#I wrote so much jhope prob cause it's his birthday??

[tae-nado]

BTS SCENARIO: Moaning their name in your sleep

Pairing: BTS x Reader

Genre: Fluff // Slight-Smut

Word Count: 6K+

Summary: The boys all have some kind of varying degree of love for you, so what happens when you murmur some pretty incriminating things in your sleep.

Kim Seokjin

Jin had let you stay the night after you’d come over for condolences. You’d broken up with another boyfriend at the four month marker, as if that was some kind of magical (or cursed) number. You had bemoaned to him the lack of love you felt, and he stored it away with the catalog of other reasons you’d given for past flames. Too distant, too clingy, too short, too something.

He couldn't help himself but to sigh, upset as he moved around your now resting body, sprawled against his couch. He quickly picked up a few discarded beer cans and discarded them, before throwing himself against the couch next to you. He glanced the digital clock on the far side of the wall and noted his brothers would probably be out for another hour or two. He should probably move you to his bed for now. No way were you going home in this state.

Jin moved his head to look at you, noting the way your hair caught against your lips and how you cutely swiped it away subconsciously, not before wrinkling your nose in annoyance. He couldn't help the way his eyes softened or the small chuckle he gave at your actions. He couldn't help it. Everything you did endeared him to you. The way you laughed, the way you fiddled with your hands nervously, or even something as trivial as how you ate, made his heart clench. His heart was clenching now too, at the frustration beginning to bubble within him at the circumstances. Another day, another ex, you really ran through them like water. He didn’t know if you had commitment issues or you were just picky. It made him second guess ever confessing to you, in fear he’d be just another one on a list. He should give you enough benefit, and trust that he was slightly more special than the average joe, but his doubts ran rampant. Besides, he was skimming over the very real chance that he might be all out rejected.

He surveyed your sleeping form once more, going to adjust your shirt, which had ridden up against your stomach. He had just lifted it to bring it down when your voice startled him.

“Jinnie.”

He all but held his breath, his hand snatched away in fear you’d woken to thinking he was doing something less than gentlemanly, but when he called your name and apologized he got no reply save the soft pattern of your breathing. He sat still for a long time, not coming to the realization you’d just said his name --nickname-- until you said it again.

“Ah~ Seokjin~”

At this point the cogs immediately started to move and Jin snapped up from the couch. He felt his face become hotter than it had in a very long time, his heart overclocking as you shifted slightly on the couch. He didn’t know how to react, and his brain was weighing if you should be woken up or if he should flee the building, but he lost the ability for cognizant thought once you really started to moan.

Jin wasn’t sure how long he stood there watching and listening to you. He felt like he was invading on something, but that was his name. His best friend. The girl he was in love with was moaning his name. A million and a half questions ran through his head. Was it just because you just thought he was attractive, or maybe you were just sexually frustrated? He wanted to know, he really wanted to know. And not only did his brain want to know, not only his heart, but by the way his cock started to inflate, his more primal side wanted an answer as well. Every moan and mention of his name was riling something he’d promised himself to put away a long time ago. He felt awful for multiple reasons. For listening in, for this going to haunt every night for the rest of his life, for you most likely using him in your dreams sexually just for kick. He hated it.

He’d had wet dreams about you, sure, but that was because he pined after you all this time and, in his dreams, every time you two would finish, he’d look in your beautiful eyes and whisper--

“I love you! Seokjin~”

He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until he felt himself open them, training his eyes to lock in on you, as you seemed to climax in some faraway dream. He couldn't breath or blink, not sparing you from his senses for even a moment. What was a boy supposed to do in a circumstance like this?

As whatever passion within seemed to subside, so did any noises coming from you, and you fell back into quiet breathing, the only difference with pre-wet dream being a soft smile resting on your pink lips. Jin licked his own.

Gulping, he moved away from the living room and into the attached kitchen. His cheeks still burning and the memory of your voice imprinted like a newly burned CD in his brain. He bent down and reached around randomly in a few drawers, purposefully causing a ruckus, to which he stilled when he heard a whine come from you. A tell tale sign you were waking.

“Jin?”

He heard his name called from back in the living room, softer and nowhere near as sexual. He reached a hand up to hold his heart. When he stood, he was going to do it. He was going to tell you how he felt, and he was going to pray he could hear those noises again.

Min Yoongi

You’d been with him in his studio, having brought him some take out upon your insistence. He knew you knew that if he didn’t get brought food in circumstances like this, he might very well go hungry.

