#illneverrecover

[minisugakoobies]

LMAO NOT "YOUR" GIF 🤣🤣🤣

Jackie, I am weak as fuck for a witty, sardonic man, even if he's cutting me down when he speaks! Writing their back and forth was way, wayyyy too much fun for me 😆 Who knows, these two might make a reappearance one day, just so I can indulge myself in some snappy banter (and more smut ofc!). Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, I appreciate you so much! 💕

Yours for the Night | HHJ

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, frenemies to lovers, Model!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: so. much. cockiness from Hyunjin, arguing as a form of foreplay, a bit of dumbification, what's a little fucking between frenemies?, dick pics, exhibitionism, nipple play, mentions of slut shaming, grinding, fingerfucking, pinching, just a tiny bit of spit, unexpected use of pet names, oral sex (f receiving), wet and messy, biting, dirty talk, maybe a little degradation (talking about reader being cock stupid), unprotected sex (bc used), riding/cowgirl style, praise/use of "good girl," soft dom!hyunjin vibes, rough/hard sex, multiple positions, creampie, multiple orgasms Word Count: 8.8k Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: “Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” Or, Hyunjin makes you an offer you simply can't refuse.

A/N: I finished this earlier than expected, thanks to the inspiration that is Hyunjin at Milan Fashion Week. Have you seen him?? 🥵 Anyway, it's all because of his stunning beauty that this filthy lil pwp exists. Enjoy! 😘

Unbeta'd as usual. I would *love* to hear your thoughts - my inbox is always open (and anon is on!) 💕

SKZ Masterlist

 It’s Friday night, you’re out for drinks with your friends, and you are frustrated.

It’s not the club that’s bothering you. You’re here tonight at Felix’s request. He’d told you all it had been too long since you’d gone out as a group, so all nine of you and your friends crammed yourselves into a couple of rides and headed for downtown. 

Nor is it the incredibly tight, short, and backless dress you’ve poured yourself into that’s annoying you, though it’s certainly not helping. Your fingers anxiously grasp at the hem, tugging it down your thighs as you take a seat at the table where Felix and Seungmin are currently talking.

No, it’s something personal that has you wound tighter than a corset tonight. Work has been kicking your ass lately, and it’s put a huge damper on your sex life. You haven’t been out with anyone new in the last few months. Haven’t had any time to reach out to any of your small group of casual hookups who would typically lend a hand. Most nights you’ve even been too tired to masturbate. 

Put simply, you’re ready to fucking pop. 

Which is why you’re wearing this bodybinding dress and staring at the dance floor like a wildcat stalking its prey, searching to find someone to help you with your problem. Unfortunately, you’ve been here for hours, and no one’s caught your eye so far. 

Your clutch rattles on the table, drawing your attention. Everyone who would usually text you is here, so out of curiosity, you take out your phone. The notification tells you that Hyunjin sent you a photo. 

You glance across the room at where Hyunjin is sitting in a booth with Changbin, deep in conversation. Why would he send you a photo right now?

Your confusion only grows when you look at the photo. It’s a selfie, Hyunjin raising his champagne glass in a toast to the camera, perfectly tousled dark hair spilling over his brow as he fixes you with his signature smirk. It’s a gorgeous shot, of course, because he’s a gorgeous man, but again, why is he sending you selfies in the middle of tonight’s celebration? Or at all? Hyunjin’s never been the type to send you photos before, of himself or the group or anything. 

He’s never really been the type to text you, period, outside of the group chat. Probably because the two of you aren’t really friends. Frenemies would be more accurate. You share the same group of friends, but have nothing else in common. Which is fine, you don’t have to be close to hang out, but he’s… well… he’s an acquired taste, and you’ve never developed an appreciation. Hyunjin’s snooty and cocky - overly so, in your opinion, even if he is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Most of your conversations consist of nothing but arguing. He’s very stubborn and loves to get the last word in on everything. Which drives you crazy because you prefer to have the final say. 

So to say this sudden selfie has you perplexed is an understatement.

Ignoring whatever Felix and Seungmin are talking about, you fire off a question. 

You: What is this? Hyunjin: Are you that drunk? It’s me

Reflexively, you scowl at your screen.

You: I know it’s you You: But WHY are you sending me a photo of yourself? Hyunjin: You’ve been staring at me all night Hyunjin: I thought maybe you’d like something to take home, to keep

Again, you look over, only to find him looking at you, lips curled to match his photo. Heat flames through you. Could he be more conceited? 

Maybe the vanity isn’t totally unearned, considering that he’s an actual model, making a living using his ethereal beauty to sell products. His own lifestyle is just as luxurious as the images he appears in. Like right now, he’s wearing the finest black suit, obviously couture, with a few silver necklaces draped over his tie that you’ve no doubt cost more than your entire outfit alone. 

And sure, he has a jawline carved by the gods, thick eyebrows that frame expressive, cat-like eyes, and ridiculously pouty lips that you’ve found yourself staring at once… an hour on average. Maybe in your weakest moments you’ve even dreamt about what it would be like to kiss those lips. 

But does that mean he has to be a dick all the time?

You: You’re such an ass Hyunjin: Deny it all you want, but we both know you can’t keep your eyes off me Hyunjin: Not that I blame you You: It’s amazing your head still fits through doors Hyunjin: You’d be the first to notice if it didn’t

Your nostrils flare. No matter what you say, he always flips it back on you. Admittedly, you are a little tipsy, so you’re not fully on your game, but it’s still annoying as fuck. And right now, you really don’t need another reason to be frustrated.

You: Whatever, Hyunjinnie

You cast another glance at Hyunjin, delighting in the way he frowns at your response. He hates it when you call him that.

You take a moment to locate the rest of your friends. Changbin’s still sitting with Hyunjin. Jeongin and Chan are doing shots at the bar. Minho and Jisung are in their own little world on the dance floor, arms draped around one another. Neither Felix nor Seungmin seemed to have noticed that you have dropped out of their discussion. Part of you feels guilty for ignoring them, but, well, you’re a little fired up now, and the only thing that would make you feel better would be getting the last word in with Hyunjin for once.

You take a sip of your cocktail, floating the cold liquid on your tongue as you devise your next line of attack, when your phone buzzes again. 

Hyunjin: I have another photo for you You: Why? Hyunjin: Because I think you’d like it You: Oh really? Like you know what I like Hyunjin: Always so argumentative Hyunjin: You’re pretty easy to figure out Hyunjin: The staring makes it incredibly obvious

Such an ass.

You: Fuck off Hyunjin: I will not You: What’s your game, man? Hyunjin: No game Hyunjin: Can’t I just do something nice for you?

The man is a riddle. An enigma draped in Versace. 

You type out “I guess there’s a first time for everything” and press send, putting your phone down long enough to watch him get the text. Hyunjin laughs to himself, smiling down at his screen, and there’s this weird feeling of satisfaction in your stomach at the sight. Whatever, you like making people laugh, even assholes like him. So what.

You tell yourself that you’re not going to wait at his beck and call, jumping to read his texts as they come in, if in fact he keeps sending them, but then your phone vibrates again and you snap it up immediately, because you’re a liar.

Hyunjin: Just trust me Hyunjin: You want this Hyunjin: But I want something first You: Oh here we go You: There’s the catch A hand waves over your phone. “Hi, hello, are we boring you?” 

Quickly, you turn it over before Seungmin can see your text thread. “No, sorry, I was just, uh - “

“Hey, leave her be,” your savior Felix says, pushing Seungmin lightly. “She’s had a rough couple of weeks. She shouldn’t have to suffer through your boring work stories, too.”

“Hey!” 

Seungmin and Felix dissolve into arguing as you covertly flip your phone back over. 

Hyunjin: I’m not asking much Hyunjin: Just a photo of you. A photo for a photo

He can’t be serious.

You: I’m not sending you a nude Hyunjin: Did I say nude? No, I did not Hyunjin: A normal selfie, that’s all

Again your suspicion rises. What is he playing at? Where is this going? 

You: But WHY? Hyunjin: Maybe I can’t stop staring, either

Your breath catches in your throat. When you look up, he’s gazing at you again, but his expression is less smug than usual and more… ravenous. 

You turn away so fast, your neck cracks. 

Hyunjin: So? Send me a pic.

There’s no reason for you to agree to this. Absolutely no reason at all. Beyond, of course, your burning curiosity. 

It’s really going to get you in trouble one day.

Grabbing your clutch, you slip off your chair. “Ladies room,” you announce, glancing at Felix and Seungmin, who aren’t listening anyway, still squabbling. You wander just far enough out of sight of your friends, find a spot with good lighting back near the bar (because even if it’s just for Hyunjin, your vanity will not let you take an unflattering photo), and snap a quick picture, firing it off right away. 

As you’re sliding back into your seat, your phone vibrates. Hyunjin sent another photo. 

You swallow reflexively. Holy shit. It’s a shot of his crotch, dress pants straining to contain what is clearly a massive cock, gripped through the fabric by long fingers.

Hwang Hyunjin sent you a dick pic. 

So it’s not big dick energy, it’s just big dick, is the first coherent thought you have once the screeching inside your head stops. It occurs to you that you’ve been gawking unblinkingly at your phone for at least several minutes, so you raise your head to make sure your friends aren’t watching you, and thankfully they’re not. Really, you should know better than to underestimate just how much Felix and Seungmin love to bicker.

But what are you supposed to say to Hyunjin now? Your thumbs hover, waiting for inspiration, but you’re stuck. 

Hyunjin: Wow, are you speechless? Hyunjin: Guess there really is a first time for everything

Even without looking, you know he’s smirking at you from across the room. Suddenly, you need another drink, so you mumble “bar” in Felix’s direction and stumble away. As the bartender mixes you another cocktail, you grip your phone tightly, waging an inner war with yourself. 

You should look at the photo again. You shouldn’t look at the photo again. You should delete it, and Hyunjin’s number, and maybe throw the phone in the nearest trash bin too, just for extra comfort. But holy fuck, do you want to look at the photo again!

What you really don’t want is to think about the effect that photo has had on your pussy, because it’s humiliating how much she’s throbbing right now. 

“I’ll take one of those as well, thanks.” A hand waves towards the bartender, and your treacherous brain immediately recognizes those fingers as the fingers from Hyunjin’s photo, and starts picturing what those lithe digits would look like wrapped around your throat. Great. Now your brain has joined your pussy. Traitors. 

You say nothing as Hyunjin takes the seat next to you. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s gotten under your skin again, albeit in a very different way, but also partly because you’re still not sure what to say. 

“You know,” Hyunjin bends towards you, close enough for his warm breath to tickle your ear, “if I’d known that all it would take to get you to stop arguing with me was showing you my cock, I would’ve introduced you much sooner.” 

“God, you are just - just the worst,” you snarl, teeth clenched hard enough to give you a headache. 

“Now really, is that any way to speak to someone who just gave you a gift?” Hyunjin sips his drink calmly. 

Well, there’s the Hyunjin you recognize. What you don’t understand is how he’s still making your cunt drip with need. All you can think about right now is what he’s hiding under those suit pants. Are you really this dumbstruck by cock? 

(Yes. Yes, you are.)

“Me and every other woman in this club, I bet. You probably air dropped it to the whole room.” You wouldn’t put it past him. Maybe that was his plan the whole time - work you up then leave you begging while he hooked up with someone else. As if you’d beg. 

“Oh no, that was just for you.” 

“Uh-huh, sure.” 

With a roll of his eyes, Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “Come on. You know how selective I am when it comes to my clothes or my liquor. Why would I be any less selective about who I fuck?” 

“Who you fuck?” Whoa, who said anything about fucking? Besides your duplicitous brain and pussy. “Who - who said - that’s not - I mean -” You’ve suddenly become the Big Bad Wolf, huffing and puffing, unable to form a complete sentence. 

Hyunjin rises, leaning over you as you gaze up at him from your barstool. He places his hands on the bar, one arm on either side of you, bracketing you in, wild eyes trailing down your figure slowly before he smiles, hungry and sharp, and you realize, no, here’s the wolf. 

“Listen, there’s no reason we can’t fuck. Friends fuck all the time.” His hand glides over your shoulder, light as a feather, and you watch dazedly as goosebumps ripple along your skin. His touch is electric. 

“Is that what we are? Friends?” 

Hyunjin shrugs, lips twisted in a droll smile. “Close enough. This doesn’t have to be complicated. You said it yourself - you’re in need.”

“What? When did - I never said that!” Again you struggle to speak coherently, sputtering in your confusion.

Hyunjin frowns. “Ah, you’re right, I misspoke. That was Felix who said that, wasn’t it? On the ride here?” 

You curse inwardly, remembering the private discussion you and Felix had had on the way to the club, when you were discussing your dry spell. Or at least, it was supposed to be private, but obviously someone had been listening in. Felix had offered to play wingman for you, saying he wouldn’t let anything keep him from helping you “in your time of need” - a bit dramatic, but that was Felix for you. 

You’d waved him off, insisting that you could snag someone without any help. But here you are, drowning your sorrows at the bar with no possibilities in sight. Maybe you should’ve accepted Felix’s help after all. 

“That’s not…” Sighing, you shrug. There was no point in trying to deny what he’d heard. “Fine, yeah, I came here tonight hoping to leave with someone, but I didn’t mean you!” 

“That’s because you didn’t know I was an option.” Again his gaze travels down your body, lingering like a slow caress. “But after seeing the way you look tonight, I had to offer myself up.” 

Always. So. Cocky. You want to deny that his words have an effect on you. Want to. But can’t.

And like that, your resolve starts to slip. 

“You really want to help me out?” you ask. He nods, irises blown as his eyes flicker to yours, and it puts fire in your belly, has you biting your lip in contemplation. “What makes you think you have what I need?”  

Hyunjin doesn’t bother to check if any of your friends are watching as he steps closer, like he doesn’t care if anyone sees the way he cups your cheek. Or how he slides his thumb over your lips, dragging the bottom one down before lowering his mouth towards yours. He hangs there, just for a second - just long enough for you to tip your face up in a wordless answer.

His touch has nothing on his kiss. Your whole body thrums from head to toe, fizzing like the champagne on your tongue earlier, sweet and effervescent. His hand falls to your hip, squeezes there suddenly, and you feel a rush of heat between your thighs. 

Hyunjin’s plush lips part, letting the tip of his tongue briefly nudge against yours before he pulls away, leaving you blinking dumbly. He lets out a low chuckle, gently wiping a drop of spit from your chin. 

“I just know.”

You’re too busy licking the inside of your lips, hunting for any lingering trace of him, to respond.  

“Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” His eyes dip to your mouth and back, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to make a move again. Needing him to. “Just think about it.” 

And then he walks away, leaving you nearly toppling off your seat, floundering in his wake. 

The ice cubes in your cocktail have all but melted by the time you remember you ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, you replay the last several minutes in your head. Did all of that just happen? Did Hyunjin really just offer himself to you? And then kiss you like that?

You feel like you’re going out of your mind. 

“Just think about it.” 

Hyunjin’s last words echo in your head as you wander on wobbly legs back towards the table where Felix and Seungmin are still standing. 

And oh, god, do you think about it. 

For the rest of the night, no matter how many conversations you have with your other friends, no matter how hard you dance, no matter what you do - the sole thought occupying your brain is what it would be like to fuck Hyunjin. Again and again, you picture him above you, beneath you, behind you, big cock stretching you out, making you scream his name. 

But it’s not worth it to give in to him. It can’t be. Good dick - if it’s good - can’t be enough to undo all the annoying shit he does, can it?

You cut yourself off early in the night, explaining that someone needs to stay sober enough to call for rides, but really you’re afraid that if you get completely blitzed, you’ll end up admitting something you don’t want to admit and going home with Hyunjin. Your friends honor your noble sacrifice by achieving impressive levels of drunk, ranging from delightful (Felix repeatedly booping you on the nose, calling you his “widdle buddy”) to disastrous (Chan, who gets upset when the guy he hits on in the bathroom doesn’t respond - turns out he was hitting on his own reflection - before falling asleep in a stall). 

Since the club is in the middle of downtown, you arrange for two cars to pick you and your friends up - one heading east, one heading west. Changbin, Chan, Hyunjin, and you pile into the ride heading west. Changbin hops into the passenger’s seat before you can slip in, leaving you smushed in the back between Hyunjin and Chan’s gigantic thighs. 

Said thighs are splayed a bit as Chan’s head lolls back, a loud snore erupting out of him as the car makes its first stop outside Changbin’s apartment. 

“Can’t take him anywhere,” Changbin grunts, snapping a rather unflattering photo of Chan sleeping with his mouth wide open, obviously saving it to drop in the group chat at the most opportune time. “Can you two make sure he gets home okay? I know it’s a bit out of the way, but, well, look at him.” 

Chan continues to rumble like a fighter jet, unaware of everything going on around him. 

“Yeah, don’t worry, we got him,” Hyunjin replies, and you just nod. “Night, ‘Bin.” 

Changbin gives the driver Chan’s address and then he ducks out of the cab. Your place is technically the next closest, but getting Chan back to his place safe and sound is the priority. 

With Chan sleeping next to you, it’s basically just you and Hyunjin alone now. A fact that has also occurred to Hyunjin, whose hand has been drifting further and further around your waist the entire ride. Now it slides around openly, tucking you against his side. You could fight it if you so desired - he’s not holding you tightly. He’s giving you the chance to escape. 

You’re not sure you want to.

“Have you thought about it?” he murmurs, nose against your ear. 

Your body reacts to the tone of his voice, thighs rubbing together, as you nod. 

“And what did you decide?” 

“I - I don’t know.” 

A puff of air tickles your skin as he laughs derisively. “Do you really need some convincing?” 

Chan snuffles loudly, reminding you that there’s another person right next to you, since your entire focus is on Hyunjin, and the way his hand is now creeping beneath the open back of your dress, and slowly moving up your rib cage. 

When he cups your left breast, you stifle a gasp. But you can’t stop the tiny “ah!” that escapes when he gently pinches your nipple. You attempt to cover it with a cough, hoping the driver’s lack of visible response means he didn’t hear you. Meanwhile, next to you, Chan doesn’t stir. 

“Feel good?” Hyunjin coos quietly. “Must’ve felt good, given the way you’re squirming right now.” 

Your hips have started to rock of their own volition. Brain, hips, pussy, all on your shit list. 

“But just think how much better it’ll feel when it’s my mouth.” His tongue flicks the shell of your ear before he sucks your earlobe into his warm mouth. A preview of what’s to come. It makes you squirm even harder, dying for any sort of relief for the aching between your legs. 

Remarkably, you manage to speak, hissing, “You’re a demon.” 

Hyunjin laughs. “You’ve no idea.” 

His hand stays where it is until the car pulls up at the curb outside Chan’s house. It takes a minute for the two of you to wake Chan, then another minute for him to realize where he is, then yet another minute for him to slide out of the car. Hyunjin sighs and also climbs out of the cab to make sure Chan gets into his house safely. 

When Hyunjin returns, the driver glances in the rearview mirror. “So, one more stop, or two?” 

You blink at the question. The air in the cab feels heavy with implication. Hyunjin says nothing, but looks at you expectantly, and you understand - the choice is yours.

You glance at your hands, as if they’ll help you choose. Your watch informs you that it’s 2:12 in the morning. Don’t they always say not to trust any decisions you make after two am?

When the driver clears his throat a little too loudly, Hyunjin’s fingers grip your chin. 

“Well? You heard him - one stop or two?” 

You meet his gaze, surprised to find a fire burning in his eyes. 

Maybe you’d be a fool to run towards it, seeking warmth where there might only be danger. 

Fine, then. You’re a fool. 

“One.” 

With a satisfied grin, Hyunjin gives the driver his address.

You’re a little tense during the elevator ride up to Hyunjin’s apartment. Hyunjin, on the other hand, looks completely relaxed, quietly leaning against the wall with his normal blasé expression on his face. Like you’re not about to cross a boundary here that you never expected to cross. Like this was inevitable. 

As soon as you’re both inside and his door is locked, he turns to face you, and you suck in a deep breath, waiting impatiently for him to touch you again. 

Instead, he asks, “Do you want some water?” 

“Um, yeah, sure.” 

He must read confusion on your face - at least, you hope it looks like confusion and not disappointment - because the corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile. 

“A few questions first,” he says, walking into his kitchen, sliding his suit jacket off as he goes. “Are you in good health?”

“Am I - am I in good health?”

Hyunjin tuts. “I’d ask if you need me to repeat myself but clearly you heard the question.” 

