#bts stomach ache | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

forlix · 1 year ago

Text

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞・l.f.

— five times you want to tell your best friend you love him and the time you finally do.

words・7.7k

pairing・idol!felix x gn!reader

genres・fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn w/a happy ending, 5 + 1 trope, idiots in love who are also afraid of love, you do the math

warnings・alcohol consumption, discussions of anxiety, lots of emotional vulnerability, like a surprising amount of crying icl

playlist・jazz bar by dreamcatcher・spring day by bts・through the night by iu・eight by iu ft. suga・house song by searows・not mine by day6

a/n・i borrowed the title of this beautiful day6 song for this fic; give it a listen if you can (especially while reading part four). happy late birthday, lix <333 thank you for being you

One. The door to the café opens with a soft jingle, bringing a chilly draft into the room and causing you to draw your scarf tighter around your shoulders.

Theoretically, you come here to study—but people-watching has become a simultaneous pastime. There was that couple with a pair of samoyeds, so fluffy that they looked like walking clouds; a mother and son, hunched over their croissants, arguing in a classic “don’t cause a scene in public” tone; an elderly woman in bicycle shorts asking for extra shots of espresso in the menu’s most caffeinated item.

And now, there is him.

“Hello,” the ashy-haired stranger says to the barista with a quick, polite bow. “May I have a medium caramel latte? Hot, with sweetener, please. Thank you.”

His voice reminds you of the notes of a cello, of the feeling of running your fingers through tufted velvet. When he turns away from the counter, he’s slipping a card back into his wallet, and you catch a glimpse of long lashes and a scattering of freckles. You cannot see his face, as it’s covered by a black mask, but that only propels the question further: who are you?

And perhaps it is destiny herself who hooks a gentle finger beneath the stranger’s chin and tilts his head upwards, because when he inadvertently steps into a patch of sunlight, his brown irises illuminate like molten amber, and they are fixed upon you.

You feel your lips part, your stomach turn. You don’t know if your cheeks are so warm because of your piping hot tea (your third one today) or because of the newfound eye contact with someone so ethereal.

But you are sure that the corners of the stranger’s eyes crinkle ever so slightly, as if his lips have just curved into a smile beneath his mask.

“Felix,” the barista calls, and you turn the name silently on your tongue.

Maybe you are exhausted from work and not thinking straight. Maybe you are more starved for change than you’ve ever been. Or maybe you’re just prophetic. But you think you sense forever in this man, with his freckled cheeks and pretty eyes.

That is the first time you want to tell Lee Felix you love him.

Two. The second Felix comes into your line of vision, you sense that something is wrong.

You hold up a hand in greeting, and the smile he returns is sincere but muted, as if it pains him to move, to breathe. He sounded weary on the phone earlier—can I see you tonight? Just for a bit—but only now that he’s in front of you do you see the extent of his fatigue, seeping into his sunken shoulders and lightless eyes.

“Hi,” he says once he’s close enough.

“Hey, you,” you answer, rising out of your seat. Instinctively, he extends his arms toward you, and you draw him into a hug that is fleeting and familiar. He smells faintly of laundry detergent and vanilla, and it makes something within you ache, like an oyster searching for its absent pearl.

When you pull away, your hands move to your best friend’s cheeks, cocooning his face so you can get a better look at him. Even under the sparse streetlights, you see that his eyes are slightly bloodshot, the shadows beneath them deep and sullen. Has he been crying?

“Bad day?” You ask, your hands falling back to your sides.

“The worst,” he returns with a weak smile.��

“Wanna take a walk?”

“Yes, please. How long do I have you for?”

This is what you do when your schedules are too packed for you to make real plans: take strolls wherever is most convenient, for however long either of you can spare. Sometimes that’s five minutes, sometimes five hours. But you know that you need to be here for him tonight.

“As long as you need me,” you say.

You turn around to pick up your drinks (a decaf caramel latte for Felix and a black milk tea for yourself), and you don't see the way his smile comes back a little bigger the second time, the way his cheeks warm slightly under the moonlight.

There’s a small park a few blocks behind your apartment. Granted, it's not a very good park, with only a tiny, sad playground and very little foliage, but it is an excellent stargazing spot, due to it being so dark and desolate. You and Felix decide to head there now, your arms touching as you walk through the quiet residential area.

Ten minutes later, blades of grass are poking the back of your head, and directly above you is a sea of scattered stars, flickering like millions of faulty flashlights. Felix’s voice is leaden when he starts to speak, breaking the park’s fragile silence. He tells you about his fears, about how earlier today they overwhelmed him so much that he wanted to lock himself away from the world and throw away the key. He tells you about his dreams, about how even in his relentless pursuit of them they sometimes still feel as amorphous and unattainable as fragments of mist.

The way he always does when he’s around you, Felix spills parts of himself that he never thought he could entrust to anyone. And you don’t say a word, your knee leaning against his, listening, understanding. (But you wish you could tell him a lot of things: that you care for him more than you ever believed yourself capable; that you hope for his happiness more than your own; that you don’t have the words to heal him, but you would give anything to find them.)

By the time the two of you leave the park, it’s almost midnight, and the streets have fallen silent save for the occasional whoosh of car wheels on cement and the distant lamentations of cricket choirs. You’re making small talk now, and Felix is smiling a little easier. It seems your conversation worked in cheering him up; a temporary fix, you’re sure, like a bandaid where stitches should be, but seeing his eyes crinkle and hearing his laugh again is enough to soothe your worry for the rest of the night, at the very least.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay going back yourself?” You ask once the two of you reach the entrance to your apartment building.

“Yeah, of course.” Felix touches the back of his neck apologetically. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late.”

“Nonsense, Lix. I’m always here for you.”

Felix averts his eyes to his shoes, and you’re caught off guard by his facial expression: exhausted but contemplative, and possessing a sense of tenderness. It is a look that you don’t think you’ve seen before, and you feel your heartstrings pull at its unfamiliarity, its strange softness.

You say your goodbyes, but your "let me know when you get home safe" is cut short when you feel a hand catch your wrist, just as you’re entering the building.

How Felix doesn’t notice your frantic pulse beneath his touch is beyond you, but instead he parts his lips, and his next words resound in your mind as you try and fail to fall asleep that night.

“I can’t explain why, or how—but I feel braver when I’m with you, Y/N. I meant to tell you that earlier.”

And those three words rush to your mind fleetingly, like saltwater crashing against the shores of your mind. Even when the tide has subsided, they remain on the sand, waiting to be read aloud.

“Thank you,” Felix mumbles, “for everything.”

You don’t read out those words, of course. Instead, you reach up to squish Felix’s face and call him a sentimental dork, to which he rolls his eyes affectionately and bats you away, and the moment is over. But when you turn to go, your heart is pounding so loudly that your reply may as well have been a confession.

Three. You sink into your mattress, careful to keep your tea within your mug’s rim, and let out a hybrid of a groan and a sigh that is strikingly reminiscent of an old man lowering himself into a worn armchair.

You can’t remember the last time you had a cold this terrible. It feels as if your lungs took a plunge in a vat of wet cement and then rolled around in gravel immediately afterward. And it’s got you in the mood to do nothing but listen to the heavy drops of rain knocking against your window, curl up with a good show and a hot drink, and bask in your own congestion.

But then your phone, which you left in the bathroom, emits four deafening notification sounds, and you haul yourself back out of bed with a groan-sigh that’s twice as anguished as the last.

When you reach the hellish device, your best friend’s name greets you, and your ire dissipates momentarily.

From: Lix 🐣 Hey hey From: Lix 🐣 We still on for dinner tonight? From: Lix 🐣 Just gonna be me, Minho, Seungmin. Jeongin has a vocal lesson From: Lix 🐣 Please don’t play the “if Jeongin doesn’t go neither do I” card again I’ve had enough of it!!! ENOUGH

You let out a throaty laugh that sounds like one of Minho’s cats battling a hairball, heading back to bed.

From: Y/N 🌙 ahhhh i meant to text you earlier, but i have the worst cold From: Y/N 🌙 no clue how or why i caught it but i feel like fucking shit. it’d be a bad idea for me to come over right now From: Y/N 🌙 sorry :( can we raincheck in a few days? From: Y/N 🌙 (that way jeongin can come too!!!)

Felix dislikes this last text, and you snort into your tea.

From: Lix 🐣 Yeah, of course. Don’t apologize From: Lix 🐣 Do you need anything? You’re eating and sleeping well, yeah? From: Y/N 🌙 sleeping, YES. From: Y/N 🌙 eating, not really 😅 but i don’t have much of an appetite anyways From: Y/N 🌙 don’t worry about me. i’ll be raring to go in a day or two

Felix starts to type a response, but the gray dots disappear after a bit, and you set your phone face-down on your nightstand. He probably has to get back to work, and you have to get back to your episode.

Slowly, the soporific fragrance of chamomile and the lull of relentless rain start to weigh on your eyelids, and you slump unconsciously into your makeshift fortress of blankets, your show playing to nobody.

Night has fallen by the time the door of your apartment clicks open, and Felix pokes a head into your dark kitchen, cautiously calling out your name. When you don’t respond, he slips inside and moves to your kitchen counter, where he unloads the bags in his arms. A spare key to your place dangles from the opening of his hoodie pocket.

There’s a quiet knock on your bedroom door, another call of your name—infinitely softer this time, like how one would speak to a dove. But Felix finds you out like a light, even when he closes your laptop and puts it on your desk, checks your temperature with a gentle hand to your forehead. It feels normal enough to let you sleep, but warm enough that he brings a glass of water and two pills of ibuprofen to your nightstand, placed within your reach, should you wake up in the middle of the night needing them.

Using only the slivers of light coming in from the hallway, Felix allows himself to look at your sleeping form. Your breathing is callous but steady; your face pallid but peaceful. And if only you'd seen see the tiny, helpless smile that pulls at his lips; if only you'd heard the pulse protesting against his skin, yelling at him “do something about this, you fucking idiot, and do it soon."

But you don’t see or hear anything; you just speak, instead.

“Stay with me,” you whisper, and Felix’s hand freezes on your doorknob, his eyes widening in the darkness. “Please?”

There is a lengthy period of nothing, during which neither of you makes another noise; there is only the sound of your clock ticking, raindrops rushing against the windows, and Felix’s heart in his ears.

And then he moves.

“C'mere,” Felix murmurs once he’s lying down next to you, and you nestle into his embrace as easily as if you've always belonged there, your face burrowing into the crook of his neck, your arms winding around his waist, searching for him, asking for him.

Felix has always expressed his affection for people through touch, and you’ve gotten used to his constant hand on your shoulder, his leg resting against yours. But he thinks this is the first time you’ve initiated physicality outright, and he feels a concerned pang in his chest at your unexpected vulnerability. He lifts a hand to cradle the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair.

“Gonna get you sick,” you say with a wet sniffle, your voice muffled against him. And Felix presses a kiss to the top of your head, perhaps without thinking as much as he should have; but who can blame him for forgetting to think when he’s holding you the way he is?

“Don’t care,” he answers readily. “I'm not going anywhere.”

At some point before you fall back asleep, you think your mouth actually forms the words I love you, subtly and silently and into the fabric of his hoodie. But you resume your slumber before you can think more of it. (Felix waits until your breathing is steady again, checks your temperature one more time; and only afterward does he allow his eyes to close.)

The next morning, you wake to an empty bed and a Post-It note explaining that Felix had to run to a recording session: Check your kitchen! See u soon x. Accompanied by a small, messy doodle of a baby chick popping out of its egg.

Your face melts into a smile when you see that the fridge is chock-full of fresh groceries and the pantry has been restocked with your favorite snacks, including a batch of Felix’s world-famous sea salt brownies—accompanied by another note with another doodle, this time a crescent moon wearing your sneakers. Sugar is prolly bad for you rn. Pls have in moderation!

When you pull out your phone to thank him for everything, you see his remaining texts from yesterday—and you feel momentarily empty, as if only then noticing that you've been missing a fraction of your soul your whole life.

From: Lix 🐣 I’ll drop by tonight to check on you From: Lix 🐣 Wait for me, okay?

And he is right in front of you, just out of reach.

Four. “This isn’t a bad idea, right?” Chan asks under his breath.

“Nah, they’ll be fine,” Minho replies, clapping a hand on the leader’s shoulder. “Y/N will take care of him.”

A loud yelp comes from up ahead, and the men whip around quickly enough to crack a joint—only to realize that the noise was the opening note of DAY6’s “Not Mine,” and you and Felix have just launched into song so terribly and so loudly that it’s probably awoken the entirety of Seoul.

“And who’s gonna take care of Y/N?”

The two men look at each other for a moment before deciding they’re not interested in talking the two of you out of a disorderly intoxication charge.

“Let me know when you get back!” Chan hollers after you, and they reenter the karaoke bar in a hurry.

The members decided to go out for karaoke after finishing promotions earlier that week, and Felix invited you to come along. And you might've gone a little overboard with the mango sake, but your level of tipsy is nothing compared to that of the blue-haired boy draped over you.

Felix is rather prone to hangovers, you’ve discovered from past experiences, so the moment he started speaking in some kind of nonsensical Korean-English mutation that not even Chan could understand, the members tasked you with taking him home early. Now, Felix has his arm around your neck, less out of affection and more out of a genuine requirement for support, doing his best to walk in a straight line. He hasn't stopped grinning for the last hour, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to run out of energy anytime soon, not as long as there’s more of DAY6’s discography to butcher.

In spite of your foggy mind, you're well aware that your best friend has never been prettier. He sets the bar high as it is, but then you throw in the flushed lips and cheeks, the lopsided, ditzy grin, the wine-kissed complexion, and life becomes terribly difficult for you. It doesn’t help that alcohol amplifies his proclivity for physical contact—he's been attached to your hip all night, holding your waist, pulling you into incidental hugs.

Needless to say, your current situation is a bit precarious; but you don't know that. Not yet.

The two of you finish your disrespectful rendition of “Not Mine” just as you pass the apartment’s front desk, and it is only when you see the deadly look that the receptionist gives you over the brim of his glasses that you finally feel sober again. You have the sense to incline your head in apology. Felix, however, launches into “You Were Beautiful” without a care in the world.

You dig a pointed elbow into his ribs as you hit the up button, and his singing abruptly falters with a pained huff. "Ow."

“Take an intermission, superstar,” you say. “The receptionist looks like he’s ready to throttle us.”

“Ah, he would never. We’re tight,” he returns, and before you can stop him he’s lifting his head, raising his voice. “Have a good night, Mr. Seo!”

Your nose scrunches into an apprehensive wince—but instead, you think you hear a hint of a smile in the man's cool reply.

“You too, Mr. Lee. Keep your voices down, please.”

“Yes, sir!” You and Felix reply in unison. Felix gives you a smile that says I told you so before he nestles his cheek against your shoulder, and you shake your head. Nobody is immune to the boy’s brightness.

Entering the building seemed to be effective in calming Felix down. The elevator ride up is silent save for a bit of quiet humming, and you finally see a bit of sleep on his face when you open the door of his dorm and turn on the living room lights. He lets you escort him to his bathroom without a word.

“I’ll be here if you need me,” you say, reaching to pat his cheeks a couple times. “Be careful in there.”

“M’kay. Thank you," he says with a drowsy smile, and closes the door.

You pull out your phone and open up your messages with Chan, remembering his parting request.

To: Chan 🐺 we got back safe!! To: Chan 🐺 lix is gonna be okay. i'll take care of him

A few minutes later, a notification appears at the top of your screen; Chan left hearts on both of your messages and sent two in response.

From: Chan 🐺 Thanks, good to hear :) you get some rest too, okay? From: Chan 🐺 Bro tore that sake UP

You begin to type back a retort—give me a break it was basically JUICE—when you hear Felix call your name, his voice muffled through the bathroom door.

“What's up?” You answer.

“I think I’m...stuck.”

Now what the hell does that mean?

“Can I come in?”

“Mhm.”

You open the door, and your attempt to suppress your laughter fails with flying colors. Felix is well and truly stuck in his crewneck, the gray material swathed around his head, his arms positioned in some kind of advanced pretzel formation.

“You are a hot mess, Lee Yongbok," you sing, moving toward him, and he whines from inside his cotton prison.

“Please don’t kick me while I’m down.”

Grinning, you bring your fingers to the hem of his top and attempt to lift it over his head. He’s managed to tangle himself quite impressively, and the next few minutes are spent with you trying to extract him, like he’s that one nose hair that your tweezers have never been able to reach, all while he's moaning and groaning about the fabric catching on his earrings, about his joints not being able to handle this kind of pressure anymore.

He emerges from the crewneck a while later looking positively disgruntled. You toss the gray mass onto the counter, proud of your handiwork.

“So maybe I‘m a hot mess,” he concedes. “A little bit.”

“That's alright. We all have our moments,” you giggle. “Come on, let me help you with your jewelry.”

For a second, he looks like he’s about to protest—but the look you give him reminds him that his motor functions are currently on strike.

“Okay,” he mumbles adorably.

You position yourself a little closer to Felix and lift your hands to the nape of his neck, where the clasp of his chain lies. It takes you a few tries to undo it, and you end up having to use the mirror above the sink for guidance. Soon, there is a soft click. You set the chain down next to the crewneck before your hands return to the sides of his face, this time to tuck long, light blue strands behind the cuffs of his ears. Your fingers run over the curves of his silver earrings.

“Are these bothering you at all?” You ask nonchalantly. “I forgot you had so many piercings.”

In your peripheral vision, you see Felix’s lips move, but no sound comes out. Puzzled, you move your eyes to meet his, and it takes you one blink’s worth of time to understand the source of his speechlessness.

Somewhere between your reaching up to touch his necklace and the present moment, you’ve come incredibly, dangerously close to him. Close enough that you can count the freckles that speckle his skin like fallen stars, that you can feel the heat of his body against your own, that Felix’s eyes are nearly crossed trying to maintain eye contact with you.

Your heartbeat lodges itself firmly in your throat, and your thoughts evaporate into complete and utter disarray. There are three differently-worded apologies on the tip of your tongue within seconds. You immediately start to pray that he won’t remember this tomorrow morning. And your strongest impulse is to move; to get as far away from him as possible, before either of you does anything you'll regret.

But there is something that overwhelms your every instinct, and stops you from budging an inch. And that is the way Felix is looking at you, unblinking brown eyes filled with something that doesn’t have a name. It is the same tender expression that’d surprised you the first time you saw it, and it is with a spiraling stomach that you finally realize what that expression is.

You reach your conclusion a second after he does.

Felix’s hand lifts to cradle your jaw, his face moving closer to yours. Your foreheads touch, wisps of his hair falling over the bridge of your nose, your senses engulfed by the vanilla of his cologne and the touch of sweet wine on his breath. The scene is as delicate as a dragonfly’s tail dipping into a pond’s surface; even a minuscule disturbance would shatter this limbo instantaneously.

A part of you wishes that it would, but nothing does. There is only his pulse, perceptible through the thin cloth of his tank top, vehement beneath your fingertips—and your heart, naked and frail, sitting upon the palm of his hand.

Felix doesn’t push you away; he doesn’t kiss you. He does something far worse.

“I love you,” he whispers.

A few seconds. That is how long you stand there for, with every word of every language you know inaccessible, every qualm and doubt and source of anxiety that plagued your mind moments before now distant memories, every ounce of your energy channeled into keeping yourself upright.

But the few seconds feel like forever. The same way he has always felt like forever to you. The same way you imagined you would spend forever loving him, close enough for him to love you back, but far enough that he’ll never know the true nature of your affection: greater and truer than anything anyone would ever call friendship.

An urgent question suddenly surfaces in your mind: is he still drunk? He was falling up, down, and sideways minutes ago. Surely this was an intoxicated slip of the tongue. But you discern the slight tremble to Felix’s breathing and the intensity in his heavy-lidded gaze, all far too intentional, far too conscious to be wine-induced—leaving behind one impossible possibility.

You should be having your happy tears kissed from your face right now. You should be over the moon, relishing in the sensation of two stars aligning at long fucking last, the way you’ve dreamed of since the very first time you laid eyes on Felix.

But instead, you just feel inexplicably and profusely afraid.

You won’t remember the specifics of the next few minutes. You think you stumble away from him and whisper I’m sorry through watering eyes, though you don’t really know what for. He sputters something in return, his tone so desperate and confused that you feel your heart break to pieces on the spot. You apologize again, leave the bathroom, and move towards the apartment door as if your life depends on it. In your peripheral vision, you notice the crease of concern on Mr. Seo’s face when you stalk past him, tears now flying freely down your cheeks. You run into Minho and Jeongin when you step out of the building, and you see the worry that creases their faces, hear their voices calling your name. Jeongin's hand closes around your wrist—are you okay?! What the fuck happened?—but you do not, can not say anything, not right now.

And then you are alone again, and you briskly walk the two miles back to your apartment. Your mind and heart are every bit as foggy as the somber night sky that hangs over your head.

Five. When the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the evening, Felix turns around to face you, launching into his best tour guide walk.

“And, with that,” he says with a glowing smile, “we are nearing the end of our tour of Sydney.”

“Noooo,” you lament, reaching your arm out. Felix falls back into step beside you and links it with his, the movement like clockwork. Your jackets scrunch up together where your elbows bend. “Already?”

“Okay, the tour’s been going on for two days and you haven’t paid a cent for my toil. Don’t push your luck.”

Your laughter spills into the otherwise quiet avenue, the setting sun throwing shadows across the cement, but it always feels like midday when you have the brightest man in the world by your side.

When the two of you discovered you had a free weekend on the same days, Felix conjured up the idea of going home—and suggested that you go with him. You’d freaked out for a bit, but then Felix reminded you that his mom texts you on your birthday and that you’re on multiple different subscription plans with his sisters, and you collected yourself quite quickly. There was a lot of cheering over the phone when Felix informed his family that they’d finally get to meet you in person.

But such a fast trip to the other side of the world proved to be no easy feat. Felix took on the task of piecing together a travel plan that would cover most of his favorite spots in forty-eight hours. The last two weeks were filled with him fretting over the details and you fretting over him, asking time and time again if you could help with anything, only for him to shoo you away with a single hand and a pointed “you are my guest. Now leave me.”

With assistance from every other resource at his disposal, though, he pulled it off, and the weekend has been wonderful thus far.

“I think that was some of the best food I’ve ever had, seriously,” you hum. “I’ll be dreaming about those appetizers for the rest of my life.”

“I'm glad. It took a Socratic seminar to choose the place, after all."

(The Socratic seminar in question: a two-hour FaceTime call and an intense match of rock-paper-scissors between him and his siblings, aimed to decide on where Felix would take you for dinner the second night. Only for his mom to ignore all of their efforts and insist upon her own choice of restaurant instead—no ifs, ands, or buts.)

“We have to try your sisters’ recommendations the next time I visit, don’t we?”

“Yes," he returns, shuddering. "I think my family is done for if we don’t."

He has one place left to take you, and the two of you head there now, shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm.

A month has passed since that night.

You’ve tried with every fiber of your being to put the whole thing from your mind, of course to no avail. You see Felix’s flushed lips and gentle gaze every time you blink; you hear his “I love you” every time you’re alone, the words whispered in the wind and dragged over the earth, in tandem with your footsteps.

You wanted to fucking die of awkwardness in the few days following, but it was never an option for you to avoid Felix for long. The two of you still went on convenience store runs together; still met up for coffee before work; still continued your business as usual, against all odds. And you owed it all to Felix and how he knows you better than you know yourself. He didn’t try to talk to you when he sensed that you had nothing to say; nor did he try to bring you back when you felt miles away. He would just silently slip a pack of your favorite cookies into your grocery basket or order your drink on your behalf.

Felix had questions and wanted answers; there was no doubt about that. But he held his tongue, granted you as much space as you needed to come back to him. And you did, in your gradual, meticulous way.

You’re finally going to bring it up tonight. You’ve planned to since the day you confirmed the trip, and you hope that the final stop of the tour will be the perfect place to bite the bullet.

“We’re here,” Felix says.

The two of you have arrived at the bank of a wide river, and you’re at a temporary loss for words. To your right is a bridge that spans the distance of the water, and to your left is a stunning, panoramic view of the city of Sydney. Twilight has turned the buildings into dark silhouettes against the autumn sunset, and the water reminds you of a palette of oil paints with how it reflects the pinks and oranges in the sky.

Felix feels you tighten your hold around his arm, and he smiles when he sees the wonder in your eyes. He wishes he could see this place for the first time again.

“Not bad, huh?”

“No,” you murmur. “Not at all.”

“C’mon.”

Felix leads you to the center of the bridge, where he props his elbows atop the metal railing and looks over the water. You join him and pull out your phone, but no settings or adjustments render your camera capable of capturing the landscape's beauty.

(Until Felix throws up a peace sign and pokes his head into the corner of your frame. Then it stands a fighting chance.)

“What is this place?” You ask, your shoulder touching his when you also lean over the railing. “Why are we the only ones here?”

“Crazy, right?” Felix says proudly. “I dunno. I think it might be private property, or something. But it’s only a few blocks away from my house and on the way I used to take to school, so I used to come here all the time, always around this time of day.”

Felix’s gaze moves over the sky, oblivious to the fact that his eyes hold whole rainbows of their own.

“There was never anyone around, but I could still hear the birds chirping and the wind in the leaves. It felt like a corner of the world had been sealed off just for me. I’m glad to see that nothing’s changed.”

Some time passes, and Felix tells you more stories about this peculiar bridge: how he asked someone to formal and got rejected and came here to reflect on his actions; how he had to take two different buses every day because his school was so far away from his house, but he always stopped here to feed the families of mallards that came out to swim in the mornings, even if it meant he’d be late; how this was the last place he went to before moving to South Korea, because he knew he’d miss this nook of Sydney most.

Of all the places you've visited, you think this one will remain with you longest. As time elapses, the colors of the sunset augment and deepen, dyeing the world in ways that remind you of the aurora. And then there is the man, wearing a gentle smile to match his softened features, his voice to your ears what honey is to a sore throat, telling you about his past, letting you into yet another chamber of his soul.

You are in no way prepared to butcher the sanctity of this moment, but you know that you can only run for so long and so far. You owe it to him. You owe it to yourself.

When the sun’s final rays are clinging the faraway mountaintops, Felix lifts himself off the railing and stands up straight. “Ready to go home?"

And your hand finds his, the pads of your fingers cold against his skin. Felix is surprised at first, but then he sees the hint of sadness in your eyes and the tension in your shoulders, and he understands what’s coming.

“I want to talk to you about that night,” you say.

Felix doesn’t respond for a few seconds. But when he does, his voice is so soft and so infuriatingly kind that hearing it makes you want to sob.

“...you don’t have to, Y/N.”

“No. I do,” you return, startling even yourself with the firmness in your voice, "I don’t want to keep dancing around the topic, not when you’ve been waiting for as long as you have.”

You feel Felix’s gaze on your face, as if he’s trying to read between your lines, and then he yields with a slight incline of his head.

“Okay.” And the stage is yours.

You don't start talking right away, your mind reeling with the effort to organize everything you feel and verbalize everything you want to tell him. It isn’t until Felix gives your hand a gentle squeeze—you’ve forgotten that you’re still holding his—that you feel rooted in the moment again.

It’s Felix you’re talking to; your soulmate, your sunlight. Nothing you are about to say will ever change that. This, you believe with every fiber of your being.

So you take a deep breath.

“When you said those words,” you begin, and the words sound alien in your voice, despite how many times you’ve rehearsed this conversation in your head, “I couldn’t process a thing. I was so happy, but I was so, so scared. I’ve spent the last month trying to figure out why I was so scared, and I can’t say that I know for sure yet, but I have a much better idea now, and—it’s a lot of things.

“For as long as I can remember, I have only ever been able to love profoundly and deeply, with everything in me. And over time, I led myself to believe that nobody would ever be able to understand or reciprocate my love, not in the manner I want most.”

You feel yourself starting to waver, but you find strength in his touch.

