably, “so he’s off the hook. Where was Jimin?”

“Where do you think Jimin was?” Taehyung scoffs, reaching down and touching the rug absently.

“Sleeping,” you and Namjoon say at the same time, both of your voices wry. You smile at him, and he looks away.

The pizza arrives and you all sit around the coffee table to eat. Conversation flows better with Taehyung in the mix; he talks so much, it almost doesn’t matter if anyone else does.

“I was thinking of making a list of things we need for the apartment that wouldn’t necessarily belong to either of us - cleaning supplies, stuff like that,” Namjoon says to you. “I thought I could buy it and we could split the cost?”

“Buy the cheap stuff,” Taehyung advises. “Y/N’s summer money is gonna go fast, especially the way she orders out instead of cooking.”

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you say flatly, shooting him a look. “I start work in like two days. I can handle it.”

After the pizza’s done, Namjoon goes back to working on his bookshelf, obviously wanting to clear the floorspace of his book piles sooner rather than later. You and Taehyung sprawl across the couch opposite each other, his feet resting near your elbow, both of you on your phones.

You stay like that until nearly midnight, talking occasionally but mostly just happily coexisting in your own little bubbles. At some point, Namjoon finishes the bookshelf and wanders into his bedroom, pausing to look at you two on the couch before disappearing. He pushes his door almost shut, leaving it open a few inches. You hear the subtle sounds of music playing from behind the door, but not loud enough to discern what it is.

Taehyung hugs you before leaving, and you snuggle into the embrace, body exhausted from the moving process. He rests his chin on top of your head, swaying you around a little bit.

“Thanks for helping me,” you murmur into his chest. Sometimes the only time you can get Taehyung to be serious for a conversation is when you’re like this; in each other’s arms, your walls come down - in his case, deflecting with humor and sarcasm, brushing off everything like it’s a big joke. In yours, saying what you really mean, and not a more delicate version of it.

“You’re welcome,” he answers, squeezing you a little. “I’m glad everything worked out. It really does look good in here. And I think you guys will get along.”

Once he leaves, you deadbolt the front door and head to the kitchen to wash the plates and cups you’d used for pizza. Behind you, you hear the squeak of door hinges, and Namjoon pads into the kitchen behind you. He pauses, scanning the cupboards.

“I don’t remember which one I put my cups in,” he laughs a little, and then starts opening each one until he finds what he needs. Once he has a glass, he rummages in the fridge, taking out a juice carton and filling his glass about halfway. You finish washing the last plate and turn the water off, rummaging through a drawer for a dish towel to dry everything.

“So…” Namjoon says between sips of juice. “You two are pretty close, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say, shrugging easily. “He’s my best friend.”

Namjoon hums, nods, purses his lips thoughtfully. If you knew him better, you’d push - ask him what that face means, or why he’d asked in the first place.

But, you don’t need to. You know already. You’re used to being interrogated by others about your relationship with Taehyung. Sometimes people are trying to see if you’re a threat in their quest to worm their way into Taehyung’s heart (or pants) - and in your own weird way, you kind of are, at least for the former.

Taehyung definitely sleeps around, but he’s surprisingly tight-lipped with you about it. You’re not sure if he’s sparing you, or he’s actually just a gentleman. Could go either way. But when Taehyung considers dating someone - rare, to say the least - he always has you vet them first. You never like any of them, surprise surprise.

You’re used to girls approaching you in bathrooms, sometimes aggressively, sometimes meekly, to ask if Taehyung’s your boyfriend. You’ve had girls come apologize, saying they “didn’t know about you”. Once you’d had a girl nearly shove you down a staircase for talking to “her man”, but luckily, said man was walking next to you and helped shut the whole thing down. (You two had had a serious talk after that one about communicating with his partners about his relationship status. Things have never gone that far again, to date.)

Less frequently, you’ll get asked about Taehyung by guys who are interested in you, who are trying to figure out how much of a lost cause it is. That one’s a little trickier. How do you tell the cute guy at the coffee shop that no, you’re not dating Taehyung, but you are secretly so in love with him that it really isn’t worth their time?

Anyway, usually you just tell guys that you’re not dating Taehyung but that you’re not interested in dating anyone. It usually does the trick. It’s not that far from the truth, either.