You stare at his back, brows furrowing as you decipher his meaning. “Are you asking if I’ve been tested recently? Yes, I have been. Nothing to report.” 

“Good, me too,” he replies, yanking his tie off and tossing it onto the counter before opening the fridge and grabbing you both a bottle of water. He eyes you as he opens his. “Are you on birth control?”

“Is this what you’re like on a date? Does your foreplay always involve interrogating your partner with clinical questions?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He tilts his head back as he drinks, so he doesn’t catch the glare you shoot his way. “Answer the question.” 

“Yes, dick, I’m on birth control.” You take a swig of your water. The memory of his touch in the taxi is fading more and more with every second that passes. With a clearer head, you’re starting to question if you’ve made the right choice. 

“Good,” he repeats, wiping his mouth. “I prefer to fuck raw.” 

You clench around nothing at the thought, but scowl anyway. “What about what I prefer?” 

Hyunjin just hums, fingers brushing your cheek before they tap under your chin. “Do you want me to use a condom?” There’s no drollness or sarcasm to his tone. He’s genuinely asking. 

“No.” Your pride takes a tiny hit at the way you answer him immediately, without hesitation.

Just as quickly as his gentle tone came, it disappears again, vanishing as Hyunjin flashes a smug smile. “That’s what I thought.”

“That’s what - oh fuck off.” There he is again, that cocky asshole. Reflexively, you curse at him, ready to fight. “Fuck you, you don’t know anything about me.”

“How many times do I need to tell you that I do? You’re so easy to read.” 

“Really?” Okay then. You’ll call his bluff. “Go ahead, Hyunjinnie. Tell me what I like.” 

He rolls his eyes. His fingers make quick work of his cufflinks, setting them on the granite top beside him, and he slides his sleeves up, revealing toned forearms beneath. 

“Well, for starters, you love getting under my skin with that infantile nickname.” 

“No shit. Everyone knows that.” 

“You live for arguing, especially with me. Can’t let a single sentence go by without snapping back.” 

“Maybe that’s because you’re always wrong.”

Hyunjin doesn’t take the bait, merely leans back against the counter, examining you so openly that you feel exposed, so you cross your arms, as if that will help you block his penetrating gaze. He takes a few seconds before speaking again. 

“No, it’s not that. Though I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself. If it were, you wouldn’t be here right now.” 

He speaks so calmly, so self-assuredly. It’s maddening, even though you’re burning with curiosity. Makes you want to know more, so you press him again. “Okay, then - what is it? Why am I here?” 

“Because you wanted someone to take control.” He spreads his arms wide. “And here I am.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“You know. You want someone else to be in charge. Make the decisions. Do the work for you. Then fuck you so hard that all those thoughts just fly right out of that pretty little head of yours.” He says it all so matter-of-factly, like it’s completely evident, your deepest desires laid bare for all to witness.

You want to dismiss his words, act like he’s so far off the mark that he’s on another planet, but you’re too surprised by his answer to respond with anything other than stunned silence. His arrogant smile returns. Clearly he was expecting you to fight, so your lack of a snappy comeback only confirms to him that he’s right. 

“Just look at what you’re wearing,” he continues. “That tight dress screams ‘please fuck me stupid!’ Lucky for you, that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

You find your voice. “Oh, now you’re judging my clothing? And - and slut shaming me?” 

“Please. I’m always judging your clothing. But it’s a taste thing, not some sort of moral judgment.” He smirks. “And I’m very supportive of sluts, thank you.” 

As he sips his water, you replay the entire evening in your mind. Sending you the photos. Kissing you. Making the offer. Fuck. He really did do the work for you tonight. Was there ever a chance you were going to say no? Judging by Hyunjin’s attitude, this moment was never in doubt. He knew you’d end up here with him.  

The other realization that dawns on you is - you’re not mad about any of that. The only thing you’re mad about is that, once again, he’s right about something. And he knows it. 

Okay. Fine. You want to be fucked stupid. But does he have to be so fucking rude about it??

“Maybe this was a bad idea.”

He suddenly steps towards you. His expression is so intense that you move without thinking, backing all the way into the fridge. Your heart feels like it might burst through your ribcage at the slightest provocation, breath leaving your lungs in tiny exhalations as his thumb ghosts your cheek. 

Not because you’re scared. Because you’re excited.

“Tell me you don’t want to kiss me.”

Hyunjin says the words softly, but there’s a firmness to his gaze that makes you swallow hard.

Your lips don’t move. 

He kisses you. Wraps his hands around your waist, pulls you to his demanding mouth, head turning this way and that as his lips crash onto yours.

You kiss him back. Just as greedily, just as deeply. 

His hand strokes your thigh. “Tell me you don’t want me to touch you.”

You make no noise.

His fingers crawl beneath your skirt, dancing over the silk of your underwear. Your gasp warms his tongue. A throaty growl chokes him.

“So wet for me.” He brings his hand up to show you the evidence, skin glistening. As if you didn’t already know.

He surges forward, pinning you to the fridge, mouth blazing a trail from your ear to your neck as his fingers press into your soaking slit.

“Ah, Hyunjin!” you whimper, clutching wildly at his bicep. The swell of his arm bulges as his fingers slowly search your inner walls, like they’re mapping every inch of you. When they trace over your g-spot, they linger, brushing again and again. “Oh my god!”

“Tell me,” he implores, husky voice breaking, like he’s barely in control, “tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you don’t want this - don’t want me - and I’ll call you a ride and we’ll never talk about this again.” 

His forehead bumps yours, eyes smoldering with bright intensity, hand still plunging.

This time, you speak, chest heaving as you gasp for air.

“Don’t - don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

A smile spreads across Hyunjin’s face. He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, the other hand still working between your thighs. You moan, feeling his erection digging into your hip as he presses himself against you, holding you firmly in place while he adds a third finger to the two already fucking you open. 

“Say it,” he commands, mouth wet and hot on your cheek. “Tell me what you want.” 

“I want, oh, fuck, I, I want you to fuck me, Hyunjin.”

In an instant, he’s disentangled himself from you, and you can’t help but whine very loudly at the sudden loss of his fingers. Hyunjin just smirks at your naked desperation, spinning you around so you’re in front of him. 

“Come on,” he says, lightly pinching your ass to make you move. You yelp, smacking him on the arm, but he just laughs. “I’m not fucking you in here. Let’s go.” 

“Asshole,” you curse, but you go anyway, because all you want is for him to touch you again, and if he’s refusing to do it in here, then why would you want to stay? You’re going wherever his hands go. 

Maybe you should feel ashamed, for giving in so easily. But you don’t. All you feel is desire. This is what you want. What you need. 

Hyunjin’s fingers press lightly on the small of your back as he guides you down the hallway to his bedroom. It’s just as ostentatious as the rest of his place - expensive-looking light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, dark leather headboard and frame for his gigantic bed, which is covered in piles of plush-looking blankets and pillows. There’s a gorgeous painting taking up most of the wall above his bed. 

He doesn’t give you much time to admire the room, because as soon as you’re in front of the bed, he spins you again, hands reaching for the zipper of your dress, sliding it to the ground, leaving you standing there in nothing but your panties. Before you can tell him to stop pushing you around, he’s kissing you fervently, like he’s been dying the entire time his mouth has been away from yours these last few minutes, and suddenly you forget that you’re irritated. 

Hyunjin backs you onto the bed, breaking away from your lips long enough to urge you to move towards the headboard, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the side as he follows. When his fingers grab for his belt, they find yours already there, making short work of the buckle. He groans in delight, deciding to use his hands to grope your bare breasts while you unzip his pants. 

“Can’t wait to see it in real life, huh?” he asks, dragging his thumbs over your nipples. He chuckles when you just whimper, back arching slightly to encourage him to keep touching you.

The truth is, yes, you can’t wait to see Hyunjin’s massive dick, but more importantly, you can’t wait to feel it inside you, so you continue with your task, pushing his pants and boxers down together. And god, what a cock it is, long and thick and positively darkened with need. Smeared drops of excitement coat the head, and the sight makes your mouth water. 

He rises up to kneel between your legs, grabbing his cock with one hand and giving it a few lazy pumps. “Well? Don’t tell me you’re speechless again.” 

“Goddamn it,” you huff in exasperation, “you’re the fucking worst.” But you can’t stop staring as he gently squeezes the head, making a pleased noise, relieving himself a little while he watches you writhe in impatience. 

“You’ll be singing a different tune in a moment, sweetheart.” 

Your nose wrinkles at how easily ‘sweetheart’ drips off his tongue. “Just put it in me already,” you demand, leaning back on your elbows, licking your lips as you peer up at him, trying to send a blatant “fuck me!” signal with every inch of your body. 

Hyunjin tuts, lifting one of his gorgeously thick eyebrows. “Right to it? Is that what you really want?” In one swift motion, he hooks a finger under your panties and drags them down and off. It’d be a more impressive move if anyone but him were doing it. 

“I just… I thought we were gonna fuck?” Isn’t that what you’re here for?

“Of course we are. But is that how you typically do it? No foreplay, no build up?” His fingers rake down your stomach, trail over your thighs, causing your body to twitch with shivers. “That doesn’t sound like any fun at all.”

It’s not how you’d prefer to do this, no. You’re just surprised that he agrees. So you say nothing in reply, visibly closing your mouth while he maneuvers you into position, pushing your legs up so your knees bend, your thighs meeting your stomach, completely exposing your cunt to him. 

“That’s better. Just let me play with you a little first, sweetheart. I promise you’ll like it.” 

Your instinct is to argue with him, tell him he has no idea what you’d like, but you’ve already done that tonight. And you were wrong. So again, you bite your tongue. 

Until he extends his own, letting a string of spit fall onto your pussy.

“Ew, Hyunjin!” You’re disgusted, but not with him. Why do you find that so hot?

“Too much?” he inquires, letting go of your legs as he glances at you. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen a real expression of concern on his face before. It rattles you slightly. 

Biting your lip, you shake your head. “No - keep going.” 

He nods, hands reaching for your thighs again. “If I hit any hard no’s for you, say something, and I promise I’ll stop, okay?” 

“I will.” 

He bows over you again, licking a straight line up your slit. With a moan, you let your head drop back against the pillows. His mouth feels absolutely divine.

Where others in the past just dove in, Hyunjin takes his time. He drags his tongue around slowly, licking through your soaking folds, tasting you. It reminds you of the way you’d seen him drink a really fine whisky, holding it in his mouth, quietly identifying every note, every flavor. Relishing, instead of rushing. 

When his lips brush over your clit, leaving teasing kisses, you moan. Hyunjin hums, a self-satisfied little rumble, and lifts his head. “See? Told you you’d like this.” 

“Please, shut up and suck my clit.” It’s meant to be an order but definitely sounds like a pathetic whine. Whatever, as long as he listens. 

He listens. Those plush lips that you can’t stop yourself from staring at roll over your already throbbing little nub and warm pleasure runs down your spine before pooling in your belly. His dark hair keeps falling in his face, obscuring him from your view, and for some reason you can’t have that. Tentatively, you reach out, hand shaking a little. 

Hyunjin hums when your fingers slide through his soft locks, pushing the strands back, holding them in place so you can see his eyes, the way they squeeze shut when he sucks noisily on your clit. The sounds he makes are so loud, completely uninhibited, moaning and grunting as his lips smack and his tongue laps. 

He uses said tongue to fuck you expertly, his movements so confident, so sure. He reads every quiver, listens to every moan, figures out how to work you up with quick, teasing shallow plunges, before slowing it down, going deeper, tongue brushing your walls like he’s speaking a language only your body understands. 

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, unable to tear your eyes away from him. 

His mouth parts from you long enough for him to speak. “There it is. There’s the tone I was looking for. Enjoy this, sweetheart. I know I am.” 

You’re enjoying it so much that you unexpectedly whimper when he stops again a moment later, feeling a little embarrassed as he exhales a quiet laugh into your warmth. “Just hold on,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue up your slit to pass over your clit again and again, before sliding a finger into your clenching hole.

“Ohhhh.” 

The combination is so good, his finger filling you while his mouth suctions to you, that your eyes flutter shut. He pulls out and glides back in, all the way to his knuckles in one smooth motion, your wet folds parting so easily for him. He’s done an amazing job of spreading your slickness around, coating your inner thighs, messing his bed beneath you. 

“Gonna make you come,” Hyunjin says, spreading you open with two fingers now. “Need you to come before I can fuck you just like you want. Can you do that for me?”

The tension in your gut tells you that that shouldn’t be a problem. Both fingers have curled inside you, stroking over your soft spot, making you pant, clutching Hyunjin’s satin sheets for dear life. 

“Hy-Hyun-”

Before you can even finish saying his name, the tension snaps, nerves firing from your cunt to your toes, causing your legs to lock up. Hyunjin groans, moving his hands to grasp at your thighs, trying to loosen their squeeze. 

“Easy, sweetheart, don’t take me out just yet.” When your body finally starts to relax, he grins. “There we go. Good girl.”

If this were any other time, you’d snap at him for dropping that pet phrase on you. But you’re too blissed out at the moment, practically purring as he starts to kiss his way up your torso. 

When he reaches your breasts, he joins you, a low rumble sounding from the back of his throat. His nose nuzzles between them, as he leaves loud kisses on their swelling curves. 

Another thing Hyunjin isn’t wrong about - his mouth feels much better than his fingers do on your nipples, tongue gliding like warm velvet against the pert nubs. You continuously moan, until you’re nearly panting, fingers once again finding his dark locks and threading themselves between. 

“How am I doing, sweetheart?” he murmurs.

“Good.” It doesn’t even occur to you to tell him anything but the truth. “So good, Hyunjinnie. Ah!” You flinch as he suddenly nips the other nipple, teeth clamping gently. “Why?!” 

“You and that damn nickname. I must not be doing enough if you’re still calling me that.” He rises onto his knees, shaking his head. “Guess I just gotta fuck it out of you.” 

And just like that, you feel that spark again. 

“Sure you will, Hyunjinnie,” you simper, voice dripping with honey, so sickeningly-sweet as you coo his name. It has the desired effect, making Hyunjin’s eyes flash. 

He reaches for you, pulling you up into his lap, before you can so much as breathe. “You doubting me, sweetheart?” His hands press into your hips, urging you down on him. Both of you groan as his cock slides along your cunt, and the sparks inside you ignite. 

“I’m not your sweetheart,” you spit back, feeling that familiar sense of agitation, but it’s not annoyance now, it’s anticipation. 

“And I’m not really yours, but let’s play pretend for the night,” he drawls, and you look at him with wide eyes, but he kisses away the wonder on your face, working you up with teeth and tongue, until you’re frenzied with need. Your fingers clutch at his biceps, nails sinking in to tether him closer. 

His hands on your waist guide you down again. As his cockhead breaches your lips, you keen, head falling forward onto his shoulder. 

“Holy fuck,” you gasp. The stretch is delicious, cunt already throbbing around his thickness.  

Both of you freeze when you’re fully seated on him, no sounds in the room but the rhythmic cadence of your panting intertwining with his. 

“You know,” Hyunjin speaks through grit teeth, focused on the spot where your bodies join, “we could’ve been doing this a long, long time ago.”

You don’t know what to say to that. How long has he wanted this? You’re not sure the exact answer for yourself, except that it’s longer than you’d ever truly want to confess.

“Maybe - maybe if you weren’t such a - oh, oh, oh!” Your lame attempt at a retort is lost to the rapid snapping of Hyunjin’s hips when he starts to thrust up into you. There’s nothing you can do but bounce in his lap, clinging to his shoulders as he finally fucks you just as hard as he’d promised. “Hyunjin, please!” 

Hyunjin grunts, perspiration trickling down his forehead as he concentrates on giving you what you wanted. His jaw flexes, brows drawn together in a frown, and even with this fierce expression on his face, he’s so beautiful that you can’t help yourself, diving forward to kiss that gorgeous mouth of his like you’ve always imagined, as if you weren’t just kissing him a few minutes ago, but like it’s the first time, tracing his lips with yours, imprinting the feeling of them against your own to store away in your memory for later.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” His words are the oxygen you inhale, tongues pressed together like the pages of a book. “I think I prefer you this way. So needy for my cock.” He smirks. “Kinda want to keep you like this.” 

He digs his fingers into the plump roundness of your ass as he grinds into you, sliding you back and forth. Your hips undulate, rolling you down on his big cock, feeling every inch of him rubbing against your walls. 

“Hyu-hyu-hyun!” 

It’s impossible to get an entire word out, given the pace at which Hyunjin’s strokes are jostling you. Your staccato cries get louder when he switches it up, laying you on your back and shoving a pillow under your hips. His thighs smack into your ass with every plunge of his thick length, and again you can do nothing but try to breathe, drowning in euphoria as you are.

“Yeah, you’re best just like this. Stuffed full of cock, no room for thoughts. Or arguments.” 

“F-fuck!” You were trying to say ‘fuck off’ but Hyunjin chose that moment to thumb at your clit, giving the aching nub the friction it so badly needed. Your hips buck up, making Hyunjin groan.

“Just like that, so good for me.” 

You whine involuntarily at his praise, hips lifting again, trying to take him deeper. Every stroke of his cock lights you up, your body tingling from head to toe. The strong thrumming in your gut is going to overtake you soon and you’re finally going to get what you’ve been needing for weeks now. And it’s Hyunjin of all people who is going to give it to you. 

You’re pulled out of your reverie as Hyunjin suddenly pulls out, falling onto his side next to you. 

“What are y- oh!” You gasp as he turns you on your side, facing away from him. One hand lifts  your leg, sliding it back until your calf loops over his. Then he enters you again, and again, thrusting in deep, powerful movements. “Oh, fuck, goddamn.” 

“That’s right,” he growls, arm beneath you bending, hand coming to a rest around your throat. Not squeezing, but holding you in place, back pressed to his front. You’re both covered in sweat, bodies gliding over one another, making it hard for him to keep his pace. So his fingers spread on your chest, locking you in place, giving him leverage to pound into you. “Take it, sweetheart. Take what I give you like a good girl.” 

“Ahhh,” you moan, “don’t - don’t call me that.” 

“No? You don’t like being praised?” Hyunjin releases his hold on your thigh, running his others fingers around where his cock keeps sliding between your lips. “Your pussy tells me another story. You’re soaking my sheets.”

“Nah - ah - not that, ’s not that.” With this slightly slower rhythm, you’re able to speak, but full sentences still seem hard. “Like praise. Hate - hate good girl.” 

“Ohhh, I see.” Hyunjin laughs breathily. “I should’ve known. You’re too proud. Think it makes you look weak if I call you that? Hmm?” 

Even in your desperate state, you know he’s not far off from the truth. You don’t want him calling you that, because it feels like giving in to him. Letting him take control completely. Possessing you. His good girl. 

The real, honest to god truth is - you can’t let him call you that, because you do want it. And you hate how much you want it. 

So you deny it. Or at least, you try to. But all you can stutter is a weak “You’re s-such a d-dick,” as he continues snapping his hips into your ass, making your entire body jiggle in his strong grip. 

Hyunjin drops an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, wet and sloppy. You curl your fingers into his arm as you sense that you’re approaching the precipice of your orgasm. You can tell that it’s going to be an intense one, one of those climaxes that clears your mind of all thought and leaves you literally shaking in ecstasy. Just as he’d promised.

You do appreciate a man who follows through on his promises. 

Hyunjin must feel the way you’re starting to clench around him, groaning into your shoulder. “Ahh, I think this little cunt’s trying to tell me something again, sweetheart. You gonna come for me? Hmmm?” His fingers rub over your clit, the sudden touch making you jolt. “Come on, be a good girl and c-”

Twisting your head, you smash your nose into his cheek, clumsily seeking his mouth. Cutting him off with heated kisses, hoping he’ll interpret it as annoyance fueling your actions and not see it for what it truly is - untamed desire. 

A strangled cry passes from Hyunjin’s lips into yours, and with one more tweak to your clit, you come undone. Your body locks up, thighs going rigid, cunt clamping around his cock so fiercely that Hyunjin hisses loudly, forehead resting on the nape of your neck.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight,” he whispers in your ear. Sweat drips from his skin onto yours. “You’re gonna make me come. Is that what you want?”

You can’t answer. You’re gone, completely gone, beyond words, capable of making only the most broken, pathetic sounds, wantonly mewling as slowly grinds into you, cock rubbing against your clenching walls. When your legs start to go slack, he resumes his thrusting, but at a languorous pace, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to go easy on you now that you’re approaching overstimulation, or if he’s trying to slow himself down.