“But you changed that, Felix. You walked into that café that afternoon with your voice and your smile, and suddenly I’d found you—someone who experiences life the way I do, who loves the way I love. And every day since, I’ve been surrounded by you and your effortless warmth and your beautiful soul. It was only a matter of time before I started hoping, constantly and stupidly, that you would one day love me, the same way that I—”

Your voice catches in your throat like a heel slamming into car brakes, “love you” hanging so dangerously from the tip of your tongue that you’re stunned it doesn’t fall out right away.

“But that’s why I’m fucking terrified,” you go on. “When you told me you loved me, I felt like I could fly. But I also felt like I was falling—and maybe this is because I was still tipsy, I'm not really sure—but in that moment I saw a world where we weren't there to catch each other, where something had gone horribly wrong and I'd wake up one morning and you’d—you’d just be a distant memory.

“And that was the thought that shook me so badly: losing you. Leaving you.” You’re crying now, tears paving golden trails against your cheeks. “For whatever reason, that was the first thing that came to mind, and it broke me.”

You need to wrap it up, and fast, if your faltering voice and racing heart are any indication.

“I meant it when I apologized to you that night. I’m sorry, Lix. I’m sorry I made everything so fucking complicated. I’m sorry that I ran away. I’m sorry that I hurt you, or worried you. But I want you to know that I feel more for you than you will ever understand; I just need a little more time to put it into words. So, wait for me—”

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you finally cave, your last word coming out in a shattered rasp.

“—please.”

And the syllable has barely left your mouth when Felix lets go of your hand, only to bring his arms around you and pull you to his chest with such urgency that the breath momentarily leaves your lungs.

When you fall against him, you fall entirely apart. You have no idea where all the feelings are coming from, only that they’re suddenly overwhelming your every sense. And you start to cry, really cry, your fingers seeking refuge in his jacket, in his hair.

The sun departs at last, and night starts to fall. You lose track of how long you remain in this position, shaking with hushed sobs, fighting to regain control of your emotions. But Felix stays with you through it all, muted tears of his own intermingling with yours in the material of his scarf. He holds you carefully yet fiercely, like you really will crumble if he lets go.

And he waits, because of course he does. He would wait lifetimes for you.

One. The way you thaw is like melting snow.

It happens under your nose for the most part, but it is slow, sure, and irreversible, and you open your eyes one morning only to realize that the world outside has changed—and so have you.

You roll over and pick up your phone. There are unread messages from Felix sitting in your notifications, probably confirming the plans you made to get coffee before work today, but you put them on hold for now. Instead, you open up your camera roll and find an album, labeled with a sun emoji and yellow heart.

You made this a few months after you met Felix, and you’ve doted on it since, in the sense that you update it almost every day. Funnily enough, though, you’ve never looked through the album just to look through it. Maybe because you’ve never had the time or felt the impulse, but more likely because you know that the album is a visual time capsule of your relationship with the most important person in your life—which has never been purely platonic for you, despite how hard you’ve tried to change your heart.

Looking through it would mean acknowledging your true emotions, something you’ve never felt ready for.

Now, you open the album without a second thought, a preemptive smile on your lips. And you find yourself swept out of your bed and thrown back inside each of the pictures you see, reliving the moments as vividly as if you’re watching them on film.

This is one of your favorites, taken during a late-night tteokbokki run to a small restaurant behind Felix's company building. Felix was laughing so hard at one of your stories that he could only take bites of his meal every five minutes. His face had broken into a dazzling grin, his figure blurring as he lurched forward in his seat, trying to pull his hood over his face in secondhand embarrassment. Snap. He is always handsome, extraordinarily so, but you think you love the way he looks here most of all: every guard of his lowered, carefree, happy.

Another is from the first time you met Chan. Nowadays, your interactions with the boys consist mostly of running into them at Felix's dorm and making friendly small talk. But it's always been different with the oldest member. The first time Felix introduced the two of you, you clicked straightaway, and you had to have spent four hours after dinner just talking, scouring the city for something cold to eat. By the end of the sweltering summer night, the three of you were perched atop a short stone barrier in a secluded corner of Seoul, right outside the best bingsu place in all of South Korea. Felix had leaned over to steal the last cube of mango from Chan’s bowl, to Chan's dramatic protest. Snap. And Chan is like a brother to you now; you will never be able to fathom how much light Felix has brought to your life, be it through him or the people he loves.

A computer screen displaying a League of Legends scoreboard, in which Felix has died more times than there were minutes of the game. Snap. You (not sober) in the center of Felix's living room, your body poised in what is supposed to be the chorus of “Queencard," Felix and Bin completely losing their shit on the couch. Snap. His head bowed in anguish over a bowl of brownie batter after he mistakes salt for sugar. Snap. A low-quality, tiny Felix on stage, the brightest grin on his face when he finally manages to spot you in the nosebleeds. Snap. Your dining table creaking under the weight of all the gifts he got you for your last birthday. Snap. Him and one of your best friends from home, arms around each other, peace signs thrown up, beaming. Snap.

There are countless more, and they are all so incredibly near and dear to you, all thanks to the freckled boy in each.

You respond to Felix's messages (“be there soon!”), and then move to get dressed. There is a new sense of certainty in your gait when you emerge from your building and into the quiet morning.

The weather is lovely, the fresh sunlight cream-colored against a cloudless sky, the light breeze shuffling the new leaves about. A hound’s ears twitch when you hurry past its home; it is too drowsy to investigate your presence further. The only sounds in the air are the chattering of sparrows in the branches above you and the soles of your shoes, moving quickly across the sidewalk. The wonder in the world is more palpable to you today than it’s ever been.

Soon, the chalk-written menu and hand-carved wooden sign of your favorite café come into view, and you open the door. There are only a few customers inside, and you spot your person right away: his long, dark hair partially pinned back, his figure flattered by a black long sleeve and jeans. He has a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, as well as two drinks on the table before him: one caramel latte and one black milk tea.

When he hears the door jingle, he looks up, and the smile that melts across his face is so fond that you can’t believe there was ever a time when you doubted his feelings for you.

The way his loving smile mirrors onto your face is as inevitable and involuntary as destiny herself.

“Hi,” Felix says, rising from his seat.

“Hey, you,” you answer. “Wanna take a walk?”

And so you do.

You link arms, as always; you try each other’s drinks, as always; you manage to talk about everything and nothing all at once, as always. But when his company building comes into view, your footsteps come to a halt, and your hand fastens around the cuff of his sleeve.

“Hey, Lix—"

When his eyes meet yours, the sun hits them just right, and you have not known anything as clearly and certainly as you do right then.

“—I love you.”

Felix can only stare, his eyes so wide that you can see the whites of them all around, his straw falling from his parted lips.

Then, a smile starts to creep across his face like spilt syrup.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Lee Yongbok.”

He sets his bag and drink down on the pavement. “Again, please.”

“I love you,” you repeat, starting to laugh. “I love you, I love you, god, I love you, Felix, so fucking much—”

Felix brings his hands to either side of your face, leaning his forehead against your own. And this time, there is no hesitation, no fear—only starlight when he tilts your chin up and finally, finally presses his lips to yours.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, hordes of them flapping so fervently you feel as though you might take off into the air, but you seek out his elbows, then his shoulders, and then the back of his neck, anchoring yourself to the earth, to him. Felix kisses you like he will never be able to again, and it is all you can do to savor how the curve of his smile feels against your own; how he murmurs the words “I love you, too” in between breaths. He tastes like sugar and smells like shampoo. He feels like forever.

2K notes · View notes

sailoryooons · 1 year ago

Text

Fang Daddy | knj (m)

☾ Pairing: Vampire!Namjoon x fledgling! F. reader

☾ Summary: Ever since Namjoon turned you into a vampire, there is only one thing that you crave more than blood. Good thing your sire is more than happy to indulge in his sweet little vampire fledgling.

☾ Word Count: 3,801

☾ Genre: PWP, Supernatural, Vampires, Established Relationship

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Explicit sexual content, blood sharing, depictions of blood, feral fucking, vaginal fingering, nipple play, biting and a lot of teeth and spit and blood they’re vampires, a lot of carnal feelings, dom/sub themes, oral (f. receiving) cum eating, obnoxious use of the word daddy, subspace implications/descriptions, bodily fluids, a lot of feral thinking, explicit language, vaginal sex (reader on top), a bit rough, light degradation, reader is super needy, use of ‘good girl’ I think that’s it.

☾ Published: October 12, 2023

☾ A/N: This is a pseudo-request because @kithtaehyung and I are unhinged and somehow this is where we ended up. I am not responsible for literally anything this might awaken inside of you because this is actually what Namjoon speaking/existing awakens inside of me - and I made it Halloweenie. This is just straight-up feral sex I don’t even know if it makes sense in parts. This is mostly unedited!

☾ A/N 2: Mildly inspired by this video

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Haliween Requests

“Everything okay, baby?” Namjoon’s rough voice comes through the phone. You squirm, feeling your stomach tighten. “Talk to me.”

Even the sound of his voice makes the air in the room feel thick. Heady. You can hear everything so clearly on his side of the phonecall: party noise, loud voices, the sounds of clicking champagne glasses and laughter. He tries to muffle the sound of the party, but your hearing is sharper now. Better.

You imagine Namjoon standing in the corner of the party, phone tucked to his ear, head bent down as he murmurs into the receiver. A shiver ripples through you and you can’t help but make a soft sound. The sheets in his bed are too hot against your skin, feeling staticky as you slide your legs open. You haven’t made a move to touch yourself but just the imagery of him makes your core ache.

Namjoon hears you, of course. His hearing is too sharp not to. He hums, almost a growl in the back of his throat. “Is that why you called me, baby?”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t been gone that long.”

You stick your bottom lip out. A tingling sensation spreads over your skin from the tone of his voice. When he answered, he had sonded concerned. He’d only been gone for about two hours, nothing serious. But now, his voice has shifted. It’s darker, teasing.

“What do you need?”

“You.”

It’s an honest answer. The only one that you ever have, these days. With the way your senses have been heightened since Namjoon has turned you, all you can think about his him. The smooth, warm skin of his neck. The spicy sent of his cologne and natural musk of his skin. His deep, throaty laugh as he lets you nuzzle into him, dig into him, do whatever you want.

Blood lust keeps you from going to parties with him. You’re not ready. Not this early, and certainly not with Namjoon, who acts like a natural sparkplug for you. Even with him in the same room, your instincts and rational thought blur the line between beast and person.

“Yeah?” he asks. Cocky. Assured. You roll to the side, hiding your face in the pillow. “Want me to come come and take care of you?”

You nod, but he can’t see you. He hums a question and you open your mouth, feeling the throbbing in your gums intensify at the thought of him coming home. “Please.”

“Okay. Give me twenty minutes, alright?”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you… what?”

You feel the heat creep up your neck, a blooming inferno of pleasure and embarrassment and shyness all wrapped up into a smooth little cocktail. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Anything for you baby.” Just as you go to hang up, Namjoon adds in a warning, “Don’t you dare touch yourself without me.”

Even giddy from the threat, you listen to him. Instead of toeing the line of how far you can push him, you lay in bed like a good little fledging. Before you were turned, being stubborn with Namjoon was one of your favorite things to do. He’s not quick to anger, he has all the time in the world for your shenanigans, and he is more than happy to wait until you behave yourself.

Wait is no longer in your vocabulary. Vampirism comes along with life-changing traits. Better hearing, smell, and site. You’re much faster and you don’t need sleep as much - and according to Namjoon, eventually won’t need it at all. You’re nearly invincible, and once you pass the blood phase, you can return to mixing in a normal diet with your A Positive drinks.

But something you didn’t expect was sensation. Everything feels more. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally. Music moves through you differently, bringing you to tears as you hear notes and sounds you’ve never noticed before. Skin-to-skin touch drives you wild, like your outer layer of flesh has become a minefield of nerve receptors, sparking at the slightest touch.

It is overwhelming and addicting, and you’ve learned right away that making Namjoon punish you for flirting with rebellion will drive you into hysterics faster than it will drive you to pleasure.

So you wait, just like he asked.

Hot air clings to your skin. Temperature eventually won’t bother you, but you’re still a fledging. With each day, things that were normal as a human will fade. Some things - like the eating - will return. For now, you feel flustered and shaky, knowing Namoon is coming home.

Your Namjoon. Your boyfriend. And sire.

Namjoon explained the convoluted relationship between sire and fledging only once. You have barely listened, to fixate on the bass thumping beat of the pulse in his neck. It isn’t uncommon for fledglings to be attached to their sires, especially since the vampire’s blood flows through the veins of their newly turned companion.

Plus, it’s easier to drink from Namjoon than from a person. Blood bags work fine. Deer work better. But when Namjoon lets you sink your teeth into his tender flesh to taste his most recently meal is divine, driving you somewhere between hunger and lust, trying to straddle both.

When the door to the loft opens, you sag in relief. Sweat beats on the back of your neck as you sit up a little in bed. Pillows prop you up. You’re in one of his shirts, the fabric soft and smelling like him, reaching to your mid-thigh.

Seeing him ignites your instincts, gasoline to a flame. Your fangs prick at your gums, the ache intensifying as you feel them slide out gently, prodding your tongue lightly. Your breathing quickens and your eyes zero in on him, unable to tear your eyes away.

He looks good tonight. He looks good always, but the way the turtle neck hugs the wide frame of his body makes your mouth salivate, drool pooling on your tongue. His arms ripple under the dark fabric as he stands by the door, shuffling his shoes off.

The dark shirt is tucked into perfectly tapered black dress pants, showing off his perfect waist. Namjoon’s dark hair is styled back and out of his face. The silver hoop in his right ear catches the moonlight when he turns to look at you, full lips spreading into a grin.

Namjoon rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. Your eyes dart to the smooth, tan ski no his forearms. You can already smell the blood pumping through him. It’s hot. Fresh. Your fingers grip the sheets as you sit up eagerly, realizing he must have fed just for you. To let you drink.

His gait is smooth and casual. You say nothing as you stare at him. He crosses the spacious, warehouse-style loft until he’s standing in front of the bed, looking down at you, a pile in the sheets and blankets.

Slowly, Namjoon dips his gaze down to the apex of your thighs, which are squeezed shut and shaking. Every hair stands up on the back of your neck as Namjoon puts a single knee onto the mattress. It sinks under his weight and he leans forward, hand brushing your knees to ease your legs open.

Your legs slide against the fabric unde you smoothly, feeling like heavy. It flusters you, but not nearly as much as Namjoon looking at your dripping folds, nostrils flaring. He smirks and meets your gaze, his eyes dark as ever.

“Let me see your hands.”

You untwist them from the sheets and hold them up. He leans forward more catching your fingers to twist them in the light. Your eyes flutter shut at the spark of his touch, pleasure rippling through you. It makes you go pliant. His tough fingertips turn your hands this way and that, every brush of them against your skin making you burn.

“Good girl,” Namjoon croons. You open your eyes as he drops your hands. Belatedly, you realize he was checking to see if you’d touched yourself and left signs of stickiness on your fingertips. He crawls onto the bed properly, shuffling until he’s on his knees between your legs. “Does it ache?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

Letting your head fall to the side, you close your eyes. Your pussy pulses between your legs, desire so raw for him that you have to clench your teeth to stop from crying. Namjoon’s hand skim up and down your thighs, each stroke sending you further into a pent up craze. Your heart thunders against your chest, louder and louder until you can hear your own blood rushing through your body, hunger spiking.

When you open your eyes, you meet Namjoon’s. It’s quiet in the room. Your tongue runs over the tips of your fangs. They pinch tender flesh and you open your mouth a little, flashing Namjoon your pearly little incisors.

Namjoon’s gentle hands turn to blunt nails scraping down your thighs. “What do you want?”

“Daddy.”

“Need to be taken care of?” You nod, head starting to get cloudly with want.

It’s hard like this. To figure out how to articulate. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth and your gaze is trapped on his neck. The subtle pulse drags you in. You don’t think in words so much as images and feelings. Brief flashes of what you want to do as an idea more than a thought.

Stuck between giving in to a primal instinct and being a thought-processing human leaves you in a stretch of grey that only Namjoon knows how to navigate for you. Because he knows you and what you need. Knows just what to do to get you through it.

“I’ve got you, baby.” He grips the bottom of your shirt - his shirt - and pulls upward. The scrape of the cotton against your skin is like fire. “You remember how to tell me when it’s too much?”

Too much is very likely to happen. It has before. When the thoughts, the feelings, and the sensations are so overwhelming that it suddenly feels like you will blink out of existence.

“Yes, daddy.”

The nickname drips from your tongue like nectar. You don’t remember when you started calling him that, only that it feels good and that you like the way his mouth twitches upward when you say it. Like the way it makes him a little more feral.

“Tell me.”

“Indigo.”

Cool air pebbles your nipples. You shiver, exposed, and splay out for him. His dark eyes drink you in. Twisting your fingers in the sheets, you watched with hooded eyes, feeling the arousal drip drip drip between your legs.

Namjoon’s hands are like embers as he traces your skin. Up your legs, hips, stomach, fingers tracing under the swells of your breasts. His fingers stroke upward, dizzying touch circling your nipples gently. It hurts. The ache for him is deep, your mouth falling open to reveal your fangs as you hiss.

His mouth twitches as he lowers himself down. The anticipation makes you suck in a sharp breath, holding it trapped until it comes out in a long, wined whine as Namjoon’s tongue flicks at your hardened nipple.

Immediately your hands shoot up to his arms. He doesn’t mind, letting you dig your nails into his shirt as he sucks generously at your tit, sending you wild. The sensation is overpowering. You feel a ringing in your ears as you press your chest up into his mouth.

More more more more.

You don’t realize you’re babbling, saying the words out loud until he’s laughing, dark voice vibrating through your skin as he kisses his way to your other nipple.

“More?” he asks. “You know how to ask.”

“Please,” you gasp, feeling the tip of his tongue apply the barest pressure imaginable. “Please, it hurts.”

Namjoon’s fangs scrape sensitive flesh. It makes you sing, squeezing your eyes shut as you pant through what is barely the beginning of intimacy. You’re already woozy and preening and light-headed and he knows it. Maybe takes a little pity on you.

Normally, Namjoon likes to take his time. Now, he moves with more urgency. He dives in for your neck, plying your skin with wet, generous kisses as he does. You bare your neck for him, pliant and obedient, knowing that your artery is there for the taking if he wants to.

Blood sharing is intimate between vampires. Even sires rarely share blood with their fledglings the way Namjoon does. It’s only done between the most precious of partners, between two vampires ready to consume one another. To be one another.

Anything less would be an act of cruelty or desperation, and this is neither.

Namjoon doesn’t bite down, though. He slides his hand between your legs, fingers brushing against your sticky folds to relieve some of the tension. You whimper, nodding your head to unasked questions as his fingers lazily trace circles around your clit.

Pleasure ebbs and flows, your blood rushing. You can feel your heart thundering in your chest as he kisses his way up to your mouth, stealing your lips in a searing kiss. It’s all tongue and fangs, the wet slide of his lips against yours messy and carnal and hungry.

Your hips roll into his hand as Namjoon plays with your cunt properly. You’re relentless, rolling your hips into the palm of his hand, pressing your swollen clit against him for friction. It’s a messy slide but it feels so good, brows pinched, mouth open as you pant.

Namjoon sinks a finger into your throbbing entrance and you go mad. Your nails rake down his sleeves, tearing fabric as you go. Your legs shake, muscles squeezed tight as he fucks his fingers up into you, meeting your sloppy thrusts.

It’s feral and heated, driven purely by the inferno burning in your stomach. Namjoon catches your earlobe between his fangs, dragging the sharp points across soft flesh. You let out a loud, wanton sound, unable to control yourself.

Shaking. Sweaty. Deteriorating. This is what he does to you with just his hands. His fingers press into your cunt, hitting your spot each time. It feels like pandemonium, walls clenching down on his fingers as you start to come loose around him.

“Fuck you’re a mess,” he growls, nipping your jaw as you frantically chase an orgasm. The wet slap of his fingers is loud, backtracked by your shaky breathing. “Fucking my hand like a little whore.”

“Daddy,” you mumble, eyes rolled back. You know it’s depraved. You don’t care. You just want him. Anyway you can have him.

Namjoon knows. His mouth goes to your neck. Your breath hitches, waiting as the flat of his tongue laps against your pulse point. When he bites down, you unravel.

Pain and pleasure unfurl, white-hot. You gush around his fingers, body convulsing. The warmth at your neck sedates you momentarily, knocking you into a state of bliss. Your head spins and it feels like you’re everywhere and nowhere all at once, not even breathing.

Namjoon takes long draughts. You feel his tongue pressed against your punctured skin. Feel the hot, slow bead of blood dripping down your neck to your shoulder. Every nerve is on fire and alive.

“Want,” you gasp. Namjoon removes his mouth from your neck. You feel the blood running, sticky. “Want want want want want.”

Namjoon kisses you. He tastes like blood, tongues tangling. You suck his tongue into your mouth generously, making him moan deep in his throat. The sound of him drives you further. You surge upward, seeking and hungry, hands tearing. He snarls when you rip off the shirt but he has others. Nothing is more important than him - than this.

Warm skin meets your hands. Vampires recently fed aren’t cold at all, their skin burning with fresh blood and heat trapped between you. Your fingers explore the taught muscles of his chest, the dips in his biceps and shoulders. Namjoon is a work of art, towering over you as he sits up to kick off his pants, movements blinding.

Your hands don’t remain still, grabbing any part of him you can, mouth latching on. You suck at his wrist, forearm, bicep. Anything you can taste, your mouth is there, searching. You don’t bite, though. Not until he lets you. Not until you have his permission.

Namjoon ducks between your legs. You gasp, feeling his tongue eagerly sliding up your folds. Your hands shoot to his hair, locking in his silky strands as he drinks you down.

It's feverish. Your feet kick out as Namjoon ravishes you, tongue plunging into your cunt, mouth sucking greedily on your clit. The stimulation is maddening, sending you shrieking toward another high.

He doesn't stop, smacking his lips together, licking, gasping, pressing his face further and further until he's shoving you up the bed, tongue buried inside of you.

Namjoon sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking over the swollen bud. You squeal and crash down, orgasm washing through you as you come into his mouth.

He devours, tongue lapping, mouth sucking. He leaves nothing spared, and when he finally pulls away, panting and shining with cum and blood, the bottom half of his face slick and eyes blown, you know that you'll never want someone else. Anything else.

The world spins when Namjoon lifts you. You blink and he’s under you, his thick cock leaking onto his stomach. Your mouth waters as he settles you in his lap, his back against the pillow. Namjoon looks like a dark god, his sweaty hair falling into his dark eyes, mouth kissed with crimson, tan skin glowing.

Your hands go to his face, cradling his jaw. For a second, your touch is soft. Nestled in his lap, you trace the outline of his jaw, brushing your fingers to wet lips. He is yours. You are his. In body, soul, and blood. His gaze softens, as though he sees this too.

“Mine,” you murmur, thumb pulling at his bottom lip. Your gaze meets his. “Right, Daddy?”

“Yours,” he agrees, lifting your hips with one hand and stroking his cock with the other. He settles you over the dark tip and you shiver, head tilting back. “And you are mine.”

In a single, fluid motion, Namjoon spears you on his shaft. You let out a shriek, pleasure bolting through you. You feel full, gasping as you’re fully seated in his lap. Namjoon doesn’t wait for you to adjust, pulling you in to lay against his chest as he plants his feet on the bed, fucking up into you.

You go mute. Your body slides against his, your chest pressed against his, your face buried in his neck. You can smell the blood there, and hear the beating pulse like a siren’s call. Drink drink drink.

You wait, completely distracted by the way Namjoon thrusts into you, jostling your frame into his. His arms are wrapped tight around your waist, your knees digging into the bed. He gives and you just take, eyes rolling back in your head, blood running down your neck, mouth slack.

Despite his ferocity, it’s intimate. You feel every breath Namjoon takes. Feel his thighs flex underneath you, feel the way your arousal slides down your legs onto his waist as he fucks you. It’s feral but it’s different, a tether of emotion that goes deeper than anything you could perceive as a human snapping between you.

Namjoon slides down the bed a little. Changes the angle so that he’s hitting you deeper, harder. You clench your teeth, barely hanging on to your sanity as you wait for him to give you permission to bite him. Your mouth salivates at the thought, his blood roaring in your ears.

You roll your hips into him. It’s a little disjointed but it works, sliding along his cock as he drives you closer and closer to the high roaring inside of you. It’s so close you can feel it burning, nova under your skin. Only Namjoon can do this to you, lighting you up until you’re burning so hot you can’t take it.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. No thoughts trespass here. It is only the shivering pleasure as Namjoon relentlessly takes you, growing. You scoot your face toward his neck, nose pressed against hot skin. You’re trembling, completely at his fingertips.

Waiting. Waiting.

“Go ahead, baby,” he grunts, fingers digging into the globes of your ass. “You’ve been so good.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice barely audible even to your sensitive ears. “Thank you.”

Finally, you indulge. You open your mouth against Namjoon’s neck, soft and tentative. Your tongue sweeps across salted, hot skin. You whine, feeling his pulse beating under the tender skin. Your fangs scrape against him and he moans, arms tightening around you.

And then you bite down.

Namjoon moans. You lose yourself in the sweet taste immediately, like cherry wine rushing into your mouth. Rapture. You drink slowly. Soft. Gulping as your veins ignite. Every atom lights up along the way, until you’re a vibrating mass of energy.

It’s like threads of awareness connect you. You feel Namjoon’s burning desire, his hunger for you. The deep-rooted adoration and love for you, a river that runs down to his marrow. You bathe in it, letting the connection wash over you.

Blood sharing gives you glimpses to Namjoon that you normally don’t see. Flashes of the way he sees you, his heart fluttering. Snatches of seeing something at a store that reminds him of you. The way you taste to him, the way he wants to hold you and never let go.

It’s so much.

You don’t take much. You know your limit, and as your thoughts start to black out, you remove your mouth, gasping. Your head falls to Namjoon’s shoulders, eyelids fluttering. Your stomach coils on the edge of another orgasm so strong that you just let it happen. Let it slam into you, a rogue wave.

The world blinks out of existence. There’s just the smell of Namjoon. The ghost of his mouth on your temple, and the softest feeling of floating. This is what you crave. The feeling of lightness with the accompanying touch of Namjoon. Because even in this space alone, there is a thread back down to him, a beacon to pull you back.

Slowly, you come back to him. You feel his heart beating against yours. You move your head, nuzzling into him. You feel flaky, dried blood but you don’t care, nuzzling into him. Your Namjoon. His arms are steady around you like a cocoon.

You have never been safer. More loved.

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice raspy.

“Always.”

You settle in comfortable silence, wrapped up in one another. Nothing will ever beat this. A thousand lifetimes with Namjoon is all you ever need to do this as many times as you want.

“You okay?” you nod against him. Your fingers slide up his neck and face to card through his hair, playing with the strands. Your eyes are still closed, enjoying the sound of his heartbeat. “Good.”

“A little needy.”

“You? Needy? Unheard of.” he teases.

You grin. The carnal desire from earlier washes away, fed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s really hot.” You hum, continuing to play with his hair but saying nothing. “I’m kind of like your fang daddy, huh?”

Your hand pauses and you crack an eye open. Namjoon is grinning up at the ceiling, eyes turned to crescent moons as he tries not to laugh at his joke. Gone is the dark, powerful vampire, replaced by the sweet, boyish man that you love just as much.

“Namjoon,” you chastise, tugging his hair a little.

He giggles. “How about fang father?”

You sigh. “Whatever you want. Anything you want.”

He kisses your temple and lets you fall asleep.

#namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #namjoon fic #kim namjoon fic #bts smut #bts fic #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #minors do not interact #mindors dni #haliweeen #vampire namjoon

812 notes · View notes

stormblessed95 · 3 months ago

Text

Watching Are You Sure?! EP 3

A reminder of how I do these reaction posts as I watch things. I just write my reactions and thoughts down literally they happen. Think more of a bullet point format. I'll include links when I can to videos, thanks to the people who twt who upload clips. And at the end, I'll do a better wrap up of all my opinions. I hope everyone enjoyed the show so far!!