The both of you had long consumed and discarded of the chicken’s carcass, and he had set back to work, adjusting some final production issues before Supreme Boi came and went over it with him tomorrow. The clock in the corner of his computer told Yoongi that it was well into the night, and he quickly glanced over his shoulder trying to spot you. Last time he checked on you (though admittedly that’d been about two hours ago) you’d been gently laughing at something on your phone, but now your phone lay on the precipice of the small couch, your head against the wall, and a small amount of drool threatening to go the way of gravity. Yoongi couldn't help the small scoff he gave. He glanced back to his computer for just a second, saving per his habit once more, and standing up.

The rapper reached up and turned down the AC of his room, knowing you were rather susceptible to the cold when you were asleep. He made his way over to you and resisted the urge to take a photo as he slipped your phone from your weak grip, eyeing a playlist of what seemed to be an abundance of vines that still played. He pressed the home button, noting fondly the homescreen image of you and him, a photo you’d forced him to take part of. He glanced back at you for just a moment, before quickly pulling up his own contact in his phone, forwarding himself a plethora of the photos he once declined when offered. He’d never admit it.

After deleting the evidence, he placed the phone to the side and worked on pushing you down to lay on your side. Your body quite easily acquiesced with the demand and fell gently to rest against the soft cushions. Yoongi briefly wondered if he should maybe trade the couch out for a futon just for you. You definitely spent enough time in this room to warrant one.

He brushed a hesitant hand against your bare arm, ignoring the shot of electricity that seemed to channel through him at the touch. After another secret moment of staring at your sleeping face, he stood to make his way back to his computer when a whimper from you had him stopping in his tracks. He glanced back down at you, raising an eyebrow when you whimpered once more. Were you having a bad dream?

Yoongi shrugged guessing he should probably just wake you up, and went to place a hand on your shoulder when he heard his name.

“Yoongi.”

He heard his name, but he certainly had never heard it like that before. He was taken aback, unsure if he was making the correct connections in his mind.

“Yes, Yoongi~”

Yoongi cursed under his breath, removing his hand from your shoulder as he felt a red hot rush of something begin to burn up his neck and his ears. There was just no way, no way.

But there you were, moaning and your face twisting in a way Yoongi never thought he’d have the pleasure to see. The room and he burned at one hundred degrees and he regretted turning down the A/C.

He could only watch you in shocked silence as you grew louder and louder and while he knew maybe he should wake you up and have you stop, he couldn't, he really didn’t want to. Maybe he was betraying something. Wet dreams happened with random people right? You’d been spending a lot of time with him recently. Your subconscious just probably latched on, but he was burning with lust, embarrassment and hope.

It was only when you said the next thing Yoongi actually smiled.

“Yoongi! I love you.”

His hand reached up and shook you awake, before you could grow louder. And you shot awake, sitting up from the couch and looking down at him, who had been crouched in front of you. You gave him a lazy smile, rubbing your eyes, and Yoongi couldn't help but think you looked like you were shining.

“Good morning, Yoongs,” your voice croaked and he wondered if you were even slightly aware what kind of voices you were making before. He looked down, and rubbed at his hair, trying to build his courage. He shook his head, his hand falling to his neck before he looked back up to you. You tilted your head.

The rapper opened his mouth, “I have a question.”

Jung Hoseok

Hoseok was good enough friends with you to earn a copy of your apartment key. He was allowed to pop in whenever he decided was okay. He’d come in before when you were showering, when you were cooking, when you were reading, whenever. You had assured him you’d go out to the way to let him know when he couldn't come over, so unless he received a blackout date, it was free reign.

So he came over quite a lot. He enjoyed being here. Though he had to dress to cover his identity, so that no tabloids got the wrong ideas, he made a concerted effort to come over when he came.

It was so warm at your house.

Whenever he had a bad day, sometimes he’d pop over to talk to you. It was seven out of ten times when you already had some kind of tea brewing, warm chamomile or jasmine. You two would talk about the problems he was experiencing over tea, or the two of you would let the silence heal him, picking up one of the books he kept at your home as you read side by side. 

He could be his hyper self, but he could also chill out and just read with you. It was a solace and for that he was thankful. It was no surprise when he’d fallen for you. When he’d peek up from his book and you’d catch him staring and you’d smile, or when he complimented your tea and snacks and you’d blush a bit and laugh in embarrassment. You were always so bad at taking compliments, but he meant every one. With all his heart.

When he entered your house this time, the house wasn’t filled with the smell of chamomile and honey, or wasn’t alive with the sound of a movie or television show, but was quiet and smelled regularly of the lavender house cleaner you adored.