“I think it is what you want. I think you want me to fill this little pussy up with my cum, don’t you? Hmm?” His nose prods at your cheek. “A sweet creampie for my good girl?”

The whine that you let you out is pitifully loud. White hot shame spikes through you, but only for a second, the emotion quickly burnt away by your fervent need. 

“Come on, tell me. Tell me you want it.” 

“Ahhh!” You gasp as his cock sinks in deeper, hitting your g-spot. It’s almost too much, the delicious drag, and your fingers dig into his arm, nails sinking into his skin. “Fuck!”

“Tell me,” he says again, but this time there’s a plea laced into the command, a desperate edge in his tone that strikes a chord somewhere deep inside you, and suddenly you want to give him anything he needs. 

“Hyunjin, I want it, p-please!” 

Those are the magic words. Hyunjin groans, his hips falling out of their slow rhythm, jerking erratically as he does exactly what he said, shooting his load deep inside you, moaning your name the entire time. You grip the sheets so hard, you’re afraid you’ll tear them, shoving your hips back against his, riding out his climax with him. 

“Pussy’s sucking me dry, sweetheart. So greedy,” he pants, trailing kisses along your neck. “Think it wants more.” 

“Hyunjin!” You sob his name again, voice breaking. All it takes is his fingers pinching at your clit and you’re coming again, stomach twitching, breath leaving your body in one big rush. 

When your body stops trembling, Hyunjin finally slips out of you, his hand falling away from your cunt. He lets out a tired laugh.

“You can take your nails out of my arm. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Oh.” Your neck burns a little in embarrassment. You hadn’t realized you were still holding on to him so tightly, unconsciously keeping him in place. Keeping him close to you. You relax your grip, and he slides his arms around you further, locking you into his embrace. 

It’s… nice, being in Hyunjin’s arms. Really nice. Lying there, in your messy, tired state, you feel rather content. 

But the longer you lie there, just breathing together, not speaking, your head starts to fill with thoughts again. Questions. The most pressing being, at what point is he going to kick you out? Because despite everything that just happened, he’s still Hyunjin, and you’re still you, and - 

“It’s already started.” Hyunjin hums, lightly shaking you. “I can hear you thinking again.” 

Your reflexes kick back in. “It’s just what I do. You should try it some time.” 

To your surprise, Hyunjin starts to laugh. You roll over, nose bumping his as you give him a curious look. 

“What?” 

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” He brushes a finger over your cheek. “You’ve got a fighter’s instinct. It’s one of the things I admire about you. But maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to fight me all the time?” 

You stare at him as you try to make sense of the rather casual confession of admiration he just dropped. Nope. Can’t. Not right now.

“I…” You pause. “Sorry. It’s just a habit.” 

He smiles, something genuine that slowly shifts into his familiar smirk, and even as spent as you are, you feel a stirring inside you. “Guess we need to work on that.”

In the morning, you might regret what you say next. But the night’s not over yet. “Maybe you just didn’t fuck me stupid enough yet.” 

Hyunjin accepts your challenge with a kiss. 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my works.

Taglist: @scoupsjin; @aznstoner; @yourtmblrgirlfriend; @hyunlvrs; @notevenheretbh1; @chrisbangsgalaxy; @dessianna1

[marxy-06]

Favorites Fic Recs 4

was supposed to post this a long time ago but tumblr didn't save...this got a little long, apologies (or you're welcome?)

Kim Seokjin

Replacement (@akinnie75)

The truth untold (@vminity21)

The flower bridge (@yoongsisbae)

Fall for me (@ebonyinktea)

Cinnamon bliss (@yoonia)

Glazed and dazed (@floralseokjin)

Voix (@yoonia)

With you (@yoonpobs)

I'm all yours (@sailoryooons)

Smile (@shuadotcom)

Scar kisses (@girl8890)

No pyjamas (@jinkookspencil)

Min Yoongi

No more (@gyukult)

Chocolate opal (@babesindestroyland)

Changing one's tune (@1uckygold)

Before you go (@sweetcarrotsandroses97)

Perfect for me (@7dipity)

Ps, is it okay if I start calling you dad (@btsficsandsuch)

The third & sixth (@jimlingss)

Insecurities (@taetae-mic)

Performance evaluation (@kookscrescent)

Tricks of the trade (@stutterfly)

I'll protect you (@glassbangtan)

My miss right (@lavenjoon)

Step up (or step out) (@hollyhomburg)

Never, never fall (@joheunsaram)

The seven year itch (@jimlingss)

The sweetest thing (@illneverrecover)

Ink petals (@yminie)

Quiet and qualms (@sugafreeagustd)

Illicit favors (@yoongiofmine)

Jung Hoseok

Outro: love is not over (@kiirokero)

Heaven sent (@aquagustd)

Sunshower (@jimlingss)

Unconditionally (@rmsrkive)

Kim Namjoon

The stand in (@yoonia)

The making of: Love (@inkjam-moon)

Easy, like sunday morning (@angelguk)

Inside my mind (@jimlingss)

Park Jimin

Into the wilderness (@gukyi)

Darling you're beautiful (@choking-on-tae)

Puppy steps (@simp-4-jm)

Strip (@yoonia)

A special gift (@peachy213jiminie)

Lovesick (@jimlingss)

My forever: Park Jimin (@bts-trash-blog)

The only way (@ethertae)

Exposure (@dreamyjoons)

Kim Taehyung

Charade (@ughcore)

Wabi sabi (@flurrys-creativity)

Like real people do (@bangtanloverboys)

Lost in you (@jjkeverlast)

Spice (@aquagustd)

A little while (@noteguk)

Mine to claim (@jimilter)

Colors (@lovelytaes-blog)

Insomnia (@hobiwonder)

Sweeter than peaches (@jiminisnotavirgin)

Jeon Jungkook

Love is gone (@jeonbunnie)

2002 (@tattookoo) -> pt. 2 to 1999

Drown in your body (@sparklingchim)

Last christmas (@whatifyoulivelikethat)

Bleeding for you (@mixtapejimin)

I can handle it (@beautifulfuckup99)

Blackjack (@kpopfanfictrash)

Fifth wish (@jiminrings)

The spins (@here2bbtstrash)

From home (@gyukult)

The habits of a broken heart (@softykooky)

Not tired (@gggukniverse)

Cool with you (@kooktrash)

Late (@elitekook)

ストロベリー (?) (@euaphoric)

Tender (@liveyun)

A friends help (@armpirate)

Nevertheless (@nochukoo97)

Dress you up (@plvmkoo)

Soju (@plvmkoo)

Jealousy ink (@kooktrash)

Starry night (@kithtaehyung)

When she loved me (@jungkookstatts) [only fanfic that has made me cry, tread carefully)

He is love (@btsrunmylife)

Rattled (@gukslut)

Love alive (@jamaisjoons)

1999 (@tattookoo)

Home (@bonny-kookoo)

Tteokkboki (@taetaesbaebaepsae)

Cat got your tongue (@jessikahathaway)

The boxer's girlfriend (@i-am-baechu)

Honest fuckboy (@hobiwonder)

Perfect love (@i-am-baechu)

Soft (@hamsterclaw)

Brown-eyed baby (@jeonstudios)

Wrong time (@spideyjimin)

Cherry (@peachypinkygloss)

Off-league (@hansolmates)

For me (@personasintro)

OT7

Bon voyage: Into the sea (@yoongsisbae)

Thank you to all of the wonderful writers, ily <3

[hamsterclaw]

Fic Library: Yoongi (Pt 1)

My ult bias, it makes sense that there were too many to fit into one list. All of these authors capture the essence of my favourite tsundere king, check these stories out and show them some love.

Pause by @whatifyoulivelikethat. Music producer MYG x reader, domestic abuse. The first time I ever slid into an author's DMs was after I read this, to let them know how much I loved this story. It's unexpected, and profoundly beautiful, and re-reading it now takes me back to where I was when I first read it.

Like Butter by @bonvoyagenoona. Photographers MYG x reader, director KNJ x reader. Set in the setting of a magazine production team, and featuring a very sexy scene with our fave maknae and a scheming Park Jimin.

Countermelody by @bonvoyagenoona. Producer MYG x shopgirl/musician reader. A gorgeously rendered enemies to lovers story that's as much about life, love, new starts, self belief as it is about Min Yoongi and his beanie. IYKYK.

Moonlit throne by @hobidreams.Joseon king Yoongi x reader, historical AU. The seminal Joseon dynasty story told in a non-linear timeline with a perfectly characterised Yoongi and incredible attention to detail.

Three Tangerines by @kithtaehyung. Fuckboy Yoongi x f! reader, brother's best friend AU. 3tan makes it onto almost every fic rec list I've seen, and deservedly so - the dialogue slaps, the writing's sharp and this Yoongi's irresistible.

Bet on it by @minisugakoobies. Quizzers Yoongi x reader, featuring a super competitive reader and Yoongi with a blonde undercut. Hot, fun and hilarious.

Perpetual Datejust by @jiminrings. Model Yoongi x manager reader. A very sweet, romantic read, with a devoted reader and a healthy dose of angst.

Sodium Vapor by @miscelunaaa. Yoongi x f! reader. An atmospheric, wistful read about a chance meeting that also has Em's signature raw honesty.

Man of the year by @raplinesmoon. Single dad Yoongi x gn reader. A sweet, heartwarming read, and Yoongi's relationship with his daughter is adorable.

Look down on me like that by @here2bbtstrash. Co-workers Yoongi x reader, enemies to lovers. There's nothing better than Yoongi being an asshole, and he's written so perfectly here, as are reader and cute and endearing babystarcandy JK.

Teardrop by @hesperantha. Yoongi x reader, road trip AU. I read sometimes just for the pleasure of how a writer puts words to paper, and this is one of those stories - there are so many truths woven into the words, subtle and beautiful.

Moving day (Explicit) by @here2bbtstrash. Yoongi x reader, domestic AU. Sweet, sexy smut involving Yoongi tying up his hair. I repeat, Yoongi tying up his hair. The visual still gives me chills.

Proof by @illneverrecover. Yoongi x reader, strangers to lovers. A confident reader approaches an equally confident, sexy Yoongi with the added bonus of Joon and Jin as supportive besties.

Quiet Kitten by @thatlongspringnight. Professor Yoongi x college student reader - a smutty read with a fiercely sexy, stern Professor Min.

Straight Shooter MYG x reader, cyberpunk AU by @snackhobi. A perfectly characterised Yoongi, a dystopian futuristic setting and a subtle and gorgeous love story that I've read and re-read more times than I can say. The story that pulled me into BTS fanfic that I still have so much love for now.

Punch Drunk MYG x reader, boxer AU by @joonbird. From memory there's an open ending but that hasn't stopped me from re-reading. A troubled Yoongi's depicted so beautifully here.

Greedy MYG x reader, mafia AU by @xjoonchildx. Ana knows how much I love this - this Yoongi breaks my heart every time and I love how the relationship develops between him and reader.

Close Call by @xjoonchildx - a follow up to Greedy that's just as stunning as the OG story. I can't tell you how much I love this. Yoongi's a provider, and he takes care of his own, and there's nothing sexier.

All the wrong places by @mrworldwideshoulders. Yoongi x reader, strangers to lovers, in progress. An intriguingly irritable Yoongi covers the tab for reader at a bar.

Interlude: Sundown by @eoieopda. Part of the Darksided series, featuring Yoongi x reader in an established relationship. Hot, smutty, intimate goodness.

Angel by @sailoryooons. Mafia Yoongi x sex worker reader. I started reading this and couldn't stop - the writing's sharp and riveting and the pacing is perfect. A sexy, smutty, captivating read with a sexy, dangerous Yoongi.

Part 2

[jimins-ass-eater]

LMAO I was just thinking of this the other day!!!!!

I love torturing my friends @illneverrecover @quinnkoo

[ahundredtimesover]

MYG Stories

Happy Min(meow) March! Here are my read and recommended MYG stories. Please send love to the authors 💕💕 and mind the tags (angst, fluff, smut).

To be updated after every leading list is posted.

Arranged marriage

Clockwork heart by @vyduan​ (humour, s)​

Brother’s best friend

Three tangerines by @kithtaehyung (a, s)

College 

Calling the shots series by @rapline-heaux (f) - college yg

Established relationship

Souvenir by @jiminrings (f) - husband au

Welcome home by @kth1 (f, s) - husband, dad au

Can I interest you in some cookies? by @foxymoxynoona (f) - husband, dad au

What if I’m pregnant by @thebangtancloud (f) - husband au

Moving day by @here2bbtstrash​ (s) - boyfriend au

Ex-lovers

The story of us by @eleventoes (f, s)

Under the ice by @hamsterclaw (a, s)

That holly jolly sh*t by @daechwitatamic (a, s)

Ex-things by @namfinessed (a, f)

Friends

Brown piano by @yoongiseesawmp3 (f)

Summer of our youth by @seokth (a, f) - childhood friends au

Fwb with Yoongi by @btssmutgalore - fwb au

Yoongi fingering you until you squirt by @here2bbtstrash (s)

Idol-verse

Permission to pleasure by @bangtanbetchfics​ (s)

Above board by @missbickerbocker (s)

Strangers

Proof by @illneverrecover​ (f) Wallflowers by @bonvoyagenoona (s)

[serensama]

In Sacrifice, Glory.

Author’s notes: I cannot believe it’s really been so long since I’ve written anything. I am so utterly grateful for coming across this fic by Ameldaya a couple of years ago and it really made me think- what would happen if the Hero of Ferelden was sent back from death to become the Inquisitor. What would that mean for the world and moreover, what would that mean to her family, friends and lover. Will she find new life- a new love-  or will the draw of the past prove too strong to truly forget? 

*Please excuse the heavy use of in-game dialogue in the first couple of chapters, it will lighten up considerably but I found it necessary at the start of the story*

My love for my betas @femme-moon and @illneverrecover - thank you for joining me, your support on this journey back into writing and my never-ending thanks for making my work legible.  

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1:

It was cold.

It smelled of dank and medicine — unpleasant.

It hurt.

Everything, everywhere; there was only pain.

She knew she was precariously close to passing back out; she could feel the hazy sensation from the back of her head try to reclaim her already heavy eyes. It would be so easy to go back to sleep; she knew she wouldn’t be cold anymore and the pain would just go awa– was she wearing manacles? Why was she being shackled, and where the hell was she–?

A flash of green flared before a whip of something akin to electricity coursed through the air and into her arm, the pain banishing the respite of sweet oblivion. It needled through her nervous system like thin branches of steel. Though it was quick to dissipate, a sting lingered in her hand like the crack of a cane against exposed flesh.

She blinked rapidly in an attempt to refocus herself; she could hear the rustle of clothes and armour all around her. So she was surrounded, and by people who did not trust her. Of course they don’t trust you; you’re chained up in a freezing, disgusting cell. You’re not exactly the Queen of Antiva, are you? Her thoughts paused as she tried to recall who she actually was, and the answer was right there; she could feel it, just barely out of reach.

The door swung open, allowing a blistering chill to sweep the room along with the entrance of two women. She heard the guards around her relax their stance as the new arrivals strode into the room. She registered that one woman was speaking to her, but she was so focused on recalling her own name that she couldn’t understand the words that were said.

“Explain this!” the woman barked at her as she grabbed her arm, inciting the green sparks to come back to life from her palm. She may have not known or understood much at that time, but she did know that it was not there before, and every survival instinct within her body screamed at her not to lie to the woman. She would not be allowed to live to see the next five minutes, let alone another day.

“I– I can’t,” she managed to utter out, her own voice sounding foreign to her. She attempted to peer up at one of her captors, the beginnings of a sneer forming on her otherwise attractive face.

“What do you mean you can’t?” she questioned as both she and her hooded counterpart continued to circle her like animals ready to strike. Frustration was starting to bubble out of her, and she prayed to any higher power to allow her to cold-cock both women out with the wood from her restraints, but still, she proceeded with the only truths she knew. “I don’t know what this is or how it got there.”

She watched as the woman’s eyes squinted before accusing her of lying and lunged at her before the other one managed to hold her back. She reasoned with “Cassandra” before swinging around to finally take a good look at the bound woman, now in a better position to properly view her face as she stared back up at her.

Impossible.

“You...,” she began as her eyes widened and the colour rushed out of her face. The prisoner fought the urge to flinch under such scrutiny; it was as if the hooded woman was trying to glean the meaning of life from her very pores. “You... How dare you!” she cried out as her features crumpled into the perfect mixture of despair and horror. “How dare you use her face, her face, in front of me!” A wave of confusion fell about the room at the unexpected reaction.

“You foul, loathsome, unholy fiend! Take it off– take off her face at once, demon!” she demanded, one hand fisted in rage the other behind her, holding a weapon at the ready. “If you do not stop using her face, I will peel it off of you.”

The original interrogator rushed forward and forcefully wedged herself in between them with an arm outstretched to placate her while the other hovered above her sword.  “What is the meaning of this Leliana?” she asked, straightening to her full height. “What are you talking about?” Leliana huffed indignantly as if the mere question was an affront to her. She raised both hands up to show that she was in no danger of attacking anyone, at least not quite yet. “That thing is a demon; listen to me— no, stop, listen to me — they say something fell out of the sky? That she fell out of the sky? That is a demon, and we need to be rid of it before it has the chance to hurt anyone else.”

Cassandra regarded her and sighed heavily. With all that had happened to the world recently, the last thing they needed was for the Left Hand of the Divine to start seeing demons everywhere. The Seeker placed a hand on Leliana’s shoulder and squeezed firmly, hoping that it would bring her back to herself and out of whatever daze came upon her. “Calm yourself, Leliana. Do you honestly believe if she was a demon that she would have been kept at bay by some chains? That she would not have taken the opportunity to decimate our forces at first chance?”

“You have not seen what I have seen, Cassandra,” she cautioned, her eyes still fixated on the kneeling woman.

“Perhaps I have; perhaps I have not. Either way, until she proves herself to be a demon or she has been deemed for execution by trial, she needs to live.”

Leliana remained on edge but at least realised the truth in what was said. Of course Cassandra was right, but that thing was still sitting there with her face, and it made her want to scream. She nodded tersely to signify her concession and took a step back whilst she prayed to the Maker for strength. Strength to continue on with what was needed to be done and strength to stay her hand from letting her knife fly towards the monster’s head.

“Do... Do you remember what happened then? How this all began?” she asked, just waiting for the chance to call out her lies. The prisoner furrowed her brow, confused at the sudden change of tactic. She searched her mind, as foggy as it was, but a memory came forward of her in what could only be described as some sort of hellscape, chased by all manner of beasts from her worst nightmares. There was no end in sight until a being of light called out to her, her words too indistinct to hear, but she knew that if she could make it to her side, it would mean safety in this place. “Things were chasing me… and then… a woman,” she sputtered, unsure if her captors would believe her, unsure if she even believed herself.    

“... A woman?” Leliana probed, her curiosity needing to be sated. “She... she reached out to me, but then- I...”

Leliana stepped forward, wanting to hear more. She needed to know whether this woman was Divine Justinia and if she had any information that could tell them about how and why the Conclave was destroyed. About why she had to die. Sensing a conversation they didn’t have time for, Cassandra moved her back towards the door and assured her that any further explanations would be done on their way. Leliana took a long look at the chained woman, furious that she had too many questions that required answers and no good place to start asking them, so she forced herself to swallow them down and willed her feet to move.

The guards followed in suit and left the two women alone. Cassandra made slow, deliberate movements to show that she was not going to hurt her but release her.

“What did happen?” the prisoner asked as she rotated her wrists once she was freed from the manacles, disappointed that she was still bound by rope. She bit back the urge to groan as she stood up, her muscles protesting at the movement after being stationary for so long.

“It would be easier if I showed you.”

—

She tried to take in everything the Seeker said, along with trying to process the gaping green gash across the skyline and the looming sense of dread that emanated from it. The sky flashed a bright emerald, and the spikes of pain flowed freely within her once more. The terror of being so mortally linked to something so horrible made her want to crawl back into the dungeon once more. This was too much, too soon. Who could possibly handle all this... to find a way to save the world and herself? “... It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time,” Cassandra explained, her dark eyes focused on the pulsating mark.

There wasn’t much choice either.

“If I can help... I will.”

Cassandra cut the rope and led her through the camp. She didn’t need to be told that everyone there hated her and that they all held her responsible for the tragedy that befell them. It was evident in their stares and in all the words they didn’t say. All that was missing was some rotten food being thrown at her and them hissing as she passed. It was just another weight she carried in the palm of her hand.