It's Chuseok right after their trip, so they went and filmed this at the end of September 2023

JK was so sassy about Tae inviting himself along for their Jeju trip! Lol

Jikook singing along to Vs Slow Dancing 🥺🥺🥺

Not my baby Jimin already having a stomach ache 5 minutes into the episode! We just got here and it's already travel sickness round 2?! 😅😂

Jimin yelling at Taekook to go inside while he is still in the car. Just to turn around and claim abandonment lmfao. He is just like me for real. I hope the fresh air helped him feel a little better. And JK immediately ordering Pork Cutlets, one of Jimins favorites, as soon as he gets inside is just 🥺🥺

Jimin finally coming in and JK pulling a whole "oh my God, my crush is here" type of routine. Lmao boy, the hair tucking, the giant smile. Boy, stand-up!Istg they are perfect!

Caressing Jimin's thigh as soon as he sits down talking about the "view" being so beautiful 😍😏

And Tae just fawning over Jimin being cute as soon as he enters too? Lol Jimin really has these men wrapped around his finger!

Not Tae going oh we do this stuff all the time. And JK and Jimin going "bro then leave!!" Lmfao you chose to be here Tae! Enjoy your time with your besties!

Tae getting fish and Jimin asking if he should take the bones out for him 🥺😍 that's his baby! Lmfao and JKs immediate "no" 😂🤣 no one asked you Jungkook! I too, don't like de-boning anything, I need a friend like Jimin 😂

It was giving perilla leaf, not going to lie 😂😂 Jimin babying his best friend and Jimins boyfriend being like "that's a whole grown man, excuse me?!" Is the vibes being given here. And I love it 😂

Me being sat and riveted for Jimins de-boning lesson knowing I will never do this myself. Because I'm a #spoiledbitch

The way he just info dumps too 😂

JK just stimming and loving his food so hard! And I love how vmin just let him do his thing. Baby is so loved 🥰😍 it really makes my heart so happy

Jimin making a ssam for Tae just for him to leave and Jimin to chase him running and giggling down the street, even losing his shoes, to make him eat it 😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣 why are they like this? Lmao!!

JK just collecting his boyfriends shoes for him too. Lol and Tae coming back and eating as soon as Jimin tells him he doesn't have shoes. Lol he is so loved.

(x is so loved is clearly going to be the theme of my post here!)

Vmin driving in the car all leaned into each other. I love them. So freaking much. Them singing Seven and Arson too. BTS forever supporting BTS!

Jimin saying "let's take pictures together later" and Tae going "couple pictures?" Lmfao 🤣🤣🤣

Jimin having to talk Tae through how a drive through works 😂😂 my baby? How is this new to you? Lollll Jimin is suchhhh a caretaker 😍

And the way he makes sure JK stops and is hydrated too! He loves so hard!

"I'm fine!" "Im not!" That was so boyfriend, my god

"Jhope would've loved this. Ah, I miss him." God me too!

JK always going along with whatever skit or roleplay Jimin or Vmin start doing. Lmfao Jimin being like "oh, did you see his tattoos?!" Yeah, we get you 🤣

Jimin caring in JKs bag for him into the house 🥰

The 3 of them cuddling and laying on the floor together 🤣😂 before the cut to crazy head banging and Jimin having a stomach ache again 🤣 what a tonal shift lol

I'm obsessed with the pull back from touching that keeps happening. In all 3 episodes. One person on Twitter called it "controlling your habits" and I'm just ughhhhhh just hold hands 😭😭😭

Jimin singing 3D!

JK shooting Jimin in both the ass and the crotch with the water gun 😅🤣😂 the caption being an innocent 5 year old.... Lol not sure that was super innocent, but he was certainly giggly and having fun 😂 Tae also joining in and shooting Jimin, but only a few times in the ass, mostly on his back 😂 and the way Jimin just laid there and took it lmfao

The way JK watched over Jimin briefly while he was napping on the floor. That stare, those heart eyes 😍

Taekook being the absolute cutest puppies in the pool 🥰😍

Taekook drop the cuddly selca!!

JK jumping up to play as soon as he heard Jimin 😂 they are so cute! Why did they cut the entirety of Jikook playing upstairs? 👀😂

Followed by the mini wrestling match of taekook vs Jimin over the water guns and being shot again 😂

"you look pretty. You really look pretty" Jungkook please! My Jikook 🥺🥺

The distance Jungkook got with every skip in that parking lot man. Lol he is super human!

How many Jimin-ssi's did we hear in like 30 seconds when Jikook were climbing that wall together? Lmfaooo in that tone too? They like each other's muscles when watching each other climb. I get it 😂

"Jiminah, I'll show you I'm not the kid I used to be" "yeah, you are an adult now" 😂😂 Vmin lol I love Jimins dry sense of Humor too 😂😂

This whole climbing/go cart section felt very Run BTS esque lol bringing back those vibes for a moment here. Including JKs giant ass smile whenever Jimin starts messing with him or fake boxing him. That happened so often in Run

The way JK and Tae's faces immediately dropped as soon as they noticed Jimin was bleeding. There really is so much care there even when they are silly. JK saying that Jimin always gets hurt when they travel and breaks his heart 🥺🥺

"Going in order" with Jimin, Tae then JK on the go carts. I appreciate the editors acknowledging and feeding my Jimin is the hyung enjoyment 🥰

JK saying "how immature, all hung up on competing" boy you just feel left out! Lmfao because competition is at your core 😂

The way Jungkookie was looking at Jimin when Vmin were praising him 🥺🥰

Tae recording himself instead of Jimin being silly 🤣

I don't think anyone understands how much I love them and adore them.

Wrap up thoughts:

Hyung Jimin moments give me life and this episode had me well fed. He takes SUCH good care of the people he loves, and taekook in particular. He really has those men wrapped around his finger too. The love shared there is so so special and I'm so tickled anytime I get to witness it.

I also just wish for more peaceful episodes for Jimin! I'm curious how the next Jeju episode will go because after Connecticut, where they didn't have a choice but to talk about his stomach bug, they clearly were going to try and cut those moments out at first but it was so bad they couldn't. But it seemed like they are now low-key leaning into Jimins struggles as a bit with the cuts and edits now. Like it's part of the silliness of the show. Regardless, I do hope he feels better faster and doesn't get sick in Sapporo too! My poor baby 🥺😭🥰

Even with Jimin feeling sick, he still appeared to be at the center of that trio. Even when taekook were playing, they were doing so in a way that revolved around Jimin, constantly getting out to go annoy him. JK shooting him with the water gun to soak his pants in the dick and ass area was a special kind of stupid horny boy humor 😂 the way the editors covered it up (even sometimes with just camera angles) after his pants were soaked too, I know that outlines had to be on DISPLAY. Which I wouldn't be surprised if that was either one of the goals or just a nice reward for JK 😂 Poor Jimin. At least they let him nap in peace eventually!

We know Jimin did get in the pool with them at some point since they have promo shots in the water together. I'm looking forward to seeing that next episode! Or I'm going to be salty with Hybe for not giving us any of that footage! Lol

Jikook also had much larger suitcases than Tae did, who was also already there on vacation with his other friends. Did Jikook stay longer than Tae did or was it because we know they went to Busan shortly after to visit family too? It's really nice knowing that Jikook spent an extended trip together to their hometown also even if we didn't really get to know about it or see anything from it

The more hyungs that are around, the more maknae-esque our Jungkookie gets. Lol it was so cute. It IS an interesting aspect of Jikooks dynamic though, the inclusion of others and how that changes how they behave. It absolutely gives them an air of "us" at times. I know y'all know what I mean. It also highlights how much more they behave as equals, chingus, "them," when they are alone too. Because that is such an unusual dynamic and they've normalized it so much we barely blink at it anymore and some people don't even notice. He was very baby with his hyungs this episode whereas in USA, he took the lead with Jimin alot, which I did mention in my posts over those episodes.

He also was incredibly bratty and sassy in many moments of these episodes. Jimin even called him on it once 😂 this would've been the time that they had just applied for the buddy system together. And I think as much as they miss their members when they aren't there, JK also was looking forward to spending alone time with Jimin and the quick plan changes right before the trip happened put him in extra brat mode 😂😂 you could tell he was excited and happy to have Tae there though to play with. Those two had so much fun together and it was nice JK had a goof off buddy while Jimin wasn't feeling good. It also gave Jimin a much needed break I think from feeling pressure to entertain even when he wasn't feeling his best.

There were some soft and really cute moments in the first two episodes, but while there was so much chaotic energy in this episode, between Jikook, there was almost more softness. Like they save the bickering for home when they are out with others 😂 all the little touches and fondness killed me.

The cuts were horrendous this episode. Lol this was one example and there are a million more.

The episode timeline was cut all over the place. Lol so many conversations had music cut over them so we couldn't hear, so many continuity errors due to cuts. Like part of me gets it, but why was it so bad?!

Plus I'm sad we missed out on most of what was shaping us to be a Jikook wrestling match over the water guns. Oh the fanfic that'll inspire 😂 if they don't give it to us in the behinds, it's going to look incredibly suspicious 😂😂

It's also crazy to think about how this was Jikooks second trip to Jeju together. Think they went together before to scout out things they wanted to do together and enjoy the minor smaller vacation together sans cameras? Just like how they went back to the restaurant in NY alone before going back home. I really love that for them.

Sorry for only getting this post out like a week late! At least it's done before episode 4! Lol hope you all are loving AYS and having fun with it!

#jikook #kookmin #jikook are you sure #jikook travel show #jikook in 2023

110 notes · View notes

luvrkay · 1 year ago

Text

Okay so I saw THIS on instagram and now I can’t get Jungkook off my mind. It’s not exactly the same thing but it’s similar

I was not supposed to write for BTS on here😭😭 but Jungkook is just so fucking fine that I couldn’t help myself😩😩

(also he's so boyfriend coded that it makes no fucking sense)

“And you never fucking listen to me!” You scream at Jungkook. Your back is facing him so you miss the way he lets his eyes lazily drag over your figure, taking his pierced lip between his teeth.

He’s just so entranced by you that he doesn’t even realize you’re no longer angrily scrubbing the plate that you once had in your hands, or the fact that your walking over to him, snapping your freshly manicured fingers in front of his face.

“Helloooo! You’re not even listening to me now!” You stomp, arms crossed over your chest, eye’s narrowed.

He doesn’t even bother responding, instead he lets his fingers find the waistband of your shorts and he pulls you flush against his chest, his lips smashing into yours.

“M’sorry jagi. I do listen to you, I promise, it’s just you’re so fucking beautiful that I can’t help but get a little distracted” he mumbles against your lips. He pulls you in for another kiss, this one slower, more passionate.

“Let me make it up to you” you’re nodding against his lips, feeling heat pool in your core as you jump into his arms when he taps the back of your thighs twice. Your legs wrap around his waist as his hands find your ass, squeezing softly as he leads you to the bedroom.

He tosses you on the bed before pulling his shirt above his head and tossing it somewhere in the room. you're eyes rack over his toned chest as Jungkook climbs between your legs, helping you out of your shirt and adding it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

He groans when he sees your bare tits, kissing you again as his hands find your boobs, nimble fingers flicking against your hard nipples. He slowly kisses his way from your jaw down to your chest, leaving hickey’s in his wake.

He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud as his fingers pinch and twist the other one. He releases your nipple with a pop, before doing the same thing to the other one.

His hands have already pushed your shorts and panties down your legs, letting them drop down onto the floor below. His fingers swiping through your already wet folds, gathering your slick on his fingers and using it to rub slow, teasing circles on your clit.

Your hips grind up involuntarily, desperate for more pressure to your aching clit. “Please” you whine out, fingers tangled in Jungkook’s silky black strands, his tattooed arm pushing your legs apart. You lay back, letting your back hit the sheets below you.

Jungkook uses two fingers to spread your folds, flicking his tongue back and forth against your puffy clit. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pushing his face deeper into your cunt and you grind your hips up against his face. You moan out when you feel two of Jungkook’s fingers prodding at your entrance, before they’re stretching out your gummy walls.

Your back arches off the bed when he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking harshly. Broken sobs fall from your lips as Jungkook curls his fingers, letting them hit your g-spot with each flick of his wrist.

He speeds up the pace, a third finger joining and your toes curl, moaning loudly as your orgasm washes over you. Jungkook continues to pump his fingers in and out of your soaked pussy, tongue still flicking against your clit as he helps you ride out your orgasm.

He gives you a few minutes to catch your breath, stripping himself of his pants and boxers, his long, hard cock slapping against his stomach before he takes it into his hand, stroking himself a couple of times before he kneels between your legs, rubbing his tip between your folds, letting it nudge against your clit.

He pushes the tip in, letting it stretch your out slightly before pulling out, he repeats the process two more times before thrusting in to the hilt with one swift motion.

Your nails claw at his back, eyes shut and mouth slightly ajar as Jungkook slowly rocks his hips, letting his cock drag deliciously against your walls.

“Fuck Koo, feels s’good” you moan out when Jungkook starts to move his hips, grunting deeply as he stares down as his cock disappers inside your cunt, watching the way your pussy swallows him whole.

Jungkook pushes one of your legs up, letting it rest on his shoulder as he fucks you deeper, harder. One of his hands find your clit, rubbing fast circles on the puffy nub as you feel your second orgasm approaching. “Gonna cum with me baby? Wanna feel you squeezin’ me as I fill you up”

You let out a whine at that, clenching tightly around him and he groans, pressing his lips to your neck, kissing one of the many marks he’s left on you.

“Fuck jagi, cum with me” he murmurs against your skin. He shoots his hot seed deep inside you seconds later when he feels you gush around him, walls clenching down even tighter.

Jungkook presses one last kiss to your lips before he slowly pulls out, dropped down on the bed next to you, breathing heavily.

#kay writes ✎#bts #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x black reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x reader #bts x black reader

1K notes · View notes

forthechubbies · 1 year ago

Text

Our Little Wife

~Princess Under House arrest~ Vol. VI

Mafia BTS x Chubby Wife Reader

Being Korea's deadliest kingpins made seven men into untouchable demons, yet their little wife is made out of sugar and spice?

⚠️Um? Yoongi is a warning on his own as well as (bad boy gone wrong) Jungkook. Hot makeout scene w/ long haired drunken yoongi🥵, Jin's a sweetheart beyond sweethearts, Vulgar Language, Manhandling, and Jungkook is a sexy hot head so watch out!☺

<- Sex Sells. V

Your nightgown caught your foot as you rushed to your vanity. You've been cleaned, patched, polish and pampered.

You looked beautiful, a barefaced beauty. A healthy glow to your skin, volume and fullness in your hair-gently brushing your fingers over your face you discovered your nails were fully manicured.

"What's going on?" You lifted your nightgown to find the same result, your toes matched your nails.

All was flawless beside the ache in your wrist, the only thing not tended too, grazing your fingers ghosted over the sore skin-

You hissed with an "Ouch." squeaking out of you.

The sight of Jimin, the very last person you laid eyes on, sent shivers down your spine. Memories came rushing back, overwhelming you with a flood of emotions. The cruel and heartless actions of your once beloved husband twisted your stomach into knots, leaving you feeling utterly disgusted.

Even more so, you shared concern for him, However you do believe that He got what he deserved before you passed out.

But the memories only caused more confusion. Why are you back home? the men knew Jimin? and that man who grabbed you. His eyes...they looked like Kookie's.

To yours and my surprise, One of your French doors was unlocked, You shivered at the numbing temperature and aura of the house, scrolling down the corridor, The wholesome family pictures successfully made you feel like a bit better.

"Kitten?" The echo of a deep male purr startled, Yoongi stood at arm's length he looked sloppy..his clothes were hanging of his figure, hair overgrown into a tousled bun dangling off his broad shoulders.

"Is this finally you? My kitten." He reeks of whiskey. Yoongi calluses grip your jaw bringing your face to his, You grip his button up to keep balance on your tippy toes. "Or I'm finally dying for alcohol poisoning and you're an angel sent to ease my pain as I pass on."

Speechless you stared into Yoongi's heated face to see a long open wound slashed down his right eye, the dried blood still staining his crimison cheek. "If so, Could you pity me a kiss for a heartbroken man." His voice deeply rumbled as he whispered to you before planting his lips on yours.

You gasped. "Yoongi-" ghosting your fingers around his eyes. "You're eye."

Yoongi's large hands ♡ swallowed your chubby waist tugging all of your weight on him. The Innocent kiss turned course following Yoongi's lead as he worked his tongue.

"Mm!" You squeaked against his lips.

His tongue tricks distracted you from those busy hands of his stroking up the curves of your nightgown. You found yourself sandwich between the wall and Yoongi not that you mind-

"Ya! You better not puke on my carpet again, Min Yoongi! Or I'm settling for a divorce." Jin cried, you can't see him but you could imagine the blood rushing to his ears. "Yoongi, if you feeling sick dead outside-" Jin's eyes meeting yours.

Jin's eyes grew three sizes. "Yoongi! You're being too rough-" A harsh shove knocked the wobbly drunken man to the wooden floor where he happily retired. "My princess, Are you hurt? Any of those scratches stinging." He checked you frequently.

Jin quickly settled down placing his large hands on your shoulders, his sorrowful eyes roamed down your nightgown. "Namjoon was right...I should have kept the door locked." He mumbled, the last part before freezing at the loud sound of his husbands coming home so soon..too soon.

In the panic of heavy boots headed up the main staircase, Jin shoved you through your door frame, repeatedly cooing apologies at you as you fell flat on your bum. " I'm so sorry, Daddy loves his princess." You hardly heard him over the door closing with a click. He locked it.

"Is she up yet?" Kookie...

You kept your ear to door.

"No,-" Jin lied. " She's still asleep." You could hear his knuckles whiting from his intense grip on the french door's golden handles.

"What?! It's been three days?! Aren't you fucking concerned-at all!?" Jungkook's satori boomed, startling you on the other side.

You never heard kookie raise his voice maliciously to anyone especially his older spouses.

Jin's temper boiled over much like your bunny's. A loud thump was heard through the wood then a pregnant silence. Jin disciplined Jungkook upside his head.

"How dare you speak to you like I'm one of those punks you beat up, You feral mutt-!"

In seconds, The tip of Jungkook's nose tap Jin's as a horrifying fire burned Kookie's eyes. "What the actual fuck did you just call me?!"

A sudden adrupt shove against the doors sent you hurling into your fluffy carpet once more as fatal squeak falls from your lips. As soon as the cute sound left your mouth, Jungkook released his assault on Jin's collar.

The silence between the two men was deafening til Jungkook broke it with a small whimper. "Creampuff?! Are you alright?!" Jungkook ripped Jin away from your door, swinging opening them open to find you, his startled Creampuff grasping on your nightgown for dear life.

My goodness. You gasped. Nevermind the fact, He completely broken the lock on the doors effortlessly. I don't even think it he realized yet.

Jungkook stood tall before your dumbfounded face, You can admit it's been sometime since you seen your husbands but these dramatic difference in appearance are not for the faint hearted, to yoongi new scar and long hair to Jungkook's entire existence at this point.

He too has quit cutting his hair leaving his to fall to his shoulders , mainly hiding a good some of his face and yet the little droplets shimmering off his tips enchanted you.

It must be raining horribly upon how drained he is.

Jungkook's heavy muggy boots destroyed your ivory carpet as he slowly walked towards your shaken figure in awe. "It's really you?" He breathed, dropping his knees on either sides of your thighs, leaning closer in your face. "It is you."

Your eyes can't stand to look away from the new tattoos decorating the left side of his neck, beautifully paired with the two addictions piercing his lip and eyebrow.

Is this your kookie?

#bts smut #bts x chubby reader #chubby reader #poly ot7 #yandere jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x chubby reader #yandere jungkook #bts mafia au #bts mafia fic #mafia au #yandere bts x chubby reader #mafia!bts #bts mafia series #dark bts

884 notes · View notes

bangtaninborderland · 2 years ago

Text

KNJ- Not so dinner date.

It’s late when you arrive home, the lights are off and the regular sounds of your boyfriend are null. You sigh as you shake off your jacket, sliding off your shoes only to replace them with house slippers.

The clock above the refrigerator is the only light in the kitchen and as dim as it is you don’t flick on a light, instead you slouch at the table snacking on the random fruits Namjoon had piled into a bowl.

The truth is you loved your boyfriend with your entire heart, there wasn’t ever a time when you felt as if you wanted to be away from him. Of course, his job as an idol was one that put distance between you, your own job not accommodating time for you to travel as often as he did but you still made it work.

“Baby?”

You almost jump out of your skin as you whip your head around to see him sulking towards you, his shoulders hunched over.

“I thought you were sleeping joonie, did I wake you?” You stood up, closing the space between you to wrap your arms around his middle.

You breathed in his smell, finding comfort in it. He had been addicted to this new rain forest scented fabric conditioner that Jungkook had introduced him to, he had explained to you for the hours BTS had to wait during music shows just how the different scents were drawn from different plants and trees and although you didn’t completely understand it you did your best to keep up.

“You didn’t wake me, I waited up. Do you want to order some food or did you eat?”

You shake your head reluctantly. “Joon it’s 11 pm, you have work tomorrow.”

“However could I work if I starved to death?”he groaned frantically, feigning a laugh.

You quirked an eyebrow. “You haven’t eaten?”

“I did. Sort of.”

“Ramen does not count.”

“I did not.”

“How about we order fried chicken?” You smile.

Your first date had been at a park with awful fried chicken that you had gotten from a definitely dodgy van. You had both gotten stomach aches and ended up being treated at the hospital for food poisoning, through your short but required hospital stay you were put next to each other and despite the way you were both doubling over in cramps every few minutes you made the most of the time with one another, learning as much as you could.

He leads you over to the couch, pulling you into his arms. “You really want fried chicken?”

“It’s fast, just chose a good place.” You shrug earning a playful pinch from him.

A lot of your firsts happened over the simple meal, your first fight had occurred over it. You had only been dating a few weeks and Namjoon had gotten extremely busy planning a comeback with his members, it had left you barely any time with the man responding once a day if you were lucky. He had hauled himself up into his studio for almost a week straight refusing to do anything other than work on music. You were worried when Taehyung, whom you had only met twice prior, had called to ask for backup. You had stormed into the hybe building holding a box of fried chicken from his favourite place, you punched the code into his studio earning a harsh reprimanding from him as you demanded he saved his work and step away from the computer. He had argued how you couldn’t understand his stress and how it wasn’t going to work out between you, he had told you to leave and that you were just like everyone else; misjudging him. You remember the way his jaw fell open as you threw a pillow straight at him mid-rant. Soon enough he sat beside you on his little couch and picked at his chicken before devouring it in minutes. You had forced him to take you home where you had a three-hour-long conversation that ended up in him falling asleep in your lap.

“I ordered, it will be here in a little.” He threw his phone against the table.

You run your hands through his newly dyed hair, you always loved how black hair looked on him. “How was work today baby?”

“We filmed a run episode and I nearly won.” He smiled pridefully. “When will you come next?”

“I have been given tomorrow and Friday off if you want me to come with you?” It wasn’t a complete lie, you had requested the days off in order to make time for him.

He pushes you back a little, allowing a clearer look at your face. “Really? That soon?”

You smile at him nodding. “I guess I got lucky.”

“I don’t have work tomorrow, though.”

“Then stay home with me?” You smile, placing a kiss to his lips.

He says nothing but affirms by kissing you back before pressing a few more to your forehead.

You sat talking about your days until the food came 25 minutes later. As always you had requested to have it left at the door, it was always safer that way. After waiting for the driver to place the food outside and to leave the building Namjoon snuck outside to grab it.

You help set it out on the table as he put on a random show. You ate In silence watching the tv until a thought crossed your mind that you had to resolve.

“Joon can I ask you something?”

He looks at you worried, pausing the TV before turning to you. “Anything.”

“Do you ever wish we were different people? Maybe just farmers or something..” you half-joked, pushing your almost-finished meal aside.

“If you want a farmer you should try Jin Hyung or Taehyung.”

You can’t help but laugh as he flashes you a dimpled smile. “No I haven’t, amidst all the stress and lack of time we have with one another I could ever imagine being with someone different.”

“Why?” You watch his face twist in thought.

He hums for a moment before responding. “I love you. I liked you and then I loved you and in that time I learned that I’d rather have one day with you than a hundred days with anyone else.”

You let the weight of his words settle before responding. “You know joonie we have a lot of firsts over fried chicken.”

“What’s the first this time?” He laughs pushing his own food away before leaning back against the couch.

You started. “I could come home to an empty house for the entirety of your tour but I wouldn’t have it any other way because my heart is with you always and I know for every day you go we will have a week to make up for it. I was scared at first, scared we wouldn’t work, that you’d get too busy and forget about me but it’s small moments like these that give me the most clarification on my wants for the future.”

“And what are those wants?” He holds your hand in between his, something he does to show he is paying the utmost attention to you.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to eat fried chicken with you at midnight even though we have to be awake at 6 am, I want to share the excitement of what trees have their DNA stolen to make up fabric softeners you like, I want to be the one to give you comfort and happiness along with my unbridled support.”

“I want to give you the world.” He says the words softly but you know there’s a weight that they bare. “And I will but for now can I have your last wing?”

You scoff shoving the man off the couch onto the floor. “Unbelievable.”

“Unbelievable enough that I can have your last wing?” He eyes your chicken box and you raise a threatening finger.

“Don’t you dare.”

Before you could say anything he had already grabbed the box and ran halfway through the house, you cursed his long legs for aiding his getaway.

“Touch my chicken and your Pokémon cards get it.” You threaten.

You can’t help but laugh at his footsteps slap against the tiled flooring. “LEAVE MY CARDS ALONE”

“Give me my chicken wing.” You hold your hand out, as he does the same. You hand over his extra large Pokémon folder as he does your chicken box.

“Hey?” He calls as you turn to head back to the couch, box in hand.

He grins at you, before holding his arms out, one hand bearing his folder and the other your chicken wing.

“KIM NAMJOON!” You throw yourself over the couch as he scurries off.

About twenty minutes of play fighting and chasing later you both collapse on the bed in a laughing bundle. “I can’t wait to tell Yoongi Hyung we wrestled over a chicken wing.” Namjoon giggled.

“He would be horrified.” Your eyes widened.

“He would, he would probably lecture us on why we should never eat fried chicken again.”

A bout of silence befalls you before a great idea comes to mind. “Let’s call him and tell him we broke up over fried chicken.”

“You have such a sexy brain. He will go insane.” He agreed rushing to grab his phone.

You smiled at the ceiling, memorising the events of your not-so-dinner date. This is exactly why you made it work, because even at midnight you could run around and laugh with him, you could have thorough discussions and most importantly you would both indulge e in listening and sometimes enacting your wildest thoughts. Even if it did mean annoying a poor Min yoongi over Fried chicken on a Wednesday night.

1K notes · View notes

soft-for-yoongi · 2 years ago

Text

Sick Tae-bear (vmin)

--------------------------------

Sick person: Taehyung

Caretaker: Jimin

Tw: emeto, vom*****, mentions of nausea, stomach pain, minor burping, stomach ache

Word count: 885

(Taehyung has an upset stomach. It doesn't take much for his soul mate, Jimin, to find out)

I actually really like this so I hope you enjoy 🫶🥹

--------------------------------

Jimin tuts in sympathy as he watches from the dining table, Taehyung washing the dishes and his face screwing up from some pain he's not telling him about. Jimin studies his best friend, the problem finally clicking when the younger removes a rubber glove to bring his hand to his middle, frowning miserably.

Jimin coos, feeling bad for his soul mate. Jimin stands up and walks over to the kitchen, coming behind Taehyung and wrapping his arms around his chest. "Hey Taehyungie." Jimin says, head resting on the latter's shoulder. "Hey Jiminie.." Taehyung replies, continuing with the dishes.

Jimin says nothing for a little before he lowers his arms from Taehyung's chest to his stomach, giving it a soft rub and finding the surface to be rounded and hard. "Tummy bothering you, Taetae?" Jimin offers and Taehyung puts down a plate. "Yeah... gosh Jiminie–I don't know what it is but my belly is really hurting.." Taehyung groans, stomach gurgling under Jimin's palm.

"Here, leave the dishes, I'll do them later and let's lie down, yeah?" Jimin suggests, breaking away from the back hug and they both depart from the kitchen and make their way to Taehyung's bed.