That leaves the last category of people who ask about you two, and this is where you feel Namjoon falls: the people who watch your weird, boundary-pushing friendship and are just genuinely curious how it could possibly work.

And you get it, you really do. You know how this looks from the outside. Hell, you’re sure that from the outside it’s fairly obvious how gone you are for him. Is it just as obvious to the outside that he sees you more like a sister than anything datable?

Probably.

You’ve had friends ask you what keeps you around. You always say the same thing - regardless of your feelings for him, he’s also your absolute best friend.

Your friendship is precious to you, sacred. It sometimes feels like the only thing you have, in a life where you generally don’t have much. Your family is Lin - that’s it, end of the road. Your girlfriends are nice, but Penny was the closest you had and she’s across the country now. You only have Taehyung. And what you have with him, as special as it is, it’s also precarious.

If you lose him, it isn’t just that you’ll lose him - and trust, that would be devastating - it’s also that you would be deeply alone.

Finished with the dishes, you bid Namjoon goodnight and head back into your room for the night, planning to change into pajamas and wait for Taehyung to text you that he made it home safely, wait for Taehyung to text you goodnight. Namjoon murmurs goodnight, but you feel his calculating gaze on your back until you close your door softly behind you.

Next ->

Thank you so much for reading! I started writing this in August, it feels amazing to finally postttttt. Please consider some type of feedback - I'd love to hear anything you want to share! Section II will post on Friday, January 27th - hope to see you there!

#lillia recs #bwcbookclub #mutuals

340 notes · View notes

haegeumi · 1 year ago

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*distant screaming* WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEEE WHAT THE FUCKKKKK

i am actually going so insane rn. wow. give me a minute i need to use my inhaler...okay, let's get into this

i will never not be a sucker for a fwb trope with secret Feelings,, and now add jealous soob on top of that sol are u Kidding Me. jealous ROCKSTAR soob at that 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 that is absolutely EVERYTHING to me wtf?$&*@?$?#*

What kind of a self-destructive freak agrees to be friends with benefits with someone they had feelings for? A self-destructive freak like you apparently — i burst out laughing at this SJJAF ur humor will always be unmatched, u weave such funny lines so seamlessly into ur writing i love it sm

ok now lemme talk about the smut. PHEWWW that had me reeling 🫠 now who said that soob can't be a mean dom???? (me. i have said that before. i was wrong. so wrong....) ;;;; the way he stops fucking mc to eat her out and tease her oh. i am so normal abt that what the fuck 🤣🤣 (my hand is in my hands how do u think of these things i want to kiss u so bad rn),, he knows just how to break her down to a begging mess, i'm in love with their dynamic bc you can tell that they're friends beneath it all, mc isn't afraid to tell him like it is and i love that for her

“Others will see them?” — “So what? Let them see. That way they know what happens when we’re alone.” — “Want everyone to know you’re mine,” — “And that I’m all yours. Don’t want anyone else to touch you.” ;;;;;;; DO U HEAR ME SCREAMING RN?$,*@?$?$,, do u hear me fucking screaming?????? idk why but the possessiveness is getting to me, is it hot in here or is just me?? also he is such a dick for leading into his confession like this and j like,, overall how he treated her but at least he's self aware <3

ANYWAYS i'm collapsed on the floor tearing at my hair screaming crying gnawing on my leg like a feral dog after reading this,,, i hope you're happy bc if end up at the hospital i'm making u foot the bill /j ;; thank u for whipping up such a delicious fic for us, u never dissapoint i stg 🫶🫶🫶

(Un)Professional

♫: te pongo mal, Kali Uchis

“When Soobin struck up the proposition to be friends with benefits, he did it under the guise of remaining single and focusing on his music, adamant on keeping things “professional”— god forbid anyone else tries to get with you though, because maybe he didn’t really mean it when he told you no strings attached.”

Soobin x fem!reader

Genre: fwb to ???, pwp, kinda angst, smut, rockstar!au

Word count: 4.5K

warnings: soobin is actually kinda mean and toxic but they have their little redemption arc idk TT… barely edited sorry

smut warnings: mean/hard dom! soobin, sub!mc, mc is kinda bratty, so also brat tamer soobin hehe, rough sex, unprotected sex, pet names, (pretty, baby, etc.) possessiveness, jealousy, degrading, thigh riding, dry humping, breast play, edging, marking, biting, oral (f. rec.), fingering, dacryphilia, hair pulling, dumbification, creampie (lmk if i should add anything!)