“Come, it is not far.” “Where are you taking me?”

“Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach. We are heading into the valley.”

She tried her best to ignore the cries of the soldiers, their fears of the impending apocalypse only adding to the fear festering within her gut. She centred her vision on what was ahead, to learn whatever she could and try to bungle together a makeshift bandage to heal the haemorrhaging sky. She was about to ask for more information when another crack from the heavens had her yelping and falling to the ground, grasping uselessly at the offending hand to dull the agony.

“How did I survive the blast?” she questioned as she accepted Cassandra’s offered hand to stand up. She could see that Cassandra wasn’t sure herself, only parroting the information she was told from others who were at the scene. She stepped out of a rift? There was a woman standing behind her? Well, it lined up with what she remembered, but none of it made sense to her. Surely this was some sort of nightmare after a long night of quaffing ale; she was going to wake up somewhere in a gutter with nothing more than a hangover to worry about.

“Stay behind me!” Cassandra yelled out, rousing her from her internal reverie.

A hideous, hunched creature with spindly arms and a menacing presence manifested in front of them. She wasn’t going to argue with Cassandra; she was unarmed and her body still weak from who knows how long she was stuck in the dungeon. She was looking around to see where she could possibly hide without looking like she was trying to escape when a familiar feeling of peril sprung from underfoot. The demon, it had to be, came towards her, and she desperately searched for a rock to at least defend herself with until Cassandra was able to finish it off. Fortunately, a staff lay on the ground not too far from her reach, and she staked she could probably just smack at it from a distance long enough to survive.

Once she held the staff between her fingers, she felt a surge of adrenaline swim through her, and the almost paralysing fear she previously had was nothing but an afterthought. What a way to find out that she was the kind of person to fight and not take flight.

The demon–no, not just a demon, that’s a Shade– swiped at her, its claws dangerously close to slicing into her forearm. She raised the staff above her head and struck it on its own, then pulled it back to jab the spiked tip into its face, inciting a piercing noise of pain from the monster. Over and over she landed hits to its sides and arms, but she was doing nothing but angering the damned thing. Panic had slowly seeped back into her periphery; Cassandra was still in battle with her own demon, and she was fighting with a sword and shield;  there was no way she would survive with just a glorified branch swatting at the Shade. She would have to get her companion to notice her plight and fight alongside her if she wished to preserve what she believed was the key to closing the Breach.

Taking in a quick, deep breath, she screamed out as she slammed the end of her staff into the ice, hard enough for a loud crack to sound out. However, it wasn’t the ice that made the noise; it was from the clap of thunder that came with tendrils of lightning flowing from her staff and into the demon. The smell of ozone and the presence of magic in the air was reason enough for Cassandra to take her eyes off her fight for a second, the level of shock written upon the warrior’s face mirroring her own.

The demon lurched forward, enraged from the blistering wounds on its skin, its attacks more erratic and frenzied as pain muddled its mind and body. She managed to weave and bob away from it whilst swinging the staff around— some of her movements causing blasts of energy to fly out towards the creature, and others just creating useless sparks that lit up the tip like a flickering candle. The prisoner took the staff in both of her hands and drove it into the ground again, summoning a large beam of lightning that pierced the Shade through the top of its head and found purchase one foot deep into the ice beneath it. Dead. Finally.

Cassandra won her battle and stalked towards the prisoner with her sword raised as if she had just tried to kill her instead of the demon.

“It’s over. Drop your weapon now!” She barked at her, easily forgetting that not even 10 minutes earlier she had kindly helped her stand, and now she was back to acting like she was part of the angry mob back at the village.

“Alright,” she surrendered with both arms held out to show that she meant no harm and moved to drop the staff away.

Cassandra pulled a face like she had just remembered something as she sheathed her weapon.

“Wait, I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenceless... I should remember that you agreed to come willingly.” The prisoner sighed in relief, clutching the staff tightly. For the first time since coming to in that dungeon, she felt like she had a fighting chance to survive. They moved on at Cassandra’s bidding, fighting their way through rounds of demons, and just like the first fight with the Shades, the spells she naively weaved fluctuated from doing nothing to utter devastation, earning her questioning glances from the Seeker. She couldn’t help it; she didn’t know what the hell she was doing. All she knew was that she wanted to live and that this staff was helping her do it. “We’re getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting,” Cassandra said, her breathing laboured since their last fight when a rage demon landed a hit to her ribcage.

“Who’s fighting?”

“You’ll see soon. We must help them.”

Standing back to back were an elf and a dwarf fighting off a throng of demons; there was a small green rift in space behind them where more of the cursed beasts were fighting to get through. She did her best to keep up with the party as they cut down the demons one after another, but she barely made a dent before the team defeated them all. For the second time that day, someone she didn’t know grabbed her left arm without her permission. “Quickly, before more come through!” he yelled as if that was explanation enough and aimed her open hand toward the rift. An odd feeling came upon her, like the rift was trying to suck in whatever was inside of her back into it to make it whole. The mark on her hand grew hot, and the seams of it felt like she was sliding down a never-ending coarse rope. When the rift had taken what it needed, the disconnection between her and the rift caused her to stumble back from the sheer force retreating back inside her hand.

“What did you do?” she asked as she looked down at her glowing appendage, thoroughly surprised that it managed to do anything other than periodically torture her.  

“I did nothing; the credit is yours.”

“Well, at least this is good for something.”

She wasn’t proud to say that she had drifted out of the conversation as she took in the scene around her, doing her best to reconcile all that had transpired and the ramifications for the world if she was to fall. Would the mark leave her body? Would it pass on to someone else? Would killing her release the mark and patch the hole in the sky— and if she already had these thoughts, who else may have had them first —and who would want to test those theories?

“It seems you hold the key to our salvation,” the elf continued, seemingly unaware the woman had not heard one word he had said.  “Good to know! Here I thought we’d be ass deep in demons forever,” the dwarf joked as he made his way to shake her hand. “Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong,” he continued, sending a wink to the Seeker, which earned him nothing but a scowl that would cause most men’s testicles to retreat within themselves. She was going to say something along the lines of ‘nice to meet you, Varric’ or ‘are you really from the Chantry with that kind of crossbow’ but Cassandra and Varric were already arguing like an old married couple. She couldn’t tell if there was some unresolved conflict between the two or if they just needed to roll around naked a little bit, or perhaps a little bit of both.

The sound of movement near her had her spin around with staff at the ready. The elf offered her a small smile as he wiped the bottoms of his feet on a patch of snow beside her that was clean of any demon remains. “My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I’m pleased to see you still live.”

“Uh... what?-” “He means,” Varric called over, pausing his bickering with Cassandra, which further infuriated the warrior. “I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.” “Oh... thank you... and thank you, Solas,” she said, bowing her head slightly.

“Thank me if we manage to close the Breach without killing you in the process,” he replied, waving away her thanks. “Cassandra,” he called over to her as she continued to glower at Varric, “your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.” “Understood,” she easily accepted as she marched ahead, wordlessly ordering them to follow her.

She fell in step with Solas as they headed out toward the forward camp, the awkward elf providing her more comfort with his silence than her friendly banter with Varric, or Cassandra’s desolate stoicism. She had taken to watching him as he fought and tried to incorporate what she could as she stood by him, often catching him watching her from the corner of his eye. He was the perceptive type; of course he noticed when the other mage in the party could barely control her magic, but thankfully he remained silent on the topic.

“So, Lady Prisoner-” “Oh, you do not need to refer to me as such; actually, I would prefer it if you didn’t,” she chuckled as she trudged alongside him. “As you wish. May I confirm by which name you would prefer to be called?” Solas queried good-naturedly, one fine eyebrow raised along with the corner of his mouth. She halted mid-step at what should be a very simple answer, at least it would have been if she knew. He turned on his heel and leant against his staff, regarding her with concern. “If this is something you would rather not discuss–” “N-no, it’s not that…” “Do you perhaps not recall it?” he asked as he raised his hand, a thin veil of visible mana shrouding it. “Did I miss an injury to your head as you slept? Are you feeling any dizziness or pain?”

Dread. It was there festering away. You know it, you know it. You know who you are. Say it.

“... or did the guards mistreat you after I had left? I was assured that harming unconscious prisoners was not something Seeker Cassandra or Sister Leliana condoned.”

You know it.“It’s Elissa. My name. My name is Elissa,” she quickly answered, astounded at the name that spilled from her lips, a name she knew to be her own. Her heartbeat slowed as some of the fog cleared in her mind. “I see. Elissa, Elissa of house?” he prodded further, eyes boring into her.

Elissa opened her mouth to answer but found that this time she had nothing— no miracle name to save her, no magical epiphany or memory fortuitously recalled.

“I... I don’t remember.”

“Ahh,” Solas frowned as he stood closer to her, lowering his voice to ensure the others could not hear. “Do you remember how old you are? The name of the land on which we stand? The year?” he continued, wanting to understand how deep her memory lapse went. Elissa grimaced as she tried her best to wade through her mind for more answers about herself, but no matter how she tried it was like there was some sort of force not letting her go any further.

“I’m pretty sure this is Ferelden, perhaps near Orzammar? And I think it is 9:30? And... and I believe I’m of age... I think. I– don’t know,” she replied, her voice breaking near the end. She did her best to read his cloudy expression but found that he was well beyond her league.

“9:30?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “Yes, I don’t know how I know, but it must be 9:30.”

Solas pursed his lips as he racked through his mind for an answer but fell short. He knew that the fights ahead needed her as calm as possible, especially with her unpredictable magic, and letting her know that she was missing over 10 years of her memories would not be conducive to the composed state required.

“It is best if we cease this line of discussion. I did not mean to cause you any distress; my apologies,” he motioned for them to keep following their companions. “We will not continue at this stage, but I fear it is something that must be addressed. I do not see any physical reason as to why your memory fails you, so perhaps we can find something in your mind or spirit that stops you from knowing who you truly are.”

“You would help me with this?” she asked, touched that someone she did not know would offer such a kindness, especially during a time where something like one person’s memory meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Solas’ expression softened as he looked over to her and smiled once more. “I got you into this by ensuring you survived; it only stands to reason that I help make that life worth living.”

—

Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice. Keep the sacrifice still.

Someone– help me!

What’s going on here?

Run while you can, warn them!

We have an intruder– kill her, now!

Elissa... Elissa... you’re needed, my darling.

Pup, it’s time to get up; you know we always complete our duty.

It is not fair, we know, to ask this of you again. But there is no one else; it can only be you.

—

The first memory she had was looking at a woman, a Mother from the Chantry? She was held captive and crying out for help. It wasn’t long until she saw another woman come running in to assist her, but she was quickly struck down.

She walked towards her before she could stop herself and found herself standing beside her. She did not know how she got there; one minute she was watching the scene unfold from afar, and the next she was in the scene. So many eyes on her from faces she could not see, a voice commanding them to kill her too... and then, nothing.

Except a voice.

A voice telling her they were sorry, and then the overwhelming urge to cry engulfed her before darkness took over.

—

Elissa shot up, ready to fight.

There was a giant pride demon about to trample her, and she needed to stay alive; she needed to get away.

She soon realised that she no longer lay on the ground with the rubble of the destroyed temple strewn about her, but in a wooden cabin of sorts. She could see that it was daytime and could hear that people were going about their daily lives. There was no imminent danger here – no demons, no shadows of dreams she could not understand. Just her, the walls, and a frightened elf.

... a frightened elf?

“I beg your forgiveness and your blessing; I am but a humble servant. You are back in Haven, my Lady,” she rambled, large eyes darting back and forth from Elissa and the ground, unsure if she was allowed to look upon her. “They say... you saved us. The Breach stopped growing just like the mark on your hand. It’s all anyone has talked about for the last three days.” She did no such thing. 

She remembered the fight; all she could do was stand behind Varric as she did her best to disrupt the rift and follow Solas’ barked orders about her casting to survive. She was no great warrior who charged into danger for honour and valour, she just wanted everyone to live. Elissa smiled at the servant and tried to calm her down, but only seemed to frazzle the poor thing further. Practically panicking as she told her Cassandra wished to be told the moment she woke up before racing out the door.

Elissa closed her eyes and breathed in the cool mountain air, crisp and clean. She knew she had to report to Cassandra before the brunette came looking for her upon learning she had woken, otherwise she’d ruin the chance of being trusted to walk about on her own. The last thing she wanted was to have Cassandra have to babysit her or worse, Leliana. The woman had looked at her as if she had every intention of murdering her in her sleep and then somehow finding her in the Fade to kill her again if at all possible, just to make sure she got the job done.

Unsure if she was allowed to look around the hut or not, she only touched the large bowl and pitcher of water to quickly clean the sleep from herself. She was in dire need of a toothbrush and a comb to tame her pillow mussed hair, but she wasn’t about to rifle through the owner’s things lest someone walk in and accuse her of petty theft on top of mass murder. Oh we could forgive the explosion, the thousands of people dead, killing the religious leader of your country... but borrowing little so-and-so’s brush? Stealing some paste to use with your finger like a barbarian- that’s what will tip the scales to beheading.Elissa looked at her faint reflection through the cabin’s window and resigned herself to looking like hell and breathing down wind for the rest of the day, with any luck she’d be able to pop in and out of the Chantry without having to make too much small talk.

She pulled the door open and knew the Maker was out there somewhere, laughing at her. The Bastard.

One soldier had noticed her and saluted at her arrival, alerting what seemed to be everyone in the entire village of Haven. One by one, the citizens stopped what they were doing to stand agape at her before falling in line with the soldier to hold a fist to their heart, and fall into a respectful bow to her. Elissa could feel her heart thump heavily against her chest as it made its way up to her throat, a chill creeping against her nape that she knew was not from the frosty weather. To go from being universally hated to unequivocally adored was a little much to comprehend after just waking up.

Taking a cautious step outside of the cabin and carefully closing the door behind her, she stiffly nodded to some people and tried to say a weak hello to others but was met with only hushed whispers of, “M-My Lady” as if she was too holy to even meet eye to eye. Their reverence, their faith, their hope- evoked more fear within her than anything else had. She quickly realised that there was no way she could remain out and about in the main camp without everyone watching her every movement. The beginnings of anxiety coiled within the pit of her stomach. Elissa didn’t know why but she knew she had felt this way before, as if people would line up around her and just lie in wait to see if she would fail. Clearing her throat as she placed the merchant’s wares down- why was she even looking at a sword for- she thanked him for his time and made her way directly to the Chantry.

She thanked the Maker that the building was empty, however as she got closer to the main room she quickly understood why, three voices, only slightly muffled but still quite understandable, resounded behind the old wooden doors. Elissa could not control herself as her eyes rolled at the sound of the old man, Roger?- no Rupert, no Roderick- of course he didn’t trust them or her. Just another person in a position of power who didn’t realise the greater threat when they were literally standing right under it. Did they have time to take her to Val Royeaux when the world was falling apart and she held the only known key to help fix it? Bloody bureaucrats.

Hating the idea that they were talking about her without being able to join in on the fun, Elissa opened the door and almost cracked a smile when everyone in the room turned to her like a bunch of startled deer. She commended herself at her near seamless save of turning her guffaw-cum-cough at Cassandra dismissing the Chancellor’s order to arrest her as if he were merely a petulant child throwing a temper tantrum. She half expected the Seeker to turn him about her knee and start swatting at his bum and deny him supper for misbehaving. Foolishly deciding to join the fray, Elissa stepped into the room and peered down at the map on the table, a flash of memory, another table, another map came unbidden to her. She pushed it to the side, it was of no consequence. There were probably countless times she had seen tables with maps on them throughout her life prior to waking up in the dungeon.

“The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it,” Cassandra said, staring pointedly at the Chancellor.

“I did what I could,” Elissa started, feeling somewhat affronted. “I did everything I could to close the Breach; and if anyone was paying attention- it almost killed me.” “Yet you live. A convenient result, insofar as you’re concerned,” he retorted, insinuating something that rankled at her. She didn’t remember anything, that was fair, but she knew she wasn’t some master schemer whose life goal was to kill everyone and deface the sky.

Leliana caught her eye for the briefest of moments before squaring them off to the pebble in everyone’s shoe, Chancellor Roderick. "Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone the Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others- or have allies who yet live.”

The old man puffed up at the insinuation that he could have been involved and was quick to point his finger back at Elissa. “So her survival, that thing on her hand, it’s all a coincidence then?” he spat, his cheeks flushed with anger.

“Providence,” Cassandra corrected. “The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour.”

Now, she certainly did not believe that. She believed she must have gotten a great knock to the head and unfortunately woke up with a shiny, green cursed mark on her hand – probably ate something funny at a pub and instead of the runs, she got the key to all salvation – but she knew that playing along at that moment would truly enrage the Chancellor, and she was in no mind to pass that up.

“Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide,” she recited as humbly as she could, thankful at least one thing came to mind rather than just saying ‘the Maker and me go waaaay back. He usually goes by Steve.’ Elissa turned to Cassandra, hoping that she would catch onto her plan, only to feel mildly horrified that her warrior friend was looking back at her as if she had just given her the right to proclaim her as the next Divine.

“We... we lost everything and then, out of nowhere, you came.”

Ah, shit.

“You do realise I am a mage?” she asked feebly in an attempt to knock some sense into the Seeker.

“I have not forgotten. No matter what you are, or what you believe, you are exactly what we needed, when we needed it.”

Ah, double shit.

She wasn’t quite sure what happened next, she had seen Cassandra pull out a book that looked thick enough to kill a Druffalo and thought she was about to bludgeon the man right there in the Chantry. It was probably for the best that Roderick left as it looked like all three women were entertaining the idea that they could have made his death look like an accident; that the cause of death was him running backwards, head first into the wall a dozen times or so. Stranger things had already happened, why not that.

“... We aren’t ready. We have no leader, no numbers and now, no Chantry support,” Leliana huffed, motioning vaguely towards the long gone Chancellor.

“But we have no choice, we must act now,” the Seeker replied, bolstered by the belief in Elissa being Andraste-sent, “with you at our side.”

Elissa could feel her chest constrict again, the brief moment of respite she found in sassing the chancellor, slipped through her grasp and quickly replaced with apprehension. At the end of the day did she have a choice? Truly. If she didn’t help, the world would be at the mercy of the open sky and the unnamed villain still cloaked in shadow. And she’d probably be dead. Most definitely be dead. She tightened the cord at the end of her dishevelled braid as she weighed up her options and blurted the first thing that came to mind in response to their sincere faith in her and their cause.

“When I woke up, I certainly didn’t picture this outcome.’’

Instinctively, she swung her gaze towards Leliana, afraid that she had managed to offend the woman by her glibness. Surprisingly she found her expression to have tempered considerably and the dangerous edge she held in her eyes had dulled, if only by a little.

“Neither did we,” she replied simply, the beginning of a small smile softening her appearance.

Looking between the two women as if she was trying to read between some invisible lines for more clues, Elissa released the breath she didn’t know she was still holding on to.

Survive. You’re here now and you don’t know where you came from. You don’t know where you were going to. Stay and remember. Stay and fight.

With more resolution than she intended, Elissa outstretched her hand over the table, waiting for one of them to take hold. It would not be until much later that night, in the dark of her borrowed cabin; that she feared that their handshake would either save the world, or doom it.

Chapter 2

[piedpiperslists]

Hi! Do you have any recs on acts of service/thoughtful jungkook? If not, that's okay, its super specific 😅

Hi. So, it turns out I can't for the life of me tell if something is an act of service or not 😭 some of this might just be Jungkook being thoughtful or whipped, so I'm sorry if it's not what you're asking for.

This is over 20 fics so I'll put it under the cut.

* s - contains smut

This first list is all established relationship:

4:37 PM by honeytae - drabble (s) / established relationship Summary: A bad day never stays that way thanks to a man named Jeon Jungkook.

A Nugget of Comfort by madbutgloriouspond - drabble / established relationship Summary: Jungkook comes home to find you crying in the bedroom.

Breathe for You by illneverrecover - drabble (s) / established relationship, domestic au Summary: You’re always cold, but Jungkook comes up with the sweetest and most creative ways to warm you up.

Call Me by army-author - drabble / established relationship Summary: “You can call me whenever you want… Even if you don’t have a reason to.”

Colder than Normal by bubmyg - drabble / established relationship, college au Summary: Jeongguk doesn’t know how to handle arguments let alone proper apologies or it’s supposed to be cold and you’ve left your favorite hoodie at his apartment.