Taehyung curses the ache that plagues his entire middle as he slowly situates himself on his bed, trying not to disturb his stomach more. Jimin watches warily, concerned for Taehyung. Jimin follows Taehyung onto his bed and lays down next to the singer. "Lie on your back so I can rub your poor tummy." Jimin instructs and Taehyung complies.

He gets a cramp right when Jimin touches his middle and can't help but wince. "Am I hurting you, Taetae?" Jimin worries, pausing his movements. "No– just had a cramp." Taehyung clenches his jaw, resting his head back on his pillow. Jimin lifts up Taehyung's shirt gently, giving way for his hand to trace patterns on the sensitive middle. Jimin can feel how upset Taehyung's stomach is from the churning and bubbling sounds it's emitting.

Jimin presses down lightly on Taehyung's bloated stomach, causing him to burp. Taehyung covers his mouth and Jimin thinks for a second that he's about to vomit but he murmurs a quiet, "excuse me.."

"Oh Taehyung.. don't be embarrassed, here sit up. It sounds like you need to burp." Jimin says, giving Taehyung's exposed middle a tiny pat before helping his 95' member pull himself upright. Taehyung is greeted with a harsh contraction from the movement and he sucks in a sharp breath. "Relax, Tae-bear." Jimin smiles gently, beginning to rub large circles on Taehyung's back.

Taehyung closes his eyes and tries to focus on the ministrations. Jimin goes from the large circles to small tiny ones between Taehyung's shoulder blades. Taehyung feels his stomach swirling with trapped air and some makes it's way up. Taehyung's breath hitches before a burp forces itself out. "There we go." Jimin coos, seeing how Taehyung's cheeks go a cute shade of crimson.

Taehyung's stomach is still as hard and full as it was before and Jimin continues with the rhythmic rubbing, big to small circles. Taehyung chirps out a few more hiccuping burps, starting to worry as each one becomes wetter, bringing a sour taste. Jimin's got a crease of worry between his eyebrows and stills his hand.

"Hey, you okay Taetae?" Jimin brushes the brunettes hair out of his eyes. Taehyung swallows hard, "I feel like I'm gonna puke, Jiminie.." he sighs, hand to his middle. "Right now?? Hold on- let me get you something." Jimin rushes to grab a small bin tucked in the corner of Taehyung's bedroom.

Taehyung mumbles something but gets cut off by a gag, and Jimin shoves the bin into Taehyung's lap. "What's got your tummy so upset, Taehyungie?" Jimin ponders, rubbing the younger's back as a stream of spew leaves Taehyung's mouth. "I don—huurrkk—know." Taehyung responds, or tries to.

He feels his stomach lurch with each successful heave and Jimin clicks his tongue, "Breathe Taetae, take your time." Jimin presses a kiss to Taehyung's temple, massaging his nape. Taehyung's gags echo loudly in the bin, much like his sneezes that can shake a whole room.

Taehyung whines and groans, low vibrations in his throat before he dry heaves, spitting out saliva. Taehyung slips a hand under his shirt and holds his menacing middle. "Almost done, Tae-bear?" Jimin says gently. Taehyung stays quiet, eyes lulling shut as he tries to block the smell emitting from the bins contents.

Jimin runs his thumb over Taehyung's knuckles that grip the bin tightly. "I think my stomach has settled.. can you leave the bin here just in case? I feel like I'll throw up again—" Taehyung hiccups, lifting his head to look at his friend. "Of course, let me just change the bag." Jimin says, swiftly removing the plastic lining without making a face of disgust, despite the smell and appearance of the inside.

Taehyung slumps back, energy drained from the vomit-sesh. His arms feel empty without Jimin to hold onto, so he's glad Jimin comes back within a few minutes. "You're a clingy one, aren't you?" Jimin giggles playfully when the taller imidiantly wraps his arms around his waist.

Taehyung just nods, unable to deny. Who wouldn't want to cuddle with the sweet angel, Park Jimin? Exactly.

#bts #soft-for-yoongi writes #bts!sickfic #emeto #emeto fic #sick #sickfic #sick!taehyung #nausea #stomach ache #vmin #vomiting #bangtan #jimin #taehyung #im in love with park jimin #emeto mention #comfort

55 notes · View notes

m-jelly · 10 months ago

Text

@2moth-anon2 requested.

Warm

Levi x fem!reader

Modern AU, fluff, romance, married, smut, oral, body worship, unprotected, dirty talk, pet names.

For Levi's birthday, you went away to a cabin in the woods for some peace, but while there a blizzard hits and you have to hunker down and wait it out. While waiting, you decide to worship your husband's body and the two of you make love in front of the fire.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

The cracking of the fire and the loud wind of the snowstorm outside were all forgotten because the heat, soft sighs and words of praise coming from your lips. Each kiss on Levi's warm naked body was electrifying to him. Tingles of pleasure consumed him as he watched you closer.

Your hair tickled his skin as you showered his chest with kisses. Both pecs were adorned with all the love you could possibly give. You cheekily licked a spot before biting causing him to buck. Intense gazes of desire were exchanged, but you weren't done yet.

Every dip and curve of his abs were covered in kisses, you refused to leave a single spot untouched. Your lips dragged down further to his pelvis. The treasure trail of black hair was so delicious to you, it was like a nice arrow to something delicious.

Soft fingertips caressed your cheek causing you to look up. With a gentle smile, you crawled over to your husband and kissed him.

You purred at him. "You wanted me?"

Levi sighed. "I always want you."

You wrapped your hand around his thick, hot erection and moved slowly. You watched as he moaned and whimpered for you. No matter how many times you touched each other or made love, it was still perfection each time. You craved each other.

With keen eyes, Levi watched as you shifted down the floor before sinking him into your mouth. As each inch of him moved into his mouth, he let out a long sigh of pleasure. You paused a moment and moved back up, your lips dragged up his shaft as your tongue moved against him.

Leaning his head back in pleasure caused his hair to ruffle up. His knuckles became white as he gripped the blanket below him. A choked moan escaped him, it was like he was trying to hold back. The heat of your mouth was perfect, along with the gentle movements of your tongue. As Levi marvelled at how your mouth moved, he kept thinking about being inside your pussy.

Levi murmured your name. "Please, no more."

With a cute pop, you pulled back from him. "Are you okay?"

Once he was sat up he pushed his fingers into your hair and brought you closer for a kiss. "I'm good, you're just too talented."

You giggled. "Thank you."

"Come here, cupcake."

You squealed in delight when he dragged you onto his lap, his erection was pressed between your stomachs. You slipped your arms over his shoulders and hummed. "Can I ask, did you wish for the snowstorm on your birthday so we would spend more time in here?"

Levi massaged your thighs. "Mm, maybe."

You shifted up to your knees. "Want me to lower down?"

"Please do." He took himself in his head and moved up and down. "I'm aching for you."

You mewled at his words before sinking down on him slowly. Delighted moans slipped from both of your lips. Once all of Levi's cock was deep inside you, you both spent a moment lightly touching each other and kissing. Your walls caressed and clenched him causing him to grunt in response.

Levi gripped around your thighs and helped you bounce up and down on him. You gripped his shoulder and bounced on Levi. The two of you felt electricity going through you as his cock pounded in and out of you. It was like the two of you were made for each other, the way you came together was just so addictive.

You dove for his shoulder and bit hard as you started rolling your hips. You dragged your tongue up his neck and nibbled on his earlobe. You mewled in delight. Levi's lips were so tempting, you had to have them against yours. You crashed your lips against his and felt your heart throb in your chest.

Your toes squeezed tightly as you felt your coil tighten up. You pulled from Levi's lip and cried out in pleasure. "Levi."

Levi chuckled and slowly lay you on your back. "You are so cute when you cum."

You nibbled your lip and whined. "You're sexy when you cum."

Levi slipped his hand under your bum as the other cupped the back of your head. "Thank you." He panted as he moved against you, your bodies rubbed together causing a tingling of pleasure. "You are so perfect."

You smiled at him. "I thought I was supposed to spoil you."

He nibbled your jawline. "You can spoil me by letting me devour."

You leaned your head back in Levi's hand as he started bucking hard and fast into you. Your nails dragged across his back as his cock plunged in and out of your pussy. Each slam of his hips sent an explosion of pleasure to go through you. You were in pure ecstasy as Levi moved deep within you.

Levi shivered in pleasure as your walls fluttered around him. Every inch of your body was precious and blissful to him. Each time you came together as one he felt like he was tasting heaven. Your body was incredible to him and he wanted to make you feel euphoric as often as possible.

You cupped Levi's face as you panted and moaned against his lips. "I love you."

Levi tapped his forehead against yours. "I love you so much. My darling wife."

You mewled and purred at him as he moved with you. The way he kissed and treated your body was as if you were a goddess. You always treated Levi the same. The way Levi's body moved and looked was incredible. He was a divine being and you were his precious offering before a blazing fire.

You shifted under him and mewled. "Cum inside me, deep inside me."

Levi growled and bucked hard and fast into you. "Yes. All yours." He smiled at you. "My darling wife. I love you."

"I love you, Levi. I love you." You squeezed your toes. "I love you." You panted and gasped. "A-Ah!" You cried out in pleasure. "F-Fuck." You moaned as your orgasm pulsed through you. "Mm."

Levi grunted as your pussy walls massaged his cock. He tapped his forehead against the floor next to your head and plunged deep into you. He panted and moaned against your ear when he came hard. His hot cum poured into you. He hummed as his cock twitched inside you.

He smiled a little at you and started kissing your face all over. "What a wonderful birthday escape."

You giggled. "I'm glad."

He kissed you and hummed. "The storm is still bad." He kissed your neck. "The fire is still big."

You purred. "And you're still horny?"

He smirked. "Yes."

"So am I."

267 notes · View notes

numinousher · 5 months ago

Text

CHANTAJE! (xviii)

PAIRING: ceo!bts x actress(female)!reader

SUMMARY: being under the watchful eye of the media and your fans, your managers are in desperate need of regaining back your popularity after other influencers who hate you cause mayhem to your life. what best way to do so by having you pretend to be in a relationship with the popular 7 who are known to be intensely wealthy and stoic? will you be able to regain their trust or will they go with their promise of damaging your reputation even more?

WARNING(S) FOR LATER: gore/blood/murder, harassment/bullying, mental health talks (nothing badly triggering), child endangerment (mc was a child actor, again nothing badly triggering. if there is, there will be a warning)

NOTE: if you guys read this, im not late, you are 😒

TAGLIST (CLOSED): @parapiop7 @an-ever-angry-bi @softforyoongles @thenaverse @chansatlan @juju-227592 @skyys-universe @carolinexkpop @reallysparklychaos @namjooncrabs @savagemickey03 @drunkzseok @svnbangtansworld @2ne1unni

“Why are you crying?”

Were the first words Namjoon asked as soon as he, Jimin, and Taehyung came to find you sitting on your couch with tears streaming down your face. Little gasps were escaping your lips and your eyes were casted on something propped on the arm of your couch.

You raised a finger up as an answer.

“Y/n.”

You ignored them and continued to look at what you were looking at.

“Y/n.”

A little sob escaped you this time and Taehyung strides forward to see what was causing your tears. He pinched the bridge of his nose once he came to find a book laid down, a sigh escaping his own lips.

“Y/n, are you crying over a book?”

“You better not be judging me.” you glared at him, though Taehyung couldn’t take you serious since your eyes were teary and swollen. Your nose was starting to get stuffy, too, so you sniffled in hopes it would stop running. You continued to read.

“Why are you crying before your meeting with your parents, idiot?” Jimin sighed, passing you the tissues on your table. You took them from him and made sure you were finished with the last sentence of the book before closing it.

“I needed to read this because I need to remember I could’ve had it worse,” you mumbled, standing up to stretch. You twisted your body side to side to get rid of the ache from sitting down. “I cry when I get mad so I needed to get those tears out before my parents words get to me.”

“You read that book because you needed to remind yourself you could’ve had it worse?” Namjoon asked in a low voice, almost in disbelief. You nodded and quickly put your things away. “You’re crazy. Don’t compare yourself life to fictional things. This is real life and as much as we all have fucked up childhoods, yours is valid, too.”

You sniffed one last time, your gaze stuck on the wall beside his head to look at the picture of you and your sister. “You’re right. I needed that.” You dabbed your eyes and inhaled and exhaled. “Okay, I think I’m good. I really needed that cry.”

Jimin scoffed and shook his head. “What are we gonna do with you?”

You innocently smiled, sticking out your hand. “Hold it?”

Before he was about to respond, your maid, Min-seo, came with her head bowed down. “Your parents are here, ma’am.”

“Thanks, lead them here please, Min-seo,” you softly spoke to the poor woman, turning around to breath in and out. You ignored the stares and the anxiety building up in the pit of your stomach. “If I talk back, don’t think I’m disrespectful.”

Taehyung’s hand rested on the middle of your back, thumb rubbing against the material of your shirt. Much to your surprise, though, his touch soothed you.

“Why are they here?”

Your eyes shut closed out of irritation at hearing your dad’s annoyed yet stern voice.

“Because I’m dating them,” you spewed out between gritted teeth, a fake smile spreading on your lips as you came to see your parents and your siblings. You forgot you had a brother for a sec, but you remembered the money you gave to your parents went to him. “Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung, these are my parents and my siblings. Parents, siblings, these are my boyfriends.”

“Hmm.” Your mom looked at the boys and looked away. “What are these allegations?” You rolled your eyes and turned away to sit down. “Do not turn your back to me, Y/n.”

“I’m not turning my back on you to be rude,” you said, feeling Taehyung sit next to you while the other two stood behind you, watching your family with a stern gaze.

Namjoon, though, kept a close eye on your sister.

“We have told you work comes before everything and that included having friends,” your mom continued to scold you, slapping your hand away from the cotton candy you had been eating. “And this is not food. What is this? Throw it away.”

“Why are you here?” You asked, ignoring her words and eating the sweetness she despised. “There must be a reason as to why my whole entire family had to come to my house instead of calling or texting.”

“Your brother wants money for school,” your dad simply answered, back straightening a bit to look more intimidating. Because Namjoon and Taehyung worked out more than Jimin did, your dad couldn’t help but eye the way their blazers looked on their arms. Although Jimin wasn’t as buff, his mere presence was enough to intimidate anyone in the room, including your younger brother.

“Ah, that’s what it’s for,” you scoffed out, shaking your head. You glanced at your brother. “Funny how as his parents, you can’t financially provide for him. Thanks to me, he can have everything he wants.”

“Y/n.”

“No,” you remembered Jae’s words resonating with you. It was time to put your foot down. But you couldn’t help but admit you felt a bit embarrassed since the guys were there, watching you. “I am not going to just throw money I earned because of my hard work. I worked. Not you. It’s my money.”

“But we helped you get to where you were,” your mom argued, hoping to diminish any confidence you had standing up to her and your father. “Without us, you wouldn’t be living in a house as big as this, all while being named the biggest actress and millionaire in South Korea. We put you in this path.”

“And I thank you for that,” you said with a frown, not straying away your eye-contact. “But it doesn’t mean that you don’t see me as a big dollar sign because you do. That’s all I am to you and it has been like that since I was a child.”

“Your aunt made you like this,” your father fought back, his words laced with such hate for the woman who technically raised you. “After she died, you have been nothing but a disappointment.”

“Since I’m such a disappointment,” you started, feeling Taehyung’s hand on your thigh to provide some type of support, “then you don’t need the money I get from the movies and shows I’ve been in that disappoint you.”

Your mother scoffed. “Despicable!” She stood up and pointed a finger at you. “You have been nothing but a spoiled brat. You’re never appreciative. Never, and you’re here because of us.” She glanced at the 3 men surrounding you. “Nothing but a disappointment.”

“You know your way out,” you said in a monotonous voice, your fingers slightly shaking with nerves at even the thought of kicking your parents out. You’re really doing something you know you’re going to feel guilty for as soon as they leave. “I will support my siblings, but you two are not getting a cent.”

“Whatever.”

Your parents turned on their heels and left, heading towards the front door. Your siblings, feeling bad for you, immediately walked to you.

You stood up and hugged them both simultaneously, bringing them closer to kiss their cheeks.

“Stop growing up, you two,” you joked, hoping to ease the tension surrounding all of you. They chuckled tearfully on your shoulder before pulling away. You placed a hand on your brother’s face. “Whatever you need, text me. I will have my bodyguard get you and bring you here, okay?” He nodded, tears in his eyes out of gratefulness for having you. You were always so thankful he was never ungrateful. “Go. I’ll talk with your sister really quick.”

He nodded and bid his goodbyes. Though, before he left, he turned to look at the three men still quietly staring. “Goodbye. Take care of my sister please.”

They all nodded their heads.

“We will,” Jimin mumbled much to everyone’s surprise.

You watched your brother leave before turning to look at your sister. You placed your hand on the sides of her face, looking at her sadly. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m okay,” she said, her own eyes becoming blurry with tears. “They’re just too much.”

“Whatever you need, I’m here,” you muttered, hugging her again one last time. “You know that.”

“I know,” she sadly chuckled, nodding her head in agreement. “That’s why I call you my own mother figure because that hag outside is nothing to me.”

Snorting, you softly slapped her back. She could hear the smile in your voice as you scolded her. “Don’t say that.” She laughed with you before pulling away. “I’ll see you then?” She nodded. You sighed. “Okay then. Please take care of yourself. You have my number and stay out of trouble.”

“I will,” she breathed out. You kissed her cheek one last time. She looked over your shoulder. “Take care of my sister.” Her smile vanished and a stern look overtook it. “I know people who can get the job done. I even have a bunch of haunted dolls that will get attached to you as soon as you touch it. Don’t tempt me.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but let a small smile slip on his mouth at the threats. “We’ll take care of her.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at them and turned to look back at you. “Be happy.”

You felt that familiar lump in your throat at hearing her words, and you blinked away the tears threatening to escape your eyes so you wouldn’t worry her. You watched her leave and you couldn’t bear the thought of crying in front of the others. This was a different feeling than the one you felt at reading the book.

“Excuse me,” you mumbled, walking yourself to the library you had in the other room.

The three men looked at each other but Namjoon, understanding you, sighed at your figure closing the door behind you.

“I’ll talk with her.”

Jimin and Taehyung watched him leave and they were left with a solemn air surrounding them. They could only hope Namjoon did his best to reassure you.

“Hey,” Namjoon said, closing the door behind him. He watched you sitting on a chair with your hand covering your face.

“I have an ugly crying face, leave,” you let out, though Namjoon could only register a couple of words since your mouth was muffled.

He snorted and shook his head, ignoring your words. He sat next to you and silently sat there, legs stretched out. He glanced at the back of your head and leaned back.

“My parents were like that.” His words caught your attention. “I mean, they were a bit worse but, the amount of manipulation and guilt-tripping they did to me for the majority of my childhood. I lie all of the time that they were nice, loving parents or that my mom was great, my dad was great, whatever. But in actuality, they were a bunch of assholes who never recovered from their own childhood trauma so they took it out on me until I eventually became them.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” you breathed out.

“I get that feeling of being afraid that you’re going to end up like them but, when you’re self-aware, when you know their actions,” Namjoon held your hand in his so you could understand the sternness of his words. He wouldn’t just say all of this without meaning to, “you’re already the best version of yourself. You know what they’re doing is wrong and you’re already close to the fact that you’re not going to become like them.”

A moment of silence became you.

With a sigh, you sat up, and rubbed your eyes.

“You really have a way with words if you’re not a douchebag, huh?” He noticed you had the habit of doing that; to get rid of the tension by making small jokes. He couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath at your attempt. “Thank you, Namjoon. I am sorry you guys had to be here to witness that mess.”

“It’s okay. It’s nothing I haven’t seen. As long as you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

“Good. Let’s get some cotton candy, yeah?”

“Okay.”

He smiled at you and softly patted your head. “And please, if you want to cry before meeting your parents, come with me. You can cry however much you want around me, I won’t mind. It’s better you have someone than being alone.”

“Just say you like me.”

“Who wouldn’t, bestie?”

“You ruined it.”

< before - after >

79 notes · View notes

yeoja-dream · 10 months ago

Text

Found/Fated/Forever

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Pairing: BTS OT7 x Reader Genre: Fantasy, eventual smut, porn with plot, slow burn, hurt/comfort Characters: Supernatural!BTS, Vampire!Jungkook, Supernatural!Reader Content Warning: Y/N in danger, medical scene & terminology Word Count: 3k

Jungkook held your body, cool, clammy, and lifeless in a state of panic. He didn’t mean to go that far, he thought desperately. He put his head on your chest and prayed to any gods that would listen that he hadn’t killed out outright, and a tiny blip of relief washed over him when he hurt the faint, slow beating of a heart. It wasn’t too late.

“What am I supposed to do?” He said, anxiously pacing. The idea hit him suddenly. If there was someone that could help, it was Namjoon.

Jungkook picked up your body, handling and cradling it like it was the most delicate flower. Standing in the middle of your apartment, in a puff of dark smoke, Jungkook willed the two of you to disappear, then reappear again on the roof of the largest general hospital in your city. At this time, the morning sun had begun cresting over the horizon, its warm rays falling onto the two of you. Jungkook for the first time felt his grip on you weaken and his muscles begin to strain and ache under your weight. Where you were weightless to him before, the sunlight was weakening him considerably. He wasted no further time dashing into the rooftop access door and into the hospital proper.

If Jungkook knew Kim Namjoon, and he was certain he did, he knew that it was almost certain that Namjoon hadn’t yet gone home from his shift as an emergency room attending. Jungkook hadn’t been to the hospital often, the stench of alcohol, death, blood, and other bodily fluids was overwhelming to his heightened senses and churned his stomach. Looking to blend in, he used the glamour magic afforded to him, disguising both of your forms as he navigated the halls, appearing to be just another doctor carrying a box of medical equipment. He paused, closing his eyes and concentrating, mentally pulling and tugging at the bond he shared with the older man.

Where are you? I am here.

Office. The bond answered back.

It wasn’t long until he was in front of the office of Dr. Kim Namjoon. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.

Inside was a tired-looking, young man, busily typing and scratching down notes on a piece of paper. As Jungkook entered, he looked up, his expression initially pleased at seeing his mate quickly turned to one of shock and horror at what he was carrying.

“Hello Jungk-” Namjoon cut himself and stood suddenly from his desk, seeing the body he carried in his arms. “What the hell is this?”

“Help her, please,” Jungkook begged. “I can explain more later.”

Namjoon walked over, feeling for a pulse. “Did you do this to her?” He asked, his voice grave.

“Yes,” Jungkook replied, ashamed.

“Well you didn’t kill her,” Namjoon stated with a sigh. “She needs urgent treatment. Disguise yourself and bring her up to the 8th floor, B corridor, last room on the left. We will have a bit more privacy that way. I will be up right behind you.”

With a simple nod of solemn understanding, Jungkook turned on his heel, and made haste out of the office, following Namjoon’s instructions carefully. The B corridor on the 8th floor was sparsely populated, it appeared to be mostly storage for patient care monitors and machines, Jungkook noted passively. He tried the door of the aforementioned room, finding it unlocked, before letting himself in. The room was minimal, with a bed made up with only a pillow and a single fitted sheet, a bedside monitor, and a chair. Jungkook quickly laid you down on the bed before drawing the blinds to prevent any additional sunlight from getting in, it was making him feel like shit enough as it was.

It wasn’t much longer after Jungkook entered that Namjoon entered as well. He came, backpack slung over a shoulder and pushing a rolling table. Wordlessly, he unpacked the supplies and began setting you up on the monitors.

“Her pulse is thready, weak, and slow, but it's there. Regular rythm.” Namjoon noted out loud to no one in particular. “Her blood pressure is really low so I’m going to have to start her on a blood transfusion and fluids. Is that going to bother you, or do I have to kick you out?”

Jungkook shook his head emphatically. Namjoon nodded in understanding, but stood in place, unmoving.

“DO something!” Jungkook insisted, anxiously.

“I can count the number of times I’ve placed an IV on one hand and as for the IV pumps, they might as well be set to a foreign ancient language. I promise I am the last person you want handling this stuff. I’ve already paged my nurse, Clara. She should be here any moment.”

As if divinely timed, the door handle jiggled and opened, and a short, stout, human walked in. Clara was the veteran nurse of veteran nurses. She had been working since she graduated at the age of 22, she could place an IV in your forehead, she could run a code blue better than most of the resident doctors, and she was wise enough to know when to not ask too many questions.

“I got your page, Dr. Kim,” Clara said, walking in, and quickly assessing the situation.

“Clara, we are running a hypovolemic protocol on this patient. She needs bilateral peripheral IVs, 1-liter Lactated ringers at 120 milliliters an hour, packed red blood cells should run at 200 milliliters an hour, and platelets at 400. Take whatever blood you can and run a CBC, Jane Doe, stat. I have all the supplies here.”

“Yes, doctor,” Clara responded before quickly getting started. Clara worked fast and efficiently, with a work ethic born from years in the emergency room. Sliding the IVs in place, she expertly set up the fluids and blood products to transfuse and finally drew a vial of blood for testing. “I am going to run this to the lab. Will you be doing the transfusion monitoring, Doctor?”

“Yes. Thank you, Clara, for your work and your discretion,” Namjoon said, dismissing her. She excused herself with a simple head nod, and the two men were again alone in the room.

“She’s going to get better now, right?” Jungkook asked, bouncing his leg anxiously.

“She should,” Namjoon said, seriously. “But this is not over, and we will be discussing what the hell happened here because if I am doing some of the mental math here, I suspect this…” he said gesturing to you, “is an everyone problem.”

Jungkook looked away. The older man wasn’t usually so serious or harsh with him, and if he was honest with himself it definitely hurt on top of everything else that was going on, not that he didn’t deserve it.

The pair sat in silence for some time. Namjoon stood at your bedside carefully monitoring your vital signs. As the minutes passed, steadily your vital signs improved, and steadily Namjoon was able to relax.

“It was good you got here when you did,” Namjoon finally broke the silence. “She would have certainly died if you hadn’t.”

Jungkook swallowed hard at that. The last words you had said to him before this all started echoed in his mind, swallowing him with guilt. Please don’t hurt me.

After about 30 minutes, Namjoon received a message on his phone, your lab results. Confusingly, almost all the values were low. Did you even have any blood in your body, no one can survive this kind of low. Namjoon knitted his eyebrows together in confusion, and just as he was about to look up and question Jungkook, the monitoring alarms started blaring.

“Fuck!” Namjoon cursed. “She’s having a reaction to the blood. That should be impossible it’s O- blood, no one reacts to that! I checked it 5 times, FUCK! He cursed again.

“What do we do?” Jungkook stood now, panicked.

“Stay here, I need to get some medications I will be back as fast as I can.” Namjoon typically tapered his mannerisms and movements to the human world he worked in. He moved deliberately slowly, but at this moment, he allowed himself to use the maximum of his powers. Truly in a flash, he had gone and come back with armfuls of different medications he wasted no time in administering.

“This is really bad, Jungkook,” Namjoon said, looking over your body anxiously. “Her blood levels are so low, no human should have survived, and now she’s reacting to the one type of blood that everyone should be able to tolerate. I can give her some medications to encourage her body to make more blood cells faster, but I’m not sure she’ll survive that long.”

Jungkook stood, running his hands through his hair pacing. “She asked me not to hurt her, Joon. She asked me and I did this to her. She trusted me.” His voice waivered, boarding on tears.

“If I am right about what I suspect, you couldn’t control yourself, Kook,” Namjoon said, attempting to be comforting.

Jungkook continued to pace, chewing on his nails as he watched Namjoon attempt to resuscitate you.

“What if she wasn’t human?” Jungkook suddenly asked.

“What?” Namjoon asked, spinning around.

“What if she wasn’t human? She does crazy magic and her blood tasted weird. Different. I’ve drank a lot of human blood and it was never like that.”

Namjoon drew in a breath, answering in a cool, measured way. “You mean to tell me this woman can do magic and it’s only now occurring to you she’s probably not human? What human have you ever met that possesses anything resembling magic? Never mind the fact that her blood was completely unlike any other humans you’ve tasted, now I’m thinking the next thing we should be testing is your head because I’m desperately concerned that it is entirely empty!”