Notes: this is a mini series that was made simply because i am an indecisive loser. don’t ask why i was listening to reggaeton for a rockstar au, it just happened 😭 also i wrote all these parts after midnight bc that’s the only time i was able to write i guess— in other words… don’t expect too much from this.

Soobin doesn’t do relationships.

There’s no room for something as fragile as that in his life, at least not when he’s traveling to a new state every day for his tours— the last thing Soobin would ever do is fuck up what he already has just for something as fickle as love.

However, he is a man with needs— needs that are gladly fulfilled by you, his pretty best friend that always travels with them.

He’s known you long enough to have struck up this arrangement confidently; knowing there would be no strings attached, not able to form any feelings for someone he’s been content being just friends with for— well, forever.

So this— his pounding heart, his brows that furrow together with frustration, his hands that grip his microphone a little tighter— is definitely new.

There is no logical reason as to why he should be feeling like this; there’s no logical explanation as to why it’s been such an eyesore to watch Yeonjun interact with you the whole night, watching the way the man not so subtly sends winks and coy smiles in your direction, Soobin’s lips being bitten at as he watches the way you merely smile cutely in response.

You don’t even act this way with him; every time you’ve come to their shows, you’ve always made it a point to act normal whenever Soobin comes around— just enough excitement to make you seem like a fan, but not enough to make it seem like you know him— you’ve learned this the hard way.

“Tone it down a bit next time, yeah?” Soobin told you once, as you laid in his hotel bed and surfed through the tv channels with droopy eyes, “If we’re gonna keep doing this, we should be professional about it.”

His words garnered a massive roll of your eyes— what the fuck did he even mean by that? It’s a concert, of course you had to seem excited— but it seems as though you took his comment to heart, watching the way your excitement dies down the moment Soobin approaches your side.

No one’s watching you— no one cares about what faces you make or what you say when Soobin stands before you, but the thought of him telling you to keep it professional pisses you off so much that you decide to show him just how good of an actress you are; the difference of reactions is almost incredible, and you take in the way Soobin’s eyes narrow at the sight of you.

There’s no reason he should get mad— after all, there’s nothing between you.

Agreeing to this was a stupid idea. What kind of a self-destructive freak agrees to be friends with benefits with someone they had feelings for? A self-destructive freak like you apparently, because as you watch Soobin leave with one last glance at you, you can’t help but wish that he was just a bit mad.

The two of you distract yourselves in your own ways; Soobin tries not to visit your section for the rest of the night, and you try to get the attention of the rest of the members in response— and the boys, surprised to see your excited attitude when they come around, are more than happy to oblige— and if the fans noticed that Soobin seemed to be in a bad mood for part of the show, well, that’s on him.

You feel a bit more tired than usual by the time the concert ends— you’re not sure why, but you find yourself trudging backstage because of that; maybe you should just go to the hotel instead of congratulating the boys for their show like you usually do.

“Oh, hey ___!” Yeonjun spots you before you can turn on your heels and exit; you’re immediately putting on a bright smile as the said man throws an arm around you, still in his encore outfit as he drags you along the halls and undoubtedly to where the rest of the members are, “What’d you think of the concert? It was good huh?”

“As always,” you smile, nudging Yeonjun softly as he clearly waits for you to continue, “You were great out there, your energy was insane.”

“Why thank you,” he purrs, leaning in and watching as you scoff at him playfully, “Watching you enjoy yourself practically gave me all the energy I needed.”

You don’t find yourself surprised by his comment; Yeonjun is always like this, his flirty and suggestive behavior nothing out of the ordinary as you simply scold him to get out of your face— you’re so caught up in bickering with the man that you don’t notice the heated stare of another, brows twitching at the way you laugh and play along with Yeonjun.

After a moment though, you feel it— your head is turning before you can really process it, and you’re meeting eyes with Soobin, who looks… well, pissed off.

Before you can get a good look at his face, he’s standing abruptly; taking long strides to where you are, your heart beginning to pound at the sight of him slowing to a stop next to you.

“Meet me outside.” His voice is gruff and on edge as he whispers the words lowly to you, walking off without another word as you simply turn to watch— because of course he wouldn’t try to get Yeonjun off you or outwardly ask for your attention, choosing instead to relay you a quiet message before he’s off, regardless of the way everyone sends him a confused look as they watch him leave.