Sneezes And Cuddles by ditttiii - drabble / established relationship Summary: You hate being sick. You hate spring more, but somehow being cuddled by your boyfriend, makes it all worth it.

Sweetener by jeonbunnie - drabble (s) / established relationship, PWP Summary: Jeongguk knows just what to do to make you feel better.

Swings by thecozywhaleshark - drabble / established relationship Summary: A little playground date with your favorite golden maknae.

The Angry Snowman by artaefact - drabble / established relationship, college au Summary: When he lends you his hoodie.

Tongue at Work by 7waystreet - drabble (s) / established relationship Summary: Your boyfriend Jungkook surprises you at work with a little more than a cup of coffee on his mind.

Unwind by yoonia - drabble (s) / established relationship, college au Summary: When he helps you unwind from your study night.

“Why the hell are you bleeding?” by taeken-my-heart - drabble / established relationship

A Blight on the Heart by thatlongspringnight - one shot (s) / wc~13.3k / established marriage, historical au Summary: You married him because you wanted a new life, and even with the struggle, the fights, you’d marry him again any day. Or - Jungkook loves you from the moment he reads your first letter, and the rest is history.

Space by jeonbunnie - one shot / wc~4.8.k / established relationship Summary: All boyfriend Jeongguk wants is to be by your side, but honestly? You just need some space.

Taming of the Flu by kpopfanfictrash - one shot / wc~2.4k / new relationship Summary: When you are sick, the last thing you want to do is call your boyfriend for help. But somehow, he finds out anyways.

[...] Wear You Out by lemonyko0 - one shot (s) / wc~2.2k / established relationship Summary: No amount of warm baths and hot tea can lure you into sleep, but Jungkook knows just the thing.

And these are some that are not established relationship aus but I thought might also fit your request:

Heartbeat by blackswanswriting-blog - drabble / neighbors au Summary: Insomnia strikes once again. One night you end up calling your friend, Jungkook, for help. You used to think the best time of day was right around when the sunsets since you could enjoy all of the gorgeous hues that would paint the sky. However, over the past couple of months, that feeling has changed as Jungkook slowly becomes the only thing that can help you sleep when you experience a sleepless night. Now your favorite is between the hours of 2:00 am and 4:00 am. What started out as bouts of insomnia quickly became the most beautiful times.

Damn the Delivery Boy by deerguk - one shot / wc~9.6k / FWB, expecting parents au Summary: Jeon Jeongguk is a computer science major working as a pizza delivery boy, and you are an uninspired published author who has just started an art degree. When you realise that the delivery boy is your old high school crush, he keeps coming back, but with more to offer than just puff pastry and vegetarian supreme. Though little did he know that he would end up giving you something much more that flips both of your worlds completely upside down in the form of two blue lines and nine months.

High Demand by bunnyhugs77 - one shot (s) / wc~2.6k / dealer!Jungkook, college au Summary: A modern day Romeo and Juliet.

Sweeter than Strawberries by cinnaminsvga - onoe shot / wc~4.5k / strangers to lovers, bakery au Summary: At Euphoria bakery, seasonal changes also bring seasonal menu items. When you find out that your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake was phased out after the end of summer, it takes only one puppy eyed look from you for Jeon Jungkook to make it for you anyway—just don’t tell his boss about it, alright?

A Still Day or a Hurricane by ahundredtimesover - series (s) / pastry chef!Jungkook, lawyer!reader, single mom!reader, strangers to lovers Summary: Driven by your perfectionist attitude and need to have everything in order, you planned that by age 30, you’d have made junior partner, bought your own apartment, and have children. You achieved them, of course, and while the last bit required you to take matters into your own hands - no thanks to your ex-boyfriend who dumped you but to your best friend who directed you to a fertility clinic - you’re now a 31-year old who pretty much has her life under control. You’re ready to raise your child on your own, that is, until the 20-something pastry chef flirts his way into your heart, messing up the perfect little life you worked so hard to have for yourself.

Two Point Five by bratkook - series (s) / handyman!Jungkook, FWB Summary: Who would have thought booking a handyman from an app would lead to this. Sure, you wish he’d mount you instead of just your television, but you could totally be friends. Right?

[serensama]

I met one of the bestest people ever because of their fic-binge on my master list. Love to love you @illneverrecover , bless your cotton socks ❤️

Nothing beats the feeling when you start getting comments on every fic in a fandom or ship from one person, and it’s clear that they’re going on a fic-binge. 

[serensama]

@illneverrecover @feelsgood-anon 😍❤️🙏

[hamsterclaw]

Fic Library: Yoongi (Pt 2)

My ult bias, it makes sense that there were too many to fit into one list. All of these authors capture the essence of my favourite tsundere king, check these stories out and show them some love. Part 1 here.

A Steamy Conversation by @madbutgloriouspond. Yoongi x f! reader. You walk in on a half-naked, dripping wet, tangerine haired Yoongi, he's mean and cocky and the inevitable happens. Smutty perfection from Memes.

Clockwork Heart by @vyduan. Yoongi x reader. The chaebol tsundere Yoongi that I'll never stop screaming about. A brilliant, capable reader, a hot Yoongi who does secret acts of kindness, and beautifully rendered side characters including wise and witty BFF Seokjin.

Knee-high by @jjungkookislife. Yoongi x reader in an established relationship. A sexy, skirt wearing, orange haired, watermelon chapstick using Yoongi with a lip piercing in a smutty, enjoyable read.

I'm not even gonna say it by @taetaespeaches. Yoongi x reader. An incredibly cute, fluffy read, where Yoongi stops for lemonade on a swelteringly hot day.

Fireworks by @starlostjimin. Yoongi x f! reader in an established relationship. A soft, fluffy, spicy story with the domestic Yoongi of my dreams.

Too hot to sleep by @gamerguk. Fiance Yoongi x reader - a short, smutty read with a hilarious cameo from Hobi at the end.

The Sweetest Thing by @illneverrecover. A super cute sweet treat featuring a grumpy florist Yoongi and a baker reader.

Kinkmas Day Four drabble by @monimonimoon. A deliciously hot, petty co-worker Yoongi at the office Christmas party.

On the nature of living by @sugalaritae. Griddle's an incredible writer, and this very beautiful story starts off with Yoongi x a ghost reader and resonates so much with me emotionally.

Home by @junghelioseok. Secret agent AU with Yoongi x reader. Short, sweet and comforting.

Set me free by @hesperantha. A time-travel tale with tragedy of epic proportions. You won't have read anything else quite like it.

The one with Yoongi, Netflix and zero chill by @eoieopda. A hilarious reader, a fluffy and cuddly Yoongi and softness and feelings all round.

Yoongi is a rock by @yoongsisbae. A beautifully written story that made me think about mortality and constancy and has the singularly beautiful line ‘And when Yoongi cracked he thought of you’. It gives me chills remembering it. Stunning.

The one with Yoongi and the fucking hydrangeas by @eoieopda. I knew I was in for angst when I started reading but I didn't bank on the beautifully realised longing and characters I wanted to cry for. I adore this.

Best served cold by @anotherbtswriter. Yoongi and afab reader in a mafia AU with drama, tsundere Yoongi energy and a duplicitous family. Riveting.

Bao by @whatifyoulivelikethat. Delivery boy Yoongi x chef reader. One of the first Yoongi stories I read, and have re-read so many times since then. This Yoongi's so perfectly characterised, and there's a cameo from a sexy model Taehyung too.

Dominance and Domesticity by @theharrowing. A Yoongi who doms you in the bedroom and also does ironing? Where do I sign up? Sexy perfection.

Cybersex by @gimmethatagustd. Yoongi x f! reader. Reader is a phone sex hotline operator in this brother's best friend AU. Featuring a hot, confident, capable Yoongi who nearly set my screen on fire.

Shameless by @vyduan. Idolverse AU with Yoongi and reader. A stunning story, part of the Her multiverse series, with complex, layered characters that are so beautifully human. One of the first stories I read when I started reading BTS fanfic, and one I won't forget.

[serensama]

It is bloody invigorating to write again.

I can feel the cobwebs being dusted off and I’m coming back to who I was- it’s freaking amazing! I’m excited to write again!

Much love to @illneverrecover who reminded me to set goals everyday. Realistic goals. 300 words a day. And suddenly writing 2k out of nowhere feels like a massive achievement instead of a disappointment. What a freaking rush 🙌🙌🙌

[xjoonchildx]

i'm lovesick. and yes, it's terminal.

okay, see the thing is that i am on a mission to marry all of the best writers on tumblr (see the whirlwind pining/stalking/begging storyline from 2020 starring @illneverrecover for reference) and so now -- well, i'm just a girl sitting in front of a computer screen -- asking an internet stranger to love me. IS THAT SO WEIRD?

anyway.

there are no words for this yoongi but to say that no man -- NO MAN -- has ever done dirty talk so right. everything jade did in this fic, flipping the switch on the mood, yoongi directing each of OC's movements and thoughts -- all of it. legit. insane.

(the lookback at the chair? literally the ghost of me is the one drooling at this reblog)

anyway.

all of that to say. that. this fic was fucking fantastic.

CALL ME JADE 💍

darksided (myg)

Min Yoongi adored you. He'd simply never hurt you - unless you asked.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader Type: One-Shot - SMUT (You must be 18+ to ride this ride.) Word Count: 4.4K Content: established relationship au; soft bf yoongi turned mean!dom!yoongi at the request of sub!reader; p in v penetration; unprotected sex/creampie (be safe, y'all); oral sex (m receiving); brief face-fucking; v fingering; squirting; a lil degradation and spit kink, as a treat; harsh language; after-care; also cavity-inducing fluff A/N: This was nine (9) pages in Word - my longest smut ever, all because this man-bun era has got me FUCKED up. Barely proofread (sorry ily). Check out my other fics here. 12/11/22 A/N: The sequel, blindsided, is finally here! check it out when you're done here :)

“When I signal you, that’s when you press the button, okay?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared down at his recording equipment – a galaxy in its own right, lit up like a Christmas tree. He may as well have asked you to defuse a bomb, except you couldn’t even identify the bomb. “There are approximately three thousand buttons in front of me right now,” you whined. 

He was exhausted and you knew it – you could feel it – but his patience with you was, as always, limitless. His fondness for you still shone through his eyes, overpowering the dark circles looming below, as if he hadn’t made a mistake in inviting you into his office. Then there was his laugh, surprising enough to smack you but so soft that it cradled you. “It’s the only one that says ‘record,’ jagiya.” 

A quick survey of the landscape before you indicated that this was a criminal oversimplification. There was a minimum of four options fitting his description, and all of them looked both breakable and expensive. You blinked down at the sound board, then back up at him, dumbfounded. “I think you made a mistake letting me in here.” 

Again, with the laugh – knocking you prone, nudging you closer to an early grave. Somehow, out of all of time and space, you got to exist in the same lifetime that he did. How lucky you were to have him, and his wind chime laugh all to yourself.  

You were lovesick and it was chronic. 

“Look down at your left hand – no, baby, don’t move it – that knob above your middle finger?” He was standing on tiptoe inside the booth, gesturing as if he was landing a plane. Your eyes darted up to follow the path of his fingers, then back down to the board. “Go diagonally up from that knob for two rows. Do you -” 

Overcome with a sense of unearned pride, you pressed down on the button, beaming. You certainly had not been signaled, but nonetheless, your efforts were rewarded. Importantly, that reward was now recorded for prosperity. Your favorite mixtape, the soundtrack of your racing heart, a lullaby: “I really couldn’t love you more if I tried.” 

His wide smile, like his tone, was sweet enough to cause a cavity. You were folded up like a pretzel in his chair, but somehow, your knees still seemed to wobble.  

You were lovesick and it was terminal. 

“Should I shut it off now until you’re ready to start?” You asked with cheeks glowing pink. 

He shook his head, still grinning. “I can cut it down. I do need you to cue the track, though – when I signal you.” He stated the last bit of his sentence slowly, shooting you a pointed look and then a wink. 

You were once lovesick and now you are dead. 

Finger hovering over the ‘play’ button, you watched him wide-eyed, anxious to avoid another mishap. His faith in you may have been unshakeable, but yours wasn’t – and this third mixtape was his magnum opus. You’d rather explode into a cloud of dust than mess up the tireless work he’d put into it so far.  

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, centering himself. Without looking, he raised his hand and pointed silently to you. Within seconds, your mind was blown. 

Min Yoongi contained multitudes. Despite your years together, it never ceased to amaze you how your beloved introvert – who said more with actions than anyone could communicate with words – could transform the way he did. Moments ago, his voice was a blanket, fresh out of the dryer, but now? Now, his presence electrified you. There was an unapologetic confidence – callousness, even - that you only saw when he rapped. 

Even his body language changed, like he’d evolved right before your eyes. You couldn’t look away because there was nothing else worth looking at – just him, top to bottom. The way he held his head, lips nearly touching the microphone, highlighted the deadly curve of his jaw. Carved from marble, luminescent and sharp. The strain of his neck, vibration visible in the column of his throat as he growled out his bars. Then down, down, down to his hands. His rings caught the light from above him, refracting slivers of white as his fingers moved with the beat.  

Oh, how you wanted them wrapped around your throat. 

Seeing him like this had you spellbound – feral, if you were being honest. As you watched, bottom lip clamped hard between your teeth, a heatwave crashed over you; it burned you from the inside out. Sometimes, you dreamt about this version of him. Your Yoongi adored you. He showered you with affection, respect, and praise. He’d never dream of hurting you. 

But would he, if you asked? 

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear him finish the take. 

“Aegiya?” There was a hint of concern in his voice that told you he’d called out to you more than once already. 

You swallowed hard and shifted in his chair. “Yes?” 

He slid his wireless headphones down until they rested around his neck. The bright red band leaned against his cheekbone as he tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Are you alright? You looked like you were in a trance.” 

He wasn’t wrong. You were hypnotized, and it was entirely his fault. 

When you merely hummed in response – too distracted by his features to form a coherent sentence – he opened the door to the booth and stepped out. He pulled the headphones off completely and set them down on the counter before walking straight to you. 

You were vibrating. Could he feel it? 

The trembling only intensified when he reached you. Looking down at you, he ran the pad of his thumb over your cheek. 

“Tell me.” He said, as if that brief touch informed him of the maelstrom spinning circles in your brain. “Something’s got you dizzy.” 

Psychic. 

Suddenly, you were shy. This man knew and loved every single aspect of you, and still you felt embarrassed. If you begged him to fuck you – not just make love to you – would he laugh at you? Even worse, would he be offended? You didn’t want him to think that what you had wasn’t already perfect because it was.  

His eyes scanned your face, narrowing just slightly as he tried to read your mind. The two of you were silent for what felt like hours before you saw it – his pupils dilating, offset by the spark of silent understanding. The corner of his mouth twitched when he cracked the secret code. The hand caressing your cheek lowered slowly until it came to rest on your throat, thumb harshly directing your jaw – and your gaze - upwards. 

“Is it me, baby?” He teased with a voice like velvet, cocking his head to the side with a smirk that left you stupid. “Have I got you dizzy?” 

Involuntarily, you whimpered. So stunned by his stare that you were speechless. Melting into a puddle. Dripping. 

He exhaled sharply through his nose – a cruel, quiet laugh - and his eyes darkened further. “I can’t give you what you want if you can’t tell me what that is.” 

Once again, you shifted in your seat. You were suddenly so painfully aware of every nerve in your body, each one tingling like a live wire. Even your thighs clenched, trying desperately to apply pressure where you needed it most. You craved him so badly that it ached. 

“I don’t want you to be gentle with me,” was your answer, though it sounded more like a question. “I - I know that you -” 

His hand shifted quickly from underneath your jaw. He now had your cheeks pinned between his thumb and middle finger, squeezing hard to cut off your sentence before you could finish it. There was a microscopic pause as his eyes searched yours for permission. You blinked and nodded to the fullest extent you could within his grasp. 

“Stupid girl. You know nothing.” 

Muffled by his hand, your weak moan was barely audible, but he could feel the way your breathing quickened. The rise and fall of your eager chest. The way your nipples, yet untouched, made themselves known through the fabric of the t-shirt you’d stolen from him. Draped in him but smelling like you.  

Blackcurrant, orange blossoms, vanilla. 

He leaned down, mouth now hovering beside your ear. The heat of his breath on your neck was maddening, but it was the way his lips brushed against your ear that proved fatal. When he spoke, it echoed in every one of your bones. A whisper heavy enough to bruise. “Get up.” 

You followed the lead of his hand over your mouth and rose to your feet. Sharply, he redirected your gaze to the seat you’d just left. It was inexplicable how something so faint could be so blatant. That nearly imperceptible spot, snitching on you; showing him how your body begged for him. 

“Such a messy girl, ruining my chair like that.” He tutted. “I should punish you, shouldn’t I? Should I ruin you, baby?” 

Held so still, your knees still trembled. Without his hand gripping your cheeks, you would’ve crumpled at his feet. Before you could do so yourself, he forced you downward. After all, your knees couldn’t buckle if they were digging into the hardwood. 

He released his grasp and used that same hand to push his hair away from his eyes. Your heart raced as if you were sprinting, and yet you were frozen in place. You didn’t know where to begin because you wanted everything.  

Your indecision prompted him to roll his eyes. “Do I have to do everything for you? Say it. What do you want?” 

“T-to touch you. Please,” you begged, “I want to feel you in my throat.” 

He beckoned you silently with a curl of his finger. You sat up further on your knees and reached out tentatively for the drawstring tied at the waistband of his joggers. 

“Stop.” He ordered, and you did. Looking down at your wide eyes, his smirk deepened. Your hands fidgeted uselessly in your lap as he began untying the drawstring himself – his slow pace was torturous. You'd have ripped them off his body if given the chance. “Open your mouth” 

Again, you did as you were told. 

It took everything you had not to drool when he lowered the waistband of his joggers just enough for his cock to spring out. Already throbbing, pink tip glistening with pre-cum in the half-light. He took himself in his hand and began to pump himself as he took a step towards your waiting mouth.

"Stick out your tongue."

Now, you couldn’t help it – and when he saw the string of saliva spilling from the tip of your tongue, he growled. 

“Fuck,” He breathed, sliding the fingers of his free hand into your hair and tugging. “Look at how badly you want to be used - you're begging without saying a word.” 

You couldn’t speak, but your eyes were screaming at him. Please. 

Teasingly, he tapped the tip of his cock against your tongue, hissing as he felt the wet heat of your mouth. But when you went to close your lips around him, he pulled your hair – and you – away. 

“Spit on it – slowly. Keep your eyes on me.” 

You felt a twinge between your thighs as he delivered his orders. You’d undoubtedly soaked through your little sleep shorts already, but his tone just then made a mess of you. You squirmed as you kneeled, feeling the rivulets of slick begin to trail down the innermost part of your thighs. And he hadn’t even touched you yet. 

Looking up at him from under the curtain of your lashes, you saw the wicked fascination flicker in his eyes. The way his breath hitched as he watched your spit fall from the ledge of your lips until it connected with his shaft. In your peripheral vision, you could see his cock twitch at the contact. 

“Now open.” Finally. 

A low moan broke from the depths of his chest as he slid into your mouth, and you couldn’t recall a more beautiful sound. As you pushed yourself further onto him, you hallowed your cheeks, following the vein running along the underside of his length with your tongue. 

You stared up at him through wet eyes. So full, you pleaded with yourself not to gag, to breathe steadily through your nose. Tip pushing past your soft palate, he grunted as he bottomed out. Without softening his gaze, he watched for your reaction – always so concerned, even when he was pretending not to be. To his surprise, you swallowed, allowing the tightness of your throat to squeeze him.

“You’re fucking filthy.” He muttered with his eyes screwing shut. His jaw fell open when you slid off him, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock once you reached it. His eyes followed suit, blown out pupils fixated on the spit dribbling down your chin; darkening at the obscene sound of him sliding through the suction you'd so masterfully generated. 

Pulling your hand from your lap, you reached out slowly for his balls. As your fingers massaged him, his grip on your hair got tighter. Almost imperceptibly, he began to roll his hips against your mouth. 

His panting was interlaced with curses as he fucked himself into your warmth. “Fit so fucking perfectly in your throat,” He grunted, “Like you were made to be my toy.” 

It startled you when he suddenly removed himself from you. Thoughtlessly, you whined – and then, immediately, you froze. Eyes darting back up to him, the anticipation of consequences prevented you from closing your mouth fully. You waited there on your knees, trembling, while your mascara pooled uselessly in the wells beneath your eyes. 