He listened for it, but didn’t hear any kind of shower running. He checked the last place you could be. He leaned against the door frame and spotted your sleeping figure indulging in what seemed like a mid-afternoon nap. He smiled and his heart skipped when he thought this felt all very domestic, like he was returning to his wife after finishing up his shift. He loved that idea.

Not wanting to bother you, Hobi went back out to the kitchen where he retrieved his previously bookmarked novel and went to work brewing himself a bit of tea. Once he’d finished he moved everything into your bedroom. Luckily you had a queen, ample room for him to slip on the edge and sit next to you as he read his own story.

Strangely enough, it wasn’t long till he grew tired of his story. His tea also tasted a bit bland. It wasn’t as good as when you made it, or maybe he just enjoyed your company and voice so much it distracted him from the honest taste, but either way, he wanted to talk to you now. He was working on another song for his mixtape and he wanted to bounce some ideas off of you. He valued your opinion just as much as Suga or Namjoon.

He slid off his side of the bed and made his way back in the kitchen, quickly heating up some of the tea. You liked to wake up to the smell of tea. Sure, he just admitted it didn’t taste as good as yours but you would at least appreciate the effort.

Hobi held the tea against him as he bent down, hoping the smell would waft to your noise. He whispered your name a few times, hoping to coax you awake softly. He called your name, and he heard his name in response.

“Hobi.”

It came out with a breath and he smiled, satisfied when he thought he’d woken you up, but your eyes didn’t open, and he furrowed his brows. He called your name again.

“Hobi harder.”

It was like a match trying to strike but couldn’t. He titled his head and gave a confused laugh, not really knowing what else to do. What were you murmuring about?

“Hobi...good”

The rapper might have misinterpreted that as well, until a barrage of soft cute moans began to ambush his ears. And when you arched off the bed and your mouth fell open, the match finally lit. And it burned.

Just like the tea he’d newly heated up did as he dropped it on his crotch in shock.

Hoeseok’s screech pulled you quickly from any dream you were having, and you immediately woke up completely when you saw the young man pulling his jeans away from his skin.

“Oh my god! Hobi, what happened?”

Hobi didn’t respond to you, simply getting up and running to the attached bathroom, only allowing you to catch sight of the way his ears and cheeks looked more scarlet than anything you’ve seen. Hobi closed the bathroom door behind him.

“Make sure you strip, Hobi! You can borrow one of my sweats! And fill the tub with cold water! Get inside! Don’t worry about cleaning up!” You shouted instruction after instruction, and soon heard the bathtub filling. It wasn’t until another ten minutes when you asked if you could come inside. A patethic yes granting you permission. The curtain was drawn and you quickly asked if he was okay.

“Y-yeah,” he voice coming out low. The crack in his voice led you to believe otherwise though, and you stood outside the bathtub.

You fiddled with your fingers, “We can go to the hospital if you want. I’m worried.”

Silence.

It wasn’t until you had sighed and began to pick up his discarded clothes, your hand going to close the bathroom door that he called your name, poking his head past the curtain. He looked wrecked. You opened your mouth to ask if he was okay, but he cut you off with his own words, all in one breath saying:

“This is a bad time, but--”

Kim Namjoon

The city passed by Namjoon in the rear view mirror of his vehicle. He insisted on taking you home from the dorms. The boys had all offered to come with him for the ride, but the tired looks on all their faces, Namjoon sent them all to bed. He was more than capable than to take you safely home himself.

You lived a bit of drive away, unfortunately. You were always so stubborn about it, not letting the boys come to pick you up until you reached the gates of their community. You didn’t want them to worry about being your chauffeur. You were too sweet.

Luckily, you had been too tired to argue with him tonight as he had loaded you into his vehicle. You had drunk a few shots in their name as you watched them stand up and collect their Daesang on repeat. You had cried and laughed and generally been an emotional mess the whole night. He wasn’t able to indulge in the fun as much, but it was quite a show to watch you and the rest of the team fall into a stupor.

No way, was Namjoon going to let you go home at this point. You’d end up sleeping all the way to Busan. He cared too much about your safety to risk that. You were so pretty, he was sure some stranger might do things to you in your drunk coma.

He spotted you in his peripheral and watched you adjust your head against the cool glass of his car. You’d fallen asleep as soon as you’d been loaded into the vehicle and Namjoon enjoyed the silence. Just the sounds of the his engine humming gently and the cute snores coming from his passenger to accompany him.