“He looks mad,” Yeonjun hums, watching as you shrug his arm off gently, “Gonna try to talk to him?”

You sigh, hoping he doesn’t see the way your hands grab at the hem of your shirt anxiously.

“Yeah,” you say, then you’re off, barely able to turn the corner once you’ve exited before you’re harshly pulled by none other than Soobin.

“Ow— what the fuck—!” Soobin’s hold on your wrist is bruising as he pushes you into the room next door, a changing room that’s not meant to hold multiple people as he simply locks the door behind him and pushes you against the wall; he doesn’t bother to turn on the lights as he approaches you— the light that comes through the frosted window on the door becomes the only thing that allows you to see Soobin’s frustrated expression.

“Had fun flirting with the others?” He asks, his lips so close that you’re able to feel the puff of his breath as he huffs in frustration— the room is so small as you press yourself against the wall, feeling as though Soobin is filling your senses and making you dizzy, “Was that your little way to try and get my attention? Because it fucking worked, you poor little thing.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” you hiss, pressing a hand against Soobin’s chest as you feel him try to swoop in to kiss you, his hands already sliding under the hem of your shirt to trace shapes along your skin, “I’m friends with the others too, you know.”

“Have you always been this friendly with them? Hmm?” he asks, slotting a knee between your legs as you’re left to look up at him speechlessly, “What, gonna try to fuck them next?”

“Dude, what’s your fucking problem!” you hiss, punctuating your words with a punch to his chest as you glare at him, not lost upon the fact that his thigh is pressed firmly against your cunt, your skirt fanning along his leg and hiding the way he’s flexing and pushing it against you.

“And if I wanted to, then what?” you ask, pretending as though you haven’t given in to the way Soobin’s hands are guiding your hips, making you grind against him as he feels the way you become wet by his actions, “What’ll you do, get jealous? Try to stop me? That wouldn’t be very professional of you— I might as well ask Yeonjun if he’s free after this.”

“Don’t get fucking smart with me,” He says, a hand coming up to grab your cheeks and tilt your head toward him, “I’m not letting any other bitch get with you, touching what’s mine.”

It’s just his arrogance and possessiveness talking again— at least that’s what you tell yourself, failing to hold back your weak whimper as you roll your hips against him, feeling him press against your hip and rut his hard cock against you slowly.

“I’m not fucking yours,” you grit out, your words muffled as you try to speak through the hold that Soobin still has on you, “The only reason why we’re still friends is so you can get a good fuck, don’t lie—”

Soobin is kissing you before you can finish your sentence— if he wasn’t angry before, he definitely was now, his teeth clashing against yours as he kisses you roughly and without control, a mess of spit as he bites down on your lip, drinking in your pained moan before he’s slipping his tongue in to get a taste.

He’s noticed the way your hips have begun to move erratically; your hands are gripping tightly at his shirt, probably stretching it out as you continue to moan into his mouth, a hand guiding your movements as he flexes and presses his thigh firmer against you, his free hand letting go of your face to slip under your shirt and get access to your breasts as he begins to roll and pinch your nipples between his fingers.

“Do you like it when I treat you like this?” he asks breathlessly, finally pulling away to watch the way a string of saliva continues to connect you— the sight is filthy and has your brows furrowing as you bite your swollen lips in hopes to muffle your sounds, “Like you’re nothing more than a fucktoy for me to use after my shows? A good little thing to take my stress out on?”

The pleasure is beginning to build up— there’s a tight knot in your stomach, making your brain go foggy as you feel the way your clit rubs against Soobin’s thigh every time you angle your hips a certain way, feeling as you soak your panties and his sweats the longer you rut against him.

Soobin simply watches you with a small smile; his eyes are lidded as he leans back, eyes glued to the way you roll your hips against him, weak whines becoming louder and more frantic as you begin to pull at his shirt with wide, teary eyes.

But before you can finally cum, he pulls away. You’re whining softly at the loss, hitting his chest petulantly as you curse at him under your breath— before you can land another hit, he grabs your wrists, freezing you entirely as he sends you a sly look, leaning in so he can whisper in your ear.

“You’ll let me fuck you, right? You can always go to someone else if you need to cum,” he says, waiting for your response as he begins to kiss and suck at the spot just under your ear, knowing how sensitive you are as he feels the way you attempt to curl into yourself.