“Somebody feels entitled,” He scoffed as he glowered down at you. “You better be careful what you wish for.” 

Before you could process the speed of his movements, his arms hooked under yours and pulled you from the ground. Your legs ached, but as he loomed over you, you followed his unspoken order, backing yourself into a corner. With your shoulder blades pressed flush against the wall, he stepped forward and used his knee to push your legs apart. 

For a moment, it seemed like his façade was cast aside. He raised his hand slowly to caress your cheek, swirling soft circles into your flushed skin with his thumb. Out of habit, your eyes drifted shut and you leaned further into his touch. And when he leaned in, just as slowly, your slightly parted lips waited for a kiss that never came. 

“You’re just begging to be filled, aren’t you?” He asked in a whisper so sharp it stung. “Not loved but fucked.” 

You nodded shyly. “Y-yes,” You stuttered, “Please.” 

His lips still lingered closely enough to touch yours, to send shockwaves shooting down your spine, but he continued to withhold his affection. This was the first time – ever – that Yoongi had turned down an opportunity to kiss you. Until now, he didn't seem capable of doing so. 

“Please what?” 

“Fuck me. Please -” You keened as his hand began to drift from your cheek, down your neck. In the blink of an eye, every word you knew disappeared from your vocabulary. The tip of his index finger trailed down over the fabric of your stolen shirt, between the valley of your breasts, and came to rest at the hem.  

He pinched the seam between his fingers and tugged. “Part of me wants to tear this off you,” He mused with his head tilting to one side. His eyes remained locked on yours; the amusement in them was clear, even in the darkness. “But most of me wants to see you fucked out and stupid - in my shirt.” 

Your legs threatened to give out yet again. He was devastatingly handsome under normal circumstances, but this newly unearthed cockiness was ruinous. You bit down hard on your lip as he raised your shirt enough to access the waistband of your shorts. With his help, you shimmied them down until they dropped quietly at your feet. Quickly and clumsily, you stepped out of them and kicked them aside. 

Yoongi’s hand rose again to your face. His middle and ring finger were extended; the others curled down towards his palm. You didn’t need to be asked to open your mouth – it was the only response your eager mind could conjure. His fingers were cool against your tongue as you closed your mouth around them. And when he was satisfied with the lubrication you’d provided, he slid his fingers out from your hollowed cheeks with a lewd pop. 

“How badly do you want to come all over my fingers?”  

It’s a wonder there wasn’t a puddle beneath you, considering how those words made you gush. “I need it,” You pleaded with fluttering eyelids and bated breath, “Please touch me.” 

You whimpered and closed your eyes as you felt his fingers dive into the pool between your thighs. Every nerve lit up like a switchboard as he slipped through your soft folds. He scoffed at how wet you were – so soaked that it was audible in each millimeter of his movement. 

Simultaneous to his middle finger penetrating you, your head rolled back until it rested against the wall. Your mouth fell open, but you were too entranced to do much more than breathe as you acclimated to his presence inside you. He started slowly, curling his finger upwards as he pushed further inwards. Even at this pace, the otherwise dead air was filled with the sound of your sodden cunt. 

“You’re dripping already?" He let the tip of his finger rest against the spongy spot behind your pubic bone; the pressure was incredible, but he stayed torturously still. “And yet you’re so - tight.” Achingly slow, the pad of his finger spiraled against your g-spot. “I’ll have to stretch you out before I can bury my cock in you.” 

As his ring finger plunged inside of you, you cried out, head slumping forward against his shoulder. Sensing that you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up for much longer, Yoongi grabbed the back of your right thigh with his left hand and pulled your leg up to rest against his hip. With this new angle, his fingers ventured even deeper until they bottomed out at the knuckle. He didn’t give you much time to adjust to the new sensation.  

As he fucked his fingers into you at a feverish pace, he continued his mind-numbing assault on your g-spot. Over and over, he toyed with you; thrusting, stretching, scissoring, and teasing as your arousal trickled into the palm of his hand. There was an intoxicating – unbearable – warmth burning in the pit of your abdomen. A sensation so all-consuming that your eyes rolled back in your head. 

Your walls clenched around him, sucking him in and begging for more as your helpless heart raced. “Oh my god,” You wailed, “Holy shit – Please, I’m - Yoongi!” 

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Never in your life had you fallen apart like that – shaking and speaking in tongues. Having sensed the swell of pressure, Yoongi knew exactly where this road headed; and he could tell that you were fighting it. “Don't hold back from me,” He growled.

And then the dam broke.  

A wicked grin danced across his face as the wave of pleasure crashed onto the floor below you. “Fuck. Look at this.” He pointed downward and your bleary gaze followed. Remnants of your orgasm had splashed onto his joggers as well as the hardwood. “Nobody could ever make you come like I can. Say it.” 

The words bubbled out of your chest, half-way between a sob and a moan. “Nobody can make me come like you.”

You were a shivering, spilling mess; and your ears were still ringing from how intensely your every muscle had clenched. Before your knee could buckle, you were abruptly swept up into his arms. With one arm wrapped tightly around your back, his free hand slid over the surface of his desk, sending various papers and cords rocketing towards the floor.

Once the space was cleared, he set you down and laid you out onto the cool surface. You were exhausted and thankful to be horizontal; though you knew he wasn’t yet finished with you. 

After all, he intended on ruining you. 

Through half-lidded eyes, you gazed up at him. The hair he’d so neatly tied into a bun at the top of his head had mutinied; inky tendrils were now splayed out haphazardly in different directions. You were fuck-drunk, but you swore the overhead light behind him encircled his head like a halo. It was all so unholy - the way he stood before the altar of your exposed core, with his face angelic and his throbbing cock in hand.

The hand not pumping his cock slid over your bent knee. It took tremendous effort, but you lifted your arm to place your hand on top of his. One tiny squeeze – a brief, loving check-in – received an echo. Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the fleeting moment of tenderness was gone. With each of your legs now trapped in his hold, he pulled you towards the very edge of the table. 

Once he was satisfied with your closeness, his focus switched to his access. He simply wasn’t content to leave your legs bent up at either side of him; so, he rested the backs of your legs against his shoulders and leaned forward until you’d nearly folded in half. 

He didn’t need to use his hand to center himself prior to entering you. His body understood the proportions of yours automatically; like you were puzzle pieces created to fit perfectly together. Though his intention may have been to penetrate you slowly, centimeter by centimeter, your slick was overwhelming. The usual ache you felt upon acclimating to his size was drastically reduced; and he bottomed out quickly, cursing. 

The fullness you felt was euphoric, and it left you mewling hopelessly under the weight of his body. He was buried deep, throbbing as your walls constricted around his width. It shocked your system when he slid out almost completely only to drive himself back into you. 

“Like a fucking vice grip,” Yoongi hissed as he picked up his already brutal pace. Every curve, every vein dragged maddeningly along your walls as he fucked you. “Do you hear how wet you are? Shit – your pussy is begging for me.” 

The only thing louder than the squelch of your cunt was skin hitting skin; close behind was the way your name spilled from his lips in a flurry of expletives. You, on the other hand, were nearly incoherent. With every thrust, he knocked another thought loose until eventually, you had nothing left.  Relentlessly, his cock grinded against your g-spot, leaving you too mesmerized to recall your own name. 

There was a sheen of sweat above his knitted brows; and his bottom lip was now trapped between his gritted teeth. He was close and you knew it. The depth of his thrusts didn’t falter, but his steady pace was getting harder for him to maintain. You felt the rubber band inside you beginning to fray - on the brink of snapping and shooting you into orbit like a sling-shot. 

“Baby,” The soft, shaky voice caught his attention. He opened his eyes and focused hard on you – your flushed cheeks, and trembling lips. As he surveyed you, his resolve began to evaporate; his expression softened immediately. There he was: your Yoongi. “You’re gonna make me come again.” 

As your walls clenched tight around him, the edges of your vision began to blur. You watched his face as he came shortly after you, studying how delicately his eyelashes fluttered as the warmth of his release filled you. In that moment, it was the two of you, toppling in slow-motion off the edge of the universe. Irrevocably in love - heaving chests, shuttered moans, names whispered in the place of prayers. 

He shifted his arms to allow your quivering legs to fall from his shoulders. When the hands on either side of your head could no longer hold up his weight, he collapsed onto you. With his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, you could feel his breathing begin to slow as his cock softened inside you. 

You were nearly delirious when you felt his lips buzz against your skin. You were too far gone to understand what he was too exhausted to communicate. “Hmm?” You hummed, wordlessly asking him to repeat himself.

He groaned with the effort of pulling himself away from your embrace. He only traveled far enough to glance over at you. “I said, I think several of my past lives just flashed before my eyes,” He stated matter-of-factly. Within seconds, his eyes crinkled up at the corners and his grin grew. That soft chuckle wasn’t far behind. 

“I don’t know where I am.” You admitted with a sheepish laugh. After a moment, you amended that thought, “I don’t know who I am.” 

Yoongi placed a gentle kiss below your ear – the only part of you he could reach without sitting up fully. “I have no idea. How did you get in my house?” As you rolled your eyes, he bumped the tip of his nose against your jaw, too tired to tease you much more than that. “But now that we’re both completely spent, I’d like to go back to being soft with you – for now.” 

He tried to wink at you, but both of his lead-lined lids closed in unison.  You hummed thoughtfully as you ran lazy fingers through his hair, like the decision required serious deliberation. You paused, then giggled.  “Permission granted, my love. You may proceed.”

He was quiet for several moments before he stood bolt upright. Startled, you propped yourself up on your elbow and looked to him. He turned towards the booth and then back to you.

His eyes were wide as a blush swept over his cheeks. "Aegiya, did you forget to stop the recording?"

Sequel (posted 12/11/22).

[piedpiperslists]

JJK: Gang / Mafia AU

List of all Jungkook fics under 'Gang / Mafia' AU:

* s - contains smut

* Last updated: 11/02/2024

D R A B B L E S

“Are you wearing my shirt?” by taleasnewastime s mafia au

Crime & Punishment by bangtaninink s ft KSJ, mafia au, PWP Summary: You’re supposed to kill five people per month, as per Seokjin and Jungkook’s request. You’ve only killed two. Somebody’s in trouble.

Forreal Love by illneverrecover established relationship, gang au Summary: “We really need to stop race-walking everywhere”

Lilies by dewykth bad boy!Jungkook, drug dealer au Summary: … white lines, pretty baby, tattoos, don’t know what they mean, they’re special just for you…

Mafia Leader!Kook by jksangelic s established relationship, mafia au, PWP Summary: The love of your life comes home after months of being missing.

Protective JK by taleasnewastime established relationship, mafia au

Rain by ichorai established relationship, mafia au Summary: Running away from problems never fixed anything, did they?

Soft Mafia AU by taleasnewastime established relationship, mafia au

The Carrier by yminie gang member!Jungkook, nurse!reader Summary: A chance encounter with gang member Jungkook.

The one with Jungkook and the sharpshooter by eoieopda enemies to lovers Summary: You didn’t plan this far ahead. You should have.

O N E S H O T S

Arrow to the Heart by kidguk s wc~7.8k / gang au, neighbors au Summary: Jeon Jungkook doesn’t understand what the fuss is about the rival gang’s sniper. She’s a perfect marksman, they say, yet every time he has faced her he’s gotten away - quite easily too. Is he just that good? Maybe. Is the real reason, unbeknownst to him, that he also happens to be kind of (it’s complicated) dating her? One hundred percent.

Concealed Weapon by gimmesumsuga s wc~10.6k / established relationship, mafia au, PWP Summary: Jungkook turns out not to be quite who you thought he was, and your reaction takes you both by surprise.

Flame on Water by btsmosphere wc~5.2k / assassin!Jungkook, bodyguard!reader, enemies to lovers, mafia au Summary: Either you win or he does. Either you get paid or he does. Either the target winds up alive or dead. Jungkook’s job becomes a little more difficult any time you are around.

My Beauty, My Blood by 7cypher wc~20k / single mom!reader, mafia au Summary: With Namjoon out of the picture, Jeongguk has to step up and be the sole successor to the organization laid out before him. However, guilt doesn’t escape him very easily, and neither does your persistence.

* Night Crawlers by alphabetboyluvr s wc~26k / drug runner!Jungkook, sugar baby!reader, college au Summary: Jungkook’s always been good at running. Track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. Drugs, now, too.  But he doesn’t expect to run into you.  In your shared lecture halls, sure. Maybe. But not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning.  There are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. You aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. He's sure of it.  So it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?

Rubies are Red by btsmosphere wc~3k / enemies to lovers, mafia au Summary: Close enough to touch, far enough never to dare. But Jungkook knows you well enough to know something isn’t right. And that locket the new player is wearing? Isn’t his. Will this be what it takes to break the distance you keep with Jungkook?

Something Borrowed by alphabetboyluvr s wc~2.8k / angst, forbidden love, infidelity, mafia au

Sparrow by justanotherstarlightmonger s wc~6.2k / assassin!reader, escort!reader, mafia au Summary: Trained to kill, and a mistress to lust. Those were the two aspects of your life that were most prominent. No one saw the third part coming. Jeon Jungkook's sparrow.

Take Me to Church by illneverrecover s wc~5.1k / established relationship, gang au Summary: You can always tell when something is bothering your boyfriend, despite how hard he tries to hide it - and you have creative ways to get him to talk.

This Isn’t Love, Darling by junqkook s wc~5.3k / angst, escort au, mafia au Summary: He tasted of an empty night and an eclipsing moon, with blood on his hands and fire in his eyes when he put his mouth on yours.

Waste It on Me by byeoltoyuki wc~21k / strangers to lovers, gang au Summary: Being a journalist, you were familiar with the concept of taking risks and pushing your limits to get the best story. But when a gangster by the name of Jungkook tries to involve himself in your quiet, safe personal life, you are forced to reconsider the limits of your comfort zone, your boundaries, your morals and even your feelings.

Waste It on Me by byeoltoyuki established relationship, gang au Summary: When you’re mad at Jungkook for not taking care of himself.

Young Spy by jeonstudios wc~11.6k / spy!Jungkook, mafia au Summary: Three down, many to go as bad men are meeting their deaths tonight. The brown-haired one, who’s next in line, has given up his fight. Will you make it in time?

T W O S H O T S / S E R I E S

Blackjack by kpopfanfictrash s mafia au Summary: Bangtan is one of the most vicious mafias on the west coast. Only six members are known by name though, with a mysterious seventh member dubbed only as ‘the shadow.’ When you become indebted to the worst of the worst – how, exactly can you find a way out?

Crimson Park by heartbeatan s bookkeeper!reader, mafia au Summary: A thematic, mobster several-part series.

Sketchy by hamsterclaw s mechanic!Jungkook, gangster!Taehyung, gang au Summary: Jungkook and you left your past lives, together. Your ex-boyfriend wants your help, and he's pulling you back in to the life you left behind. Featuring Taehyung.

Stockholm Syndrome by taleasnewastime s strangers to lovers, gang au Summary: You’d tried so hard to run away from your troubled childhood. Now in your final year at university you’re starting to feel like maybe what’s in your past will stay there. Then a beautiful stranger shows up and befriends you, but not everything about him is as it seems.

[dntaewithluv]

💛🌼🌼💛 send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome 💖✨💖✨

Jackie you're an angel truly 😭😭 You have such a kind heart and you really just care for people so deeply and openly and I'm so glad I'm lucky enough to know you 🥺❤️

[minisugakoobies]

Ahhhh, Jackie, thank you!! I'm glad you liked the dialogue, I always want it to feel real but still be snappy (and eventually dirty). And it was fun writing in Chan's voice, literally, because I heard his dialogue in his accent. I'm happy that I was able to capture him here! 💕

Confessions of a Dirty Mind | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: smut, and they were roommates!, porn with the barest of plots, a little fluff Rating: M (18+) Warnings: incredibly thirsty pining, reader’s a bit feral for her roommate, the giggles will be deployed as a weapon, reader drops the d word (daddy) in her dirty thoughts but never says it out loud, accidental texts, body worship (abs, thighs, breasts - everything gets praised), love bites/marking, grinding, chan is thick everywhere, chan throws reader around a little, hints at dom!chan, fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), facefucking, cum eating, reader is kind of an idiot but that's okay!, I wrote this out of a dire need to s this man’s d Word Count: 6.5K Disclaimers: NSFW; obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: The absolute last thing you want is for your roommate to find out just how much you want him. Right?

A/N: Well, as threatened promised, I'm writing for Stray Kids now in addition to BTS! This came out of absolutely nowhere last week. I've just got Bang Chan brainrot 24/7 now, so that's cool. Thanks to @minttangerines @bangtanintotheroom @sugalaritae for their support (and amazing Aussie accents!!) 💕

Unbeta'd as usual. Please let me know what you think! Like if you'd like to see more skz fics from me… that would fuel me to keep writing. If everyone hates this I'm quitting writing and moving to the wild to live with the koalas ✌️

Being roommates with your crush is its own special type of torture. Always being so close to what you want but never being able to touch. To taste. To feel. 

You weren’t always this feral. Once upon a time, you were normal. Well-adjusted, even. Then you had to move for your job and needed to find a place to stay fast and your best friend Minho just happened to know someone looking for a roommate. 

Honestly, looking back, it was too easy. Should’ve known there’d be a catch. And that catch was your sanity. 

Because Minho’s friend Bang Chan turned out to be the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life. 

Listen. A lot of people use phrases like that all the time, “the hottest man you’ve ever seen,”  some hyperbole they say for ridiculous effect, but you mean it. You have never seen anyone as beautiful as this man, with his chiseled cheekbones, thick lips, and those dimples. 

Fuck. Those dimples. Almost as maddening as the washboard abs he’s constantly showing off. You didn’t know a person could be allergic to shirts until you met Chan. 

And now you’re suffering. Every. Damn. Day. 

It’s not just that he’s the most gorgeous man on the planet. No, that would be hurtful enough, but he’s also kind. Smart. Silly as hell. You’re constantly plagued by his sweet smiles and unbelievably adorable giggles. 

The worst part, though, is the way he can flip between sexy and soft instantaneously. Like when the two of you argue over something stupid. All of your arguments are fundamentally stupid. The two of you get on so fucking well, the only things you argue over are opinions on pointless things. Like last night, when you’d joined him for a beer while he watched tv. 

“You’re out of your mind,” Chan had declared, twisting sideways on the couch to look at you. “There’s no way a koala could possibly defeat a kangaroo in a cage match!”

“Sure it could.” 

“No, it could not!” Chan let loose a flurry of high-pitched giggles. “Have you ever seen a kangaroo? Those things are ripped! One kick or punch, and the koala’s out.” He mimed a powerful punch.

You tipped back the remainder of your beer before pointing the bottle at him. “Yes it could! Think about it - what do koalas do?” When he just blinked, you continued. “They climb! And what do koalas usually have?” Again, a blank stare. “Syphilis! So… think about it! All that little guy has to do is climb up the kangaroo, give him some germs, and boom! Kangaroo goes down.” You grin smugly. “There’s a reason they call syphilis the silent killer.” 

Chan fixed you with his signature Look™, the one you think of as “stern dom daddy” - thick eyebrows drawn, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, dark eyes scanning your face - and you felt your knees go weak. Then he blinded you with the full sunshiny force of his smile, eyes closing, dimples popping. 

“That is an absolutely insane argument, not to mention completely incorrect. I don’t even know where to start explaining why you’re wrong.” He paused. “No, actually, let’s start with the fact that it’s chlamydia, not syphilis, that koalas get, and go from there.” By the time he’d finished  and you’d finally conceded that a kangaroo would probably win, the two of you were nearly in tears from laughing.

His duality is whiplash-inducing. And always leaves you in ruins. 

So when your feelings overwhelm you, when you feel like you’re absolutely bursting at the seams with need, you do what you always do. Torture Minho. 

Your bff is used to you venting to him about your crippling inability to make a move. On anyone. Ever. Over the years, he’s weathered dozens of crushes that never went anywhere because while you’re definitely a total treasure, you lack the confidence to make any of your (usually horny) dreams come true. He’s come to expect the endless text messages you send. 

Except that now, “messages” might not be the right word for them. “Unhinged ravings” might be more accurate. 

Ughhhh he’s so damn fine Today he came home from the gym all sweaty and I nearly offered to give him a bath With my tongue. My TONGUE Minho!

Like he’s always done, Minho bears it all in stride with his usual unwavering compassion.