Jungkook looked down, ashamed, at the older man’s chiding.

“No wonder she had a reaction to the blood I gave her! Explains the impossibly low lab values too, she’s a bit more durable than the average human. Don’t be mistaken, these medications will likely have limited effect on her, and she is still gravely ill.”

“What can we do?” Jungkook asked, eyes misty.

“We,” Namjoon said emphasizing the word. “Can’t do a whole lot. You can teleport to Baba Yena and hope she’s feeling charitable today.”

Jungkook groaned internally. Baba Yena was known to be exceptionally powerful, but exceptionally apathetic. Legend states that she was older than time, older than the gods and the powers that created them. She possessed incredible powers, but was, in a word, incredibly stingy to whom she blessed with them. Jungkook’s run-ins with the woman had been scarce, but the few times he had, were certainly memorable. At all costs, he had wanted to avoid being around her, but on the other hand, it was the least he owed you after nearly taking your life.

With a heavy sigh and crossed fingers, Jungkook walked to the center of the room, and in yet another puff of black smoke instantly disappeared, leaving Namjoon alone with your body.

He sat next to your bedside, going between monitors, checking medication flow rates, and staring at you.

“If you keep fighting, I will fight for you,” Namjoon said. “Welcome to the family.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook appeared suddenly and to his relief in front of a large, dome-shaped house. Baba Yena’s house was located in a pocket dimension, and without the proper talismans or magic symbols, teleportation here was… unreliable. The house itself seemed to be made out of packed dirt or fired brick, the roof overgrowing with moss. The house was seemingly the only thing in the pocket dimension, and aside from Baba Yena’s home and overgrown yard, a black abyss stretched on in all directions seemingly endlessly.

Jungkook steeled his nerves, walking up the short, rough stone walkway to the large, wooden front door. There was no door knob, Jungkook suddenly realized, but as he raised his hand to knock, the door flung itself open. Taking it as an open invitation, he let himself in.

The inside smelled fairly pleasant of wood, and for good reason. Betraying the fired brick exterior, the interior of the home seemed that of a log cabin or other wood-inspired architecture. In the entryway, there was a single spiral staircase going up, and corridors leading to who knows where on the left and right. If Jungkook focused his hearing, from the right direction he could hear a female voice humming and mumbling to herself. He decided to follow.

The corridor was plain with wood paneling, but most bizarrely seemed to stretch on for much, much longer than it had first appeared. Jungkook found himself walking first for 1 minute, then 5, and when 10 minutes passed and he still hadn’t reached the room he was walking towards, his anxiety heightened. He stopped, thinking.

“I seek your help, Baba Yena!” He called out. He waited a few seconds, and when nothing changed he thought of a new approach. Baba Yena was also called the Knowing Mother, and to her, information was worth its weight in favors. “A girl of an unknown race lies dying in a hospital bed, and without your gracious help, she will perish an unknown, and her secrets will die with her.” Jungkook waited a few more seconds. He felt a rush suddenly and was nearly knocked off his feet as a large, invisible force picked him up, and shot him forward, dropping him off at the threshold of the room once impossibly far away.

Jungkook entered the room which he quickly assessed to be a kitchen of sorts with black and white floor tiling, scuffed with age, a dark wood table covered in various ingredients, tubes, flasks, and other unrecognizable equipment, a ceiling littered with drying herbs and meats, and a sink next to a counter, on which is something that was clearly freshly butchered. On the side closest to him, there was a forge of sorts, a large stone pit full of red-hot coals, perched over which was a large, black cauldron, the depth of which was at least half of Jungkook’s height. Standing over the cauldron on a step stool was Baba Yena, a diminutive old woman. Hair silver and white was wild and long, her face a map of wrinkles and liver spots, and her hands, gnarled, twisted, and bony. If she noticed Jungkook enter, she didn’t show it and continued stirring whatever concoction bubbled loudly in the kettle.��

Jungkook cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, attempting to get Baba Yena’s attention to no avail.

“Baba Yena,” Jungkook began, taking a tentative step forward. “I bring you information in exchange for some of your magic.”

Baba Yena didn’t look up from her work but finally spoke. “The Liar Boy comes to me asking for favors, tell me Liar Boy, how does that pendant serve you?”

“It serves me well, Baba,” Jungkook said holding it in his hand instinctually. “There is a girl, not human, not demon, not fae, not angel. She is dying.”

“I see…” Baba Yena stirs her pot more aggressively now, reaching up, plucking a dried herb from the ceiling, and mixing it in. “You, Liar Boy are the one who almost killed the girl…”

“I was compelled by the Smoke. It is my fault nonetheless, and I have come to beg for your mercy.”

“I have saved you once, Liar Boy. Many who come to my doorstep don’t have even that many chances.”

“The girl is unusual and powerful. She could be of interest to you.”

“You again offer the girl as a sacrifice, and yet nothing of personal sacrifice, how peculiar.” Baba Yena said with a small cackle.

“I have nothing left to give,” Jungkook replied, forlorned.

“I see the girl,” Baba Yena said, staring into her cauldron. “The horned one cares for her well, but she is as ill as you say and- ah! She is mated to you, she holds your final Fragment, I see. No wonder the Liar Boy again finds himself on my doorstep.”

“You understand why I humbly bring myself to your home. Allowing her to die would be a punishment too heavy for someone innocent, she is guilty of only trusting me. I intend to earn her trust in earnest, and I only ask for the opportunity to do so.”

“So it would seem…” Baba Yaga said, half listening. She stares intently at something, the light from the cauldron giving her an even more menacing look. Her eyes dart around as if watching something intently, and Jungkook watches as her face twists into a wolfish smile.

“I ought to sever your bonds and cast your soul to wander the Astral Sea for being such a pain in my side, Liar Boy. I will help this girl, but not without sacrifice from you.”

“Anything,” Jungkook said earnestly.

“Oh, I have something in mind,” Baba Yaga said, climbing down from the step stool and waddling across the kitchen before phasing through a portion of the wall, disappearing from view. Jungkook could still hear the sound of items being shuffled, glass clinking against glass, however. After a minute or so, Baba Yaga returned, a dusty, palm-sized, green potion in hand.

“Drink this and we will be on our way.” She said, handing him the bottle.

Jungkook took it from her, turning it in his hand, examining the liquid inside. It was a sickly lime green color, and he noticed, to the dismay of his stomach, that the texture of the liquid was actually quite viscous and grainy. He wondered if it was a poison, naturally, perhaps one meant to weaken him severely but never kill him outright. He had a mind to ask, but understanding how fickle Baba Yena was, he knew better. He lifted the cork out of place with a solid thunk, closed his eyes, and focused on not vomiting as he poured the potion down his throat. He didn’t fight the wave of magical something that passed through his body, bracing himself for pain or weakness. He opened his eyes and checked his body, felt his face, but somehow, he felt completely fine.

“You’ll know what it does in time, Liar Boy. Now come, let's go save this girl.”

#bts #bangtan #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #ot7 x reader #namjoon x reader #bts x reader angst #bts smut #bts x reader smut #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x fem!reader #bts x oc #ot7 x reader smut #ot7 x you #poly ot7 #foundfatedforever #foundfatedforever part 3

158 notes · View notes

kingofbodyrolls · 1 year ago

Text

Friendcation (m) | myg | four

It’s the last weeks of the vacation being just you and Yoongi, and you’re going to savor every last bit of it. You do some hiking, relaxing and discover new sides to yourself that you didn’t know existed.

→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Other characters: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin. → Genre/AU: best friends to friends with benefits to lovers, non idol!au, camping!au, roadtrip!au, mechanic!Yoongi, humor, slight angst, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 → Status: completed! → Word Count: 17,7K (wooops!) → Warnings: smut; exhibitionism, voyeurism, period sex (period blood, but not in too much detail), period cramps, protected sex, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), handjob, nipple/breast play. → Author’s note: I’m sorry this took longer to post than the previous chapters 🙇 And I’m currently still outlining ch 5 🫥 Moving is harder than anticipated, but we are almost completely settled in, and I began writing again yesterday, so that’s good 🙂It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

The calendar has ticked its way to the end of August, but Mother Nature seemed to be playing a capricious game with the weather. Just when you thought the days would be getting cooler, a sweltering heat wave envelopes the surroundings, and the sun bears down with relentless intensity. It was as though the weather had a mischievous mind of its own, teasingly extending the summer season.

The unforgiving heat was taking its toll on you. Your body, once energized by the adventures of summer, now ached from the relentless rays and the humidity that clung to your skin.

Agony surges through you, and an involuntary whimper escaping your lips, “Fuck it hurts!”

Clutching your stomach, you feel utterly helpless, as if the pain has taken control of your very being. Yoongi’s concerned gaze never left your face, and you can see the worry etched in his features.

In that moment, his presence was a balm to your suffering. He leans in closer, his hand moving to stroke your hips in a soothing, rhythmic motion. His voice, a gentle murmur, reaching your ears like a lifeline in the darkness of your pain.

“Can I do anything to help?”

He asked, his eyes searching yours, as if willing your agony to ebb away. It was a simple question, but in that moment, it held the power to offer you some respite from the torment.

Your frustration knew no bounds as you cursed your forgetfulness. It was a recurring issue, the way your period always seemed to sneak up on you when you least expected it, catching you off guard. The fact that you had irregular periods only added to the challenge, and this time, it had left you utterly unprepared.

In the midst of your aggravation, you realize you have forgotten to pack any pads or even tampons. Panic starts to creep in as you consider the inconvenience of the situation. It’s a moment that made you wish you had been more vigilant and prepared for this inevitable occurrence.

Your voice, tinged with frustration, anger, and the ache of cramps, sounds like a desperate plea as you confess, “I forgot to pack pads and pain meds.”

Your words hang heavily in the air, a stark reminder of your discomfort. In that moment, his eyes soften with genuine concern. He can see the pain etched across your face, and it pains him too, knowing he can’t bear the discomfort for you.

“I can get those for you,” he offers earnestly, his desire to help you clear in his eyes. He can’t stand to see you in such distress; it tugs at his heartstrings.

“You don’t have to, Yoongi,” you insist, your voice trembling slightly as you inhale sharply, a fresh wave of cramps seizing your body.

Despite your attempt to maintain your independence, you can’t hide the pain in your voice. It was clear that you were struggling, and he couldn’t stand by and do nothing while you suffered. Your words are laced with concern as Yoongi gazes at you, his eyes reflecting his genuine worry. Seeing you in such pain was breaking his heart, and he wanted nothing more than to alleviate your suffering.

“I know you can do it yourself,” he begins, his voice filled with tenderness, “but please, let me take care of you, babe. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

His genuine desire to help you was evident in his eyes and in the way his hand continued to gently stroke your hip in a soothing manner.

A soft smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you relent, feeling grateful for Yoongi’s caring nature. “Okay, thank you,” you whisper, realizing that sometimes, accepting help was a way to strengthen your friendship, and in this moment, it means the world to you.

With a tender nod, Yoongi steps out of the van.

“Okay. I’ll be back in an hour or so,” he reassures you, genuine concern still etched across his features. “I hope the pain won’t get worse,” he adds softly before closing the door behind him, leaving you in the temporary solitude of Holly.

Yoongi walks to the nearest store, the warm sun beating down on him during the 20-minute stroll in the early afternoon. Upon entering, he makes a beeline for the section with sanitary products and picks up some pads. As he stands there, he wonders if you use tampons but decides against them.

Then, an idea crosses his mind. He grabs his phone and texts his sister, seeking advice on what other items would be helpful for a woman on her period.

Yoongi [15:35]: I need your help, big sis 🆘

Sis [15:37]: What do you need help with? 😏

Yoongi [15:40]: ___ is on her period, bad cramps. I’m buying her pads and meds. Should I get her something else? What do women want on their period? 🤷

Sis [15:44]: Omg. You are the sweetest! 🥹 Buy her some dark chocolate and chips, I’m sure she’ll appreciate that. I’ll swing by with dinner for you two later 😉

Yoongi swiftly collects the items his sister suggested and makes his way back to the van, a sense of urgency and care propelling his every step.

As Yoongi returns, your face lights up with a mixture of gratitude and relief as you take in the thoughtful array of items he’s brought.

“Wow, you didn’t have to get all that, Yoongi. Thank you so much,” you exclaim with genuine appreciation, reaching eagerly for the chocolate he purchased.

Yoongi offers you the rest of the items he bought, mentioning his sister’s involvement.

You raise an eyebrow in surprise and then burst into laughter at his confession. “You actually told her I was on my period?” you chuckle, finding the situation rather amusing. He nods, a bit apprehensive, and adds, “She’s coming by later with dinner for us.”

You respond with a contented nod, “She’s a thoughtful sister; I wish I had one like her.” You reach for one of the packs of pads, appreciating both Yoongi’s and his sister’s considerate gestures.

You dig into one of your bags and retrieve a fresh pair of panties, relieved to replace the ones you’re currently wearing, which have become uncomfortably soaked — and definitely not with the kind of fluid you prefer.

As Yoongi’s sister arrives, the tantalizing aroma of the food nearly drives you to drool, and you can’t thank her enough for the comforting, warm meal. While you enjoy the delicious dishes in the comfort of your bed, Yoongi takes a seat outside on one of the stools.

“You know what can really help with those cramps?” Yoongi’s sister inquires, her eyes filled with genuine concern. Exhausted from the pain and with the medication not having taken effect yet, you simply shake your head without giving it much thought.

“Sex.”

She smirks, deliberately saying it loud enough for Yoongi to overhear, then winks at you. Your face flushes crimson, because yes, you’ve considered that option. You’ve even attempted it before in your early twenties, and remember that it can get incredibly messy.

Yoongi, sitting just outside the van, lets out an audible groan. “Aish, don’t say that,” he grumbles, clearly uncomfortable with his sister’s candid remarks. Her teasing seems to have gotten under his skin.

“I’m serious. It helps!” she insists, her tone filled with confidence as she tries to emphasize her point.

“Omg, I don’t want to imagine that,” Yoongi groans again, feigning agony. “I think the pregnancy is making you... horny,” Yoongi adds with a chuckle.

“True,” she breathes out, her chuckle playful. “But I’ve seen the way you two look at each other,” she continues, her gaze shifting from you to Yoongi. You blush and smile, while Yoongi just shrugs, a faint blush tingeing his cheeks.

“God! Something has already happened!”

She shrieks with delight and jumps out of the van to playfully shove Yoongi on his shoulder. “Don’t mess it up, I like her,” she says with a teasing grin, her eyes warm with affection.

“I’ll leave you two alone then,” she smiles and winks at Yoongi. You catch a glimpse of him rolling his eyes at her, but it’s clear their sibling bond is filled with affectionate banter that warms your heart.

As you lie together, wrapped in his comforting embrace, his hand gently caressing your hair and resting on your tummy, your thoughts begin to race. The warmth of his body pressed against yours stirs desire within you, and your mind inevitably wanders to thoughts of intimacy with him.

With your bodies pressed closely together, you can’t help but let your desire take over.

You subtly grind your hips against his, eliciting a low groan from him. His grip on your hip tightens as he buries his head in your neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. You turn to face him, your eyes locking with his as you broach the topic of period sex.

“How do you feel about period sex, like your sister suggested?”

You ask, searching his gaze for a sign of his willingness. He groans softly, his fingers tightening their hold on your hip. “Babe, please don’t mention my sister and sex in the same sentence,” he responds with a chuckle. “My boner will go away if you do that.”

As you press into him, you can feel his arousal growing against your back, and it sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

You playfully tease him, asking for his thoughts on the matter, and he responds with affectionate reassurance. “If you think it’ll help with the pain, sure,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your neck with tenderness, “I’d never say no to you, sweetheart.”

With a mischievous smile, you express your eagerness, “It will definitely give me something else to focus on.” You continue to search his eyes, your own filled with desire, and then you turn your body fully around to face him, closing the distance between you.

Your kiss is filled with fervor, driven by the anticipation of his touch and the idea of him fucking you in a moment, despite the messiness that may follow. The intensity between you two deepens with each passing second, as you both succumb to your passionate desires.

Your fingers trace the outline of his already throbbing dick through the fabric of his sweatpants, coaxing a delicious, guttural moan to escape his lips. The sensation of his heat and hardness in your hand ignites a thrilling craving within you, intensifying the desire that courses through your veins.

With eager anticipation, you seize the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging them down along with his boxers, revealing his taut cock. It springs free, proudly standing at attention, and your eyes gleam with hunger as you wet your lips in anticipation.

Casting his discarded garments to the floor, you then gracefully lower yourself to your knees, positioning yourself before him, ready to devour him.

His longing gaze locks onto yours, aflame with desire, and he leans in to capture your lips in a tender, yearning kiss.

As your mouths meld together, your hand instinctively finds its way to his dick, your fingers enveloping it in a sensual caress.

His moans of pleasure reverberate through your mouth, a symphony of desire that resonates deep within you. The intoxicating sounds he makes serve as a powerful aphrodisiac, stoking the flames of your desire.

With a few more tantalizing strokes, you draw your lips away from his, leaving a trail of burning kisses along his clothed chest and abdomen.

Moving gracefully, you position yourself on all fours above his throbbing length, the air charged with anticipation. His eyes are locked on you, dark with desire, his breaths growing more ragged with each passing second.

You gaze up at him, your sultry eyes locking onto his, a mischievous glint dancing within them.

“You know,” you purr, your voice dripping with desire, “you have a very beautiful dick.”

You tease him, letting your tongue playfully out between your lips. Your warm, wet tongue glides sensually from the base of his pulsating cock to the very tip, capturing the glistening bead of precum that had formed there.

The taste and sensation of your tongue against his sensitive flesh sends shivers of pleasure sourcing through his body, and a low, guttural moan escapes his lips.

He inhales sharply, a hiss escaping his lips, as you continue to tease and tantalize his dick with your skilled tongue.

His head falls back slightly, his eyes squeezed shut, and his grip on the bed sheets tightens. A deep, sultry moan reverberates through the van, filling the air with the heady scent of desire and lust.

Your every movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through him, and he’s utterly captivated by the sensations you’re evoking.

You continue to work your magic, your mouth finally enveloping him with a voracious hunger that leaves him trembling.

His fingers tangle in your hair, a mixture of gentle guidance and unbridled passion, as he can’t help but lose himself in the exquisite sensations coursing through him. Every wet, sultry suck sends waves of pleasure rippling down his spine, and he finds himself already teetering on the edge.

His breath hitches, his hips instinctively shifting to meet your mouth, as he moans your name in a fervent plea for more.

As you maintain your relentless rhythm, the urgency in the van heightens. Your hand expertly complements the actions of your mouth, ensuring that no inch of his dick goes unattended. You can feel his breath hitching, his muscles tensing beneath your touch.

The way his head falls back, exposing the long line of his throat, his half-lidded eyes, lost in a daze of pure pleasure, and the soft sinful sounds escaping his lips fuel your determination to bring him all the pleasure you can.

It spurs you on, and you relax your throat, as you go all the way down, taking as much of him into your mouth as you can. Then you hold still and breathe in through your nose, as you hollow your cheeks.

“Fuck,” Yoongi moans as he closes his eyes for a moment.

Once more, you go back up, and down again, your movement in rhythm with the slurping noises that fill the van. As the intoxicating sounds envelop you, you can feel a flood of arousal pooling between your legs, your initial cramps now a distant memory.

Saliva glistens at the corner of your mouth, tracing a sensual path down his shaft to his balls. Yoongi’s gentle hand cups your cheek, his voice a passionate whisper, “You’re doing perfectly, babe,” he confesses, his desire palpable.

“But I’m close, I want to fuck you now.” His touch tenderly lifts your face to his, claiming your lips in a fervent kiss, the taste of himself evident.

With a smoldering intensity still in your eyes, you gasp for breath, your voice a sultry whisper, “Do you have any dark towels?” Yoongi nods, his understanding swift as he retrieves a stack of dark towels and a packet of condoms from one of the cabinets, anticipation lingering thick in the air.

With a silent and fervent agreement, Yoongi gestures for you to shift, giving him space to prepare. He deftly lays one of the dark towels on the bed, his movements quick and precise, while he casually tosses the other one within arm’s reach.

“Come here,” his voice is a seductive murmur, and his lips capture yours once more.

“Let me ease your pain.”

His breathy words send shivers down your spine, igniting an irresistible craving that drowns out any trace of discomfort.

With every piece of clothing that falls to the floor, the anticipation in the van builds like a crescendo. He undresses you slowly, savoring the unveiling of your body, and his gaze, filled with raw desire, leaves no doubt about his intentions.

As he sheds his own shirt and gently lowers you onto the towel, the air becomes electric with the promise of what’s to come.

With your legs gently parted, he admires the intimate canvas before him, his voice a sultry whisper as he caresses your quivering thighs. “You’re absolutely breathtaking,” he murmurs, his words igniting a fiery desire that courses through your veins, intensifying the anticipation of his touch.

He wraps his fingers around his cock, teasing it a few times before skillfully unrolling the condom onto it.

As he prods at your entrance, a tantalizing mix of pleasure and pain courses through you, intensifying the sensation as he gradually inches deeper inside.

Your slickness acts as a natural lubricant, allowing him to slip into you with an arousing ease that leaves you gasping for more. The stretching sensation, though initially intense, begins to meld into a delicious ache that only adds to the growing desire pulsating between you.

He finally reaches the hilt, and you can’t help but release a guttural moan.

“Fuck,” you whimper, your voice a sultry mix of pleasure and vulnerability, “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to your girth. You’re stretching me so good,” you admit, locking eyes with him and gripping his arms tightly, your nails digging into his skin as you savor the exquisite sensation of being completely filled by him.

“You’re taking me so damn well, babe,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire, as he starts to move inside you at an agonizingly slow pace. Every deliberate, languid thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making you ache for more, even as you savor the intensity of the sensation.

He withdraws, the sensation of emptiness leaving you yearning for more, and then he pushes back in, each deliberate thrust sending ripples of pleasure coursing through your body.

You can feel him everywhere - deep within your core and the firm grip of his hands on your hips, guiding every electrifying moment.

You find yourself in a blissful haze, caught between drowsiness and intoxication as he maintains the unhurried rhythm. Every movement is tender, every touch is deliberate, and he seems acutely attuned to the signals your body is sending.

It doesn’t feel like just sex; it feels like a passionate declaration of love, an intimate connection that leaves you utterly enraptured.

“Does it feel good, babe?”

He murmurs, his voice a sensual melody that resonates with your desires. As he pushes himself inside once more, he searches for that sweet spot, and when he finally finds it, he teases and tantalizes it with a rhythmic precision that sends electric waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Each deliberate thrust is a symphony of ecstasy, and you can’t help but moan in response, your voice a harmonious duet with his.

“Yes.”

You pant, your voice trembling with desire as you instinctively move your legs further up his body, resting them on his shoulders.

With this new angle, he penetrates even deeper, hitting that perfect spot that sends bolts of pleasure racing through you like wildfire. Your arousal surges, a fierce and intoxication wave that threatens to drown you in the sea of ecstasy building within your core.

As he continues to make love to you with a tender passion, a rush of emotions courses through you, overwhelming your senses.

The way he moves within you, so gentle and caring, fills your heart with an intense and intoxicating love. It’s a feeling you’ve never experienced before, as if you’re floating on a cloud of affection and desire.

In this moment you realize, no one has ever connected with you so deeply and lovingly before, and it leaves you feeling like you’re soaring, intoxicated not just by pleasure, but by the love you have for him.

As your body responds to his every touch and movement, Yoongi can feel your walls contracting around him, a sure sign that you’re getting closer to the edge.

His experienced hands explore your body, finding one of your breasts and teasing your nipple until it hardens beneath his touch. Simultaneously, his other hand ventures lower, tracing a path to your core where he discovers your sensitive clit.

With deliberate and sensual movements, he begins to rub it in slow, teasing circles, intensifying your pleasure and bringing you closer to the brink of ecstasy.

The moment Yoongi’s fingertips make contact with your sensitive area, it’s as if an electric current surges through your body, setting your nerve endings on fire.

Your reaction is immediate and intense - your back arches instinctively, yearning for more of his electrifying touch. Each sensation he evokes heightens your desire, propelling you further down the path of unbridled pleasure.

As Yoongi continues to make love with deliberate slowness, his skillful touch ignites an intense longing within you. The combined sensations of his gentle thrusts, the delightful pinching of your nipple, and the rhythmic caresses of your clitoris send you hurtling towards an inevitable climax.

Unable to contain yourself, you cry out his name, your voice filled with ecstasy as your orgasm consumes you. Your body quivers with pleasure, your inner walls contracting in waves, your abdomen tightening, and your vision briefly obscured by the brilliant burst of light that dances behind your closed eyelids.

As your orgasm washes over you, Yoongi can’t help but be captivated by your exquisite display of pleasure.

He revels in the sight of your trembling lips, your flushed and contoured cheeks, and the mesmerizing motion of your breasts, which sway with each of his deliberate thrusts. While you ride out the waves of your orgasm, he continues to thrust into you, his own pleasure building as he relentlessly pursues his release, his eyes locked onto your euphoric expression.

He maintains his deliberate pace, keeping his thrusts slow and deep, savoring every moment.

As you slowly descend from the euphoria of your orgasm, Yoongi leans down to capture your lips in a passionate and tender kiss. Your moans and pants mix with the soft sounds of your kisses as he continues to move inside you.

As your throbbing pussy continues to clench around him, Yoongi’s hips twitch involuntarily and he can’t hold back any longer.

With one last, deep, and passionate thrust, he releases, filling the condom with his seed. His voice joins yours in a harmonious crescendo of pleasure as he moans your name, the intensity of the moment making it feel like time itself has come to a standstill.

As the waves of ecstasy subside, Yoongi’s ragged breaths gradually calm.

He carefully withdraws from your pussy, tying off the used condom and discarding it in the sink. His eyes then trace the contours of your flushed, sated form, watching as your chest rises and falls with each recovering breath.

Gently, he reaches out to stroke your cheek, the soft caress sending shivers down your spine. His fingers weave through your tousled hair, and he lowers his head to place tender, lingering kisses on your neck, leaving behind a few love marks as a reminder of your passionate love making.

“Yoongi, that was…”

You exhale, struggling to find the right words to convey the intensity of the experience, “perfect,” you finally manage to sum up, your voice laced with contentment and admiration. His laughter dances in the air, a light, melodic sound that fills the space between you, and he places another soft, adoring kiss on your neck in response.

“Anything for you, babe.”

He says with a warm smile, his eyes filled with affection as he reaches for the towel beside your head. Carefully, he begins to clean you up between your legs, his gentle touch offering both comfort and reassurance.

You can feel the relief as he clears away the pooled fluids, easing the slight discomfort that lingered. Afterward, he tosses the used towel to the sink, intending to clean it later, and then he finds your panties, placing them back on you, making sure a fresh pad is in place.

“Thank you, Yoon,” you murmur, your lips finding his in another passionate kiss.

You draw him closer to you, your bodies molding together as you continue to exchange affectionate kisses. “I think it helped with the pain, it doesn’t feel so bad anymore,” you add, your voice laced with the drowsiness of contentment.

As the soothing afterglow washes over you, fatigue begins to claim your senses. Yoongi hums in appreciation, his heart warmed by the knowledge that he could offer you some relief from the pain that had troubled you.

Yoongi retrieves his boxers, slipping them on, and then gently spoons you from behind. His warm hand finds its place on your stomach, providing a sense of comfort and security.

As he pulls the duvet over both of you, cocooning you in its warmth, you share an intimate moment of connection before succumbing to the embrace of sleep. The night’s passion has deepened your bond, and now, wrapped in each other’s arms, you drift off to dreamland, where your hearts continue to beat in perfect harmony.

The next day, a sense of relief washes over you as the cramps have eased up a bit.

Still, Yoongi suggests a day of relaxation, cocooned in the comforting warmth of blankets and each other’s presence. You gladly accept his proposal, and the two of you settle into a cozy nook.

The soft glow of the laptop screen casts a warm, intimate light across the room, painting everything in a gentle, cinematic hue. As you snuggle up to Yoongi, his arms wrapped around you, you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back.