“Fuck you,” you whine out, attempting to shake his hold off you, only to fail— he simply laughs softly, sinking his teeth into the marked flesh as he listens to the yelp you let out.

“I’m trying,” he huffs out, finally pulling away as he sends you a childish grin, “Now be good and turn around for me, okay sweet thing?”

The nickname catches you so off guard that you don’t protest the way Soobin turns you around without another word, your cheek pressed against the wall and your hands held behind your back as you continue to curse at him quietly— and judging by the way Soobin simply laughs softly, he’s definitely enjoying himself, shameless as ever as you listen to the sounds of shifting behind you.

You hope he doesn’t notice the way your breath hitches as you feel him push your panties aside, his tip brushing against your entrance— swiping at your leaking slit to gather your wetness, clearly teasing you as he takes in the way you try to push back against him, letting out a soft please as you feel his tip sink into you slightly, feeling the way you stretch around him before he’s pulling back out.

“Please? Why are you begging for me, baby?” he asks, slowly beginning to push in as he watches you rest your forehead against the wall, letting out a shaky sigh at the stretch, “I’m not here for you— you can go to another one of your toys if you’re looking for someone to worship you.”

You can’t bring yourself to say anything as you feel him bottom out inside you— no matter how many times you find yourself in this situation, you can never get used to it, the size of him enough to have your eyes rolling back as you feel his tip prod at your cervix, hips flush against your ass as he begins to grind softly into you.

It’s not enough— not for you, and certainly not for him, though he refuses to give you the pleasure of fucking you stupid so soon as he watches instead the way you begin to squirm, wanting more as you hang your head and try to fuck yourself against him— all attempts are quickly stopped as Soobin uses a hand to still your movement, firm on your waist and forcing you back against the wall as the other continues to bind your hands, pressing your fists against the small of your back and watching with a sly smile as you begin to arch in response.

“Why are you so quiet?” he asks softly, leaning in to trail kisses along your neck, continuing his slow and agonizing pace, “Usually you’re so loud I have to keep a hand on your mouth.”

You refuse to give into him— refuse to let him hear what he wants, ignoring the ache between your legs and the fire in your stomach that just begs to be put out— but the way you’re leaking around Soobin’s length and clenching around him is giving you away, and it’s enough to have you turning away from him in hopes that he won’t be able to read your expression.

This proves to be harder than you expected; Soobin’s hand has let go of your waist in favor to play with your clit, nimble fingers circling and pinching the bud as he begins to thrust shallowly, listening to the way you try to swallow your sounds and keep your eyes shut at the feeling— it isn’t long before he’s building you up again, taking in the way your legs shake and you begin to push back against him subconsciously, giving away just how needy you are as your fists tighten.

You’re close, so fucking close, maybe if you stay quiet Soobin won’t notice— but, for a man who insists you two aren’t anything, he’s eerily aware of the way your body gets when you’re about to cum— meaning, all his movement immediately stops the moment you’re about to tumble over the edge, bottoming out inside you and laughing mockingly as he listens to the broken sound you let out.

“Fuck, I’m so tired from today’s show,” Soobin groans, resting his forehead on your shoulder, beginning his slow, shallow thrusts again after a moment, “You don’t mind if I take it slow tonight, do you?”

You say nothing— you have yet to say anything that would irritate or please Soobin, and that in itself is enough to egg him on— because even if you refuse to talk, the way your body trembles from his touch and you bite your lips to suppress sounds is enough to tell him all he needs to know.

The way you clench around Soobin when he begins to play with your clit almost has him cumming— he has to concentrate on not doing so as he takes in the weak whine you let out, your previous orgasms being built up once more as you let out a shaky sigh, listening to the wet sounds that come from the way Soobin fucks you.

You’re trying so hard to remain neutral as he winds you up— but god, he knows you like the back of his hand, his hips rutting and rolling into you as he does everything to make you go insane, already feeling your high creep up on your from how up-tight your body is.

“Feels good?” He asks, using your hands as leverage as he pulls you back into him for a particularly harsh thrust— the suddenness of it has you moaning loudly, your lips immediately pressing together as you feel your face grow hot— Soobin’s cocky laugh is both annoying and hot and you hate yourself for feeling that way.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to say anything,” he grins, picking up his pace as he watches the way you begin to break, weak moans and whines leaving you from how harshly he thrusts his cock into you, “I’ll do all the work, just stand there and look pretty, okay?”