You’re a lunatic

He doesn’t even try to convince you to say something to Chan about your feelings anymore. Now he just waits for you to exhaust yourself and then he changes the subject. Usually by sending photos of his cats. 

It’s an odd friendship, but neither of you would trade it for anything. 

At the moment, you’re ignoring your pain by lying on your bed, in a tee and sweats, watching a movie on your laptop. You can hear your roommate rummaging around his room. Your apartment features a Jack and Jill bathroom, so it’s easy for you to hear what’s going on next door through the adjoining space.

“Channie, why are you pacing around?” you call out. 

Your phone buzzes. 

Trying to find my shirt  

“Are you seriously texting me from the next room?” Pausing your movie, you trudge through the bathroom. The door to Chan’s room is open so you don’t bother to knock, flopping down on his bed as he digs through his closet. He’s shirtless as usual, blond curls shaking with the force of his rummaging.

“Yeah, sorry, ‘m in a hurry and didn’t want to stop looking,” Chan admits sheepishly, throwing a grin over his shoulder at you. You ignore the fluttering in your stomach and get comfortable, resting your head on your arms.

“You could’ve just said it out loud. I can hear you all over this apartment.” It’s not a big space. Which only amplifies your angst, as it’s hard to escape from your desires when the source of it is just constantly right there. Sprawling out on the tiny couch in the living room. Making himself a midnight snack in the kitchen. Lounging on your bed while you sit at your desk, trying not to stare at his reflection on your screen. “What shirt are you looking for?” 

“My tiger tank.” 

You know the shirt he’s speaking of - his white tank top with an embroidered tiger’s head on the chest. It’s a favorite of yours, cut low enough on the sides and in the front to show off his biceps and pecs at the same time. The first time you’d seen Chan in it, Minho had accused you of being a vampire because you couldn’t stop talking about how much you wanted to nibble on his collarbones. 

“Ah! Found it!” Chan raises the shirt over his head victoriously before yanking it on. He takes a moment to inspect himself in his mirror and you wonder if he truly recognizes just how stunning he is. He catches your eye in the reflection. “What are you up to tonight? Wanna come out with me, ‘Lix, & ‘Bin? We’re gonna get some drinks.”

Sure, you’d love to hang out at the bar with Chan and his friends. They’re always a good time. Except when closing time arrives and once again you’re forced to bear witness to your roommate getting hit on by basically every woman in the bar. Not that you can blame them. But it’s especially awful on the nights when he leaves with someone else. You’d rather not deal with that tonight.

“Nah, I’m just gonna relax. But thanks.” 

“Come on,” he wheedles, plopping down on the bed, hard enough to make you bounce a little. “You haven’t been out with us in ages. Is it the guys? Did one of them say something stupid?” 

“They always say stupid shit. That’s all they ever say,” you crack, smiling when Chan laughs. “But no, it’s nothing like that. I’m just tired.” 

Chan doesn’t say anything, just looks at you for a moment. The silence makes you inexplicably nervous, and you fiddle with his comforter for want of something to do with your hands. But then he just nods. “‘Kay. But if you change your mind, we’ll be down at Back Door.” 

“Thanks.” 

Chan heads into the bathroom to play with his hair. You slip past him, back into your room, throwing yourself dramatically onto your bed and burying your face in a plush pillow. How much longer can you stand this? 

You grab your phone. 

I’m losing my mind

You can practically hear the sigh in Minho’s voice as you read his response. 

What did Chan do now?

He’s getting ready to go out with Felix and Changbin He looks so fucking good in those tight jeans

Minho doesn’t reply. He knows to just let you get it out of your system before responding.

My mouth is literally watering It’s a Pavlovian response at this point I see denim and I start salivating

A text alert pops up in the middle of your thirsty ranting. 

Hey do you mind if I borrow your eyeliner?

“Stop texting me when you’re 10 feet away!” you yell, laughing. Chan pops his head out of the bathroom and flashes you that grin, the one that turns your insides to goo, and you sigh. “Of course you can borrow it, you know you can.” 

Thanks

“Chan!” 

His giggles float through the door and your thumbs fly.

Seriously If Chan doesn’t let me s his d one of these days I will die I will be the first person to die from ineedtosuckadick-itis

There’s a loud clattering in the bathroom, like someone’s knocked half the contents of the crowded sink counter onto the floor. Your makeup isn't cheap, so you hop up off your bed. 

“You okay in there?” The first thing you notice is the pile of smashed cosmetics on the ground. The second thing is the way your roommate is staring at you, eyes wide, sharpened kohl liner still clutched in one hand, phone in the other. “What? What’s wrong?” 

Chan doesn’t speak, but raises his phone and kind of waves it limply. 

Oh god. You were in the wrong chat. You were in the wrong chat and now Chan knows you want to suck his dick. You’ve been texting for most of your life and this is the moment your brain decides to fuck up?!

As Chan continues to stare, you realize you have two choices: fess up and own it, or play dumb.

It’s no choice.

“What, uhhhhhhh, what’s up?” 

Chan gestures to his phone. “You want to suck my dick?” He says the words as if they’re unfamiliar to him, like he’s trying them out for the first time. 

Well, shit, how are you supposed to play dumb if he’s just going to call you right out? 

“Guess the cat’s out of the horny bag now,” you mutter under your breath.

Chan cocks his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” you cough, looking at your own phone. “I mean, uh, noooo, what? Minho and I were just, um, talking about how I want to, uh, sssssss…” you glance wildly around the cramped room, hissing like a frantic snake as you fail to come up with another word that starts with s, before your eyes land on an empty glass sitting by the sink. “…Share a drink with you? Because I’m… thirsty?”

“You’re thirsty?”

Fucking understatement.

You can’t quite read the expression on Chan’s face as he glances between you and his phone. There’s a flash of dom daddy in there and then it’s gone. 

“YN. I know what ‘s his d’ means. Also, you said you had - what did you call it? Ineedtosuckadickitis.” You think Chan’s lips quirk slightly as he reminds you of your textual idiocy, but you’re too busy trying to psychically rip a hole in the floor so you can disappear forever to be certain. “Where do you get your medical info, by the way? I’m starting to worry.” 

He’s making light of the situation, which you would appreciate more if you weren’t sure you’re about to die from embarrassment. Your mind is reeling. There’s no way to get out of this. Any second now, he’s gonna realize how you feel. Then he’s gonna let you down. Gently, you hope. Then you’re gonna need to find a new place to live, because there’s no recovering from this.

“Fine.” You take a deep breath. “Yes, I said it.” Unable to look him in the eye, you focus on your phone as you speak. “I was telling Minho how much I want to suck your dick, because I’m a disgusting horny monster who can’t stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go pack up my room now.” Shoulders slumping, you slink away, hoping he won’t follow. 

He does. “Wait, what?” 

You don’t answer, heading directly for your closet, tugging at your suitcase where it lies on a shelf, and he crowds into your space, arms reaching out to stop you. 

“Oi, slow down! What are you doing?” 

“I’ll try to be out quickly, so you can find a new roommate right away.” You keep pulling on the suitcase, but it’s futile. He barely has to exert any strength to push it back, so you give up. 

“YN.” Chan places his hands on your shoulders, turning you around. It’s probably the closest you’ve ever been, standing face to face like this, and the nearness of him is a little dizzying. “Back up. You don’t have to go anywhere. Just talk to me.” He lightly guides you over to your bed, taking a seat next to you. “Why do you think I’d want you to leave?” 

“Because I'm a gross little gremlin who can’t stop objectifying you?” you answer honestly. 

Chan’s eyes widen before he bursts into laughter. “You know, you’ve said a lot of bonkers things in the months you’ve been living here, but… how does wanting to suck my dick make you a ‘gross little gremlin?’” 

Oh no. You can feel it bubbling up inside you, all the things you’ve felt. All the things you’ve said. Oh, you’re going to tell him, aren’t you? 

“It’s not just sucking your dick.” Grabbing your phone, you open your chat with Minho again, and begin to read. “‘I need Chan to destroy me. Fully. Like I’m a piece of wood and he’s a lumberjack. Just split me in half. With his hands or his dick, I’m not picky.’” Your entire body radiates with humiliation. You’re a tiny sun made of molecules of mortification, on the verge of going supernova. “Um. That’s one example. And there’s more. A lot more.” 

And then you hand him your phone, looking away as he starts to scroll. 

You stare at the wall, not wanting to see the expression on his face. Until the quiet gets to you, and you give in, peering at him, expecting to find him frozen again, or worse, looking sickened by your words. 

Instead you find him smiling. And then he starts to giggle. 

“‘I’m going feral,” he reads. “‘He’s wearing that beanie again. I- ’” His laughing gets louder as he struggles to finish the thought. “‘I want him to wear me instead.’” He glances up at you, eyes glimmering with way too much amusement. “What does that even mean?!”

You groan, yanking your shirt up to cover your face. “Chan, stop!” He merely laughs harder. How can he be enjoying this? You’ve never known him to be cruel. “I get it, I’m awful, you don’t have to laugh!”

But he keeps chuckling, and then you feel his hands on your hips. Like a bewildered turtle, you poke your head out of your shirt, and he just smiles. 

“C’mere.” He keeps tugging at you until you scoot closer, swinging your legs over his lap, and pulls you in for a hug. 

It’s better than you ever imagined. His strong arms lock around your waist, keeping you in place as his chest continues to rumble with his apparently endless mirth. Tentatively, you let your hands rest on his broad shoulders, afraid that if you cling too tightly, he’ll let go. 

Chan leans back to grin at you. “You’re so fucking cute.” 

You’re so fucking confused. “I am?” 

“Yeah.” His fingers rub light circles into your lower back. The sensation is somehow both soothing and invigorating, sending sparks directly to the heat already simmering in your gut. “Just adorable.” 

You’re not adorable, you’re a dirty little freak whose mind is constantly churning out trash, but if that’s what he wants to believe, you’ll take it.  

“You’re not disturbed by all the things I’ve said?” 

“Disturbed? Nah. I’m used to the crazy shit you say.” He’s got a point. You do say a lot of crazy shit. Just not usually about him to him. “Besides, d’you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say something?” 

“About your dick??”

Chan tosses his head back, jostling you with his laughter. “No, you maniac, just something in general! Something to tell me that you like me.” When he meets your gaze again, you’re met with that Look™, and this time those sparks head straight for your cunt. “That you want me. Because…” 

He trails off, hands gripping your sides, shifting you. Until you feel it. Poking directly into your thigh. 

“Oh!”

“Yeah. Oh.” Chan licks his lips. When did his eyes get so dark? “Because I want you too, you absolute fruit loop. Took me a minute to get my bearings, wasn’t expecting you to confess it in a text like that, or with those exact words, but…” He smirks. “I’m good now.” 

His thumb traces your jawline before he cups your chin. The gentle touch sends shivers rippling through you. His eyes drop to your lips. 

“You good?” 

Funnily enough, somehow, you are. 

“Yeah. I’m good,” you whisper, tipping forward to close the space between you. 

Amazingly, despite the unyielding need to just yeet yourself onto him, you manage to hold back, simply leaning in to the kiss instead. Those plush lips that you’ve raved about feel unbelievable as they caress yours. So soft and tender, like the warmth spreading through you as he tightens his hold. Then he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, and you moan, loud and wanton, unable to control the sound, and he drops his hands to your hips again, gripping insistently. 

“C’mere,” he commands again, voice husky as his fingers hook into your sweats. “Come closer.” He exhales heavily. “Please.” 

Please? He has no idea how little he needs to beg right now. As if you’re not dying to get as close as you can! In the blink of an eye, you throw your leg over his, straddling him. His hands wrap around you again, like he can’t stand not having them on you for a second. You understand the feeling. 

You’re bolder now with your kisses, nipping and licking eagerly. A particularly sharp bite on his pouty lip makes him gasp in surprise, and you press your tongue into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut in sheer ecstasy when he sucks in response. The incessant throbbing of your clit is slightly relieved when Chan’s hips buck upwards, pushing his erection against you more firmly. He swallows your whines, breathes them back out in the form of his own groans.

The need for air eventually overwhelms you after a few minutes, and you begrudgingly tear yourself away from his face. 

“Aren’t you going to be late?” you pant, marveling at how red and swollen Chan’s lips are from kissing. The urge to dive back in before you’ve gotten enough oxygen into your system to keep from passing out is strong. “To meet the guys?”

“You really think I’m gonna leave now?” Chan huffs a laugh as he gazes at you from beneath lowered eyelids, looking as dazed as you feel, and you realize, shit, Minho’s right, you are a vampire, and you’re about to eat this man alive. “Fuck no. Besides, what kind of terrible roommate would I be if I left you at death’s door?” 

“If you - what?” 

More high-pitched giggles fill the room. How can he be so cute while actively grinding his cock against you like this? “Your disease. Remember? Ineedadickitis.” 

“I need to suck a dick,” you correct him.

“Oh, do you? Well, go on then.” He cracks up completely, bouncing you with the force of his laughter as you sit there dumbly for half a second before snapping to. 

“You’re so stupid, oh my god!” With a howl, you push him away. He goes easily, until he’s lying on his back on your bed, still cackling while he swats away your fake punches. “I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” His fingers lock around your wrists and with a gentle jerk you’re lying on top of him, your arms pinned between you. Before you can try to pretend that he’s wrong, try to mount yet another one of your dumb arguments, despite knowing full well that he's right, he kisses you again. 

As soon as he releases your hands, you tangle them in his hair. His hands trace down your back to grab the swell of your ass, crushing you flat against him, chest to chest. He suddenly breaks off the kiss.

“Are you not wearing a bra?” 

You shake your head and he groans, sitting up, taking you with him. His fingers curl in the hem of your top, twisting it upwards.

“Shirt off. Now.” His voice drops an octave and you shudder, quickly obeying his order. Then you grip his tank top.

“You too.” 

He reaches behind his head to peel the fabric off, tossing it on the floor. Then he lays back, propping himself up on his elbows as you openly gawk at his stomach. 

“Fuck.” He’s transfixed by your chest. 

“Jesus.” You’re mesmerized. From this close, you can see a faint trail of fine hair that runs down, cutting through the carved lines of his abs, like an arrow pointing to your desired destination. “Unreal.” 

“You can touch, if you’d like,” Chan grins up at you, obviously enjoying your reaction. 

You roll your eyes but do anyway, dragging your fingertips over his abs. His stomach twitches beneath your touch. Before you can get too far, he wiggles his hips, playfully jostling you out of your concentration.

“Can I touch, too?” 

“Jesus, yes, of course!” Grabbing his hands, you place one on each breast. “Touch me already!” 

He doesn’t waste any time, rolling your nipples between his fingers, waking the buds. You arch into him, his abs forgotten as he leans forward to take your left breast in his mouth. 

“Shit, Channie,” you whimper, combing his hair out of his face so you can watch him suckle away. He hums into you, swirling his tongue over your nipple, around and around, before dragging his tongue across to the other breast. 

“You like that, baby?” he asks, covering your chest with kisses. 

Baby? Did he really just call you baby? Is this really happening, or did you slip into one of your daydreams again? 

Nope, the hard dick rolling into the apex of your thighs as you grind down on him feels pretty real. You can’t help but moan, wondering what he looks like under those tight jeans. Is he as thick as you imagine? 

Wait, why are you still trying to imagine anything? He’s literally underneath you right now.

Your hand splays on his torso as you guide him onto his back again. Slowly, you lower yourself over him, and drag your mouth down his neck. Clearly, you’d interrupted his going out routine earlier, because he’s not wearing his normal cologne right now. Instead, the heady scent you inhale as you stick your nose into the hollow of his clavicles is pure Chan, musky and comforting. 

“Ah, that tickles!” he hisses. 

“Sorry.” You press a heavy kiss to his collarbone. “Is that better?” He nods, right before you sink your teeth in.

“Nnngh!” He lets out a throaty groan as you happily suck a love bite into his delicate skin. God, the noises this man makes! You want to record them and play them on a loop. 

You slip further down, dragging your fingernails over one of Chan’s nipples, watching his face for his reaction. A tiny “oh!” escapes him, and you repeat the motion, grinning when his back lifts off the bed. Sensitive. This is going to be fun. 

Chan raises his head when you start to kiss his abs, taking the time to lick along the ridges as you go, the salty tang of his sweat lingering on your lips. When your hands play with the skin above his waistband, he clears his throat. “You know, you don’t have to do this, just because of that text.” 

“Are you kidding me?” You pause with your fingers on the button of his fly. “You want me to stop now?” 

“I just don’t want you to think I expect anything.” Although his voice is a little shaky, like he’s trying to calm himself down, you hear the sincerity in his words. The sweetness. That warmth inside you roars into a flame. 

“Channie. I want this. Do you want this?” 

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Thank god,” you sigh, unzipping his fly.  He helps you peel off his tight jeans and you make quick work of his silk boxers beneath. Nudging his legs apart, you kneel between them 

For a moment just you stare at the sight in front of you. You were right. He’s thick. Maybe a little longer than most of the dicks you’ve been happy to be acquainted with, maybe not, but definitely thicker. 

You want to sit on him so bad. But first you want to please him, want to taste him. So much want. 

While you’re dicknotized, Chan stuffs your pillows under his head so he can have a better angle. You glance at his face and find him biting his lip, eyes looking a little desperate. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you. 

Might as well put him out of his misery. With a lick of your palm, you wrap your hand around him, and pump a few shallow strokes. He grunts at the sudden slickness, abdomen jumping slightly. 

“Ah, baby, just like that,” he says, eyes closing when you roll your thumb over the tip a few times. “Shit.” 

Your tongue darts out to follow, dipping around the head and back over, before you take it into your mouth. Just the tip, bobbing off, then a little more, then again. Each time you sink lower, he sighs. 

“Fuck, that feels so good. Keep going, take it all in.” 

Oh god, is he a talker? You’re already impossibly wet. You can’t possibly handle getting any more aroused. 

While your mouth is occupied, you lift your leg so you’re straddling one of Chan’s, resting a palm on his big thigh. You have obsessed over his thighs since the day you moved in. You refer to them as “the thunder from down under” in your texts to Minho. And here they are now, so strong and sturdy beneath you. Wild. 

Chan hisses when you deepthroat him, brushing your nose against his pelvis. Even though you pride yourself on your dick-sucking skills, you can’t help but choke slightly. More saliva floods into your mouth, and you swallow around him. 

“Oh, shit!” His hips rise up a little. You use both hands, one trying to hold him down by his hip while the other strokes in tandem with your mouth. There’s drool everywhere, and the sounds the wetness makes sounds lewd even for porn. “Baby, this mouth of yours! Feels better than I ever imagined.”

Air rushes into your lungs as you pull off, replacing your mouth with your other hand. “You thought about this?” He fantasized about you, too?

“Oh fuck yeah,” he growls. “All the time. Thought those pretty lips would look so good choking on me, and I was right.” He thrusts a little, rocking his dick up into your slippery grip. “Used to dream about fucking it.”

You moan so brokenly, he looks at you in concern. 

“Please,” you lick his darkened head almost frantically, “do it.” 

Chan studies you for a moment, brows knitting together, before he pushes your head down. 

“That’s it, go down for me,” he directs you, and you listen. “Just stay there. Let me do the work now.” 

He starts slowly, tilting his pelvis a little, fucking up into your waiting mouth. Then he cants his hips a little faster. His breathing gets heavier the harder he thrusts. Once he finds a steady rhythm, he lays his hand on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wants you. 

You squirm restlessly as Chan fucks your throat. Having your roommate use your mouth as a sex toy is incredibly hot. Finally, you slide your hand into your sweats to give yourself some relief. Your clit is engorged, practically beating like a heart between your fingers. You let out a pleased moan, vibrating down Chan’s cock. 

“Do that again, baby.” 

You’re not denying this man anything. Again and again, you make him curse as your hums resonate across his sensitive skin. He trembles a little, and it’s intoxicating to think that you might be breaking down this big, strong roommate of yours, reducing him to a quivering mess.

At the very least, it’s something to aim for. 

Chan praises you again. “God damn it, that’s good. Gonna make me cum with that pretty mouth.” 

You suck and swallow and moan and rub yourself, feeling Chan’s thigh flex beneath you, and it hits you what he said, that you’re about to get Chan off, you, so you reach out, raking your hand up the inside of his thigh until you find his balls, squeezing gently.

“I’m gonna cum, shit, ’m gonna cum,” he moans, words slurring together. “Where, baby?” 