With each passing minute, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this tranquil bubble of shared solitude.

As you both nestle in the warmth of your shared bed, a sense of nostalgia washes over you, prompting a heartfelt conversation about the serendipitous moment that brought you together.

10 years ago

A decade ago, the tapestry of your life bore a different pattern.

The memory takes you back to a moonlit night when you were navigating the winding roads into Seoul. Your car, a loyal companion until that point, suddenly rebelled with an ominous sound, convulsing like a wounded creature before coming to a lifeless halt.

Panic surged through your veins as you clutched your phone, dialing the number of your best friend, Jimin, in desperate hope of salvation.

In hindsight, the absence of roadside assistance on your insurance plan now seemed like a glaring oversight. Inexplicably, Jimin’s response to your predicament was a burst of laughter, an outpouring of mirth that mingled with your frustration and fury.

He casually mentioned that he knew someone who could help—a mechanic and one of his closest friends. Before disconnecting to make the necessary arrangements, he offered a cryptic piece of advice: "Be nice to him when he arrives."

Though you couldn’t see his face through the phone, you rolled your eyes instinctively, as if he could somehow perceive your exasperation.

After a seemingly interminable hour of waiting, your irritation had grown into a simmering fury, matched only by the biting cold that had begun to gnaw at you.

When Yoongi finally arrived, his weary smile greeted you, but your impatience was palpable in your eyes and your curt greeting. You wasted no time in describing the odd sequence of events that had led to your car’s demise—the strange sounds, the unsettling shaking, and the ultimate breakdown.

Arms crossed beneath your chest, you impatiently tapped your foot on the frozen ground. With a sly grin, Yoongi teasingly asked if you had an urgent appointment, to which you replied with a petulant shake of your head, your only desire being to swiftly resolve the situation and return home to warmth.

As he popped the hood open and began tinkering with the engine, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him.

He sported army-green cargo pants paired with a once-white t-shirt, though now it bore the unmistakable signs of his labor—stains of grease and oil littering its surface. His short, bleached-blond hair framed a weary but softly attractive face, one that appeared as though it hadn’t experienced a good night’s sleep in ages. His brawny, well-defined biceps flexed with each maneuver, and you found yourself admiring his physique, secretly deeming him quite attractive.

In another universe, where he didn’t exude indifference and annoyance, you might have mustered the courage to ask him out.

Ultimately, while he couldn’t perform a miraculous on-the-spot repair, he assured you that a colleague from his garage could tow your car, offering to personally drive you back home.

You hadn’t anticipated his offer but accepted it nonetheless. The ride back to your home was mostly shrouded in silence, save for the occasional question about how you knew Jimin.

You explained that you had met Jimin in college, and then an uncomfortable silence settled in the car. The irritation seemed to hang in the air; you couldn’t quite pinpoint whether it was his demeanor that rubbed you the wrong way or if it was simply the cumulative frustration from the terrible day you had endured.

Laughter bubbles up between you as you fondly reminisce about that night.

“You seemed so cold and like helping me was the last thing you wanted to do,” you recall with a grin, and Yoongi chuckles in agreement.

“Well, you weren’t any better; you seemed so angry and stuck up,” he playfully teases, which only makes you laugh even harder.

“My car had just died, and I was freezing!” you retort with a grin, both of you sharing in the joy of that humorous memory.

“Thankfully, you fixed my car a few days later,” you reflect, a warm smile on your face, “and we began to hang out with Jimin.” You find yourself lost in the memories of those early days, where you discovered that Yoongi was not just a skilled mechanic but also a sweet and caring man who deeply valued his friendships and the people around him.

You linger in Daegu for an extra day, savoring the moments, before embarking on a scenic drive to a remote campsite nestled near Juwangsan National Park.

As you cruise along, a faint, unfamiliar noise emanates from Holly’s depths, causing a hint of concern to creep into your mind. You decide to bring it up with Yoongi, but his ears don’t catch the same odd sound.

He reassures you that everything is likely okay, promising to address any issues should they arise. With his calming words, you ease back into the journey, albeit with a lingering curiosity about Holly’s mysterious hum.

After hours of anticipation, you finally arrive at the tranquil campsite.

The midday sun filters through the foliage as Yoongi deftly parks the Holly beside towering, lush trees. Together, you unfold the marquee, arranging it to create a cozy shelter from nature’s elements.

With care, you set up the stools and arrange them around a makeshift table, making the campsite feel more like a home away from home. The aroma of the surrounding wilderness invigorates your senses, and you can’t help but smile as you reminisce about the delicious meal Yoongi had prepared the day before.

With excitement, you retrieve some cold beers from the cooler, their refreshing chill a perfect contrast to the warm, sun-kissed air. Alongside the beverages, you bring out the leftover food, a testament to Yoongi’s culinary skills that continue to amaze you.

The aroma of the meal wafts through the air, tantalizing your taste buds and setting the scene for a perfect day in the great outdoors.

As you sit down to savor your meal, the anticipation for the adventures awaiting you in the national park fills the air. Your conversation turns to the exciting possibilities, and you both discuss the sights and trails you hope to explore.

“I think we’re going to be doing a lot of hiking these next days,” Yoongi’s laughter punctuates the conversation, a reflection of the carefree spirit that camping in the wilderness has brought out in both of you.

Between bites of food and sips of beer, you share your aspirations for the upcoming days, fully aware that the rugged terrain and challenging hikes will be both physically demanding and incredibly rewarding.

The midday sun casts a warm glow on your surroundings, making it feel like a special occasion as you enjoy a beer at this unconventional hour.

With a hint of amusement in your voice, you add, “Yeah, I think it’ll be good. We’ve been enjoying some downtime in bed for the past few days.” The memory of both your cramps and intimate moments and shared pleasures flashes in your eyes as you exchange glances with Yoongi.

“I didn’t think you’d be up for anything active with your cramps,” he pouted in mock defense, and you playfully shoved his shoulder. “It was good, Yoon. But staying active helps too, and thankfully, I think I’m on my last day,” you almost sing-song, frustration and relief mingling in your voice as you express your disdain for your period—both the flow and the cramps.

You lean into Yoongi’s shoulder, a soft smile on your face.

“Thank you,” you nudge him playfully with your shoulder against his. “For taking care of me and doing all that. You’re sweet. And you’re spoiling me,” you giggle, your fingers caressing his arm fondly.

“Anything for you, babe,” he says, his voice filled with warmth, and then leans in to kiss you tenderly, sealing your gratitude with a loving embrace.

Before dinner, you decide to embark on a short hiking trail, driven by the curiosity of discovering a hidden gem like a serene river or a picturesque waterfall. You navigate the winding path for about an hour, your anticipation growing with each step.

Finally, the sound of cascading water reaches your ears, and as you turn a bend, you’re greeted by the breathtaking sight of a small, pristine waterfall – a tranquil oasis amidst the wilderness that leaves you utterly captivated.

You and Yoongi stand there in awe, gazing at the waterfall in a moment of shared wonder.

The rushing water sparkles in the dappled sunlight, its beauty almost otherworldly. You’re both so captivated by the scene that you decide to capture it in photographs, creating lasting memories of this enchanting moment.

With your camera, you frame shots of the waterfall: some with both of you, others with just the magnificent natural wonder as the backdrop.

And, unable to resist the romantic atmosphere, you steal a sweet kiss, freezing that affectionate moment in time through the lens.

Surrounded by a sea of tourists, you and Yoongi remain in your own world, oblivious to the curious onlookers. It’s as if time has slowed down, and nothing else matters except the beauty of the waterfall and the warmth of each other’s presence. You exchange loving glances and share soft laughter, creating a bubble of serenity in the midst of the bustling crowd.

The world may be watching, but right now, all that truly exists is the magic between you two.

As the sun begins its descent and the sky transforms into a canvas of warm hues, you and Yoongi make your way back to the campsite. The crackling campfire comes to life under his skillful hands, casting a flickering glow over your evening.

The tantalizing aroma of dinner cooking wafts through the air, making your stomach growl in anticipation. The two of you settle by the fire, and Yoongi takes charge of preparing a delicious meal.

While he tends to the food, you decide to share a glimpse of your day with your friends.

Your fingers dance across your phone screen as you select the perfect photo of you and Yoongi beside the captivating waterfall (not the one with you kissing!). It��s a moment of pure joy captured in pixels, the smiles on your faces telling a story of love and adventure.

With a tap, you send the photo to your group chat, allowing your friends to share in your happiness, even from afar.

Jungkook [18:05]: That’s a pretty waterfall! You’re pretty too ___ 😀

Yoongi [18:07]: What about me? 🤔

Taehyung [18:10]: Nah, you look like something the cat dragged in 😂

Seokjin [18:11]: 🤣🤣🤣

Yoongi [18:13]: That was totally uncalled for…

Namjoon [18:13]: But you asked 😆

Jimin [18:14]: Is that a hickey on your neck, ___? 😚

Hoseok [18:15]: It totally is, I had to zoom in 🤣

Jungkook [18:18]: Maybe her sleep moaning finally got to be enough for hyung and they slept together!

Taehyung [18:19]: I think you’re onto something, Kookie! 🧐

You [18:21]: No! Nothing has happened! 🙄

Hoseok [18:21]: What is this about ___ sleep moaning??? 😳

You [18:22]: We’re not gonna talk about that! 😤

Jungkook [18:22]: Buy some earplugs, just saying 😇

You [18:22]: Kook! 👿

Jimin [18:26]: You can keep telling us nothing happened, but the hickey speaks for itself. 😇

Jimin [18:26]: Congratulations both 🎉 I’m glad you finally get some quality dick, ___. Hyung, be good to her 🙂

Jungkook [18:28]: I’m so happy that my part of the vacation is over, imagine sleeping in the top bunk of the van now 🫣💀

Yoongi [18:33]: We won’t do it with one of you sleeping right above us, relax 🙄

Jimin [18:34]: 👏👏👏

Jimin [18:34]: You know that Holly isn’t soundproof, right? I could still hear you from our tent 🙃

Yoongi [18:39]: Maybe it’s a good idea to buy earplugs then 😏

Namjoon [18:40]: 😳

With a chuckle and a shake of your head, you decide it’s time to give your phone a break.

Your friends in the group chat have already bombarded you with teasing messages, and you can practically hear their laughter through the screen.

You put down your phone, relishing the feeling of being unplugged from the virtual world and fully immersed in the real one – a cozy campfire, a delicious meal, and the warm company of Yoongi.

As you join Yoongi by the campfire, the aroma of the cooking dinner filling the air, you can’t help but grumble in frustration as your phone continues to buzz with messages from your friends.

With a dramatic sigh, you pull out your phone, the group chat still alive and buzzing with cheeky comments. You glance at the screen, reading words like ‘earplugs,’ ‘moaning,’ ‘about time,’ and ‘dick,’ causing a mix of embarrassment and amusement to wash over you.

“Why did you have to tell them?”

You groan, clearly flustered by their teasing. You look at Yoongi, hoping for some sympathy or perhaps an explanation for your current predicament.

“They were going to find out sooner or later anyway. And I think Jimin had a hunch,” he laughs, his shoulders shrugging nonchalantly. His laughter is infectious, and you can’t help but join in, realizing that there’s no escaping the playful banter of your friends.

You set your phone aside, deciding to embrace the teasing and enjoy the moment with Yoongi, who seems to take it all in stride.

The campfire crackles, and the two of you share a knowing glance, finding comfort in each other’s company amidst the good-natured ribbing from your friends.

As you settle down on your stools and start to savor the meal Yoongi has prepared, the ambiance around the campfire becomes serene. The crackling of the fire provides a soothing background melody, and the surrounding forest exudes a sense of tranquility.

The two of you share stories and anecdotes, your laughter filling the air as you recount the adventures you’ve had together. The flickering firelight casts playful shadows on your faces, accentuating the intimate atmosphere.

As you take bites of the delicious meal, you exchange glances, each bite strengthening the bond between you. Underneath the starlit sky, you find yourselves lost in each other’s conversation and the warmth of the campfire, cherishing these moments of togetherness in the heart of nature.

The following morning, long before the sun had a chance to paint the sky with its golden hues, you were already a flurry of activity.

The anticipation of witnessing the magic of a sunrise from atop the mountain has stirred something deep within you, an irresistible call to adventure that you can’t ignore. In the gentle pre-dawn light, you sit down with Yoongi to a humble breakfast of yesterday’s leftovers, savoring the flavors that still linger from your campfire-cooked dinner.

Each bite is a reminder of the simple joys that nature and Yoongi’s company bestows upon you.

After nourishing your bodies, you donn your hiking gear. The familiar weight of your backpack, filled with essentials for the journey ahead, settling comfortably on your shoulders. The laces of your sturdy hiking boots are expertly tied, ready to carry you to new heights.

Outside, the air hangs heavy, draped in a delicate shroud of mist that clings to the trees like a whispering secret. It’s as though the forest has donned a mystical cloak, transforming the ordinary woods into an enchanted realm from a fairy tale.

As you and Yoongi venture deeper into this ethereal landscape, the fog paints the world with an otherworldly charm. The trees, their gnarled branches reaching for the heavens, looms like ancient sentinels guarding the secrets of the woods.

Each step you take stirs the damp earth beneath your boots, releasing the intoxicating aroma of dew-kissed leaves and rich, fertile soil.

Your journey commences with each step, retracing the familiar path that led past the captivating waterfall you had encountered the day before. The sound of rushing water serenades you, its glistening cascade illuminated by the subtle hues of twilight. It’s as if nature itself had prepared a prelude for the grand spectacle to come.

As you venture higher into the mountain’s embrace, a gentle ascent that mirrors your anticipation, the world around you begins to transform.

The inky darkness of night slowly relinquishes its hold, granting way to the soft, ephemeral blush of dawn. The sky, painted in a canvas of purples and blues, seems to acknowledge the imminent arrival of the sun. In the east, a delicate orange ember emerges on the horizon, a harbinger of the magnificent sunrise that awaits you.

The very fabric of the sky begins to shift, transforming from the tranquil coolness of night into the vibrant warmth of morning. It is a slow and deliberate metamorphosis, nature’s own symphony of colors and light, playing out just for you.

A serene clearing emerges beneath the canopy of the forest, a natural amphitheater carved by the hand of time itself. While it isn’t the highest point of your journey, it offers a vantage point that feels like an exclusive front-row seat to one the cosmos’ most exquisite performances.

Here, you decide to pause, the world around you falling into hushed reverence for the celestial spectacle about to unfold. The very essence of the morning seems to gather around this sacred spot, as if nature had designed it solely for moments like these.

As you settle down amidst the tranquil embrace of the clearing, your senses seem to sharpen, attuned to the subtle symphony of nature. The forest around you was still, each leaf holding its breath in anticipation. The air carries the earthy scent of dew-kissed leaves, the morning’s first breath imbued with the promise of a new day.

The horizon is a canvas of vibrant hues, a masterpiece of oranges and pinks intermingling with the last vestiges of the night’s indigo. The sun, still an unassuming ember, hovers just below the edge of the world, poised to set the sky ablaze with its radiance.

The sun, casting its golden hues over the world, paints an ethereal dance on Yoongi’s skin. Each ray of sunlight, as if with intention, traces the contours of his face, highlighting the exquisite features that have captured your heart. His skin, kissed by the gentle warmth of the morning sun, seem to glow from within, emanating a natural radiance that defies explanation. The dappled shadows play along the edges of his features, accentuating the depth of his gaze, the curve of his lips, and the line of his jaw.

As you hold his hand, fingers entwine in a silent testament to your bond, you marvel at how he transforms in this soft morning light. His eyes, those windows to his soul, hold a quiet wisdom that transcends words. They cradle the promise of new beginnings, just like the rising sun.

You nestle your head against the crook of Yoongi’s neck, your cheek pressing tenderly against his skin, as if seeking refuge in the warmth of his embrace. A contented sigh escapes your lips, carrying with it the weight of your feelings, heavy with love and adoration.

Your voice, soft and intimate, is a gentle caress, lacing every word with the depth of your emotions.

“This is nice,” you whisper, the words carrying the essence of the moment—a moment where time stands still, and all that matters is the two of you, entwined in the beauty of the sunrise. His response is a silent affirmation of your sentiment, “It really is.”

Yoongi’s fingers interlock with yours again, a tangible link that mirrors the bond of your hearts. There’s no need for elaborate declarations or grand gestures; the simplicity of this experience is enough to convey the depth of your love.

You remain in that tranquil embrace for what feels like an eternity, though it is a mere thirty minutes that passes—the very same amount of time it takes for the sun to complete its mesmerizing ascent. As the golden orb inches higher into the sky, painting the world with hues of orange and pink, you’re enveloped by an overwhelming sense of contentment.

“Ah, sorry,” a soft, apologetic voice intrudes upon your reverie, drawing your attention away from the captivating sunrise. Startled by the interruption, you turn to find a passerby, their presence briefly disrupting the cocoon of intimacy you and Yoongi have created.

Breaking the spell, you rise from your serene perch, extending a hand towards Yoongi as you seek to regain the moment’s magic. He accepts your invitation with a nod, understanding your unspoken desire to continue your adventure. Together, hand in hand, you decide to venture further up the trail, in pursuit of new vistas.

In tandem you embark on your ascent up the mountain trail, the path gradually becoming steeper and more challenging. As the elevation increases, so do the physical demands of the hike, leaving you both breathless and perspiring. Each step is a testament to your determination and shared commitment to reaching new heights.

The mountain’s relentless climb seems to conspire against you, testing your endurance and resilience. The air grows thinner, and the weight of the ascent bares down on your chests, making each inhalation feel like a battle against gravity itself. Yet, you press on, fueled by the promise of a breathtaking view awaiting you at the peak.

“We should take a break,” Yoongi suggests, his voice tinged with a hint of laughter as he gently pulls you away from the challenging mountain trail and into the soothing embrace of the forest.

Despite your determination, the physical strain of the ascent has left you panting and gasping for breath. “You’re a panting and groaning mess,” he says, as you follow him willingly, your face displaying a playful pout behind his back.

In the heart of the forest, surrounded by the tranquil sounds of nature, you find respite from the relentless climb. The cool shade of the trees provides a much-needed refuge from the sun’s unforgiving rays. As you settle down, you can't help but admire how Yoongi’s eyes sparkle with amusement, and you share a knowing smile, appreciating the momentary escape from the strenuous hike.

“And you’re turning me on.”

Yoongi confesses with a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he playfully pushes you up against a tree.

You can’t help but burst into laughter, utterly bewildered by his comment.

“How the heck can I be turning you on? We’re just walking!” you exclaim, your amusement clear, but you wince slightly as you rub your shoulder. The impact with the tree isn't entirely pleasant, but thankfully, your backpack absorbed most of the force.

A feral growl escapes from Yoongi’s lips as he closes the distance between you, his gaze intense and hungry.

His tongue darts out to lick his lips, as if he’s ready to devour you whole. “First,” he huskily begins, his voice dripping with desire, “you’re panting and groaning, and it’s making me think of sex with you. Second,” he continues, his eyes never leaving yours, “your ass in those tights is nothing short of sinful.”

He shamelessly runs his hand down your body, slowly sliding one of his legs between yours, igniting a fiery desire impossible to ignore.

Your senses are ablaze as desire courses through you, and you can’t help but wonder if he can feel the evidence of your arousal even through your tights.

You gulp audibly, your heart racing at his word. “Babe, you’re already wet,” he says with a teasing chuckle, his voice carrying a hint of menace that sends shivers down your spine.

Before you can react, he dives in, capturing your lips with a passionate, forceful kiss.

Your backpack straps fall to your sides, and the backpack thuds to the ground, forgotten. You moan into his mouth, your body trembling as his thigh rubs provocatively against your clothed core, stoking the flames of desire that burn within you, leaving you yearning for him in every possible way.

“Shit, Yoongi, I want you,” you confess, your voice laced with desire and urgency. But then doubt creeps in, and you hesitate, voicing your concern, “But what if someone sees us?”

Your arousal is undeniable, but so is your fear of being caught doing something intimate in a public place.

“No one will see, and you’ll be quiet, yeah?”

He insists, pressing his body firmly against yours, his breath hot against your ear. You gulp, your heart racing with anticipation, and nod in agreement.

The thrill of the risk and the promise of passion in this secret nook overwhelm your senses, making it impossible to resist his advances.

“Turn around then,” he murmurs, delivering a playful slap to your ass as you obediently pivot, your front now pressed against the rough bark of the tree.

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel the coolness of the tree against your heated skin, contrasting with the warmth building within you.

Yoongi swiftly discards his backpack, the thug echoing through the serene forest as it hits the ground. His strong hands find your hips, fingers gripping firmly as he grinds his already hard dick against your ass. The sensation sends a shiver of desire coursing through your body, and you arch your back, craving more of his touch.

“Do you have a condom?” you ask him in between pants.

“No,” he breaths, “did you pack some by chance?” he asks you back, slightly frustrated.

“It’s not exactly standard hiking gear,” you quip between gasps and laughter, your excitement mingling with the absurdity of the situation.

Yoongi chuckles too, a mix of amusement and frustration.

“Don’t men carry condoms in their wallets?”

You joke, but it falls flat as Yoongi grunts, “Not everybody does,” he remarks, frustrated as he still feels so aroused and he just wants you now. He’s thinking about fucking you raw, and just the thought alone arouses him so damn much.

“Fuck,” he says as he runs a hand through his long black hair in frustration. “I’m clean, are you?” he asks with a strain to his voice, like it’s taking all of him to hold back.

“Yeah. So what are you waiting for?”

Your words are laced with anticipation and desire as you surrender to the intensity of the moment, ready to give in to the forbidden thrill of your passionate rendezvous in the secluded forest.

Yoongi doesn’t have to be told twice and he immediately gets to work, tugging his pants and boxers down, freeing his cock.

Then he pulls your leggings down with your panties, and as his hard dick meets your bare skin, the tension between you both becomes palpable. His impatient growl reverberates through the stillness of the forest, intensifying the sense of urgency and longing that courses through your bodies.

“I’m sorry it has to be quick and without prep,” in the hushed tones of the forest, his apology carries a weight of longing and frustration, but your reassuring words fill the air with understanding and acceptance.

As your bodies align in the dimly lit woods, the anticipation heightens. Each touch and movement sends waves of desire coursing through your bodies, igniting a fire that threatens to consume every rational thought.

He reaches a hand down between your legs and feels your wetness there and he’s thankful for it, because that means he will most likely slide right in. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you.

“Spread your legs for me.”

The sensation of his hand on your ass sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. His commanding yet considerate touch ignites a spark of desire as you obediently spread your legs, inviting him into the heated embrace of your longing body.

Each movement, every whispered command, intensifies the anticipation of what’s to come.

Your heart races as you brace against the tree, your body arching in an instinctive plea for more.

The primal tension in the air is palpable as he spreads your aching pussy and ass wide, the anticipation building with every moment. As he guides himself into your quivering core, the sensation is a heady mix of pleasure and urgency, each inch of his cock claiming you with a possessive intensity that leaves you breathless.

You grit your teeth against the initial discomfort, your breath catching in your throat.

“I’m sorry. I promise it’ll feel better soon,” his soothing words wash over you like a balm, and you nod, your trust in him unwavering.

As you both hold still for a moment, you feel the tension slowly ebbing away. Each measured thrust sends waves of sensation rippling through your body, transforming the initial pain into a cascade of pleasure that threatens to consume you.

“Fuck.”

You cling to the tree, feeling the rugged bark against your palms, grounding you in the intensity of the moment, as he is fully sheathed inside you.

“Shhh, babe,” he hushes you, “you don’t want anybody to hear us.”

His voice is a sultry whisper, a tantalizing secret shared only between you and the wilderness that surrounds you.

Each thrust carries the promise of ecstasy, a stolen moment of passion amidst the serene backdrop of the forest. Your hushed moans blend with the sounds of nature, a symphony of desire that sings with each rhythmic plunge, creating a delicious tension that electrifies the air.

The primal intensity of him, bare and unrestrained, sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Every movement, every stroke, feels like a forbidden dance in the heart of the wild, where desire meets nature’s untamed beauty.

You bite your lip, trying to suppress the mounting sensations, but it’s a futile effort as your body betrays you with involuntary quivers and moans, blending your cries of pleasure with the rustling leaves and whispering trees around you.

“Fuck you feel incredible without a condom on.”

He whispers in your ear and your mind is a whirlwind of ecstasy as his words send shockwaves of desire through your body.

The feeling of him, raw and unrestrained, makes you feel more connected to him than ever before.

You can’t help but respond, you voice a breathy symphony of pleasure, “Yoongi, don’t stop,” you moan, your nails digging into the tree bark as he continues to drive you to the brink of ecstasy.

His words send a jolt of desire through you, igniting a fiery connection between your bodies. Your inner muscles clench around him, a natural response to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. The sensation is electrifying, like a current of euphoria surging through your core. His hiss of pleasure only fuels you more.

With each powerful thrust, a symphony of sensation washes over you. His primal need for you drives him deeper, igniting a wild, intoxicating connection between your bodies.

Your grip on the tree tightens in tandem with his unrelenting pace, fingers digging into the rough bark as if anchoring yourself to the moment.

His head rests against your neck, warm breath brushing against your skin, while his teeth gently graze your shoulder, an instinctual response to stifle his moans.

As Yoongi continues his relentless pace, the boundaries between pleasure and the outside world blur into a tantalizing haze.

Every thrust sends shivers of ecstasy through your body, and the sensations become your entire universe.

The wild, unbridled connection between you and him transcends the awareness of the world around you. In the back of your mind, you vaguely notice the subtle symphony of nature surrounding you – the rustling leaves and twigs breaking getting closer.

Fuck.

Your voice trembles as you speak, the urgency of the situation sinking in.

“Yoongi, I think somebody’s coming,” you gasp, your words barely above a whisper, but laced with fear and desire.

The possibility of being caught adds an electrifying edge to the added arousal you feel.

“It’s probably just a squirrel,” he reassures you, his voice strained with the effort to keep his own excitement at bay.

His relentless thrusts continue, each one driving you both closer to the edge. But in the distance, the sound of footsteps grows louder and closer, a faint but undeniable presence that sends a shiver down your spine.

Frantically, he picks up his pace even more, his hips slamming into you with a fervor matched only by the urgency of the approaching footsteps.

Your muffled moans mix with his heavy breathing as your bodies move in unison, chasing the euphoria that hovers just beyond your reach. The tension in the air is palpable, a heady mix of desire and the fear of discovery, pushing you both to the brink.

You’re startled by a man’s voice calling out, “Anybody here? Are you alright?”

Panic surges through you as you realize you might be caught in the act, but strangely, the thrill of being watched intensifies the sensations coursing through you body.

Your heart pounds, and you feel your orgasm approaching like a freight train, careening toward you with unstoppable force.

Yoongi doesn’t know if you should answer the man or not, who clearly thinks you’re in distress. He breaths against your ear all the same, “Answer him, babe. Maybe he’ll go away then.”

His voice is laced with urgency, and he increases his pace, trying to push you both to the edge before the intruder gets any closer.

Does he really want you to speak to someone while he fucks you? You’re afraid that your unsteady voice will betray you, but you really want whoever is closing in on you to go away. So, you steady your voice and yell, “We’re fine,” in a tone that’s slightly higher than usual. The words come out rushed and strained, but you hope they’ll do the trick and make the stranger go away.

As Yoongi thrusts hard into you again, both of you teetering on the edge of climax, he whispers, “Good girl.”

His voice is strained with desire and a hint of urgency, intensifying the sensation coursing through your body.

The footsteps don’t retreat as you had hoped; instead, they draw even closer, sending a shiver of anxiety down your spine again. Fuck.

The fear of being discovered intensifies the sensations coursing through your body, pushing you relentlessly over the edge. Your walls tighten around Yoongi’s throbbing cock, and your vision blurs as a wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Desperate to stifle your rising moans, you sink your teeth into your bottom lip.

Yoongi’s release surges through him in powerful waves, and he can’t help but revel in the overwhelming pleasure. Yet, the urgency of the situation forces him to act quickly.

He withdraws from your pulsating pussy, still throbbing with desire, and swiftly pulls up his boxers and pants. With equal haste, he helps you rearrange your clothing, his breath ragged and a mix of satisfaction and anxiety in his eyes.