You can feel your high approaching— it’s intense and fast, and you’re barely able to process the way your mouth falls open as you begin to chase the feeling, ready to fall over the edge and cream all over Soobin’s cock when—-

Like an absolute jerk, he pulls out.

“You know what?” he says, talking more to himself than anything as he turns you back around and tucks himself back in, your back colliding with the wall behind you as your breath hitches, watching as he falls to his knees and sends you an innocent look, “I haven’t tasted you in so long, baby— fuck, I can’t help myself, I’ll be quick.”

Soobin is never like this— you’ve only ever experienced quickies backstage, so to say that you’re surprised to see the man dragging things out here is an understatement, letting out a shaky sigh as he throws your leg over his shoulder and scoots closer to you, burying himself under your skirt without hesitation.

You’re practically dripping on the floor— it’s even worse when his fingers begin to prod at your entrance, feeling the way your walls clench wildly at the feeling and your hips thrust toward the sensation; Soobin’s tongue licks at your clit teasingly, taking his time to trace circles around it as he finally sinks his fingers inside you, curling them and pressing against all your sensitive spots as he takes in the way you squirm above him.

Soobin’s face is practically suffocated by your cunt— you’re not sure how long he does this for, but he proceeds to bring you close to orgasm only to pull away a few more times, listening to the way you begin to cry and plead a bit more with each one.

At some point— your fifth ruined orgasm, you think you’ve lost count— you find yourself pulling at his hair and begging, the words stuttered out through hiccups as you feel hot tears stream down your cheeks, pleading Soobin to let you cum as you grind your pussy along his face, feeling his tongue dip to your entrance before he’s back to teasing your clit, laughing softly at the sound before he finally emerges from under your skirt— his face is shiny and flushed as he looks up at you, sending you a grin that only has you pouting even more.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, feigning concern as he begins to run his hands along your thighs, waiting patiently for you to respond as he begins trailing kisses up your legs, hearing your soft sniffles as he reaches your inner thighs, “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”

“Soobin,” you whine, shutting your eyes as you feel his swollen lips leave opened-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, already soaked with your arousal as he licks it up, only to begin biting and sucking at the area leisurely, “Soobin please—please let me cum, wanna cum so bad, please.”

The sound of your begging is welcomed to his ears— he looks up at you through his lashes, sparkling eyes a stark contrast to the filthy way he continues to mark your thighs, ignoring your soft whines that others will see them, please binnie…

“Others will see them?” he repeats, clenching his jaw at the way you nod frantically, a clear concern in your eyes— slowly, he stands, hooking your leg over his waist as he presses himself against you, hissing softly at the way you immediately soak through his sweats, “So what? Let them see. That way they know what happens when we’re alone.”

“But… we shouldn’t— you said we need to keep this hidden…” His words are nothing but confusing— you’re sure it reads on your face, because Soobin is aligning his cock with your entrance once more, chuckling softly at your expression before he shakes his head in exasperation.

“Did I? Well, I don’t wanna hide it anymore,” he says, eyes lidded and filled with need as he sinks himself slowly into you; your eyes are threatening to flutter shut at the sensation, only to be stopped at the feeling of Soobin cupping your chin, telling you softly look at me. before he finally bottoms out.

“Want everyone to know you’re mine,” he says, and you’re more than ready to respond with another mean comment before he continues, “And that I’m all yours. Don’t want anyone else to touch you.”

“W…what—?” your words are being cut short by the feeling of him fucking into you again, a hand coming up to grab his shoulder and your leg pulling him in closer in fear of having your orgasm ruined again— Soobin simply huffs, his hands going to hold onto your hips to fuck into you better, indulging in your fucked out face and dazed eyes as he smiles softly; slowly, he’s leaning in, lips brushing against yours as he speaks.

“‘m so fucking stupid for starting all this,” he laughs softly, holding back a moan at the way you clench around him, your nails digging into your shoulder slightly, “Told myself I’d never catch any feelings like this— fuck, look at me now…”

“Just wanna keep you for myself— maybe I’m being selfish but… fuck,” you think you’re getting the gist of what he means— your free hand comes up to tangle itself in his hair as you close the gap between the two of you, hoping that you’re not misinterpreting his words as you feel him fuck you faster, setting a rhythm that has your eyes rolling back and your mouth falling open, so wound up from tonight that you think your legs might give out any moment now.