The leader was actually a bit worried he might crash his car if he kept looking over at his precious cargo so often, but really it wasn’t his fault.

He nearly ran off the road for real though when he heard a moan come from his right. The blaring horn of a car he nearly hit, bounced off his ears and he didn’t even see the other driver flick him off. He licked his lips and his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as he quickly stole a few glances towards you. Maybe he heard that wrong? That was a regular moan and groan. But that was quite pronounced.

“Namjoonie~”

Namjoon’s grip against the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles becoming white against the strain. Maybe you knew another Namjoon? It wasn’t the most common name, but he surely couldn't be the only one. You couldn't be having a wet dream about him. You’d been friends for years. Sure he’d had feelings for you for a while, but you couldn't feel the same. It was impossible--

“Ahn~”

The options at this point were to wake you up or crash as he pumped the brakes in shock, causing another angry driver to tell Namjoon exactly how he felt with his horn. Namjoon couldn't give a flying fuck, because his car was a million degrees, his best friend was moaning his name in their sleep and he had a raging hard on at this point.

“You better stop,” Namjoon muttered under his breath, trying his best not to palm at himself, anything to relieve the burning pit in his stomach. A few more curses from him and few more moans from you and few more horns from drivers and Namjoon pressed play on his radio and in came the blaring vocals of NCT.

You jumped at the sudden loud noise, and Namjoon had to hide the sigh of relief. He prayed you were either too out of it or too drunk to notice the way his pants tented. He also prayed you wouldn’t fall back asleep.

“God damn Joon, are you deaf? You need it this loud?” You rubbed at your ears and jut out your bottom lip like a pouty baby. Namjoon didn’t trust himself to speak at this point. The only words forming at the back of his throat were questions. So many questions.

Was it okay to hope that dream meant something?

Was it okay to do something about it?

Not tonight. You were too drunk for this, he wanted you awake and completely sober, but he knew, the countdown to the day he admitted his feelings for you was coming soon, and he could only pray for a happy resolution, and maybe a chance to get you to make that sound while you were awake.

Park Jimin

Jimin pokes your cheek for what must have been the umpteenth time, giggling at the way you automatically swatted his hand away. He took another photo of you as he squished your cheeks together with one hand. He would be sure to tease you with his new blackmail when you woke up. You’d be a bit mad, sure, but you were cute when you were angry and it’s your fault for falling asleep in the dance studio.

You two had honestly just been fooling around. You had decided to learn the choreography for Not Today directly from the horse’s mouth after not being able to self teach it. It had started out functional enough, but Jimin couldn't help the way he would devolve with you into a silly giggling mess. Right before you’d passed out, the two of you had been ballroom dancing to your “wedding” song. You’d tried to act mad, but the way you’d eventually throw your head back and laugh with him made him melt into a puddle.

He hadn’t realized how late into the night it'd gotten and at your insistence, he went to secure a few sport drinks for his tired friend, who he had “failed” at teaching. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes when he returned to you asleep and dead to the world. He knew he’d have to wake you eventually, no matter how much he wanted you to sleep, since this was very much a dance studio and not his dorm’s couch or bed, but for now he’d get his photoshoot over. It was a rare chance, with the way you avoided camera’s like the plague, no matter how many times he tried to catch you candidly or otherwise. His lock screen was him laughing as you attempted (keyword: attempted) to hide your face. He didn’t know why you did that. You were beautiful, or least staggeringly so to him.

After a few more solo shots, he moved himself to sit besides you, moving your head to fall on his shoulder. He held the camera above you two, throwing up a victory sign as he smiled. He brought the phone down to inspect the camera and couldn't help the small blush at the idea that you two looked like a couple. He giggled in embarrassment to himself. Maybe a few more photos.

He held the phone up again, when a sigh that was his name escaped your pink lips, making him nearly drop his phone. He laughed again, thinking he just got caught taking photos of you, but when you didn’t join him or hit him playfully he realized you were still asleep and he smiled brightly. Were you really dreaming about him? Jimin felt the onslaught of butterflies in his stomach at the idea, feeling a bit special. He switched the camera over to video and pressed play.

“She’s dreaming about me~ Cute. Say my name again,” Jimin narrated into the camera, before moving it to just fit you in frame. He waited patiently a few more seconds, looking through his phone to you, when you finally made another noise.

‘“Feels good~ Jimin. Ah...”

Jimin laughed, obviously not connecting the dots, “Am I giving you a massage? She’s silly.” That was until your next moment separated a massage from at least a friendly massage.