“Hi, I heard weird noises,” a man stands before you, his eyes scanning your disheveled appearance and your flushed cheeks, a bead of sweat trickling down your temple.

“I wanted to make sure that nobody was in distress,” he says with eyebrows raised in suspicion, appearing genuinely concerned. You and Yoongi exchange a brief, nervous glance, your breaths ragged and your heart races as the stranger’s piercing gaze lingers a moment too long.

The once quiet woods now hum with the echoes of your ragged breaths, a symphony of vulnerability and exhilaration. Yoongi stands beside you, attempting to regain his composure, his chest rising and falling with an uneven cadence.

You, on the other hand, remain a quivering and panting mess, the aftermath of your orgasm still coursing through your veins. Your backpacks haphazardly discarded on the ground.

“We’re fine.”

Yoongi eventually manages to say, his voice slightly hoarse from the unexpected interruption. The awkward silence that lingers during the stranger’s inquiries feels like an eternity, stretching time into an uncomfortable pause. As Yoongi speaks, he feels a mixture of embarrassment and relief washing over him. His earlier intense arousal begins to ebb away, replaced by a more composed state of mind.

“Are you sure?”

The stranger directs his question to you, and your heart momentarily skips a beat.

You hastily gather your wits, aware of the need for a convincing response. Taking a deep breath, you lock eyes with the concerned passerby.

“Yes,” you assert, your voice trembling ever so slightly. You feel the weight of the lie as it leaves your lips, and you hope with all your might that it’s convincing enough. “This is my boyfriend – he was just pushing me too hard against the trail, and I’m in really bad shape. That’s why I’m out of breath.”

You silently pray that your words paint a believable picture, all while Yoongi stands beside you, maintaining a façade of casual exhaustion, the intensity of the recent encounter still lingering in his eyes. The stakes are high, and the act must hold for just a little longer.

Yoongi looks at you with a mixture of astonishment and admiration, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. You can see the subtle curve of his lips, hinting at a proud and relieved smile that he tries to conceal. It’s as if he’s realizing just how quick-witted and resourceful you can be in a pinch.

To truly convince the stranger, you instinctively pull Yoongi into a tight embrace, as if seeking refuge in his arms.

Your lips meet his in a hurried yet convincing kiss, one filled with genuine affection and a hint of urgency. As you pull away, you can’t help but feel the lingering warmth of his lips against yours, a stark contrast to the shivers coursing through your body.

Beneath your hurried facade, you’re acutely aware of the discomfort caused by the sticky remnants of your passionate encounter. Your panties cling uncomfortably to your sensitive skin, and you can’t help but frown in concern.

You can feel Yoongi’s cum starting to leak out of your pussy and deep down, you hope and pray that there are no visible signs of it.

The stranger regards both of you for a few more seconds, as if trying to read the truth in your eyes.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, hoping that your hastily crafted lie has convinced him. Sweat beads form on your forehead, and you wonder if he can see through your facade.

Then, with a subtle nod and a skeptical yet understanding expression, the stranger seems to accept your explanation.

Relief washes over you, like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. You share a glance with Yoongi, and there’s a silent exchange of gratitude and relief in your eyes.

As you and Yoongi hoist your backpacks onto your shoulders, you exchange one last polite nod with the stranger. His gaze follows you, a hint of lingering curiosity in his eyes, but he says nothing more.

With a renewed sense of urgency, you and Yoongi turn away from him, your footsteps falling in sync on the trail. The forest envelopes you once again, the trees whispering secrets and the leaves cushioning your every step.

Silence settles between you and Yoongi for a moment, but it’s a comfortable silence, laced with the knowledge of the thrilling encounter you just had. Your hearts still race, and every rustle of leaves makes you turn your head, half-expecting the stranger to reappear.

“Oh my god, that was my worst nightmare come true!”

You exclaim, your voice hushed but filled with urgency, as you and Yoongi put some distance between yourselves and the stranger. Your heart still races, and your words tumble out in a breathless rush.

“I can’t believe we got caught like that.”

You glance at Yoongi, your eyes wide with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. The two of you share a quick, nervous laugh.

“Ouch, was I that bad?” Yoongi pouts in mock offense, his lips forming an adorable sulk as he glances at you. But before you can respond, he playfully nudges you with his shoulder, eliciting a soft giggle from you. His laughter mixes with yours, the tension of the moment dissipating like morning mist under the sun.

You playfully slap him across his chest, a mischievous sparkle in your eyes. “No! You know what I mean,” you tease, your voice laced with affectionate sarcasm. “You were incredible,” you add, letting your fingers linger on his chest, tracing invisible patterns, a silent promise of more to come.

“That might have been your worst nightmare, but babe,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I felt how your pussy clenched more as he got closer.” His teasing tone is met with a hint of a smirk as he leans in closer. Your cheeks flush even redder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You reply with a sly grin, your footsteps quickening as you lead the way up the trail. You look back over your shoulder, catching his eye with a playful glint. It’s a silent invitation for him to chase after you, a wordless promise of more adventures to come.

“Just admit you’re an exhibitionist at heart, babe.”

He teases with a hearty laugh. You huff in response, but deep down, a rush of conflicting emotions surges through you. A mixture of embarrassment, excitement, and a newfound sense of liberation. It’s as though this unexpected encounter has unlocked a hidden facet of your desires, one you never knew existed.

“Also, can we talk about me being your boyfriend?”

He asks, his gaze intense and searching, his eyes locking onto your blushing face. In the heat of the moment, you have forgotten your mishap when you spoke with the stranger, and now anxiety bubbles up within you. You stammer for words, your mind racing as you mumble incoherently, desperately hoping he won’t be upset.

He comes to a sudden halt, his fingers gently but firmly wrapping around your arms, and he fixes his gaze deep into your eyes.

A hint of vulnerability shines through his expression as he says, “I liked it.”

His voice is soft and sincere. A warm smile graces his lips, and you can sense the honesty behind those words, making your heart flutter with a mixture of relief and affection.

Your tense features immediately soften, and a wave of relief washes over you. You feel yourself melting in his embrace, his touch reassuring and warm.

With wide eyes filled with wonder, you whisper, “You did?”

The words hang in the air, heavy with emotion, as you search his eyes for confirmation.

“Yeah. In fact, I’ve been thinking about it for a few days,” he admits, scratching the back of his head, his vulnerability endearing. As you gaze into his deep brown eyes, you sense a whirlwind of emotions, but love shines through, swirling like a gentle current that binds your hearts together.

“I’ve been tormenting myself with this for the past few weeks,” you confess, the weight of your feelings finally spilling out. “I’ve been desperate to define what we are. And, honestly, it didn’t help when you introduced me as your ‘friend’ to your family.” The words hang in the air, charged with the uncertainty and longing that have been building within you for so long.

“If I had introduced you as my girlfriend,” he chuckles, “my mom would’ve started planning our wedding right then and there. And babies? Oh, she’d be all over that.”

His laughter is infectious, and you can’t help but smile at his words, even if you’re still pouting playfully.

“But didn’t your sister do that anyway?”

You playfully shove him, joining in on his laughter. “I swear, your family is all about weddings and baby plans.”

“That’s because she’s noisy and has a sixth sense,” he tells you with a playful grin, wrapping an arm around your waist as you both start walking again. “But hey, I promise not to pressure you for babies anytime soon.”

“You’re not pressuring me,” you say with a reassuring smile, looking into his eyes. “If anything, I’ll probably be the one pressuring you about that. I’m almost 30, and I’m not getting any younger. I’m not saying I want kids right now, but in the future, yes.”

He meets your gaze with a soft, heartfelt expression. “I do too,” he says, his voice filled with sincerity and a touch of vulnerability.

“So, do you want to date me, exclusively?”

You ask, turning your head toward him, your smile radiating warmth. His eyes light up with excitement as he responds, “God, yes.”

His hands find yours, and you intertwine your fingers, feeling a rush of emotions. In that moment, it feels like your heart might burst with love. He’s finally officially yours, and you are his.

You turn around, catching his lips in a soft, tender kiss, sealing your newfound commitment with a sweet and heartfelt gesture.

You continue your hike hand in hand, reaching the summit of the mountain a few hours later. The view from the top is nothing short of breathtaking, with the sun casting a warm, golden hue over the landscape. The two of you stand there, silently taking in the beauty that surrounds you, feeling a deep connection between your intertwined fingers.

However, a persistent reminder of your passionate encounter still lingers – your damp panties, a consequence of both the intense hike and the thrilling escapade earlier. You can’t help but wish you had packed a spare pair, as you feel a mixture of sweat and his cum leaving you in a constant state of arousal.

The next day, you revel in the newfound bliss of having Yoongi officially as your boyfriend.

Your morning is drenched in the soft, golden light filtering through the curtains, and you can’t resist the urge to express your love. With delicate kisses, you trace a path along his neck, leaving a trail of affectionate, crimson imprints in your wake, each mark a testament to your newfound love.

After another exhilarating hike, you stumble upon a magnificent waterfall, its cascading waters shimmering in the sunlight. The sheer force of nature’s beauty leaves you in awe. But as the day wears on, your fatigue catches up with you.

Your feet ache from the miles you’ve trekked in the past few days. Each step back to Holly feels like a triumph over your body’s protests, a testament to the incredible adventures you’ve shared.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow inside the van, Yoongi suggests a mutual foot massage to ease the fatigue that has settled into your limbs. You eagerly agree, both wanting to give and receive comfort after a long day of hiking.

You settle into a cozy spot on the bed, your legs stretched out, and Yoongi’s foot cradled in your lap.

His strong, nimble fingers start working their magic, tracing delicate patterns on your skin, expertly kneading away the day’s tension. It feels like heaven as he finds and releases every knot and kink in your tired feet, making you sigh in bliss. You can’t help but marvel at how skilled he is, not just with his hands but in everything he does.

You return the favor, your fingers replicating his motions on his own tired feet. The exchange of care and affection in this intimate moment strengthens the bond between you.

As you both lose yourselves in the rhythmic dance of your fingers, you’re reminded that it’s not just about the massages; it’s about the love and closeness you share, making each touch all the more meaningful.

After leaving the previous campsite, you decide to explore further, heading north to Yeongdeok.

There, you stumble upon a hidden gem—a quaint park tucked away amidst nature’s embrace. The park boasts a winding hiking trail, promising adventure and serenity in equal measure.

At the trailhead, you’re greeted by a lush canopy of trees that sway gently in the breeze, their leaves casting playful shadows on the ground. The earthy scent of the forest fills your nostrils as you begin your ascent. Birds sing melodious tunes, creating a harmonious backdrop to your journey.

As you reach the pinnacle of the trail, your efforts are rewarded with a breathtaking view that leaves you in awe. Before you, stretch the endless expanse of the sea, its azure waters stretch out as far as the eye can see. Below, mighty cliffs and jagged rocks rise from the depths, standing sentry against the relentless waves.

The sea’s rhythmic ballet is hypnotic, its waves crashing against the cliffs with both force and grace, as if engaged in an eternal dance.

You and Yoongi stand in silence, absorbing the sheer majesty of this natural spectacle. It’s moments like these, when you’re surrounded by the untamed beauty of the world, that you feel the most alive, connected not just to nature but to each other.

“It’s really beautiful.”

Inhaling deeply, you let the sheer beauty of the ocean and cliffs wash over you, filling your lungs with the crisp, salty air. Beside you, Yoongi, his eyes reflecting the same awe you feel, interlaces his fingers with yours, his silent affirmation of the breathtaking panorama before you.

After leaving the serene park, you and Yoongi embark on a short drive to a beach; a local secret with crystal-clear waters that rival even the most exotic of destinations.

The moment your toes touch the powdery sand, a sense of tranquility washes over you. The sun kisses your skin, its warmth like a gentle embrace, and you slip into your bathing suit, feeling the soft fabric hug your body. Yoongi stands beside you, a grin of pure joy on his face, as you both take in the panorama before you.

The water stretches out, a palette of blues and greens merging in a harmonious blend, inviting you to explore its depths.

Hand in hand, you and Yoongi walk along the shoreline, the cool, foamy waves lapping at your feet. It’s a sensory symphony—the sound of the waves crashing, the salty tang of the sea in the air, and the soft caress of the sand underfoot.

As you wade into the shallow water, you can’t help but steal glances at each other, laughter bubbling up as the gentle waves playfully tease you. The ocean’s embrace is both invigorating and soothing, a bittersweet reminder that your vacation days are numbered. You’re determined to savor every precious moment together, etching these memories into your hearts before the inevitable chill of autumn arrives.

Following a day of exploration and seaside delight, the two of you stumble upon a charming local restaurant, its rustic façade promising authentic flavors of the coastal town.

With the scent of the sea still lingering in your hair, you step inside and are immediately greeted by the tantalizing aroma of freshly cooked snow crabs, a local delicacy that beckons to your taste buds. Seated at a quaint wooden table with a view of the bustling kitchen, you and Yoongi embark on a culinary adventure.

The dishes arrive, each one a work of art on the plate. The first bite of succulent snow crab sends a burst of flavor that dances across your palate, a symphony of sweet and savory notes that leave you craving more.

As you savor each mouthful, you steal glances at Yoongi, his eyes reflecting the same appreciation for the exquisite meal. There’s a shared understanding between you, an unspoken bond that transcends words—a silent agreement that this moment, this meal, is something special.

The dim, cozy ambiance of the restaurant only adds to the intimacy of the evening. The hours slip away as you indulge in the local cuisine, the flavors becoming more than just food—they’re an experience, a memory etched into your journey. With each bite, you feel closer to the heart of this coastal town and to each other.

As the sun begins its gentle descent beyond the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the landscape, you and Yoongi make your way to a nearby campground.

The day has been a tapestry of unforgettable experiences, from the rugged trails to the soothing embrace of the sea. Now, under the canvas of the night sky, you find solace in the simple yet comforting embrace of your campsite.

With the rhythmic lullaby of crickets and the distant whispers of the breeze in the trees, you set up your cozy haven for the night. The soft glow of your campfire flickers in the darkness, casting dancing shadows that seem to mirror the playful dance of your hearts. The aroma of crackling wood mingles with the scent of the forest, creating an intoxicating blend that fills the air.

You and Yoongi retire to your snug sleeping quarters, cocooned in warmth and each other’s presence. The day’s adventures have left your bodies pleasantly fatigued, and as you lay beneath a blanket of stars, the world seems to fade away.

The hushed conversations and gentle laughter between you are the only sounds in the stillness of the night.

As you continue your journey, the rhythmic hum of Holly’s engine is suddenly interrupted by an ominous noise again, but more prominent than before. At first, it’s a faint whisper, like a distant rumble, but it steadily grows louder and more disconcerting. The unease in the pit of your stomach mirrors the growing intensity of the sound.

Yoongi’s keen ears catch the disturbance too, and his brows furrow in concern.

The two of you exchange worried glances, realizing that this is not a good sign. Holly, your trusted companion on this adventure, seems to be voicing its distress in the only way it knows how.

The noise reverberates through the van, making the situation impossible to ignore. It’s a reminder that even the best-laid plans can be derailed by unexpected challenges. The anticipation and uncertainty hang in the air, creating a sense of urgency as you approach Andong, hoping to find a solution to the growing problem.

With each passing mile, the noise becomes a relentless companion, a constant reminder of the unknown. Your hearts beat in tandem with Holly’s disconcerting rhythm, as you brace yourselves for whatever lies ahead in this unexpected twist of your journey.

In the heart of Andong, Yoongi’s determination leads you to a local garage that radiates a sense of authenticity and warmth.

With a friendly smile and a humble request, he approaches the mechanics and inquires if they might have a hydraulic lift he can borrow for a moment.

The mechanics, deeply rooted in the spirit of their tight-knit community, are quick to oblige. Their willingness to help a stranger on the road is a testament to the hospitality and camaraderie of the place. They nod with understanding and offer Yoongi their trust, allowing him to work on the van in peace.

As Yoongi delves beneath the van’s chassis, the anticipation in the air is palpable.

You watch him with admiration, the clinking of tools and the occasional muttered words of problem-solving creating a symphony of determination. As Yoongi dives into the task at hand, you find yourself drawn into the rhythm of his work.

The garage’s dimly lit interior casts elongated shadows as he meticulously dissects Holly’s front wheel section. The metallic clinks of tools and the soft hum of the overhead lights fill the air, creating a symphony of purposeful activity.

With every piece he carefully removes, the mystery of Holly’s strange noise unravels.

It’s as if he’s conducting a delicate orchestra of mechanics, and you’re an audience of one, enchanted by his expertise.

His hands move with a graceful precision, each movement deliberate and calculated. In this moment, as the problem is revealed under the probing beam of his flashlight, a surge of relief washes over you.

You realize how much you rely on him, not just as your partner in this journey, but as the unwavering troubleshooter who turns setbacks into triumphs.

As the source of the strange noise is pinpointed, a triumphant smile spreads across Yoongi’s face. Holly, a silent witness to your adventures, almost seems to sigh in relief too.

As Yoongi kneels beside the van, his fingers deftly inspecting the worn-out drive shaft cuffs and tightening loose bolts, he begins to explain the intricacies of the van’s inner workings.

Though the technical jargon might as well be a foreign language to you, you’re completely captivated by the way he lights up when he talks about it.

His voice, a soothing blend of confidence and passion, weaves a story of mechanical marvels and engineering wizardry. Each word he utters carries the weight of expertise, and as you watch his hands move with the grace of a seasoned craftsman, you can’t help but admire his mastery of the subject. Even though the details might elude you, the admiration in your eyes speaks volumes. Listening to Yoongi, you realize how love can infuse even the most mundane topics with magic.

The way he pours his heart into this moment, explaining the van’s ailments and the remedies required, makes you fall in love with him all even more.

In this garage, surrounded by the scent of grease and the echoes of tinkering tools, you find yourself not just appreciating his mechanical expertise but also marveling at the depth of your bond.

As he wraps up his explanation, you can’t help but smile, grateful for the chance to witness his passion and to be a part of this adventure with him.

As Yoongi approaches the garage owners with a confident smile, you can’t help but admire his resourcefulness. It’s one of those moments that showcase his determination and practical problem-solving skills.

The owners, a pair of weathered but friendly faces, nod in acknowledgment as Yoongi explains his needs. With a swift exchange of money, the spare parts are in his hands, and he’s back at work.

The tools clink and clank, echoing in the garage like a symphony of repair. As he meticulously replaces the worn-out cuffs and tightens the loose screws, you stand by, a silent witness to his dedication. The rhythm of his movements, the focused look on his face, and the occasional muttering to himself all paint a portrait of a man wholly engrossed in his task.

“I’m done now, thank you for waiting.”

Yoongi’s voice breaks through the ambient sounds of the garage, pulling you from your quiet contemplation. His beaming smile and the way he wipes his oiled hands on his pants are endearing, a testament to his pride in a job well done.

You rise from where you were leaning against a nearby shelf, your own smile mirroring his. With every step you take towards him, it’s not just Holly that’s been repaired; it’s your faith in each other and your ability to navigate life’s unexpected detours.

He pulls you into a warm, oil-scented embrace, his chest pressed against yours. His heartbeat, steady and reassuring, matches the rhythm of your own.

Unable to contain your admiration, you offer a compliment with a playful smile, “I enjoyed watching you work,” but your cheeks betray you with a blush that rises like a cresting wave, “you look hot.”

His fingers, stained with grease and oil, brush gently against your cheek as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving the warmth of his rough hands against your skin.

“My hands are dirty, babe.”

He murmurs, his voice a low, husky timbre that sends a thrill through your entire body. He attempts to pull away, to spare you from the grime that clings to his skin.

But you can’t bring yourself to care about the dirt when his touch feels like an electric jolt of desire. With a fierce determination, you reach out and capture his hands, fingers entwining with his in a passionate embrace.

“I don’t care,” you declare, your voice breathless with longing. You pull him closer, your lips meet in a fiery kiss that speaks of desire and a bond too strong to be deterred by something as trivial as dirty hands.

His laughter dances against your lips, a carefree melody that sets your heart ablaze.

You pull back slightly, your eyes meeting his with a mischievous spark.

“Maybe we should take this show on the road,” he suggests, his voice a teasing whisper that sends a thrill through your body. His playful demeanor matches the twinkle in his eyes as he senses the curious gazes of onlookers.

With a soft chuckle, you lean back, breaking the passionate kiss but keeping your connection alive. You both share a knowing look, acknowledging the audience that has unintentionally gathered around. Some wear frowns, their disapproval thinly veiled, while others struggle to look away, curiosity getting the best of them.

After a heartfelt exchange of gratitude with the garage owners, you and Yoongi set out for a local campground nestled just beyond the town’s outskirts.

Holly’s engine hums with a newfound vibrancy, the haunting clicks and pops replaced by a reassuring purr, a testament to Yoongi’s skillful repair work.

As you approach the campground, the world begins to transform.

The air is infused with the earthy scent of the surrounding woods, and the fading sunlight casts a warm, golden hue over the landscape. Tall trees stand sentinel, their rustling leaves whispering secrets of countless stories shared beneath their branches.

Arriving at the campground, you find a secluded spot, the van settling into its new temporary home.

As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, Yoongi takes charge of creating a campfire. With practiced ease, he gathers dry twigs and kindling, coaxing life into the flames until they crackle and dance in the gathering darkness.

The firelight cast playful shadows, creating an intimate circle of warmth and light.

Together, you prepare a simple yet delicious dinner over the campfire. The scent of roasting marshmallows and the savory aroma of grilled vegetables fills the air, mingling with the smoky fragrance of the crackling wood.

The orange glow of the flames paints your faces in a warm, flickering embrace as you share stories, laughter, and the occasional playful banter.

Despite your best intentions, your contributions to the culinary efforts may have been minimal, but the camaraderie of preparing a meal together adds a touch of charm to the evening.

With satisfied appetites and hearts full of contentment, you both settle in for a restful night’s sleep. The soft rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze plays a soothing lullaby, accompanied by the distant murmur of a nearby stream. Wrapped in your cozy duvets, you drift into dreams beneath the vast, starlit canopy of the night sky.

The next day, you are eager to immerse yourselves in the rich traditions of Andong, a town steeped in history.

As you step onto the cobblestone streets, a sense of timelessness washes over you. Andong has a unique charm, an old-world aura that whispers stories of centuries past. Wandering through the town, you discover quaint hanok houses with curved roofs, each adorned with intricate wooden carvings and papered windows.

The streets are lined with vibrant flowers, their colors popping against the backdrop of ancient buildings. Occasionally, you encounter locals in traditional hanbok attire, a living connection to the town’s heritage.

Though the Mask Festival, a renowned celebration of culture and art, has yet to arrive, the beginning of it was already underway as it is just one week away. Small shops and stalls display intricate masks, some whimsical, others deeply solemn. You can’t resist the allure of these artistic creations and pick up a few as keepsakes.

As the first light of dawn gently kisses the horizon, you wake up to the promise of a new day’s adventure.

The crisp morning air, tinged with the faint aroma of last night’s dinner, fills your senses. With the remnants of a hearty meal beckoning from the campfire’s embers, you decide to start your day with a taste of yesterday’s flavors.

Sitting beside the smoldering fire, you savor the rich and comforting taste of the previous night’s meal. The warmth of the flames caress your skin, contrasting the cool mountain breeze that rustles through the surrounding trees.

Each bite of food is a reminder of the shared moments around the campfire and the anticipation of the journey ahead.

With a satisfied belly, you eagerly prepare for the day’s hike.

Your hiking gear, meticulously chosen for comfort and practicality, awaits its next adventure. As you lace up your sturdy boots, the promise of rugged trails and breathtaking vistas fills your thoughts, igniting a spark of excitement. Your backpack, loaded with essentials, feels like a trusty companion ready to accompany you on this mountain odyssey.

You have heard whispers of the legendary Byongdae cliff and the enchanting Pine Tree Forest that graces these mystical mountains. The tales have woven a tapestry of intrigue in your mind, and now, standing on the precipice of reality, you feel an irresistible pull to explore these fabled wonders.

Your journey begins amidst the towering giants of the Pine Tree Forest, a cathedral of nature’s grandeur. As you step into this tranquil grove, the air is saturated with the earthy scent of pine needles, a fragrant welcome that envelops your senses.

The sun filters through the dense canopy above, casting dappled shadows that dance at your feet.

Each step you take feels like a pilgrimage through a sacred woodland, the ancient trees bearing witness to the passage of time itself. You crane your neck to look up, their lofty branches reaching for the heavens, as if sharing secrets with the sky.

Birds serenade you with their melodic tunes, their songs echoing through the forest like a chorus of hidden muses. With each inhalation, you taste the purity of the forest air, a crisp elixir that invigorates your spirit.

As you wander deeper into this verdant sanctuary, you find yourself in the company of nature’s most exquisite creations. The pine trees stand sentinel, their trunks adorned with mossy tapestries, and their branches, adorned with tufts of emerald needles, sway in a gentle, rhythmic ballet.

Emerging from the woodland, you find yourself at the water’s edge, where the tranquil surface mirrors the cerulean sky above.

Here, a quaint wooden ferry awaits, bobbing gently on the crystal-clear waters.

With each paddle stroke, the boat glides effortlessly, carrying you and Yoongi closer to your next adventure.

The cliff looms ahead, a majestic sentinel of nature’s artistry. Its rugged facade rises from the water like a monolithic masterpiece, adorned with mosses and lichens, a testament to the passage of time. The boat docks at its base, and your anticipation grows.

The ascent up the cliff is a thrilling endeavor, each step revealing a new facet of the picturesque village below. The air is invigorating, infused with the scent of salt and pine, while the distant sounds of village life, like the cheerful chatter of locals and the distant bleating of sheep, waft up to greet you.

With every upward stride, the panorama unfolds, transforming the village into a living, breathing diorama beneath the vast expanse of the cerulean sky.

As you finally conquer the summit, a triumphant sense of achievement washes over you.

The world unfolds before your eyes in a breathtaking panorama, a tapestry of nature’s artistry and the village’s quaint charm.

You find a quiet spot to rest, nestled among the craggy rocks, where the gentle breeze carries with it the scent of adventure and the distant laughter of villagers below. Sitting there, you let the serenity of the moment seep into your bones. The sun bathes you in its golden warmth, the crisp mountain air fills your lungs, and the distant chirping of birds adds a harmonious touch to the symphony of nature.

You close your eyes for a moment, feeling the earth beneath you, grounding yourself in this tranquil haven.

As you gaze from the rugged precipice, your voice slips into a soft, almost reverent whisper, “I’ll miss this so much when our vacation ends,” your eyes tracing the contours of the village sprawled far below.

“Weekend camping trips are always an option.”

Yoongi suggests, his gaze lingering on the delicate contours of your face, taking in your beauty.

You turn to face Yoongi, your eyes sparkling with stars, and a surge of wonder and excitement infusing your voice, “Really?”

“Yeah.”

He nods, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek, his finger lightly tracing over your soft lips, leaving a tantalizing sensation in its wake.

Reluctantly, you begin your descent, your steps lighter now, the memories of the panoramic view etched into your heart. The wooden ferry awaits, its creaking timbers echoing with tales of countless journeys.

As you board, the gentle sway of the boat on the water lulls you into a peaceful reverie. You watch as the cliff recedes into the distance, still an indomitable sentinel against the azure sky.

Returning to the village, you carry with you the sense of wonder and accomplishment that only a day spent among nature’s wonders can bring, a memory that will forever remain etched in your mind.

Your exploration also takes you to a serene temple nestled in the hills. The scent of incense hangs in the air as you marvel at the intricate architecture and the palpable sense of tranquility. Yoongi, always with an appreciation for the cultural significance of such places, captures the moment with his camera, preserving the beauty for eternity.

Fatigued from your adventurous day, you and Yoongi decide it’s time to savor the local flavors of Andong.

A quaint restaurant beckons with the promise of culinary delights. The warm, inviting aroma of simmering spices and savory sauces wafts through the air as you step inside.