“Soobin,” you whine out, pulling at his hair and shirt as you begin bucking your hips at him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock as you whine, “Please let me cum— please please please, need it so bad, just wanna cum, please?”

The way you’re whining and begging is more than enough to Soobin; he’s gripping your hips and fucking you harder, eyes widening slightly at the way your sounds increase in volume, too fucked dumb to even realize.

“Shit,” Soobin grits out, planting his hand on your mouth and telling you to quiet down, “You were really holding back, huh? There’s my girl, all loud and pretty for me.”

He’s cooing softly at the way tears well up in your eyes and spill promptly after; running over his skin, biting at his lip to suppress sounds of his own as he feels the way you become impossibly tight around him.

“You gonna cum? Pretty doll just wants to cream my cock, finally had enough of me using you, right?” The way you’re nodding mindlessly only spurs Soobin on, insanely turned on by the way you’ve become fucked stupid, “Come on baby, show me how good you feel, been waiting patiently to cum, such a perfect doll.”

He’s cooing softly and talking you through your orgasm— you don’t even realize that your legs have given out, and Soobin’s hands are flying to support you as he holds you up, pressing himself fully against you and grinding his hips into you as your head falls on his shoulder; your sounds are muffled by the fabric of his hoodie as you bury your head further into him, pressed entirely against the wall and left to Soobin’s mercy as you allow him to continue rutting into you slowly.

“Binnie,” you whine out, right next to his ears as you begin to speak quietly to him, “Want you to cum inside, fill me up please? Never wanted any other guys but you, just wanna feel you cum inside, please…”

Your soft pleas set Soobin off immediately— his hips are bucking into you so roughly that your body is jolting with every thrust, his head burying itself in your neck as he lets out a soft groan— you then feel the way he fills you up, warm cum staying inside from the way he continues to fuck you well after he’s calmed down, his shuddering breaths on your skin enough to know that how sensitive he is.

For a moment, you just stay there; pressed against the wall as Soobin slowly pulls his cock out of you, feeling the way his release begins to drip out from how much he filled you— your chest is heaving against his as you attempt to catch your breath, legs still weak as you take advantage of Soobin’s strength to help hold you up.

Soobin’s arms wrap around your waist; he’s pulling you in even closer, your bodies melting together as he nuzzles his head into your neck, inhaling slowly as your own hesitant hands come up to embrace Soobin.

“Sorry I was so horrible to you,” he says, littering kisses on the exposed skin of your neck before he continues, “But I did mean that whole thing about catching feelings— the timing’s horrible, I know— but….”

You hum softly, as though lost in thought, “How long have you felt like this?”

“I… this whole time,” he admits, his face growing hotter at the confession, “I was just in denial half the time we did this whole thing— god, why do you think I suggested it in the first place…?”

You hold back a laugh— Soobin however, is nervous at your lack of reaction, pulling away from his hiding place to analyze your expression.

“I’m sorry. Is this weird? I understand if you don’t feel the same way, I’m really sorry if you felt uncomfortable with anything I did today, I seriously don’t know what I was thinking—“

You’re cutting him off with a kiss— but it’s gentle this time, and you really take a moment to feel his soft lips as you feel him smile against you, his cheeks warm under your touch as you finally pull away.

“Soobin,” you say softly, smiling fondly at the way he lets out a soft hmm? in response, “I feel the same. But yeah, you were a fucking jerk with me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, cupping your face as he sports the look of a kicked puppy, eyes filled with nothing but guilt, “I’m sorry, I seriously never meant to go that far, I should’ve just asked you out like a normal person instead of being so mean.”

“I don’t know,” you say, pouting softly as his eyes widen softly, seemingly afraid of what you might say; you simply peck at his lips chastely, unable to hold back your laugh at his expression, “I kinda liked it.”

Your words are horribly confusing to Soobin— but hey, at least he knows how you feel.

#the way he so easily presses her against the wall and has his way with her aHAHA i'm SOOOO normal and ok rn 😀😀#😀😀😀😀😀😀 so normal #fucking hell #agust.nsfw #txt #soobin

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