Jimin’s eyes went wide when he saw you arch your back off the wall, your head nearly falling off his shoulder as you moaned, your brows scrunching up in pleasure. Jimin quickly hit the stop button on his phone and covered his mouth. He couldn't believe it.

A few more whimpers came from you as you quieted down, a sleepy but satisfied look on your face. Jimin felt like he broke out in a cold sweat, as he slipped your head quickly off his shoulder and moved away from you. The singer stared at you for a good long second, as if still coming to terms with what just happened, and when he finally did, he had what felt like ice and fire run through his blood. Well, as his blood rushed to hibernate south.

Jimin smacked his cheeks and giggled incredulously, his cheeks a dangerous red. He was in a weird spot of feeling hopeful, giddy, and excited for the fact you looked so happy to dream of him and the lusty, turned on and excited for totally different reasons.

He stood up, uncomfortable with the way his pants stood at attention. You two should head home, but he should probably go take care of this first. He bit his bottom lip, sucking it in as he looked down at his phone. He had the moment recorded. He left the room, with the thought that he’d use it just this once, and then after that he’d make his own mental videos with you soon.

Kim Taehyung

At this point Taehyung had made it clear that cuddling didn’t require any kind of romantic relationship to happen. He did it with anyone he deemed worthy, whether that be a begrudging Jungkook, or you, though he could willingly admit he did prefer to do it with you. Whether that had to do with the fact you smelled like vanilla, or how he loved the way your soft hair would feel against his skin, or how his skin would feel against your skin, or how perfectly you felt in his embrace, or the way you never complained about being little spoon, or how you were just as needy as him, or the fact he was madly in love with you.

Woah, woah, hold on. He needed to focus on going to sleep right now.

Not that it wasn’t easy. Even with you between his arms, and his heart skipping every time you’d sigh in your slumber, blowing your warm breathe against his skin, he was usually comfortable enough to drift off. For some reason though, he couldn't stop staring down at you. Only the top of your head and bangs and a bit of your nose were really view able from this position, but he still showered the view with the same amount of adoration he did everywhere else.

Maybe he was just feeling a bit stronger of his feelings. After spending the whole day with each other, hitting the arcade, watching a movie, pigging out on things he surely would get scolded for eating, playing with his puppy, he really didn’t want the day to end. He’d be going on tour next week, and that meant prep from tomorrow onward.

Taehyung was terrified at the idea that once he shut his eyes he’d wake up and you’d already be gone, slipping out of his hold like you so often did, seeing as you usually woke up first. You’d probably leave a note, saying you didn’t want to disturb his busy schedule and something about wishing him luck on his tour. You might even have tried to cook something, but he knows how bad you are at that.

The thought causes him to laugh, and causing you to stir as the vibrations from his deep chuckle apparently rock you. He stills, in fear that you will wake. He doesn’t know why the idea of that scares him, but it does.

“Tae~”

He hears your voice coo his name and he ignores the initial cute way you say it, going to apologize for waking you up, but after he had, he notices the lack of a response and pulls away from you enough to finally see your full expression: Sleeping beauty.

The singer’s face scrunches up in confusion when you say his name again, in the same voice and inflection. He laughs again, his square smile lighting up his features. He loves that nickname. Though many call him that, he especially loves it when you do. It seems so personal. He thanks Jimin every day for getting you on it.

He waits at this point for you to say it again, amused by the small show, and trying to keep himself from laughing again. He didn’t want to wake you and ruin it for himself. He hears a whimper and gets ready to hear his name again, laughter already bubbling in his gut.

“Tae~ there...”

Tae feels his breath hold, and it releases in a gasp when you follow up with a small moan. He feels an immediate hot ball form in the pit of his stomach and he subconsciously licks his lips.

“No way,” he can’t help himself from whispering as he feels your hands clutch harder at the back of his shirt and your face begin to scrunch up in what is apparently pleasure. He almost moans when he feels you pull yourself closer to him with another small whimper which he now understands the origin of. He should wake you up, he really, really should, but instead he feels your leg jut against his stiffening erection and he can’t handle it anymore.

He grabs your shoulder and shakes you awake, your name being whispered in the dark. You are a bit groggy and obviously a bit confused at the way he’s licking his lips and staring at you, which you make out against the full moon. Your even more surprised when you feel something poking your leg, and your brain wonders if you left a remote in the bed. Before you can investigate, Tae rolls over to straddle you, and you feel your face heat up to a million different temperatures. You open your mouth to question what was going on. Your heart beating and you try not to get your hopes up, but he speaks instead.