Seated at a wooden table, you peruse the menu with eager anticipation. Your eyes fall upon the legendary Andong Soju, its allure heightened by its formidable 40% alcohol content. With a knowing glance exchanged between you and Yoongi, you agree to indulge in moderation, not wanting to let the potent elixir spoil your evening.

As you sip the clear, fiery liquid from small glasses, you can feel the warmth spreading through your veins. The Soju carries the essence of Andong, a taste that hints at the town’s history and traditions, and it adds an extra layer of authenticity to your dining experience.

For dinner, you decide to follow the advice of the locals and order the Jjimdak, a delectable dish that embodies the heart of Korean cuisine. Braised chicken and an array of vibrant vegetables, lovingly marinated in rich Korean soy sauce, arrive at your table. The dish is a burst of colors and textures, a tantalizing blend of sweet and savory flavors that dance on your taste buds.

As you dine, you can’t help but admire the cozy ambiance of the restaurant, filled with the cheerful chatter of fellow diners and the soothing melodies of traditional Korean music playing softly in the background.

The flickering candlelight adds a touch of romance to the atmosphere.

Under the dimly lit Andong streets, you and Yoongi stroll hand in hand, feeling the subtle sway of the evening.

The Andong Soju, though sipped cautiously, has lent a gentle, tipsy euphoria to your steps. The world takes on a dreamlike quality as you navigate the winding paths and narrow alleys. As you walk, the night envelops you in a comforting embrace. The soft glow of streetlights casts warm, golden pools on the cobblestone streets, guiding your way.

The air is alive with the distant murmur of laughter and the melodious hum of crickets, serenading your tipsy journey. You steal glances at Yoongi, his features illuminated by the soft city lights. His eyes sparkle with a shared secret, and his smile, slightly crooked from the Soju’s influence, is irresistibly endearing.

Every touch of his hand in yours sends delightful shivers through your tipsy senses.

As you approach Holly, it stands as a steadfast companion, a haven of familiarity in the midst of the Andong night. You pause for a moment, swaying gently together, and share a soft, lingering kiss beneath the moonlight.

The taste of Yoongi and Soju lingers on your lips.

With your hearts light and spirits high, you finally settle into Holly, ready for a restful night’s sleep. The world outside may spin with a tipsy enchantment, but in each other’s arms, you find balance and serenity, cherishing the memories created in the charming town of Andong.

A few days before your planned rendezvous with Joonie, Jinie, and Hobi in Daejeon, you embark on a detour to Gumi, a place of natural beauty and tranquility.

Your destination is the enchanting Geumosan Reservoir, a serene oasis nestled amidst rolling hills and lush forests. As you approach the reservoir, the scent of pine and earth fills the air, awakening your senses to the wilderness that lies ahead.

The anticipation builds in your chest, knowing that an adventure awaits you amidst the pristine landscape.

Upon arrival, you’re greeted by the shimmering waters of the reservoir, reflecting the azure sky like a flawless mirror. The surrounding hills are cloaked in vibrant shades of green, and the soft rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze becomes your symphony.

You and Yoongi don your hiking gear, ready to explore the intricate network of trails that wind through this natural wonder.

The first step onto the trail sends a jolt of excitement through you as the earth crunches beneath your boots, and you feel the rhythm of nature beneath your feet. The hike takes you along paths that meander through dense woods, opening up to breathtaking vistas that steal your breath away.

The cool breeze carries the sweet aroma of wildflowers, and the distant call of birds adds a melodic soundtrack to your journey.

Yoongi’s hand in yours provides a reassuring anchor as you both marvel at the splendor of nature.

Each step forward feels like an adventure, a shared exploration of the world’s wonders.

After a day of hiking, you find a serene spot near the reservoir’s edge to rest. You sit side by side, feet dangling above the crystal-clear water, and share a quiet moment of awe. The world seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the beauty that surrounds you.

“I just love nature,” Yoongi murmurs, leaning gently against your shoulder, his words carrying a sense of serenity, “the tranquility, the freedom to wander and reflect on life.”

You exhale audibly, your voice brimming with happiness, “I completely understand,” you say, your hand finding its way to his thigh, “This getaway is exactly what I needed to escape from the stresses of work,” you add, resting your head against his shoulder and savoring the moment.

He hums in contentment, “Indeed, it sounded like you were in desperate need of a break,” he says, his voice soft and reassuring.

“Yeah, you know I genuinely love my job, but recently the stress has really taken its toll.”

You say, your voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. You can’t help but feel conflicted about your career, torn between your passion for it and the overwhelming stress it sometimes brings.

“I’m grateful this trip has been a relief,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. His words carry a warmth that reassures you, making you appreciate the escape from your daily pressures even more.

You exhale softly, your fingers finding comfort in his, and ask, “What’s your next destination in mind?”

Your eyes meet his, filled with anticipation for the adventures yet to come.

He starts rambling with an endearing enthusiasm, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “I heard about a science center nearby. I know neither of us is a science geek, but I thought it might still be a lot of fun,” he says, his smile revealing those charming gums of his. You can’t help but find it absolutely adorable.

“I’m up for it. Honestly, everything with you is a blast, so I’m all in,” you reply, your voice filled with enthusiasm. You turn your head and punctuate your agreement with a passionate kiss, locking lips with his soft, inviting ones.

Although science has never been your forte, you decide to pay a visit to the local Science Center in Gumi.

As you step into this world of discovery and innovation, you’re pleasantly surprised by the sense of wonder that envelops you. Together with Yoongi, you explore the center’s myriad exhibits, each one a gateway to the extraordinary.

The museum’s interactive displays and hands-on activities offer a chance to hold hands with your boyfriend while delving into the mysteries of the universe.

One exhibit captures your attention—a dazzling planetarium show that transports you to distant galaxies. With the domed ceiling overhead, you and Yoongi recline in cushioned seats, your fingers intertwined, and watch as stars and constellations come to life, painting the cosmos with their celestial beauty.

The immersive experience ignites a newfound curiosity within you, as you realize that science has the power to evoke awe and inspire even to those who never thought they’d be interested.

Leaving the Science Center, you walk hand in hand, the spark of connection between you and Yoongi shining brighter than ever.

As the day unfolds, you and Yoongi decide to hit the bowling alley.

You both step into those classic rented shoes, each pair slightly too large, and claim your own lane, creating a private haven for laughter and competition. The joy of the game isn’t just in the strikes and spares but in the shared experience.

Yoongi, with his effortless bowling prowess, takes the lead. He patiently guides you, showing you how to hold the ball and improve your stance. Despite his best efforts, your balls still veer off course, but it hardly matters. What truly matters is the closeness you share. With each instruction he gives, his hands gently brush against yours, fingers lingering just a moment longer.

You cherish these stolen moments of connection, realizing that it’s not about perfect strikes but the perfect touch and laughter that make this game unforgettable. As the pins clatter and balls roll, you’re grateful for the opportunity to have fun together, even if it means embracing your ineptitude at bowling.

As your journey alone with Yoongi approaches its final destination, you find yourself in Yeongdong, a place where nature’s grandeur unfolds in breathtaking ways. Your destination?

The enchanting Wolrybong peak, a majestic mountain that seems to touch the sky itself.

The ascent is filled with moments of awe as you navigate through winding trails, surrounded by lush, verdant forests. The air is crisp, carrying the scent of pine and earth, invigorating your senses with each breath. The trail occasionally opens up, revealing glimpses of the surrounding cliffs and pristine waters below, a mesmerizing sight that leaves you spellbound.

Upon reaching the summit, you find yourself standing on the edge of the world, overlooking a vast expanse of untouched beauty.

Cliffs stand tall and proud, their rugged faces meeting the azure waters that stretch as far as the eye can see. It’s a scene that defies description, and for a moment, you feel like you’re part of a painting, a tiny speck in the grand canvas of nature.

In those tranquil moments, the world fades away, leaving you and Yoongi with nothing but the majesty of nature surrounding you. You take it all in, cherishing this time together.

As the sun sets behind the peaks, casting a warm, golden hue over the landscape, you can’t help but feel grateful for the opportunity to witness such beauty and to share it with the one you love.

As the days wind down to the end of your adventurous journey, you decide to indulge in a well-deserved period of relaxation. Nestled in the cozy confines of Holly, you and Yoongi find solace in quiet moments together. The gentle hum of nature outside, the soft rustling of leaves, and the distant chirping of birds create a soothing symphony.

Wrapped in each other’s warmth, you savor the simple pleasure of just being together. The world outside may be bustling with activity, but within your private haven, time slows down, allowing you to bask in the tranquility that surrounds you.

There’s a contented sigh as you lean into Yoongi’s comforting embrace, the soft rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in sync with yours.

Holly’s interior becomes your sanctuary, a place where laughter, stories, and stolen kisses create an intimate bond that feels like a haven of love.

As the time comes to drive to Daejeon to reunite with your friends, you do so with hearts full of cherished memories and a renewed sense of connection.

The journey continues, but now it’s not just about the places you visit; it’s about the love and experiences you carry with you, making every mile of the road a testament to your new official relationship.

→ Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 → Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts, @constancelayon, @wobblewobble822, @ktownshizzle, @moonchild1, @ultimatefangirl0, @baechugff, @jimintaemin, @parapiop7, @fckkntired, @iluvfndms, @citypop-princess, @tarahardcore, @bergandysam, @massivelyfullenthusiast, @tatyhend *strikethrough means tumblr isn’t letting me tag you :(

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

216 notes · View notes

soraviie · 2 years ago

Text

tugging at his hair.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader ━ navigation

━ about: angst, fluff, (themes of) smut, the holy trifecta ━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ a/n: may or may not have seen Yoongi's insta pic...may or may not be feeling very normal about it

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: Atypically, your boyfriend was actually quite the whiny guy. Friday evening, time - 20:30. Thanks to some uncanny miracle, Namjoon was free this night and you’d been eager to soak up each other’s company. You sat largely silent, tucked into his side and openly staring, merely breathing an infrequent “yeah” and “no way” so he wouldn’t suspect you were not listening. Though you were not listening, catching the jumping cadence of his offended voice only with the tip of your ears. Far too engrossed in admiring the glowing shade of his skin and furiously working cheeks, you felt your mind slip. Never before have you thought that someone resting on the couch, passively aggressively minding on chips could make your heart bleed with love. But everything about Namjoon was soft and comfortable.

Unwittingly, you zeroed in on the tuft of his hair, poking out from underneath his hoodie. Without fully registering, you trailed your fingers down the hood, pulling it down and proceeded to tug at the back of his hair. Namjoon’s cheeks froze and with mouth full, he glanced at your side.

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t know,” you shrugged. “You’re compelling like that.”

He returned back to the chips, completely unperturbed by the looks of it.

“You need to condition them more,” noting absent-mindedly, you played with whatever strand called your fancy. He rolled his eyes, pinching your bare thigh.

“Ow!

“You should be whispering sweet nothings in my ear,” he grumbled. “Confess how much you adore me, how hot I am.”

“Right,” you agreed, leaning into his expectant expression. “Your hair is also greasy as fuck. You should shower more.”

Violently, he hurled you into the decorative pillows scrunched from your combined weight, frowning at the easy laughter bubbling from your throat.

“I’m dating a bully,” he muttered bitterly, yet when you nosed at his neck, he craned it with no small amount of enthusiasm, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“Sure are,” you purred. “Can I play with your greasy hair more? Pretty please?” His eyes lingered, firmly set on the playing movie, but you reckoned his neck did grow increasingly warmer.

“You’ll do it no matter what I say.”

“‘Cause you’ve never said “no” to me.”

At that, he heaved a tormented sigh.

“True. I’m but a lowly servant of love.”

You chuckled, pushing the black hair away from his forehead, messing it up. After a moment, with a barely concealed grin, he offered:

“Maybe now I can card through your leg hair.”

“Not funny,” you glared at him but Namjoon merely sniggered further on.

“A little funny.”

YOONGI: Your hand was practically aching as it laid listlessly by your side, partially sinking into the plush sofa of his studio. Fully drowned in work, he sat by the monitor, one hand coming to rest by his lips, the other - tinkering with the beat. And his hair - the hair - curled around him like a ring of halo. He drew a heavy sigh, reaching up to muss the chief objects of unease further. Yet you couldn’t just follow the delirious caprice. Yoongi was a guarded man, he liked his personal space and, despite how much you longed for it, you couldn’t just tug at his long hair. The relationship was still fresh and had to be trodden like a melting glacier - nice and easy. Crossing the itching arms over your stomach, you huffed in discontent.

“What?” he suddenly hummed, and you recoiled, assuming he was blissfully ignorant of your lingering stare.

“Nothing,” you replied, but his chair turned, a pair of disbelieving eyes falling your way.

“Just say it.”

“I want to tug at your hair,” the sentence practically rushed out as though your body was actively disregarding your own orders.

“Why don’t you just do it?”

You nibbled with your fingers suddenly feeling rather foolish.

“I want to be respectful,” you muttered underneath the nose, and a second later, you grasped what sound Yoongi was making. Laughing.

He was laughing at you.

Resting his forehead against the desk, you saw his shoulders wag in muffled glee.

“You know,” he faced you, eyes twinkling in amusement. “Most couples grope each other the first chance they get.”

“Oh, shut it,” groaning, you sank into the sofa, only for all objections to wither into the ether once Yoongi lowered his head with a soft “come ‘ere”.

Cautiously, fearing the dream could shatter at the moment’s passing, you made your way to where he sat and with bated breath curled your palm around his fluffy curls, giving them a tender yet generous pull. Something akin to instant relief flooded your system, making the tips of your fingers tingle.

“Enjoying yourself?” Yoongi wondered, the curve of his smile suggesting he was barely holding himself back from teasing you into oblivion. You tugged at his hair once more, this time harder, and a prolonged moan left his lips, startling you both.

“Not as much as you, it seems,” you smirked down at him, enjoying how his eyes flitted away from you, self-conscious red dusting his cheeks.

“Just go for it next time,” he grumbled shyly, making no move to pull away. “Before you give yourself an IBS.”

JIN: He knew what you wanted by the frankly terrifying gleam hidden behind your eye. There was something entirely transfixed passing your expression as you stared at his head with steely determination. Ordinarily, Jin was content with your inexplicable obsession. Rather this than pulling at his cheeks, he reckoned, however, now…

“I won’t pry ________ off of me,” he whined, gazing into a mirror. Even to his completely normal and unscrambled brain, the permed curls resting atop his forehead seemed inviting. Fluffy. Moussed. Reasonably asking to be tugged.

“Oh, what a torture,” Namjoon dragged aridly, perched in the corner, not unlike a sullen owl. “You have someone to go home to who loves to play with your hair. Poor you.”

Graciously ignoring the seeping sarcasm, JIn breathed a tormented sigh.

“I know right.”

Namjoon merely rolled his eyes, returning back to his quiet moping.

When Jin crossed the threshold, he found you immersed in laundry, folding it and turning to greet him home like always.

“Hello!” you exclaimed cheerfully. “How was your da-”

Frightfully, he swallowed. Your expression grew distant and in spite of his jerky movements, your attention never wavered from the top of his head.

“May I eat at least?” he mewled weakly and you nodded just not before actually thinking about it.

After eating in peace, the last one he’d get for the evening, Jin slowly trodded to the bedroom, shoulders hung low in premature defeat. On the other side of the door, you were waiting for him already, blinking expectantly from underneath the covers. After a prolonged groan, he obliged your whims and settled his head on your lap. To get it over with.

Instantly, your fingers delved deep into his curls, tugging and twirling them to your heart’s strange desire.

“How cute,” you gushed. “So fluffy!”

Jin closed his eyes, trying to suppress the blossoming smile. Perhaps, he didn’t entirely hate being coddled in such a fashion but you didn’t need to know that. Unbeknownst, to him, you were more than aware as, in spite of his efforts to mask the pleased grimace, he failed to conceal the ears burning bright red.

HOSEOK: “Sorry,” he said, squirming and glancing to the side. “But no.”

Well, no was no and you just had to learn how to live with it. Every time your hand subconsciously reached to grasp a strand of his hair between your fingers, not really meaning anything good or bad, just doing so out of instinct, you reigned it back, forcing the treasonous hand to ultimately fall unused. It may or may not have taken you a whole year to timidly wonder aloud:

“Why don’t you like for me to touch your hair?”

Hoseok was practically asleep - his voice came crackling from the other side of the bed.

“It’s nothing personal,” he sighed, cracking one eye open, glancing at your demure expression through the dark. “It’s just…” then he fell silent. Only after a pregnant pause, one long enough for you to assume he’d succumbed to sleep, he casually brushed it off:

“It’s just a preference.”

He rolled on the side and the conversation ended there.

“Hey, ______________!” Jimin greeted you brightly the second you took a step inside the partially hidden makeup studio. Being nearly four in the morning, filming’s end, sparsely anyone was present and even those few people didn’t bother acknowledging you through the haze of insomnia.

“What are you doing here?”

He smirked, all cheek as always.

“Could ask the same for you. It’s really late.”

You shrugged, enjoying the distraction of easy chatter.

“Couldn’t sleep. Supposed Hoseok would appreciate some company home.”

“Ah, dear ______________,” Jimin snaked a hand around your shoulder. “Geniuses think alike.”

“Oh no,” you laughed, scurrying away from his treacherous hold. “Don’t try to seduce me into being your fangirl. It won’t happen.”

What was with Jimin and his tenacious will to make himself your bias you did not know and you never quite asked either, although it provided plenty of icebreakers across the slew of accidental meetings.

“Shame,” he drawled. “Maybe better though. Hoseok would kill me.”

To properly lament the wretched situation, Jimin sighed and reached to rake a hand through his hair. Hair that had been growing out and now sat shining with silver highlights. Unwittingly, your hand jolted by the side of your thigh.

“You want to touch?” he offered, sporting a grin too devious for your peace of mind. You probably shouldn’t but what’s the big deal…It’s just hair…

Doors to the room sprang open with a great bang and you crossed gazes with Hoseok, instantly swallowing in guilt. With expression previously lax, now growing cloudy, he flitted between you and Jimin.

“What’s going on?” with narrowed glare, he questioned, voice falling in a carefully curated tone which was, of course, far more menacing.

“Just waiting for you superstar,” Jimin laughed thinly only to wither when placed underneath Hoseok’s chilling frown. “On second thought, I’ll get home on my lonesome. Goodbye!”

And without giving anyone the time to even blink, Jimin had already disappeared into thin air. No, he was definitely not winning any favours from you.

The drive back home was spent in fraught silence, with Hoseok’s hands gripping the wheel so tight, every now and then it heaved a maltreated scream. Any minute soon the wrath bubbling underneath his skin would surge like pressurised water out of a geyser. However, Hoseok wasn’t a jealous person, even less when it came to the members. Both were trusted explicitly. Was it stress perhaps?

Finally, he crumbled.

“What is it with you and hair?” he sneered sharply. Straight away you bristled at the unspoken accusation.

“Nothing. Better yet what’s with you? I can’t even talk to Jimin now?”

“You went to him with the one thing, I couldn’t give you,” he countered as the car surged with tension.

“I did not go to him!” you squalled in frustration. “Are you even hearing yourself?!”

“It’s our thing!”

“No, it’s mine! You hate -!”

“It’s because of my ex, okay?!”

An awkward silence settled in the space between you. Red light pooled through the windshield.

“She liked to play with my hair,” he explained, anger abating as it was quickly seized by contrite embarrassment. “And I was afraid that if you’d do it, I would unwillingly think of her. You deserve better than that.”

You bit your lip to stop the growing smile, simply breathing: “I see.” Then -

“However, how would I know what you’re thinking?”

He stared ahead, lips thinning identical to yours.

“Probably wouldn’t,” he sighed. “But I’d feel at blame.”

You hummed and gazed outside the window, still battling the blossoming smile, though it was nothing compared to the warmth churning within your chest. A hand reached for yours and Hoseok guided your fingers towards his hair. It was finer than you realized but nice. It was Hoseok after all.

“Are you thinking of her?” you gently pondered.

“Not at all,” he whispered in a breathy voice, eyes briefly falling shut. “You’re the only one for me.”

JIMIN: Instead of happiness, his lips pursed into a thin line, gaze becoming evasive.

“Thank you, but I’m too tired.”

“I’ll help you.”

“I…I’m not in the mood for sex either.”

“It’s not that,” you sighed forlornly, literally feeling him slip through the cracks of your fingers. “Just…get in, and I’ll take care of you,” in a smaller voice, you added. “Like you do of me.”

Standing in the cracked gap of the bathroom door, he contemplated for a second, before breathing a heavy exhale, one expressing the entire weight of the world. Water sloshed as he got in the bath you drew up, and the window soon was covered by a thick layer of condensation, the deep black night growing matted behind it.

“You don’t have to do this,” he tossed over the bare shoulder, but you brushed his concerns away.

“I want to.”

“If it's because what I said -”

“It’s not.”

“- then I was out of line.”

“You were not.”

“I take it back.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But -”

Every time he spoke, his head turned to steal a glimpse of you, perhaps entirely on instinct, the water doused you with a heavy wave, drenching the floor and dumping the rose petals out with it. You grasped his head between your palms, keeping him still at least long enough to apologize sans the pain of his scrutinising gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you confessed, letting your forehead rest on the back of his neck. “I won’t ever let you feel like taken for granted.”

He sat unmoving for a long time and you gasped shakily, trying to swallow the budding tears. Well, obviously you would self-sabotage the only good thing in your life. Only naturally at this point in life...

…but this was Jimin and it didn’t matter whether you tucked yourself away in a locked room or an ocean away, he’d extend you the same kindness you were so eager to return. Pulling your arms around his neck, he smiled, laying a tender kiss upon your trembling knuckles.

“Nothing to forgive,” he muttered. “We were never in the wrong.”

You choked back a sob. Nonetheless, the night was still about him.

“Right,” you sobered up, pushing him lower in the water. “Just try to relax.”

“Are you planning to kill me?” he teased tiredly. “Besides, it’s a bit difficult given that my cock is just…out here,” he gestured vaguely at his lower part and you chuckled thinly.

“Nothing new to me. This is just…romantic.”

“Well, you certainly know the befitting aesthetic,” pointedly, he peered across the dozens of scent-free candles littered over every available surface of the bathroom and the pink petals now displayed haphazardly between the bath and the grey mat beside it.

Pressing a handful of shampoo in his hair, you hissed with mock annoyance: “oh, zip it.”

You kept working in now pleasant silence. Peace was in the house, at least it was until…

His groan was near explicit and watching Jimin throw his head back, nuzzling deeper into your hands, you knew you’d never forget the sight. It didn’t even seem like he’d registered it and soon enough the curiosity overwhelmed you. You rinsed his hair and then scratched lightly across the scalp. Another moan, even longer and somehow so filthy you could swear your entire body flushed.

“So…” he chuckled, strangely nervous. “Did I just give you a quick way to control my entire nervous system?”

You laid a kiss on his nape and the water rippled from his shudder.

“Sure did.”

The moons now adorning his spine were entirely at fault here or so you insisted, tugging his styled hair between your fingers, occasionally scratching just to see the struggle to keep his eyes open.

“The stylist is going to kill you,” he warned breathily but Jimin was never more grateful for losing his composure, that day in the bath than he was at this moment. Like grime washed away by a wet towel, your presence eased his worry into the void, while your fingers twirling his hair kept him there. How strange that such a small thing could do so much but then again if it did not, then would Jimin have bought a ring that now laid in his jacket pocket, heavy and searing like the infinite weight of Cosmos.

“Worth it,” you hummed. He couldn’t agree more.

TAEHYUNG: Frankly, the question of your enjoyment never made it into the equation as before you could even wonder of the idea, Taehyung had shamelessly thrust his head into your lap.

“I don’t wanna,” you whined by now not needing a verbal order to know what he craved.

“Too bad,” retorting without so much as an ounce of empathy, he grasped your fingers, bringing them down upon his head. Five minutes later he was snoring on your legs and no amount of force could rouse him, divine or otherwise. It was a language of his, one he talked exclusively with you.

Trees breezed past the rolling car and sitting still, you watched them blur into wide, rushing lines. At first innocent, his palm intertwined with yours, gaze locked on the road ahead. You hummed. He liked to hold hands, and so did you, only for yours to suddenly be submerged within his dark curls.

“Seriously?!” you yelped, and he chuckled with no small amount of glee.

The door smacked behind, or it would have if Taehyung had not been hot on your heels the entire way home.

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung mumbled, by now so many times it didn’t remotely even sound like a proper sentence.

“Not accepted,” you sneered, yanking off the jacket, maybe tearing a button or two in the process. “You embarrassed me! And for what?! Some childish caveman display of jealousy?”

The rest of the insult is expressed through a hardened scowl. As you jostled, enraged and unthinking, to peel off the stifling layers, Taehyung enclosed you into a hug, towering above you, his head lowered into the crook of your neck.

“Please, don’t be mad at me,” pitifully he muttered, a warm breath ghosting over your collarbone. “Take it out on me but promise you won’t be mad afterwards.”

Without even quite thinking, you wrenched out of his grasp and seized his hair, yanking it harshly towards you. At the back of your mind, panic took root - were you hurting him? Was this not wrong? But Taehyung grew positively limp, pliant, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously as his widened eyes tracked your every movement.

“I’m really angry,” you whispered with a frown.

“I’m sorry,” uselessly, he whimpered when you grasped at his locks. “It’s just…”

All you have to do is tug again for a high-pitched squeal to rip from the depths of his chest. “Don’t want to lose you.”

Something in the near incoherent way he breathed it, made your heart soften.

“Why are you crying?” you asked quietly, wiping the stray tear off his cheek.

Early morning hued the sky pink as you lay beside each other, relishing in the muted stillness of the room.

“Don’t know,” Taehyung sniffled. “Felt like it.”

You reached to brush his hair and soon enough he was slumbering again - all tears faded into the dawning cold.

JUNGKOOK: Frankly, you didn’t grasp why in situations such as these the other partner always offered sex. You were far more willing to simply lug this nightstand at Jungkook’s head. Without knocking you cracked open the doors to his gaming room, discerning the explosive sounds of combat swirling around the room.

“Jungkook, you promised!” you complained and he held out a hand, gaze locked on the game.

“I’ll be there soon, babe,” he lied in between strangled curses. “Just one more round.”

He’d muttered that already two fruitless hours ago.

“No, now!” you threatened, coming to stand by his chair, watching the battle unfold, thoroughly unimpressed by it. He offered some incoherent noise that lacked any meaning, and in a flash of swirling annoyance, you yanked at his hair, forcing his eyes to land upside down upon your face.

“Now.”

Most people would hastily become upset at such a gesture but the little masochist grinned from cheek to cheek, expression gaining a certain twinkle. You groaned at his satisfaction. Couldn’t even playfully torment him. The brat enjoyed it.

“Okay, folks,” he spoke into the headset, with your hand still firmly latched in his shaggy hair. “It’s been a pleasure, but I’ve got to go.”

Someone hollered in the chat but it went entirely unheard. Pushing the chair away from the desk, he reached to pull your other arm to rest on top of his thundering heart.

“What’s up, babe?”

For someone who was jerked by the roots of his hair, Jungkook appeared entirely too delighted.

“I need you -”

“Oh, you need me?”

“To hammer in the nails to the nightstand. Brat,” saying so, your grip on his hair grew harsher. All that came of it was Jungkook’s raspy laughter, eyes briefly fluttering shut and lips carving a sharp line in his dimpled cheeks.

“Couldn’t you just do it yourself?”

“Well if injury is to happen, I’d prefer it is you, not me.”

“Liar,” he smirked. “You cried when I tripped.”

Traitorous heat snuck its way onto your cheeks.

“I thought your leg broke,” you muttered before nudging him outside. “Now get to working.”

“Yes, my liege,” he curtsied, proceeding then to wring his tattooed hands around your waist, making you hobble like some sort of overtly humped creature. His nose quickly delved into its reserved spot in the crook of your neck.

“Always smell so good,” hazily, Jungkook muttered and you shook your head at his antics.

“You’re so weird.”

“Says the one who's constantly trying to dom me by hair pulling.”

“It’s not a dom thing!”

“Sure, baby,” he rasped, planting a wet kiss against your neck. “Whatever you say. Just remember you now owe me three hair pulls in return.”

588 notes · View notes