You stop touching yourself so you can grip the hand of his that rests on your head. He gets the point, pace not slowing, and with a few more powerful pumps, and some stuttered exhalations, he fills your mouth. You take it all, swallowing noisily and gasping for breath once he pulls out. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

He laughs as he says it. Your shoulders shake as you half-laugh, half-wheeze, slumping over on Chan’s thigh.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Fuck yeah,” he grins. “And I’m guessing from the sounds you were making, you enjoyed that as well? Just maybe not quite as much as me?”

You shrug. “I got what I wanted.”  

“Yeah, okay, maybe, but I bet you’d like more, hmm?” Without waiting for a response, he swiftly flips you onto your back. Just hauls you right over like you’re made of feathers. A rash of ridiculously giddy giggles burst past your lips, but they die away when he crawls up your body, the power of his gaze pinning you in place, and drops hungry lips onto yours.

Immediately, you surge up into him, pressing as close as you can. Both of you are glistening with sweat, his hair sticking to his face and yours as he licks into your mouth, hot and wet. You’re drowning in him. It’s everything you ever wanted. How the fuck can you possibly want more? But you do, and this feeling makes itself known as you start to whimper needily.

Chan’s hand quickly locates your breast, tenderly cupping your flesh. “Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are? So pretty.”

You preen at his words, humming contentedly. Fuck. Do you have a praise kink, or is it just that Chan’s the one saying these words that is getting you more worked up? You roll your hips, seeking friction, and Chan’s hand slides downward until he reaches where you need him.

“Oh, baby, so wet,” he says, voice hushed, almost reverent. “Just dying to be touched, yeah? Let me help you.”

With sure movements, lithe fingers stroke along your lips, opening you up. Fingertips squeeze your clit, playing with the aching pearl, causing you to squeal, and you could die, having made such a sound, except you’ve clearly already died and gone to heaven.

Even as his hand rubs, his lips never leave yours. You thrash in his grip when he slides a finger inside you, finding your g-spot with surprising quickness and pressing the fuck out of it, and he still chases your mouth, covering your chin in kisses. Your legs kick out as he alternates between fondling your clit and stroking your walls, until he suddenly stops, pulling his fingers out so he can rid you of your sweats. 

“You still with me?” he asks, kneeling between your legs, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, sucking in air like a fish. You must be a mess, if your appearance matches how you feel. But you’re also excruciatingly aroused and frustrated, so close to coming that you’re ready to blow.

“Yes. I’m here, I’m good.” 

“Good.” The Look™️ is back. He grabs your legs and bends them, pushing your thighs into your torso. “Here. Be a good girl and hold these.”

Yes, daddy. You bite your tongue to keep from screaming the words, and grasp your legs behind your knees, pulling them to the side as much as you can, opening you up wide.

“Yes, Channie.”

He smiles at that, eyes so dark you can almost see yourself. “So good for me. Hold tight, baby.” 

He sticks out his tongue, eyebrows cocking as he dives down, tracing your folds lightly before flattening the pink muscle and dragging it heavily upwards. You keen as his hot mouth suctions onto your clit. He rolls your clit around with his tongue before flicking it in a quick motion, over and over. 

“Jesus!” You’re a live wire, muscles jolting and twitching. As he continues working over the tiny bundle of nerves, his fingers slip inside you again, two this time, scissoring you apart, making room for his tongue. 

You gasp as he plunges inside, tracing your inner walls. He’s so loud, the noises his mouth makes as he sucks and laps, and messy, too, slick dripping from his chin when he lifts his face, making sure you’re watching him. Of fucking course you’re watching him. There’s literally nothing else in the world you’d rather be looking at right now than Bang Chan, the hottest man in the galaxy, devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal. 

“Tastes so good,” he rasps, turning his face to press sloppy kisses to your inner thigh. “Think you can hold out a little longer? Let me enjoy, yeah?” 

At this point, you’re a fucking tinderbox, one spark and you’ll explode, but sure, why not let the man enjoy himself a little more? 

“O-okay,” you stutter weakly. “I’ll… try.” You bite your lip. “But maybe…” 

Chan brushes his lips over your slit. With a shaky hand, you let your left leg go so you can reach out, brushing some damp locks off his forehead, and he looks at you. 

“Maybe a little slower?” you ask. 

He smiles, nodding a little. “Got ya.” 

Instead of pulling your hand back, you thread your fingers into his hair, and he hums, burying his face again. Only now, his tongue rolls slowly over your cunt, languidly, each pass taking longer and longer. He still keeps the pressure up, makes sure he’s pushing just as firmly against your sensitive folds, still fucks his tongue into you just as deeply as he was before, but now his movements aren’t so frenzied. They feel purposeful, like he’s intent on savoring the moment. 

And you realize you should, too. So you barely blink as you observe everything he does - every kiss, every groan, every time his eyes close. You try to commit it all to memory, so you can relive this moment over and over again. In case this is it.

Chan keeps humming, not so much a melody as just wordless sounds, getting louder when your thighs start to squeeze a little. Your hand grips the roots of his hair, not so much guiding him as hanging on. Until he takes your clit in his mouth again, and you cry out, holding him in place. 

“Right there, Channie, please!” Your voice breaks as you beg him not to stop. He doesn’t let up, not even when you release your death grip on your right leg, letting it fall over his shoulder like the other one. You dig your fingers into the blanket beneath you, fisting the material. “Fuck, just like that!” 

Your hips rise off the bed as you start to hump his face, grinding harder and harder. Chan slides his fingers back into your already clenching hole and finds your g-spot again. You wail helplessly, mind already going, body not far behind, as your muscles start to contract, everything tightening - 

“Fuuuuck!” 

With a loud groan, you come all over Chan’s face. He keeps tonguing your clit through your orgasm, but has to use his hands to hold your thighs open so he doesn’t asphyxiate. You tug at his hair, riding out the waves of bliss on his mouth. 

When you finally relinquish your grasp on his head, he stops. He slides your legs from his arms, then sits back on his heels to examine his handiwork.

You’re a limp noodle. No bones. No muscles. Couldn’t move if you tried. Your climax completely wiped you out, leaving nothing behind. But you’re a very happy noodle, practically purring as you smile at the ceiling. 

Chan, on the other hand. Chan appears to be ready for the next round. A point made obvious by the massive erection he’s again sporting. You blink at him a few times. 

“I’m going to need a minute.”

He laughs, draping himself over you, arm slung over your stomach, head on your shoulder. “Nah mate, you’re done.” 

A rather petulant whine bubbles up from deep within you. “Nooo, I’m good, I’m good!” 

You try to reach for his dick, but he catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. Which is a surprisingly sweet move, but not what you want right now. It’s not that you don’t want to cuddle with him - if he asked, you’d wrap yourself like a blanket around him and snuggle him for hours.

It’s that you’re not ready for this moment to be over. 

“Relax,” he laughs. “Plenty of time for that later. Just rest for a bit.” 

“Later?" There’s gonna be a later?

Chan kisses your neck lightly. “Yeah, later. Not done with you yet, baby.” 

You sigh, bringing a hand up to stroke his back. Okay. Maybe a little nap is fine. If there’s going to be a later. 

Fuck, you can’t wait to text Minho. 

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2023 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

I don't feel right tagging my usual tl since that was for my BTS writing, so I'm just gonna tag some moots that I think might like this:

@moni-logues @yoongimingyu @borahae-k @nabiolive @jikooknoona @sowoozoo-7 @eoieopda @here4btsfics @candlewaxandp0lar0ids @ballelino @starlostjimin @augustbutwinter @blueversaillesdreams @hobivore @hobi-gif @seokjinger-ale @hannahbee12719 feel free to tell me if I'm way off base, no pressure to actually read! 💕

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

heartbeats and tangled sheets

Summary: It’s your birthday, and three men you’ve been seeing provide various gifts.

a/n: This is a birthday fic (belated as fuck) for @illneverrecover​ because I LOVE YOU BITCH I AIN’T NEVER GONNA STOP LOVING YOU BITCH

Warnings: not as much smut as one would think, oral (both m. and f. receiving), some exhibitionism and video sex, public sex, it got soft I’m SORRY JACKIE

Word Count: 2770

12:16AM, December 16th

It's late and you're in bed scrolling through your phone, hoping from a text from a certain someone that you shouldn't be waiting for. 

You shouldn't be waiting for anyone, you think, and you lock your phone with a heavy sigh and throw it down on the bed before hearing a ding and scrambling to pick it up again.

You up?

You roll your eyes but you're grinning ear to ear like an idiot. You are an idiot, but only for Kim Taehyung.

Before you can answer, his contact picture pops up on your screen, a picture you'd taken of him making a peace sign, which was basically every picture, the dork.

Your heart speeds up and you huff out a breath, irritated by how much just him calling affects you.

I shouldn't answer right away, you think, but you're already sliding to answer.

"What if I was sleeping?" You snark in greeting.

"Then I would have woken you up," he drawls, and his voice sounds gravelly, like he's tired or maybe been drinking.

It makes your heart flutter again.

"Jerk," you say, but there's no bite to it.

“Happy birthday,” he murmurs, and your heart, surely there's a physical problem. It shouldn't skip so many beats.

“Thanks, but you’re a little late, it’s after midnight.”

“Shit.” He chuckles low in his throat. “Guess I’ll have to make up for it.”

“Oh yeah? How?” Your skin is already tingling. He is able to affect you so quickly and it stresses you out.

“Hmm.” 

You wait for a long moment but then hear the beep of the phone hanging up and your mouth drops open. Did he just fucking hang up on you?

There’s five minutes of you being shocked and wondering if the call dropped and you should call back and then your phone starts buzzing again, a video call instead. It takes you a moment to answer, fumbling with your phone and grateful you hadn’t yet removed your makeup.

It’s dark at first, and you squint a little, until you see his arm, reaching over to turn on the desk light.

Taehyung smiles, big and boxy and open and there goes your heart flipping around again.

“There you are.”

“Here I am,” you quip, and he laughs and then shifts, and the camera takes a moment to catch up but then you can see he’s in bed, under a white sheet. You can see the broadness of his chest, his collarbones, the line of his neck. He must have the phone propped up on a nightstand or something, because you have the most delicious view of his whole body, his face turned towards you as he lies flat on the bed.

“I didn’t exactly get you a present,” he continues, and the sheet shifts down to reveal the softness of his belly, the dusting of hair below his belly button, and then down further to reveal his cock, thick and heavy, slowly starting to plump.

Your mouth goes dry and you tilt the phone sideways to see better, shifting down in your bed. You’re wearing just a thin tanktop and panties to bed, and your nipples are already starting to harden.

You’ve been seeing a few guys in the past six months, and Taehyung is off and on, given his recent breakup. His sweet brown eyes were so soulful when he kissed your knuckles, told you that he wished he could give you more than stolen kisses and late night knocks on your door, and it isn’t as if you hadn’t heard that line before: I’m just not ready.

But Taehyung had looked so earnest, and you want to believe that when he is ready, you’ll be the first to know. For now, you’re content to keep things casual, since the sex is amazing and you enjoy his company.

“Are you really suggesting that your dick is a gift?” 

“Isn’t it?” He drawls, stroking the gift in question with two long fingers and his thumb, slow, showing off.

The words come out of your mouth before you can think differently.

"Fuck. You got me there."

Taehyung gives you that slow smirk, flicks his gaze down to your breasts and raises an eyebrow. 

"Hmm, my birthday but you want a show. Typical." You grin as you tug down your top, revealing your breasts and tugging at your nipples, excitement and pleasure pooling in your lower belly.

"Mmm," he agrees, never one to argue with you, unlike some other guys you've been seeing. You can think of one in particular.

It's always easy with Taehyung, always fun, and if your heart might long for more on occasion, it isn't too much. Not yet, anyway.

“My birthday is soon too, you know. What are you gonna get me?” He teases.

“My tits are a gift,” you murmur, bouncing them at the camera, and he doesn’t crack a smile, just watches them, tongue flicking out to wet his full lips, before his dark eyes flick back up to your face.

“Damn right, they are,” he says, agreeable as always, and groans low in his throat, bucking into his hand.

“Fuck,” you repeat. “Wish you were here.” You tilt backwards on the bed, your fingers itching to slip beneath your panties but you wait, watching his face. You love how he looks like this, eyes dark and half lidded, mouth parted, hair in his face, eyelashes brushing his cheekbones as he closes them only to open them again, pausing his strokes and panting.

He pouts a little. “Wish I was too.” His gaze moves downward to your waistband, where you’ve lit one of your hands, thumb under the elastic. “Show me.”

Your breath catches, that’s what you’d been waiting for, some kind of permission. 

You smile at the screen, holding your phone up and wishing you’d known to do this on your laptop. “Gonna be hard to see in the dark.”

“Turn on the lights,” he commands, just this edge of pleading to it, and God, that’s what you love about him. Well, one of the things.

You do as he says, turning on your desk lamp and moving the phone down to slide the crotch of them aside, his responding moan making your fingers itch to touch yourself, but like always, you wait until he tells you to, asks you to, in that low tone of his that’s commanding yet somehow still agreeable.

A contradiction, your lover, one of your favorites.

After that it’s all a blur of pleasure, his words and deep moans, the slide of your fingers, not long enough to be his, not quite enough but it gets you there, his name on your lips as he tells you how beautiful you look, how much he wishes he could taste you.

You think about if he were there he’d slip your fingers into his mouth, suck while looking into your eyes until you’re panting and wanting him again and you whimper as you finally bring the phone back up to your face.

The way he looks makes you shudder with an aftershock of your orgasm, his mouth parted and panting, come painting his belly.

“When are you back in town?” You gasp.

He smiles. “I’ll call you.”

You roll your eyes but you’re smiling back. He talks to you into the wee hours of the morning, sweet and soft after, face close to the camera.

Sometimes he calls, sometimes he doesn’t, but you’ll be waiting either way.

10:02PM, Dec 15th

Going out for your birthday is a tradition among you and your friends, and given how hard you’d all worked this past year, it’s a given that you’re all going all out.

There’s preparation in terms of travel, knowing few of you will be sober enough to drive, mini bottles of liquor to pregame on the way there, condoms thrown into purses and your phone chargers in case of overnights.

As a result of those mini bottles and the high energy of your friends, you’re tipsy and loose when you arrive at the club, and the flashing lights and hype music only serve to make you smile more, dirty dancing with your friends and making eyes at all the cute guys at the club.

You're taking a break from dancing, surely sweating off your makeup and sitting at the bar to order a water when you hear a familiar voice.

"Heard it was your birthday."

You don't turn but you feel the corner of your mouth turn up. "That it is."

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Out with the girls. No boys allowed.”

You hear him step closer behind you. “It’s your birthday. You can do whatever you want.”

“Hmm,” you hum noncommittally.

"How old are you now, noona?"

You swear you can hear the smirk in his voice, how he's moved closer behind you. You can smell his cologne, the leather polish he uses on his shoes.

"Shut up, Seonghwa," you mutter, and that does nothing to dissuade him, he puts his hands on your waist, rests his chin on your shoulder to whisper in your ear.

"Wanna sit on my face to shut me up, noona?"

It doesn't come to that, because you're in a club and you somehow hardly ever make it to a bed with Seonghwa, always too riled up, his hands all over you at a bar, a club, the backseat of an Uber.

He's young and eager and mouthy and above all else, hot, so you can't say you complain.

You hate/love the way your name sounds on his lips, the way he always always adds noona in the sweetest croon.

It's infuriating how the sound of it makes you wet, his breath hot on your neck.

"You're so hot, noona, always so wet for me."

"Who says it's for you?" You snark.

He lifts his head, perfectly styled hair falling into his face from the humidity of the club, your ass against the bathroom stall door, his hands under your thighs, near constant smirk on his face.

"It is tonight," he murmurs, and you bite his lip bloody, striking like a snake, wriggling your hips under him.

He laughs into your mouth before he slides down to his knees, hooks your knees around his shoulders and buries his face beneath your skirt.

You were surprised, the first time, surprised because he was handsome and knew it, and usually guys like that weren’t great in bed, used their looks to get laid instead.

Seonghwa, on the other hand, prided himself in being good in bed, the best, he says, making you roll your eyes.

Sometimes he’s even sweet after, kissing along the side of your neck, along your collarbone, but usually it’s just snarky words, hard kisses, his long fingers hooked in your panties or that pretty dick of his in your mouth.

You hadn't even let him inside you yet, after two weeks of hooking up in clubs. It's more fun this way, you think. You love the way he looks when you're on your knees, his sharp jaw as his head tilts back, the way his hips twitch when you drag your manicured nails down his thighs.

He laps at your clit until your thighs are shaking around his head, his hands under your ass, kneading the flesh.

You cry out curses that are mostly drowned out by the music before he lowers you to the ground, licking his lips, that ever present smirk at the corners of that perfect mouth.

He’s got his hands on his belt and his mouth on your throat when you push against his chest, tottering only a little on your heels.

Seonghwa cocks his head, and you can’t help but giggle a little at his expression. Not many women tell him no, you’d imagine, not with that face.

“You’re not gonna leave me like this,” he pouts, gesturing down to the tent in his slacks.

“It’s my birthday,” you parrot. “I can do whatever I want.”

You feel him watching you when you head out of the bathroom and back into the club.

6:32AM, Dec 16th

There’s a banging on your door and sunlight is streaming through your window and you know if you roommates wake up there will be hell to pay so you grumble and roll out of bed.

You’d slept in your makeup from the night before so you wipe at your eyes before you jerk open the door.

When you see who it is you hiss out his name and jerk him inside.

“I swear to God if you’re drunk at my door at 6am ON MY BIRTHDAY-”

“It’s not your birthday,” he pants, seeming out of breath. “And I’m not drunk, I’m just tired, I flew the redeye but I had a layover and-”

You stare at him while he explains the whole ordeal and finally take his hand and lead him to your room so that your roommates won't wake up yelling.

He’s still babbling when you close your bedroom door.

It isn’t as if he doesn’t always talk a lot of shit, but usually it isn’t all sweet and apologetic like this, it’s usually sharp words from the both of you and sometimes dramatic arguments outside of clubs because to be honest, you drive each other crazy.

To be honest, neither of you seem to want to stop driving each other crazy.

You’ve been seeing Baekhyun off and on for a year now, ever since you’d moved for work, and even with both of you having crazy schedules you manage to see each other more than you see anyone else that you’ve gone out with.

You can’t deny that you’d looked out for him to call or at least text the day before.

“And my phone died and there weren’t any outlets-”

“Baek,” you say softly, and he finally closes his mouth. “I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” He sits down on the bed in a slump and you bounce.

“No, what, you think I was waiting for you to call?” You nudge his shoulder with yours.

“Yes,” he says, nudging you back, and you scoff.

“I went out with the girls. We had fun.”

“I wanted to spend your birthday with you,” he whines, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

He’s said things, sometimes, when you were arguing or sometimes pillow talk, panting against your skin, kissing a line down your spine, that made your heart skip, but never like this, never sober and in daylight and without so much as a hungry kiss.

It makes your heart skip, and when you’re sober and in daylight and without so much as a hungry kiss, it makes you a bit scared.

Baekhyun shakes his head against your shoulder. “No, not even a drop,” he mumbles. “Didn’t sleep though, except a little on the plane.”

“You didn’t even bring me anything?” You ask incredulously. “You flew what, 13 hours just to come and be a sap?”

He lifts his head and you turn to look at him.

He does look tired, his clothes rumpled, bags under his eyes, but he looks earnest, too, and your heart does a little flip in your chest.

“Yeah, I did. You know how I-” he stops, closes his mouth, flops down faceup on your bed.

“How you what?” You ask curiously, straddling his lap and looking down at him.

Baekhyun shakes his head, his mouth in this little pout. 

“It’s my birthday,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss that pout. “You have to tell me.”

He huffs out a breath, puts his hands on your hips, skating them up your body. He lands on your waist, flips you over and kisses you hard, like you’re used to, like you expect from him.

You mewl into his mouth but he pulls away, presses his forehead to yours.

“You know how I feel,” he says softly, and oh, your heart.

You’ll think about that later, though, think about why your heart speeds up not just when he tugs your breasts out of your tanktop or when his fingers slide beneath your panties, but when he brushes his nose along your neck, tells you how sorry he is that he missed your birthday. 

You’ll think about it later, for now you’ll enjoy your belated birthday present, which is how warm your chest feels after you’re both spent and he’s spooning behind you, kissing the back of your neck, how hard you laugh at this story he tells you about the airport and how he’d slid down the escalator.

You’ll think about it later, when you have time to be scared you might be in love.