“Can I ask what you were dreaming about?”

Jeon Jungkook

“God dammit,” Jungkook watched his television as Hanzo’s Dragonstrike completely obliterated his already dying Widow. Another few curses rang through him when the match ended, much against his team’s favor. “No one goes to defense in Escort anymore! Do you see this?” Jungkook turned around to face you, ready for his best friend to share in his indigence, but instead all he got was you already comfortably resting under his blanket.

“Just make yourself at home,” Jungkook murmured sarcastically, throwing down his controller after exiting the game’s lobby. He got up to sit on the bed, bouncing heavily on his mattress, in an effort to wake you, but you remained asleep, that or you were pretending to be asleep.

The maknae slapped your arm, “Let’s play Mario.” Nothing. If Mario didn’t get you up, nothing would. Guess you were really asleep. Jungkook scooted back against the wall, where he could afford a view of your face. You were indeed asleep, wrapped up tightly in his blanket in the room you always complained was ‘too damn cold’. It wasn’t, you were just a big baby.

He did have to admit you did look cute all wrapped up like that, and after awkwardly glancing around, even though you two were the only ones in the room, Jungkook reached over to run a tentative hand through your locks. He always had like to touch your hair, it was just kind of hard to admit. You were the first person to tap your lap during movies at his dorm and have him give you full access to his locks. It was really embarrassing but he did it because he liked the happy look on your face he could see from the corner of his eyes when he let you.

Jungkook would like nothing else but to reciprocate the act of affection, but he thought maybe that was a bit too ‘coupley?’ Was that a word?

So in the dark of night, with the sound of Overwatch’s title screen playing as a soundtrack, he finally had the chance to touch the hair he loved so much.

He really wanted to just touch you all the time, but there was no way he could do that, not with the fact he’d sworn you off as just his best friend for the rest of his life. You were too precious to lose for something as ridiculous as his heart, because there was no way you could reciprocate any type of feeling for him. You were too funny, and easy going, and talented, and beautiful, and kind, and, ah, he really was whipped.

It certainly didn’t help either how jealous he could get. Whether that be one of his hyungs touching you, or a random guy on the street giving you the up-down, he couldn't handle it. He’d like nothing more than just put an arm around your shoulder and glare the stranger down, or not have to share you with his hyungs and keep you in his room, where you two would do all sorts of things and then you’d hold his hand and say something like--

“I love you.”

Yeah, something like that.

Wait, what?!

Jungkook whipped his head over to you, not realizing his day dream had led his eyes to glaze over, like a schoolgirl. Did you just say I love you? Were you sleep talking? Who was in your dream? Were you possibly, talking to him? No, Jungkook don’t get ahead of yourself. He couldn't help the sick clawing in his stomach though at the thought that one of his hyungs was currently in your mind’s eye. Feeling a bit pouty, Jungkook closed in on the hand resting over the blanket and timidly put his fingers through yours. It did make him feel better, though a bit lame.

“Kookie.”

Before he could even register it in his head, it’s like his body automatically made the connection, his lips spreading wide in a bunny smile, before his brain told him that she was dreaming about him right?

Even if that I love you, was probably the most platonic I love you in the world, at least it wasn’t in reference for you. Jungkook sighed. He kept friendzoning himself, without any input from you. That’s how hopeless this whole thing seemed. But it had to be right? Platonic? You told him all the time jokingly how you loved him. That’s all he could take from you.

Then he felt your fingers wrap harshly around his own.

“Fuck~ Hah”

Jungkook actually yelped, and tried to tug his fingers quickly away, but as you canted your hips forward slightly, looking for friction in your dream world, the poor boy couldn't escape. He would have run out of the room, but between the way your fingers held on to his, and your mouth fell open in soft moans and whimpers the boy was rendered speechless. He couldn't get up and run, but something else was definitely coming up.

Jungkook was mortified as he looked down to his sweatpants the outline of his cock prevalent against his boxers. This was so pathetic. Holding hands with his one sided love, getting hard over the wet dream with... him...

“Oh my god!” Jungkook shouting, all the implications hitting him at once. The ‘I Love you,’ his name, the moans. Holy shit. Oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD.

His loud yell was enough to wake you up from your dreams rather unpleasantly and he slipped quickly from your grip and booked it from the room, leaving you confused and rather confused on why you felt so horny.

OMg I hope this wasn’t ASS. It’s my first time I’ve written anything close to smut or reactions but this website had corrupted my one innocent stanning (lol jk when was it ever)